Jiyyd Rumors
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Sharn is dead, the severed and toothless head catapulted into the orc lines by jubilant dwarves. The Legion, Spellweaver and the Order of the Phoenix all united in a brutal spearpoint punching through the forces of orcs and giants arrayed in the Coldstone foothills before assaulting the higher peaks and slaying many of the Frost Giant command.
After heavy fighting and some regrettable but light casualties, the heroes returned ferried in the claws of a Red dragon. Understandably, morale is much higher amongst the defenders.
((Thanks to Nilla, Andelas, Scutum and Coann for DMing and the many many players that slogged through the mammoth and rather tense expedition))
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_Aelthas has been seen walking around Jiyyd now, he moves slowly and keeps to himself most times, only giving small nods to anyone he sees.
He usually sits under one of the trees for awhile, reading a book quietly. He glances up at any sudden movements, his eyes, one green, one black, scanning the area slowly before returning to his book._
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A group of Sheshae elves followed a rotting smell into Jiyyd, finding a number of baby heads sans eyes in the trash. They headed off towards the swamp, lead by a bloodhound by the name of Yaervan, finding another trash bin filled with dead and chopped children on the way. Joined by a few others, the group entered the swamp, and after many hours arrived back in Jiyyd, looking tired and disturbed. Yaervan wasn't with them though. Apparantly he was "taken by the fires."
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Jeremy has been seen at the warfront constantly now, fighting in any battle or skirmish he can. When asked about his strange behaviour in protecting places he dosen't even care about, he simply responds with "It's like the good ol' days aye."
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That very big flat rock not to far from the entrance to the former worg cave has been decorated with a charcole drawing.
A person with long hair and pointy ears stands with hands outstretched in supplication. A few gems have been stuck onto the palms with a little drop of green wax just to keep them in place.
Nearby, a gigantic figure stands over some swirly wirey bits. A smudged cloud going most of the way up the giant's legs represents an explosion. Droplets of blood from the dead worg at the base of the rock mar the giant's skin.
Written underneath in large letting of the trade tongue is first 'Sorry' and then, below, 'Thank you'.
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Smoke rises from the battlefield south of Jiyyd, As a great Akanaxan warrior was sent away on a funeral pyre.
"In time we will meet you in the fields brother."
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*Lyte can be heard telling the tale of the brave demise of one of the clan of mostly naked defenders from afar, named Cleon, who charged along beside her to destroy a fiendish orc catapult team who was lobbing death at the Jiyyd defenses at the beginnings of the mighty assault the past week that coincided with Norwick's fall.
She holds his distinctive cape, and searches around for the fellows equally undressed mates, without immediate success, to return to them his possessions.
She laments his death, which she thinks came due to his running faster in his nakedness than she could in her plate, to meet the enemy. She composes a bit of verse, in memory of his very brave death, proving convincingly, that she is no bard.*
_"Oh, fast running man,
In little but your drawers,
Bravery you wore, but little…
Little more."_
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_Raver, William, Steelfin and several others are overheard near the Town Fires discussing new options for defense and offense.
Many feel that Jiyyd is still not safe, and the women and children refugees from Norwick need to be moved further north, to the Camp or to Peltarch.Raver is heard to say the Camp is overflowing with women and children from the Sisterhood and Jiyyd…. but no one is gonna be turned away._
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The Crafters Hall is not the only door left open around Jiyyd. With all the kids, and most the sisters having left the Sisterhood, there are dozens of beds to be found in the large estate. The crimson haired leader is seen escorting any and all that need a place to rest inside, while volunteers work to heal and feed those in need.
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Dwin opens the doors of the Crafters hall and leaves all of the forges lit so that any displaced refugees can have warm shelter. He also mentions to anyone that is interested that the caves of the Gypsie Camp, and specifically his large cavern, Cave Duj, are open and ready for any families with small children or gray beards.
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After Norwick was taken, a small procession of obviously magical folk, led by a matronly woman with warm brown eyes, a gnome and a golem, proceeded through town to the Emerald Tower in the Silver Valley. The gnome and the golem returned the way they came, and the matronly woman, apparently the Keeper's wife, Mirna, is frequently seen among the refugees, tending to their various needs, but also asking them questions and making lists, helping Mord and Locrian figure out who is there, and who might be missing.
