#Nuria quill

[dstickman-blog]

Interlude 1 - pt.2

Abather Crowley “What'sa Teleportation? Why is there a room for it in a mine?…” I would hold my chin, absolutely confused as to what the sign means. “Do ya know where ta find the room, ser?”

DM Jameson looks at you blankly, then back at Nuria. “Who is this? Is he trustworthy?”

Abather Crowley I extend my hand, smiling in a nervous fashion. “Abather Crowley, Ser.”

Nuria Quil “He’s my body guard, it’s all good. If he makes any trouble I’ll beat him up! But I think we have a bigger problem. If it actually is a teleportation room, that means the mages had a reason to come here. Which means that room is not the end of this. There’s likely something big and bad here.”

DM Jameson shudders. “I’m glad we have a cleric here to investigate it. I am loathe to think of us stumbling on this a few weeks ago, before your arrival.”

Nuria Quil “Well, luckily you don’t have to. Let’s go figure this out.”

DM He motions you on through the tunnel entrance. “Follow the main tunnel, and then take a right down the shaft still lit by lamps.” He hands you each copper lanterns, each about half full of oil. “May need these I think. The other human miners use them too.”

Nuria Qui “Thank you.”

Abather Crowley I hang the lantern on a hook fastened to my belt, making sure both hands are free. A full hand will only get in the way of using a bow. “Ready when you are, Miss Cleric.”

Nuria Quil I’ll hold the lantern in my sheilds hand and continue.

DM You both walk walk tentatively into the mine. The first 20 or 30 feet of the tunnel are heavily reinforced and dug out from dirt. The ground there is pack by hundreds of footsteps but fairly soft. You can tell instantly when this changes to stone. It’s like stepping into the inside of a seashell, the way the silence sounds like waves off the walls. The tunnel becomes non-uniform, with outcriopings of lumpy rock protruding into mine shaft from all sides and ceiling. You pass by a small collection of dropped or set-aside tools as you approach the side tunnel that Jameson described.

Nuria Quil “Well, I guess it’s now or never.” I begin walking down the tunnel

DM You lead the way. The ground here is a little less even and packed down. Bits of gravel and loose dirt crunch under your feet as you follow the lamplight further into the depths of Colley Hill. Pretty soon you see the collapsed wall–like Jameson said, it would have been impossible to miss. The stone has collapsed inward, with large chunks of rock scattered around a huge, trapezoidal opening. There is a gentle breeze coming from within, and you can vaguely make out silhouettes and shapes in the darkness.

Nuria Quil “Hey Abigail, what do you think we should do here?”

Abather Crowley I take my hand crossbow into one of my hands, and load a bolt into it. “It’s Abather, Miss… Follow me. If there’s anything in there… Well, if I can sneak up on a rabbit, this’ll be a sinch.” I then slowly step into the opening, trying to keep my steps soft and light. I look around as I step into the room, trying to adjust to the small amount of light the lantern on my hip gives me. “Unsettling place…”

Nuria Quil “I’ll just, stand in the back. Tell me when I’m good to move up.”

DM Abather, it takes a long thirty seconds for your eyes to adjust to the dim light. Even then, you’re not entirely sure what you’re seeing. The room before you is cracked by intruding rock formations, but you can tell that once upon a time this room was something like a meeting area or foyer. After a moment you finally put together what it is that’s bothering you about this space: there’s no seams. No individual stones, no mortar, no beams, no framing. It’s as if the room was sculpted out of one huge block of granite, or simply grew into this shape without the need for masonry or joining artisanship of any kind.

There are two bodies in sight, although in their current state they look more like vaguely human-shaped husks. They’ve been emtombed here for a long time and seem to have dried into mummified versions of what they were in life.

Abather Crowley My skin begins to crawl at how unnatural it feels; I’m growing more nervous with every step closer toward the bodies. Feeling no immediate danger, I turn to bid Nuria to come closer behind me. I would mutter to myself as I turn back to the bodies. “Scary things, you are…”

Nuria Quil I slowly walk forward, trying to keep from jingling.

Abather Crowley I bend down to examine the bodies further, to try and estimate what they once where. “It'sa tomb, I think, Miss Cleric. I reckon you know a lot more about this stuff th'n me.”

DM The skin has dried into something like a brittle leather covering bones–you think that the structure looks Elven but you’re not completely sure. The room itself seems more or less otherwise empty. There’s some broken furniture, including a huge longtable made of oak that has long since collapsed under the weights of itself and time. There is a door beyond that appears to be bowed inward, barely attached to the door frame any more. It looks likely that there’s collapsed rock or some other debris pushing in on it from the other side. From here and in the dark the door seems a little strange. Like it’s textured.

Abather Crowley “Y'should stay here, Miss Cleric. I'mma check that door…” I approach the door, hand crossbow raised. After making my way there, I sling my shovel over my shoulder, off the hook on my backpack, and poke the door with the long handle, seeing if what’s behind it will give way if the door budges.

DM With a simple poke, the door thunks woodenly. It does not seem to budge in either way, wedged into place.

Abather Crowley Slinging the shovel back over my shoulder to hang beside my backpack, I place a hand on the door, trying to see what it might be made of. Afterwards, I then look for a way to open it. “Stand back, Miss. May get a little tricky, what might happen.”

Nuria Quil “I am not moving from this spot.”

DM Abather, you find a gap between the door and the frame and wedge the edge of your shovel into it. Based on the feel and the scraping sound, you wager that it’s mostly loose rock that’s pushing the door in.

DM You put your shoulder into the shaft of the shovel, using it as a lever to pry open the door. It doesn’t seem to move. You strain harder and the door squeals, inching open. You hear the rocks shift behind it. Suddenly, it pops open, sending a small avalanche of rock, silt, and plaster into the room you’re in. You feel pretty good about it until you see the head of your shovel–it’s bent to the point of near uselessness.

Abather Crowley Waving my hand to clear dust from my face, I simply sigh, and sling the ruined shovel back over my shoulder. “That’ll have ta be fixed later… Shall we continue, Miss Cleric? Or are d'ya wanna focus on the bodies?”

Nuria Quil “There is nothing I can do for these. Let’s continue.”

DM The next room, illuminated by lantern light, seems partially collapsed. The floor is caved away in places and a small trickle of water Cascades down the far wall and disappears into craggy cracks and the floor. Some, but not much, of the original architecture is still intact, including a handful of large marble floor tiles that have a partial Circle designed into them with runes dotting the outer edge. Some of the walls and areas of the floor have mushrooms and lichen growing. They fill the room with an earthy, musty scent. There is a body in this room as well, crouched in the corner with its arms raised over its head as if to Shield it from some long gone Danger.

Nuria Quil I’m trying to commit the runes and symbols to memory.

Abather Crowley “Y'got any idea what this is, Miss Cleric? I’ll admit, I’m a tad lost… I can’t tell what even caused all this, either…” I look up to the cieling above the body, and then around the room itself; I want to try and get a clear picture of what happened in this room.

Nuria Quil “I don’t have any clue… I’m a woman of faith, not magic.” I walk around the room clearing debris and other objects to see the runes underneath, and commit them to memory. “Well, I don’t know what any of this means. Ready to keep going?”

Abather Crowley “Y-yeah… Let’s keep going. D'you see an opening anywhere? More rooms nearby?”

Nuria Quil “Scared?”

Abather Crowley “I’m no coward, but… I’m from Riverview, Ma'am. Just a simple farmboy. All this… Magic stuff makes my skin crawl…”

Nuria Quil “I don’t quite see what happens from here. I figure this would be either a broom closet, or the entrance. So we should probably work backwards from here.“

DM As you two poke around in this second room, Nuria gets a bit too close to a mushroom. It shrinks back,withering in some sort of self defense mechanism. Then, the mushroom next to it does the same. And the one next to that one. Like a wave rippling across the walls and floor, all the fungus in the room withers back. For a few seconds, nothing else seems to happen.

Nuria Quil "Abby, look at these cute little mushrooms!”

DM With that, they shake, pop open, and explode, sending thick clouds of spores into the enclosed space. Constitution saves at disadvantage

DM Between the sheer volume of spores and the tightness of the space there’s just no avoiding it. You breathe them in. Lungfuls of spores that tingle–not unpleasantly–as they coat your throat and the inside of your chest. Your vision starts to blur, and you lean against the walls for support. You make panicked eye contact for a moment. Before either of you can speak a word, Abather slips to the ground, unconscious. Nuria struggles a few more tottering steps before she, too, slips away into endless black.

Nuria, you are floating in nothing, twisting and turning in a void without light, without gravity. Before you is the corded door to The Slumbering World. The silence presses in on you from all sides.

Nuria Quil I swim over to the door.

DM As before, the door seems to invite you in spreading away from your body as you approach. Beyond it you can see the room you were in moments ago. There’s no one in it and the mushrooms as well as the circle of runes are undisturbed. When you flip through the door gravity seems to gently assert itself, and you drift upright to your feet.

Nuria Quil I walk through the doorway we will enter through in a few moments.

DM Beyond it is the city from your dream before. You find yourself in the burnt out town square, the familiar muted sounds and over vibrant colors of before. This time, two things are different. The town is no longer on fire–it looks like that’s gone out days ago. Smoking charcoal and debris are all that remain in the twilight. Secondly, Abather is there.

Nuria Quil “Abby! Can you hear me?”

Abather Crowley I look around, feeling a little more than lost and confused, maybe even scared. Hearing Nuria call out to me, I turn to her immediately. “Miss Cleric! W-where are we?… Am I dead? Are WE dead!? You’re a Cleric, yeah? What’s going on?”

DM Your voices have a simultaneous bigness and smallness to them, like shouting in a soundproof room.

Nuria Quil “You’re totally dead.”

Abather Crowley I immediately gasp, not quite wanting to believe Nuria, but… She is the authority on this stuff. “W-well what abou’ you? Y-you sound… Awfully fine with this.”

Nuria Quil “Oh, i’m fine. You however, are one hundred percent, for sure, very dead.”

Abather Crowley “Where’m I, then? Did I make it ta the other end?… Do I get to see Elaine again!? Please, Miss Cleric, if she’s here I gotta find her.”

Nuria Quil “Wow, okay. Sorry to break your dreams, but you’re dreaming. I uhhh, didn’t realize you had any loved ones you wanted to see… Sorry.”

Abather Crowley Giving Nuria’s shoulder a quick punch, I draw my scarf up to hide my face, quite upset at all of this. “That was pretty mean spirited, y'know… Wha…. What now? We’re dreaming? Of what?…”

DM Abather, you glance around from the burnt out town square. There’s not much left to recognize, but even taking that into consideration you’re fairly certain that you’ve never been here before. One thing does stick out to you–a roof poking up from behind some collapsed buildings that seems untouched by flame. From here it looks like a simple two-story house, somehow miraculously spared from whatever fires consumed this place.

Abather Crowley I shake my head. “Not a clue where we are, Miss. Seems like some sorta… Wildfire went through here.” I then point to the lone standing building. “There'sa place intact there, Miss. Should we go look?…”

DM Nuria, the building that Abather is pointing to is the house you went in the first time you were here, you’re sure of it. It completely defies chronology that it is fully restored.

Nuria Quil “If you want to, it’s not often people can join the Slumbering World. Explore, you can lead here.”

Abather Crowley I reach for my hand Crossbow- not even entirely sure if it’s there- and pull my scarf from back over my face. “O-okay! We’ll go look, then. Let’s go, Miss.”

DM Abather, you lead the way. The ground buckles under your feet, like walking through wet sand. The world is eerily quite. There are no birds, there’s no breeze. Looking up, you’re not even sure there’s a sun. The town around you is just… lit somehow.

