Whispers at the Fire
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Jerrick was recently seen being followed by a lightfooted female figure while passing through Norwick, offering only a wave and maybe a thin smile as he passes, towards the Rawlins.
The female figure made her way back alone.
If anyone was curious enough to make their way to the Rawlins for any reason shortly thereafter, they would find a very patterned execution of goblins to the east. Nearly every corpse was identical.
There would be at least one Arrow in each of the bodies. Usually in the back of the body somewhere, and if there was a lack of a second arrow, it's because there was either no movement from after the first arrow, or a sword slash or two proved the fatal wound.
All the bodies are rather spread out, with only a couple falling in groups.
There are even a couple of goblins that looked like they simply fell asleep, and they either have slit throats or a simple pierce wound to the heart made by a terribly sharp blade.Jerrick was seen shortly thereafter in none too great a mood, until he was joined by company and walked out of Norwick, saying something about a month from that day.
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_A large and notably drenched looking group stumble into Norwick, most of the weary adventurers huddling close to the fire at the commons, trying to regain some warmth and dry off. From the snippets of conversation there, the observant listener might pick up the hairraising story of a ghost ship and a heroic, yet failed attempt to save a dryad's life from the dread creatures there as the water rose and magic protections faltered. While some lament the loss of their various magic items from the expedition, others seem mostly relieved to be alive.
In a possible attempt to liven the damp spirits of adventurers, two notably un-drenched bards performed a rousing play at the fire, so dramatic in rendition that one of them was near arrested for seemingly running the other through with her flashy sword. After both the greenhaired and the whitehaired actor suffered a gruesome death at each other's blades, they rose lithely and took a bow for the "Woeful Tale of Rivalry Most Bitter"._
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Gears, while still a fairly regular presence around the fire, seems to be coming slightly unhinged. He seems uneasy for no reason at times, waves his hands in front of his face, and strains his ears when no sound is being made. Sometimes he mutters to himself, looking around for a threat that isn't there.
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The militia have a new cook, Josie Prae, a woman from Peltarch whom Aramuil apparently hired on after her home was destroyed. Aramuil has also been seen tutoring her son, Wyatt, in magic and general school subjects.
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A big group of half orcs known as the Iron chain Clan, have been seen entering Norwick from the north, and headed south to hold norwick ruins where the rats roam about freely. Rummor as it that they´ve went in this hole and have crawled back from it manny hours later. All of them were extremely dirty and swetty and showing bites and scratches all over theirs massive bodys. One of them was carrying a big bag full of… stuff
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Naught but two days later, Albry, along with Colonel Mord, were seen entering his office where they engaged in a long discussion. Once the spontaneous meeting came to a close, she abruptly headed for the Gypsy Camp, returning only hours later with Alexi Shavarn whom she escorted to the prison cells. A few guards may say they saw her entering the conference room along with Alexi and the prisoner Iria. What words were exchanged have remained between the three. Several hours later during the first hours of dawn, Albry returned Iria to her cell and left Alexi to do as he wished, herself emidiately going to rest in the barracks sleeping quarters. If asked what happened between the three, she simply dismisses the discussion and continues on with what she was doing. Some may notice she has been visiting Iria frequently.
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Albryanna was seen heading into the Norwick jail, spending several hours conversing with the current captive Iria. What was said between the two she does not speak of.
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- Ad ripostes to the green clad warrior*
Doubt the catapults could fire all the way over old Norwick to reach the rawlins… unless the rawlins has encroached further north than I remember.
If so then I'd seriously not recommend angering the Druids or the Wolves.
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After listening to Sam and the surroundings citizens conversation, Albry is seen striding quietly towards the barracks, something seeming to be on her mind.
((To Lucid: Keen would be a lass, not a lad.
))(( Lucy Says: doh! thanks for pointing that out XD ))
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"oh aye" sam says with a grin "flaming pitch be the way to go…" He then turns to Keen, staring at him for a long time lost in thought.
