Theatre opened for Refugees of Norwick
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_True to her word, the doors of the Peltarch Theatre have been thrown open to the refugees. Val is in attendance with her adopted son Bill, she checks each individual briefly that comes in for signs of injury or infection, giving preference for entrance to women, children, the elderly, and the wounded.
Those who need medical attention are sent to the healers straight away, even if their wounds are minor so as to not risk disease.
The chairs that would normally take up the central theatre space have been removed for pallets to be put down, and the stage set up as a triage, so that there is some seperation of the wounded from the healthy. Partitions are put up from the set storage to give families some privacy where possible, but all in all it seems to be a form of organised chaos.
Meals are made available daily for those in the theatre, and for those who are milling around outside to see their loved ones. All through this, Val speaks kindly to those who are present, encouraging them to be strong and to look to the future and the goodly gods for the hope of renewal._
– Actions of others --
Unen received a donation of aproxamately 2200 gold, he goes about getting fresh food and water, blankets, toys for the children, books, medicine. He also pays for nannies and nurses to be around in case of anything that might happen. He spends all the money suprisingly on helpful things, to a gold
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_At the invitation of Unen, Thistle works the crowd of refugees, rarely seeming to rest. She hands out food as it is available, blankets and food as she is allowed, and plays her harp softly to soothe any child that may awake from a nightmare.
Often enough she is heard telling stories, and though the region changes, and the names, there is a common them amongst all, multiple variations of historical tales that talk of dark times and hardships, always ending with good conquering evil._
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Several hundred citizens of the Silver Valley have been evacuated and sorted in with the other refugees as space allows, again with preference being given to the wounded, the women, the children, and the elderly.
//OOC: This thread started in the Bardic College forums and has been moved here so that others can get involved. If your PC would do something to help out, please feel free to post! All help is appreciated in a time of war.
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From the level below the stage, or perhaps even below that, a voice can be heard complaining quite loudly about a misuse of the beautiful theatre. Words like "Temple" and "bloody usurpers!" are among the clearest outbursts. Clearly the head master; someone who has thus far chosen not to mingle with the refugees has a clear issue with funerary rites being held on his stage…
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Several days after the murder of a young man outside the Theatre, Val reorganises the main stage with a small non-descript altar and a coffin, draped with a Norwick flag. She keeps the stage clear of everyone else, and passes word around that she will hold a funeral for the fallen. Once the Theatre is organised and calm, she speaks up, her voice strong and clear.
I welcome all of you to this sombre ocassion, for today we celebrate the life and sacrifice of Bo Strondheim.
She motions to the coffin draped with the flag.
I'm not going to lie to you. I don't know Bo, I never knew him as anything more than another young man who lived in Norwick and found safety here after the fall of his home. That is, until his untimely death.
A drunkard was sold a sword by a man who didn't realise what he was doing, and with hate in his heart that drunkard struck out at what he thought was the source of his hard life. He attacked an innocent woman, and her son, Bo, rose to defend her.
He was not a soldier, he was not a warrior or an adventurer. He was a young man, with rough clothes and a dagger in his belt, facing a drunk, violent, selfish man. He was probably afraid for his life, and he didn't ask for this to happen. But he stood his ground, and he defended the woman he loved, the woman who had given him life, to the bitter end. That last choice he made, changed him from being a young man into a warrior.
Bo died to save what he loved. He should never have had to make that choice, but life is unfair, and we cannot decide what fate we will receive… we can only choose how we face it. His death was not good thing, it was a tragedy, a horrible waste of precious life.
You have all lost much. WE have all lost much. But Bo's sacrifice should serve as an example to us all, of what it means to love. Sometimes, loving something means that we have to stand up and defend it. We don't always win, we don't always survive, but we will stand up for what we love, and we will defend it to the bitter end.
You, are Norwick. And Norwick has lost much. But I know in my heart that you love your homes, and you love your people, and most of all, you love what it is to be a people unbowed. There is a fight coming, against a big, selfish, greedy jerk. He may be tall and furry, but that doesn't matter, cos he's got a sword, and he wants to take everything you love from you.