Abather Crowley Feeling my skin crawl from how unnatural this world feels, I take deep breaths to keep myself calm, trying to ignore the inconsistencies and contradictions this place has with the waking world. “So… How long are we supposed to be here? Before we wake up from the dream, that is?…”

Nuria Quil “Until we need to.”

Abather Crowley “Do you know why we’re here, then?…”

Nuria Quil “Probably because we’re asleep. Last time I went into that same building, so it’s probably important.”

Abather Crowley “Not t'be rude or anything, Miss, but… You’re bein’ pretty vague about all this. Do we have something t'do here or not? Do the Gods have a task for us?”

Nuria Quil “The gods never say anything. They just… Do stuff. I’d really love to say more, but I honestly don’t know.”

Abather Crowley I shrug, continuing the trek to this building in the distance. “You’d know better than me… Say, y'look young fer a Cleric, Miss. Not t'sound disrespectful or anything.”

Nuria Quil “I never had many friends. I just read the books all day. After a while the temple decided I spent enough of my time reading and figured it was about time to get rid of me. So I got out early. You don’t need to be so formal with me, your older than me anyways.”

Abather Crowley “Oh no, that won’t do, Miss. My Ma taught me to be polite ta Ladies. M'head hurts just thinkin’ about her Ladle on m'head. Wonder if she’s still using it to keep Pa in check.”

Nuria Quil “Hmmm. I’ll break you one day. Where are we going?”

Abather Crowley “The only building standing, Miss. Y'did say it was important. Besides, not much t'be found in ashes.”

Nuria Quil “Alright.” I walk towards the building.

DM As you get closer you can see that the house is indeed fully intact. It’s as if someone rebuilt it board for board right after the fire died down–or maybe that the flames simply steered clear of this house. The front door is open, just as it was the last time you were here, Nuria. You can see some of the furnishings and the staircase leading to the second floor from outside.

Abather Crowley I enter the building, pointing my Hand Crossbow at any doorways as I look. “D'you know what this place is, Miss?”

Nuria Quil “It was on fire last time I was here, some girl was trapped inside.”

DM When you both cross the threshold into the house, it’s like a cosmic switch is flipped. The inside of the house is now a burning inferno, as it was the last time. The town behind you is peaceful and calm, like nothing bad had ever happened to it. Going up the stairs you see yourselves. A mirage-like, semi-transparent Nuria and Abather climbing the melting staircase. They pause, looking over their shoulders to wave you forward. Then they go to the second floor and out of sight.

Abather Crowley Absolutely confused and panicked about what’s going on, I freeze for a moment. It’s like I’m being barraged with too much at once. But I collect myself, drawing my scarf over my mouth and nose to try and keep out smoke, as I rush to where our ghost-like apparitions were waving us to.

Nuria Quil I rush up the staircase.

DM You see the second floor, same as before–the young woman is awake this time, staring off into the distance. She seems awake but unconscious. The glass orb is in her hands. Then, she falls. She hits the ground and the glass rolls out of her hand, landing exactly where it was the last time you were here, Nuria. Then, she disappears, leaving the orb behind. The house is burnt out. The fires are gone. The beams have collapsed and there are gaping holes in the floors and walls. You can make out the glint of glass in the middle of the room .

Nuria Quil I pick up the bead.

Abather Crowley “W-what’s that there, Miss?… Is it why we’re here? Some sorta sign?..”

Nuria Quil “Who knows. It was here last time, I didn’t get a chance to look at it though.”

DM The bead glows softly, as if it is containing a universe of fire within. Then, it flashes. With a start, you both awaken in the room under the mine.

Nuria Quil I groan, rolling over on my side as I rub sleep from my eyes. “Abs, you awake?”

Abather Crowley I groan awake, brushing hair out of my face as I sit up. “Nnnn….. Nuria? What… Are we back?…”

Nuria Quil “I think so… I don’t… That orb popped me out last time too…”

Abather Crowley I shake my head to quickly wake up, and look around myself; have we remained in the room we slept? Where we moved? How in the WORLD did our Lanterns not catch fire? “D'you feel any different? Feel any more… I dunno, holy? We did do godly stuff, didn’t we?”

Nuria Quil “I don’t know man! Usually I just dream about long walks on the beach and fluffy animals!”

Abather Crowley “More pleasant ‘n what I get, mostly… D'you think… There’s more t'this cave? Like a room we’re missin’? Some purpose we’re not gettin’? The miner did say it was… I dunno whatchya call it… A 'Teleportation’ room?”

DM Before you can say anything else the room spins. You both see spots, and vomit. Abather first.

Abather Crowley It’s not a pretty sight, either. If any man could vomit gracefully, it wouldn’t be me.

Nuria Quil I have been surviving on a diet of gruel and oatmeal. Mine isn’t a pretty sight either.

Abather Crowley After recovering from such a gruelling process, I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, and check to make sure none of it got on my scarf. “Urgh… Y-you okay? Urk-… Nuria?”

Nuria Quil Looking slightly miserable, I whipe my mouth off. “Well. Bad news, I think I’m dying. Good news, my dog isn’t here to eat it this time.”

Abather Crowley Getting up to my feet, I turn and offer a hand to Nuria. “D'we still got business in here? Was all that the 'Teleportation’?”

Nuria Quil “I have no idea.” I take his hands up.

DM You pull each other up, and the room tilts slightly, sending another wave of nausea through you. For a moment you’re not sure if it’s still the residual sickness from the spores, but you start to realize that the world feels different. It’s extrasensory, like suddenly being able to detect magnetism or see infrared. You realize that the runes that you’ve memorized are more than just script. They’re a map that describe this location. A literary representation of some kind of universal coordinates. You both let the room settle for a second and slowly start feeling like yourselves again. You can’t help but focus on the body in the corner. It looks like it’s shifted slightly since you last looked at it.

Nuria Quil “Hey uhhhh, Amy… Does something look different to you?”

DM You do notice that the corpse seems to have shifted slightly–but more importantly, you notice something different about Nuria. Nuria, what is it?

Nuria Quil Nuria’s hair has seemed to lose its brown tone, and taken on a phantasmagoria of reds, blues, yellows, and every color in between.

Abather Crowley “N-Nuria! Your hair!- What in the… What happened to it?” Grasping my head in my hands, I get a worried expression. “Did MY hair do that too!?”

Nuria Quil “Do what? You look normal. Am I bald!?”

Abather Crowley “It’s! It’s-… Rather pretty, actually. Ghah! It’s like you have a field'a flowers on your head!”

Nuria Quil “Did I turn into a pot or something?”

Abather Crowley At that, I take the pot hanging off my backpack and point the bottom at Nuria, to try and make a makeshift mirror; it probably won’t work, but hey, I can try.

DM Nuria you can vaguely make out a warped reflection of yourself in the shiny pot bottom. It’s clear that your hair is vibrantly colored many flowering hues.

Nuria Quil “Why am I pink now!?”

Abather Crowley “Your guess is better'n mine! Y'feel any different? Maybe somethin’ in the room changed you? Whatabout the runes on the floor? Are they different?”

Nuria Quil “I mean, maybe! I… We should just go, it’s probably dangerous in here.”

Abather Crowley “Wait… We should stay a bit. Something is still off. The body moved.”

Nuria Quil “That’s exactly why we should leave. Bodies don’t just move on their own, Ana.”

Abather Crowley “Well, we move. And we’re bodies, yeah? So why can’t he?” After stating my internal logic, I walk over to the body and examine it again, wondering if it’s even the same body at all.

Nuria Quil “I’m standing ten feet back. Good luck.”

DM You both scan the room, looking for differences. Abather, while you check the body, it’s clear someone–or something– has rifled through it, perhaps looking for something. Nuria, you also see signs that someone has been here. Mushrooms along the left side of the walls have shrunken back, like they did when you got too close. There is a single half footprint in the dirt and rubble leading back into the smooth room. It’s angled to enter the room you’re in, but you see no signs that whatever it was went out the same way.

Nuria Quil “Annie, someone was here.”

Abather Crowley “Yeah,. I can tell…..�� Making sure my hand crossbow is loaded, I begin to try and follow where the man may have come from. “Stay close. Dunno if they wanna hurt us.”

DM Heading back into the first room, you can’t help but be struck again by how unnatural the construction is. But you don’t see any signs of entry–or exit–other than your own.

Abather Crowley “D'you think they took something from US? Check yer pockets, this may’ve been a setup to steal from us.” I then check my pockets for all my important belongings, and for the silver ring tied on a cord around my neck.

DM Everything you had, you still have.

Nuria Quil “Hey, amy, I hey an idea, but you have to promise not to get mad.”

Abather Crowley “Well, I figure you know more th'n me. I got no reason ta get mad. Go ahead n’ hit me with the idea.”

Nuria Quil “Alright, you also can’t tell anyone, becuase this is extremely dangerous.”

Abather Crowley I nod, scratching my head. “If you say so, Miss Cleric. I promise to let ya handle this.”

Nuria Quil I sit down and begin to pray under my breath, conducting some sort of ritual.

DM Nuria, while investigating, you find your mind wandering back to the Slumbering World. Before long, you realize you are still connected to it–you can see it, superimposed over the real world like a projection or a mirage. The room now glows with weaves of magic a thousand years old. You can’t tell what they are, but there is a fresher weave as well: a weave that someone used to pull something from another world into this one. You get a sense that this was done within the last four or five hours.

Nuria Quil My face quickly contorts into one of fear and urgency. “ABATHER! WE NEED TO GET BACK TO THE TOWN!”

Abather Crowley Upon hearing how urgent she sounds, I grab her by the arm and help her get to her feet. Once she’s up, I run ahead of her out of the mine, trying to remember the way out. “What’s goin’ on, Miss!? Is the town in trouble!?”

Nuria Quil “WHILE WE WERE ASLEEP, NOTHING LEFT, BUT SOMETHING CAME IN!” I start running to the town as fast as I can.

DM You both tear out into the mine. It is pitch black. The lanterns have burned out of oil.

Nuria Quil I channel the power of Qoth through my shield, causing it to burst into light.

DM Abather, this is a lot for you to take in all at once. Between the dream world, and the ruins, and now the obviousness of Nuria’s magic, you are approaching an anxiety attack. You’ve been raised all your life to believe that magic is evil and unnatural, and that those who use it are soulless and power hungry sacrileges. Since meeting Nuria you’ve been steeped in magic and relics of the past best left untouched. Now, you’re seeing her cast with your own eyes.

Abather Crowley Losing control of myself, I fall to my knees. It becomes difficult to breathe, to move; to even think. This is wrong, I tell myself. She’s a witch. A monster who ruined the world. Before I can even get a grip on my senses, or my thoughts on the situation, my Crossbow is in my hand. She clouded us from Qalda’s light. No, I don’t want to believe it. But here is my proof. She steeped you in her magic. Affected you; changed you. You just don’t know how yet. I begin shaking my head, hands clenching and unclenching. This is wrong.

Nuria Quil “Ab? Ab!? are you okay?” I stop running and go to help him up.

Abather Crowley I push her hand away from me, and not even thinking, hands horribly shaking, I point the hand crossbow at her. “W-why?… Tell me…. Why’d the world break?…” You know why.

“D-did'you do it?…” You know she did.

“Y-you’re using….” The one greatest Taboo.

Nuria Quil “Ab, calm down. I don’t know how this is happening either. I’m just as scared as you, but we need to keep it together. The whole town could be on fire by now. Right now our lady mother has given me the power to save everyone, and there’s some mage in town probably preparing to forsake everything. You can kill me, or anything else you see fit, but not until every last person in this town is safe. Not until then.”