"Ya know, that be ah good idear lad…wonder if we got anyone in tha hole."
Sam locks down his siege catapults, stows his makeshift ammunition, then heads to the norwick jail to have a look about the cells.
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A man in Green and Black plate standing nearby overhears the conversation
You really think throwing fire around so close to the Rawlinswood is a good plan? I am sure the druids, rangers and Norwickians would love to hear why you burned down part of the forest.
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- Grinning at the Felix-thumping Ad adds his bit*
Balls of pitch…you know, like on the ends of the torches ?
Can light them once they're on the catapult cup...should cause some damage too.
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Keen, punching Felix in the arm all friendly-like adds her advice as she watches the catapults with intrest
"Or if you want to save money, I'm thinking you could get one of them wizardly types to cast light spells on a buncha medium rocks, then fire them out there, though it'd need a wizard to be around, you know?"
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Felix is seen loitering around town, searching behind barrels and crates as if looking for something. However, upon running into Sam testing the catapults, he decides to give some advice:
Why not throw some incendiary kegs out there during an attack? Should light things up real nice and make targeting easier.
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Sam the Siege Engineer can be seen most days going about repairing and test firing recovered goblin catapults on the hill near the great hall. He is more than happy to review the work being done with any who ask and even demonstrates firing a rock or two deep into old norwick, using a spyglass to spot and target.
"It's just piss poor shooting at night. Cant even spot a wagon at a range in the dark. Seeing as thats when they come, I aint sure what to do about that yet…"
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brick just grins
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A poster appears at the Grapevine inn, it advertises:
@f7c8b6ef94=[size=18:f7c8b6ef94:
((If there's fees to be paid for the posters, please contact me, so I can pay them. Thanks
))
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Locrian was clearly seen by guard, and passersby guarding the southern gates, damaged from the town raid, with a rather large, hulking dire wolf at his side.
multiple people had seen the pair play about, and share meals.
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_Gossip around the town speaks of a little confrontation taking place at the central fire in Norwick. This confrotation was not of demons or goblins, but of a woman and her ex-lover. Many looked on as the man, known as Caric, was caught in several lies. Insults were thrown, and many around town heard what he did, seeming appauled by it.
When he could not create anymore excuses for himself, he left off toward the north…_
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Nothing too odd about the militia and scout meeting called in the great hall and when small groups left and headed south nothing much was said. Several hours later the sounds of battle could be heard from the south. Magic flares of light and explosions could be heard punctuating hte clash of steel and cries of pain. Slowly the sounds came closer to town and the citizens looked to the razed gates. Soon several bloody figures trickled through, one carrying the body of the scout Bow. A phalanx of Militia, Scouts, Legion and random adventurers filled the gap in the south gates.
Those brave enough to stay outdoors witnessed duels of magic flaring into the night. Fireballs blasted back and forth across the battlefield and black tenacles ravaged through the defenders, trying to pull them down. Arrows flashed back and forth through the dark, their silent flight punctuated with cries of pain and anger. Fighters charged out from the gates bravely trying to lay low the legions of twisted goblin casters. Chunks of ice fell from the sky and the earth trembled at the brutality of the onslaught…and then...silence.
Orders were barked out, wounded were tended, scouts slipped into the ruins unseen. Another clash of arms and magiks to the east and west of the mountains feet and then silence again. A force was sent south and a runner north. Guards stood at the gates and patrolled the town...and waited. Then cries of victory from the the old ruins and the force to the south returned pushing and dragging many seige engines. Final orders were issued and guards posted and scouts sent out once more to check the quiet dawn.
At dawn the citizens of the town were asked to help in clearing the area to the south. The militia and scouts moved among them as hundreds of twisted broken and burnt goblins were hauled off to be burned. It is said that the roads were inches deep in blood and the walls to the south looked like charred thorn trees from the fire and thousands of arrows imbeded in them.
