Grifter's Carrion Hill [IC]

[grifter730]

Carrion Hill
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
--H. P. Lovecraft

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The skies are dark and overcast, and rain starts to fall as you make your way down the streets of Carrion Hill. You notice that despite how densely packed the buildings are and how well worn the streets might be, the city seems all but deserted—even the crows so often seen perching atop 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!" A Crow yells, repeating the words over and over again.

[Gunhaven]

The day had started like any other for the Good Doctor. He awoke in his private room within the Cackling Cauldron, performed his morning rituals (topped off with judicious use of prestidigation), and made sure the cover for tonight's feast of bread and stew with plenty of ale to go around was safely tucked away in the chest Anthony provided. He had a bit of bread and stew from the night before at the bar, helped clean up the sickness he caused a bit with more prestidigation uses, and bid his farewell to Anthony. Brimley had a fairly busy day scheduled and marched through the Tangle with a slight bounce in his step.

His mood lasted all of fifteen minutes before he realized something was amiss. It turned sour when his first client, a Miss Thornberry or some other (for honestly he didn't care enough about the rich folk to learn their names), wasn't present. Instead the house guard, dressed in his obnoxious finery, informed him that something dire was happening in town and that he should be on the lookout. He was sent off with barely a copper paid for his time and instead he turned to stalking the alleyways for something to do.

That's when he heard the town criers get started. A look around revealed that the normal bustle was more dead than the person he drained three nights ago to try and figure out what made her limp so. Well that should do, then... Now Crown Manor is... His thoughts drifted towards such elegance that he could afford with such a vague sum of money as he wandered through town like only a native could, finding himself in front of the manor in question just as his fingers were starting to grow tired with all the snapping he was doing to maintain his dryness.

[DrK]

Richter

The tall gates had opened and the stench of despair and fear had oozed out of them like a foul miasma thought Richter as he entered the strangely deserted city that should have been thriving and packed to the rafters not half empty and deserted. The gun and blade at his waist were a welcome weight as he stamped the mud off his shoes and strode into town, long coat dusty with travel and hat pulled low over his eyes, his cragged face still in shadows. Seeing the "crows" shouting on the street corner and making sure the symbol of his goddess was visible the lanky witch hunter approaches the nearest crow. "Blessings on you. What has befallen this town to leave it in such a state? Where is the Crown Manor?"

[Genth]

Al'Mort min-Alzzll, former enforcer of the Ruler of Shadow Absalom, was bored. He was leaning up against a cold middenstone wall, eyes flicking from person to person walking past. Dreadfully dreary. Still, Tren's note said there was something important to do here. Wish he'd have met me at the blasted tavern though. the fetchling mused. He'd been here for three blasted days - long enough to get a shallow understanding of the town's layout, and enough to have boredom set in. A cawing, croaking voice caught his attention, and he looked over to see the crow, perched on the corner of a roof, seemingly yelling its message for all to hear.

"I suppose that'd be my cue" he says out loud, voice rough, but oddly cultured sounding. With a smirk he pushes himself off the wall and starts to move towards the manor, keeping close to walls, and striding with a smooth gait.

[grifter730]

A soft misty rain started to fall as Richter approached a Crow and asked him for more details. The man had a pock-marked face, with a small scar on his chin that looks more like a shaving accident than a battle scar. He looks at Richter with a mild surprise on his face. "Somethin' dark 'as surfaced from below, butcherin' citizens and guardsmen alike. You look capable enough. Best you head o'er to Crown Manor and get the latest news from Mayor Heggry 'imself." With that, the Crow looks to the streets and began his cawing once more. "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!"

Rain has since started pouring as each of you approach Crown Manor, you notice two Crows, guardsmen dressed in black leather armor and chains wielding bows and longswords, standing guard. At a few paces away, you notice their somber expression flicker with hope and they wave to you. "Welcome, welcome!" One of them says, an older man with thinning white hair who otherwise looks stout and capable, most likely having served his entire life in service to the protection of Carrion Hill's citizens. "Good to see such capable young lads as yourself here. Nevermind the rain, please just follow me."

Dripping wet, you follow the old Crow into the central hall, with the other guard trailing at the back. Upon entering the hall, each of you soon discover why the guards seem so thankful—several members of the Crows stand guard, but there appear to be no other adventurers present. It seems recent events have sent the vast majority of Carrion Hill's self-styled "adventurers" into hiding. The mayor, a distracted and worried man, sits in a tall-backed chair. When he sees you enter, he straightens up and says, "At least we’ve got a few backbones still upright in this place," then gestures for you all to be seated. He clears his throat, and continues.


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"My name is Vanton Heggry, I have the fortunate privilege to be Mayor of Carrion Hill, and the misfortune of dealing with the tragedy of which I'm about to tell you. I thank you for attending in our hour of need—Carrion Hill has a long history of battle, yet always before its enemies have attacked from outside our walls. We are fortified to defend against 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 occurred 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 in keeping order in the streets, but if indeed 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.

"That's a mouthful that you've just heard. Is there any questions that I may help you with?"

[Gunhaven]

The minute he got indoors Brimley slowed his snapping. He did chuckle at being called a young lad, having been around since before these whippersnappers' great-grandparents met, but regained his composure quickly enough. His snaps continued cleaning the entire path in his constant fight to maintain proper appearances no matter the circumstances. To the trio of people he hadn't met before he flashed a warm grin and said with just a touch of too much joy "Why it sure is a pleasure to see new faces! Brimley's the name, doctoring is the profession. I'm sure we will get along splendidly."
He gave a far too formal bow upon seeing the mayor of his town, grin apparently plastered on his fat face. He cleans the seats and takes the biggest one, chuckling a bit as it groans under his weight and giving his rotund belly a smack as he says "I don't normally miss a meal if it wasn't obvious yet." His joy began to waver as the mayor spoke until finally dread began to set in. He slammed a fist on the desk right after the mayor finished speaking and called out in distress "Tell me the Cackling Cauldron is intact!"
He straightened up and quickly added "You know I offer my aid in this, Vanton. I've got too much invested in this city and maintaining their health to risk losing any more patients. Plus I bet Thornberry won't be the first noble to cancel on me." When he mentions the loss of business the look of dedication to this task briefly faltered and was replaced by a look of pure disgust. It was his livelihood at stake after all!

[DrK]

Richter

Richter had taken his hat off as he entered the Mayor's office and took a sip of water as he listened to the horrifying tale. Clutching Iomoedae's symbol he shook his head sadly. "Master Heggry. God's blessing on you and may she shelter your men that you have lost. I know the Crows are brave and honourable soliders. How many did you lose?" Looking at the few soldiers in the room he offers a respectful nod and a prayer.

"I do not speak for all of us, but I will head to the Slipper Market. I swear on my life that my blade and bullet will not rest until this beast is dead." He looks to the Crows in the room. "May we borrow one of your men to act as a guide for the city. It will be quicker for us to get around the city that way."