[Game Thread] Far and Wide

[Rasgorn]

Saya took another sip of her soup. The best thing she could say about the mix of boiled cabbage, turnips and onions was that it was hot. And that was what counted. After spending the last three weeks hiding in brambles and thickets, getting pelted by hail and soaked by sleet and rain while dodging patrols and groups of the Knights of the Lion searching for them, this chance to relax and rest in a warm dry Inn was more than welcome. Pat had made sense too, as the halfling usually did when he pointed out they were now only a day from Manse and had two days to spare before they had to meet the priestess of St. Silva.

Saya glanced around, noting the place was mostly full except for two tables in the far back, away from the fire and candlelight of the center of the room. She saw many less fortunate merchants sitting back against the wall eating the same soup as herself and Pat. Closer to the main hearth were several Knights, none whom she recognized, two clerics of St. Jordain, and a trio of gem merchants, if one believed there talk, and the gem merchant's guards. Over by the far side of the hearth, four of the Gray Friars sat, quietly talking among themselves and eating fried pork and hot buttered bread. One of the friars in particular catches Saya's notice. He is older, a bit pudgy, with streaks of grey in his hair and beard, and eating with more relish than one would expect in a Franciscan monk. The thing that catches her eye though, is a faded red scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. She can see he mostly listens and eats while the other Friars quietly talk in a slightly agitated fashion about something. Saya and Pat can't quite hear the monks conversation over the other patrons.

It was while Saya was trying to hear the monks, that she noticed the two clerics of St. Jordain also watching the Gray Friars with more than a bit of interest. One of the clerics turns and stares at her longer than is normal or polite. His look reminds her of another man, one she had killed. One she was certain meant her harm by the items they found him carrying......

Jol ate with relish, this pork and bread were edible enough, but they were far better than the jerked pork and the hard biscuits they had to warm and soften in their armpits that they had been eating for the past week. His three companions were arguing again about whether grace or acts were more important to the Saints. He listened while he ate and perused the room. Jol could smell the fine chablis the Knight's were drinking, it made his mouth pucker and he wished to taste just a sip....

Jol noticed a halfling sitting with a waif of of girl at table on the other side of the room. The two were seated just behind the Knights and near a trio of wealthy merchants. Jol remembers Bishop Aggelson telling him to watch out for such a pair and to aid them if possible. They were carrying messages for Lady Tailtu from Father Arn and like himself and his fellows were to meet with Lady Tailtu outside some town called Manse. Jol continued to eat and watch, not quite sure yet if the girl and the halfling.

[ColorsOfTheHeart]

There were way too many people here for Saya's taste. After weeks of just her and Pat hiding out, the amount of people in the inn had the Warlock on edge. Well, more so than usual that was. With all the bad things she had seen since fleeing from the Duke, she found it hard to let her guard down anymore. She glanced around the room for what felt like the hundredth time. But this time the paranoia paid off. She noticed that the two clerics seemed to far too interested in the Gray Friars. Then, one of the clerics turned on her and stared. The stare lasted far longer than it should have. That look in his eyes was a familiar one. The hairs on the back of Saya's neck started to stand up as her creep alarm was set off. The cleric should count himself lucky that the room was so crowded, or she would have done something right then and there.

With her heart pounding, Saya casually rested an elbow on the table, and put her chin in her hand. Turning her head to look at Pat, she effectively blocked the view of her mouth from the clerics in a manner that was supposed to make her look tired or bored rather than scheming. "Pat." She spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "Something's up, the clerics are setting off my creep alarm. They're way too interested in the Gray Friars. Do we act or let it go?" Acting may mean another night huddled out in the cold. But not doing anything could mean getting four peaceful monks killed.

