The Nightingale, Act III: The Silence of the Lambs

[Le Noir Faineant]

A bleak morning dawns in Darkon.



Four dead, and probably half of the villagers, and of the village animals robbed of their voice.

The patrol, missing.

The messengers, missing.


Two of your friends, slain.



The entourage of the royal legate arrives on the market square at dawn.

One man, with fair hair and cold eyes. Six hooded blackcloaks as his entourage.

And a man, a real wizard, maybe holding a girl in a stained dress on a leash, like a dog.

Even from afar, you can see that the girl is blind.



Because she has no eyes.


Explain what you did during the night.
Feel free to be creative.

[Trike]

Nicodemus watched his companions closely during the night. Wherever they searched during the night, he picked up bits and items - collecting anything he thought might be important. At times, he made drawings of key scenes.

When the group stopped for any length of time, Nicodemus looked through these items hoping to find some kind of pattern to this madness, some weakness in their unknown opponent. A glance over his shoulder shows a simple picture of all of the major players in the night's events with scribbled notes in Mordentish.

In the morning, his aspect is weary and tired. But his eyes are still active, searching for an escape for the living from this deadly threat.

He watches the arrival of this new entourage warily. Nicodemus has a hard time believing in coincidence!

[VAN]

Boiros goes to search for the 2 messangers. Once he finds them hanged he cuts the rope and gently puts them at the ground, closes their eyes and makes a pray for them. Then with the help with of the others gets them where they have found Varian and Xvaril so they can burry them alltogether. Boiros let Ammanas do the ritual and doesn't get involved on it unless Ammanas asks him to. He doesn't want to disrespect the cleric which might be of a different deity but has saved his life only couple hours ago. When the funeral is over he tries to get some sleep. He has nightmares though, flames all over the place, strange figures laughing and taunting him, abysmal voices, cries of help and of course the images of the Varian and Xvaril and the 2 messangers.

Next morning Boiros gets up at the dawn to pray to Ezra for his spells. But he also prays for all the souls that have been taken the day before as long as to find a solution and for Ezra to guide him and the others to find the responsible for all that.

When he sees the newcomers he cannot help frawn at the little girl with the leash, even if she has no eyes treat someone like that is cruel and not right for the cleric. But for now Boiros remains quiet and just tries to evesdrop and learn what they are looking for.

[Zilfer]

First, Ammanas will pray at midnight for spells if possible, regardless of what he's doing, he'll drop what he's doing to give prayers during the 'holy hour.'

Then Ammanas helps cut down the other bodies and does the same ritual to ward them from the grey realm. He frowns a bit when the other cleric prays for him, but he knows his faith is stronger. His night is spent exhausting himself between the four people’s burial rites, as well as finding a shovel to dig graves. He accepts Boiros' help in digging the graves but not much else. While digging the graves he tries to drown out the tedious repetition throughout the night, by thinking of how he might combat this situation. The main problem is the force seemed external and there was no tangible object, person, or creature to really assault. He could yell at the voice to the till he was as grey as the realm of the dead but he doubted that would help the situation.

When the sun rose he would plant the shovel to mark the graves, and take another rest from digging to which he had lost count how many times he had taken a breather. ‘Another four people claimed by the Grey realm…’ thought Ammanas not daring to finish that thought. He stood up walking over to get his scythe from leaning on a nearby tree, when the newcomer’s came riding into town. ‘Most curious… those we sent out of town never made it back, but new arrivals come at the morning rise… Well maybe they saw our messengers or passed the word to them as they continued out of town.’

Without hesitation he walks forward to meet him, though exhausted and cold from sweat. He tries to maintain an official demeanor. He stops before the one he thinks might lead this party, and announces himself before asking anything of them.

“I am Ammanas Nom, Priest of the Eternal Order. I bid you warning that something foul has polluted this village and the surrounding forest. You didn’t happen to perchance see the messengers that were sent out yesterday? They were riding to get help, though against what... I must say, most of us are at a loss,” said Ammanas trying to judge just who and why these people were here. “I’ve yet to see the Mayor up this morning, but I’m sure he extends his welcome. Now may I ask, what brings you to these parts, and…”

Ammanas’ gaze falls to the girl with no eyes. He holds the gaze for a few moments before turning back to who he thinks is the leader again. “Who or… what is she?” asked Ammanas suspiciously. He didn’t trust these people yet, nor did he like their motley appearance. He wondered if that girl was a witch, and just what was someone so clearly dressed as a wizard doing here?

