Carrion Hill

[Eldritch Horror]

Carrion Hill
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As you make your way down the streets of Carrion Hill you notice that despite how densely packed the buildings appear, or how well-worn the streets are, the city seems all but deserted. Even the crows, often seen perched on eaves and gables have taken wing and circle in the air above calling out in fear. The very few people you do notice are the town criers, posted at every second street corner, many of whom wear the all black uniforms of the city guards, a group known as The Crows because of their dark appearance.

"Carrion Hill needs heroes! Men of stout heart and bravery are asked to come to Crown Manor with all haste, there to receive a task worthy of their skill and talents and a reward of suitable magnificence. Make haste to Crown Manor! Make haste!" they all yell, repeating this mantra again and again. Following the street signs or asking the Crows for directions you find yourself nearing Crown Manor. As you approach the dark and overcast skies open up and a downpour of rain begins to soak through you. As you make your way nearer to the mayor's residence, Crown Manor, you notice that all of the shops seem to be closed and even the beggars, a typical sight in such a bustling city, seem to be hiding. Quickly the streets are drenched and rivers of water flow down the central gutters of every road throughout the city.

Crown Manor comes into sight and as you approach you can see that two Crows, fit men wearing black leathers and chain and armed with longswords and longbows, stand guard flanking the entrance. When they notice you approach their somber expressions flicker with hope and they motion for you to follow them inside. They make their way like you, dripping wet, into the central hall. Inside you see a gathering of four other folk, all seem the adventuring type, or are at least more well armed than the typical citizenry ought to be. As you arrive the two Crows that led you in return to their posts outside. In this large opulent hall you can see that about six more crows stand guard and a worried looking middle aged man that you can only assume is the mayor stands wringing his hands. He is of average height, with close cropped black hair and a matching long black goatee. He is dressed rather splendidly, fine silks trimmed with white fur adorn him as well as a number of large golden rings on each hand. Once he notices you all enter he straightens up and makes his way over. "At least we've got a few backbones still upright in this place," he says then gestures for you to take a seat in a set of velvet padded wooden chairs against the one wall.

"My name is Mayor Heggry. I thank you for attending in our hour of need - Carrion Hill has a long history of battle, yet always before our enemies have attacked from outside our walls. We are fortified to defend such attacks, but now we face an entirely different threat. Our enemy is already here, dwelling in the tunnels and catacombs below and surfacing to strike without warning."

"As you may have heard, the first of these attacks happened early this very morning, when something huge came up from below in a part of the Tangles called Slipper Market. It partially destroyed a building and killed a half dozen locals before retreating into the ruined structure. The Crows were swift to reply, led by our own Commander Garus, but when they arrived, they were slaughtered to the last."

"Since then, the thing has moved on, surfacing no less than three times in different parts of the city, crushing buildings from below and slaying anyone it finds inside. I've got the entire force of the city watch in reserve, and with each new event they respond quickly, but the damage is always done by the time they arrive. Already there is talk of war and invasion, but I still believe that what we face is a single horror. If we can only figure out what it is, we might be able to defeat it. And this is where your group comes in - the horror has moved on from its initial point of entrance, but if you can explore the ruins in Slipper Market, perhaps you can find some sort of clue to tell us what it is we face. I cannot spare any of my Crows to aid you, for they are needed for keeping order in the streets, but indeed if you can find something... anything... about this monster from below, I will pay you handsomely: 1,500 gold for solid information, and twice again that amount for aiding in defeating the horror. Time is of the essence but please, ask me any questions you might have."


http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/169197/mayor-heggery-portrait.JPG

[Hazuki]

A shiver ran through Miruna's spine the second she stepped foot in Carrion Hill. Without people strolling through the streets, the constant clamor of crowds in the background, or even the stench of beggars on the streets, the city was laid bare as a skeleton. And she'd never been too fond of those, either. She tugged at her colorful cloak and wrapped it tightly around herself, longed for something warmer, then smiled as it drooped down to her ankles and shimmered into a heavy black material. That was when she heard the call of the criers echoing against cobblestone, and the call for aid at the Crown Manor.

