Hear Ye! Hear Ye! - Dire news about Vesper

[Jupiter]

I, Jupiter, shall lend my staff and powers of magic in aid of the race of men. I will also call into service the skills of some of the greatest masters in this realm to assist! I shall be traveling across the land in search of the Witch Amalthia and the Dragon Master HiccupHorrendous. If any of you happen across these individuals, deliver them this message: "Jupiter of the Grey Order compels you to honor your oaths to the arcane and give aid in this dire hour..." (make sure you trail off the end of your speech for effect. It might also help if you run up waving a sword or knife as you approach them so they know it's urgent!)

[Theograd]

It's hard to keep my hammer hung on the wall in times like these. The anvils in Vesper's Ironworks will ring as long as my arm has strength. Fresh blades and patchwork repair to anyone in support of Vesper that night.

[Pirul]

Theograd, I am sure your weapons and repairs will be most welcome by the fearless warriors who'll defend Vesper on Sunday.

And let there be no doubt, we shall prevail!!

[Vhyx]

Hmm, whats a Pirate to do in a situation like this?

I came to the aid of the URK in times past, but that doesn't mean I have any loyalty to them. As an opportunist, I don't know if there's much for me to gain. What cares do I have if a law abiding town gets crushed?

I considered picketing the sea lanes to Vesper, but upon further thought... meh.

[Lagrath]

For once, even the dead in Ravenfel were quiet.

Anyone foolish enough to stand in the middle of town at night would have instinctively gazed up at the tall black spire dominating the city center, a grim monolith piercing the area like a dark spike driven into a rotting heart…perhaps ironic, considering the resident. Had our imaginary visitor managed the fortitude to stay and continue observing the inhuman spire of stone and malice, he would have noticed that only one single room, high atop the tower, was occupied with any light visible from the windows.

At the very end of the long library, Lagrath sat in his favorite chair, looking for all appearances utterly bored. He slouched deeply to one side in his brown-and red throne, resting his head against his left hand, an armored palm that went tap-tap-tap with a single finger against the side of his temple. He held the right arm far away from himself, bouncing in a v-shape off the armrest to slowly twirl an ebon chalice around in the air in the other hand. In truth, he was deep in concentration and set in his brooding, as was so common with creatures for whom isolation was the only consistent companion over the years.



He continued to stare at the large, elaborate map of Britannia laid out on the table in front of him. A seemingly-random mosaic of pins, figurines, and handwritten notes crisscrossed the world in a chaotic scene straight out of a cartographer’s nightmare. Lagrath’s eyes were locked with single-minded obsession on just one spot on the map, near the center. Despite the man’s relaxed body language, anyone around to watch would have instantly noticed the way two deep red eyes practically bore a hole in the spot marked ‘Vesper.’

Those insufferable liches had better have the spell ready in time for tomorrow. So much complaining about “Not enough time”, “Need more sacrifices”, “Too short notice”….pah. It’s all “Ancient keepers of the most terrible secrets” this, “Wielders of the darkest sorceries” that, until they actually have to be useful for something. Toothless wheezing fools, the whole lot.

The finger stopped for a moment, tensed, and then resuming its rhythmic tap-tap-tapping.

Hopefully we won’t have to fight our own kind in the graveyard tomorrow…at least, not unintentionally. With any luck, the humans, the orcs, and that damn bony elephant will all end up killing one another. The last one will probably need some help. Maybe I’ll send some lightning into Darkmoor’s back when he least expects it…No…probably wouldn’t do any good. The bastard is practically impervious to steel, magic, and humor of any sort. He’d probably retaliate with another lecture, and then the rest of us would be so bored stuck in that cemetery with him that we’d be wanting to die a second time.

Tap-tap-tap.

Suddenly he smiled, and rows of teeth like those of a Nujel'm shark reflected softly in the torchlight. Doesn’t matter. At least I finally get to dust off the old halberd and bury it in some heads again. I’ve been away from Britannia from far too long, cooped up with books and plots. Every once in a while you need to just get out of the house and burnish up on your social skills. Travel the world, meet interesting people, and then kill them.

Lagrath stopped swirling the chalice and held it in the air above the map. Slowly, slowly, he tilted it…until a single red drop slipped forth to splatter directly on the spot marked ‘Vesper’, like a crimson rain sent down from the Gods.

“Sunday, bloody Sunday…”

[OneEyedJack]

*Cackles*

Those foolish mortals will be too busy fighting amongst themselves to notice where the real danger is mustering... When the dust settles, we shal have our revenge!

Forrr the Guarrrdiannn...!!!