3. Whispers at the Fire

Whispers at the Fire


  • Calendel //who has obviously been gone to long what with people setting fire in his office// seems to be indicating to locals asking about the activity that he really has no idea why anyone would set fire to the office. He also seems quite exhausted having just recently returned from a mission in Chauntea's name to assist Farmers of the region with planning of their harvests.


  • _Dwin was seen stomping around the grounds angrily, mumbling about "long-armed, long-nosed, good-fer-nuthin, tool-dropping, fire-setting gnomes."

    Shortly afterwards, several red cloaks are seen posting notices within the realm with a crudely drawn picture of a gnome, the word 'Drogo' at the top of the poster, and "2500 gold reward" written at the bottom. Anyone interested should speak to the Chancellor, his advisors, or a Militia officer._


  • There was a fire in the Great Hall, apparently in the advisor's office. Accused of the crime is the already wanted criminal Drogo the gnome; rumour has it that a bounty will be forthcoming for the troublemaker and that he is also wanted for another arson.

  • S

    Word has it several wagons laden with large crates and a chest manned by a dozen large armored men and women rolled into town and stopped out side the Norwick Trade Hall. Apparently one of the members of the wagon team got out and had a long conversation with a dwarf therein which seemed to have ended when the large chest carried red faced by the biggest four was taken inside and left there. Half a dozen exquisitely crafted suits of silver and steel plate were then seen packed piece by piece into the boxes which seemed to be full of down feathers. Word has it the wagons were owned by some local merchants called Tyr's Choice Goods and was then seen departing North.


  • People discuss the three stone statues hauled into the town by the guard. One was a huge blocky half orc that some kept calling Grag. It almost broke the wagon and the oxen barely made it up the hill to the town proper. A merchant or two did a lively business in sellin aids to trun the figures back to flesh. It turns out the other two were and elf by the name of Suldin and a human named Q.

    Conversations that night rolled around the fires of demons near the old town defenses and twisted goblins and Minotaurs appearing and taunting the defenders.


  • ((Apologies for any names I misspelll or leave out.))

    Spotted by Aloura and a few others, dretches were seen to summoned through a portal in the Old Norwick ruins. The demons gathered toward t he menhir just south of the ruins.

    That is where Aloura, Elyl, Z, Tomo and Cherry found them attempting to opena direct pathway to their home plane. According to Cherry if the demons were to succeed, it could quiet difficult to close the pathway once it was established and left open by the demons.

    Aloura, Elyl, Z and Tomo dandled the dretches in combat while Cherry disconnected, what she descrribed as a dark, sickly purple path that lead back to the demon's home plane. Explaining how she did probably proved just as confusing as just a purple path is. Sufice to say Aloura, Elyll, Z and Tomo put down all the demons, ensuring they could not try again. A corrupted goblin shaman or caster was seen by the group immediately afte. I ran off and disappeared. If the corrupted greenskin was responsible for bringing the demons to the ruins and menhir in the first place was unclear.

    Upon returning to town, Elyl alerted the rest of the guard.


  • ((way to goDwin, give the dm's an escuse to turn the creek into the new "well", were gonna have hell to pay and its all gonna come from Ponces creek..))


  • Dwin emerges from the Great Hall and watches the tail end of the altercation with his advisers and the old farmer that Dwin has known for decades. He approaches slowly…

    Earlscott the Bald! Is that you? Beard-longer, and head-balder… can't say I don't know the feeling! I'd also say ya aint changed much since I first met ya...still rousin folks fer a fight!

    Dwin grins as he walks over to the bearded man and clasps his hand and pats him on the shoulder.

    Earlscott, ya know ya can always come and holler at me. Don't take it out on these lads–they are just acting on my orders. You know how dedicated young lads can be...

    Dwin pats him on the shoulder in almost a fatherly way with this last remark.

    Now, if anyone has a reason to despise the furballs its you… Don't think fer one second I've fergotten Ponce's devotion -- and his ultimate sacrifice for this land. Its folks like him, who's memory keeps our Militia honorable and dedicated.