If anywhere was likely to play host to scholars of the unknown, it was there. And while far from a patriot herself, Versex was still her home, and seeing part of it utterly devoid of life stung just enough to play at her heartstrings. It was the part of her that wanted to dispel the superstitions that danced through the minds of her countrymen, and show them that there was nothing to fear from the dark. Unfortunate, then, that something actually had struck them - in their very homes, no less.

Entering the domain of the Crows unsettled her a little more than it should have, but at least her cloak provided her with ample shield from the rain. The central hall itself was nothing to sneeze at, it was filled with the kind of things she'd hoped to own before she retired from the pirating business, if such a time ever came. Few pirates ever had that luxury, but it was a pleasant enough thought.

The sight of the mayor incited just a little jealousy in her, most particularly the gorgeous golden bands on his fingers. Throughout his speech, she took the opportunity to observe the four others who'd taken up the call to action. The first in line was the beautiful woman to her side, dressed just like she might have expected an adventurer to look - she'd never had the misfortune of encountering them on her own pirating endeavors. Fancy equipment tucked behind a layer of scruff and dirt. The most curious part was her eyes; perhaps she had a little elf in her, as well.

Next was a halfling, of all things! Although she couldn't tell from where, geography had never been a particular forte of hers, she couldn't help but smile inwardly at the sight. She'd spoken with a few halflings in her days, although she'd never had the fortune to have one on her ship, and this one was adorable. She chastised herself for thinking that way, but she couldn't help it. Next was a grotesque man who resembled nothing less than somebody who got into an argument with a cannon, lost, and got a chunk of it lodged in his skull. Ghastly in every sense of the word, but possibly the man most likely to know something about the beasts prowling the depths. For some reason, those trained in the arcane were frequently less-than-pleasing to the eye.

Finally, there was the horned gentleman with eyes quite like anything she'd ever seen, and they were something that were likely to get him scorned by most citizens. But, at least it was less likely in Versex, unlike certain other places in Ustalav where unusual heritage was likely to end with you on a burning pole. The fact that she'd be treated much the same in such places unnerved her slightly. By the time she'd finished her mental examination, the Mayor had finished speaking and she turned to face him properly. After pulling her dripping wet hood away from her face, she greeted him with a smile that she hoped wouldn't scream "scoundrel".

"I'm Miruna. I suppose you could call me a priestess, of sorts. " She introduced herself to the Mayor and the group at large, with a particularly common Versex accent. "Like you rightly said, we don't want to waste too much time here, but..." She licked her lips and spoke a little more softly. "Did your men retrieve any of the cadavers, from that first attack?"

[3SecondCultist]

The mud covered Vera's boots like a cancer, but she knew better than to complain. It had been a long time since she complained about something as quotidian as weather. That wasn't to say that Carrion Hill was pleasant, by any stretch of the word. But she'd seen worse in only twenty-one years, and was likely to again before long.

She hadn't said anything to her traveling companion in some time, which was new for her. As the grim wilds of Ustalav gave way to the fatalistic bustle of the town, the wanderer gripped Venerance with her left hand beneath her sopping cloak and left Longfire's silver handle untouched. In case of trouble - as it so often managed to crop up - a quicker rate of fire at close quarters typically did better than a few more spaced out shots from her musket rifle. Not to mention with this rain, the bigger gun would be patently useless to her. Still, she knew better than to draw any weapons here. These people were accustomed to hardship, but she wasn't going to be the one to remind them of that here.

They'd followed Arlane's directions for the better part of two weeks, making the journey due north from Lastwall. As the countryside darkened, she had kept her qualms to herself. Whatever the alchemist wanted her help with, she was more than happy to oblige. When arriving in Crown Manor and hearing out the Mayor's call for aid, however, Vera shot Arlane a questioning look. Far be it from me to refuse helping these people out, but this doesn't seem like the kind of task you're interested in, alchemist. Although she said nothing aloud, her expression conveyed her sentiments. They'd been traveling long enough for this kind of rapport, at least.

"Allow me to echo what had already been said. I'd also like to see the original attack sites. Maybe the horror, whatever it is, left behind some evidence we can use. I'm Vera, by the way, Vera Highshot. You could call me a gun for hire, but I'd call you a liar." She grins sheepishly at the half-elven self-professed priestess, and decides to let Arlane introduce himself.