Abather Crowley “I… No… I won’t…“ My hands drop back to my side, unable to bring myself to take someone’s life. Not yet. "If… If there’re people ta save… We do it my way. No tricks.. No… Heresy. I… If ya really wanna save people, don’ do it with the power tha’ forsook 'em so long ago. Do it the good, honest way.”

Nuria Quil “I can’t promise that, but I will promise that if I fail, if we can’t save them… I will subject myself to whatever justice you deem upon me.”

Abather Crowley “I'mm a good, honest man. It ain’t my place ta enact justice. I jus’ do what’s right. Now enough dallying! We can deal wi'this later!”

Nuria Quil “Atleast you still have that much sense left in you.”

DM Abather, in your addled state it’s all you can do to follow Nuria as she leads the charge out of the mine. Emerging, Nuria, you notice that it’s late evening. You’ve been in the mine for most of the day. As you emerge, Jameson comes over to meet you. “Well,” he says. “That was quick.”

Nuria Quil “James! Something may have come out of the mine!”

DM He looks puzzled, and slightly alarmed. “What do you mean?”

Nuria Quil “We aggravated some mushrooms in there, and they knocked us out. When we woke up there were tracks that weren’t there before…”

Abather Crowley “Ain’t a thief, either. Didn’t take a thing off us, and… Well, didn’t find no man’s tracks. Somethin’ else, I bet.”

DM Jameson points to the miner next to him, who shakes her head. “None of us seen anything go in or out since you all did about ten minutes ago.”

Nuria Quil “It may have been earlier. I managed to… Inspect the runes. Something used it today, but that’s all I can tell, I’m not a witch, this is new to me.”

DM The other miner looks uncomfortable at the talk of witchcraft. Jameson shakes his head. “You weren’t in there all that long. Nothing in between. We’ve all been sitting right here.”

Abather Crowley I shake my head in disbelief, trying not to freak out again. Surely more of this…. Witchcraft. Something’s wrong. “There’s… There ain’t no way that’s jus’ ten minutes. Ain’t no way. Where’s Mr. Chivay? Has he been lookin’ for us? Surely he’s been lookin’ fer me for hours, now.”

Nuria Quil “Clearly we just lost track of time well we fell asleep. I need you to do something very important right now. Can I trust you?”

Abather Crowley “I ain’t no liar, Miss. Y'can trust me.” Even if I can’t trust you.

Nuria Quil “Great. Follow James to my house. When you get there I need you to find my ink and quill in my desk. Oh, also, James, you’ve had a hard time, feel free to take a nap, sleep is important for stress. Abather will take care of everything, he’s nice.”

Abather Crowley “Erm.. Wh-what am I suppose'ta write, Miss?…”

Nuria Quil “I’ll write it, I just forgot where I put my stuff, so I’d like you to fish it out for me.”

Abather Crowley “Right… Erm, I’m new ta town, Jaaa… James? Can ya show me the way ta the cleric’s home?”

DM “Uhhh… yeah.” James and the other miner share a look, and then James sets off for town.

Abather Crowley I simply walk with them, not entirely sure what Nuria is up to myself.

Nuria Quil I walk over and start calming down some of the other miners and blessing them. Though, I ask one of them “How long ago did Ab and I go in there?”

DM The miners all look at each other. “Maybe half an hour?” Another pipes up. “Honestly, glad for it. Less time means you probably didn’t find any curses or relics.”

Nuria Quil “Hmm, alright. I guess I’m thrown off from sleeping late.” I follow behind Abather and James.

DM You follow. Abather and James arrive back in town in no time–Chivay’s cart is no longer set up and it seems quiet around here. James leads you through the center of square and to a small two-story house on the edge of town. “This is it,” he says.

Abather Crowley I nod, giving his shoulder a pat as I walk by him. “Much obliged, Sir. Much obliged.” I then head inside and I do as instructed. Looking for some paper, a quill, and ink to match. Having no idea what Nuria might be planning to do with all this, I stuff them into my backpack, and head out of the house. Who knows what’s she’s thinking.

DM As you exit you run into Chivay chatting with Jameson. “Ah!” he says. “There you are. What a day it’s been! Sold almost the whole cart!”

Abather Crowley Despite the recent stress, I put on the best smile I can, adjusting the massive crossbow on my shoulder. “That’s great, Mr. Chivay! Whatcha got left? Y'did say when we’re done, I could get some of what’s left, along with a silver or two. Ahh- Nevermind, we can chat about all that later, I gotta get back ta the Cleric.”

DM “Yes yes, we can talk money later. After all, it’s been a long day.” Jameson nods approvingly. “I must say, Mr. Chivay, I’m impressed. Here less than an hour and already sold all your wares? There must a be a silver tongue in that mouth of yours.” Chivay looks confused. “An hour? You chaining me? I got here in the morning.” He points at the sky. “It’s got to be at least seven bells by now.” Jameson’s face scrunches. He looks up at the sky and winces, putting a hand to his head. “Yes… yes I suppose you’re right.”

Abather Crowley “Speakin'a time, Mr. Chivay… How long d'ya think I was out, doin’ work with the Cleric?.. I’ve been in the cave all day, an’ everyone tells me different then what Qalda’s light tells me.”

DM “All day is right. Ran off this morning and just now seeing you.” Jameson opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He looks confused, then he squeezes the sides of his head. Then, he collapses.

Abather Crowley More of this Witch tomfoolery! “Sir? Sir!?” I shout, kneeling beside the man. After a moment, I try to wake him up, pouring some of my waterskin on his face. “Things’ve been real odd, Mr. Chivay. Somethin’ ain’t right about this town, and… Makes me feel a bit queesy jus’ thinking about it. Something’s… Wrong. People tellin me the wrong time, a 'teleportation’ room in the mine, and….” She may be a witch, but she has done no evil. Not yet. “Well, jus’ odd folk.”

DM It’s been awhile since you’ve seen someone die, and you can’t help but think about those whose losses hit you the hardest. Jameson’s body is slack and his eyes are rolled back in his head. Another person you were not able to save.

[neonbluewaves]

How about 3,4 and 6 for characters of your choosing? ^-^

Thank you!! hope you like them, picked one character for each

The three broomsticks is packed with students. This is the last visit before everyone goes home for the holidays so they make the most of it. Drink butterbeer, buy as much candy as possible, and even some presents for family and friends. 

Although Jacob does his shopping a bit different. He has his eyes set on some rare ingredients for a potion Duncan had to brew them. So he went to a fast, reliable source. Rue Garnet, with whom he was sitting at the moment drinking butterbeer. Her dad was a pretty good potioneer and he only used the best ingredients, from his wife’s apothecary. He had gone on a couple of dates already, faking a great interest in potions, and she had already given him a phial of dragon blood. They didn’t have any use for it, so he had saved it to give to his uncle as a present, being a healer he would appreciate it the way he didn’t.

He reached to her hand and held it gently, a smile on his face. This made the girl blush and take a sip of her glass, before clearing her throat and letting out a deep sigh.

-Isn’t this great?.- she asked, looking around.- the…uh… the season, that is! um… Christmas! It’s so wonderful, full of joy, and lights, and love and, you know, just

-Beautiful.- Jaocb said, looking directly into her eyes, as if impliying he was talking about her, and not Christmas time. She stared back at him, her face growing redder. 

-It’s my favourite season, what about you? What is your favourite season?

Jacob slightly tilted his head. Summer. He loved summer. His mom loved to make sangria, she loved going out, specially the beach. She loved cooking food, packing it up and making everyone treck to wherever she felt the view was worth it and have a family picnic. She smiled so bright the sun had nothing on her. And all their problems, all those rumors and bad reputation following them were gone. His dad had shown them once how a Welkin flew. No broom, no magic carpet. It was true what they said, once you saw a Welkin fly you never forgot. He had promised that once Neon were old enough he’d teach them both how to do it.

He loved going out with friends, but also exploring around their town, as far as they could go with his sister and cousins, dreaming of the day he’d be able to do it seriously, as a job. 

He let out a dramatic long sigh and used his free hand to rest his chin

-What a strange coincidence, mine is Christmas too!

And when she let out a nervous giggle, he knew he’d get what he needed before coming back from the holidays.

Neon sat with Kirley Duke sat in the empty Ghoul studies classroom letting the afternoon pass by. She actually enjoyed his company, he didn’t talk much but when he did it was an actual interesting conversation. He had lent Neon some mystery books and so had she in return. She felt that with every mystery she read about she got better at finding clues and putting pieces together, like the main characters in the novels did.

At the moment she was reading a novel called “The hound of the Baskervilles”, and Neon didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or smack Kirley in the head with it.“I think you’ll like it, you might feel identified” he had joked. She didn’t like jokes about the damn chruch grim, but she found herself being mildy annoyed instead of pissed. Kirley’s little smile and teasing tone were well-meaning, and she found herself actually intrigued to see this Sherlock dude solve the mystery. By her side her guitarist friend with a bunch of papers spread out the table, looking at one he held on his hand while writing down stuff with the other. His guitar laid between his torso and the table, untouched for a long time, Neon had been able to read in peace, but him not playing wasn’t a good sing.

-Hating your piece?.- she asked, leaving the book open so she wouldn’t lose the page she was on. He shrugged, unsure what to say. She leaned closer to read the lyrics, and then the melody, putting them together in her head. It seemed decent enough, but something about that composition lacked their usual zing, and Neon could see why he was doubting.

-You know -he started, soft voice calling her attention.- if you told Myron you play, he’d give you a spot in the band without second thought, you could help me with melodies.

-This is the first time you open your mouth and sound stupid, I told you guys I don’t know music, I’m tone deaf.- she lies so easily everyone’s believed her so far. But not Kirley, apparently.

-You looked at the sheet music as if you’d seen a thousand of these, and your eyes followed along it as if reading. What do you play?

-You keep that up I’m not going to your future concert, and I’m not inviting you guys to see any either.- she slightly changes subject because Kirley will keep cornering her, he had caught her knowing stuff she supposedly didn’t.

-Oh? So you’ve been to concerts before? What was the first concert you went to? - He drops the lyric sheet and the quill he was holding and turns to Neon, holding his guitar so it doesn’t fall

-It was a muggle rock band, Barón Rojo. Same year I played with you guys. Must admit I was glad my cousin and her boyfriend brought me there, if I hadn’t sit on Bastien’s shoulders I wouldn’t have seen shit, I was too short and the people there were too tall.- She knows Bastien got the tickets to buy her love, because he was shy, and a bit awkward, and his french accent made it a bit hard to understand, as he had some trouble understanding their weird mix of northern English and southern Spanish. He thought like this Neon would like him more, she was hard to get along with no matter what, and Neon let him believe that he was getting on her good graces like that. He was Laura’s boyfriend. They came and went. He’d probably be gone in a couple of months, or years, who cared. 

-you could come to our first concert...- Kirley says

-Thanks

-...as our rythm guitarrist- he ends his previous sentence

- I don’t play, dude.

+ + + + + 

Nuria sits by the shade the low walls in the courtyard offer, enjoying her free hours before transfiguration class, reading ‘Hogwarts, a history’. It’s not the kind of reading she usually likes. But Rowan is always talking about it, and she’d like to have a conversation about it with them. It’d probably be a great surprise too, being able to talk about one of their favourite books with one of their friend.

She was currently reading about the cockatrice incident that happened in the Triwizard Tournament of 1972, “didn’t some of our great, great, many more great grandparents participate in this Tournament thing?”, when she heard a flutter of wings nearby. She looked up and not too far, up on the wall, she saw an eagle looking at her. 

She smiles at it before going back to her reading. After a while of not hearing anything she looks up again, the eagle hasn’t moved. She looks around, nobody around.

