[Game Thread] Prologue: the Gathering

[Mal Radagast]

Still in the town, though on its edge now, the scattered farms give way abruptly to a tangle of trees. Sauntering along, Alona loses herself a bit to the wooded way...she always feels a certain wild wonder along forest paths and clearings. It's a sharp contrast to the loud and rowdy taverns of her custom, and she finds both settings appeal to her. With half an ear still on the conversation, she catches her name and turns to the growing group to put it in context.

"Yes," she nods to Athkar with a straight face. "I will have to be mose careful...." Her lips twitch a bit, then, and she adds, "...thot ay strong wind doss not blew yew menfolk away." Grinning outright, she taps at Kismet's mithral shoulder...at least the little one is weighted down. "No woreece, though - I will mayke plenty of hunter stew on the road; enough to fill you fellowce ryte out!" She leans over to Kismet with a loud whisper. "The seecret ingredien is a Svalland fudge-cheece - no meat, but rich enough it twill keep ay bear warm for the winter."

Glancing back to the new newcomer as she walks, Alona shrugs. "I don't usually bother otherce' seecrets unless they bother me first...we'll see what we see, I think, about this playce." The path twists ahead, and she points. "It is a short way to the lodge, I whace told, but windy. And I woulden expec to find much of seecrets here; Erastil doss little bother to keep them."

[The Fool]

As they near the chapel, Athkar sees the scowling girl and, as they draw nearer, bows to her with perfect politeness. "Good afternoon," he says, seemingly completely unfazed by her dour manner. "Are you a representative, also? I am the Speaker of Athkar, representing the Order of Tari'qa and a follower of Sarenrae, and these are Kismet, Alona, Isaiah, and Elleria."
He gives her a very faint, placid smile that is completely neutral and utterly unreadable.

[Jondera]

As the group gathers in the street before the chapel, a lean man in brown and green robes comes to the door and glances out. Seeing you all gathered, he bows slightly and says "Welcome; please, come in. I am Father Leif." Gesturing to a door along the side of the sanctuary, he moves back into the chapel slightly, glancing back as though expecting you to follow him.

[The Fool]

Athkar returns the bow to Father Leif. "Good Afternoon, Father. I am The Speaker of Athkar," he says softly as he follows, gliding after the priest. "What do we know so far?"

[Avelestar]

Following The Speaker, Isaiah greets Father Lief with a tip of his hat. "Good day Father, I trust you are keeping well?" Rather than waiting for an answer the archaeologist walks into the building and immediately begins looking around. Not likely to be much in the way of research here, but maybe at the monastery.

[Arion Wind]

Elleria bows politely to Leif, "Thank you for the kind welcome, Father." She steps through the door and waits patiently for further information. As curious as she was, she was used to superiors giving her the information she needed when she needed it, and trusted that this priest would be little different in that regard.

[Ehlana]

"Greetings, Father Lief." Kismet gives a little bow in the oriental fashion. "I am Kismet. Also Trouble." Her lips quirk. "What can you tell us about the task you have called us here for?"

[Mal Radagast]

Entering the lodge, Alona closes her eyes and takes a deep breath of cedar and hickorysmoke, of roasted meats and mushrooms... Tilting her head back, she lets her eyes fall open, smiling her delight at the bright greens and golds woven across the ceiling. This moment is the closest Alona ever comes to an understanding of prayer. Oh, she'll curse in Cayden's name often enough, or toast it, but all that rites and passages stuff isn't her style. Her own little rituals are enough, and she's never heard the gods complain.

The place looks like it smells, full of simple luxuries. Warm furs and sturdy wood serve as furniture, set before a grand hearth. Being a creature of but few graces, Alona clomps across the wooden floor to a tall-backed armchair, giving the good father a hearty clap on the back as she passes. Then she unslings her bow and flops herself onto the chair with a hoof!. Wandering eyes note an end table scattered with bits of unfinished whittling...some sort of game, it looks like. They also note the surly doorkeeper slinking in behind the others. Speaking of whom...

"Trouble iss ryte," Alona grins. "Best being down to bees-ness before they lyte the fyres. We doen want to miss the bobbing for appulce!"

