65th of Summer, 522 AV
There had been much to think about over the course of the summer. Strange events starting with the sickness that swept through the tent city, decimating its residents. It was now a pale shadow of what it once was which hadn’t been pretty to begin with. Most of the tents were consumed in a cook fire that quickly grew out of control with no one left to attend to it. The camp ground was still scorched black in large swaths, and the handful of tents that remained were covered in a filmy, black dust.
Slowly, the area was repopulating, but there was no longer enough there to sustain those that returned, few though they may be. Most of those who managed to survive the sickness were later claimed by the slavers that used the fire as a cover for their raids into the tent city. Only those who’d managed to slip into the old mining tunnels before everything went to shite managed to survive the night with their freedom intact, though most of them might have wished they hadn’t when they returned to find all of their belongings either burnt or stolen. Broken at the sight of their former refuge burned to the ground, their wails could be heard throughout the city for several days afterward.
Eventually a good chunk of people drifted away from the sight with nothing left to hold them there. As the people that remained adjusted to the new normal, they started looking for answers, and most focused on the strange outsiders that were seen tending to the sick before the fires broke out. Knights, it was rumored, and not the ex kind either. Some even speculated they hadn’t been there to help at all. It wasn’t a hard line to draw. Most harbored a healthy suspicion of the outsiders to begin with, and the fact that they were knights certainly didn’t help their reputation in the slightest.
Of course the gangs were happy enough to feed these rumors, and pin the missing rats off on them as well. After all it took attention off of their activities for the time being. It also shifted the blame for what happened on these mysterious others because they knew keenly well the wrath of a riled up mob. So they inflated these rumors, and weaved in a few of their own outlandish ones. The knights had been feeding the wolves, or that there was a sorceress amongst the knights that poisoned the water around the tent city. That last one accidentally created a sort of unintentional panic in the city for a few days as people became concerned about drawing from the river but the gangs didn’t fail to capitalize on this as well, offering ‘purified’ water sources at a ‘bargain’ price. As a result of all these rumors running amok, an uneasy tension settled over the city as people waited to see what would happen next, if anything.
For Bronwen, aside from a bit of excitement at the beginning of the season, things had been painfully quiet. There was still no word from Matrim or any others that had been in his company. However what was perhaps more distressing than even that was the fact that Ves had gone missing. Of course Bronwen had gone back to look for her but when she eventually did find that safe house she found it empty without a single sign of what had happened or a note to let her know where Ves had gone. It was hard going, but the lack of information forthcoming forced Bronwen to more or less accept her lot and get on with her life at Bregas all while holding out hope that one day she would hear from any of them. Then one day Bronwen heard a rumor that a friend of hers had been seen over at the Pig’s Foot Tavern. Recently even. Coming from Hadrian this rumor was as good as a gold rimmed miza in ones pocket, and naturally Bronwen wanted to head right over. She didn’t even need to cross the river so the going was quick.
While it was still early afternoon, the place was practically bustling with activity, forcing Bronwen to squeeze halfway through until gradually she found herself in a narrow, open space near the bar. There was a rough looking older man behind the bar currently busy servicing customers but when he noticed her out of the corner of his eye, he asked what she’ll be having, a request he quickly fulfilled.
This man was an observant sort, and couldn’t help but to notice that she looked a lot like a girl he was supposed to be looking for though he stayed glancing at Bronwen for several chimes before he eventually made up his mind. It helped that Bronwen had walked in seeming more intent on the crowd that she was getting a drink, and the description he’d been left was rather spot on. He cleared his throat, rapping on the bar to try and get her attention and when that didn’t work he reached over to tap her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me miss. You wouldn’t happen to be Bronwen?” He asked, already reaching behind the bar for something he’d kept stashed for just such an occasion. “A fiery lass left these for you.” In his hands was a thin piece of folded up parchment and a white kitten that had grown considerably since she last saw it. Precious mewed at her in recognition, practically fighting to get out of the man’s grasp until it was safely in Bronwen’s grasp. The piece of parchment was a note with words scrawled across the top. “For Bronwen, love Ves.”