-You can come sit next to me if you want.- she says loud enough to be heard by the bird.- I’m inviting you to come. -she adds, just in case

It flies down near where she is and in a split second Talbott is standing there.

-I didn’t want to interrupt your reading.- he says, and Nuria hears a bit of bashfulness there, and the thought of him feeling shy because of her makes her a bit giddy.

-You never interrupt, sit, wanna talk?

-I don’t know, what are you reading?

-Hogwarts, a history

-Talking it is.

Nuria laughs at this, and as Talbott sits next to her she looks around, looking for her bookmark, but she can’t seem to find it. She lets out a defeated sigh thinking a breeze might have blown it away.

-Can’t find my bookmark, guess I’ll write the page down on my hand

-Or you could dog ear it

-I could what?

-you know... Do you ever dog ear books?

Talbott looks at her, she honestly looks confused, and he is for a moment until he remembers this girl’s first language isn’t english, and that she honestly doesn’t know what this means.

-Dog ear, you know, fold the corner of the page

-Oh! that’s what it’s called? haha that’s so cute!.- her laugh is soft and hearty, and Talbott can’t help but smile a bit, of course she’d find the term cute.

-No, no. I can’t do that to a book, Neon would hit me with her chancla, and then my grandmother would raise from her grave and drag me six feet under with her.

Talbott, still smiling tilts his head as if asking for an explanation

-You see, back home we’ve got books, many, many books, different editions, special editions... Some of them are handwritten from medieval times, precious books that must be treated with care, they cost a fortune and cannot be replaced. So missteating a book like that would be unthinkable. Skye Parkin ripped pages off a book and Neon didn’t throw her off the quidditch stands because she was busy getting back those pages to put it back together.

Nuria laughs some more, and Talbott smile widens a bit more. He looks in his pocket and takes out a small wrapper.

-Would this work? it’s not sticky or anything

Nuria takes it, and their fingers brush lightly, but it feels like electricity, and warmth spreads through their faces. Nuria uses it as a bookmark and sets the book down into her bag. And they spend the rest of their free time talking.

From then on Nuria uses the wrapper as a bookmark and makes sure not to lose it.

[lostinaseaoffictionalbliss]

Beauty & The Werewolf Chapter 6

Summary: Remus and Nuria go on their date, but Malfoy manages to crash it

Pairing: Remus x pudgy!OC

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1281

The rest of Nuria's morning went by rather quickly. After agreeing to a date with Remus, her and Rowena left for her classroom to prepare for the day. A fee of her students noticed her limp and she had to explain she got caught in Fred and George's prank and fell. When they asked exactly what the prank was she blanked. She had no idea how to answer that.

“Oh from what I could tell they had set up a wire to make the Slytherins trip and fall into a swamp at the bottom of the stairs. They must not have had the swamp ready when professor Jones tripped,” Luna said softly.

Nuria was grateful for Luna coming to the rescue. She hadn't actually known what the twins had been up to. As Rowena trotted over to the young girl and rubbed against her legs purring Luna winked at Nuria. It was then she realized the young girl had come up with the prank on the spot to save her. With a quiet laughed she granted 20 points to Ravenclaw.

The class didn't seem to last long and neither did any of her other classes. Before she knew it, it was time for lunch and then dinner. At the end of the day her and Rowena found a quiet place to relax. She pulled out her book Pride and Prejudice, and took a seat on the window ledge looking out over the quidditch pitch. It was quiet and she could read alone here for a bit.

She was immersed in the book and didn't even hear Remus walking up to her. Rowena let out a loud chirp and climbed up on his shoulder. “At least someone noticed me,” he teased catching Nuria’s head shot up and she blushed.

“Oh I'm so sorry Remus. I was reading and I...I didn't even here you. Please forgive me.”

Remus held up his hand and smiled at her. “Nothing to forgive my dear. Nothing at all. I was merely teasing. It would seem your book is quite interesting.” He took a seat next to her and looked at the book.

Nuria marked her page and handed it over letting him read the synopsis and even the first few pages. He smiled softly and handed the book back. “Well at least now I know what you're interested in and can get you something for Christmas.” He kissed her softly and held her to him as she started to read once more.

The following week came pretty quickly and with it the first trip to hogsmeade and Nuria's very first date. She bounced around her room excitedly as she got ready. As she picked up different shirts to wear she would show them to Rowena who would either chirp as she liked it or make a coughing sound if she didn't. By the time they had went through her whole wardrobe Nuria has three shirts and 2 pairs of pants to choose from.

As this was a first date she didn't want to look too over the top, but she didn't want to look too casual either. After A good thirty minutes of debating with herself she went with the gold and black sweater that hugged her curves and a regular pair of jeans. Nuria curled her hair and left it down. Her makeup was mostly natural with a pink lip to finish the touch. Grabbing up her Hufflepuff scarf she dashed out her door down to Remus’ room.

“Well don't you look absolutely stunning.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it making her blush.

Nuria looked Remus up and down and smiled. “And you look very handsome.”

The walk to Hogsmeade was spent with small talk and soft stolen kisses. Neither of them were used to this; going on a date was new. Nuria had never had a man want to go out with her and Remus normally kept people at arm's length. But there was something about the short Hufflepuff with her curves and her almost human cat that drew him in and he had to take a chance. A chance that seemed to be working out for both of them.

“So how bout we go to The Three Broomsticks first, then we go to Honeydukes, and if you don't mind Scrivenshaft's quill shop. I need some ink and parchment,” she said as they entered the village.

Remus smiled as he looked down at her. She was so cute when she stuttered, but he liked the fact she could now talk with him so easily. Expect of course when he was pleasuring her. Then the stuttering came back full force.

“That's fine by me love.” He kissed the top of her head and led her into The Three Broomsticks. He ordered them a couple sandwiches and some butterbeer.

Nuria took her drink and enjoyed the sweet taste before she started eating her sandwich. “I've had so much fun with you this past week. And I don't mean the sex, which is great, I mean the moments we get to ourselves to sit and talk. Getting to know one another and growing closer. You've been so kind to me and you make me feel so much better about myself. I could never thank you enough for what you've done.”

Remus sighed and took her hand lacing their fingers together. “Nuria, sweet Nuria. I shouldn't have to make you feel good about yourself. You should base your self-worth on what other people say. All I've been trying to do is show you the truth. Show you just how beautiful you are because you are beautiful,” he said. In his eyes she was the most gorgeous woman in the world and it wasn't just her soft strawberry-blonde hair, beautiful green eyes, curvy hips, and thick thighs. No what really made her beautiful was her personality. She was so kind to everyone and always did her best to help her students. She was a beautiful soul. “Everything about you is beautiful,” he said softly.

“Oh look boys it's the cow that jumped over the moon and the man who was too frightened to join her,” Draco teased when he spotted the professors.

Nuria turned to look at him. “We may not be at the school, but I can still give you detention,” she informed him.

Draco scoffed. “For what? Speaking the truth? You are a cow. Just look at you and Lupin there is afraid of the moon. So I said nothing out of the way.”

Tears began to pour from Nuria's eyes as Draco and his cronies laughed. It would seem that no matter how old she got, no matter how many times she heard it, she would never stop being affected by the cruel words. Her bottom lip started to quiver just as what looked like pink sludge started running down Draco’s face.

“Piss off Malfoy. No one wants you around. You're nothing…”

“but a tosser and no one likes you,” Fred said.

Remus smiled as he saw the twins get revenge on Draco. “Don't listen to him love. Malfoy is a prat just like his father. They look down on everyone,” he said comfortingly. Nuria turned to look at him.

“He's not the first to call me that,” she whispered.

“Ah Professor Jones listen to Professor Lupin because…”

“He knows what he's talking about. You are beautiful and Malfoy is a git. Trust us.” George threw his arm over her shoulders and smiled.

Remus nodded. “They're right. Don't let Draco ruin a good day alright.”

Nuroa sniffled and nodded her head. “Okay, but can I ask why you're afraid of the moon?”

[dstickman-blog]

Interlude 1 - pt.4

Nuria Quil: “I’ll give you a run down of the situation. I wasn’t quite sure, but I can tell you don’t trust me. Back in the main temple there were ancient books. Old dusty and decaying tomes. It was my job to re-copy those onto fresh text. They details elaborate rituals and prayers to pull upon the power of the gods. I don’t know why, but after we found the little red bead, all of them work. So, there’s two things we’ll be doing here. Number one, there’s a ritual to expose magical items and creatures. Next there’s one to expose creatures that are not necessarily magic, but shouldn’t exist. So, I’ll walk through the crowd checking each of them, and you shoot the one who turns into a candle. Of course, now that I’ve confessed you could shoot me now and blame it on me.”

Abather Crowley: She’s right, you know. You can be free of all this, and blame it on her right this instant. They might believe you, too. But she said that she’s doing holy rituals? Enacting miracles?… Is she a hand of God? Is she really a witch? “I ain’t gonna shoot you. Wasn’t even considering it. I may be angry with ya, but not enough for that. I just want my name cleared, then we can talk about your… Circumstances, later.”

Nuria Quil: “That’s comforting.”

DM: You both make your way back to town. By the time you arrive, almost every person who lives in Colley Hill is gathered in the town square. They’re all chattering amongst themselves. Some seem confused, others annoyed, a few afraid.

Nuria Quil: “Go find somewhere, I’m going to get started.” I’m going to sit down and start saying prayers and going about my ritual.

Abather Crowley: I begin to look around, hoping to find something suitably tall I can watch above the crowd from.

DM: Nuria–Your magical probing reveals nothing within the radius of town. Abather, you find a scaffold nearby and scale it, scanning the small crowd.

DM: You scan the crowd. Something is nagging at you but you’re not sure what. You scan the crowd again. One of the miners from this morning is missing. One of the crowd calls out to Nuria. “We are here, Cleric!”

Nuria Quil: “One moment. It’s awfully crowded… I’ll be there soon.” I start walking towards them, changing the nature of my prayer, looking for creatures, as opposed to the pervasive weaves of Magic.

DM: Nothing seems out of the ordinary to you as you walk amongst the townsfolk. However, you also notice that one person is missing: Dina Bartleby. She’s a tough and wiry lady who’s known for being shrewd and cynical to the point of humorlessness. In fact you still remember the last time you offered her a blessing from Qoth, to which she rolled her eyes and replied “I’d follow any god that would stop your mouth.”

Abather Crowley: I wave at Nuria to get her attention, and shout down to her. “Someone’s missing, Cleric! But I dunno who! Who should I be lookin’ for!? Details!” I then scan what area I can see surrounding the town, for a horse, wagon, or anyone travelling on foot out of the Village.

DM: You turn to scan from the scaffold, but something distracts you and pulls your focus. What is it?

Abather Crowley: Oddly enough, Nuria herself. I hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, but she really does stick out. Her hair is just so… Outlandish, so out of place… So unnatural. I know I have someone I’m supposed to be looking for, but it bothers me too much. Her very presence unsettles me to no end. Though, she is not a wholly unpleasant a sight, I will adm:it.

Nuria Quil: “Annie, look for the really mean one! Kinda old woman, hates everything!”

DM: A woman in the middle of the crowd, Annie Greenbow, points to herself. “Look for who?”

Nuria Quil: “No, Dina. You’re fine Misses Greenbow.”

DM: Someone else pipes up. “Most of us are here, we want to know why!” There’s some grumbling agreement. Then someone else yells “What was in that mine?” Then another: “is the town cursed?!” The crowd breaks down into people shouting assumptions, questions, and accusations.

Nuria Quil: “Everyone please quiet down!”