    Dwin turns to the folks assembled.

    Lads and lasses, this here is Earlscott the Bald. Some o you may remember his son, Ponce, who served under me during the Bugbear invasions and gave his life defending our gates. May he rest in eternal peace.

    He turns back to Earlscott now, more serious.

    That furball we had here… I had to take a chance and see if his information was valuable. Turns out it was. That's a good thing. All of my men had orders, and I swear to ya they were never more than a heartbeat away, from slittin' his furball throat if he presented any problems.

    All I am after is to make Norwick safer for folks like you, and all these folks around here... that's it. If it meant puttin' a bugbears jaw back on so he could give us some information, so be it. There was no disrespect meant, to you or to Ponce and our memories of him. I hope you understand me there.

    Dwin calls Fendon over from wherever he was standing doing nothing of worth.

    Fendon, all this talk gives me an idea. Tis a sad thing when memories of good folks get lost like leaves floatin down a stream….

    I'd like to name that stream next to the Mills in the east, which up until this moment has no name... Let's name it "Ponce's Creek." Its a never-endin source of water that will help both those mills, the farms, and Norwick, prosper... and it seems like a good way to memorialize a fallen hero like 'im. its a reliable source of water, and no one will ever be able to blame Ponce's creek fer goin' dry.*

    Talk to a woodcrafter and have a sign made which names the creek, and dedicates it to "Ponce, Son of Earlscott the Bald, proud and dedicated citizens of the Realm".

    He turns back to Earlscott, smiling again.

    Only if that's alright with you, of course, Earlscott…

    • sorry, i just couldnt let a post about Ponce go without mentioning the word blame someplace…

  • Those around the crafters hall recently speak of a confrontation. Aramuil and Elyl on one side and a commoner (whose name no one present seems to know) on the other. Upset over the town of Noriwck aiding and harboring a sworn enemy, the commoner (an older gentleman with a greying beard - a farmer most say) did his best to light a fire under the good people of Norwick that sit idly by, wasting their lives and voices around a damn cooking pot whilst the governing few choose to bring a dangerous and vile enemy to their harth and allow it there to rest and enjoy the caring touch and warmth of lady Tristina - all in the name of "information." Quite the exchange took place, a heated argument over such actions.

    Grumbling and griping by a few ask how it is that one put into place to -advise- the ruling elite of Norwick in matters reagrding the arcane would be allowed to command orders to the town guard.


  • _As a few days pass and the majority of townsfolk seem beguiled by the bread and circuses that the noble dwarf Dwin and the other officials offer to appease the anger over the town harboring a bugbear.

    The loud gatherings dwindle to little more than a few grumpy individuals that make their anger well-known to any that would listen. Most pay little attention to the rambling and even those few harboring ill-will eventually stop their rants… but one man continues his vigil, standing back from the apothocary and watching... watching and waiting._


  • _The Chancellor and his Gold cloaked personal guard Farly start making their rounds throughout town, laughing and trying to raise smiles from the local folks that are understandibly confused, upset, angry, or a combination of all three.
    Its clear that a dwarf-joke or two isn't enough to cut the tension.

    Later that day, several rothe-drawn carts enter town from the north filled with ale kegs and other foodstuffs. Farly directs the dwarven deliverymen towards "chef" so that Ivor can begin cooking._

    Norwickians! I don't deny these are trying times, and I thank you all for your trust in leadership. Harboring furballs in our Healing-house? I know, I know… It sounds utterly mad. I assure you that you and your families were never in danger--and in fact, will be safer as a result!

    Dwin gestures to the feast area already being set up Come all! Let's enjoy a simple feast together and do what Norwick does best; hold together as one. I'll be servin' the rothe-ribs myself so get in line, grab an ale, and let's all enjoy ourselves!

    Redcloaks! You too! Just keep the ale-drinkin' to an acceptable minimum. Dwin says this while looking directly at Chet


  • The guards at the apothecary go back to regular duty, and word gradually leaks out that the bugbear isn't at the apothecary anymore. Of course, nobody seems to know where it was, or how it left without anyone noticing; but at teh very least the townsfolk stop grumbling and complaining.