Let Bo's sacrifice serve as an example for you all, for what it means to love something more than yourself. May he rest in peace, as a true child of Norwick, as an honoured warrior. Let us honour his sacrifice in the weeks and months to come.
May the Red Knight give him peace.
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Several large boxes are delievered to the bardic college from Renaldo's. They are addressed to Unen's attention. Within the boxes are a variety of musical instrument, mostly consisting of drums and horns, though a few stringed instruments are included. Another box is filled with paint, brushes and canvases. A simple note is attached to one of the packages, though it is not signed.
@8fcddb4371:
"Unen,
Do let me know if anything else is needed. And please please encourage the children to show off their musical ability to the headmaster. I am sure he will be most pleased to hear the beautiful music they create and will be happy to help shape future students."
((2k burned to pay for the artistic donation.))
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Once Junior is sure all her kin are settled she gathers all the Silver Valley warriors she can find and addresses them outside the Bardic College. She climbs a lamp post to make sure everyone can see her.
_"Warriors of the Silver Valley! Our people are safe, but our home is in the enemy's hands! I won't stand for it!"SO!"
"I'M TAKING MY FEET…"_ She motions to her feet. _"AND I'M GOING DOWN SOUTH…"
"AND I'M GOING TO KICK THAT BUGBEAR'S ASS SO HARD THAT THE NEXT OSTRAFROG WANNABE IS GONNA FEEL IT!"
TO WAR!!!"_
She jumps down and sprints for the south, hopefully with a few Dragoons sprinting with her.
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The halforc bard Bon Ausbourn has been helping with a lot of the heavy lifting and general body work in order to help the refugees settle in. In the evenings he will usually play his lute to help cheer folks and then eventually lul them to sleep.
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after hearing the announcement Unen gets up from playing games with the children and walks towards the library. "a book about monsters! and adventure! and cooking! Perfect!" He spends the rest of his day teaching whomever is interested to read…but also about monsters.
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_Elidur retreats into his private quarters, there's no way he's helping out with livestock and dirty people grubbing up his beautiful college. Despite not showing face, he orders casks of wine drawn up from the masters' own cellar; he also throws the idea that perhaps with so many gathered people it might be a nice idea to improve their literacy; as a result, all current Bardic College students are now required to spend at least one hour each day during the crisis teaching both reading and writing to what refugees are willing.
Apprentices are encouraged also to take part in the grand illumination, the teaching of Narfell's simple folk; this will potentially improve their chances of joining the College Masters and should be treated as a most prestigious chance._
"Oh damn it all! Just when we get rid of plague victims off the stage we're once again accommodating a host of muddy barbarians!" he rants… "Very well, students - apprentices, its up to you - turn these people around, I expect you to educate them in the ways of proper society! They're not living here like … like... like 'cave' people! Now be about your duties, my darlings. Shine beautifully and you may find yourself in a fancy new room~!"
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Several wagons appear outside the Bard College filled with food, blankets, medicinal supplies and other needed things to keep the refugees well taken care of. Escorting wagons are Seafarer workers and guardsmen. The head Seafarer, a young women who introduces herself as Penelope offers greetings to the bards and then oversees the distribution of the supplies to the refugees themselves. After all is given out, the wagons roll off, the woman telling the College these items are courtesy of Lord Chadwick Whyte and the Seafarer Guild before heading off as well.
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Late in the evening Imril can be seen speaking with Unen in the commons, in between rushing to defend the south gate. Their conversation is centered on Imril's wish to take some of the children from the refugee camp on an outing, to help him make more Maple Sugar, which the kids can then keep of course.
Early the next morning, a note in fine elven penmanship is delivered to Lady Val Kyrie.
