Orc Cavern. Fount of Chaos.
Claire had reached into the Fount of Chaos and drawn forth several cards. Genelle had explained the symbols on various of the cards: the circle was clerical magic, the cup was water magic, the staff was air magic, the pentacle was earth magic, the sword was fire magic. There were lots of cards that could improve one's basic characteristics: speed, strength, etc. The others were mostly combinations, packages that taught combinations of skills and knowledges. To absorb the benefits of a card, one need only hold it in two hands and concentrate. But one could only take so many cards at a time. And one could only use so many cards. How many depended on the individual. A card taken but not used could be put back -- as Claire demonstrated by putting back a sword card -- and another taken.
Paris reached out into the whirlwind. A card almost leaped into her hand. In a soft voice, Genelle described the meaning of that card: a complicated card. For an Order. Paris then reached for a sword card and absorbed it. Finally she absorbed the first card and ended up holding a small piece of jewelry which she pinned on her left breast: a set of scales overlaid by a sword [Order of Paladins]. (See Paris & the Font of Chaos )
The others started reaching for cards. Claire took her cards and was left with a pendant of a pentacle to wear [Earth Mage]. Calais's cards featured a gear. Anton took staff cards and was left holding a small green stick [Air Mage]. Brillig took sword and circle cards [Monk]. Mia took a circle card (with a rainbow) and a cup card and found herself dressed in rainbow-coloured robes and holding a small goblet [Cleric of Chaos and Water Mage].
Red watched all this in amazement, finally drawing Paris and Genelle aside to question them about what had happened, and to seek advice as to what cards he should draw. Paris tried to get him to think about what things had given him joy in his brief life. He particularly described being allowed near the great horses of the baron and, to Paris, it seemed clear that animal life -- nature -- might touch the simple lad more than anything else.
Genelle described her experience. "The orcs took me to absorb as many of the silver cards as they could manage so that they could sacrifice me and the good I had absorbed. That would be an evil great enough to allow them to absorb a great many of the black cards. I have absorbed many cards."
Red asked, "Was the last one the one that allowed you to heal those?" He nodded at Calais and Anton.
Genelle smiled wryly. "The last was knowledge of the Kings of the Torat. I had absorbed many cards before that."
"Where is Torat? I have never heard of it."
Genelle's gentle smile had a touch of irony. She shook her head. "I do not know either."
Encouraged, Red reached into the Font and pulled out a couple of cards, one of which had a bow overlaying a dark vine. Paris glimpsed the card, bit her lip, and watched Red intently. Red closed his eyes, his mind filled with images -- impressions -- that he had never lived through: endless practice with bow and sword, exercises of running lightly from branch to branch high in forest canopy, page after page of books where he had never read before, cool green shadows that he could blend into and become hidden, quiet summonings of bird and animal. Finally, a great grove of trees, each shadow hiding a green-cloaked man or woman unseeable by less practiced eyes. Himself, walking down that long grove to where a woman stood holding a bow and a key. Behind her, enthroned in majesty, a man. As he reached the end of his walk, the woman brought the bow and key together and said, "Fortitude."
Red's eyes opened. He, too, was left with a piece of jewelry that he pinned onto his right shoulder: a bow overlaid by a key [Order of Rangers].
Paris looked at Red searchingly and then turned away to the others. Calais had just finished rifling the bodies of the orcs left atop this pillar. Claire was looking around. "Where are all the others," she said.
Genelle explained that none of the others who had been taken by the orcs had survived. They had all been eaten. The bigger orcs had had to guard her from being eaten by the smaller, less intelligent orcs. But sometimes, the orcs had waved before her -- parts of people she had once known. "Excuse me," Genelle added and stepped to the side, wrapped in her own undoubtedly unhappy thoughts and memories.
Claire urged, "We should go!"
Red looked at Paris, "Are we not going to wipe out the orcs on the rest of the pillars." Paris held out her hands in a shrug, "We have already cut the bridges." Then someone noticed a stone apparatus being brought up from far down the line of columns. It seemed that the orcs had means to rebuild the bridges.
Paris turned back to Red. "We set out to rescue Genelle. It would do no good to let ourselves be overrun by many orcs when we have accomplished that goal. We should see her to safety and so finish our mission."
Quickly retracing their steps along the tunnel, the Party exited, picking up the shields, spear and swords that had been left behind the first time. Recalling what had led the group forth that night, Anton used the trip back to tell Genelle about Deirdre and Goodwife Green. Genelle looked up. "It is a night of the old moon. Deirdre is Fate; she has three forms. The old one only comes when someone is to die. The young one comes at birth time."
"Then," someone commented, "although the orcs did not get her, it was Goodwife Green's time to die?"
Genelle nodded.
