[IC] Aqua Mortis (Session 1)

Six weeks ago, Buzzard’s Ford was wiped from the face of Terrinoth by water. Today, though, you see the flames. From the walls of Cailn Castle, they almost look beautiful. For the inhabitants of the miner’s village just north of the castle, they probably seem like the Ynfernael.

You’ve been living at the castle for about four weeks now. It’s not officially an arrest; more of a strongly expected detainment while the baron works through what happened in Buzzard’s Ford. It hasn’t been so bad; you’ve got comfortable quarters, and besides the miners, the castle has its own little ecosystem—all the offices, barracks, monks, and support staff make it like a small town. But it’s been frustrating, since what should have been a quick review of your case has dragged on; shortly after you arrived at the castle, the baron got called away on diplomatic business to the east. The Baron’s Council, now headed by his son Renash, doesn’t want to hear anything more about Buzzard’s Ford until the baron is back. So you are left idling in the castle while you await the baron’s return. (You envy Nera, who melted into the Lower City in Nornholt before you had to report to your client.)

Helping with whatever crisis this is might win you some good will, so you rush to the site of the blaze. There, you see that three or four miners’ cabins ablaze. Worse, the flames are mere backdrop to a large-scale brawl! Seems about two dozen miners—mostly Dwarves and Gnomes, with a few Orcs and Humans thrown in—are throwing punches and taking them right back against another two dozen bedraggled folks you recognize as refugees from Buzzard’s Ford.

The castle garrison, already stretched thin since a large contingent traveled with the baron, seems unsure how to handle the situation. About five have set up a bucket brigade from the nearby Cailn River, while another half dozen attempt to calm the unruly mob. Neither tactic seems to be working very well.

The refugees pause upon hearing Tronus bark out his tirade. "That's.. that's Tronus!" one of them exclaims. "Maybe he can talk some sense into these..." Most of the refugees take a step back, put up their hands, or otherwise retreat. A Gnome skulks off down the row of cabins. But six of the refugees keep fighting. "Let's burn 'em all down! We can't let these sods push us around!"Meanwhile, Nekurr talks the guards into focusing on the fire. They nod in assent, but one adds, "Don't let anyone get away! We're taking this whole lot into the constabulary for questioning!" Talking them into focusing on the fire turns out to be a good idea, since just as the guards join their comrades in the bucket brigade, another cabin catches fire. A sudden storm cloud gathers overhead, causing everyone to look up in awe. It erupts in a torrential rain that seems to suppress the fires toward the south end of the camp. The bucket brigade turns its attentions to the newly flaming house and starts to get it under control. An old Half-Elf woman screams, "My shop! My shop!" as the men try to extinguish the flames.It looks like things will be settled soon. The six refugees who still seem to want to fight can't last long against 24 burly miners. And with the arcane storm above, the guards won't need long to stop the last of the fires.

Listening how the refugees appear to have started this "rebellion" and see many of them giving up, Nekurr runs up the those you too a step back and advises them discreetly to just run away before the guards are back.

With the fire nearly extinguished, Hildar puts several pieces together for at least some context on what seems to be happening here.

Most of the Buzzard's Ford refugees look worn-down in both body and spirit. Nekurr's words only bring out a few sighs and mutterings. "We're better off in jail," one says. "At least there, we can count on at least one square meal a day." Meanwhile, a nearby soldier overhears Nekurr's suggestion and tells him to get clear of the "prisoners."

The guild miners form a circle around the six recalcitrant refugees as Tronus tries to stop them from causing more damage. They start chanting a song of triumph in Old High Dwarven which Tronus recognizes as the Mining Guild's anthem. Within moments, four horse-drawn prison wagons appear on the scene, and another six soldiers armed with pikes begin rounding up the refugees and miners, careful to keep them separated. Neither side really resists.

Meanwhile, the old woman keeps lamenting her lost shop. She tongue lashes the refugees: "You did this! Don't let them get away! Some of them fled, too! They're probably in that filty camp of theirs!"

The torrential rains and buckets seem to finish off the flames, while the guards capture all the rioters. The only thanks you get is a gruff, "Back away from the prisoners!" from one of the soldiers.