[ewancummins]

A tall man wearing gray plate armor and a black cloak tramps along just behind the mounted Legate, a huge axe of black iron and dark-stained wood gripped leaning on his right shoulder.
His hood hides his face from view.

[steveflam]

One of the hooded black cloaks moves slightly, but says nothing. Blue eyes peer from beneath the hood, but nothing else is seen.

The figure turns back from its place and whispers something to the rider in gray plate.

VIEW CONTENT:

"What do you think happened here?"

[ewancummins]

One of the hooded black cloaks moves slightly, but says nothing. Blue eyes peer from beneath the hood, but nothing else is seen.

The figure turns back from its place and whispers something to the rider in gray plate.

VIEW CONTENT:

"What do you think happened here?"

VIEW CONTENT:

''Trouble. The Legate will direct us.''

[steveflam]

VIEW CONTENT:

"Yeah, I figured as much. Wonder what we're doing in a backwater place like this?"

[ewancummins]

The axe-bearer offers no reply, but walks on where the Legate leads.

[steveflam]

The figure follows the plate attired man. Eyes look around, darting here and there, observing as much as they can.

[kintire]

Caitlin spends the night sticking close to the others and looking nervously around. She seems a little unsettled by Nicodemus' close regard, but slighty reassured at the same time. With the dawn she relaxes a little, though the revelation of all the departures leaves her shocked.

On observing the arrival of the legate she drops a deep curtsey, eyes lowered, speaking only if spoken to

[Le Noir Faineant]

When the group stopped for any length of time, Nicodemus looked through these items hoping to find some kind of pattern to this madness, some weakness in their unknown opponent. A glance over his shoulder shows a simple picture of all of the major players in the night's events with scribbled notes in Mordentish.

It's discomforting for Nikodemus to go through the belongings of his companions, to say the least.

But this, and other, closer investigations he undertakes bring no results. Whatsoever.

Four people hanged. Random people with no individual treat that was interesting to the killer. People with no faces... Like in the painting.

...Could the killer not care who his victims are?




On the village's market square, the Legate summons the people that survived the night.

And the surviving outsiders.


A prayer is held together, in the name of those claimed by the murders.

Then, without further ceremony, the Legate sits down on a small wooden stool - a small, backless throne his entourage has carried with them.

The sign that a day of public judgment has begun.

His legate staff over his knees, the man in black puts a finger over his pale lips.

When Ammanas has made his introduction, he exchanges a look with the village mayor.

"Is this the man you reported to me?" - The first words the Legate has uttered at all. During the prayer, he had prayed silent.

The mayor nods.

"So be it, then."

The Legate gesticulates towards his men, to nobody in particular, but in Otto's and the Elven woman's general direction.



"BIND HIM."

[steveflam]

The figure cloaked and mostly hidden moves forward, rope already in hand. Her other hand rests near her hip, a dgger hilt poking out. Looking at Otto, eyes are smiling, almost maliciously it seems.

Unfurling the rope, now she is at the man. "Don't move, sir."

[Zilfer]

When daily prayers were said he would voice the normal prayer vocally amongst the people, saying the names of each of the departed or the one's he had been able to identify. However when it comes to people moving to tie him up his manner changes quite considerably.

Ammanas takes a step back and places both hands on his scythe as a warning sign not to approach him without due cause. "On who's authority do you attempt to bind a Sentinel of the Eternal Order, who's command of Mirae(Divine magic) holds back the Grey Realm?" asked Ammanas as he publicly shows his power infusing his scythe with holy energy, so there can be no doubt makes sure his holy symbol can be seen.

"Don't come any closer before he answers," warned Ammanas in a defensive stance to the person approaching. It was clear he wasn't going to be taken without at least some form of explanation. "What charges?"

[Trike]

Nicodemus had stayed close. He bowed his head with respect as the town said their prayers for the dead, his hands resting atop his cane.

But he seems to tense as the potential for a fight builds. But he has taken no aggressive action yet. He is standing within thirty feet of Ammanas. His stance is passive. When the black-cloaked warriors head towards their quarry, he looks quickly at his companions as if trying to gauge their intentions.