DM: The crowd quiets down, but they seem tense to burst out again.

Nuria Quil: “I don’t want to lie to any of you. I have, hopefully, built some kind of trust between myself and all of you. So, I am going to give you a warning. If you do not want to know, you may now leave. If you have children, please cover their ears. If you want to know, wait those who want to be gone leave.”

DM: There is some grumbling and shuffling of feet, but everyone stays put.

Nuria Quil: “Okay. A cursed room was found in the mines. Something came out of it. Something that can make itself look like other people. Before you start attack your fellow townspeople, Quoth has blessed me to find this person, and none here are guilty. Put your minds at ease. However, Dina is not here, so I have not checked her. As it stands she is not guilty, but we must make sure. That is the truth. All of it, and I have held nothing back.”

DM: The crowd is quiet for a while. Then someone says “Dina was at the mine this morning.” Someone else calls out “Let’s go check on her!”

Abather Crowley: “Y'wan’t me ta stay up here and watch for her, Cleric? Incase she tries ta evade ya?”

Nuria Quil: “No, I think we should stick together. Come on down and we’ll head to her house.”

Abather Crowley: I nod, making my way down from my watch post to follow her.

DM: The crowd follows. All seventy or so residents of Colley Hill moving behind you in a somber parade. Dina’s house is simple and dark. She recently replaced her thatched roof and the new one still smells of waterproofing oils and straws. There are no lights on inside, but the front door is wide open. Behind you, the townspeople come to a halt, waiting for your move.

Nuria Quil: “Everyone stay together, we can only protect you if you’re all in one place.”

DM: The crowd starts whispering, but they all inch closer together.

Nuria Quil: “Okay, you ready Jacks?”,

Abather Crowley: I roll my eyes, making sure my hand crossbow is ready and loaded. “Y'aren’t even trying t'get it right on that one. But yes, I’m ready.”

Nuria Quil: “You caught me. Alright, let’s go.”

DM: You get a strange feeling as you walk in through the front door of Dina’s house. It’s dark inside, but it feels lived in.

Nuria Quil: “Ab close the door, we don’t want it running out behind us.”

DM: Nuria, even as you say this you feel a sickly almost oily feeling in your gut. It’s still dark in here, but you know something is wrong. Care to describe your 1st time walking into an area that you know in your heart is magically desecrated?

Nuria Quil: Walking into the room in the mine was a moment of fear and curiosity. The prospect of seeing cursed relics and corpses of evil mages was equally exciting and eerie.

Walking into Dina’s house was the sweet scene of the perfect crime. The dark windows, scattered chairs, and freshly stocked spices occupied the room. A room that is by all means, normal. Then the realization sets in. Dina is not here. Nobody is here. That alone could be enough to frighten someone, and it was. The air was thick with fear, men and women voiced concern over the house, and the only movement is the air from your lungs. If that wasn’t enough to scare you, the magic was. It was as if eyes floated in the air, scanning and searching for life to take. It was as if the house had always, and always would be vacant. It was as if the very sins of the past had risen to seek vengeance on themselves. I don’t feel fear at this house. I feel death at this house.

DM: You do a sweep of the room. There’s some bottles on the table, a couple of knick-knacks on a countertop, a shelf with some parchment rolls… Something seems not right. These things don’t feel casually placed or stored. They stick out, like whoever put them all away was somehow trying to draw attention to them.

Abather Crowley: As I step in, closing the door behind me, I scan the room for any sign of a rushed packing job. “I don’t like this place all that much, Miss Nuria…. ”

DM: The bottles’ contents seem to swirl by themselves, churning and mixing in the glass. The parchment scrolls are covered in runes like the ones in the cursed room of the mine. One of the small objects, a figurine of a smiling man with a heart shaped hole in his chest, seems to glow ever so slightly.

Abather Crowley: “Miss Nuria, I have no doubts. This woman is the Witch. This ain’t natural. What d'we do? Personally, I wanna burn the whole house, but I bet ya got somethin’ else in mind. Either way, this makes me feel sick…” After seeing no immediate danger, I walk to the desk and gingerly pick up the figurine of the man.

DM: You have never seen this person before in depiction or in life. But holding it puts you at ease somehow.

Nuria Quil: “Be careful with those! We don’t know what kind of curses could be on it, my ritual doesn’t extend to items!”

Abather Crowley: I drop the Figurine back onto the desk as if burned, watching warily for any sort of noticeable effect. “Y'coulda warned me before I touched it!”

DM: As soon as you let it go the calming effect subsides, returning you to your anxious state of mind. Jameson appears in the doorway. His eyes widen as he takes in the objects placed about the space.

Abather Crowley: I whip around to face him, feeling a bit twitchy at all this. “Stop! Don’t come in, it may be dangerous! Find Dina! Ain’t no doubt in my mind she’s up t'no good!”

DM: Jameson stops. His voice is flat and hard as a skipping stone. “We have been living with this right under our noses.”

Abather Crowley: “Well. y'don’t have to much longer. Find her, gather every man n’ woman willing, and bring her before Miss Nuria. The Cleric’ll decide her fate, as it ain’t in my right, or anyone elses.” After watching for Jameson’s response, I pick up one of the swirling bottles, to look a bit closer. Morbid curiosity has beaten out caution, for the moment.

DM: This bottle is full of a dark purple substance, floating and billowing like an imprisoned cloud, or a spurt of ink in water. Jameson balks. “Should you be touching that? By Qoth, if even Dina didn’t take them with her, they must be dangerous!”

Abather Crowley: Almost dropping it onto the desk like the idol, I catch myself, as doing so would spill the contents everywhere. “Y'may be right, but we need some sorta evidence ta present t'those who may doubt it. It’s in a bottle, how bad can jus’ the bottle be?…”

DM: Jameson shakes his head, eyebrows up. He looks to Nuria for an answer.

Nuria Quil: “I… I don’t know, I’m no alchemist. I might be able to search my books for something. If we bring it back to my place I can research… but Dina is getting away.”

DM: “She wasn’t at the meeting…” Jameson frowns. “Actually, I remember her being at the mine, but when you two came out she was already gone.”

Nuria Quil: “Do you think she’s snuck back to the mine, or just fled?”

DM: “I don’t know but…” he looks around the room and shudders. “It’s clear what she was.”

Nuria Quil: “What do we tell the town?”

Abather Crowley: “Ya think Dina is tryin’ ta head back into that room we where in? What if her power, or somethin’, comes from there? That’s how Magic works, isn’t it?”

DM: “You would know,” Jameson grumbles.

Nuria Quil: “No he wouldn’t. He’s not the witch here.”

Abather Crowley: I reach down to my hand crossbow, making sure it has a niiice click as the string is pulled, a bolt loaded. “We can argue for my being a witch or not later.”

DM: Jameson backs out of the house with a blank expression chiseled into his face.

Nuria Quil: “Ab! Don’t go around threatening people! They haven’t done anything wrong, they’re just scared!”

Abather Crowley: “Well I ain’t done anything wrong either! And yet, here I am, scared for my own life! I’ll stop defending myself when they stop tryin'a say things about me. I’m scared too.”

DM: You hear the crowd outside start to chatter.

Nuria Quil: “Qoth help you Ab…” I walk outside.

DM: Abather, you watch Nuria head out. She pockets the figurine of the smiling man on the way.

Abather Crowley: I swear, I’m going to tie her up and drag her to the nearest temple the minute this is all over. I put the bottle in one of my backpack’s pockets, and begin to walk out. Once I get next to Jameson, I put a hand on his shoulder, and turn to him. “I ain’t no different than you, James. Just as confused, jus’ as scared. But at least your hide isn’t on the line, right?” I then give him the best scowl I can, patting his back as I leave the building.

Nuria Quil: I bring the Doll out my pocket. “Sadly, this cannot be denied. Dina has been practicing witchcraft right between our eyes the whole time.”

DM: The crowd hushes. Jameson grits his teeth but doesn’t quite shrug you off, Abather. A man near the back of the pack lets out a panicky moan. “She has had us bewitched!” A woman cries out from the middle of the crowd. Some people start to make signs of Qoth, and a couple mumble prayers. Others start peppering each other with nervous questions, or trying to shoulder out some distance between each other.

Nuria Quil: “She’s gone now. We’re safe. She could be halfway around the world with magics, there’s nothing left for her here. However, I’d like to propose something to the town. Either we can burn everything in this house, cleanse by fire and all that. We can also save these curses in here for study, try and find a way to see this before it’s too late again. I don’t want to betray your trust, so this is up to all of you.”

DM: A wave of tension seems to ease up off the crowd. They are all quiet as they try to process this information. A man steps forward. “With all due respect, priestess,” he says, turning to face the mob, “I think we should burn it!” A woman towards the back calls “ Burn the whole house!” A murmur of agreement runs through the townsfolk.

Nuria Quil: “Alright, we burn it. Let’s go get some torches.” But then a thought crosses my mind. “Actually wait. There were some potions or something inside, those might be dangerous to burn. Let’s dump them somewhere. Anyone have a good idea?”

Abather Crowley: I then walk behind Nuria, and draw her close so I may whisper to her. “We can leave stuff like that in the Mine, left untouched in abandoned sections, I reckon.”

DM: A particularly nervous looking man yelps “I’m not touching anything!”

Nuria Quil: “No no, I’ll carry it. If anyone is going to get cursed it’s me, I deserve it for not protecting you. Ab just recommended we leave it in mine, in the cursed room we’re sealing off.”

DM: The nervous man does not back down. “What if Dina wasn’t the only witch?”

“Quiet, Tryst,” someone nearby says. The nervous man’s face shifts into a scowl. “No! We’re all being too calm about this, if you ask me! Taking a lot at its face. Earlier today we assumed we were an ordinary town untouched by cursed magicks. Now we’re supposed to assume that the one we found was the only one? Why was Dina doing witchery here if not to find the mine?”

“Dina’s not in charge of the mine,” says the woman from the back. “You’re right,” says Tryst. “So how lucky for her that Alan just happened to push the mining tunnels in the perfect direction to find her little, her little… desecration!”

Abather Crowley: Standing next to Nuria, I try to raise my voice above the crowd. Not really something I’ve done before, mind. But I have shouted to people across a field. “No one is guilty until y'got evidence that says otherwise! Assumptions an’ suspicion will only tear apart all the fine folk of the village! So stop pointin’ figers and start lookin’ clearly fer the truth o’ the matter! If we keep our eyes on eachother, how are we supposed to see the truth aroun’ us!? Well!?”

DM: The crowd seems to side with you, and eases back. Tryst does not seem convinced but he reads the room and sulkily clams up.

Abather Crowley: “Alright. Now everyone stay calm, and keeep yer eyes open fer any sign of Dina at all. Tracks outta the town, sightings, anything. Let me an’ our Cleric get rid'a the blasphemous contents of the house. After that’s done, y'can burn the house down, but only after Nuria deems it safe. Fair?’

DM: The townsfolk all chatter over each other in agreement and back up away from the house.

Nuria Quil: "Alright, go ahead and get some oil and torches, we’ll go grab all the stuff that might make cursed smoke out of the building.”

DM: About half the crowd disperses to obey. The rest huddle closer, eyes on the two of you.

Nuria Quil: “Alright, lists get started. Who wants a lesson in how to avoid being afflicted by witchcraft?”

DM: The crowd responds with a chorus of yeses.

Nuria Quil: I walk into the room and leave the door open. “So if you look here, these are potions. Potions are a liquid form of magic, they are usually highly volatile, and as always highly dangerous curses. There are various cursed relics on the table, these are strange in nature. They can have any deadly effect a witch puts to them, capable of corrupting any and everything. Obviously very dangerous.”

