Old World Monsters Act One: Of Pagans

[Charon]

Each of the mercenaries were found and were told that one of their number had asked the Magistrate to collect the rest of them in the inn to discuss plans.

By now the sky had darkened considerably more, showing that night-time was fast approaching.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Manfred grudgingly headed to the inn, grumbling something about Bastard Night, and wanting to ask if they had felt some kind of field... but that could wait

[The Silence and I]

After excusing himself from his work and cleaning after himself as a professional should John walks directly towards the inn. As the rain had dried up he has placed his oiled coat within his pack and he carries his staff in hand, his sword at his side. Despite the work he has done he carries himself lightly, seeming ready for... something.

[Marcao]

He was not very difficult to find as he carefully walked through the town. It made sense to him to become very familiar with the physical characteristics of the town itself. He admired the recent additions that had been crafted for the town's defense even if there was something quite inelegant about the whole thing. It would warn the would be attackers that something was amiss, that something had changed. It would perhaps dissuade some potential adversaries but he had a feeling that the monsters that haunted this town would still come.

He had caught sight of some of the others that he had seen in the meeting with the Magistrate but he had not approached them. He had seen no need to. Some had been busy enough doing their own work and preparations and frankly, he did not believe that any where of true interest to him. Well, except for the other Mage. He would have to keep an eye out on that one. In the end, he found himself making his way towards the Inn. As he did so his head tilted back as he glanced at the night sky.

Soon now, soon.

The whisper danced near his ears before it was gone. He did not seem at all disturbed.

[Charon]

The group reconvened quickly, with Krystyna making herself known again and Agrilos continuing hsi flirtation with the barmaid from before, much to her blushing profusely and sputtering some until she was replaced by an older barmaid, who glared at Agrilos whenever she was near him.

The inn was very busy now, and everyone was looking at the travellers, seemingly expectant for what they may say and do. It seemed news travelled quickly.

[rhoenix]

The group reconvened quickly, with Krystyna making herself known again and Agrilos continuing hsi flirtation with the barmaid from before, much to her blushing profusely and sputtering some until she was replaced by an older barmaid, who glared at Agrilos whenever she was near him.

The inn was very busy now, and everyone was looking at the travellers, seemingly expectant for what they may say and do. It seemed news travelled quickly.

Agrilos smiled warmly at the older barmaid as he saw her glaring the first time, and made sure to tip her as he passed by her on the way back to his seat at the table.

That done, he sat comfortably with the hood of his cloak off, and waited for the rest to take their seats. Fine-tuning his rough idea would take time, and he hoped quietly that they had enough.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Manfred plopped down in his seat exhausted and muttering something. But as soon as he sat down he spoke.

"There is something wrong here. Something sapped my strength and ruined my ability to concentrate as I constructed the defenses... It covers much of the town and I could not pinpoint its center. It may have something to do with the attacks" and he went back to muttering, as if talking to himself deep in thought. But still aware of his surroundings.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Manfred heard...chattering. He did not like the chatter. Both from within the tavern and without. it was not the sort of friendly chatter. No, not at all. Those damn songbirds again. This time they would pay. Not just individually... but as a group. Nasty little feathered spies... He looked around... there were some weeds on the ground, and a few rats... good... hmm... some discarded nails, that would work nicely.

He positioned himself next to the window so he could do his "work" without the others noticing. They would not understand, they did not know...they did not know the birds as he did.

As people started taking their seats, to the delight (or horror) of the local urchins, scamps and other assorted children, Manfred put on a little puppet show. He withdrew some bread crumbs from a pouch, saved just to lure birds into his clutches and threw them out the window, when the birds, about five, descended to feed they fell into his trap. The earth engulfed their little feet, trapping them in place. And with slow, jerky movements, like puppets, the rats came over and subdued the birds, tying them up with some plants. All at Manfred's direct control, as he manipulated the water in their bodies to move them against their will. Then the several rats brought over the nails.

The nails were planted after a bit of clumsy digging into the soil. Then the first bird was picked up, and with an amount of force that the rat could not generate on its own (and indeed broke its little spine) the bird, in this case a dove, was impaled.

The next bird, a long-tailed tit had its wings chewed off and was set free. mangled.

Several more birds were impaled like Turks outside the territory of Vlad Teppes, and the last one was tied to some living plants, and manfred started pulling, until the bird was ripped in half, alive and chirping.


And all the others could hear was the chirping of birds and a bit of squeaking as Manfred looked absent-mindedly out the window...

Manfred stared at every other living bird in the area he could see, pointing with his eyes at what he had done. A Warning. Then he buried the evidence by making the earth swallow it.

Then he turned back toward everyone else, and magically shut all the window shutters with a gust of wind.