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Several sargeants in bloodied Norwick Militia gear move about town talking to all the refugees and taking down names. They seem grim but continue on.
As the new day begins they move to their troops, camped out near the sisterhood. They nod as they walk through the camp. Orders are issued and the tropps come together. No harsh words this day. Words to catch their attention. Words to focus their tired bewildered minds. Words to start a fire in the bellies. Words to turn the fire to ice. Armor and weapons are cleaned and the camp is policed by grim faced warriors. A rotating guard is set for the Crossroads
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A man wearing a black and crimson mask, in black and grey clothing, has been seen hurrying about Jiyyd, seeming to be looking for someone.
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*Lyte stumbles through the gates of Jiyyd, limping badly. Her sword has small chips along it's fine edge, and her armor is badly damaged. She is covered, head to toe, in blood, seemingly more than she could possibly have in her whole body.
It drips behind her as she walks, and she leaves bloody footprints back towards the western defense.
She pauses at the spot where she normally stands guard, and nearly topples over as she undoes her gore splattered helm, letting it fall to the ground with a splat in the dust of the afternoon.
Sheathing her sword, she mumbles something about scores of the enemy's finest shock troop giants being no more…stopping mid sentence, as she gapes open mouthed at the opening gates behind her.
A long line of Norwick residents, militia, shopkeepers trudge within. Many are wounded. Few have possessions. It seems endless.
Norwick, barbarian village reknown, home to many beloved characters reknown far and wide, has fallen.
Lyte sits down hard on the rock she was standing on, shocked by the news from the first bedraggled refugee.
Other defenders rush out bravely towards Norwick, led by Genzir, the Master of the Keep, in an attempt to take back the village.
Lyte, once past the initial feelings of horror, prudently issues orders for wagons to loaded with spare wooden baracades for Sam's Hill, to be sent at once to tie to the defenses that are already in place.
Then, now alone with the available shields having rushed towards Norwick, she trudges slowly back to the forgotten Jiyyd western gates that had so recently been the scene of such very hot action, picking her way over dead elite giant warriors and corpses of giant shieldmaidens, to stand stiffly once more at the sadly broken gates.
Looking off south, she thinks of her old home, long pillaged and burned, and, gritting her teeth, prepares to make a stand.*
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Ghosting around the war-torn Jiyyd, an elven woman, dressed in the leafy raiment and plain colours of a forest dweller or ranger may recently be observed. Always carrying an elven bow in hand, she appears to have been observing the comings and goings, but always eschewing combat with the surges of foes who splash and ebb against the walls. When mischief threatens, she melts away into the trees swiftly, and is soon gone.
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Dentin entered Jiyyd one night. This wouldn't be an unusual thing, if not that he was not carrying any of his usual equipment. Even more notable, was the absence of his mechanical leg. Though he answers questions about the loss of his equipment to the orcs with a pragmatic "I will make due", he does feel the loss of his armor and the ancient warhammer he had been using for some years now.
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Rumors emerge of a bloody fight in the pit below the Whore. Apparently a tall, blonde barbarian woman and a heavily armored half-orc went down there, only to find themselves faced with many moving shadows. They survived thanks to the appearance of some others. Later some more shadows were encountered right outside the Whore, a fight breaking lose and another woman ending up very weakened by some strange spell. Last she was seen being escorted by the half-orc and a warrior of the Guardians to the temple.
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juster coughs and adds fadia to the list of those who fell
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A tired looking red head is seen leaving the Sisterhood to stroll as far out as the gates then back again; her voice barely above a whisper now when she speaks to those that greet her. However, for any that venture close enough to the Sisterhood, a somber feeling floats in the air as everything about the place seems to be withering, from plants to people. The constant singing of the Heyokarr death songs is heard lingering about the area as one pale red head practices the songs, her seeming to grow weaker and more worn looking every day.
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Not very long after the previous happening at all, a grumpy dwarf goes to temple muttering about effin eejits wha think it's a guid idea tae whack against magic shieldy hitting back things. Nae a coo'ard at aw. Effin eejits the loat o' 'em, tha's whit.
