Darkwood--Deepening Dusk

[Laurel]

"Skyseeker, would these spores cause the growths Led saw on the corpse-like elf?"

[Seven Words]

"No, those markings are a sign of the "favor" of the power they serve. It is a growth, but not one that can be spread. Those fallen ones do derive some minor powers from them, as I recall."

[Vynarkus]

Vynarkus stares at Skyseeker in shock. "And I thought it was bad that people could be made to do evil things against their will. If that is possible..."

[Led Pighp]

"If he's being forced into these acts, he's still doing them. And he still needs to be stopped. Perhaps if the control is curable, he can be deemed worthy of ruling men once again; that's for the King to decide. But for now, he's one of the enemy who is trying to harm this town and this nation. Don't let your desire not to hurt or kill him prevent you from doing so if the need arises. Remember, technically you didn't WANT to kill any of the orcs or kobolds these last few days. But you had to, and you did it. This is no different."

"Make no mistake. What we're discussing... what I'm suggesting, will be called treason against Pavl. Since he's already betrayed his people, we're none of us obliged to follow his rule, and this isn't actually treason. At the least, he's being controlled and those aren't truly his orders anyway. Regardless, he and those loyal to him will call this treason and try to have us executed for it."

"We need to find more proof than a cleric with his inkpot on the wrong side of his belt, and a few scattered statements overheard through the city wall. We need something that will show all the people, and all the loyal armsmen of the city, that there is an enemy at work against this land, and that Pavl is in league with them. Then, they'll cast him down and replace him with a lawful leader, restore order, and join the fight against this enemy."

"But more importantly, we have about one day until the portal in the ruins opens up again. If we cannot get Pavl to order troups to defend it, I wonder if we even have time to play cloak and dagger with him. And yet, if we don't... the city could die from other sources while we head off to prevent that portal from opening."

"I think... we alone cannot do both. And I think that doing less than both will result in the same end... the city will die, either from within or without. Unless we can acquire a large group of trained and armed soldiers somewhere else, our only hope is to somehow remove Pavl from power, and replace him with someone who sees the wisdom of defending the portal in the ruins."

"Or, if he's really being controlled, find a way to remove that control, and convince the once-again-honorable Sir Pval to serve his King by defending the portal himself."

"So, if anybody has any ideas on exactly how we can do any of these things... say so. Because this gets into areas of arcane lore where I have no strength. Perhaps your druid master can give guidance, Sir Jauron? Did you get any reply from him when you communicated earlier?"

[Seven Words]

Jauron regretfully replies, "Not at once. Druids lack such spells of communication. However, he is likely to send a message by an owl later this night. I will have more information in the morning."

[Laurel]

"They bespelled the two guards at the gate, and were talking to a third man outside it. He was an elf. He was also deathly pale, as if he were a corpse, or maybe just never saw the light of the sun. He had what looked to be disease spots... like lichen growing on a rock, all over his skin. Skyseeker says that these marks are the signs of one of the ancient enemies from the war, so I'm guessing that it was really an elven civil war."

"Anyway, he threw some objects over the wall to them, to help them out. He said several things that disturbed me."

Elf: Is Sir Pavl properly prepared?

Human: yes, all the reagents, the "food", the nutrients and the <sinister chuckle> fertilizer.

Elf: Stars alignment wil be next couplle of nights. Imbue and flee, to sow fear and sap the wills. Use him and the converts to lead all out, and let It's Touch befall this place."

"This may not mean anything..," Laurel quietly muses to herself. "But when I worked yonder room earlier," with a nod towards the Commons Room, "and learned of the serving wench whose brother was a servant of Sir Pval, I had also heard that there had been a recent change to Sir Pval's menu in the last weeks...

"...t'was nothing I thought of import, however."

[Led Pighp]

"What kinds of changes? Perhaps we can find the one doing it, and put a stop to it. And hopefully do so in a way that's public enough to validate rising up against him."

