DCC DotSK: Act 1-3

Bloody animals, Aldric thought. First hounds, now ... whatever this was. He had half a mind to turn the unholy feline with his Pelagic authority, but what would that avail him? If she wasn't done, she wasn't done, and coming home to find her giant cat pissed the rug because he drove it back with holy magic wasn't going to do his cause any good. Although, given the state of this place, maybe a pissed-stained rug wouldn't be that noticeable.

"Fine, watch for my return at dusk, then," he responds to the cat thing, annoyed. He drags Catkins out of the hovel with him, and if his exit isn't prevented, he will go check on how the fundraising efforts his followers are supposed to be conducting are proceeding.

At least he felt a little satisfaction that Catkins had the shit scared out of her a little. Good to make sure the runt was aware that there were far darker and scarier things than her in the world.

Tyravasiel heaves a little sigh. There's no inscription to hint at the locket's purpose, and nothing distinctive about its shape: a heart, amongst the most common forms that a human amulet can take. Strange that such mean-hearted creatures seem to be so obsessed with their own.

No help for it, then.

The elf runs his thumb along the side of the locket until he can feel the seam, then gently pushes it open on its hinge.

"Them coins ain’t just fer the task. They’se fer yer sufferin in dis place."
Dufgal gives the kind of look that is supposed to say that he knows well the lowest rung.

Then he heads out to meet his destiny with his… friends.

AT THE CHURCH OF JUSTICIA (TY)

The locket opens easily, and inside Ty finds a delicate engraving of what looks like several stacks of coins. It's a very nice locket. Very nice indeed, the elf thinks. He should keep this trinket, not give it to the Mistress of The Ninth Blossom. No, other treasures would have to sate the Dark Lady. Though in truth, did she have need of riches? Silver, gold, gems? No, he decides almost instantly -- she does not!

Anora waves away any formality in the man’s voice or action. She had first stepped into this building with Broegan tied to the chair, and her voice commanded he be set free. Odd bonds such as these broke down the barriers between people; be they city folk or far flung villagers.

"Well, there is power in place, Broegan Haverson. Marching on the beast, and finding it in its own den, rather than it in ours, might make all the difference." she says, then sighing. She rubs at her eyes, before going on.

"I hope to appeal to the cosmic order in this way, and to old magic. Power and place… And, if I am wrong, then we shall simply thrash the beast with the tools we have gathered up all the same and let the bards tell of what happens next… one way or the other!"

OUTSIDE THE WOLF-SPEAR (ALL)

Three hours of sunlight remains as the strangers to Hirot reconvene outside the Wolf-Spear. Quite a crowd has gathered to see what they are planning, but a good number of the villagers are already in, or on their way to, the church. Interestingly, Ty noted in his travels through the building that it seemed untouched by previous Hound attacks. No shutters were smashed, no doors clawed. He'd also understood the magic he held in his hand with that locket as he closed it and tucked it away, perhaps for future use?

Dufgal had successfully re-hafted the holy warhammer, and carried the storied weapon like a common sledge.

Aldric and Catkins had returned to find that the newly converted had placed the treasures they could find throughout town in a wooden crate near the inn's door. Anora had calmed a few nerves with her words, but her head was still abuzz with what she had learned from the wizard's essay. Her mind brimmed with possibilities.

"We owe you everything," Morgan says to the quartet as they gear up for travel and possibly tomb exploration. "But what can we do for you now? Are you dead set on going to Ulfheonar's Tomb?"

Ty meanders back from the church, tapping along with his leather-wrapped cane. His pack is heavier by a full eighty pieces of gold, a child's silver crown, and one greed-cursed locket. He carries the rest of Justicia's bounty in the small chest tucked under one arm, which he makes no effort to hide.

Indeed, once he reaches the others, Ty crouches with the groan of an old man fighting old bones and sets the chest on the dirt between their feet.

"Father Beacom's contribution to the cause," he declares. "May his tithe wing him to whatever mortal heaven awaits him."

Justicia’s contribution to this whole ordeal had been a good deal more material than Pelagia’s. The hammer head, and now a small fortune… If only Aldric’s sea-queen could provide in a similar way.

"We do. You can usher the people to the church and bar the doors against the beast. It might be that we fail, or that we make poor time. The beast may attack. Let the people know that it is expected. Do not open the doors of the place for man nor beast. I fear reprisal from the Jarl…" Anora says, muttering that last part low and to Morgan alone.

Nearby, Ofenloch and Haedrick prepare to make ready for the Hound as well -- they will be staying behind to do their best to protect those in the church, should the Hound find a way in.