[Rasgorn]

Pat bit deeply into a piece of black walnut bread and nodded just enough for Saya to know he had heard her, but hopefully not enough for others to notice. Pat dipped his head and then pushed his face into her armpit and let out a soft sobbing noise. A tall, rawboned serving girl came over, concern in her eyes as she placed two pieces of hot pork and apple on Saya's plate, For your wee bairn, he will sleep better on a full stomach. The waitress moved off to other tables and Saya watches a lean limbed man with heavily weathered skin walk over and put down his plate of mash and melted butter. He tips his head to her and then returns to his seat. Saya can see steam rising from his still drying cloak of heavy green wool. Two other men in heavy chain shirts also come over and give her a mug of ale and a cup of cider for her 'wee bairn.'

Pat keeps his head tucked into Saya's armpit as tries not to giggle or reach for the ale too quickly. Saya hears him whisper, We should watch what those 'sainted' priests do. The look of their signia proclaim them followers of St. Jordain who have been at odds a time or two with the Gray Friars. Besides, these kind people seem willing to give us a feast if we wait long enough.

Saya watched the 'creepy' priest of St. Jordain watch her with burgeoning interest until the man in the green cloak came over. The priest's eyes turned hard, contemptuous, and, fearful. The other priest, who had been watching the Gray Friars, particularly the one in the red scarf, turns, glances at her and then whispers to the 'creepy priest,' who then turns his away and whispers back.

[Gibbon]

Jol was trying to keep his focus on the conversation his fellow brethren in the Order of the Grey Friars were having - he was, he was - but his mind kept wandering. Mostly to the food he was eating (Orion's blessings on this place, this pork and buttered bread was a feast compared to their trail rations, and he was grateful for it), but also his mind kept coming back to his work. Sitting in this tavern was not helping. It was busy, and he was not used to the bustle of an inn after his time in the Abbaye de Corbie. This place was very distracting after the quiet solitude of the Abbey. In truth, he was not really sure he was ready for all this yet, this going out in the world to do Orion's work. But the Abbot and then the Bishop had put their faith in him, telling him that it was time for him to leave the confines of the Abbey and find his path with Orion. He was grateful for their trust in him, and he in turn had put his faith in Orion to guide him. Or at least, he was trying to. But he was not really sure how he was supposed to do that. He worried that it should be clear to him, as it seemed to be to the other Friars. But it wasn't. Trust in the Lord, the Abbot had said, and all will come to pass as Orion wills it. But Jol still worried. Suppose Orion sent him a sign and he missed it? After all that the Abbot had done for him, he could not fail him the first time he had been entrusted with a mission of importance. And on top of that, he had just noticed the priests of St Jordain nearby, who he knew were not always on the best terms with the Grey Friars. Orion's teachings spoke of goodwill to all men (and other races, of course) but sometimes even his brothers in the Church could be forgetful of that. He hoped that they would not make a scene.

All in all, he was feeling a little stressed. He fiddled with the scarf at his neck unconsciously as he looked around the room, his glance briefly falling on the two occupants of the table at the other end of the room. And suddenly he wondered if perhaps he worried too much. Surely this was Orion's providence. Could they be the ones the Bishop spoke of? They must be - surely?

"Brothers" he murmured to the monks. "Brothers, do forgive my rudeness for interrupting the conversation. But there is a young lady and a halfling seated over there. Do you remember the Bishop telling us to look out for such a pair? Could they be the ones he meant? Perhaps I will go and introduce myself, if you do not think that unwise."

[ColorsOfTheHeart]

As soon at Pat buried his face in her armpit and started fake sobbing, Saya began to play along. She took on the roll of a concerned mother reaching up to put her hand on Pat's head as if trying to comfort him. She made sure to thank each person as they shared their food with them, filling her voice with as much gratitude as she could muster. Which wasn't hard to do considering the last few weeks. She could use a decent meal or two to regain lost weight, they both could. "See, it's alright love. Look at what these nice people have given us." She said, both to acknowledge what Pat had said and to continue the charade. With her free arm, Saya began dividing up the food that had been so kindly gifted to her and her 'son', giving Pat the bigger share again to keep up appearances. Casually she slid the mug of ale in front of his plate and cider in front of her's, knowing that nobody would bother to check. This wasn't the first time they had done this after all.

