New Whispers at the Fire



  • Scoffs Clean out yer ears an listen, fool. Ye get strong by huntin' for yourself and fendin' fer yerself - not sittin' on yer arse and takin' handouts.



  • Someone rolling his eyes, passing by maybe, wearing a miner's outfit speaks out of the blue after listening to the commontion:

    "so that's what the Chauntea priest wants you to do. You, a former town of relentless warriors. He wants you to grow weak, to starve so you can't defend your homes not even yourselves. After such display of courage coming from one of your kind, they suggest you to dishonor something you truly earned. -- Grow strong? I don't think so. Grow weak: that's a good one grain godess."



  • @darkspyr said in New Whispers at the Fire:

    The Tormtar Priest, Simon Sgier pulls Master Z aside as soon as he can. He informs him that the so called gift is a boon from one who survived the Wild hunt through the Nars. As such it is freely given; sell it, dry or salt and store it for times of need or toss it away, the promise was made in good faith and would last for 1 year. No strings attached, no debts owed by any, the price had already been paid.

    Then I strongly urge folks ta sell it instead of eatin' it. Take the coin an' do some good with it.

    They want ya ta git fat, lazy, and dependent on others ta supply yer food. Ta lose yer skills as a hunter and provider for yer family. You gonna let some stranger provide fer yer wife? Yer children? suspiciously Nay...

    Do not fall fer the trap...they can't be trusted. It's only a matter of time 'fore they pick another one of us ta hunt...and that one may not be so lucky ta survive. The next one may be you. And, if ya take their "gifts," you ain't gonna be ready...yer gonna be soft.

    Sell the meat. Heads towards the campfire to continue to conversation with any who will listen



  • "The price for this service has already been paid. We are not ones to back out on a holy promise. Ask among your own kind if you want to know more."

    The malarite returns to the woods, and will continue to bring the meat in the following days. Some of the villagers heed Z's word and do not touch the meat. Others make use of it, stating that it allows them to grow more domesticated animals as less will have to be butchered. A certain tree-hating dwarven merchant seem most interested in the meat, for one reason or another hoarding barrels full of salted meat in his house.



  • The Tormtar Priest, Simon Sgier pulls Master Z aside as soon as he can. He informs him that the so called gift is a boon from one who survived the Wild hunt through the Nars. As such it is freely given; sell it, dry or salt and store it for times of need or toss it away, the promise was made in good faith and would last for 1 year. No strings attached, no debts owed by any, the price had already been paid.



  • @wywernywin said in New Whispers at the Fire:

    @speedy_z_ said in New Whispers at the Fire:

    ///Who are they? Can he tell just by looking at them?
    Does the town seem to be expecting the meat or is it unexpected?

    The first deliveries seem unexpected. Soon the villagers get used to it though. If you spend your night watching, you'd notice they bear symbols of Malar.

    Day 1 ((which is why I emphasized the "first delivery" in my initial post)) Z states loud enough for the other villagers to hear

    I'm not sure where y'all heard we was in need of yer handouts, but we don't. We ain't weak. Pauses for that to sink in

    We get along just fine on our own, and we watch out fer our own. If someone in our community needs help, we'll be the ones helpin' them. We don't take handouts here in Norwick...especially from strangers.

    That said, you know who needs handouts? Them city folk up in Peltarch. Them's the types ta take yer handouts. They probably won't even question where they be comin' from.

    They got all kinds of folks starvin' ta death on the docks. So...take yer meat up north n give it to the city folks. We don't need it.

    He will then spend his time (and whatever influence he has on the commoners) to strongly advise that they do not accept these handout. Mainly because they simply don't need them, but also because nothing good will come out of it - there's always a catch when dealing with outsiders.



  • @speedy_z_ said in New Whispers at the Fire:

    ///Who are they? Can he tell just by looking at them?
    Does the town seem to be expecting the meat or is it unexpected?

    The first deliveries seem unexpected. Soon the villagers get used to it though. If you spend your night watching, you'd notice they bear symbols of Malar.



  • @wywernywin said in New Whispers at the Fire:

    Plenty of fresh meat begins arriving at the south gate, enough to provide almost all of the meat consumed in the town of Norwick. Deer, bear, moose, birds. Guards mention that they occasionally see people in red-and-black clothing bringing it in at the night. The meat seems clean of all poison and disease.

    ((This will continue for one IG year(RL month) or until otherwise noted))

    The crafter, farmer, and priest known as Z casually wipes his calloused hands on an old rag as he exits the craft hall. He curiously watches the first delivery.

    Hmmm...

    ///Who are they? Can he tell just by looking at them?
    Does the town seem to be expecting the meat or is it unexpected?



  • @wywernywin

    Nate remarks, during one of his passages through Norwick: "Perhaps the Malarites of the Druid Circle feel generous."



  • Plenty of fresh meat begins arriving at the south gate, enough to provide almost all of the meat consumed in the town of Norwick. Deer, bear, moose, birds. Guards mention that they occasionally see people in red-and-black clothing bringing it in at the night. The meat seems clean of all poison and disease.

    ((This will continue for one IG year(RL month) or until otherwise noted))



  • Travelers coming up from the south were astonished to see so many pools of blood staining the grass outside Norwick's South Gate. The gate and stone walls seemed undamaged, and no blood stains were visible inside. But both inner south gates were gone and Norwick Militia stood guard in the road. "Just a big goblin gate attack," one of them said. Not to worry.


    AubreyMaturin



  • After a rather gruesome attack on Norwick, Salin V is seen walking into the keep with a line of militia men and women saluting him and bidding him farewell. Where is the mage going, now that the town actually needs him?



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  • Not long after the gates had been replaced, a group of adventurers appeared at the south gate with two strange golems. At Unen's request, the golems were let through Norwick under careful watch. The golems seemed passive, and even seemed to be trailing along behind Warziver as if he were their master.

    "Aye I had to shift the cages around to store them buggers." The beastmaster was heard saying in the grapevine. "Weird, polite little things."



  • The Siege of Norwick, they're calling it. The army of thugs and criminals known as the Painters bashing at their doors, and the Militia struggling to fend them off. By the time the fighting ended, the Painter camp was broken, numerous bodies littered the floor and... not all of them were enemies. The Milita suffered noticeable losses, backed up by Foreign soldiers, and adventurers from elsewhere, which stopped the damage being as bad as it could be... but the mood was still grim.

    It was because of this solemn mood of loss... that the next occurrence happened. The adventurers split their loot, and the overlooking mourners took offense to what the whispers call "childishness" and arrogance. The first voice was from an angry dwarf, the next from a farmer, and soon the crowd grew in size and anger. No longer are they hailed as heroes, but scumbags. The populace whisper not of their deeds, but of the Militia. And the adventurers are jeered and mocked as "getting in the way"

    There are some, mostly those at the gates, who still agree they were a positive force. But it is washed away in a sea of angry mourning, in a town frightened of another war.