Call to Arms - Tainted Love

[Obsidian Sea]

Outentown is where the news first comes. A man, haggard though by the consequence of emotion more than physical hardship - there is no sign of the latter on him - hastens through the village on the back of a steed that tires from the difficulties of the road: specifically, Pilgrim's Road, down which she has shot at risk of all peril, coming from Songhall with a rider that brings fearful news. Charity requires rest by Outentown, and so the man is forced to disembark on a seemingly maddened quest to reach Sarshel. The villagers coax him down and urge him inside as they tend to the needs of the tired, dignified steed.

A Daemon is what he speaks of. The villagers hold their breaths. Perhaps an adventurer sits in the tavern that day and wonders at the commotion: if they do, it is not longer before his words are repeated, and it becomes common knowledge to all in the tavern and shortly thereafter in the marketplace: a Daemon.

Songhall houses a Daemon - not the halls where the Wizards study, either. The Velvet Chantry, he states, has fallen. A Paladin of the faith stands before its doors, and now sees to the security of the fortress town, working in co-ordination with the Warswords to vacate the proximity of those once envied doors, so lucky as to open in upon the most illustrious public space north of Hlammach. The gates are sealed, for the road is caked in the snow, and an evacuation of any large number would draw attention from mountain dangers with which the guardsmen cannot contend; from which they cannot promise the safety of the helpless citizenry. So the gates are sealed; the main street is vacated.

The man rides on to Sarshel, though it is the close of night when he arrives, and news cannot spread among the adventurers there until the morrow. Yet perhaps, with all haste, borrowing from the stable's stock, they might be able to reach Songhall to aid in the efforts there? There is an urgent need, and yet only the most accomplished could risk to brave what terrible encounter must await. The house of Lady Rilaunyr may too be alerted, as it seems that was the man's foremost intention, but that is not information to which the common man is privy. What is clear is that Evil of the most unnatural kind has taken a foothold, and what blind hopefulness might have thought historical is not at all gone from your midst - the greatest enemies of Impiltur; the Daemons.

In Songhall, Law fights to maintain its grip where Chaos has been born. The very news of a Daemon's presence within the fortress' wall incites panic, as it rightly must. The mind of the common Impilturan is made hasty and uncertain; nervous for their fates as the limited Warsword retinue in the fortress attempts to draw the population away from The Velvet Chantry's proximity, taking refuge in the libraries if needs be. Two men who escape the house of Sune before it is sealed are interrogated urgently by their neighbours, or entirely avoided, and neither seems in a fit state to provide intelligence of what occurred within. In their eyes, there is horror, and when they look upon that building, they look upon it with apprehension, and a haunting knowledge of what lies within.

For within that building, there is Evil, and from its resting place stems a boundless Chaos that threatens to seize and toss the hearts and minds of all who know its nearness.

//OOC: Calling for adventures willing to risk it all on Monday 10th October, 8pm GMT, lasting for an undefined amount of time. If this date is feasible, please let me know (as well as providing any IC flavour you wish) below, and provided we have a fair number, we can get something going! If this is too short notice to collect a group, we can consider another date to which to push back the event to keep it an inclusive experience.

[Khaela Mensha Khaine]

// Would love to attend but, by the sounds of it, probably not the place for a dainty level 2 ranger to tread. I also wouldn't be able to spend more than 3 hours if it starts at 8pm GMT. 4 at a push.

Best of luck to those who do attend though. If it does end up being rescheduled to a Friday or Saturday evening, however, I'll be happy to act like I'm useful whilst running away a lot.

[Danuvis]

// Any date and time should work for me!

[Astral Fire]

//Since Cass has already been involved, I'll try to be there, just if we start at 8pm GMT I've got max 3 hours to play

[Copper Dragon]

The Lathanderite priestess, Artemis D'Assanthe would set all aside and try to hurry to Songhall. Both to aid those who meet such a grisly, otherworldly opponent and to help the Sunite church, with whom her own is in fast allegiance.

[ljuslek]

Aleira is present in Outentown when the rider comes down from the mountains bearing ill tidings. Barely has he finished recounting his tale before the ranger rushes off to summon the hunters of Outentown whom she's accompanied into the woods on more than one occassion; she knows well that some among their number possess keen eyes and fleet feet. Skills in high demand when dangers such as this one looms.

