At the Morninglord's temple
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Andrew can be seen at every meeting, sitting behind most of the meetings contributors with folded arms, never asking to speak, but always listening carefully to each person speaking, and sometimes nodding firmly when he strongly agrees a particular speech.
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Standing quietly beside Ashena, Allestor curls up a warm smile as voices raise and pledges are made, waiting patiently for things to get down to the nitty gritty.
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Beourn BattleMail proudly steps forward, his beard intricately braided for the meeting. He bows lightly to Ashena before speaking.
Bout time we put this stinkin' corpse Fendon t'rest once an fer all. Ye can count me amongst yer allies when the time comes.
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From a spot near the back, unnoticed, Val makes herself known.
Whether by my life or my death I can aid you, I will. You have my sword.
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_Another meeting is called for at the Morninglord's temple, Ashena personally visiting the Silver Valley, Norwick's town hall and the Dwarven Hold to invite those willing and able to take up arms against the undead. This time, concrete plans will be made, she says, giving all those she meets a calm and solemn smile before marching off to the next place, long braid dancing against her back.
Once enough people have gathered, the young paladin raises her voice to speak:_
"Thank you all for coming today. As you know, the time of truce 'tween Norwick and the bugbear forces is drawing to a close, and Fendon rests within the crypts still, undefeated. After a period of calm, the dark undead forces are once more stirring, and rest assured, this threat - a threat to all living things - shall not go away until WE make it so!
The time to act draws neigh, e'en while the heroes of the land seem ever fewer. But we are not beaten yet, nor without allies in this fight.
The creature called the Alchemist has offered to fight with us, alongside the golems he has created for this cause. Most of you know of this being - a towering flesh golem of most unusual intellect, and great strength. He rose up against the wicked necromancers who created him and became his own master, dedicated now to fighting just these types of dark arts. I have accepted his offer of aid because our need is so dire, but also I consider him earnest and free of malice.
The proposed plan is simple, yet accomplishing it shall be no simple feat. Instead of waiting and fending Fendon off… "
She coughs, a little guilty looking at the inadvertant pun, before resuming her thread of thought:
"…we take the fight to him, aided by the golems the Alchemist has made. One group of sufficient strength shall delve deep into the crypts themselves, to seek Fendon out and issue challenge, that we may defeat his physical form. This is difficult, but possible, requiring great skills in melee and an array of backup in arcane and divine magics. Once defeated, he and his accursed blade shall turn to red mist, as we know.
Instead of following the mist or attempting to trap it, we instead pause there, allowing Fendon the time to get away, to seek his sarchophagus where he may reform with the greatest ease. The spells suggested to locate him may be used, but it is of great importance not to alert him to this as the Alchemist deems it is possible for Fendon to reform anywhere he so chooses, alongside the sword.
Maria's earlier scrying and the strong wards surrounding it suggests that Fendon's resting place likely lies beyond the purple door - which is locked and trapped, allowing none but undead to pass. But some amongst us have bypassed it before, and the Alchemist is confident he can break it down for us. At the first group's signal, a second and equally strong team shall then be put into motion, moving through the purple door with the Alchemist and several of his golems to seek out Fendon's coffin, and there end him. We must beware that the sword itself might hold considerable taint, and so allow none but those strongest of will to hold it. Ideally, we might destroy it without e'en touching it.
This is the basic layout of the plan, details yet to be hammered out in full. Whether tis feasable will largely depend upon who answers the call. That, then, is the first and most important question. Who will fight for Norwick, for Narfell, for ~life itself~?"
Ashena gazes out at the assembled men and women at the temple, her brown eyes at once soft and filled with an unyielding, steely determination.
((Help Wanted sign-ups to come))
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::Rith mentions the possibility of utilizing Discern Location, which she is capable of performing herself::
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A little later, when everyone hopefully is gathered once more, Ashena looks her notes over, speaking:
"I've tasked lady Val with learning more about Fendon's sword, with the hopes of then being able to choose the right strategy to destroy it and himself. She will be busy with this for now, but had the following suggestions for us to mull over in the meanwhile:
In terms of tracking Fendon down, Val recommends the spell Locate Object. A priest able to access third circle blessings could cast it, and if they have trained to do so, extend the duration, giving us time to follow the directions such a spell gives to find Fendon and his resting place.
If the item is warded against such things, then she suggests we may have better luck with a Find the Path spell, or even Scrying. Maria was able to scry Fendon before, after all.
A third option would negate the need to even follow him. If one was to destroy him, and then have a mage able to cast seventh circle spells on hand, they could cast Forcecage on him. It would last long enough that he would be permanently destroyed before the spell ended, and therefore all that would need to be done would be to defend the Forcecage until that time expires. To be clear, Forcecage would trap the mist for at least 26 hours, which should be long enough to see him destroyed (if he is anything like a vampire. He seems to be some Vampire/Lich hybrid in terms of powers and weaknesses, Val thinks).
The third is currently Val's preferred option, as it is tactically more sound and safer, but she is not yet sure how viable it is.
First of all, is there anyone able to cast such a spell amongst us? Secondly, could he escape or resist such a trap (we have been told he is quite able when it comes to resisting magic)? And thirdly, will trapping the mist thusly truly destroy Fendon? I am hoping her current research will give insight into the latter part, and thought that Maria may have thoughts on the first couple of suggestions."