DM: Jameson seems to be the only one brave enough to follow you in. “So how do we move them safely?” He asks.

Nuria Quil: “Well, there I’m not to sure. I’m confident that as long as we don’t breathe it in, or get any of it on us we should be fine. The cursed items could go off just by touching them, so I don’t know… But I think we can just burn those in here no problem.”

DM: He points to the parchment. “Maybe she left some notes? Or clues about what she was up to?”

Nuria Quil: “Hmm. I didn’t see that. I wonder if she out where she’s going.” I walk over to the note and peer at it.

DM: There are several scrolls hanging noticeably over the edge of their shelf. The first one seems indecipherable, like it was written in gibberish. The second is words. It’s hard to explain, but you feel a tug in your spirit, like you do when facing the door to Dreams. You get a sense that reading this out loud will allow someone to push normal mortal limitations on reflex and agility.

Nuria Quil: “This is a strong kind of magic. Something is deeply wrong with this paper.” I lay it on the table in front of James. “This one, however, is just gibberish raving of a crazy witch.” I hold up the other paper.

DM: There are three more scrolls.

Nuria Quil: I start reading them, sort them magic and non-magic.

DM: Two of the three are “legible” in the same non -iteral way as the first. The third is indecipherable. One seems to grant the power to lock a person in place, and the other feels like it does something that you know is impossible: bring a recently deceased person back to life. “A code maybe? Or some dark language? ”

Nuria Quil: I hold up the first scroll, “Gibberish.” I hold up the second, “Evil.” I hold up the third, “Evil gibberish.”

DM: “Then we should burn all five.” Jameson shudders.

Nuria Quil: “Sounds like a good plan. James, could you close the door for me real quick?”

DM: “With us inside?”

Nuria Quil: “Yeah,” I lower my voice “I need to tell you something, but I don’t want to make the others any more scared.”

DM: Jameson looks uncomfortable, but he gets up to close the door.

Nuria Quil: Once it’s closed I turn to him, put all the scrolls except for the paralysis one down, and look him dead in the eyes. “James. I can tell you with absolute certainty that Abather is not a witch.”

Abather Crowley: I’m beginning to feel uncomfortable myself, but feel relieved in a way. Until I realise what she’s probably up to, that is. Bloody fool! I know she’s a Witch, but does she have to let Jameson know!? She’d never be able to show her face in the area again! Cotton headed Git! Isn’t that what you want? She’s a Witch! I slowly reach my hand behind me, ready to grab at something in case Nuria does something seriously wrong.

Nuria Quil: “James, I’m a witch. I woke up, and turned into a witch.” I force my shield to glow again.

Abather Crowley: I stand there stunned. I knew it was coming, but I haven’t a clue how to react. All I can think to do is grab the pole that was once a long shovel into my trembling hand, holding it behind my back.

DM: Jameson shifts his weight from foot to foot. His eyes flick to Abather, to Nuria, to the scrolls, and then back to the shield. His mouth hangs open. “You woke up a witch?”

Nuria Quil: “Yes, we were knocked out in the mines, and I woke up a witch. I had a vision, I think Qoth is bleeding me with this, but I am not sure… Also, I used my magic on you earlier. When you were knocked out I used it to heal you…” I turn off my shield.

DM: Jameson jumps.

Nuria Quil: “That’s all I promise. I feel like I can hurt people. I know this power is what destroyed the world, I can feel that, but I can help people! I used it to save you, I can use it to save this town. I can tell the others power. This scroll,” I hold up the first paper “can push you beyond human limits, make you move faster and stronger. That’s dangerous, but this one… This one can bring back the dead. It can save so many people!” I put all of them on the table again, and drop my sheild. “I won’t stop whatever you want to do, and I’d bet Ab will help you. Just, please I want you to trust me.”

DM: “You got these… powers…. from a vision?”

Nuria Quil: “Yeah. It was… Weird. Just a deserted village, only one other person was there, and they were asleep.”

DM: Jameson nods slowly. “ ‘From the dreams of the Goddess,’ ” he recites. He leaves the quote unfinished.

Nuria Quil: “James…” I walk up and place my Mace in his hands, “Please keep safe, the town needs you if I’m gone. I trust your judgement, your much older than me after all. You know the prayers as well as I do, and the town trusts you. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

DM: Jameson is quiet a long time. He accepts the mace, putting your hands in his as he looks you in the eye. “We will destroy these things. Qoth has blessed you to shield us from dark arcana…. so find Dina. Figure out what she wanted from us. Figure out what she may have done to us already.”

Nuria Quil: “I don’t know where she is, if she left town we may have a chance to follow her. If she teleported in the mines she could be anywhere in the world. Right now, we still need to help with all this magic. The reason I suggested studying it… Well, magic doesn’t burn. None of this is flammable. I can sit down a find out if it’s dangerous or not, but that takes time.”

DM: “They won’t be happy about that… They may not even believe you.”

Nuria Quil: “I didn’t want to scare them. If they burn the house and all this stuff stays unharmed. They would probably get freaked out.”

DM: “If you need time to study them…” He exhales. “Your friend and I can move them. When the house is cleansed, they will only see the ashes.” He looks to Abather for confirmation.

Abather Crowley: “Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Right. I have a… Quite a bit of room in my pack, can move em that way…” I exhale in relief, letting the grip on the broken shovel go.

Nuria Quil: “Right well. Let’s grab all this stuff. Anything that could be magic stuff in a bag, and then I’ll look at it later, find out which ones are immediately dangerous and which ones we can just bury.”

DM: You stuff the vials, scrolls, and the four figurines into the knapsack. Jameson taps each thing quickly before grabbing it for real–like one would check a pan to see if it’s hot. In no time you have everything packed up.

Nuria Quil: “Alright, we got all the dangerous stuff out. Go ahead and burn it down.”

DM: Jameson nods. You all walk outside and a villager comes forward with a torch, and sets it to the dry thatched roof of Dina’s house. The fire catches and crackles as it spreads around the house. The townsfolk gather around to watch, and you can tell that they are relieved. They feel as if they have put this all to rest, cleansed the revelations of the day in fire.

The two of you know better than that.

[dstickman-blog]

Interlude 1 - pt.3

DM: Nuria from where you’re at, you watch Jameson Hit the Dirt and Ab bend over him in panic. You can’t hear anything anyone saying from where you are at.

Nuria Quil: “James!”

Abather Crowley: I have seen death, as a hunter. I take the life of an animal so I may extend my own; makes a right good feast it does. I’ve seen the death of loved ones. My Grandfather, on his deathbed, and… Elaine, the day of the storm. But this…. This is Sudden, like Elaine- Before me, like my grandfather…. Unforgiving, like death. It’s a lot to take in, seeing death in this way for the first time. I’m unable to speak, unable to think. Compounded on the stress of seeing magic, a witch, and…. Perhaps being caught up in it myself, this is just too much for me, all at once. And so I cried out, doing the only thing I could do to try and process this.

This is witch’s work. But not her work. Does it matter? She uses the very same power as whoever- whatever caused this. Qalda, shine on me, get me outta this mess…

Nuria Quil: My face slacks, eyes growing horrified. “No no no no no no, please no. He isn’t dead, he can’t be. Abather please, tell me he isn’t dead.”

DM: Jameson is alive, but very unconscious. Chivay seems to see it too, and kneels to lift Jameson’s head.

Nuria Quil: Sighing, my composure returns, as I kneel beside James. “He’s okay, thank the lady mother, he’s okay. What happened?”

DM: Chivay shakes his head. He tries to pull back Jameson’s eyelids to take a peek into them. “Dunno. He seemed confused about the time of day and then he just… dropped.”

Nuria Quil: “All of the miners think it’s only been about ten minutes since you got to town. It’s not just him, there’s witchcraft here… There is something loose in Colley Hill.”

Abather Crowley: Uppon learning Jameson is alive I stop screaming, but I’m still upset at everything happening around me. I simply hold my head in my hands, and take deep breaths. You see? Witchcraft. And you’re just going to sit back and let it happen?

Nuria Quil: “Mr. Chivay, do you have any pillows, or something to prop up his head in your cart?”

DM: Chivay seems to lost track of the conversation somewhere around the word ‘witchcraft.’ “I, uh… wha…”

Nuria Quil: “Mr. Chivay, are you alright?”

DM: He backs away from Jameson, looking down at his hands. “I… I shouldn’t have touched him. I didn’t know he was cursed!”

Nuria Quil: “Please calm down Mr. Chivay. Getting worked up will only make this worse. We need to find out how did this to him, and then find them.”

DM: His eyes dart to you. “I don’t know. I just saw him for a moment! Second time I seen him in my life…” On the ground, Jameson stirs. He moans, and starts to roll onto his side.

Nuria Quil: “Seen who Mr. Chivay?”

DM: He points down to Jameson.

Nuria Quil: “Ah, I was hoping you were talking about our witch…”

DM: His face turns wary. “There’s no witch,” he says. “You’re just… just confused. That’s all.” He seems to slowly be convincing himself. “Yes, maybe you all caught a sickness down in that mine. Seeing things, or feverish. I have some things in my cart what could help with that…”

Nuria Quil: “I think you’re probably right Mr. Chivay, Abather and I did inhale something down there… Why don’t you go get some of that medicine from your cart, see if any of those prove effective.”

DM: Chivay nods emphatically and scrambles away.

Nuria Quil: Once he walks away i’m going to push as much of the power of Quoth I have in me into Jameson.

Abather Crowley: That’s right, a fever! Me and Nuria inhaled those spores! This… It’s all just a trick, surely. I have nothing to fear…

DM: Describe what this spell looks like for anyone watching.

Nuria Quil: Light seems to cowl around Nuria, slowly drifting to her hands until it disappears and a light appears within James’ chest. His wounds and bruises from a hard miners life slowly fade and seal as the light subsides.

DM: His body relaxes and his eyes flutter open. “What…”

Nuria Quil: “Hey buddy, you alright?”

DM: “I think so… oh. My head…” Jameson sits upright.

Nuria Quil: “You seem to have found what we’re looking for… Rather, it found you.”

Abather Crowley: Did she just?…. Heal him?…. With magic?… But- but Magic is just… A tool of destruction! A brush for mages to paint chaos upon the world! And yet, it can revitalize a man?

DM: “Cleric Quill… and…” he turns to Abather, and his face turns ashen. “You!” He points. “You’re the one who came out of the mine! You were… you went into our heads. I remember…” He winces and drops his head to his hands woozily.

Abather Crowley: My eyes widen, head rising out of my hands in some urgency. “Inta your-… No! That’s- That ain’t it! It’s… Impossible!…. It has to be…! Are you?…. Accusing me'a…. W-witchcraft?….!”

DM: His face hardens. “I saw what you did. I bet everyone else will remember too, when we crack through whatever you put on them.”

Nuria Quil: “I’ve been right next to him the whole time James. Are you sure?”

Abather Crowley: I slowly stand, shaking my head vigorously to shake horrid thoughts of what they do to those accused of witchcraft. “I ain’t no witch! I’m…. I’m Abather Crowley. jus’ a simple farmer from Riverview! Nothin’ more, nothin’ less!…..” My face hardens a bit, gaining a semblence of composure, as I reassure who I am to myself. “I- I ain’t gonna sit here'n let ya call me a Witch. I dunno what happen'ta you, or me, or Miss Quil, but… If there’s Witchcraft goin’ on somewhere, I ain’t gonna be a part of it. Where’s Mr. Chivay? He can vouch fer me. And if he can’t, by Qalda, let 'er light burn me now.”

Nuria Quil: “James, close your eyes. What does the man look like? Don’t look at Ab when you describe him.”