The priests were whispering to each other now. She had seen the change in the creepy one's expression when the man with the green cloak had come over. It could have just had something to do with that. But that's not the way Saya thought. Her mind immediately began going to the worst of places and imagining the horrible things that they could do. They could attack the Gray Friars right here and now, they could be working for the Duke and have come to kill her, or worse drag her back to the manor. The thoughts, each worse than the next, kept coming. The Warlock reached for the mug of cider and took a drink from it, taking that moment to force herself to calm down. Panicking in front of this many people wouldn't do them any good. She would just have to wait, like Pat said, and see how things played out.

[Rasgorn]

A halfling, where?said Father Keth as he looked around the room. Are you certain you saw one Jol? I hear they are cunning creatures more agile in limb than wit. Brother Selmo is also looking and clearly not seeing a halfling about. Mattias gives them both an incredulous look and glances at Jol, shaking his head as he says, Yea Jol, you should, if nothing else they could use the comfort of prayer.Mattias raises his mug and tips it in the direction of the Jordanite Priests without ever turning his head or looking in their direction, such innocent folk often attract the wrong kind of attention.

Jol sees what Mattias was mentioning, one of the Jordanite priests had a look on his face that Jol had too often seen before, seeing the eyes of the priest on the young woman brought a surge of memories back to Jol....she was innocent seeming and young and frail....

Saya noticed the Gray Friars becoming more animated and two of them started looking around the room, clearly searching for something they were not finding. The Friar in the red scarf looked a bit alarmed while the Friar sitting across from him was calm and almost sleepy looking as he drank slowly from his mug. The calm Friar had thick black hair and an odd blue-gray coloring to his eyes. Saya got the clear sense he was someone to use caution around, which was an odd feeling to get from a Gray Friar. All the Gray Friars she had met so far had been kind, gentle, scholarly and a bit naive. This dark haired Friar and his friend with the red scarf definitely did not fit with the others she had met.

Saya felt Pat move his head from her armpit and behind her for a moment as he looked around watching their backs before turning back and nestling his head under her breast. She heard him whisper, This feels, unright. I think we have stepped into something, some....those Jordanite priests are or were watching the Gray Friars and now they have become interested in us or you. Stay ready.....

While Saya was looking at the Gray Friars, a fifth Gray Friar sat up, his hair plastered against the side of his face and neck and head, a slim line of drool across his cheek. He blinked several times and then greedily drank from the common pitcher. Saya could tell there was something wrong with him by the awkward nature of his movements, almost zombie like and just as Pat was telling her to stay ready, she felt why. A spell came flowing across the table, clearly directed at her. For a moment her thoughts became muddled.....

Jol was watching the Jordanite priests talk among themselves, knowing they were plotting something concerning the young woman and the halfling when he felt the magic flow across the table for but a moment, then suddenly brother Doran sat up from his heavy slumber, blinking and drooling before grabbing the pitcher of water and drinking like a man dying of thirst.

OOC-Saya SA Will, Jol roll for knowledge of spellcraft to decipher what enchantment he felt.

[Gibbon]

Jol gives a brief nod of thanks to Mattias for his approval of Jol's idea. The cleric of St Bane is the most experienced of all the friars, and although they have travelled together only a short time, Jol is already finding himself seeking Mattias' opinion on a regular basis. But then he hesitates, unsure of his next step. Should he just approach them? he asks himself. They may not appreciate it, a Grey Friar drawing attention to them.

And then the answer presents itself, as he watches first the serving girl and then a man in a green wool cloak approach and then leave the table.

It will probably cost him the rest of his fried pork and bread, the loss of which will be quite a wrench for a man who appreciates his food. But then the Friars are supposed to lead a life of poverty and penance, so this is probably just another of Orion's tests.

He pushes back his chair and is just about to stand up when the enchantment washes across the table. And by Doran's reaction, he felt it too.

