In the wake of the unprecedented, extreme measures must be used, sacrifices made for the greater good.
For the families that now suffer with the absence of loved ones and in an effort to combat those who would seek to take advantage of the loss that now lingers heavy and weighted among the air within the Gate; they handled the newly deceased Fist Soldiers with care.
For Ser Gaven Arkalis, Triadic Knight and Maevyn Arkalis, wandering bardess of Selune the day wore heavy on both their hearts. Ulgoth's was once where they rested their heads. Where they took reprieve from the bustle of the busy city. Where they took measure of their own luck and blessings; oaths sworn to one another on cliffside with hopes of lingering peace.
Now, destitute as it played host to an immeasurable number of demons, all who would seek to spread their influence further inland, their hunger for more insatiable. They fought, shoulder to shoulder with many of the Coast's Best, and yet the undead continued to charge, to push at their boundaries. Continued to test their resilience and will. They knew that if they fell today, so would the farmlands and beyond. They had to hold the line. There was no choice.
It was no surprise that in a rush to recover and heal the wounded, the bardess fell swiftly. The skies rained meteors as the deafening clang of swords battering their targets drowned out her last gasp for aid, her song silenced. The battle that ensured after would give the surviving Flaming Fist soldiers stories to share for generations. But it was not yet over. The single victory of the day, celebrated. But was it enough to endure what was to come?
As the bodies were recovered from undead that attempted capture and corruption, Maevyn was claimed and risen by sister in faith.
Her body was wracked with pain and frustration as she looked to the surrounding corpses. The red Fist banner of fallen soldiers stood in stark contrast to the grey crumbling flesh of the undead. The smell enough to make her stomach knot and twist. Staggering to nearby stronghold to gather supplies, she was determined, work to be done; she would not allow herself further rest until it was completed.
As the sun sank heavy into skyline shadows began to twist and contort into landscape, she persisted. Bodies were claimed, cleansed, and prepared for movement and identification by nearest kin or surviving family. Undead remains that could not be identified as former Fist soldiers were relocated and burned to prevent further corruption. It was a heavy task, embracing the death and destruction left in the wake of the battle. Someone had to clean up the mess.
She was grateful as rain had put out the fires and began to wash lingering blood from the foliage.
She watched as the river tinted red and rushed further out to sea. How much longer must they persist? How many more foes will they face before this is over?
Lirelle Elensar
Ranger of Rillifane Rallathil
Ophelia Lockwood
Herb and Hex - Herbal remedies and more!
Some citizens of the Gate catch sight of an unfamiliar face, attention drawn by the fact that such a face is that of a water genasi, who makes way to the Water Queen's House. There's little way to know who she is or what she wants, but it seems she intends on an extended stay at the temple.
Simply a visitor? An Umberlant sympathizer? Someone in search of something? Or does it go further than that?
*A pleased smile after hearing such a rumor about the Water Queen's House. The Docks being home to the large organization known only as The Guild had issues out instructions.
It would be the very next night some members of The Guild would show presence around the Water Queen's Home. Was it a threatening gesture or was it to ensure the temples protection? No average person nor outsider would know. Either in plain sight, or hidden from the keenest eyes they were there. Whom ever the new unfamiliar face belonged too, someone or some many has plans to arrive asking...*
"Some roots run far deeper and much longer than most can comprehend."
It had been a couple days now, members of The Guild would certainly report back what any that frequent the harbor have seen. The water genasi visitor was there to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. Her goal spoken loudly when asked for any that care to listen, always a smile on her face as the words are uttered:
"I am to aid the Water Queen's House, to ensure safety of the harbor that feeds us especially given the recent threats, that is the will of the Wavemother, to safekeep one of her biggest temples in the Coast and all of the citizens that so diligently pay their respects to it. Any that wish to help, be most welcome."
As tensions rise surrounding the Commons, even the Militia's more experienced members don't seem to be immune to the strain. The young redhead that had previously (if, perhaps, accidentally and/or temporarily) established herself as Rhaeg's second-in-command during the last set of crises a few months back seems somehow more agitated, more hostile when approached.
Curiously, this hostility is not evenly distributed: Though markedly less playful than before, her attitude towards the City Watch and Flaming Fist still seems vaguely friendly, if somewhat less willing to put up with overt shows of hostility: still conscious of the good they do for the city, despite their occasional conflicts. She still tries to welcome the poor and needy seeking her out, though her movements have grown increasingly erratic over the past months, and perhaps doubly so since the attempts on Rhaeg's life. But towards the Thieves' Guild, and those who might try to protect its reputation while tarnishing the Commons', she grows ever more vitriolic.
