Chapter 2: The Crucible of Freya

Corian turns to respond, but is interrupted by sudden sounds. The loud peal of the town bell cuts through the din of the inn’s common room. You hear sounds of battle from outside, and you see the flickering of strange lights through the window. As those of you who grab your weapons run outside, you immediately notice that the Temple of Freya is ablaze and that there is a skirmish between a cadre of town guards and a group of brutish humanoids of some kind. You can see that several town guards lie dead or injured. From the periphery, you notice Shandril and Arlen rushing toward you. The flames engulf the temple fully and light the village with a hellish glow. With a shout, the humanoids lob what appear to be flaming torches at the guards and flee to the east, shrieking in their foul tongue.

And yet Ryenne will try. Keenly aware that this will rile up the locals, who will be seeking to place blame anywhere, Ryenne gives chase as far as she can.

"Stand, Orc! Stand and face judgment!" she bellows as she runs, wheeling her mace above her head!

Datura flies ahead as far as she can and fires on the fleeing orcs...

Monaghan rushes forward to meet Shandril and Arlen and see if there's any way he can render aid!

Kariantha emerges from the inn after her fellows, keen to see what's going on, but wary. When she sees the building aflame, she calls inside the bar. "The town is under assault! Freya's temple -- it burns!"

Nebbleshuven doesn't care about the distance. It's orcs. He hates them with a passion and rushes towards the temple.

Arrows fly out into the ember-filled air and clatter against stone between the party and the orcs. The distance is too great, and they're escaping!

Corian and Galdar, too, rush out to see the commotion, and at least one of them starts running towards the blazing temple! Shandril and a stern man with a shock of gray hair rush to meet Monaghan. She quickly introduces Arlen, the mayor of this this town, and explains that the town guard will be busy dealing with all of the fire and disorder; the town will need you to recover the crucible, which was stolen by the orcs!

Nebbleshuven rushes forward with a keen ear. It is difficult to piece together everything the orcs shout, especially at such a distance, but he does make out a few words. Bowl, Keep, and Tavik. The last seems to be a name of some importance, though not one recognized.

Corian cries out for his warriors to join him, calling out for Ryenne, Nebbleshuven, and Datura. A throng of patrons from the Cask and Flagon rush past the wizard, all in confusion as the woman had warned them their town was ablaze!

"Just a moment," Nebbleshuven answers Corian. He rushes over to Arlen and asks, "Does the name Tavik mean anything to you? I heard the orcs shouting it."

Datura shakes her head that she does not recognize the name and rushes back into the tavern to collect the rest of her gear.

"Do we have the wherewithal to chase them now or must we wait till dawn?"

Kariantha holds up a finger as she finishes her beer, sets the mug down, then straightens her robes and hat before rushing to join the others. "I can help!" she offers, having also grabbed her staff from inside.

Following up with another question, Ryenne pushes the townspeople for more information:

"What lies that way?" she asks, pointing her mace in the direction the orcs ran, hoping the fragments of their language and their direction might furnish the group with a landmark to aim for.

Arlen blanches at the name. "We've been hearing the name for some time now. Some sort of leader of those swine-folk. Not the type to be trifled with. But by your cut, you all must be adventurers. If you hurry, you may be able to catch those orcs before the reach their destination! Let me send you with Lauriel; she knows the land as much as the next. They must be making for the keep, and they likely don't know the shortcut." A woman steps forward, lean in build but tough looking. You recognize her from standing by the guard who had interrogated you upon entry.

Shandril takes the sword from her belt and holds it out to Monaghan. "You look as though this could aid you. A weapon for a true warrior." The sword appears to be little more than a ceremonial sword or possibly a druidic weapon of some type. Its handle of horn makes it appear unsuitable for true combat, and it is encased in a rustic, unadorned reinforced leather scabbard. Lauriel's face twitches almost imperceptibly. "And here, let me do what I can. Two more offerings." She pulls out two potions from a pouch, with reddish liquid sloshing inside. She then reaches out towards Ryenne, who is looking rather rough, and invokes Freya to heal the woman. Almost immediately many of her aches and pains fade. "Promise to recover the crucible and bring to justice those who have defiled the temple of my goddess."

Two more guards rush forward. "Baran sent us. Jerinor and Hathol." They are each wearing uniform ring mail and green surcoats with the crucible device, and bearing a wooden shield, short sword, and shortbow. Lauriel, in comparison, wears chainmail and bears a flongsword and longbow. Corian looks over the band and then to you all. He looks ready to pursue, as does Galdar.

"Any of you fine humans have a fist full of arrows I could purchase?"

Having retrieved her pack, the gnome is good to go though diminished in ammunition.

"I will. You have my word." Ryenne responds, nodding when she’s asked to dole out justice for the shrine of Freya.

"Haste then! Guide the way. We can catch them before they defile the thing with the filth of their sty."

Nebbleshuven is ready to go as soon as everyone else is.

Monaghan regards the odd sword curiously, but accepts it with gratitude, not wishing to give offence. He'll inspect it more closely, give it a few swings, and try to discern it's properties once the party sallies forth on the way to the Keep.

Once the blade is drawn, it is clear that this sword is of exquisite workmanship. The length of the blade is traced with finely etched runes of an unknown design. There is an ethereal quality to the sword that Monaghan cannot quite comprehend. Once gripped, the horn handle fits the his hand better than any weapon ever held, and the blade glows with a warm, low light. Somehow, Monaghan feels the presence of something watching over him, and the name of the blade is made known to him. Valkyria. Shandril smiles grimly as the dwarf tests the blade, and says, "It must be returned to me once you have accomplished your task."

Meanwhile, the mayor retrieves a quiver of arrows from beneath his cloak and hands it to the gnome. They may be a little longer than she is used to, but Datura is rather clever. She can make do.

Datura thanks the mayor and looks for the dwarves of the broken shield.

"What-ho good dwarves! Are we ready to fight?"

Still a bit stunned by the savage attack, Faionn recovers and eyes Monaghan's blade. The make of it screams druidic to her, but she says nothing until she can be sure of more. It seems that there's little time for questions anyway.

For now, she twist her spear in one hand, setting her grip just right. "Let us make haste, then. I am as ready as I ever will be."

The dwarves of the Shattered Axe take up their arms and hurry outside, ready to hunt the orcs. And then the race is on. You begin heading east out of town, and the orc-sign is obvious. Heavy footprints and vegetation crudely hacked out of the way. After an hour you reach the river bend, a tributary of the Graywash River.

Try as you might, your band finds themselves unable to overtake the orc thieves. They are constantly too far ahead, and often out of sight. It is at this bend that the river is fordable, and you hurry across with little regard for footing. And once again you are in pursuit.

Not much longer after the river crossing, you find yourselves on a road leading northeast into a thick forest. Lauriel points you all towards a section of the trees that few of you would have noticed before. "I know the trail passes through here, but it is frequently overgrown. Keep your eyes out, it is far too easy to get lost. Or, if you'd prefer, we remain on the Old Road. It won't be as fast, but we won't get lost should luck desert us."