DM: Jameson takes a breath. “Brown hair, freckles. Leather jacket. Scarf. Human…” He opens his eyes. “It was you. You said… you said…”

Nuria Quil: “James… I just don’t think I can believe that, he was right next to me the entire time. As much as I want to believe you… Well, the mage has already messed with your memory once, it’s possible that it could be done again. It’s going to be difficult to figure this out, all of the miners have been effected.”

DM: “I know who messed with our memories. He did. And probably yours, Cleric.” Jameson stands up. His hands clench into fists.

Abather Crowley: “And who’s ta say y'ain’t raving like a madman!? Witchcraft can do lots, Mr. Jameson! Who’s ta say I ain’t bein’ framed!? Go on, prove I did it! Unless y'wanna leave that ta the Gods, Qalda shine on me!” My own hands begin to clench, getting scared, confused, and fed up with this situation. “Go on then! Give me yer proof! Without it, yer as good as a man drowned in his own mug!”

Nuria Quil: “Both of you stop! Just stop! I will not having in-fighting in this village! We can work this out. Let’s say Abather isn’t for sure the witch, but could be. We’ll keep a very close eye on him. Next we need to ask everyone in town and see who has and hasn’t been effected. Agreed?”

Abather Crowley: Put me in shackles next, why don’t you? Take my crossbow? “No issue, Miss Cleric. I jus’ wanna get this over with….”

Nuria Quil: “I really, really, want to believe that you aren’t a witch. You just seem like such a nice guy from a somewhere beyond us. I trust James, and if he says he saw you… He saw you. I hope that he just saw someone that made themself look like you, that would clear this all up.”

Abather Crowley: Accusing ME, you hypocrite!? Let’s not forget which one of us used magic, no doubt. “Do what ya gotta do… I’m a foreigner, I know. This all started when I got in ta town, after all. I’d be suspicious too. I don’t blame ya…. But I ain’t no witch, no way.”

Nuria Quil: “I believe you, you were in the mines with me. We just need proof.”

DM: Jameson seems hesitant, but then he nods. He eyes Abather suspiciously but doesn’t say anything. As you all are settling down, Chivay returns. “Oh. He’s up. Is he… you know…”

Abather Crowley: Upon seeing Mr. Chivay, I begin to feel a little bit of hope. Maybe he can get me out of this? He’s smarter'n me, at least. “Mr. Chivay! I need yer help. These fine folk are slanderin’ me, calling me things I ain’t. Now I gotta clear my name. Y'can attest I ain’t nothin’ more than a farmer from Riverview, yeah? Just a simple fella.”

DM: Chivay nods. “Of course, he’s a fine shot with that crossbow, but not a bad man in the slightest. A bit too soft, even, if anything.” Jameson doesn’t seem convinced, but he lets it go.

Abather Crowley: My shoulders slack in relief. “Thank you, Mr. Chivay… It’s… Comforting ta know I have at least one person on my side.”

DM: “What’s even going on here?”

Nuria Quil: “We don’t know.”

DM: Jameson rubs his head, then addresses Nuria. It looks like he’s trying to pretend that Chivay and Abather aren’t even here. “Cleric, I should go check on the miners. If they were also afflicted…”

Nuria Quil: “I asked earlier. They all have been.”

DM: “Can we fix them? Perhaps a little more…gently than I was?”

Nuria Quil: “I don’t know how this works, I’m open to ideas!”

DM: “Just getting them free of it as soon as possible…” Jameson shudders. “It makes you wonder… maybe the things we think we know, or think we remember…”

Nuria Quil: “Should we try and do it in one go? Just a big assembly all at once, or do it one by one?”

DM: “I don’t know.”

Nuria Quil: “Ab?”

Abather Crowley: “I uhh… I dunno how ta handle this, Miss. I ain’t sure what'cha did to put sense into Jameson. Maybe y'can just point out the inconsistencies in everyone’s claims at once, in a crowd? Break it down, step by step. I’ll sit by wherever y'want me to, if ya feel suspicious of me.”

Nuria Quil: “Right, uhh. How do you suppose that?”

Abather Crowley: “Simple. Jus’ gather all the folk in one place again. Ya could use Mr. Chivay somehow ta do that, maybe. Or y'can call everyone together on the basis of an emergency. You’re the Local Cleric, so they should listen t'you. I know most everyone in Riverview listens ta old Tom, our local Friar. Y'got the authority, I’d imagine, Miss.”

Nuria Quil: “Well, I meant how do we 'cure’ them all together? Gathering them won’t be too hard, but we had to.fight with James to get him to wake up.”

DM: Jameson takes a breath. “It was hard, I admit… because I knew the things you were saying were true, but I… I remembered everything differently. I had to choose between trusting you and trusting my memory.” He makes a sign invoking Qoth, and says something in Elvish.

Abather Crowley: “Well, then we can maybe slowly work our way through the city?”

Nuria Quil: “I guess we’ll just have to see what happens as it happens. Let’s start from the mine and work outwards.”

DM: The three of you leave Chivay behind and head back to the mine, where people are stowing tools and taking inventory for the night.

DM: As you get near, another miner Nuria recognizes comes towards you. Nuria, care to describe them?

Nuria Quil: Alan is generally a dirty man. Sweat and grime from the mines coat his everyday life, and most days intrude to his dreams. While he does spend most of his time in the mines, he isn’t a miner. He is the brains of the operation. A prospector and architect, he keeps the mines moving. As well as stopping them from falling.

DM: “Hey there, Cleric. Weren’t expecting you back so quick. We are wrapping up in here. Probably gonna collapse that cursed section and follow the vein straight down to avoid it.”

Abather Crowley: I nearly open my mouth to protest, but decide against it, biting my tongue. What if they anger some sort of monster, if they do that? Release some sort of ancient power?- What am I thinking? No, forget about that. These things must remain burried.

Nuria Quil: “I think you better not. We need to take a closer look and make sure there’s nothing else going on in there. Don’t want any side effects from it…”

DM: He seems surprised. “You sure, miss? It seemed like you were in and out of there in a hurry the last time you went in.”

Nuria Quil: “Alan, can I trust you?”

DM: Alan glances at Abather. “Of course, ma'am. Is everything all right?”

Nuria Quil: “Absolutely not. When did we walk into that mine, Alan?”

DM: “About two hours into our day… maybe two bells before midday?”

Nuria Quil: “Sounds about right. How long were we in there?”

DM: “Just a few moments. Cleric are you… all right?”

Nuria Quil: “Just a little longer. So I went into the mine, came out shortly after, went to my house, and walked back. Then how is it already this late?”

Abather Crowley: “Some kinda odd predicament, for sure, Miss Cleric. Ain’t no way it wasn’t a few hours.” I assured to the miner, with a nod to my head.

DM: He opens his mouth, then closes it. He wrestles with a thought. “I suppose… huh. Wait.” He points to Abather and squints. “This guy came out earlier than you. But then… He came out again with you later. But I never saw him go back in there in between. I…. I know that don’t sound right but I remember it. I remember it both ways.”

Nuria Quil: “Thank you so much Alan, you just cleared something very important. Now we know it’s someone who looks like Ab, not someone who makes people think he was just anyone else. Ab I have a plan, that’s probably awful. How angry would you consider yourself right now?”

Abather Crowley: “If I weren’t a good ol’ fella and taught proper, I’d probably shoot someone.”

Nuria Quil: “Yeah, yeah. I did tell him to do it. I had an elaborate plan, which apparently hasn’t worked out. Basically just… Tell everyone that if they see him by himself to catch him. If he’s with me he’s fine. There’s a doppleganger out there.”

DM: A chill seems to run through the miners. The ones further away start exchanging looks and murmuring. The miner who approached Abather with the pick swallows. “Doppelgangers… doppelgangers ain’t real ma'am.”

Nuria Quil: “I cannot believe that I didn’t think of that. I think you may have just cracked the whole thing. You may have just saved the entire town.”

Abather Crowley: A doppleganger? Like that tale with the merchant?… Qalda, get me out of this town! “Umm, Miss Nuria? Did'ya figure something out?… How did he save the town?”

Nuria Quil: “We’ve been thinking about it wrong this whole time. We aren’t looking for a witch that made themselves look like you. We’re looking for something that IS you.”

Abather Crowley: “But… I’m right here?”

Nuria Quil: “Are you?”

Abather Crowley: I was going to open my mouth and debate with her, but this day has been crazy enough that I actually begin questioning it. “But if we’re lookin’ for me, and I’m right here, why we still looking?”

Nuria Quil: “The other you. Except we have a new problem now. The not you you could be anyone not being anyone. We’re going to find everyone and figure out who’s not who they are. Following me?”

Abather Crowley: I slowly nod, pretending I understand. Better to just do what she says. “I think so?… ”

DM: “Maybe it’s just me, but I am totally lost,” says one of the miners. The others murmur in agreement.

Nuria Quil: “That’s exactly what we want. So if we are confused then the thing that isn’t us is also confused because it’s us. Gather the entire town. We’re going to find this thing tonight and I know exactly how.”

DM: The miners furrow their brows. One says “Wot?”

Alan clears his throat. “We asked the Cleric to investigate that cursed space. Now she is asking something of us. Call a town meeting.” The miners disperse, many heading up for the town walls.

Abather Crowley: After some of the miners disperse enough, I try to pull Nuria away from the crowd, and whisper in a bit of a worried, slightly angered tone. “What are y'doing!? Aren’t we supposed to be clearing my name!? This seriously isn’t helping!”

Nuria Quil: “We’re on a tight schedule here. So listen up. The new plan is we get everyone in one place. Anyone who doesn’t come, we’ll know. If the creature thinks hiding in plain sight is the best option, I’m going to find them in the crowd. Now then, how confident are you with the launcher at your side?”

Abather Crowley: “More confident with the one on ma back, but I’d say I’m pretty good at both. Why, you want me t'shoot the guy?”

Nuria Quil: “Well then use the one on your back. What else do you think we’re gonna do to the guy? Give it some cookies and milk? Those cookies and milk are for us good God serving folk Ames.”

Abather Crowley: “Look, I ain’t shot no-body before, at least not on purpose. This is pretty new ta me, but… Can’t be too different than a boar, right?…”

Nuria Quil: “Except flip it 90 degrees, and take out 2 legs. Alright let’s go find you a vantage point.”

Abather Crowley: “How will I know it’s him? Y'gonna signal me somehow?..”

Nuria Quil: “Oh yeah, it’ll be like a torch.”

Abather Crowley: “Will you be holding it, or him, or?…”

Nuria Quil: “They will literally start glowing. You’re really killing my vibe.”

Abather Crowley: “Vibe? What are you-… Look, I’m sorry, I’m new to all this supernatural stuff, Y'know? And still not entirely accepting of it, but thats'a conversation fer later. Just help me clear my name. Please?”

Nuria Quil: “I will. Now we need to find you somewhere to shoot from, explain along the way.”

Abather Crowley: I resign myself to her madness, and simply follow Nuria.

[dstickman-blog]

Interlude 1 - pt.1

Interlude: Abather and Nuria Part 1 - The Dream

DM: Nuria, you are standing in front of doorway in your room that you have never seen before, made of twisting veins of copper and tin. The ceiling is gone above you and the constellations swirl like flakes in a snow globe. It’s how you know you’re dreaming.

Nuria Quil: I reach to inspect the veins in the door.

DM: The door seems to spread away from your fingers as if to open itself for you. The door pulls away around your hand like an iris opening. Through the hole you can see a vaguely orange glow. The Slumbering World, you think, as if someone thought the words for you in a way you would understand–a translation, an approximation of a concept too big for you.