The rest of the night was spent digging out a few more survivors from the cellars of Jouet. All told, only about 24 people still remained, including the Party. Anton told the Party's story, deliberately colouring it to down-play any appearance of heroism by Red. Paris tried to insert corrections now and again, in fairness to the big lad.
At dawn, there was a great explosion to the north and flashes of silver flew through the air for great distances. None landed in the village of Jouet.
Taking what little had survived the orcs -- mostly root foods from the cellars -- the small band of survivors set out for the day's walk to their baron's manor to the east.
Finding himself more comfortable in the role of scout, Red ranged ahead. It was nearing sunset when he crested the hill beyond which was the manor. To his surprise a man was pelting hard towards him. A man with a stick and a bag. Beyond, the manor looked broken and bleak, its eastern village a smoldering heap. Red brought the stranger back to the group. There he was recognized as the stranger from the night before. He described creatures like stone but with wings and talons perched on the towers and walls of the manor. He said that he'd met a man with books heading south who had told him that those creatures had invaded the baron's home and town, destroying all within reach.
When asked his name, the hobo said, once again, "You must think me such a fool, but I cannot recall my name." The Party looked at each other and shrugged. Claire invited the fool to stay with their band of refugees for safety. Given that the baron was gone, the next logical step would be to continue another day east unto the castle of the Duke, and seek protection there.
Some question arose as to whether or not the baron was truly gone. Clearly if the monsters guarded the walls, even those who might have survived within could not get out. Anton lighted up. "I will go investigate!" he announced and began to chant and wave his green stick.
Paris looked worried and grabbed his arm. "What are you doing? How do you plan to investigate by yourself?"
Anton looked disgusted. "You have spoiled that spell! Do not do that! Do not disturb my magic. As to how, just watch!" With pride and bravado the storyteller started his spell-casting anew.
With obvious chagrin, Paris retorted. "If I do not know how or what, how can I be of any help or be able to rescue you if you get into trouble!"
"Who said I wanted any help," came Anton's self-assured reply, as he faded into invisibility.
Noting where he had gone and following his shimmer with her eyes for a while, Paris still evidenced obvious frustration. Then deliberately, she turned her face away and shrugged.
"I'm going to go watch," announced Calais, "in case we can see the -- creatures -- all heading for one place. That is likely to be Anton."
"Gargoyles," Claire said, drawing on her card-given knowledge of earth magics. "They are called gargoyles and they are strong and tough and they see in places of total darkness."
"Whew!" said Red, "Then Anton may be in real trouble."
"We should all get as close as we can, then," said Paris.
Calais nodded. "I'll scout for the best cover where we can watch and not draw attention."
Goodman Swordkeeper moved the rest of the villagers into hiding behind the hill, while the Party moved stealthily forward.
Meanwhile, Anton had made his way to the south edge of the ruined village that straggled along the east and south of the manor wall. The stone creatures were spaced along the wall as though they had been carved there and, although none seemed to move, it always seemed as though one were watching him. Anton poked through the smoldering ruins. Looking up at the manor, he noticed that the tower seemed caved in and its top encased in permanent blackness, although at this time it should have been gilded by sunset. There was a heavy black stain running down the east wall of the manor as well. Anton shivered slightly and turned back to the village ruins. All he found there -- taking care not to go too close to the part of the village near the manor wall -- was some evidence that Someone had moved a goodly-sized stone after the village had been wrecked and burned. Anton's mind immediately returned to the Fool's tale of the man with the books. "A mage!" he guessed. "Returned to get his hidden books." Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Anton decided that his 'investigation' did not need to include entering the manor walls to find any survivors therein. He returned to where he had left the Party.
Listening to the storyteller's descriptions, Red turned troubled eyes to Paris. "Why did he," nodding at Anton, "not do what he said he was going to do." Understanding that Anton's boastful display of magic could be understood by the tall simpleton as a lie, the girl tried to explain that this was a late show of wisdom by the storyteller, the wisdom that she had been trying to urge when she first halted his magic. But her words sounded hollow even to herself and she stuttered into silence. Red was right. When all was said and done, Red was right. She would have to remember that.
The refugees moved away from the immediate neighborhood and settled into hiding for the night.
The road east was old but well paved. "Built," Genelle reached into her memories, "by the empire of Torat. No one remembers how long ago."
The next afternoon, Red was again scouting ahead of the band of refugees, when he saw a band of armored horsemen riding towards him down the road. He stepped out of their way and they stopped to address him while the rest of the Party strode up. They were a troop of eight of the Duke's men on patrol, trying to check out all the towns in this direction to determine what had survived the horrors of the nights past. Several were detailed out to escort the villagers of Jouet to the Duke's. The rest went on. Apparently most villages had been destroyed and the Duke was eagerly seeking books. The Party looked at each other in puzzlement.