  • The crowds disperse at the show of force from guard and advisor, the townsfolk grumbling and continuing to complain in the safety of their homes and drinking halls instead. The common folk of Norwick still openly call for the death of the bugbear over the next few days, but none have dared to take actions in to their own hands as of yet…

  • C

    Rumors and local hearsay have it that the mysterious kidnappings and murders of late can be linked to the actions (or inactions) of an elven druidess. It is said that because of her, more innocent lives will be taken. What exactly it is that she did seems to be unclear, ranging from the impossible to the overly intricate, depending on which drunken local the information is being spewed from.


  • A sudden strike of lightning rents the sky and thunder booms as Aramuil walks up, his lightning-white cloak flapping in a sudden harsh, cold wind. He glares at the assembled townsfolk who have gathered with their torches and the like for a moment, before speaking.

    "We keep a bugbear in the apothecary to tell us about enemies that threaten your very lives, the daemonic goblins and undead that threaten this town, but all you people can think of is to satisfy your bloodlust?! Disperse and go back to your homes, let those who are trying to defend you deal with the bugbear; if you were in danger from the bugbear, we wouldn't let it live. Disperse or myself and the guards shall do so forcefully!"

    The townsfolk might not notice it, but Aramuil gestures slightly and lightning again cracks across the sky, followed by thunder.

    ((Note: Aramuil used the spells Hallucinatory Terrain to make Norwick look stormy, Gust of Wind for the wind and a Prestidigitation for the sound effects))


  • Cyrian pushes his way through the mob until he gets to the front, he then turns and as loud as he can shouts out over the sound of the mob, that if they dont disperse immediately they will be dealt with the old fashioned way, and as if you emphasise a point he rears back with his mighty gauntleted fist and punches the trunk of a nearby tree sending leaves falling to the ground and leaving an impressive dent in the bark, then looks out over the croud to see who will be first.


  • Chet's sweatin it out, having drawn the short straw for guard duty at the apothecary. He spots davos standing his ground at the great hall wasting his breath trying to order the crowd to disperse.

    "Hells … I been dragged off by deaders, beat silly by tree wieldin ogres, shot up by gobs...an now 'bout ta get mobbed oer a damned buggered bear!"

    With a grunt, he draws himself up to look as menacing as someone named chet possibly could and follows suit, ordering the crowd to disperse … to little effect.


  • _A crowd of commonfolk has been gathering now and again outside the Apothocary and then moving to the Great Hall. Angst and anger over the harboring of a foul beast the catalyst for the gathering, the crowd chants "KILL THE BEAST" as they gather. Some carry torches and others carry pitchforks but their intent is the same…

    Those listening to the mumbling and grumbling of the group overhear conversations calling for the death of the bugbear know as Tomek and any like him._


  • Aramuil reassures the townsfolks, and Tristina and Kia that he won't harm anyone, and is only a temporary guest of Norwick. Furthermore, Aramuil seems to regularly check on the bugbears condition; as if waiting for him to recover fully. The elven mage further insures townsfolk that if the bugbear causes any trouble he will deal with the creature himself.


  • _Commoners and guardsmen alike begin to gossip over the latest guest at the apothecary, a bugbear who people are calling Tomek. Most seem appalled at the fact a bugbear is being treated for wounds and staying in the company of the towns healers. Most common folk seem to think the beast is too dangerous to be treated so kindly… that it belongs behind bars, they say, or better yet on a pike set on the wall to ward away others of his kind.

    Redcloaks have been posted within the apothecary and both Trista and Kia send all those asking about Tomek to the Chancellor and his Advisor. No one is admitted to see the creature without permission from them first. Only the barracks chef Ivor seems to come and go freely to deliver buckets of foul smelling slop he calls "stew", which most assume must be some strange bugbear dish ... or a horrible new method of torture recently invented by the oddball chef._