[Eldritch Horror]

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miruna. I cannot stress how thankful I am that there are people of your ilk willing to aid my fair city." Heggry gives the priestess a broad genuine smile but mention of the cadavers makes his face go pale and snuffs out that brief moment of pleasantness. "I'm told that the bodies have been torn apart, crushed, or twisted beyond recognition. Many of the Crows died in the market this morning and I'm told they're having a hell of a time trying to find out, uh... what pieces go together. I asked them to refrain from gathering up the bodies until after someone more experienced or in tune with that sort of thing can take a look at them first. Perhaps that could be you or your friends here," the mayor says as he nods his head at Vera in greeting.

[UrsusArctos]

Daven had come into Carrion Hill for a simple purpose. All he had wanted to do was sell some of the excess crop he had collected from his farm, and possibly buy some new tools for his farm. Possibly, he could buy a workhorse and plow, which would allow him to maintain his fields better. For the past four years, his had been a simple life of work, not adventure.

Most days he had focused on the cloak he had been given by the old man. It helped him work at his plow, and was a simple tool for that purpose. But today, he had been hoping to argue and hawk his goods at the market. For that purpose, he would need the charismatic force of the Forgotten King, and so he used the rusted, dented crown he carried with him for that day's seance. Fearing he may have had to protect himself from thieves, he had also focused on the aspect of the king that was a warrior, allowing him to strike fiercer blows. Not having any friends, he saw no harm in vowing to not leave them behind.

But when he reached Carrion Hill, he found the streets to be deserted. All that were left on the roads were town criers, calling out for heroes to save them from an unknown monster. Daven didn't think of himself as a hero anymore, not after what had happened to Kyra with those undead. But something made him go to Crown Manor. Perhaps it was the heroic nature of the King, his boldness and courage. Perhaps it was boredom with his life as a farmer, or sympathy for those in this town.

Daven had been the first to answer the call of the town, and sheepishly sat down at the table, waiting for others in silence. Three more had filed in, not speaking much, and then came a fifth, who began asking questions. Soon, another began to speak up as well, and the mayor responded in term. Daven almost felt out of place amongst the others - two humans, a half-elf, and a halfling. All mostly humanoid species.

Perhaps this was a mistake after all. Daven thought. However, Kyra didn't die so I could become a peasant. I should stay, for her.

Daven looked up his companions, and his eyes glowed. For a third of a minute he concentrated, looking for signs of evil among those assembled. He wouldn't have had any real problem if they had been - Sarenrae was a goddess of redemption, but it was good to know if there were any bad eggs in those assembled.

"I agree. We must get to the bottom of this, and the surest way is to investigate the sites of the attacks. We must see what this monster left in it's wake, whatever it is. I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Daven Hellborn, a channeler of spirits long dead via the artifacts they left behind while alive. I see none of you are evil, so we should get along well."


Daven has channeled the Marshal spirit with the Champion seance boon. He uses one use of his racial Detect Evil ability to scan the party for evil. Unless one of the guards is bad, he found nothing.

[sakuuya]

Kseniya had told the innkeeper that she needed peace and quiet for her work, and had planned to spend the next several days sealed up in her room compiling her notes from down south. Said notes had, unfortunately, come unbound in her pack somehow, and the pages were variously crumpled, torn, and entirely out of sequence. That would have been enough of a headache by itself, but she also kept coming across passages she had absolutely no memory of writing—though the neat script was definitely hers.

She rubbed her eyes. It was ridiculous to even entertain the idea that she’d somehow written these notes without knowing it, but that business down by Corvischior had left her shaken. Her memory was already blurring the edges of precisely what the deformed rats had looked like (all the more reason to document her experience quickly), so perhaps her mind had simply been overzealous about forgetting. Still, she was on edge.

So on edge, in fact, that when the Crows’ call pierced her shuttered window, Kseniya leapt up from her chair, spilling ink all over her dressing gown in the process. When she calmed down enough to actually listen to what the guards had to say, she resolved to ignore their entreaties. Besides not being a man in any sense, she was neither brave nor stout of heart—her ruined dressing gown ably spoke to that. When she went to change, though, her hand hovered over her cloak, the Crows’ message still booming though the air. She really should keep writing; she hadn’t been back to Caliphas in months and was far overdue to publish another paper. But the summons clawed at her conscience and her curiosity. The writing would keep.