The Duke's castle had changed. A huge area round about had been paved in white. The castle rose in huge and incredibly high towers of fairy tale dimensions and proportions. The town had grown greatly. And all was gleaming white. White. White. The seneschal greeted the group and drew them to a part of town in the west section as yet uninhabited, turning over to them several houses around a fountained square, and pointing out the area next over where he had placed the survivors of the baron's town just yesterday. There had been no word of the baron himself. The seneschal explained that all this had been transformed during the night of madness and there still had not been time to explore all of it. Everyone was being asked to bring any books found in their new dwellings to the Duke's palace. He himself would wait while the important people of Jouet -- Goodman Swordkeeper, Genelle, and the seven Party members -- readied themselves for an interview with the duke.
The Seven took a single house. Cursory exploration revealed that it was simply furnished but without books or treasure. A few cloaks hung in the wardrobes and a couple days worth of food was stored in the kitchen. Brillig noted that the new, enlarged town now covered areas where the Duke had had vineyards, orchards and grain fields. Food was going to be a problem soon.
Red asked Genelle what would happen to all the people here if this new town disappeared as suddenly as it had come. She got her unfocussed mystical look and said, "That could not happen until the world ended." Someone gasped and she murmured, "It has ended before."
The seneschal commented that none who had been here during the transformation had been harmed although their possessions had been somewhat moved around. And then he chatted lightly of the hunt for food and the tally of skills being brought by refugees. All farmers would be highly valued and set to work come morning. But the tales being told were that they were not victims of only orcs and gargoyles. Some of the destroyers had been completely indescribable. Paris shouldered the orc shield and club. If the Duke needed another soldier, she was ready.
The castle was awe-inspiring. Those with knowledge of magic noted a couple of great glyphs of protection glowing on its side. And those with the proper senses noticed a draining of certain powers as they passed over the castle's threshold. There were miles of passages, stated the seneschal. He was not willing to climb the towers; they were too tall. He started to tell of a means for climbing them but stopped, baffled by the difficulty of the explanation. The group went past an immense, ornate, and completely unused throne room. People scurried here and there, obviously busy, obviously coping. The seneschal seemed right in his assessment at being understaffed. The entire place had an air of being too big for its current contents. Finally the group entered a solar where the duke seemed to be dealing with groups of people in an orderly fashion.
The Duke himself attracted immediate attention, encased as he was in a large and ornate suit of plate armor that seemed to glow with a light of its own. A guardsman was giving a report. "We broke into level Y. One room full of arrows. One room full of copper." The list went on amazingly but ending with "no food and no books, your grace. But we did find another passage down and another locked door which we will open as soon as your grace's artificer recovers from the last one." The noble Duke sounded frustrated, "Yes! Keep looking! There must be some book somewhere with instructions for how to get me out of this ***damn armor. Sorry, Padre." "That's all right, my son," soothed the nearby cleric.
When the Party's turn came, it was clear that the duke was immensely frustrated by his inexplicable and obviously magic armor ("He does not need to eat or use other bodily functions," confided the seneschal.) but nobly anxious that all those also discomfited by the changes and horrors of the week would be accommodated. He seemed particularly anxious to learn if anyone else had survived from further west, obviously disappointed that the only other survivors Jouet knew were the Fool and Anton's alleged mage. After Anton had told the tale of the Party's adventures (with Paris' glare as a reminder to treat Red's exploits fairly), the duke expressed an interest in sending for the mage and his books. Anton volunteered the Party to take this task in the stead of the duke's overwhelmed staff. The duke accepted the proffered help.
Some of the Party members inquired about the guilds of which their acquired knowledges had told them. The Duke was unfamiliar with any of the symbols save those worn by Red and Paris. His seneschal checked the book of reports under compilation and reported that rooms with those symbols were on lower level four of the palace. The Duke authorized the group to equip itself. A guide was assigned to take Paris and Red down.
They passed a door with a charred lock, possibly the one referred to in the guard's report. On level four, the two specified rooms had been locked, but those locks had been broken in. The room marked by the scales was labeled -- to Paris' eyes -- the Astraean Guard. Inside were stores of armor [4- 6] and various weapons as well as a scale balance. There was an empty shelf that Paris felt sure had once held some of the books of her vision, but it was empty. In the second room, labeled to Red's eyes "Etterilla", there were bows and quivers of arrows and other weapons along with a selection of grey and green cloaks. Both Paris and Red felt some discomfort when Claire asked if the rest of the party could outfit themselves from these supplies. The guide indicated some unmarked rooms in which were a jumble of more weapons and armor that the others could feel comfortable choosing.
EPs: 0
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