[Game Thread] The Dark Colony

[Stormhammer]

Last night, a small crowd had congregated in the streets of Cannich, shouting and pointing towards the cemetery. The assembled group could see a lantern making its way towards town before stopping and going out. The brave townspeople stood their ground, awaiting the arrival of the lantern-bearer, but were treated only to the nocturnal sounds of the forest. Eventually fear took root and the crowd dispersed. The townspeople bolted their doors and prayed over their Bibles. The next morning those same townspeople congregated at the town hall...



Mayor Howsham cleared his throat. It was commanding, authoritative. The townspeople immediately ceased their uproarious banter. Gossip was already spreading like fire, threatening to reduce Cannich to embers. And Howsham was willing to watch all of their years of hardship and turmoil go up in flames if it meant capturing a witch! Clutching a Bible in his hands, Howsham gave a nod to the Magistrate, a man he considered to be his only equal in the town of Cannich.

“Good folk of Cannich! By now you are all aware that the evil that has befallen Salem and Ipswich has also reached our humble community. I have failed in my sacred task to keep our town safe from the agents of Satan! The only respite we now have is our faith in the Lord. The only course of action we now have is to purge this witch from our presence! I have appointed the Magistrate to be in charge of investigating this matter and bringing it to a quick resolution. He has many years of experience and will do exemplary! I can only ask that all of you do everything in your power to assist the Magistrate. Keep an eye out for any unholy behavior in your neighbors. Keep an eye on the woods and the cemetery! Magistrate, do you have anything that you would like to add?”

OOC Everyone starts off at the town hall. Once the Magistrate [Anael] has added whatever he would like to say, everyone is dismissed and turned upon the town of Cannich! The game will be afoot!

[hallstadt]

Rory shook his head, annoyed with the panic, fear, and fervor that hung so thick in the Town Hall that he could almost smell it. Sanctimonious Protestants--and reaction by sanctimonious Catholics--had done much to ruin his life back in Ireland. These folk--whatever brand of God they followed--didn't seem much better.

The odd lantern some folks had seen the night before was probably just some trick of the light, or the product of an overactive imagination, and already they were building it up into a stake on which to burn those as they thought deserved to burn.

Still, he knew he'd damn well better show up and act like a god fearing man or else he'd likely be burned or drowned like the poor bastards he'd heard about in Salem. The best he could wish for was that this meeting would conclude quickly and that the magistrate would be a sensible man, that not too many innocents would be harrassed (or even put to death) because they behaved strangely or weren't popular with the right folk in the township. He'd seen that sort of thing back in Ireland, too, more than he'd cared to see and more than enough to last him a life time.

Once this shite was out of the way, he'd need a nice strong drink, he decided, and leaned back in his chair.

[Carmac]

Richard sat in one of the chairs at the back, keeping away from the majority of the populace.

His face had a wry smile plastered over it. Anyone looking at him would have thought him a curious sight. His clothes, once fine, had become tattered and worn, the very image of a man who once held the world in his hands but which had fallen by the wayside.

Putting his hand in his pocket, he withdrew a coin and twirled it between his fingers. Depositing it back in his jacket pocket with a flourish, the smile twisted for a second into a grimace.

A reminder of better times eh Richard?

In some ways the world had passed him by. He was once rich, once at the forefront of society before his own cursed stupidity, and his emotions had put paid to all of it.

Still, although he bore this town little love, he had no wish to be set on fire by these superstitious minded simpletons. So he smiled with the rest of them and nodded his head in the appropriate places.

In actual fact he had been to the cemetary earlier in the day, visiting the graves of loved ones now gone. But, better they don't know that. Better he did not give them reason to string him up and hang him like a dog.

So, leaning casually back in his seat, he touched his hand casually to the shape concealed in his pocket, its form bringing him no small amount of comfort, and he waited for the magistrate to speak.

And after he was done he would disappear back into the shadows where he belonged.

[Anael]

Leopold rose from his seat and walked toward the podium. His black judges robe swayed with each step. He shook hands with Mayor as they crossed paths. Once at the podium he cleared his throat. Thank you Mayor Howsham. The entire town thanks you for efforts. You should be neither ashamed nor feel like a failure in spite of the current circumstance for truly evil knows no bounds to its chicanery. This good town is being tested and we will show our resolve by settling this matter post haste. The just shall always prevail. he said cordially nodding towards the Mayor. His attention turned towards the townsfolk.

A fine gathering of riff raff if I ever saw one. If it were not for the mayor and few others all hope would be lost for Cannich. Bible thumpers, hooligans and dirty peasants..what a fine lot. Still, justice must be done.