[Jondera]

The priest leads you to a side room in the temple, where a long table is set with seven place settings, and laden with a generous - if simple - meal. Despite this, his expression is grim. "Yes, well. I'm afraid there is little time for merriment or celebration this autumn; Whatever has happened at the monastery worries us here in Eidsdale as well." He glances towards the western wall, almost as though he could see the mountains - and the monastery - through it. "We know very little. They would send a cart down for food and supplies once a week, but those trips stopped just over a month ago. We sent Kelaan's eldest up to ask after them, but the lad never came back, and his parents are worried sick. We told a patrol of guards, who promised to investigate, but they failed to return as well... which is why we called on you." He looks around the room, fixing each of you in turn with a grave expression. "We're all simple folk - farmers, tradesman, and the like. If you don't return with good news... or worse, don't return at all, many will stay here only as long as it takes them to pack as much of the harvest as they can in wagons, then go east to find a new home."

Realizing that he has been lecturing, he shakes his head. "I apologize." Seating himself at the head of the table, he gestures to the other chairs and the food. "Sit; eat. Enough time to worry about your task on the morrow. For now, there is good food, mead, and warm beds. A long night's rest will do you well, in preparation for the climb up the mountain tomorrow."

[Avelestar]

Though disappointed it was a smaller church, with no proper libraries or stores of knowledge, Isaiah hid it well, smiling as he walked to the table. He nibbles at food as the priest talks, mentally noting down everything. Taking another slice of bread and piece of cheese, Isaiah asks the priest a series of questions. "Have there been animal attacks recently, or in the past? What about bandits or goblins? Obviously we will travel all the way to the monastery to be sure, but it might be possible that the problem lies with the journey and not the destination." Whilst he waits for an answer Isaiah picks over the apples on the table, finding the smallest and most bruised one and slipping it into his coat for his horse.

[The Fool]

Athkar listens attentively, walking to the table as he listens to Father Leif recount the story. He picks up a clementine, turning it over in his hands before beginning to peel it slowly, his thumbnail sinking into the fruit's soft skin. The monk seems utterly absorbed in this activity, to the point where it almost seems a meditative exercise. For the moment, he remains silent and blank, though Kismet can tell that he's taking in every word. He does this all the time in the monastery. He would look like he wasn't listening, or his attention is somewhere else completely, and people would think that it means he's not paying attention. They're always wrong.

[Ehlana]

Kismet reaches out and absently steals a clementine "smile" from Athkar. She eats it in two quick bites, looking thoughtful. Isaac's explanations seem too innocent for something that can at the very least block contact with an entire monastery, though his point that there could be danger on the road is certainly well-taken. Best to keep a sharp eye out. "Send Trouble after trouble." She murmurs to herself, grinning faintly despite the seriousness of what the good Father is telling them. "How long has it been since the boy and then the soldiers, they left?" She asks in a louder voice, adding her one question to Isaac's many.

[Arion Wind]

Elleria began eating conservatively then slowed eventually to a stop as she listens to the news of the monastery. The news was worrying to say the least. The guardsmen at lest should have known the value of information and tried to send one of their number back to report. So either they were taken unawares or overwhelmed too fast to do anything about it. Either one spelled bad news for the town. But why call her? She'd already lost one town already, though nobody here was likely to know that. Well, she would just have to not fail this time.

[Jondera]

Lief shakes his head at Isaiah. "No, nothing like that. Out here away from the big cities, we're well used to occasional sick animal or lean year, or a tribe of goblins or kobolds or something, but this doesn't fit any of those... we haven't had any attacks here, or any livestock gone missing, or anything like that. Just everyone that's gone up the road to the monastery has failed to return." He frowns a moment, thinking back. "The last time they sent the cart for supplies was just under a month ago. Young Erik went up to check on them 2 1/2 weeks ago, and the guard patrol followed a week later, 10 days ago or so. It's only about half a day to the monastery, so they should have returned the next day, at the latest, unless something was wrong." He goes quiet for a moment, then blinks a couple times. "Oh yes, I almost forgot... there was another group that went up to the monastery as well, a few days after the last supply cart. I thought they were just another group of monks or something at the time, but now, I'm not so sure. They didn't stop here, just walked through and up the road, but I caught a glimpse of one of their faces from under his hood, and it was... strange. I'm not sure, he looked human, but his eyes were different colors, and his features seemed vaguely different, as though he had traces of blood from other races."

[Avelestar]

Isaiah doesn't frown, or feel like he's been shut down. The man is used to exploring and researching every option, asking questions was in his nature. "Well then, I suppose there isn't much left to say. I'm full of food, in travel weary company and have another journey to make tomorrow. It is time for bed!" After saying his goodbyes the archaeologist would seek out his horse, feed and brush her, then head to bed.