This only seems to intensify as Militia recruits start vanishing in the Lower City. Though she had previously been hesitant to point fingers in any one direction, those asking her about the disappearances - or the assassination attempts - inevitably start getting variations upon a single answer:
"Wouldn't surprise me if the Guild did it."
Whether they are guilty or (miraculously) innocent in this affair, her stance is clear: The Guild has a lot to pay for, and this latest crime must not go unpunished...
European player, UTC+1 (+2 during DST). Ex-fixer of random bits. Active in Discord. Active characters:
*Figures hidden in plain sight like beggars, street warfs, shop owners, dock workers and many others, an any of those on the pay roll of the local thieves Guild, or lurking within the darkness were barely amused from rumors whispered or not within the Lower City of Baldurs. The long standing biggest criminal organization within Baldur's and her surrounding lands had their experiences of conflicts far bigger than anything possibly present. When subtle rumors of even one of the largest weapons trading company in the entire Sword Coast seeks Guild permission to do business, the level of clout is not mistaken. Anyone foolish enough to come around the Lower City to ask question in regards of the Guild would more than likely, even upon average maybe, get a silence look as if their were an idiot asking stupid questions. If they did get a verbal response it would more than likely be in the lines of..*
"D'mons are a thing, Oh even heard dem undea'ds causing problems who knows! Might even be those Cyric Cultist that went around murder'n folks while ago. O'l Jack mention even talks about some succubus has returned." *Shrugs*
"You want my name? Fine I shall give you my name if it appease's you before your death"
The night of the 10th of Nightal was filled with the tiny pitterpatters and chittering of rodents through the lower districts of Baldur's Gate, piling in through docks and gates alike - though the latter soon being closed by alarmed City Guards. The swarms of rancid pests were witnessed to be speeding down whatever sewer grate or entrance they could find, leaving puzzled guards, commoners and cats alike to wonder whether what they had seen was some manner of sorcery or the portents of some ill-welcome infestation of the city's underbelly to come.
Amid the hustle and bustle of the sprawling Baldurian streets, a lone priest in vestments of fiery red and orange stands upon a corner, his voice booming into the air above the throngs of laborers, merchants, commoners, and nobles that wander through the city. He bears a torch in one hand, and Holy Scripture in the other, the twining flame of Kossuth displayed proudly on a chain of gold around his neck.
"Hear me, lay persons of this great and noble city! As the bitter chill of winter descends, as night overcomes day, let us remember and embrace the Warmth and the Light that are bestowed upon us through the Holy Flame of the Firelord! Let us rejoice that He has provided us salvation in the blazing flicker of Fire! Let us be not fearful of the long, cold dark, but be merry and bright as we gather in love with kith and kin before our hearths! For it is with love in our hearts that we truly keep the freezing clutches of winter at bay! Yea, brothers and sisters, it is with joy that we stave off sorrow, and with hope that we fight away despair! Joy for the fire that provides heat and light so that life may flourish; for the beauty of our world; and for those who enrich our lives! Hope that soon the Sun shall return and push back once again the long night, to break the icy chains that hold the world lifeless and still! For the Sun SHALL return, and soon, and with it bring once more the Warmth and Light of He that is called the Lord of Flames!"
Fervent eyes like rings of luminous liquid gold peer out with conviction and resolve among those who pass by. Should any choose to stay and heed the priest's words, he looks to them directly, one by one, as he speaks the Holy Word of Sacred Fire into their hearts.
"Let us now recall the Holy Tenets that compel us into service for our Lord:
Those fit to succeed will do so: Strive, brothers and sisters, for success in all that thou do! Set thy mind firmly to thy task, and see thy endeavor through to its end!
Kossuth's faith is innately superior to all other faiths, especially that of Istishia: Lathander would hang dim and cool in a sky black as pitch if not for the Flames of Kossuth that give the Morninglord his radiance and heat! Istishia's pools and puddles boil and steam, evaporating into nothing - and soon even the seas shall boil, rendering both he, and the Bitch Queen alike, futile! Auril is utterly powerless in the face of the Everlasting Flame that will melt away her wafers of snow ere they fall to the ground and pierce the shadows of the darkness she would spread!
Fire and Purity are the same: It is through Fire that the impure is made Pure! The spit that cooks the meat kills the disease it would cause if consumed raw, as is done to water through its boiling! It is through Purity that the Undying Flame is received from the Lord of Flames! Drive the desire to sin from thine hearts! Subject not thy body nor mind nor soul to poisons, pollutants, and disease!
Smoke is produced by air in its jealousy: Foolish Akadi would try to choke and smother life rather than submit to the Holy Authority of the Fire-Tyrant! She would struggle in vain to cloud out the Light that His Holy Flames would shed upon the world!