Aldric was dismayed at the paltry sum his followers had been able to rustle up. Yes, he’d given them short notice, but their efforts were laughably inadequate to meet the quadruple tithe he owed to Pelagia, the price of lifting the curse that clung to him like a barnacle. He wipes brine from his forehead, utterly soggy to his core, a small puddle spreading at his feet*. They were on the verge of delving into an ancient tomb—a place no doubt teeming with deadly perils—and here he stood, shackled by divine debt and despair.

Since the day Pelagia had sunk her claws into him, Aldric’s life had spiralled into a farce. Though he prided himself on enduring misfortune with grit, now his resolve faltered. The endless seep of brine from his skin masked the tears that carved paths down his weathered face. Surely, before the night was over he would be dead, and his soul in Pelagia's eternal clutches.

Then Ty appeared, striding toward him with a chest in hand. Without ceremony, the elf dropped it at Aldric’s feet. The sound of the latch snapping open echoed in his ears, but nothing could have prepared him for what lay inside: a glittering hoard of silver coins. A thousand pieces.

Aldric stared, his breath caught in his throat.

This wasn’t his followers’ doing; they couldn’t have managed it. He hadn’t schemed or cajoled this fortune into existence. Even prayer had failed him—he didn’t dare risk invoking Pelagia’s wrath further. Yet here it was, five times the sum he needed, laid before him by an elf.

For a moment, Aldric was paralyzed—not by gratitude, but by the realization of how profoundly he’d underestimated Ty, and everyone else around him. Since pledging himself to Pelagia, Aldric had been consumed by his singular mission to appease the goddess, to stave off her ceaseless torment. He’d reduced the world to a series of transactions, every relationship a tool to keep himself afloat for another day.

Ty had done this not out of obligation or fear or being tricked, but by something startlingly collegial. A thousand silver pieces—a pauper’s fortune to Aldric, but perhaps just metal discs to an elf. Yet, Ty surely knew their worth in human lands. Had Ty left Aldric to out to dry and kept the money for some more advantageous purpose, he wouldn't have blamed him. Whatever his reasons, the act was ... kind. And it stirred something in Aldric’s chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. It made him feel human.

"I thank you, Ty - truly," Aldric said, his voice hoarse but sincere.

A new resolve began to form in his mind. Perhaps Pelagia would always be his tormentor, but he didn’t need to sacrifice everything to her. His dignity, his self-worth—those could still be his to defend.

He dared not call Ty, Anora, or even Dufgal his friends. He hadn’t earned that right. He was, by his own admission, a cantankerous fool. But perhaps there was time to change that. Perhaps, before the end, he could prove himself worthy.

---

* - 100% curse moisture! Not urine this time! Probably!

Anora casts a bemused side eye over Aldric as the words catch in his throat. Then, pretending she hadn’t heard the exchange, she resumes her conversation with the barmaid.

"Only if there is a chance that we will make it inside. If the thing is doomed, do not open yourselves up to assault." she says, speaking practically about the topic of her own death. How had that happened? She had marched to this place for a piece of magical parchment, and now she stood before the gathered throng of Hirot’s finest and asked them to leave her to her fate if the beast came a-chasing!

Is the priest... reaching out to Ty?

Is Aldric palpating him with his feeble mayfly limbs? Bobbing his mayfly antennae tenderly in Ty's direction, as if to signal a nascent bond between elf and insect? A fleeting friendship, measured by the hours of an autumn afternoon for a creature of centuries such as Tyravasiel-Llir?

For a moment Ty is simply bewildered. Then, uncomfortable. He shifts backwards on his feet and spends a moment adjusting his coarse blindfold where it bunches around the sides of his nose.

"You're welcome of course, holy father," the elf mutters. "Glory be to the goddess." There's a touch of pleading in his voice when he addresses Anora with, "So, Headwoman. What now?"

"I must bring these coins, or at least 230 of them, to a body of water, to offer tribute and pay my sinner's tax. A terrible waste, but Pelagia demands this sacrifice to negate this curse she has place on my head. I believe there is a stream on the way to the tomb that should suffice, as all water leads back to the sea."

Dufgal waits for a moment when Aldric's attention is not on getting attention and whispers to him, "it may be wiser to do this tossin of coin private-like. That-a-way, none may be tempted to pick up 230 curses."

"Dufgal, as always, your counsel is wise."

He regards the hairy thegns ordered to accompany them with a suspicious eye.

"I will hang back and deposit the coins in secret, as you say."