Those capable and willing are guided towards various secluded spots overlooking the crossroads where The Pilgrim's Road begins, they're instructed to keep watch, to see that no horror spills down from the mountain road. Sternly they are told to run with all their might if something out of the ordinary is sighted, run to warn the folk of Outentown to seek Sarshel's walls. Aleira takes it upon herself to range between the posts tirelessly; to offer encouragement and relief to those who tire of their watch.

[Silver Snow]

//Timezones preclude me from joining, much as I'd like to. Weekends and maybe Fridays are well and away the better times for me, but if there is a good showing for tomorrow then good luck.

[Ostheim]

// Works for me and Rannie.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQ5_QxwFjNI

[Crusader]

// Will be there on Hjalmar!

[Copper Dragon]

To on-lookers from Songhall's soaring streets, it may have seemed that the Lord of War, not the Lady of Love had been paid tribute within; Artemis mused this much. The group that had rallied under Rannie Marrinson's banner - Merney Valroc, Gwendolynn Highblade, Elhokar Ravenmane, Ornak, Cassandra of Ilmater, Lori Peveril, and Rogvim and the Lathanderite - looked like a mixed warparty when entering. A Warwand locked the doors behind them, fast and magical, and Warswords waited to each side; pale as the snow but unflinching.

It was morning when they entered and noon when the doors opened again. Blood, some soot and maybe spilt perfume or oils stained them as they left, and surely the scents that wafted out from the Velvet Chantry were sweetly sickening... But our speed, number, and expertise has made a difference.

Sunite monks and acolytes left the Chantry in their escort, as did the Heartwarder. A brother did not make it; but Artemis prayed with fervour that his spirit was lifted to his goddess' side. His true goddess', not the false heresy this creature tried to spin for the Sunites.

Artemis D'Assanthe would spend time quickly tending to herself; a moment's respite at The Thirsty Fool, disinfecting, cleaning, thanking Lathander and the gods that may have opted to aid them today. Then she hopes to see Lori, share at least a warm hug and a few words. Only afterwards does she delve into the many tasks at hand: she'd ask if Lori and Gwendolynn could work together once more, and perhaps in unison with the Warwand, in examining the Sunites for any lingering mind-poisoning as Adorned Cassandra had suggested; and then, to study and succinctly help Artemis remove the... "art" that the demon has left behind with any residue of magic in the Velvet Chantry. Consecration of the halls afterwards will be for Sunite powers, however.

The Chantry-members' wounds have been tended to, for certain: at least those wounds on the outside. Nevertheless, Artemis gives their collective a visit, imploring with Songhall's residents to offer blankets, bread, and perhaps beds; and speaks to them softly. "You have seen the darkness of a night I cannot imagine. Love has been mocked, beauty has been abused and befouled, inside you and around you. But I am glad we have come out of it: you, us, Lady Love. Morning has followed the night. And in the morning light, beauty may reign again - may I do what little I can to make that true again for you."

Two letters are penned as well, identical in content: one for Lathander's temple in Tantras, and one for the one in Raven's Bluff, the Halls of the Morning Light. In both Artemis requests her clergy to spread the word to the nearest Sunite shrine or temple to lend support to Heartwarder Lorena after a dire and dark attack upon the Chantry. Temples are often couriers, and Lathander's institutions are hopefully best-connected for such, when Artemis does not know where Sunite strongholds might be. She does not fail to mention Rannie Marrison, as well the many companions that assisted, nor the endless allegiance Lathander and Sune know and will know in conflicts of evil and foulty to come.

A third letter is penned for Outentown - to inform them of the threat's end, and that thankfully a large number of the Velvet Chantry's members could be saved.

Spoiler:

And then she went to sit down somewhere outside on a bench. It always calmed her to see the sun go down; the colours did wonders for her.

She couldn't give Merney or Ornak a comforting word before they left - maybe, hopefully, they found someone or something who would.

That fiend had been beautiful. To her, the creature looked and sounded in some respects stunning and feminine, and yet mainly masculine; alluring, overwhelming, all-consuming. Strange, that the form seemed constant and yet she could not make up her mind on it. Nevertheless, she suspected that it must have looked quite different for the men, and knew that her holy ward on her mind kept the demon's full, true shape in focus: sickening with pleasure and self-indulgence. It was not difficult to imagine how it could paralyze or bend others to its will.

Artemis took her pendant of a rising sun over rolling hills and regarded it quietly at length. She could say that she has seen worse: yet could not say if that was a privilege.

OOC: To keep it short and sweet, thank you for the event!