Adam wrote:"What sickness?" Bennedict asks. "The town looked completely deserted. What happened? Is you father sick with the same thing?"
''It's the laughing madness, Da says. But that's not what he's got...I think. He's not laughing. Not yet..."
The boy shivers.
"Four days ago, the new moon, something really bad happened at around midnight. I heard from neighbors that monsters attacked the temples, all at once. They said goblins were in the city at night ,dragging folks off toward the woods. I don't know...But I did hear laughing and howling. The next morning, most of the priests and their helpers were gone, and some of the ones left were acting kind of... crazy. They laughed at us when we asked them what was wrong. And then it started to spread. Fevers and laughing. Folks got scared and most of them lit out pretty quickly after that."
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
While several of his companions investigate the farm house, Sir Clive walks about the farm and the nearest section of the town outskirts, looking for clues the others might have missed…
He finds some wagon ruts, hoofmarks, and footprints in the fields and along dirt trails. But these tracks are partly washed out, perhaps by one of the recent storms the party experienced while at sea drawing near this coast, and he can’t tell much more by looking than that a good number of travelers left the city not many days ago and headed out into the countryside.
He spots a thin smear of smoke drifting from someplace within the town, the source concealed by the bulk of houses and the lay of the land.
Clive was never really any good reconnaissance or at tracking, but he understood enough to guess that good number of town's folk must be travelers leaving the area. Noticing the smoke in the distance, he takes a look back towards the farm house briefly before turning his head back towards smoke and the town.
He begins walking towards the smoke, making sure to leave a clear and obvious trail that any one could follow.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
Adam wrote:"What sickness?" Bennedict asks. "The town looked completely deserted. What happened? Is you father sick with the same thing?"
''It's the laughing madness, Da says. But that's not what he's got...I think. He's not laughing. Not yet..."
The boy shivers.
"Four days ago, the new moon, something really bad happened at around midnight. I heard from neighbors that monsters attacked the temples, all at once. They said goblins were in the city at night ,dragging folks off toward the woods. I don't know...But I did hear laughing and howling. The next morning, most of the priests and their helpers were gone, and some of the ones left were acting kind of... crazy. They laughed at us when we asked them what was wrong. And then it started to spread. Fevers and laughing. Folks got scared and most of them lit out pretty quickly after that."
"Perhaps we should see to the boy's father," Klokulf suggests. "A simple fever would certainly disperse by the will of the Lawgiver---after noon, of course. I do fear how tenacious this cackling malady could be if the city's priests did not have it under control."
Bennedict stands, dusting his trousers off embarrassedly. "Laughing madness," he says. "Doesn't sound familiar. Have you heard of it Dor-" He stops himself quickly, but not before another flush of redness fills his face. "Have any of you heard of a similar sickness?"
He nods at the idea of seeing to the father. "Plus, maybe he can give us some more information once he is well."
"Of course," Benn mutters, "It would be a damned shame if we ever knew what the hell was actually going on."
Raen was clicking his teeth.
"This seems serious. A disease that makes people go crazy..." he was rattling his brain for any knowledge on similar maladies back home.
"You truly see what a person is made of, when you begin to slice into them" - Semirhage
"I am not mad, no matter what you're implying." - Litalia My DMGuild work!
"Indeed, it makes the situation more dire, especially considering that the best possibility is a natural brain malady." Klokulf shudders at the thought of worse things. "I remember elder priests speaking of diseases that bore their own sinister intent, plagues that were truly the masks of mad, unholy spirits. May that only be an idle worry."
Following the boy, Randal, out of the farmhouse and through the fields, the party skirts a woodlot and comes to a footbridge over a small, sluggish stream. A man rests near the bridge on the mossy, soft bank. He sits up as the party draws near, pulling a blanket over his head like a hooded cloak.
His lean, dark-bearded face looks pale in the shadow of the folded cloth.
“Rand?”
The man blinks. “Friends?”
The boy says yes.