"Brother Doran, are you well?" he asks with concern. To the others he mutters "Did you feel that? That was a spell - beware!"

He looks around quickly, seeking the spellcaster...

Dice Spellcraft,Spot:

1d20+4	(5)+4			Total = 9
1d20+3	(5)+3			Total = 8

[Rasgorn]

Saya blinked and then realized she recognized the young waking Friar. He was a friend, someone she knew from a time ago, someone who had helped her out more than once and would surely help her again. He and his companions would most certainly help Saya and Pat if the Jordanite priests troubled them. She felt herself standing up and moving towards her young Friar Friend.

Brother Doran finishes drinking and slurps a few last drops from his mustache, Yes, why yes, do I look ill? I don't think I have a fever, do I look unwell to you Father Jol? Considering we have spent the last week trudging through snow and muck and sleeping beneath the trees it would not be surprising I have taken ill. I must say, I do feel a most powerful thirst. Is there any decent wine in this place?

Jol can tell a spell of enchantment of some kind was cast, but it was a spell without direct compulsion like command, more slight, like a beguilement or a charm. Brother Doran looked better than he did a moment ago, though his movements still seemed sluggish and his eyes seemed to have a dull sheen to them, but then again, in Jol's experience, that was normal. Jol felt certain that Brother Doran was never going to be mistaken for the brightest star in the sky. He was kind and well meaning, but not bright.

Mattias almost stood up, then seated himself and resumed his normal, steady self. He was looking across the Inn's common room with half-lidded eyes and drinking, using his mug to cover and hide his eyes as he searched the room. Jol wasn't sure why he was so calm, what he was waiting for, why he wasn't concerned. Father Keth and Brother Selmo both looked confused and seemed not sure if they should flee the room or prepare for a fight. Watching Mattias steadies them and Father Keth earnestly looks to Jol, What do you mean Jol? A spell, what kind of spell, what should we do about it?

[Gibbon]

"Well, this is a tavern, so I am sure they have wine" says Jol. Although he doubts it would go into the "decent" category. And while he's never actually made any wine, he has brewed much of the monastery's mead over the last two years, so he likes to think he knows a bit about the subject.

"But I should stick to the water if I were you, brother Doran."

He leans in close to Father Keth, sitting beside him. "It was some sort of charm" he murmurs. "I will try to discern more. Keep your wits about you, Father. Look to Brother Mattias for direction, if necessary."

Mattias' calm is both reassuring and worrying. It reminds him of the preternatural calm of a seasoned warrior anticipating battle. And Mattias has fought in battles before, of course, so Jol fears that this is exactly what the cleric of St Bane is expecting.

With the minimum movement of his hand he can get away with, he murmurs a spell to detect sorcery, hoping that his close murmured conversation with Father Keth will obscure his spellcasting and so no one in the tavern will notice. Whoever cast the charm spell in the first place will probably observe him, but he doesn't want to cause a scene with the rest of the patrons.

[ooc: Detect Magic, focussing first on Brother Doran]

[Rasgorn]

Jol can see Mattias watching and slowly sipping his ale, a slight, expectant smile on his face. Doran nods at Jol, I think you are right Jol, I mean Father Jol. I will stick to water.Doran is now growing red with embarrassment over not using Jol's full title. Father Keth is leaning in close, nodding and heeding Jol's advice. Jol can see Father Keth grasp his walking staff and tighten his fist around readying it to use as a cudgel if necessary.

Jol casts his spell and isn't certain what exactly happened but it seems the spell it hit or wafted around Doran and then crossed over to the table and struck the young red-headed woman sitting with the halfling. As far as Jol knew, spells were not supposed to act in such a manner. Maybe Doran wasn't the target, he just sat up at the wrong moment.