_Mistress Kyrie,
I write to you today on a matter regarding the many refugees, specifically children, which seem to be in your care at the Peltarch Theater. It is my desire to assist this unfortunate souls and I offer my services to that end. I would like to ask your permission, or the permission of whomever is in charge of the refugees, if you can put me in contact with that person, to take several of the children of Norwick and the Valley on an outing.
My hope is this outing will give the children something to take their minds off the terrible tragedy that has befallen us all. I also wish to share with them a tradition of my family and my homeland. To show them that even in this dark hour, we must uphold our traditions, and hope, for the clouds will recede and the sun shin on Norwick and the Valley once more.
I would like to take the children on a outing to make Maple Sugar, some of which I passed out at the Theater earlier this week. The run of sap is still going and I wish to take advantage of it while it lasts. I think that the children would have a good time in helping me with this task. Others of my Kindred, including Lady Ama'bael, have agreed to help me keep tabs on the little ones. I assure you nothing will happen to them.
Please consider my offer and get back to me as soon as is convenient.
I await your replyImril Teb'rin_
Imril awaits a reply.
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Allestor Hollins is also seen regularly tending to the needs of the refugees since their arrival in the city. Applying his skills as a healer, both magical and conventional to any injured or ill, and generally lending a hand (or a shoulder) wherever it seems to be needed. Despite the dire times, his demeanor stays pleasant and approachable, his tone always warm and assuring.
Every few hours he makes a trip to the Temple of the Triad, welcoming any who wish to join him in lifting his prayers to Ilmater. A quick swing to the soup kitchen for a shift sees him start his rounds all over again.
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Cecil now seems to be staying there too, talking often with Val, and spending a lot of time in the company of a young fellow named Bill, seemingly teaching him things about … well, what Cecil knows best. Guarding!
He visits long and often with the citizens of Norwick, reassuring, bringing food here and there from his own pack, and basically making himself VERY visible, inside the college and out among any refugees outside, too.
Those, he ensures that the camps they make are safe, and that any lurking types are thoroughly discouraged from taking advantage of the disadvantaged.
Breaking up any fights, mediating arguments, and standard duties he used to perform are done with his usual smile and when necessary, and gentle hand to lift an offender out of the problem completely.
It seems the Giant Redcloak is content to bide his time for now, provided he can keep as many of his people safe as possible.
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_After assisting with the escorting of the Folk from the Silver Valley into the city, Imril Teb'rin can be seen setting up a small camp just outside the walls of the city to the west.
Soon several tripods with large copper pots are hanging over a large fire. Into these Imril pours large buckets of Maple sap gathered from the trees on the local farms near the outskirts of the city. After some discussion Imril agreed to pay the local farmers for the sap if they would not donate the right for him to collect it.
After several days and nights of constant boiling, sometimes amid a soft chanting or praying in elven, Imril is seen carrying several baskets with help from some of the lads of the City to were the refugees are housed.
There he reviles the fruits of his labor, baskets full of sweet, light brown blocks of Maple Sugar. Poured into molds so that they resemble leaves or animals or stars.
Imril diligently hands out the sweet sugary blocks to all the displaced children he can till his supply is exhausted.
He keeps one small piece for himself, which he eats with great relish, some hear him mutter afterwards "For Family"…..before he departs._
((OOC I can trash some gold IG if the DM's wish for my payment to the farmers for tapping their trees, just let me know how much?))
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The entire population of the Silver Valley and their livestock show up at the theater escorted by the Dragoons, a few elves, and some other kind residents of Peltarch.
Junior speaks up.
"Hi theater folks! How much more room do you got?"
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_In what some would dub an uncharacteristic act of charity, Sirion Goldthane is seen among the refugees, binding wounds, setting breaks, and offering salves and liniments to injuries too small or numerous to be treated by any priestly or bardic volunteers. He does so for the most part in silence, asks for no praise, and casts a withering stare upon any who attempt to reward him. He's gotten really good at that stare too. It's chilly. If his assistance is refused, he moves on without a word, and never returns to offer it again no matter how clear one's suffering is.
Suddenly it doesn't seem quite so uncharacteristic after all._