As she unfolded the piece of parchment, a small paper sachet almost fell out although Bronwen was just able to catch it before it did so. If she opened it she would find that it was filled with a familiar light blue powder that looked a lot like Blike. Inside the unfolded piece of parchment paper was a short note, left in a hastily scrawled script.
“I’m sorry I’ve been absent… After what happened I tried seeking out your father but he rejected me. I took that hard, and I made some pretty foolish decisions. I don’t know really how to say this but by the time you read this I’ll be gone. I’ve signed on with some privateers and we’re leaving any moment now. I want to get out of this city. There is nothing left for me here, but I know you’ll never leave, not with your sister potentially so close and I understand that, but I also hope you understand I need to get out of this city for a while. I will be back. Eventually… I hope you are here when I return.”
The note abruptly ended there, but before she could ask the older man behind the bar a question something large, and brown skittered across her feet. Looking down she caught a glance of brown rat disappearing into the crowd, followed by several others as people started shouting, screaming and everything in between. People started tripping over one another in an attempt to get away from the swarming rats, and pretty soon Bronwen found herself pushed along by the wave of people that clambered for the tavern doors. The older man was barking something out at the crowd but his words were lost in the tumult as there was a loud popping sound and a whoosh of heat from behind as flames began to engulf the back wall.
There was a brief eerily stillness in the crowd as they all looked back to see what had started the fire, then before their eyes there was another pop that reverberated through the tavern as a fresh gout of flame leapt up from the floor to scorch the thatch ceiling. People were practically stampeding to get out of the tavern now, and Bronwen was fortunate enough to be near the front of the crowd so she was able to move out more or less of her own volition as people surged through the narrow doorway. Before she knew it, Bronwen was back onto the street, fighting to get free of the crowd and eventually finding a place across from the tavern where she wouldn’t be jostled by panicked patrons. There she watched the tavern burning with the rest of the crowd as the screams started from within.
Smoke filled the street in a light gray haze as people shouted for buckets, managing to get a few of the crowd to respond but not nearly enough to contain the blaze. Someone tapped Bronwen on the shoulder, urging her to help bring water to keep the blaze from spreading before disappearing into the mass of people milling about. Before them the tavern was now a pillar of flame, reflecting off of all their faces as slowly the building collapsed in on itself.
Slowly, the area was repopulating, but there was no longer enough there to sustain those that returned, few though they may be. Most of those who managed to survive the sickness were later claimed by the slavers that used the fire as a cover for their raids into the tent city. Only those who’d managed to slip into the old mining tunnels before everything went to shite managed to survive the night with their freedom intact, though most of them might have wished they hadn’t when they returned to find all of their belongings either burnt or stolen. Broken at the sight of their former refuge burned to the ground, their wails could be heard throughout the city for several days afterward.
Eventually a good chunk of people drifted away from the sight with nothing left to hold them there. As the people that remained adjusted to the new normal, they started looking for answers, and most focused on the strange outsiders that were seen tending to the sick before the fires broke out. Knights, it was rumored, and not the ex kind either. Some even speculated they hadn’t been there to help at all. It wasn’t a hard line to draw. Most harbored a healthy suspicion of the outsiders to begin with, and the fact that they were knights certainly didn’t help their reputation in the slightest.
Of course the gangs were happy enough to feed these rumors, and pin the missing rats off on them as well. After all it took attention off of their activities for the time being. It also shifted the blame for what happened on these mysterious others because they knew keenly well the wrath of a riled up mob. So they inflated these rumors, and weaved in a few of their own outlandish ones. The knights had been feeding the wolves, or that there was a sorceress amongst the knights that poisoned the water around the tent city. That last one accidentally created a sort of unintentional panic in the city for a few days as people became concerned about drawing from the river but the gangs didn’t fail to capitalize on this as well, offering ‘purified’ water sources at a ‘bargain’ price. As a result of all these rumors running amok, an uneasy tension settled over the city as people waited to see what would happen next, if anything.
