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Adventures in Barsaive

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As you lean in closer towards the body, a slight feeling of foreboding begins to permeate through you. A feeling that does not come from within you, but rather seems to come from the creature itself. As if even the dead carcass continues to carry the very stuff of dread. Looking towards the "Obsidiman", or what was once an Obsidiman, you notice several aspects that are off in one way or another.

The creatures rock like skin seems slightly more rigid and slightly more jagged than normal. The jaw of the creature full of pointed teeth, not to mention that the mouth itself appears to be jagged and bestial in nature, as if it were warped by some unknown force. Though unknown in and of itself is probably a misnomer, as even in the back of your mind you know that the only thing that could have twisted this creature was the work of a Horror. Though in order for it to be this...changed, it would to have been a rather long process that could have taken years to come to fruition.

Next to the creature on either side rests the otherwise nondescript bodies of some individuals from the town. A man and a Dwarf. Who are difficult to read, considering their current lifelessness, but are otherwise normal in every way.
 
I am still trying to piece together what exactly had happened here. How does that Horror warped Obsidiman figure in with the Lightning Lizards and the dead villagers?

The most straightforward conclusion woud lbe that the villagers died fighting him, so I look for clues to confirm the theory that they inflicted mortal wounds upon each other.

Darn, if a Horror is involved ... I am definitely in no shape to take on one of these yet. Likely not even were I at full health.
 
As you continue to gaze at he bodies, you do indeed come to the conclusion that combat befel these individuals. The Dwarf and Human appear slashed, and stabbed. A strange rock formed weapon lays bent and twisted on the ground. The Obsidiman looks slashed and scarred as well.

Your companions take their own opportunities to take in the bodies. Vidin quickly seems to distract himself with anything else. The Windling seeming to be more than just a little uncomfortable. Lerion on the other hand appears as he usually does. "We might want to head inside? See if we can't get you a little more mended."
 
"Now that is a good plan." I whole heartedly agree, even managing to conjure up a smile in an attempt to chase away some of the dark foreboding of the situation. "Let's see what's in the building."

And so I start to approach the door, hoping that there won't be more scenes of carnage awaiting us.
 
You approach the door, and though it appears to be scratched. Bit, little damage has actually befallen it. Wondering for a moment if there is a good chance that it is locked, you set your hand carefully upon the nob. Turning it ever so carefully you feel the door creak and ever so slowly inch inwards. Opening the door a bit more you expect some form of carnage or chaos. Though are quickly surprised to find... Nothing of the sort. In fact any sign of... Anything are wholly non existent. Gazing around the room as you step inside, there is no sign of anything: no people, no furniture, nothing.
 
"You have an idea what the building might have been used for?" I ask my companions as I take another few tentative steps inside, looking around for any potential telltale details.

In particular I check for further doors that might lead from the first room, and whether the adjacent rooms are equally devoid.
 
(Give me, if you would, a Perception Test)

"It looks as if it was either a very large dwelling for some sort of Elder, or some sort of central gathering and supply hall." Lerion states, the Ork carefully walking around the bare central room.
 
[Perception Step 8:2d6 = 10, or would you rather have a Search check?]

"If someone actually lived here, it should have more funriture." I comment on that. The gathering place suggestion sounds very plausible though. So I idel over to the other exits of the room to finally get a peek beyond.
 
(Nope, just a perception check will do thank you.)

Your eyes wander over the field. Getting much more detail over the space itself. It seems that the central gathering hall theory makes even more sense. Though your eyes do fix upon one area towards the back. You move to get a better view and see that nestled in the very back of the building are a set of stone stairs that lead downwards into some sort of celar. A door seems to be the only thing between the upper floor and the celar itself.
 
"Come over and check this out, you two ..." I inform my comrades as I approach the stairs. Maybe some survivor is hiding downstairs? Or if not, then maybe some supplies are to be had?

Carefully I descend, on the lookout for potential traps. Should I get to the door unharmed, I will try its handle.