Saya stands up and sees at a table across from the Friars her 'friend.' It was not the young, drunken friar at all, but this other man, a dark haired youth with hazel eyes and a slim build. She can see he carries two daggers and laying on the bench next to him is a quiver of arrows and a short bow. He gives her a shy smile and a brief wave, as if he is not sure she wants to greet him after so much time. She sees Pat out of the corner of her eye looking at her, wondering what she was doing. He continues watching her and lays down on the bench, like he is going to sleep, which is what young, well fed children do. She can see him pull his mock flute(blow gun with darts) from his pants and hold it close to his chest as he watches her with some concern. He is letting her make her play and ready to back her up with whatever she is planning.

[ColorsOfTheHeart]

Saya is unsure whether or not she was sucessful in fighting off the spell. Nothing happened, no pain or anything else she expected to follow after a spell. She was about to open her mouth and say something to Pat when a memory sprung into her head. Of the dark haired youth with hazel eyes. When she locked eyes with him, he waved shyly. He was an ally of some kind, someone who had helped her before. She couldn't remember from where though. So many of the Sword Sworn had aided her and Pat in the past, maybe he was one of them? "I'll be right back." She muttered to Pat as she carefully untangled herself from him and rose to her feet. The Jordanite priests were setting off her creep alarm, maybe the youth would be willing to help them again? In a crowded tavern like this, they needed all the allies they could get.

The warlock walked over to his table and took a seat across from him. Still trying to play the part of a worried mother, she glanced back at Pat, who was pretending to be asleep, as keeping an eye on her child. "I know you, right?" She said softly so that only he could hear. "You've helped us in the past. I'm sorry I can't remember your name, but we could use your help again. Something... isn't right about those priests and if something happens we could use all the allies we can get." Saya never spoke this freely to anyone but Pat, but there was something about the youth that made him trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he had helped them before, or some other reason Saya wasn't considering.

[Gibbon]

Jol gives Doran what he hopes is a reassuring smile, albeit a brief one, before he turns his attention back to his spellcasting.

"Brothers" he says quietly, but with urgency. "The spell's source is the table just over there. The young man there is not alone. He has a companion, ensorcelled somehow to conceal him from us. He is sitting right there next to the young man, but we cannot see him. The target of the spell was the young lady with the halfling. Brother Doran was in the path of the spell as it was cast, and it seems to have affected him too in passing."

He watches with a frown as the young woman stands up and walks over to the spellcaster's table. He cannot tell if she was affected by the charm, but by her reaction he suspects she was. Being targeted by a spell does not seem to have concerned her at all. And if she had shaken off the sorcery, wouldn't she be at least a little angry?

"I will go and speak to the halfling, appraise him of what we have learned. Keep an eye out, brothers."

He gives Mattias a meaningful glance and rises from the table, taking his plate of bread and fried pork with him over to where the halfling is sitting.

"Orion's blessings on you, young sir" he says, putting the plate down. Then, more quietly, he adds "Good sir, my apologies, but I fear your companion may be under the influence of a spell cast on behalf of the man she is speaking to. Next to him sits the spellcaster, but he is hidden by another spell. I do not know if they mean your friend harm, but I think this subterfuge does not bode well. My brothers of the Grey Order stand ready to assist, if you require us."

Dice Diplomacy:

1d20+7

(4)+7

Total = 11

[Rasgorn]

When Saya first stands up, the youth frowns with worry, but when he sees Saya walking towards him, his face quickly changes into that shy, welcoming smile from earlier, when he waved at her. He was about to stand up to greet her and then thought better of it. Once Saya sat down, he nodded and smiled,Yes, and yes, I am Gannis. When I was outside I overheard those priests talking about a red headed witch and then I came inside and saw you and saw the one watching you with those greedy like eyes. The man gives me the creeps and he is not even looking at me. How is your boy? I hope he is well. If I can help, I will do what I can, but I tell you up front I am not sure what I could do against priests. I generally keep low to the ground and out of the way. I don't care to be noticed, if you know what I mean. I have a room up on the second floor, 2C, that's paid up for the next two days.