The reward for successful ambition is power: The power to resist the evils of this world is thine should thou simply strive to attain it! Do not settle for mediocrity and meagerness! Hold thyself to the highest standard, and achieve it for the betterment of self and community!
Reaching a higher state is inevitably accomplished by difficulty and personal pain of some sort: It is only through Suffering and personal struggle that improvement to thyself can be achieved! So struggle, brothers and sisters! Endure, and contend! Pain is temporary, but the Glory of the Firelord blazes Eternal!
Kossuth sends his pure fire to cleanse us all and temper our souls so that we can achieve a pure state: As we strive and endure, we prepare our souls to accept His Most Glorious Fire! We enrich ourselves to become better, stronger, harder! As such, we condition ourselves against the evils of the cold and the dark, those which would snuff out all Life and Light!
Expect to be tested, and rise to the challenge, no matter what difficulty and pain it brings: Thou must prove thyself worthy of receiving Kossuth's Imperishable Flame! Weakness will only bar thee from His Glory! Shy not away from tests of body, mind, and spirit! Climb the hill, master thy will, and resist the temptations of evil!
Those above you have proven their worth and deserve your service: Honor those who have achieved a higher role in society - in thy work place, in thy temples, in thy governments! Take pride and joy in serving those who have proven themselves worthy of leadership and authority! Strive thyself to be not only their peers, but their superiors in turn, and do so with the well-being of all in your heart!
Guide others to Kossuth's pure light so that he may reforge all life into its essential form: Spread, brothers and sisters, the Glory and Light that is the Holy Word of Kossuth, Lord of Flames! Let not any soul linger in darkness, but lift them up, and ignite within them a Flame of their own that they too shall commit themselves to strive, struggle, endure, and achieve! For Fire spreads quickest of all elements, and when the whole world is aflame, no cold, no water, no air, no sand shall quench or snuff it out!
Brothers and sisters, let us thank the Most High and Holiest Flame for that which we have, and let us persist in our action to attain that which we do not. Be well, brothers and sisters, and may your homes be welcoming and warm; may your hearths burn through this winter to come; and may your hearts be alight through the falling darkness."
And so on the priest shares his sermon, from sun up to sun down, moving from center to center among the districts of the city, the fiery passion and zeal of his heart growing ever stronger until at last he gives this sermon in sight and hearing of the Water Queen's House - not so bold an affront as to preach before its doors, but close enough so that all who pass those doors would be drawn or forced to hear the words of the Kossuthan priest.
Last edited by DarkmoonKing on Thu Dec 12, 2024 1:36 am, edited 4 times in total.
Ever-busy the past tenday Eberc finally completes his 'project' known amongst his peers, a metal-man construct known by the fellow Techsmiths as a Gondsman. There is little time to celebrate his creation as the Gondar is found pestering his fellow faithful for smokepowder and other alchemical firebombs, as the craftsman plans to use these explosive charges to undergo with the holy ritual called the Sacred Unmaking and is eager to share the experience with any of those who wish to pay tribute to the Holy Maker of Things or those that just want to watch something explode.
And so on the priest shares his sermon, from sun up to sun down, moving from center to center among the districts of the city, the fiery passion and zeal of his heart growing ever stronger until at last he gives this sermon in sight and hearing of the Water Queen's House - not so bold an affront as to preach before its doors, but close enough so that all who pass those doors would be drawn or forced to hear the words of the Kossuthan priest.
*Outsiders were likely ignorant of which entity holds true influence in the Lower city and it's docks sides. Any attempt the Kossuthan priest made to preach around the Water Queen House wouldn't be without a sense of many cold eyes glaring at the intruding person. Tensions was already high in the lower city from the true landlords that dwelled in the shadows and the vast underbelly or rooftops of the city. The preaching Kossuthan may feel that it was surely either a bad time to share his sermon in the Lower City, or a dangerous one. The feeling would likely be more so when attempting to try and "force" their sermon upon those near the Water Queens House. But of course, it would surely be up to the man to continue such risks. And before any of those from the Water Queen had a chance to show their displeasure, one of the many lower city voices along the docks would surely speak and say ...*
"Best you take your sermon elsewhere, while you still got the option too."
"You want my name? Fine I shall give you my name if it appease's you before your death"
Threats and intimidation were nothing new for the young priest, nor was the prospect of upsetting people with his Truth. In his mind, it was they who needed the sermon most of all. The priest simply smiles and offers a welcome to the man who would interrupt this holy mission, and would then continue where he left off.
"The Word of the Firelord is for all to hear.
Stay a while, and listen."