Kseniya was conflicted about her decision, but regret didn’t kick in in earnest until the downpour started. These streets and gutters weren’t built for someone of her stature, and by the time she reached Crown Manor, holding her rain-heavy skirts in a futile attempt to keep them above the mud, she was soaked through. The others who had answered the call for aid were all significantly taller than she was—which made it very hard to look them over surreptitiously. She’d taken them all for human at first glance, but the one who'd introduced himself as Hellborn definitely had an ancestor from the lower planes. She waited until he finished speaking, nodded politely at his assessment, tehn took an extra second to make sure she wasn't cutting anyone else off before she spoke up.

"It's good to meet you, sir. I'm sorry it had to be under such unfortunate circumstances. My name is Kseniya Vaytsev; I study folktales."

She was aware even as she said it how unimpressive that sounded compared to the rest of the group—even the "sort of priestess" (who, on a second look, probably wasn't all human herself) dressed and carried herself with a verve Kseniya could never hope to match. Still, since the halfling was already here, she felt she should at least try to contribute.

"Has anyone witnessed any of the attacks and survived to give an account of what this horror looks like?"

[n0ble]

It was odd to be back in Ustalav. The thought had stuck with Arlane ever since they'd crossed over into the homeland from Lastwall. Perhaps more odd however, was the gunslingers silence as they had traveled. Not that this had bothered the alchemist much. Arlane had never been one for conversation, finding his prosthetics didn't lend themselves to more civilized conversation, which suited him just fine. He'd never really been the more talkative of the two anyway.

He wasn't particularly shocked when they reached Carrion Hill. Most ecosystems had some sort of imbalance these days, whether it was humanoid or magical in nature. It simply meant that whatever was driving people from the streets would need to be addressed in order to re-order things. Not that he'd blame anyone for staying in doors in this downpour. Sarah's scarf was holding onto his face for dear life, and he was almost certain that people could discern his jaw because of how wet it had become. Or the soft blue runes that glowed on it. What's more he was sure that the makeup he'd applied to the burns on his cheeks was running. Must remember to add a waterproof supplement in the future.

As they went inside the Manor, Arlane felt little better. He wasn't used to interacting with this many people, especially in such a confined area. Whats more, he became acutely aware of how, due to the rain's absence, it was easy to hear how his body clinked whenever he moved. A by-product of the many vials he had on his person. Even so, his eyes took in everyone else in the room, swiftly compiling profiles based on cursory glances. The priest woman-Miruna? Was that disgust in her eyes? Arlane habitually adjusted his scarf as he caught her gaze wandering over him. The halfling seemed rather unkempt all things considered, but then again Arlane was sure he looked just as bad if not worse. Vera was Vera, who somehow managed to pull off being soaked like it was a new fashion. Others might have found horned-man's appearance unappealing, but he knew better then to comment or sink to such thoughts.

When the others were done introducing themselves Arlane did the same with three terse words "Arlane Thraximal. Alchemist.". His voice comes out as a sort of metallic boom, more in keeping with clang or wheeze than any normal voice. His jaw didn't come with any sort of volume control. It had the mistaken effect of making him seem perpetually angry and was one of the more prominent reasons as to why Arlane rarely spoke. And why he would leave the asking of questions to others.

[Eldritch Horror]

Mayor Heggry takes the time to listen to everyone introduce themselves, giving each of those assembled a curt nod in acknowledgement and greeting. "I am told that there is a witness to the first attack. He is a local from Slipper Market, he apparently owns a home across the street from where this unknown horror initially broke through the ground. I haven't heard his testimony personally, but I'm told that it doesn't seem to make much sense, though at this point I'm not willing to rule anything out. The man's name is Tarrig, the Crows are holding him for questioning at the initial site so I would recommend getting his first hand account as you're sifting through the debris there."

[3SecondCultist]

Vera has noted the gazes of Arlane and Miruna alike, and takes them in stride but doesn't allow her inklings of pride to show. There's nothing more vain than somebody who knows they're beautiful, after all. She still doesn't understand why the alchemist took them through Carrion Hill, but the longer she listens to the Mayor, the more she is sure that she needs to help the people of this town.