Mattias casually glances over at the table where the young girl just sat down, then turns his attention back to the Jordanite priests and then back to his mug, which he lifts to his lips and mimics drinking while whispering to Jol,One of those priests is a member of the Pentacle, a mage in cleric's robes. They deal with 'matters arcane,' for the Holy Father. I have yet to meet one that proved trustworthy. He then takes a deep drink before putting down his mug and saying,Careful Jol, try not to act too quickly before we step in, let see what other players may reveal themselves and their possible motives. Patience is a hunter's virtue.

Jol makes his way to where the halfling is pretending to sleep and then sits next to him. The halfling lifts his eyes to look Jol over but doesn't move any other part of his body. Jol sits down and the halfling whispers, Have we met before? You look familiar. I know of your friend Mattias from the Marne Valley. We both served under Sir Alexandre Godarte during the River Campaign. Have patience, my friend is capable and I am letting her make her play, discover more, and then I will aid if and when necessary. What you say about this 'charm,' is troubling.He then sits up, yawning and taking a piece of pork and eating and speaking perfectly at the same time, Do you know aught of the Jordanite priests that watch her as well? I hope they are not here to take her for the dragon nonsense. You know the stories about the Dragon of Falcon's Point requiring red haired maiden's as sacrifice...Do you have any other companions with you?

Saya can smell the hot cider that Gannis is drinking, it smells delicious. She can tell he has soft hands, not roughened and wrinkled like hers or calloused and smooth like Pat's. However he makes his coin, he doesn't work with his hands. Saya doesn't have to look to know the Jordanite priest is looking at her again. She can feel him staring at her, feel his want....

OOC-Saya roll for Wisdom

[Gibbon]

Jol shakes his head in response to the halfling's first question.

"I don't think we have met before, good sir. There are just the four of us, as you can see. I am glad you know Brother Matthias. Do you know Father Arn, also?"

In answer to the question about Jordanite priests, he shrugs.

"Brother Mattias does not trust them. He says they are mages in cleric's robes. I can understand his reservations, but they are men of the cloth just like we Friars. It is true that sometimes there can be a little friction between us, but we are all of the Church of the West. We are all doing Orion's good work. I am sure they mean to make no trouble. They would certainly not participate in any..."

...sacrificial ritual...

Jol's face twists into a rictus of pain as he realises what he was about to say. He pushes the thoughts away as quickly as they arrived, composing himself. He stands up abruptly.

"Forgive me, sir. Patience, just as you say. Please, enjoy the food. The fried pork is particularly good."

He heads back over to the friars' table and sits down heavily. The troubled look in his eyes is easy to see.

"I have advised the halfling of the spell his companion may be under. He counsels patience, just as you do, Brother Mattias. And he claims to know you. He says you both served under Sir Alexandre Godart in the river campaign. Is he not the one they call the Elfspear?"

[Rasgorn]

Saya feels the eyes of the Jordanite priest and then something else, a sensation wisping across her skin like someone touching it with a feather. A spell, someone cast a spell. She feels it move over her, hover for a moment and then passes. She feels certain the spell didn't hurt her, it was more scrying like, looking for information more than anything else. She also knows it didn't come from the Jordanite priest watching her, one of his companions though could have cast it, particularly the one next to him staring into his cup.

Jol returns to his table. The other friars are nervously looking about and seem quite uncertain what they should do next. All but Mattias, who continues to speak quietly and confidently to the rest, keeping them calm. it is not until Jol mentions the halfling knowing Mattias from the Marne that his fellow brother hesitates and looks directly at him,Many of us served under Sir Godarte along the "Bloody Marne," but not all were worthy of doing so. Did this halfling give you his name? Could you tell if he was just using names he may have heard in a tavern or some roadside chat with other pilgrims and travelers? It surprises me he would say that here in Flanders. Admitting to knowing someone or having served yourself under Sir Godarte could you get imprisoned or killed her in Flanders. Lord Phillip is no friend to Sir Godarte or his Lord, Duke Trevante. And yes, Sir Alexandre Godarte is called "The Elf Spear."Mattias smiles, knowing that he has Jol's curious attention.