But that was not enough... that man in the corner... and the other one at the bad... and that busty barmaid chatting it up with Agrilos the moment before... they were spies... he should slaughter them where they.... no... the others could not...would not understand. And he would not want to upset Paul... he would have to be a bit more subtle

"Anyone mind if I make sure we have some privacy? We never know who or what may be watching from afar"

[Cynical Cat]

"Master," said Paul quietly. "May I have a few coins?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Sure..." he said, his apprentice was probably hungry, either that or was looking for Ale and Whores, at his age, it was rather normal.

He reached into a pouch and produced the necessary coin

[Cynical Cat]

"Excellent. Thank you master." The teenager made the coins vanish and then disappeared himself. He was a nondescript lad in a good sized town, easy to miss and not pay any attention too.

He wandered the streets before settling down in a ale house. It wasn't that nice of a place, but one where he would blend in easily. He doled out coin for ale and greasy stew as he sat down to listen.

[Charon]

The urchins and others who watched the display were both amazed, terrified, and thrilled, at what had happened before them. Beyond the chirping of the birds could also be heard shouts of encouragement from some while shrieks of fright from those who had not been expecting such a display. When it all ended, the populace seemed all the more interested now in what was going on in the inn.

--------------------------------

The ale house Paul had picked had some people in it. But with most people gathering to see the mercenaries who had come to protect them there weren't as many as there would have been. But Paul had time to spare now that he was away from his mad mentor.

Mostly what Paul heard was rumbling about the Inquisition emplaced Magistrate. It had been years back but apparently some did not get over old wounds. As Paul listened longer he learned that ten years ago the town had faced another attack that had ended with an Inquisitor named Bradley coming to the town and cleaning it of heresy. Bradley had apparently placed Magistrate Fruehauf in the position before he left.

For a long time that was all Paul picked up. He began to consider it a lost cause when an etherial presence that was both dark and familiar entered the room through one of the walls. Paul found that he could not move his eyes from where the presence was. It moved lazily across the earthen floor, spending nearly a minute dallying about before it focused in on a pair of men that were talking. The presence passed between the pair, and Paul could feel that it was looking directly at him as a voice whispered in his ear. "Here."

[Cynical Cat]

A dagger appeared in Paul's hand instantly, as if by magic. Its point was in the vicinity of the voice's navel. "Your choice on how we play this," said Paul.

[Charon]

The voice only laughed as the dagger point touched nothing but air. The laugh was far too deep to be human, and far too airy to be real. "Poor poor boy, of lost parentage, and lost heritage. Listen carefully to them boy, if a truth is what you seek."

With that the voice and the presence were gone as quickly as they had come, and Paul could only feel utterly disheartened at it's leaving him.

[Cynical Cat]

Paul disappeared the knife. This was bad, very bad. Something had decided to play with him. He shivered and took another drink of ale.

[The Silence and I]

Seated at Manfred's table, though not in a position to see out the window Manfred had been using, John has been quiet as the other mercenaries arrived. Noticing Manfred's attention returning to the present he asks him,
"You mentioned an interference you did not identify. This interests me, as do the defenses you have apparently been working on. What can you tell me about the ways you have improved our odds in the defense of this town, and the force or forces that impeded you?" His voice loud enough to include the other mercenaries in the inn.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"I would prefer not to tip my hand before all my ducks are in a row... one moment please" The mage concentrated, stared balefully at the peasants and other assorted townsfolk that had gathered inside the inn.

The room got supernaturally cold for everyone outside the group of mercenaries, so cold that frost formed on peoples drinks and their meals got cold. A wind began to stir that chilled them to the bone. The mercenaries were kept from this.

"I would recommend that you leave" he said to the throng of villagers, but it was not his voice. It was an ephemeral voice carried on the wind.

"I would not want you to fall into our enemies clutches and have information to give away" he said with a sideways glance, making clear to the others that he suspected spies by the tone.

[Charon]

Paul had gotten a few looks when he pulled the knife on thin air and started to talk to himself. He'd gained attention now and some of the patrons were becoming wary of the crazy drunk. The pair the voice had told him about had not seemed to notice though, apparently too focused on their own conversation to notice.

-------------------------

At the inn, the villagers only stared in abject terror at Manfred's display for a few moments before they very quickly and very quietly made for the doors.

The sun was rapidly descending now, nighttime was not far away.

[Charon]

As the inn slowly silenced with the moving on of it's customers, a piercing shriek filled the air, soon followed by yelling and more screams. The entire town seemed to be in a panic that many of the mercenaries could also feel beginning to chip away at their resolve.