For Bronwen, aside from a bit of excitement at the beginning of the season, things had been painfully quiet. There was still no word from Matrim or any others that had been in his company. However what was perhaps more distressing than even that was the fact that Ves had gone missing. Of course Bronwen had gone back to look for her but when she eventually did find that safe house she found it empty without a single sign of what had happened or a note to let her know where Ves had gone. It was hard going, but the lack of information forthcoming forced Bronwen to more or less accept her lot and get on with her life at Bregas all while holding out hope that one day she would hear from any of them. Then one day Bronwen heard a rumor that a friend of hers had been seen over at the Pig’s Foot Tavern. Recently even. Coming from Hadrian this rumor was as good as a gold rimmed miza in ones pocket, and naturally Bronwen wanted to head right over. She didn’t even need to cross the river so the going was quick.
While it was still early afternoon, the place was practically bustling with activity, forcing Bronwen to squeeze halfway through until gradually she found herself in a narrow, open space near the bar. There was a rough looking older man behind the bar currently busy servicing customers but when he noticed her out of the corner of his eye, he asked what she’ll be having, a request he quickly fulfilled.
This man was an observant sort, and couldn’t help but to notice that she looked a lot like a girl he was supposed to be looking for though he stayed glancing at Bronwen for several chimes before he eventually made up his mind. It helped that Bronwen had walked in seeming more intent on the crowd that she was getting a drink, and the description he’d been left was rather spot on. He cleared his throat, rapping on the bar to try and get her attention and when that didn’t work he reached over to tap her on the shoulder.
“Excuse me miss. You wouldn’t happen to be Bronwen?” He asked, already reaching behind the bar for something he’d kept stashed for just such an occasion. “A fiery lass left these for you.” In his hands was a thin piece of folded up parchment and a white kitten that had grown considerably since she last saw it. Precious mewed at her in recognition, practically fighting to get out of the man’s grasp until it was safely in Bronwen’s grasp. The piece of parchment was a note with words scrawled across the top. “For Bronwen, love Ves.”
As she unfolded the piece of parchment, a small paper sachet almost fell out although Bronwen was just able to catch it before it did so. If she opened it she would find that it was filled with a familiar light blue powder that looked a lot like Blike. Inside the unfolded piece of parchment paper was a short note, left in a hastily scrawled script.
“I’m sorry I’ve been absent… After what happened I tried seeking out your father but he rejected me. I took that hard, and I made some pretty foolish decisions. I don’t know really how to say this but by the time you read this I’ll be gone. I’ve signed on with some privateers and we’re leaving any moment now. I want to get out of this city. There is nothing left for me here, but I know you’ll never leave, not with your sister potentially so close and I understand that, but I also hope you understand I need to get out of this city for a while. I will be back. Eventually… I hope you are here when I return.”
The note abruptly ended there, but before she could ask the older man behind the bar a question something large, and brown skittered across her feet. Looking down she caught a glance of brown rat disappearing into the crowd, followed by several others as people started shouting, screaming and everything in between. People started tripping over one another in an attempt to get away from the swarming rats, and pretty soon Bronwen found herself pushed along by the wave of people that clambered for the tavern doors. The older man was barking something out at the crowd but his words were lost in the tumult as there was a loud popping sound and a whoosh of heat from behind as flames began to engulf the back wall.
There was a brief eerily stillness in the crowd as they all looked back to see what had started the fire, then before their eyes there was another pop that reverberated through the tavern as a fresh gout of flame leapt up from the floor to scorch the thatch ceiling. People were practically stampeding to get out of the tavern now, and Bronwen was fortunate enough to be near the front of the crowd so she was able to move out more or less of her own volition as people surged through the narrow doorway. Before she knew it, Bronwen was back onto the street, fighting to get free of the crowd and eventually finding a place across from the tavern where she wouldn’t be jostled by panicked patrons. There she watched the tavern burning with the rest of the crowd as the screams started from within.
Smoke filled the street in a light gray haze as people shouted for buckets, managing to get a few of the crowd to respond but not nearly enough to contain the blaze. Someone tapped Bronwen on the shoulder, urging her to help bring water to keep the blaze from spreading before disappearing into the mass of people milling about. Before them the tavern was now a pillar of flame, reflecting off of all their faces as slowly the building collapsed in on itself.