Age of Ice and Blood: A Pathfinder System Heroic Fantasy Quest

Thirty Sixth Day of Elnu-Hamba (Elnu Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)

It does not take you long to choose, one thing to refuse one who would by guile take a crown, another entirely to deny one of princely blood seeking to do their duty by their folks.

"Yes..." Even as the word passes from your mind to that of your diminutive friend you wonder if you had made the right choice, Lina was the same woman who had asked you to lie... and her mother was the one who had held Ohun captive not seven days past. But there is little time to quarrel over that now.

Lina Osane returns to her home on an arc of white foam and white is her garb, silver upon her brow all the brighter against her dark tresses. She comes as one born again, as a savior unlooked for, bearing on one hand the spear of war and in the other the ring-shaped drum that is beaten only in festival.

"And now let's see if they are minded to fall on their faces or if they need to be pushed," Esha's words are more cynical than you would have spoken aloud, but you cannot call them untrue, not so far as you do not know what she intends.

"Hear me kin of my kin and blood of my blood, I ask what ails you that you may be healed, I ask what evil holds dominion over you that it may be vanquished!"

"Three parts illusion one part levitation and hope to any god who might listen than mommy does not have to conjure a storm..." Esha's voice is low, but clear enough to be heard by some of the men nearest to you, some of which actually laugh, though not the ill favored Luc with whom you mean to have a talk soon... sooner than he might wish to certainly.

Thankfully Lina manages to calm the crowd, awe of power, of the sea doing what you could not... or perhaps it is simply that she is one of them, blood and bone of the island where you and yours have never been more than dangerous strangers. And so you find whence the fire was born and what could be done. "The Iraena, they have taken over the king's hall, said they have to... to protect us from the face-thieves and their ilk coming from the water," the same fellow who had slung the stone says as the boards are laid finally allowing the ship's company or at least such of it as you dare to take with you to disembark.

"How many of them are there? Who set the fire?"

Alas the confusion had not been in the least feigned, no one knows how the fire had been set only that news that the old king was dead had come before the ships were in sight and then the Iranea had taken the king's hall, some say by force and some by guile. Then the fire had gone up, smoke and ash, but few were willing to travel up the hill to the king's hall when they might be taken for foes and they did not even know who the Iranea wished to make king.

People had been confused and expecting the king to save them yet they had found none. Now they had Lina... and by the pledge you had made they had you.

Who do you take with you to confront the Iraenea?

[] Write in (Companions and troops)

OOC: I was more distracted than busy today so hopefully tomorrow I will be able to write more.

Thirty Sixth Day of Elnu-Hamba (Elnu Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)

The streets are shrouded in smoke and the air is think with the sounds of pain and strife, you would not trust a common horse in this fight, but Silver is far from common. So you make your way out, yourself with Inge and Swift Pebble ahorse then the men coming two by two, eight in all and to your surprise Esha at the back. "Someone with the sight aught to keep watch here as well," she says with naught but a nod to mark her passage. A long way from the closed-mouthed waif you had met on that lonely ship, you think as you return the gesture.

For his part Zaia is not as bold, choosing to stay close to Tom near the heart of the group, the better to heal any who might be wounded, though just as you are about to leave Antonio surprises you grasping our arm in parting... and with that the now familiar sense of another mind touching upon your mind, feather light yet filled somehow with the sense of who Antonio is.

"Sort of like a feather dipped in wine?" Comes the question. "It's a gift from 'her', I can keep this up a lot longer than the sorceress and call from farther out than the otters." Clear enough who 'her' is in this instance, you can feel the sense that something far larger and less is... listening.

But the Marcella can do little good in this fight and so you set out down the straight path to the hall where you had been once before as a guest, now the guard of a princess coming home. We seem to be making a habit of that... the glib thought dies almost as soon as it occurs to you as you realize the shouts in the distance are not about the fire, nor yet about the confrontation at the docks.

There is fighting in the streets, and not the bare knuckle brawling that leaves broken bones and sore heads behind it. Gangs of men are moving though and with loud voice and with drums calling out that a new king had come, that a new age had come and those among the fleet who did not wish to face the 'rightful king' in wrath should come disarmed before his throne.

"Hold! Hold there! What king do you mean?" you call out in a loud voice, drawing the eye of the man with the drums, not so bold when faced with armed men, much less with the crowd that had gathered around you.

"Why King Almun of the Iranea first of his clan to take the throne!"

The name sends a chill down your spine, the memory of something alien behind dark eyes, the singer who would drag the boarfolk to their breath. Was this the thing Moru had called Izru again? A shapechanger in the service of the Faceless, a sign that Ohun had failed in his purge of the clan and infiltrators remained behind flesh masks?

"Bold of an old man without a single drop of king's blood in his veins to call himself a king, bolder still to do it with the aid of those beneath the waves and claim to serve the land!" So saying Lina throws back her hood and reveals herself once more.

"Tyrant I name any man who would be king without a call to the captains and their banners. Are we southern dogs to heel before some master for the sharpness of his sword. I am Lina Seaborn, sister of the king who was and I ask that this man come before me for I will not go to him with my hand out as a beggar for a handful of sorghum." She turns to look down the street towards the king's hall, though she cannot see in a straight line there for the road turns sharply left around the Fish Market she can see the smoke all too well and so can those with her.

"Master of thralls and king of a burning land," Lina snorts

A high cold voice speaking words you cannot understand rings out from the throng of warriors and a ghostly thing... a hand flies out to strike Lina full in the chest. Before you can so much as shout a warning a foul stench rises all about. Men gag and hold their hands to their mouths.

The enemy charges.

What do you do?

[] Write in battle plan

OOC: Welp this took a while, mostly because I had to do some stats for these guys so they would not be entirely boring. Esha could not identify the second spell hence why it is not linked.