[Search Step 10:2d8 = 8, if necessary]
 
As the three of you reach the end of the hall you come upon the stairwell. Though of modest size, it isn't overly intimidating. As you approach the door, trying the handle, it appears locked. The door appears amazingly solid, and every subsequent attempt to make it budge is met with failure.

After a moment of budging there is a strange, yet all too common sound that seems to emenate from behind the obstacle in your path. "G-Get back you creatures! W-W-We..." the male voice appears somewhat frightened, stopping mid sentence as if cowering in fear of something.
 
Darn, mor of those lizards? But how did they make it into the basement?

"Open the door!" I yell, hopefully loud enough to be heard "or we won't be able to help you"

Not waiting for a reaction I turn to Vidin. "Try if you can get the lock open".
 
"You don't s-sound like those Obsidiman... Things... But go away! Leave us alone. Wait... Did you say help?" the voice on the other side of the door states, the voice now filled with a little less fear and a bit more confusion. "W-Who are you? What do you want?" the voice calls out again.

Vidin begin to lightly rustle through his things, searching ever cautiously for his lock picks. "Alright, but I don't want to forcefully open the door, could spook them straight into attacking us. I'll hold off until we either calm them down, or they stop talking to us."
 
"We? We have been sent by the merchent Dorran to check for his misssing couriers." I openly admit, hoping that the name was familiar to those prightened people behind the door. "WE found them, as well... and now we'd like a save little shelter to recover from the fight with those lightning lizards..."
 
"Wait! Dorran Sent you? Oh thank the Passions! Wait.... This isn't a trick of some sort is it?" Several other muffled voices can be heard within the cellar, and after a good moment or so of what can only be muffled conversation between...Whomever is down there, the voice calls out to you once again. "Alright...But we warn you! This better not be a trick!" After the individuals statement you hear the rustling and moving of what can only be furniture. Probably heavy wood, though how they managed to get it down there is a mystery. After a few moments, the door swings open and you are allowed to enter the cellar.

The first individual them comes to greet you is a Dwarf woman of older age. Your not sure exactly how old she is, but the rest of the group (around twenty or so), seem to deffer to her in one manner or another. "You were sent by Dorran yes? Wonderful! Than that means that they did make it! We sent three of our villagers out a few days ago, and they must have brought you with them. Are they with you? Or did they stay behind?"
 
Thankful that the door is finallyopen I step inside before the villagers change their mind. Hopefully the large sword onmy back will stifle and stupid ideas immediately, sicne I am in no real condition to fight.

"Well, the villagers... they did stay behind. And will not come back ... ever." I hate to break the bad news, but there is also no use in holding off with the sad truth any longer.
 
"O...oh! Well..." the Dwarf woman looks solemn at the realization. Seeming to find the only possible meaning behind those words. "Then Darron must have sent for you to see what happened..." the other villagers look more than a little saddend by the news. Most of them huddle up into small groups, many of them start to tear up.

"We were attacked last week by the Brotherhood. They... Have kept attacking, must of the villagers are simple fishermen and shell collectors. Very few of them had seen a sword much less swung one. But you must have fared much better against them I am sure?" The Dwarf woman asks as she pulls the three of you off into a side corner of the cellar.
 
"Well..." I begin as I follow her lead. The desire to not discuss it in front of the full crowd is understandable "So far we have only encountered those Lightning Lizards. And they were bad enough."

As if on cue my injured side sends another ache through me.

"What is this brotherhood you are talking about?"
 
"You have not dealt with them yet? Oh dear. The brotherhood are a group of Obsidimen. What we know is sketchy at best, but there are a few things that we are sure of. These Obsidimen have a life rock not all that far away from here. Their life rock is where an Obsidiman is shaped and comes to life, and then as they pass they return to the life rock... Anyway, supposedly, we theorize, that during the Scourage a Horror of some kind must have infiltrated their defenses and warped their bodies and minds. They are little more than Feral beasts now, solely out to hunt and kill..."