"If we can find out who's being commanded (there may be others undergoing the same spell), perhaps we can find someone who is loyal to the Crown, and would believe that Pavl was ensorcerelled."

"Commander Herron seemed like a very hard man, but not a stupid one. He publicly disagreed with Pavl, and told us that he believed Marrik's claims of paladinhood. I would like him not to be controlled. His positio in the town would make him the next likely candidate to rule until Pavl's matter is considered by those above. He at least seems conpetant.

[Laurel]

The bard slowly shakes her head. "It means nothing to me. Only that in the last few weeks he's been eating more Heshic-influenced recipes. At least as far as spices and seasonings are concerned.

"But that is all I heard.
Surely a change in palate means nothing?"

[Led Pighp]

"What kind of changes?"

Led listens to Laurel's descriptions of "Heshic" dishes.

"About half of those are real. The other half aren't. For example, the third dish you mentioned isn't even a Heshic word. Our cuisine doesn't involve bread, because we don't have stoves in which to cook it. And the green plant with red tips to the leaves... I don't even know the name of it, but it grows nowhere in our plains. Our tradition says to avoid red plants, as they're said to contain angry spirits. We would never eat that."

"I know of no secret recipe my people could use to control the will of another. But I would believe that someone could put any combination of herbs, even the foul herbs of black magic, into foreign dishes, call them "a Heshic delicacy" and the eater would probably not know the difference."

"A common prank in my adopted people, when outsiders share our hospitality, is to offer them the most horrible tasting thing we can find. Dung beetles, skunk weed, the severed eyes of whatever animal we're having for dinner. We'll say "We save the best for our honored guest." and offer it to them. Sometimes it's difficult to stiffle the laughter while this person tries to smile while eating a gopher's eyeball..." Led himself stops to chuckle here, "... while they make this face of disgust, but strain to keep smiling nonetheless... a ha ha ha ahhhh.... and at the end of the meal...<deep inhale>... they thank us for it."

"I'd never thought of it this way before, but I assume you could trick someone into eating poison or any number of magical potions that way."

[Seven Words]

Marrik looks troubled at this.....still stinging from Sir Pval's treatment of him, now faced with the dilemna of Pval's volition in his actions.

"I suggest we await the morning, then. Jauron here expects to have more information for us, and Sir Pval will have something to say tomorrow as well."

[Led Pighp]

Led nods at this. "You are wise beyond words, my friend. There's too much we don't know at this point. Anything we do now would just be gross speculation, and likely to cause more damage than we fix."

Glancing in Laurel's direction, "Let's all of us relax and rest for the evening so we can be prepared to act in the morning. After the last few days, I know I could use some wine, a good meal, a hot bath, and a warm bed for once. I doubt we'll have the chance to do this again for a while."

[Laurel]

The bard slowly nods. "I have no idea what any of this means. But I look forward to a good meal, some more wine, and good company," as she smothers an alluring grin in the scribe's direction. "And a bath still sounds heavenly, if it is not too late to request one." Rising slowly, she glides towards the door. "I will put in a request for hot water to be prepared again. Does anyone else wish to have a bath prepared in their rooms?" she asks with a wink towards Led.

[Led Pighp]

"It seems wasteful to prepare two baths. I'll just borrwo yours, when you're done, if you don't mind."

Led also looks at the food on the table, and thinks of what he'd seen being served in the common room. "Your list of Heshic dishes has gotten me thinking of the food from back home. I won't be able to find such here, though. But some of your stew is similar. I think I quite like this 'bread' you people eat here."

[Laurel]

Laurel blushes at such a quick return on her implied offer.
"No, I don't mind at all. In fact, there's this one spot on my back that I may need a bit of help reaching, and you wouldn't want the water to get cold..." she drifts off, wistfully, then shakes her head.

"But "this bread you people eat here?" I am not from Sverdhame, but the cuisine on my parents farm in my home Ree is not all that different from here. What is the cuisine of your clans like?