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Ashena shakes her head to Dwin, replying:
"I am fairly certain the mercenaries are not related to Norwick's current troubles, as none of our allies have had a hand in hiring them, nor do they show the slightest interest in local problems.
I and several others rode out to meet with their leader, a Captain Novsky, hoping to learn more. While he recieved us with at least a moderate sense of politeness, t'was soon apparant that he is under orders not to reveal his true employer, nor the details of their contract. From the conversation, I deduced that these men are payed handsomely to not ask, nor answer, questions.
They are here for a specific task - 'destroying a great evil' as Novsky offhandedly put it - but I got the distinct impression that they know only as much as their employer decided they need to. They are paid to follow orders, and not to think overmuch about the why - and also, they are expressedly forbidden to involve any locals."
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Dwin clears his throat and speaks
I am heading to the mercenary camps north of the Realm, as an emissary of sorts. Does anyone here know what business they have, or who they are working with? Are they related, in any way, to these issues?
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"I see the way forwards in the following stages: find the Shroud, and with the help of this and other relics, and the strength of our allied faithfuls, perform the ritual of Hallowing. Likely Fendon will oppose the ritual, so strength of arms is needed to safe-guard the priests during their work.
Then, having at least temporarily made Norwick itself safe from the undead, we continue on deal with Fendon himself. Squire Allestor's idea has clear merit, and lady Val has further suggestions that I will present once Maria has returned, as her magical expertise will be helpful in discussing the feasability of the ideas presented. I have also asked lady Val to seek further knowledge of Fendon's sword, so that we can better choose our strategy to destroy it."
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Sirion steps out into the day light and walks to the inn, where a horse waits for him.
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Celia has been standing quietly in the background, hands clasped before her, observing what appears to be some sort of debating contest.
Her only purpose is to give mademoiselle Ashena Teroldys, her unbending support, in what ever decision is made. Human, elf, or dwarf it doesnt matter as she quietly whispers mostly to herself:
"Lichblade or not. Ze good land az ve know it iz our mutual rezponsibility to keep safe from vat ever evil iz. I 'ave lozt many brothers and sisters to a similar fate, it make no differenze to me. I'd zay ve engage.. and vait no longer
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_Sirion listen and nods. "Thank you."
"I will not wish you luck. I give you only this simple promise. Those who fall into undeath will find the experience brief."_
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Fer farks sake, lad!
Whaa ye din't sy sum like dat afores? Ah kin call fer such blessins''. Der's two thins, dough. First, iffin ah r'members, tis juss fer me an mebee three four folks mur.
'nd, ah doan thin' dem crystals kin hold it.
'nd aye, elf der must leav' now. As ee said, ee doan need ter know.
crosses arms over chest and waits for Sirion to go
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Ashena clasps her hands neatly - perhaps to avoid a schoolmistressish fingerwagging at certain parts of the crowd, perhaps not - and gives Allestor a brief, warm smile. She turns to Sirion next, solemn and sincere as ever:
"Your words have been heard, and will be heeded on their own merit - thank you Sirion. Unless you have something to add at this point, I believe it is time you left so that concrete plans can be discussed without the seed of doubt remaining in anyone's heart. I would then like Maria, Beourn and Imril to be asked back here, and if anyone can find Belia, I believe her imput would be valuable also."
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listening patiently, Allestor clears his throat at the next pause
In regards to pursuing the mist, I have a thought on that.. There is a spell of wind walking, that should allow one to travel as mist, along with four or five others for about half a day. I'm not capable of it myself, but perhaps some of the more experienced priests or druids among us are. If it could be stored in spell crystals as well for when it's needed, it could be possible to move a sizable force in that manner.
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Grunts
Kara Dumonte was a friend… a good friend, until the darkness took her. After that she weren't Kara any longer, but somethin' else.
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_"Maria might be able to learn something…both Fendon and his blade are the stuff of legend. The collective memory of the races permeates the very ether of the cosmos. If she does not have the spell, I will enscribe it upon a scroll."
"My most vocal and respected critic, the paladin and songstress Val, would also be a good person to speak to, particularly if Fendon's past is tied to Kara DuMonte." He speaks the name with no hesitation, though others in the room may gasp and make signs against evil._
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Mebee tis un uv dose days….Vanderkaus shrugs and nudges Dwin back
Er mebee tis juss as sumun said, emotional business...Ah would be emotional in 'is shoes... ah means, ah wus loike 'ims first time a atended un uv dese meetins, back in da day...
Iffin sumun culd go fetch 'ims, t'wuld be nice. Leasts 'ee made da oder un spill da beans.
Ah wus unce foitin dis Fark Fendons in 'is place, ah doan like da idea uv doin dat agains, but iffin dass da path we choose, yas aw kin count on me axe.... Noun wull say ah'm un coward, fer farks sake.
Dough, split 'nd conquer seems like un nice ahdea ter me. Mebee we could draw sum uv his forces out 'nd a selected few kin make da final strike... Du hells do h know...
Is der anyway ter know where id dis specail place uv Fendon's?
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Dwin stares at the ornery elf, with a deadpan expression.
I dinnae know what you are talking about, lad. Seems to me that there is a very high level of emotion and paranoia in this room, which, under the circumstances makes sense.