“Come closer if you will, then, and well met. “The man coughs. “But I warn you, I’m fever-struck. And there was some strange sickness that came over our town… You might want to stand back from me.”
INTO HARROWDALE…
SIR CLIVE
Sir Clive soon leave the soft, damp earth of the farm belt and reaches the higher, firmer ground of Harrowdale-town.
A quick look back shows his prints have left a pretty good trail in the soft earth.
On the road into town he comes across an overturned wheelbarrow.
He soon locates the smoke’s source from a smoldering plank that lies on a grassy patch of ground on the northeast corner of a large masonry building.
Something black and stick bubbles on the smoking wood.
Looking about a little more, he notices that a rear door to the stone building is missing a panel of the same size. And that door looks scorched.
The pinkish-gray stone building has the look of a civic hall or a shrine, with bas reliefs and prettily carved pillars and the like, though the façade bears more decoration than this plainer area in back.
A frieze of the damaged rear door has been splintered and gouged.
Houses nearby look intact at first glance, apart from some boarded doors and windows here and there.
Last edited by ewancummins on Tue Oct 09, 2018 5:24 am, edited 2 times in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
ewancummins wrote:THE SICK MAN
“Come closer if you will, then, and well met. “The man coughs. “But I warn you, I’m fever-struck. And there was some strange sickness that came over our town… You might want to stand back from me.”
Klokulf crouches down near Randal's father, looking him over. "If your sickness is normal, I can likely purge it in the afternoon. In the meantime, what can you tell us about what happened in town?"
Raen doesn't get too close to the sick man, and tries to keep himself near an opened window or a door to get fresh air. He gives the sick man a reassuring smile as the others ask him.
"You truly see what a person is made of, when you begin to slice into them" - Semirhage
"I am not mad, no matter what you're implying." - Litalia My DMGuild work!
Bennedict stands back and allows Klokulf to take the lead. He awkwardly pats the young boy on the shoulder. "He is a very fine cleric and healer. Your father should be fine."
He watches in all directions, a slight tinge in his expression betraying his worry.
"Of course," Benn mutters, "It would be a damned shame if we ever knew what the hell was actually going on."
''It was a few days ago...Something strange and horrible happened late in the night when all our clergy were gathered to prepare for the final day of our Harvest season festivals....it was an attack on our temples and shrines, blaspheming, crazy voices in the darkness. Town watch grabbed lanterns and weapons and went to help. So did many of the neighbors. I was night fishing and didn't learn about it until a little too late.
Most of the men didn't come back. Fighting in the street under the moonless, cloudy sky. People peeking out doorways saw small figures leaping among the militia. Screams...At morning's light, the town had grown quiet. My dog was dead, head crushed. We all heard that crazy laughter. It was Periele, acolyte of Tymora, wandering the docks. She shouted 'the darkness will devour us all!' And she jumped in the water. Nearly drowned! That girl fought us with more strength than I'd have thought her skinny body could hold. Of course we went and looked into the temples. Plenty of signs of fighting. Blood, broken glass, burst doors. A nasty stink, like rotten meat and something else I could not place...No dead bodies. None in the street. We found some survivors, but they'd gone crazy, laughing and saying things we couldn't understand.
Then it started to spread. I'm not sure what happened later, because I took my boy and got out in the second wave to flee town.''
Last edited by ewancummins on Tue Oct 09, 2018 1:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
No bodies, he thinks. Taken, probably . . . or they walked off.
"This acolyte of . . . Tymora," Klokulf replies slowly, "Periele, you said? What became of her after she was pulled from the water? Was she placed somewhere for her own safety?"
Wolfglide wrote:No bodies, he thinks. Taken, probably . . . or they walked off.
"This acolyte of . . . Tymora," Klokulf replies slowly, "Periele, you said? What became of her after she was pulled from the water? Was she placed somewhere for her own safety?"
''She was taken to the Council Hall and locked up. As you say, for her own safety.''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
