Night Eternal

Sir Owain's Meditations - 3

From Cellar to Church

A less gentle knock on the door

Amidst the discussion of our plan of action, I took a brief moment to meditate over our course when we were disturbed by a great crash from upstairs in the shop room. Fearing the gnome had returned with a band of torch and pitchfork-wielding townsfolk in tow, we rushed to the foyer with our weapons brandished. There ahead lumbered a positively massive tower of bones and metal. Its jaw clattered open and out it rumbled, “Hi, I’m Kut.” Initial shock stifled, we quickly surmised that the ghoul Edward had pointed him our direction after the two somehow met up near the cottage. Pulling information from the orcish skeleton, however, was difficult, and likely would not have been made significantly more difficult had the creature not been animated in the first place. So we accepted his strength to our group and moved on.

Unfortunately, we were now faced with the problem of a set of large shattered double doors through which our new friend Kut had made his entrance. We resolved to let those of us with magical energies to restore take whatever time they needed in the basement to do so while Kut set about guarding the foyer, and I took up work repairing the doors so as to avoid questioning come morning. After several hours, our work was done just as the sun began to peek over the distant horizon. As Blessing came up, human form restored, we discussed our plans for the day, and eventually decided upon journeying across the street to investigate goings-on in the town.

Into the Daylight

Blessing, Azzok, and myself, being the easiest to pass off as relatively ‘normal’ citizens, made our way into the small tavern across the street, “The Oaken Lodge”. It was there we met the scullery maid Sarah, the Tavern Owner, Lars, who seemed to know his way around the town and had some respect amongst the folk, there, despite his relatively trusting nature, the Trader Orlund, who seemed somewhat suspicious of us, though didn’t let too much on, and several of the locals who seemed of little importance. We displayed ourselves as a Merchant, his servant, and I, the travelling guard; and through this ruse gathered some valuable information. The notable Mother Dowsell was the town’s primary cleric and a follower of the Slave god Wea. She was taken care of by Anna, an acolyte of Aurwane. The Dowsell estate, apparently one of the nicer houses in the town, presumably once the property of the Dowsell family, had recently been purchased by Stephen Epneyn, a relatively successful merchant who had come into town not too long ago, and he and his family had promptly moved in. Finally, the inn was apparently also boarding a strange woman, beautiful yet somewhat unhinged if rumors be true. Before long, it seemed the townsfolk were curious about us, so we spun a tale of being ambushed by orcish vagabonds in the woods, leaving us horseless and destitute. This caused quite a few raised eyebrows. After a good period of talk, we began to suspect the others in the inn might think us strange, so we purchased a room for the night to ease their suspicions. From there, we returned to Liddle’s shop.

Apparently, we’re terrible torturers

We met back up with the others and discussed our plans. We all quickly agreed that if we were to gain a foothold in this town, the clerics would have to go. Their holiness was a direct threat to our power, and their absence would allow our own dark cleric to replace them as the town’s holy healer. From there we came upon a wonderful plan to attack the church in the night and plant evidence implicating orcs so as to supplant our earlier claims to their growing threat in the region. In the meantime though we had all day to wait, so we decided to try our hand at questioning our final surviving orcish captive about the details regarding his employers. After several hours of unsuccessful questioning and horribly botched castration, we gave up resolving to try again after he’s had a few days to stew in captivity without food.

That night, Blessing, Azzok, and I made way to the Inn so as to have an alibi, and Kut and Tar-Akorian snuck to the Church to remove the problem of the priestesses. Some minutes later Blessing excused himself to the room while Azzok and I spent the evening talking with the locals. Before long there was sounds of panic as apparently a fire had broken out at the church. = I’ll finish this later-=-



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