In a Place that Isn't There
Thirty Sixth Day of Elnu-Hamba (Elnu Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)
A noble vow, a nobler heart than most of the lords you have served, but nobility alone cannot sway you, not when the wide sea waits and in it perils you can scarce fight with a blade. "On, on to the hall of the king!" you call and you feel yourself a charlatan for knowing you will walk no step farther than that. Perhaps if fate is kind and Ohun still among the living there will come a time when they can recover Ansefu from the depths, but you will not be here that day, another vow calls you... a tower of stone far to the west and north.
Thus it is with sure steps and uncertain will that you make your way beyond the burning corridor, deeper into the city, where other darker things lurk. You do not feet the darkling fey, the snatchers and the bloody handed, you do not even fear those among your company who until a few breaths ago were traitors to Lina's cause, for you have been such a man before, no what you fear the most is a task left undone and to the vagaries of fate unwound.
Perhaps it is pride speaking, you think as blade in hand you run our eyes across the broken stones in search of foes and skulkers. You have faced by the scores spirits that were once the stuff of ancient parable and each time you have come out the victor, parting ways with allies if not yet on their feet than at least with them rising from their knees.
It hurts to see the city aflame and its people milling about in fear and rage, knowing not who to turn to... this is the place you have first found safe harbor, perhaps that girl trying to hastily pack up a market stall to the sound of clanking pots and jangling beads was one of those who first watched the coming of the strangers from 'far Normandy' all those months ago, perhaps that smith dazed ad bearing a bloody hammer had been one of those who helped to shoe the horses of the company despite never having known their like...
When you come at last to the king's hall and find... it is no more, as though the hand of some giant had plucked it up and devoured it, from foundations to its roof.
"I'Sakar," you hear Esha murmur in a tongue you know not and you feel a cold wind at the back of your neck as though someone had stepped on your grave the old men would say and the priest would scoff, but there are no priests here, none save Inge who translates, her voice grave beyond her years: "Unmaking, it's like the place fell into the Otherlands, look at the ground, no mark of men's hands and those rocks weren't there before, but they look like they've been there a long time..."
"So I hear that I'm not getting my spear back," Tom's words come into the dead silence almost shocking you into a most ill timed laugh.
"We will rebuild, we will make a better city, a fairer city... and we will being back the rightful king," Lina vows again, but before the hollow at the heart of the city, it rings more of ambition than truth. There is no one to fight, not here, no scion of the Iranea, no fey thief... just the chaos of a broken city
What do you do next?
[] Investigate the strange fey who stole Tom's spear, you do have contacts among the local fey
[] Try to hire on tradesmen for Wayfarer's Rest, if ever there was a time for even a solid craftsman to pull up stakes and move across the wise seas this is it
-[] Write in what you are looking for
[] Seek out bargains at the market
[] Lina wants your help in finding Ohun, perhaps you can do her one last favor
[] Write in
OOC: Each one of these will take three days to attempt, you can take as many as you like.