Although she isn't quite yet sure what to make of the halfling storyteller and the strange horned man, Vera suspects she will get to know them the same way she has come to know so many others - over the din of combat. It isn't exactly something she looks forward to, but rather a kind of inevitability. Iomedae fills the world with tests of all kinds.

"Well then," the gunslinger says brightly, eager to inject some levity into the proceedings, "I guess we know where we're going first, don't we?"

[Hazuki]

"That we do!" Miruna nods with Very's words, but quickly turns her gaze back to the Mayor. "But, if we're going to be poking around grim streets and grisly scenes, we're going to need some way to let the Crows know that we're more than mere ne'er-do-wells." The half-elf points out, with some silent amusement at the irony. "Is there some kind of mark or rite of passage we can use, to prove that we're acting in the town's interests?" An escort is one thing she'd suggest, if she weren't concerned about having a lawman right on her heels through all their time in Carrion Hill.

[Eldritch Horror]

Mayor Heggry nods in understanding before motioning for one of the Crows behind him to approach. A man in his mid to late twenties steps forward. He has a shaved head, dark eyes and a grim look on his face which was covered in stubble and scars, for one as young as he was he had clearly seen his fair share of battles. Korvio here, will take you to the initial site and I'll send runners to inform the crows that you're working with my approval." Korvio gives a crisp salute before making his way to the exit of the central hall to stand at attention and wait for the proceedings to come to an end.

If you have any more questions or concerns ask them now. If not, Korvio will lead you to the scene of the attack."

[sakuuya]

"I'm ready to investigate the site,"Kseniya says in her most professional and determined voice. After such an underwhelming introduction, she feels that she has some ground to make up. She'd been holding out hope that whatever was going on in this city could be resolved easily, but this guard--all the guards in the room, in fact--looked competent enough that a simple matter wouldn't require the mayor to call in outside help. Whatever was afoot here, she's stuck in it now. Best to just get on with it. She looks up at Korvio and adds, "We should probably hurry, too--all this rain can't be good for preserving the scene."

[UrsusArctos]

"There is little time to sit around talking. We must hurry to the scene of the attacks and get to the bottom of these disturbances before their is another such attack. The sooner we figure out what is going on, the better." Daven got up and walked to the door, ready to lead the way, but he stopped, held back by the spirit of the Forgotten King. He could not leave his allies behind, no matter what. Daven shrugged to himself, and opened the door, waiting for the rest.

[Hazuki]

"That's all I needed to know. Lead on!" Miruna smiles at the mayor, as well as the summoned Korvio, then turns on her heel to follow the guardsman out of the building. Inside her cloak, she feels Heather slithering impatiently to leave - as much as she'd like to pet the poor thing, unleashing a venomous animal in the presence of the mayor probably wouldn't help foster a relationship of trust.

[n0ble]

Arlane nods glumly at the mayor then turns to follow the guard out of the room at a brusque pace. Too much time had been lost already from exchanging formalities. They would have plenty of time to get to know each other while on the job. The alchemist habitually adjusted his scarf before mentally taking note of the various extracts he had on his person: Two origami swarms, Five cold iron pellet fuse grenades, four Sunrods, three thunderstones .... Upon completing, he checks again. Halfway through his second mental checklist, Arlane became aware of an itch at where his mechanical hand met his body. He completed the second mental checklist before starting a third one. Routine had always provided a way of escape for him.

[3SecondCultist]

Realizing that Korvio is likely waiting on her, Vera blanches in embarrassment and gets to her feet, crossing the floor in a couple of strides to stand next to Daven by the door. She already knows Thraximal well enough, and meets his gaze with a level stare, followed by a smile. But the horned man is somebody that she feels as though she might want to get to know better. She puts her hand forward, as though to indicate that he should head through the open doorway first.

"Shall we be off, then?"

Turning up her coat's high collar against the wind, Vera fingers the handle of Venerance at her belt. Let's hope I don't have to use it.

[UrsusArctos]

Daven slips through the door ahead of Vera, though walking slowly to make sure that she follows along. He grabs from his bag one of the red onions he had been planning on eating, and bites into it like an apple. He walked along slowly, making sure that Vera and Korvio would be coming along.

"So, how far of a walk are we from the site of the attack?"