[Led Pighp]

"The Heshics are nomadic. They have no permenant buildings, and no stoves. There's not a lot of space for cooking utensils, either. Our food tends towards stews, or meat cooked over a fire. You only need a pot for that, and maybe a spoon. The nuance is in the spices and ingredients."

"We have no farms, so it will be plants we can find along our paths, usually tubers of some kind or herbs growing around the place. Seeds and nuts are common, and fruits if we find them. We trade for dried fruits from abroad, but they're not very common. We eat heavily of meats, as well. Whatever game we can find, and what we cull from our herds. Fish, when we can catch them."

"Bread takes too much equipment to cook, so we have none. The closest thing we have is a sort of flat pancake of dough, cooked on a flat rock close to the fire. We use it to sop up the juices from the stew, but it's not the same as these loaves of fluffy bread they eat here. I won't even get into your cakes and pastries. So much sugar, it almost makes me sick."

"We have no grains, so no beer or ale. We have no grapes, so no wines. There's a drink made from fermented goat's milk, though I have no taste for it myself. It's not very strong compared even to your beer."

[Laurel]

"It all sounds...scrumptious," the bard replies, as she leans in and tops off Led's goblet with some of her elven white. "You are probably a far better cook on the trail than I. I have only traveled from my Ree to here, then as we headed towards the ruins, and have cooked only a few nights out in the open. May I observe your cooking when next we hit the trail?"

[Led Pighp]

"You're welcome to sample my food. Though, I wouldn't call myself very good at it. I can take meat and tubers, and cook them until they're safe to eat. And then hide the taste with some strong herbs and spices. As a scribe, I mostly guested with other tribes. I ate their food, and listened while my master talked with the tribal leaders. I've learned to appreciate good cooking, but not to create it."

[Laurel]

Her appetite sated, her thirst slacked, the bard nodded wearily at the scribe's words. It felt good to be under a roof, dined and wined, with a soft bed beckoning upstairs. Glancing at the rest of the party, she saw concern and contemplation on their faces, but she also saw weariness and relaxation settling in. As her gaze lingered past the door, she saw the flash of copper being carted past the door, followed by steaming kettles, all heading towards the stairs which went up to the sleeping chambers.

Slowly rising, she made a bow with a bit more flourish than was absolutely necessary, and addressed the party. "I think it is finally time for me to get the funk of the road off of me. I expect we will have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I would recommend we all find the best place to lay our heads for a few hours. So Skyseeker, gentlemen, I bid you good night. Until the morning when we gather around a steaming break fast."

With a smile towards the scribe, Laurel makes her way to the stairs, and drifts up them, wrapped in the lingering steam that was billowing ahead of her from the kettles.

[Led Pighp]

"And, on that note, gentlemen and... Skyseeker... I also will bid you a good night." Led follows Laurel out the doorway into the hall. Quiet chuckles can be heard from them as they head up the stairs together.

[Seven Words]

The following day, early afternoon, Sir Pval speaks....

"Good people, welcome. I am sure some of you have heard wild tales of grave peril and nefarious evil descending upon us. Such is not true. Some orcs have rallied under some petty spellcaster and have mastered a few tricks that seem most impressive but are in truth little more than illusion. They have no dire powers at their beck and call."

The "cleric" of the Lorekeeper steps forward, and proclaims, "Long have I sat in prayer, and used the gifts of He Who Is Wisdom, to learn the nature of what approaches. And I say to you, Sir Pval has spoken aright. A small band of orcs will attempt a raid upon Waymeet in two days, just as full dark comes. It will be a trifling matter to prepare for, and deal with, this... annoyance, for it cannot even be called a threat." He looks now squarely at Marrik..."Many dark spells of deception have they woven, to mislead us....cunningly crafted, most beleivable....but Serloth's gifts have let me discern the truth behind it. Through no intent of their own, some have indeed been taken in by this, and good intentions and noble heartts have been leading to incitement of fear and panic."