Session 1-04 (B): Look no Feather

General Summary

Year 116 on the 12th day of Kalt

Also happening at this same time... After leading Staddard’s the group begins to debate on which lead to follow, Pearford vs Deep Bank. Deep Bank was getting more love than Carillius felt was needed. Something seemed to almost call him to the need to investigate the town. The group decides to sleep on the decision and go back to the pub as the next step; Such indecision. Carillius excused himself to go and follow a lead. This is a time for action, and something needs to be done. Carillius decides to set off that evening to head to Pearford. Worried that no word had come back in over a month on this town, he lets that overshadow a bad idea of setting off for an eleven-hour journey so late in the day, in the middle of winter. The sunsets shortly after Carillius left the village of Pine Grove, but in the still night air, the valley is at peace. A few clouds give him a clear view of the two moons and stars above, that along with a brisk pace keeps his hopes up and the temperature at bay as it starts to drop after the sun left the sky. His luck did not hold through the night. About 4 hours into the night around Midevening (Finstar), the clouds rolled in, bringing darkness in on him with a cloak of frigid air from the northern mountains. He marched on, trying to keep his bearings and not lose his way. As mid-evening fell into the night (Naht) the snow began to fall. Flurys of snow came down, and swirl around him making navigation even more difficult. At this point however calculating where he was and how far he needed to go, his best course of action was to keep moving forward. Besides something was amiss in that town, and he needed to figure this out. Even as the snow piled up, in snowdrifts he moved through the Night into the Witching Hours (Nocturn). Asking guidance from Samara, exhaustion long ago setting in, he continued to walk through the night as the heavy snowfall further slowed his advancement. Samara got him through the night, as the light of predawn (Taga) caused him to renew his pace and chase the long shadows stretching before him. Finally stumbling forward he crested a hill to see the fires of a small hamlet before him as morning stretched into mid-morning (Zunten), he had walked for the last 14 to 15 hours to make it to his destination.

Year 116 on Siturtag the 13th day of Kalt

Morning, looking over the Hamlet of Pearford. It was now the 13th day of Kalt, first impressions, the town seemed whole, not raised to the ground by any means. However not active either from this position, but the snow was still coming down, only a fool would be out in this… Investigation of hamlet and area Carillius wasted no time finding the only building with activity in the area, a tavern named “Undermill Pub”. It seemed normal enough, as he came into a welcome fire. It was still too early for lunch yet a small group of locals seemed to be lingering not wanting to leave the tavern to the cold outside. Carillius met the pub's owner a woman named Roni who had a mischievous smile and welcomed him into the pub with an offer of food and drink. A bit of a sultry seductress she was dressed for appealing to her mostly male clients and had a deeper voice that did not hide any innocence behind it. Carillius asked her about the town's lack of communication with the rest of the world, however, Roni’s world was based on the pub and her customers, not the greater world from what he could tell. Hunger overriding his desire to investigate, slightly; Carillius sat ear bent on overhearing local gossip. He barely noticed an Orc bring him food, and he ate like a zombie the food offered and continued to now more actively pry on the local conversation. What is happening? Is everything okay? Any troubles? Something is here he knows it. Food gone, Carillius starts walking into conversations now, nothing seems to be amiss. A quiet hamlet snowbound in the back corner of the valley seems, on a whole to care little about the rest of the valley. Something has got to be here, Carillius can’t shake the feeling, a bed should be calling him. Nay, it can wait, for the clues must be out there. Carillius gets up and heads back outside. Snow still falling, he keeps asking around, the town does not feel that contact has been limited. There was just a week ago, a group of four hunters that came into the town for a couple of days. They were rude, impolite and everyone in the hamlet seemed generally happy to see them go. They were described as large burly men wearing furs of animals and never removing their helmets. The hamlet really did not seem to like them, feelings of them being little more than animals were commonly talked about. They were unbathed and had a smell of sulfur about them. They are however what passes for a road warden in these parts and have the backing of Staddard so they tolerate there visit every few weeks begrudgingly. Movement in the fields It's now well past Untarn, as Carillius is working his way around the edge of the hamlet, he notices movement in the in a farmer’s fields near the river. Something green, low to the ground moves away from the town along the edge of the river, he might have missed it had a blackbird flew away from the movement in the first place. Carillius starts to follow the movement and tracks in the snow, as they move upstream into the hills away from town. Over the next half hour, he tracks and locates two Goblins that are creeping through the snow with bows in hand. He finally catches up with them when they start shooting at something out of his site over the next hill. While Carillius is smooth with words, he does not share that skill with movement. A misstep later he hides behind some trees. The goblins alerted by his presence split up to try and flank him on both sides, unsure of what is out there. As the goblins more forward, Carillius tries and fails to use magic to avert their advancement, and finally tries words to ask what they are doing in Argosian. To some surprise, the first goblin who speaks poor Argosian talks back with him. Its rudimental communication, but it seems they are hunting and don’t care about the town. They go where they need to go to find food. Carillius does try to ask more questions but is quickly ignored by the goblins, as the game they were hunting steals their attention. Walking back to town he finds a man named Griffin in the center of town. Griffin indicates among many hats he wears, that he maintains the peace in this hamlet. Again, Carillius asks him for information on many topics:

“Why have you been silent?” I don’t know that we’ve been silent, not that we have gone out of our way to make noise either. Its winter and it's cold, most folks are content to stay inside where it's warm right now. Answers Griffin.
“Well nobody has heard from you.” I reckon I can not speak about what others may or may not have heard. But it’s not our intention to not communicate with our neighbors. We as well have not heard from many this last month, with the snow I figure it’s got many holed up. We did talk with the hunters who came calling last week. Replied Griffin.
“Who are these Hunters?” Old Staddard’s boys, a ruff and tumble group, that comes ‘round every few weeks. Not the first choice if I was the one picking such things. But we show them hospitality befitting our good name, just the same. I keep an eye on them, and if they push good grace too far, I will inform them that their welcome has become thin. Retorts Griffin.
“There are goblins sneaking around the village.” Goblins are short and move like a skittish rabbit, I would guess they may well be more afraid of you than anything. Not that I would worry about the goblins in the area, there is a small tribe upriver less than a score of them. We never seem to have any issues with them. Responds Griffin.