Nuria Quil: I hold my faith to Qoth close as I walk through the door

DM: Thinking about Qoth seems to open the iris widely. It feels welcoming, like coming home. You walk through the door to find yourself in the center of a town on fire, every building burning. The flames feel easy and warm to you, and you hear a soft and friendly rustle, like wind through a sunflower field. You are walking through a mirage, or perhaps a memory. You feel a gentle tug forward, like a child pulling on your sleeve to show you something.

Nuria Quil: I lean down to speak to the child before changing my mind, I reach for her hand and gesture for her to lead.

DM: She walks towards a burning house off to the east. The sky blurs as you go, like time is going forward and back again days at a time. After the first few steps the child fades away but you instinctively follow the path it was headed. Soon you find yourself standing in front of the house. The door is closed but you can still see through it.

Nuria Quil: I check the front of the building for a sign or name, then pass through the doorway.

DM: It seems purely residential with no outstanding demarcation. A simple two story house on fire.

DM: The house is furnished on the first floor, but much of it has burned to a point past recognition. There is a staircase leading up to the second floor that still seems walkable. The planks beneath your feet are burning, but here in The Slumbering World it feels as though you’re walking on warm sand.

Nuria Quil: I slip through the flames to the second floor

DM: Pushing through the flames feels like parting curtains of silk. You walk up the stairs and see a short hallway of three doors, all open. The second room of the three has a young woman lying on her side. Her clothes are smoldering in some places, and she is completely bald. She appears to be sleeping.

Nuria Quil: Gently, I creep over, and try to carry her outside. Away from the flames.

DM: You touch her and she starts, coughing in the smoke. She doesn’t seem able to see you. After a moment she pushes herself free of some debris and stands. From her side you see something slip from her hands. A bead, or a marble. A perfect sphere of red glass, glowing gently. It falls to the ground and she stumbles through you, out of the room and down the stairs. It looks like she is yelling, but you cannot hear her.

Nuria Quil: I bend down and try to pick the little red glass, and follow the woman.

DM: The glass seems to beckon you. You lean to pick it up and right before your fingers can touch it The Slumbering World fades away. You slide back to consciousness, in your bed. It’s early in the morning, before sunrise.

Nuria Quil: I sit up in bed and starting going about my morning rituals, and preparing breakfast.

DM: Colley Hill is a small frontier town of miners and a few professional guards, and you’re the only Cleric of Qoth around. The villagers are letting you stay in a modest house near the center square–what’s it like? How have you furnished it?

Nuria Quil: The house is a simple structure. Wooden and stone, sturdy and vacant. A bedroom with a large bed, and small dresser occupies the top attic of the building. The ground floor is clear of walls and doors besides the entrance. The open space is occupied by vines, herbs, and assorted flowering plants. Pillows and sheets are scattered among the roots. A small dog roams the foliage. A sturdy wooden portal acts as entrance and exit to the building.

DM: Breakfast by this point is starting to get very dull. All meals are nearly the same, actually: some combination of grain based stew or porridge with hard cheese and salt meats. Colley Hill isn’t exactly a prime route for traders and merchants. The local farmers grow staple crops designed to keep the miners fed, not tickle anyone’s palate.

Nuria Quil: I clean my plate and exit to go to the village church.

DM: Church is an optimistic term given that the building has not yet had walls erected. For now the villagers still call this place the shrine and it is in truth little more than that. The miners has been helping to convert this area into a place of worship but it is slow going and much of their time is volunteered around long shifts pulling tin from the veins beneath the hill. It is the middle of the week, which is traditionally a long shift day, so you are unsurprised to only see one digger here at the moment. It’s a regular visitor: care to describe them?

Nuria Quil: Jameson is a stoic man. Poor early life has left him crippled, his left arm slightly smaller than his right, and by all other aspects normal. He is an elf well over a human life at this point and keeps his well built physique from the mine work. He speaks only in whispers and has a sharp tongue in his mouth. But he is always kind in purpose, and a welcome face around the town .

DM: He bows his head in respect as you approach, just like he does every day. “Cleric Nuria. I seek a blessing from Qoth before I begin my dig.”

Nuria Quil: “Of course, may I ask why? Are there troubles in the mines lately?”

DM: “No, Cleric. But Qoth made the lands and sky. We should thank her when we reap from her creation.”

Nuria Quil: “Your thanks come from the life you live, but, your always welcome if you feel that’s proper.” Then I sit next to him and begin praying.

DM: He lowers his head until you are finished. Then, he stands. “Thank you, Cleric.” From the far end of the hill you hear a muffled horn blow. Jameson tenses up. One horn means attack. Then, after a second that feels much too long, a second blast. Traders come to town. Jameson relaxes. “Phew,” he says. “Hopefully they bring spices. I have been foraging in the woods rather than swallow another bite of bland porridge.”

Nuria Quil: “I keep offering to give you some herbs!” I shake my head and begin walking towards town. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. I just hope they have cinnamon. Maybe sugar.”

DM: A loaded wagon drawn by a pair of donkeys is slowly creaking into town. A couple of villagers have already gathered. The two outlanders who came with the cart stick out like a sore thumb amongst the laborers’ garb of the miners. Abather, care to describe what Nuria sees?

Abather Crowley: Sitting in the front seat of the cart, a middle aged man dressed in nicer clothes than anyone in the village, is accompanied by a small, younger man, dressed in very plain, comfortable clothes, with a green scarf around his shoulders. The older man carries the aura of a savvy and experienced businessman, the other looks barely suited to holding a weapon, much less a heavy crossbow, with the friendly demeanor he gives off.

The older man shoos villagers out of his path, continuing his course into the heart of town, as the younger man waves at, who he deems to be, friendly villagers passing by.

Nuria Quil: I walk up to the wagon, put one foot up, and hang off the side without asking permission. “Welcome to our little town, sirs. I’m Qoth’s priestess here, Nuria. May I ask your names?”

Abather Crowley: I smile, readjusting the crossbow on my lap. “Abather Crowley. Pleasure t'meetcha, Miss Nuria. This here is Mr. Chivay.” I turn into the cart a moment, grabbing a backpack from the cart, a pot and shovel clinking against eachother as I moves it. “Y'here ta trade?”

Nuria Quil: “Not quite, just here to be friendly. Do you two have a place to stay?”

DM: “Anyone who wants to is welcome to trade!” Chivay says. “A little bird told me you all were eating wheat germ three meals a day and I thought to myself, ‘these people need some small comforts!’ ”

Nuria Quil: “What kind of small comforts?”

DM: He takes a deep breath. His mouth curls into a small smile. “Ladies and gentleminers of Colley Hill. I present to you… a saviour of flavor! The deal of meals! The spices that’s nicest!” He pulls the tarp off the wagon, revealing bushels of dried herbs, crates of fruit preserves, and full legs of salt pork. The smells are overpowering. Nuria, your mouth starts watering immediately.

Nuria Quil: “Alright, maybe I’ll trade a little…”

Abather Crowley: I sling my heavy crossbow over my shoulder, letting it hang next to my backpack. Trying to look inconspicuous, I puts a mint leaf I swiped from Mr. Chivay into my mouth, all the smells making me a bit peckish.

DM: “Aha! A cleric with an eye for quality!” He touches his index fingers to the outside corners of his eyes–a sign of respect to Qoth. “What is it here that interests you, miss?”

Nuria Quil: “If I’m being honest. All of it. Sadly, I don’t think I could carry that, let alone afford it.”

DM: He makes a sad face. It seems like a standard part of his sales strategy. “Well, perhaps to start… a jar of this pestle pepper sauce, straight from the Teeth. It’s spicy, it’s tangy. Abather here can’t stop putting it on everything!”

Nuria Quil: “I’d like something that’ll last a while. I haven’t seen many traders for a while through here. So, if you have something cheap and strong… That would be perfect.”

DM: “Well, this sauce here I could part with for… three silver a jar?”

Nuria Quil: “Well, do you have anything sweeter? I haven’t quite grown out of my candy phase.” I wink generously at him.

Abather Crowley: I smile, chuckling to myself. “Mr. Chivay has some types of Honey, I think. They make ya wanna lick yer fingers, they’re so good.”

DM: “Of course! Honey cookies, sugared dates, and even Elf taffy!”

Nuria Quil: “Alright, all of those need to be inside of my mouth right now. I’ll take the elf taffy, and just straight honey if I can afford it.”

DM: You make your exchanges. As you are wrapping up one of the miners runs up the square, sweaty and out of breath. She points in the direction of the entrance to the mine shaft and cries out “Cleric Nuria! We found something in the mine! Some bodies, may be some cursed relics!” The nearby townsfolk start to babble at each other, their voices mingling into a low rabble.

Abather Crowley: “Bodies?…” I make sure my hand crossbow is at my hip, and hop out of the cart. “Wouldn’t want Ms. Nuria to go unarmed, Mr. Chivay. Could be a wild animal, like a big cat. Y'don’t mind if I cash in our deal here until ya leave town, Mr. Chivay? Y'should be safe in town.”

Nuria Quil: “I’d really appreciate that, how bout letting your body guard go help your favorite customer?”

DM: “Nothing like an animal attack or fresh corpses no no. It’s like there used to be some kind of older town here that got covered up by the hill,” the miner says. Chivay just seems perturbed that something has interrupted his sales pitch. “Yes yes, of course. Go ahead. And hey Ab! Send those folks in the mine up here. They may need some honey cookies or mint tea to take their mind off what they seen!”

Abather Crowley: I nod, adjusting all the equipment slung over my shoulder, and snag another mint leaf from the cart. “I’m new t'town, Miss Nuria. If ya could lead the way, I’d 'preciate it.”

Nuria Quil: “I’ll have to make a quick trip by my house, gotta grab my stuff. We can head out after that.” I lead Abather to my house, grab my armor, sheild, and Mace. Then I head to the mines.

DM: The miner follows you both back to Nuria’s house while she gets outfitted. Her eyes widen when she sees you step back out fully geared. “Cleric Nuria, I had no idea you were a warrior.”

Abather Crowley: I scratch the back of my head, a little surprised myself. “Not ta sound rude Miss Nuria, but ya don’ really look t'be the fighting type. All this gear looks… Peculiar, I think. But if ya know how to use it, I ain’t gonna complain.”

Nuria Quil: “Both of you are right, I have no idea how to fight. I spent all my time in libraries, but I also figured it would be good to be prepared. So I picked the easiest stuff I could find. A big stick, and a shield to hide behind.”

DM: The area around the mines is tons of removed soil and rocky debris, and the opening is reinforced with hardy wood to help prevent collapse. Many miners are hanging around outside, whispering to each other as you arrive. The tunnel glows with lamplight and takes a slow curve of about 80 feet, which is about as far into it as you can see. Jameson is nearby. He seems to be giving some directions to a few other miners with carts and pickaxes.

Nuria Quil: “James! I heard of a curse. What’s happening here?”

DM: “I wasn’t in the tunnel when it happens but we all heard it. Figured it was a mine collapse at first, but when we got in it looked more like we dug straight through a wall and into some kind of ruins. I found this in there. I can read it for you if you don’t know Elvish.” He hands you a wooden plate. It looks like a signpost with runes carved into it. Clods of dirt are still packed onto it in places but the face has been scraped more or less clean.

Nuria Quil: “I have no idea what this says.”

Abather Crowley: I shrug, squinting at the strange, flowing characters. “Sorry, I ain’t able to read Elf stuff. I’m more used ta Dwarvish…”

DM: Jameson takes the piece of wood back and points along the words as he reads aloud. “ 'Place of all place-move.’ It doesn’t translate well word for word. A more accurate description would be…” He lowers his voice. “Teleportation room.”