Outside was a flurry of activity as men, women, and children, made for their homes or their church. Father Holzman was ushering as many people as he could find into his church. Many of the guards, bolstered by the fact that the mercenaries had assisted their efforts to secure the town, took up their positions around the gaps in the walls, dragging the empty carts infront of the opennings and then, between four men, overturning it to serve as a rudimentary blockade.

Word spread quickly, the sun was not yet down, but the attack was coming.

[rhoenix]

Upon hearing the commotion outside, A determined-faced Agrilos faced the others. "Well, no time then for long, elaborate strategy. If anyone has a better plan other than 'Face them directly and bring them all down,' I'd like to hear it."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"None at all" said the wizard as he bolted for the door. The moment he got outside, he jumped up, uttered a single word and took to the air, preparing to use the moat he created as a source of sufficient water to do terrible terrible things. Of course, he was not so much flying as throwing himself into the air and then falling in a very controlled way, but was still in the air and moving faster than he could running.

[Marcao]

He made his way into the Inn and settled on watching and waiting as the others gathered about or made their entrance. He had always found that observing people was one of the easiest ways to get a hint of their personalities, hopes and ambitions. It was then that one of the mercenaries spoke to another and the topic of discussion proved to be most curious. Did it have anything to do with what he had felt himself earlier? His warding of the church had not been impeded that he had noticed but it was only after those wards had been in place that he had felt that unusual presence. It was akin to a hazy blanket that had seemed to envelop most of the town; a remarkable piece of work for it to have been so subtle.

The interesting mercenary spoke and went silent. He did not need to be a mage himself to recognize the look and mannerism of the man, a few seconds later and the cold all but announced the obvious. The end result was predictable, and he found himself sighing.

“You could have asked them to leave and theatrics aside you would have likely accomplished the same result.â€

[rhoenix]

Watching now two other mages perform their magic as they went outdoors, Agrilos felt somewhat less cautious about using his. After all, people with the right sort of senses would see that his normally complete human form would...come apart at the seams somewhat, as it were, as he encouraged the Winds' shocking potential.

Nevertheless, he was here in defense of this town. As he went outside, he swept cloak to his right, revealing his greatsword. With one smooth motion, it was unsheathed from its sleeping place on his back, and sitting comfortably on his right shoulder, held with his right hand.

The irises of his eyes, normally a solid grey, began to churn and swirl as if they were stormclouds caught in the vortex of his pupils, with lightning boiling in miniature within them irregularly. With his left hand, he made a series of motions. As if in answer, the air immediately surrounding his body began to swirl around him faster, and faster still; soon enough, the air was moving in a vortex around him fast enough to almost be visible.

That done, his left hand was dangling at his side, two good-sized throwing knives drawn from his vest were held between his fingers. The swirling movement of his irises had slowed down substantially, but had not stopped as he gazed out into the encroaching nightfall, punctuated by the very soft roaring of the air's high-speed movement around him.

[The Silence and I]

John lets out a soft sigh as the commotion breaks out; it is his only utterance as he stands up carefully, placing his odd looking staff against the wall and retrieving his backpack and shield from under the bench. He works quickly with a practiced rhythm and removes the top of his staff, drawing from within its hollow shaft an unstrung short bow. He sets its string before setting it down nearby and pulling a quiver from his pack. He places the quiver, which is made of the same odd material as his staff, on his back and uncaps it revealing a number of short arrows.

He then recaps his staff, transfers the few valuables from his pack to a leather pouch on his belt and leaves both staff and pack under the bench where he sat as they would slow him down outside. There is a sense of irritation coming from him, this is probably not how he planned on starting the night.

Finally John checks the straps of his shield and slings it over his other shoulder. Bow in hand, longsword at his side, quiver on one shoulder and shield slung over the other, John leaves the inn and makes for the closest part of the wall at half a run. With any luck the guards will be at their posts and he will be able to find and support them quickly.

[Charon]

The thick forest surrounding most of the town made easy determination of where the attack was coming from difficult for Manfred, but he did manage to spot movement coming from the Northern entrance to the town. Whatever it was it was moving back into the woods and would be gone before he could get to it. John arrived at the gate moments after the creature disappeared, and guards were still firing their arrows into the darkness when smoke and fire erupted from the trees. Two small stone cannonballs tore through the air, one bouncing off the ground just infront of the wall before shattering against the pallisade, sending a great crack through the timbers. The second ball flew over the barricade and screeched along the roof of the church Francesco had protected. The protection spell lit up in great bursts of energy as it skirted the projectile along it's outside. The stone ball smashed into a house behind the church, leaving a small hole.

The guards at the gate ducked low for cover again. "Cannons?! They didn't have Pit be damned cannons before!" cursed one of the guards as a young man ran up to John, carrying the wheellock gun, ammo, and powder for it.

"Here sir, m'lord wished you to have this for the battle."