A Stitch In Souragne

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Forlorn?" Sentire Lefebvre says, eyeing Goren critically. He rubs his chin in thought, then addresses Goren again. "Hmmm... Forfarian: "Can you understand this language, friend?"

He winces slightly at Vincent's questions. "Structures in the swamp? I am sorry to say that Maison d'Sablet eats buildings, my friend. Save for a few isolated huts on stilts, nothing built by the hands of man can prevail in the depths of the swamp. There are stories about isolated islands firm enough to build on, but few people dare venture deep enough into those lightless depths to find out. A few half-crazed hermits and Voodan call the swamp home, I believe, but I have never heard that there are any great temples or castles there. As for mystical power... Some of the Loah are supposed to live in the depths. Most notably, the Lord of the Dead and the Serpent That Destroys. Other than them... I have no idea. An experienced Voodan would be more likely to know."

He makes a careless gesture when Vincent mentions the drinks cabinet. "Please feel free to help yourself, my friend. I have never had much of a taste for strong spirits... Save those I shepherd in my official function." The wan smile proclaims this statement to be meant as a joke. "Be careful, though. Too much alcohol dehydrates the body and leaves you weaker against the heat."

Lefebvre nods at Zumba and Vincent's thoughts about the cult of L'Homme Broché being behind the drought. "If you feel this is the best lead to follow up on, then I shall not stand in your way," he says. "But it is a puzzle. No one, not even their leader, has shown evidence of great power. If only our numbers allowed it, I would already have sent Anchorites to Marais d'Tarascon... But all I have been able to do is exchange a few hurried letters with the local Anchorites, the priests of Petit Eglise, the Lower Church of Ezra. And they are as overstretched as we are. Our communication has been difficult and spotty, at best.

I will draw up a letter of introduction for you, to present when you arrive at Ezra's Church in Marais d'Tarascon. The local leaders should extend you all the help they can spare to aid in your investigation. Today, you should stay here with us and enjoy a good meal and a soft bed. In the eary hours of the morning, when the sea-breeze brings temporary relief from the heat, you will have our best carriage to take you to Marais d'Tarascon."

[Guzrath]

Vincent listens to what the Sentire explains.
"I think you miss my point about the structures in the swamp. I understand that it's not easy to build in a swamp, but my point is that the draught lowers the water level of the Swamp, thus anything that once stood there or has sank or been lost shall re-surface at some point in the future." he says before taking another sip.

"I remember a friend of mine" he starts "cutting off a small part of a river in the country and then draining the water out. It was almost impossible! Hundreds of people or peasants or whatever" he waves the notion away "from the local village worked day and night. My poor friend hardly slept during that time and his arm was tired from motivating the workers. It was quite a difficult task. The dam they build still leaked water, but bit by bit that little part of the small river got emptied. At some point there was still about a foot of water left which was impossible to clear. So the workers had to search with their hands under water in the mud. You couldn't see anything because the water was all muddy" he mimics the gesture of blindly looking for something in water "It took them another day before one of them found the ring my friend had lost. It wasn't even an expensive once" he laughs "Just some simple ring he had bought to match a special ball or something, I don't remember exactly. The point is, people will go through great lengths to get something. It might be far fetched, but it was just a thought."

Realizing he just spend quite some time telling a meaningless story, he coughs slightly. "Shall we get ourselves dirty in this Marais Tucason?"

[Ail]

Zumba looks at Vincent with disgust, but doesn't say a word.
The amount of disrespect for human life shown by his story, although attributed to his friend, made him shiver. Vincent might not be the one behind it, but he seemed to approve of the other's actions,

[Ail]

Zumba then turns to the sentire and adopts a more practical approach.

"I'm ready to go to Marais de Tarascon. All things suggest it is there the problem lies and there that we must uproot its cause. Please, give us any information you have about possible allies there, possible dangers also. And if you can give us support of any kind.

I say we should depart as soon as we've prepared everything."

A moment later

"I don't know much about Marais de Tarascon. Never heard it was more than a small village, but nearer to the swamp. What can we expect there?"

[Guzrath]

"I agree with our dark ally here" waving a hand in a Zumba's direction. "I know even less about what or where this place is, who is proprietor and what is considered civilized among these ..... people?"

Vincent takes a gulp from the wine and eyes Goren. "What do you say, red-haired stranger?, do you feel like exploring these savage lands?"

He awaits the reply of the Sentire and Goren.

[steveflam]

Goren replies. "Yes, I will join you in your search of this Marais de Tarascon. As for that language, I know it not I am afraid.
As for Forlorn I have never heard of it either I am afraid.

If I can help these people that is all that matters to me. They really could use our help."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Very well," Sentire Lefebvre says. "In the morning, I will have our best coach and team readied for your journey. When you are in Marais d'Tarascon, present yourselves to the Church of Ezra's Petit Église, the Low Church."

Gaston snorts with disdain, and Sentire Lefebvre looks briefly pained. "The priests there worship Ezra," he says, a little louder than is absolutely necessary. "They wish to save this land, as do we all. They will be sure to give you all the help they can, as well as to guide you if you wish to talk to Von Ausstadt, the Lamordian scientist, or anyone else there."

Lefebvre looks concerned for a moment. "Everyone knows the cult of the Stitched Man comes from Marais d'Tarascon. When you go there, be careful. They may be less peacefully inclined in their home town."