Good and fine people of Cannich this disturbing development may be but a vanguard to the evils that threaten to lay siege to Cannich. Trust in reason and in the highest of powers and be not afraid because we will stand up and say NO! No great evil shall dwell on this soil that we have come to call our home. The darkness uses that which lies deep in our hearts and minds and even now many of you are overcome with fright. Lay those fears to rest! Do not let this event cannibalize our civility and our intellect.

If we run about like hens without heads how can we see the darkness? If we turn upon our brother like Cain and Abel then are we not succumbing to that evil? Calm yourselves and let us set about this in a just and orderly fashion. Goodness travels with us and guides us each step of the way. We must act with due diligence. Firstly, I would like an accounting of everyone's location that evening. You may come to my chambers anytime this morning. This afternoon I will begin a formal investigation to the matters at hand. Look closely for bad luck follows these Witches. If you have any such information let me know immediately.

Civil..this lot? Hardly..Intelligence..laughable. Leopold played the devout religious man but was more concerned with his quest for power than anything else. He fed the people what they wanted to hear.

[Carmac]

As Richard listened to Leopold speaking he sank further and further into his seat. As Leopold asked for an accounting of everyone's location that evening he sank to his lowest.

Oh great. I was in the cemetary earlier on. If I tell him that they'll burn me at the stake. I need to think of something...an excuse or an alibi or anything that'll get me out of this mess.

He stood up and left the room at that, shaking his head.

What another fine mess I've got myself into.

[jessylynn]

Still in the black of her mourning, Mercy stood near the back door with one hand holding onto her little Chastity. The girl squirmed and Mercy squeezed her fingers. "Be still, child." She would have liked to be closer to the Magistrate, but her youngest was fussing in Maggie's arms.

"Maggie, take her home." She said absently, listening to the voices of the others. Their nervousness was near hysteria and the last thing she wished was for the babe to start shrieking and add to the chaos.

As Maggie slips out, Mercy crosses her free arm over her bosom and shudders at the memory of the night past. She'd looked out of her window, listening to the townfolk call out to one another in fearful disbelief, then to God to save them. But nothing had come to save them, only the dim, inevitable dawn. She'd gone for Silas' musket and clutched it till early morn, though she had no real notion of how to use the heavy old thing. She'd held onto it anyway, thinking in alternate fear and rage, you left us, you left us and now we are helpless! before begging God's forgiveness.

As the Magistrate speaks, Mercy trembles. I pray that Silas' grave has not been disturbed. She wishes he were here now, to speak out and calm them. Silas had never been hysterical in his life, Mercy was sure. A voice of reason, my dear departed husband, that they could have used now. God could use him more, I must suppose. A trace of bitterness on her tongue, adding to the metallic taste of fear.

[SeanAbel]

Patrick was roused early in the morning; he only just had back from a trip to bring in fish the day before. After unloading, the boat and cleaning himself the family sat down for dinner, his mother said thanks that he had returned. They ate and all went to an early bed, after hearing how the trip had gone.
The confusion of the events from the night before had spread across the small town like a giant wave over a small boat.
Hastily he put on his clothes and went with this family to learn more of the event from the evening.
Patrick and his family sat as close to the front as they could, his mother always believed in sitting near the front (of everything) not to be noticed but to make sure we were close enough to pay attention. He sat shocked at the talk and gossip that was spreading, when the mayor explained that a “witch” must be in or near town, his mother nearly fainted.
Mrs. Fitzjames told Patty to make sure to go to the magistrates immediately after the “service” and explain that the entire Fitzjames family was at home and in bed, and she told him to offer any help that you can be …oh and find out if your father’s grave is undisturbed. While the crowd starts to disperse, or at least find another place to gossip, Patrick does as his mother told him and heads to the office of the magistrate.
Maybe it was just a someone heading down the road at night and became spooked when they heard the towns people ahead of them waiting and instead they decided to hide or something simple?

[copatt]

Though weighed down by the fussy child in her arms, Maggie, nevertheless, was deeply interested in the events of the town meeting. Hush, Prudence, be still, she said softly into the child's ear, patting her on the back. Maggie normally thought of the girl simply as Pru, but she was careful not to use the diminutive of the girl's name in her mother's presence; Mercy, Mrs. Spurstowe, abhored it, at least she seemed to.

Maggie craned her neck, rocked up on the tips of her bare toes, straining to see and hear more of the procedings. A witch, here in Cannich? Unbelieveable. I mean, clearly, servants of evil can be found anywhere-- but here? Nothing exciting ever happens here. It's always, 'Maggie, feed the animals. Maggie, go collect eggs, milk the cows. Maggie, the garden needs tended, the house needs cleaned.' What this poor town needs is a witch-- if only to shake things up a touch.