*A recruit from the City Watch namely Norin Brows, makes sure copies of the Flaming Fist's Wanted flyer of the person of interest, are past around amongst the ranks of the City Watchmen to help the search extend throughout the City of Baldurs and her surrounding lands.*
OOC Information:
The Performers Guild would like to extend an invitation for interested parties to join us at our public Open Stage
Night and perform or observe as desired. To that end, we encourage participants to come prepared, and find
gracious the limitation of one act per person. Our theme, as surmised, encourages participants to draw upon
an apricity theme for interpreted inspiration; experienced first hand, taught from homeland, or learned from a venture and the drinks shared after, to offer example. We look forward to seeing you there!
The event will be held on Friday the 20th of December, starting at 21:30 GMT / 4.30PM EST.
Apricity means “the warmth of the sun in winter" - brilliant sunshine that warms you despite being surrounded by ice and snow. Apricity isn’t only about the weather, however. It can define an unexpected change in attitude when your heart senses a feeling of hopefulness. Not entirely committed, but willing to accept that while all may not be well, there is wellness at this moment.
Orphic can have a mystic or oracular meaning, having an import that is not apparent to the senses or obvious to the intelligence.
While the city awaits Rhaeg's statement on the recent incidents, not all of his inner circle are willing to wait for his opinion before expressing their own. Virin could occasionally be seen or heard approaching members of the Commons, urging them not to support Robb and Petra's petition. She offers a multitude of arguments, though perhaps only those who actively pressed her for such might get the whole list all at once:
Fassaway is just the fall guy, and things like this only help his backers get what they want. Case in point, they're already being blamed for the attacks on the Watch.
Fassaway's already being dealt with anyway. Cory made a mistake, and he's going to have to own it... though she may yet disagree with whatever punishment is chosen for it.
Between the Guild in here, and the demons out there, the people have enough enemies without having to pick senseless fights with the Watch. Just because they don't always agree doesn't mean they should be fighting their fellow citizens over every little detail.
Some might remember the young redhead as the one who took a crossbow bolt capturing a group of terrorists proclaiming their devotion to the Commons a few months ago, and previously led the Militia in a joint assault on the hideout of the Ironclad Blades. Though not unwilling to call the Watch out on their excesses, it's clear that she sees the Watch as being by far the least bad of the forces nominally arrayed against them.
European player, UTC+1 (+2 during DST). Ex-fixer of random bits. Active in Discord. Active characters:
*From dark alley's to taverns, there was unknown men and woman that went around sharing some of the recent rumors. Some were directly passed to their intended targets, or given as casual talks amongst dock workers, others came from a what appear to be a drunkards lips, or whispered in a serious tone with a sincere delivery. Who were they that helped share the rumors were unknown. But the rumors spread was very clear..*
"Ye heard what happened? Dem Common's Militia attacking City Watchmen's now."
"You heard the latest word? Some of the City Watch were attacked by those Common Militia's. The level of stupid is reaching divinity. First The Guild, now the City Guards? Not to mention the old rumor they supposedly tried to make an attempt of Duke Belts own life."
"Hey clubb'a, yer heard the news? Tho's Com's Militia tried to kill someone in the slammer. Using poison like an Assassin too from wot ol' Dirk said."
"It's that pig faced orc blood I tell ye, that book of his called the "Common Cause" is poison, making the people do the most dumbest of things."
"Common Cause? Oh dat book? Nah..me thinks its da red head dat's always s'ports him. Da thief!, yer know, the one always like pinching peoples pockets, even heard she was trying to break in old Lord Denton's Daughters estate. Don't think that went well given I heard his daughter didn't even have an Estate to even rob!" *Laughs* Now she claiming to be some hero, saying she the one took down the Ironclad Blades. She must have forgot the many other adventurers and the Fist as well as the City Watch! Like a knife in the back I say, turning on the Guards. Common Cause fer ya eh?"
*Such rumors may have been false, or they may have very well been true, or a mix of both. But one thing was for certain, such rumors was finding their ways in all parts of the Lower City...*
"You want my name? Fine I shall give you my name if it appease's you before your death"
In the light of recent events, the Iron Throne activity has increased. They express sincere condolences to the City Watch and Flaming Fists, followed up by suspiciously affordable deals for extra weaponry supplies, in order to keep the city streets and its guardians safe.
The most active and recognizeable of these agents is an elf in crimson coat, known as Elor the Viper. Beyond the City Watch, the agent is attempting to reach other organizations, such as the Commons Militia, in order to properly arm them, to make them prepared for the calamities shaking the city.
When asked about his business, the Viper easily confessess how much profit the company is making during the time of chaos. Some speculate that the sudden abundance of weaponry at the Iron Throne's possession couldn't come out of nowhere, and they might have a new, and big, supplier ...
Ryke Lighthouse, man with a pixie lantern and Valkur's favorite fella
