Arc 13 Post 1: A Night in Crimson Clad
A Night in Crimson Clad
Ninth Day of Elnu-Hamba (Elnu Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)
Night falls uneasy over the halls of Noromo with scent of thistle and fennel, the sound of sea faint in your ears. Ohun had at last the chance to show his power and, you think, vent his wrath, upon the Anjo Oru. Cunning are they as they are foul and you hear many tales of how they seems to have found a home in the hearts of the meek and the great alike, but the mark of Ikomi is on them and in the eye of the priest of the Dark Mother they are found.
Among the deepening shadows you can almost see the hooded figures garbed in brown and green all with their beards and hair flowing free as was meet for priests and magicians among the Anwa. They are not, as Inge had explained to you today, true priests of Ikomi for such are chosen as much as trained but they had been inducted for the season in search of those who would escape the grasp of the goddess. Knowing a little is s dangerous thing, Esha had later explained. These sorts of lay priests one might call them are not common especially among those who would serve Ikomi for her touch is the sea which is wild and death which can consume the flesh and set the soul on its last journey.
Strange how much you had learned about the secret things and ways of the world without meaning to... the thought follows you down into the darkness of dreams that blur and one with another.
***
You wake with a sudden start as though someone had poured a bucket of ice old water on you groping around in the dark for the curtains by the bed. Still dark out but there's light... It takes your sleep addled brain a moment to realize what the color of that might means, red on the horizon...
Noromo is burning.
Out towards the docks you can see what looks to be a dozen houses or more in flames. Men and women both are in the streets, running from the blaze for the most part, but some of them are running towards it with buckets and jugs and whatever they have to hand. You see there men of the hosts of Lirman and some whom you recognize from among the locals who had come to offer their fealty to Aina. By the fire's light tis hard to tell one from the other.
Aina... suddenly you realize that no one had come to wake you though you had left Tom on the might watch and he certainly would have woken you himself at the first rumor of fire, much less being able to see it from the window..
Cursing into the dark you glance at the strange armor of Unke, too long, too long by far to put it on. Instead you reach for Durendal, its flames helping you to spot the shield in the dark and then not even bothering with a shirt, for it would be cant guard against blades, you rush your of the room and towards the central hall where about of the men of the Fellowship had bedded down. Then at the door, you stop. If this is some manner of enchantment, some ploy of sorcery born than you will need magicians of your own to unravel it more than you need steel.
And what if they are just busy fighting the fire and forgot you here in the dark? A memory of your first time at war of a cart filled with spoiled grain coming into camp and the baron who commanded the levy of Verley among others calling it the enemy's work and putting the peasant who had bought is to harsh questioning, only to find that it had been folly on the part of the lord who sent it and not malice that was to blame. Tis easy in war to see foes 'round every corner, but here and now you see the fire... and rather than a distraction it may be the true peril.
What do you do?
[] Go out to help organize a response to the fire
[] Seek out Inge and Esha
[] Find the men of the Fellowship, you need swords at your back
[] Try to find Aina at once
OOC: A lot of rolling this time around but most of it was in the background.
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