Maggie, take her home. Maggie blinked, finally realizing that the last command was not simply in her head. Turning to owner-- how it agonizes me that I have an "owner"-- Maggie nodded her head. Yes ma'am, of course. Would you like for me to take Miss Chastity as well? The question is asked in low, hushed tones, so as to not interrupt the meeting at large.

[jessylynn]

Mercy glances distractedly at the girl. "Yes, yes I suppose that would be the thing to do." She strokes her daughter's hair. "Go with Maggie, dear. I'll be home soon." She has decided to speak to the Magistrate now instead of later.

Mercy smooths her dress and moves forward into the crowd, waiting to see who will go first to swear that they had naught to do with the strange happenings of the night before.

[copatt]

Still clutching Prudence against her, Maggie took Chastity's hand. She hesitated briefly, as though there was something she wanted to ask of her owner, then decided against it. No, Mercy-- Mrs. Spurstowe-- will speak on my behalf. If I'm needed to speak with the magistrate pesonally, she will let me know. I'm not even sure what rights I have in matters such as this.

Maggie and the two children move slowly toward the door. There she hesitates again, hoping she might hear some other bit of interesting gossip. When no such gossip is immediately forthcoming, Maggie steps out into the morning air and makes for home. Come on then Chastity, Pru, let's get home. There's work aplenty there for us. Maggie chuckles softly at herself. Work aplenty for me, more like.

[Stormhammer]

The crowd begins to quickly disperse. Despite the words of the Magistrate, rumors and gossip begin to fly back and forth. As Richard tries to think of an excuse to cover for his recent visit to the cemetery, he notices a few of the townspeople eyeing him suspiciously. It was no secret that the townspeople held resentment towards the recently fallen Thomas family simply because they were now poor. On the other side of the room, Maggie leaves to take the Spurstowe children back home, wondering what the next few days will hold in store for the town of Cannich. Mercy and Patrick both make their way forward in order to speak with the Magistrate, hoping that his inquiries will lack the fervor and zeal of Cotton Mather.

[copatt]

Though the Spurstowe home was on the opposite side of the Cannich Colony from town hall, the walk, aside from the chill wind, was pleasant enough. Maggie had long ago grown accustomed to the extra weight of carrying a child in her arms, and her calloused feet were as sturdy as shoes.

Arriving without incident at her owner's home, Maggie positioned Prudence and Chastity near the garden. She would have liked nothing more than to sit with the children, playing games and teaching them to speak French; but there was work to be done. There was always work to be done. Maggie paced each row of the family garden, pulling and discarding weeds. The children remained, always, in sight.

[hallstadt]

Rory shook his head, resigned to his inevitable interrogation at the hands of the magistrate, which promised to be a royal pain in the arse. He'd spent the night, as usual, in the woods at the edge of town, and--as usual--no one could corroborate his story. The most "wicked" thing he'd done was to take a piss behind a little copse of pine before he passed out, exhausted, on the hard ground upon which he had grown so accustomed to sleeping.

Look at us he thought, feeling disgusted and rather cranky about this recent turn of events, lining up like lambs to the slaughter. He tried not to appear nervous; he had to stop himself more than once from kneading his hands together (a habit he'd developed in childhood and never been able to shake).

But he was nervous. He'd met men like this magistrate before: full of pretty words an practiced civility. Rory suspected that the man had a more vicious, hidden side that would no doubt emerge as the proceedings unfolded. Still, Rory would have to answer to this man--and answer well--or he very well might burn.

As the interrogation went on and day's light darkened into the shadows of the afternoon and Rory prepared himself for his account of his activities the night before he found himself ringing his hands again.

[Stormhammer]

The sun rises to its highest point in the sky, ushering in the beginning of the afternoon. Although its a sunny day, the wind chills to the bone.

[Carmac]

Richard started also to walk towards the magistrates office, although having not yet settled on his story he was fairly confident that he would think of something on the way there.

There were a couple of options he could go for to explain away his absence last night (which definitely WASN'T because he was at the cemetery around the time the lights were seen, no sirree).

So, his options as far as a story were:

1: Drunk. Couldn't remember a thing (unfortunately didn't offer an explanation as to his whereabouts).

2: Got into a fight and had the proverbial seven bells of **** knocked out of him and was unconscious so couldn't have been in the cemetery (he had no marks so that wasn't believable).

Although maybe he could get somebody to beat him up? That was an option.

Richard smiled. That was it! Perfect! A plan with no drawbacks.

He walked up to the first burly-looking man he could see on his way to the magistrates.

Excuse me good sir, this may sound odd but would you be so kind as to beat me up? Hit me right here in the face if you would...