In this laid back, quiet corner of the village, an equally polite and laid back Griffin finishes his conversation with Carillius. Wishing him well he heads back on his way as a raven can be heard making a gurgling croak from somewhere nearby. Back at the Undermill Pub It's now late in the day, and many of the residents from earlier are still in place now near the end of the day. Music is being played and Carillius orders food, as he again tries being blunter in his asking of anything, anything at all that is amiss in the valley. There is an older couple sitting with a mug of something steaming that tells him of the strange Ravens that have been in town. “The ravens are creepy, a bad omen”, says the old women. “Ill tides are at hand,” she says. “It’s an unkindness of ravens we have, they are bad luck, and these just perch and watch me as I move through the village. Draw curtains you should or they stare at you through the windows.” This conversation drowns on a bit when Carillius notices the cook. The orc, is naked save his apron and cooking hat, bring food out to the public. Food including his own. A few other townsfolk agree that the ravens seem creepy and in larger numbers these last few days. Finishing his food, Carillius seems suddenly hit with the building exhaustion from more than 24 hours of physical activity and prying into the inner workings of the town. He slips out of the main pub hall and into a bed.

Year 116 on Entag the 14th day of Kalt

Another Morning, just before dawn. A quick breakfast, as Carillius wants to head back this morning and with a clearer mind then he has had for the last day, realizes walking all night is not in his best interest. As he comes out of the pub, he looks around for the ravens of ill omen that the villagers have been spooked by. Be it boredom, or that he is the only thing to look at, the eyes of a few ravens seem to be on him as he comes out of the inn. The ravens are spread out on building tops, not clumped together, as you might expect them to find warmth in numbers. As he moves around, he does feel like their eyes are following him. A single raven is moving around, he sees it landing near a barn's upper hayloft and it hops into the building. A few minutes later a raven, hard to say if it’s the same one or not, is seen hopping back up to the loft and flies over to another building. Carillius walks up to the barn and looks in, nothing seems out of the ordinary, there is not a secret raven gathering happening. Nothing seems out of place and the sun is rising. Knowing his travels will be long this day, he leaves the quiet and polite town of Pearford to his backside and heads into the snowy landscape. At least the snow has stopped this morning. The noise in the woods For ten hours the cold air, and the sun above his only companions, and one he would rather not have had. Alas an hour ago the sun tired of its arduous trek across the sky, tapped out leaving him with just the cold. The cold an ever-present friend redoubled his hug on Carillius for good measure. Then something new. Crashing, bashing, the noise of metal hitting metal, a scream; maybe? Drift through the northern woods. Carillius leaves in the direction of the noise, moving quickly but with caution as he summits a ridge he looks down on a battle in progress. A group of travelers is huddled near a cart below, dark shapes are being slowly masked in the darkness by a dark expanding puddle erasing the edges of the snow around where they lay. Seven, or Eight bodies seem to be on the ground, they are exposed, two in the open. A few are still moving cloaked it's hard to figure out who they are. Upon the hill opposite of Carillius’ vantage point, he sees four large horses, and on there back burly furry humanoids with bows out, firing into the group below. Carillius yells out, trying to distract or find common ground with a slaughter happening below. His only answer is an arrow which catches his arm. Pain, his arm on fire. Carillius moves quickly to an outcropping of stone, closer to the others under attack, and sheltering him from viewing or being viewed by the horsemen. He peers around the side away from their joint attackers seeming another glimpse of the slaughter unfolding. Then Darkness. Deep Dark Void that he can not see into with his dark vision appears right in front of him, covering the besieged from sight. Carillius takes a moment, to tend to the arrow we was lovingly adorned with. As he finishes up with that a shape backs out of the shadows. Pulling another body with him. There is a skaven, Qhreetch the crossbow-wielding scout. Pulling the older skaven, Skrack who he negotiated with three days ago. Skrack is unconscious and being dragged out of the darkness. Qhreetch sizes up Carillius nods at him and runs back into the darkness. Sounds of battle while Qhreech leaves for a few long moments, but returns with a second skaven. This time a young nearly naked female skaven was pulled out, Tinqy. It would be revealed by tracks later, that during this time the horsemen rode in and killed a number of the skaven refugees. That they lassoed a young skaven boy, the very one who pissed on Carillius during negotiations, that tried to fight them off when they came in. Lassoed, they forced marched, pulled and drug him kicking out with them. Content that the slaughter was completed, left heading south toward the village of Pine Grove. Qhreetch came back and told Carillius he was following after the young skaven. As Carillius was in no shape to follow with the arrow wound, he agreed to do what he could for the wounded here. Then Qhreetch took off into the night following the horsemen. Carillius tended to Skrack, Tinqy and himself. When the darkness dropped he was able to survey the battle, a few skaven were found on death's door, only one additional was Carillius able to save. One of the skaven mothers, Zniela. As the temperature dropped, Carillius set up his tent, and placed the three wounded skaven and himself into the small shelter for the night. The next day he would set off for town to find aid in getting the wounded skaven out of the wilderness.