The rest of the day passes peacefully. You are given guest quarters usually reserved for important visitors, rather than being forced to bed down in Anchorites' cells. When evening approaches, you are invited to a sumptuous meal, which could have been served in the finest restaurant of Dementlieu; the recipes used are all from the Core, as is the red wine poured in the Church's wonderfully cool refectory.

Night falls, and one by one, you make your way to your rooms. The temperature is a little higher here than in the rest of the building, but that is not all bad; at least it means that no novices have been in here since you ere first shown the rooms. Regardless whether you turn in early or turn in late, eventually all must drift off to sleep or decide to stalk the halls of the nocturnal Church. (OOC: The following dream scenarios are contingent on your choosing to go to sleep. If you want to go sneak around, we'll have to work out something else. )

Sleep finds you readily enough if you close your eyes. And sleep brings... dreams.

Goren: In your dreams, you find yourself back in the Mists. They are hot and steamy now, however, dank and redolent with the stench of the swamp. The fog parts, and you find yourself on a tiny island in the muck and murk, vast trees casting a terrible shadow upon you while nameless things stir in the mire. Separated from you by about thirty feet of filthy sludge is another tiny island, upon which stands a man in black robes. His face is hidden behind a mask that looks like the face of a dog - or a fox? Small wings are glued to his shoulders.

Zumba: In your dreams, you hear the drumming that accompanies the ceremonies for the loah. Out of the blackness of dreamless sleep, you find yourself catapulted into a room full of action, lit by torches. Faceless dancers caper to the sound of drums that comes out of the very air - there are no drummers you can see. At the far end of the room, several Voodan are holding a ceremony to honour a great statue, whose features you can not yet see.

Vincent: It seems to you that you fall asleep, only to awaken in the same place. You are lying in your bed, and at first you can not tell what is different. But then you hear it: singing, many voices singing. Singing the psalms that accompany the worship of Ezra on every fifth day. These are the opening songs, that call the faithful to worship in Ezra's holy places.

[steveflam]

Goren blinks a few times before making absolutely sure he is, well, dreaming? He thinks he wouldn't be seeing this if he was awake. Approaching the figure, he is hesitant. Perhaps this thing could help him? He is unsure but is willing to give it a shot. "Excuse me, this is twice I see you now. Might you be able to help me elucidate the mystery of how I came to this "Souragne" and why water is so scarce here?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Goren: The apparition does not speak. Instead, it raises an arm and points behind you. At this distance, you can see that the apparition's arm is thin as a stick, shaking with age. A small trickle of blood has run down the arm and over the knuckles, but the figure makes no sound.

If you look behind you, you see an oddity. The island you are standing on is little, but somehow it connects to a long road that leads into evening. At the edge of your vision, you can see a house, built on poles in the local style. There appears to be a party going on in the lit rooms behind the large windows.

[steveflam]

"I am supposing you wish me to investigate this odd abode. Very well, I shall do as you wish. Perhaps I will discover some information there." Goren walks to the house built on poles the figure has pointed to. He walks right up to it. "Hello? Is someone there?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Before Goren's eyes, a scene of horror unfolds. There was a party going on inside, he can tell: there are men and women in expensive clothes, servants and trays of small bites of food and fluted glass of drink. But finery and delicacies have been forgotten in the face of stark horror: grey-skinned humanoids, their mouths and eyes stitched shut, shamble to and fro in the crowded room and kill with impunity. They look like zombies...

[steveflam]

Goren gasps in horror at the scene. Grasping his symbol tightly, with conviction, he brandishes it proudly. "Return to the place you whence came, foul undead demons! Begone! Begone from this place! In the name of Lathander the morning lord begone!"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

For a moment, the scene of carnage halts. Incredibly, Goren can hear his sentiments answered by the powerful voice of a man in robes of white and green, who wields a silver symbol with the image of a sword over a kite shield, with a sprig of belladonna over the blade. "In the name of Ezra, Our Guardian in the Mists, begone!"

For that precious moment, Goren feels the power of Lathander flowing through him -- and then a group of zombies 'spots' him. Perhaps they just heard him. Voiceless, they shuffle toward the priest, smashing through the glass window and advancing on him.

The dream attains the stature of nightmare. Suddenly, the zombies are coming from all directions. They do not moan as other zombies do, but advance in silence, their ranks swelling with every moment as they stretch out their hands towards the priest...

[steveflam]

Goren blinks, then braces himself. Gripping his mace with confidence, he faces the zombies! Mace in his hands, he brandishes it with surety, scared but sure of himself at the same time.

[Guzrath]

Vincent lies still as he slowly hears the singing. At first he tries to ignore it, irritated that someone would interrupt his well deserved sleep (especially after the rich meal). He closes his when suddenly realization strikes him and he opens his wide. It's late in the evening and Vincent doesn't ever recall these specific psalms being sung at this hour. Something is wrong or he has the time confused.
First he lies in his bed trying to localize where it's coming from, but he doesn't succeed.
He get up out of bed, light a candle and puts on his boots and rapier. In his boots and the silver necklaces tucked under his nightclothes he makes way to the door and opens it to peek into the hallway. He silently steps into the hallway and tries to find where the singing is coming from.