The woman pauses, and looks towards you for an extra moment. " Why... Your hurt! Oh no, the won't do. Heferon, go back into the stores and get a couple of potions will you?"

"But that's our only stock. They are hard to come by and we d-" the man begins before immediately being cut off by the Dwarf woman

"Just do it!" at the woman's earning, the man walks off into a back room bringing with him a bottle in each hand. He hands them off to the Dwarf elder who then gives them to you. "Here take these. You will need all your strength to face the Brotherhood."
 
"Oh thank you ..." I gladly accept the potions, but besides that my emotions are somewhat mixed. The prospect of going up against a ful lgroup of horror tainted Obsidimen - and maybe the horror itselt if it is still residing in that life rock - is a bit daunting, to say the least. Either way, getting back to full health should be first priority.

"Maybe you have a place for us to rest a bit?" I therefore inquire politely. I have seen in the past that I can heal rather fast, given some opportunity for recuperation.
 
"Certainly! It isn't really private but we have a couple of extra cushion lined benches near the back of the cellar. Follow me." the Dwarf woman states before she begins to lead you towards the other side of the cellar. Three heavy wood benches rest against two of the conjoined walls of the surprisingly large cellar. More than obvious now that it was a supply cellar before all this mess started.

The Dwarf woman nods and walks carefully away to go back to the group, leaving the three of you in "peace". You companions carefully sit down onto one of the benches after helping you a bit.

(those healing potions allow you to automatically recover one wound, and you gain +8 to your next recovery test within 24 hours of consumption. If you have no recovery tests left you can make an immediate recovery test by ingesting it, and you make the test with a step of 8 or 2d6)
 
I sit down comfortably, eying the two potions in my hands. I have heard of such draughts before, but this is the first time I will be using one. No reason to hesitate, I pull out the stopper, bring the flask to my lips and swallow the contents down in a few big gulps. I can almost feel the magical content flood through every fibre of my muscles, leaving a soothing mending warmth in its wake, and immediately I feel better.

[Total recovery test step 14: 2d12=18, only 2 damage and no wounds left]

"Wow, that is good stuff!" Again I eye the sole still full potion. Better keep that for another emergency. "But I better rest a bit longer, so I don't undo the potion's effects with overly rash action" And with that I lie down in a comfortable position on one of the benches.
 
You manage to find rest for an hour or so. Though the cellar does not hinder your rest in any way, it is not hard to tell that there is a sense of tension within the air. As if the restlessness of the cooped up villagers has formed an actual breathable fume of some kind. The feeling is not lost on you in the slightest, but surprisingly the villagers do not bother you at all... For the moment.

After an hour or so, a younger human male approaches the three of you cautiously. He seems to be roughly in his late teens. But truth be told its always hard to tell where exactly to pinpoint those in that age category. "So uh, are you going to help us? With the brotherhood I mean." he asks, a small amount of hope lies behind the cynical nature of his words.
 
A whole group of obsidimen. They are not exactly known for their physical frailty, and even if we deal with them there still remains the matter of the likely corrupted life rock. No easy task.

I look at Vidin, then at Lerion, and then back at the young man.

"Why don't you tell us all you know about them? Like, why did they start attacking you now?"
 
The young man hesitates for a moment. Perhaps in thought, perhaps from fear. "I... Well here is what I know. The elders say that before the scourge our town was in friendship with a very small brotherhood of Obsidimen. During the scourge, as they have told me, we made our way to a nearby kear. Whil the Obsidimen went to make preparations with their life rock. Obviously no one knows what happened for sure, but the fro is even smaller now. They are like wild, and destructive animals. Killing for no reason, and eating... Anything they can kill. I hear rumors that they found a small group of our hunters one day in the forest. I suppose they must have followed them here. They are..." tears begin to well within his eyes, before he forces them back for a moment. The young man takes several deep breaths,

"They attacked. There are only a few of them... Perhaps three or so I think. Wha does it matter?! Will you help us?" he states, his tone growing slightly raised and desperate as the words escape from him.
 
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