[RP] Averancia: Hero's Call

Lord Amberstead nods with a grim expression. "That, I fear, is all too accurate. If you are beyond the limits of civilization, I shall undoubtedly have to send out riders for you. And pray that is enough."

The birds are healthy enough and quite chirp-y/birdsong-y when their cage is not covered. Most of them seem fairly young, but not incapable of being on their own.

With some apologies for the railroading, Ernest. Just have to make a few changes to make it campaign-suitable.

Lord Amberstead inclined his head respectfully, a formal bow acknowledging the priest who knelt before him, extending a sealed envelope of red vellum with a steady hand. Amberstead accepted it with care, his eyes tracing the intricate seal embossed with the symbol of a sunburst overlaid with the Fleur-de-lis of the Church of Elion.

"The Hallowed Sun?" Amberstead murmured, a hint of surprise in his tone. "I thought the order had faded into history, disbanded nearly fifty years past. But perhaps," he mused, glancing at the emblem again, "the Church of Elion has chosen to adopt a quieter path since then, no longer summoning its priesthood to the call of adventure."

With a slight pause, his eyes shifted back to the priest, whose humble demeanor and weathered robes carried the weight of countless journeys. A flicker of recognition passed over Amberstead’s face as he inclined his head once more, this time in deeper acknowledgment. "You are welcome here, Father... Veritate." He spoke the title hesitantly as though uncertain whether or not it was appropriate for the moment.

He points towards the others that are present, "This is Aengus de na Treada, a humble shepherd whose faith in Father Elion is as deep as it is profound; this man I call only 'Beastlord' as he seems to care more for the beasts of the wild than of our communities, but he is still willing to fight for what is right; and of course the noble Aundovald on the course of his knighthood. We did have a Master Aelwynd with us as well, but I have not yet seen him this night; he was a scribe who had a passing interest in religion and magic and a bit of a diplomatic tongue as well."

Lord Amberstead steps away for a moment as he opens the envelope and scans its contents briefly.

Just a quick correction—we’re in Market Town, not Redstone.

Lord Amberstead looks up with a grin from the paper he’s reading, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. "I haven’t heard many people call the house I keep here a ‘palace,’" he chuckles, shaking his head. "Though I suppose some might think it is, at that."

His expression shifts as he turns his attention to the newcomer, an unmistakable Nobiran Wizard standing among them. The sight catches him off guard, his brows lifting in surprise as he takes in the figure before him. "But... I thought your people had all returned to the continent!" His words are tinged with a mixture of awe and reverence. "I hadn't realized any remained."

Lowering his head in respectful acknowledgment, Amberstead speaks again, his voice carrying a genuine warmth. "It is an honor to have another of the Istari here in Averancia. Your presence brings a certain... gravitas to our cause." He casts a glance around, as though searching for other arrivals, but when he realizes Athan Brandshot is alone, he straightens, smoothing his composure.

"Welcome, Athan Brandshot." His tone is both formal and welcoming, a nod to the rare distinction of having a Nobiran Wizard in their ranks. "It feels as though our group is finally coming together, each new face a piece of the puzzle. With you among us, Averancia may yet find hope."

Lord Amberstead lets out a quiet sigh, the weight of recent burdens evident in his gaze as he regards the gathered company. He straightens, folding his hands thoughtfully before addressing them. "In truth, the aspiring knight Aundovald might be best suited to answer such a question, for the matter calls for both courage and decisive action. But, as it stands, I shall explain as fully as I am able."

He pauses briefly, gathering his thoughts before continuing, his voice carrying both concern and resolve. "The village of Blackhill, to the east, has reached out in distress, sending word of a troubling threat. They speak of a strange presence of beastmen—creatures prowling too close to their homes, stirring unrest among the people. It is unclear whether they are scouting for a larger force or simply terrorizing the village as a diversion. Either way, their presence cannot be ignored."

Amberstead’s eyes harden as he continues, his determination visible. "I am sending you all ahead to Blackhill to investigate, to ascertain the extent of this threat and, if possible, to take steps in answering it. The people there are fearful, and I would see that fear eased, with the knowledge that aid has arrived."

He glances toward the east, almost as if he can envision the village and its people in need of protection. "If it becomes clear that a larger force is necessary, I will do all I can to raise a defense here in Market Town. But until we understand the scope of this danger, we must act with both caution and urgency. May your courage bring reassurance to those in need."

Amberstead’s words hang in the air, the gravity of the task unmistakable.

"Speaking of need. I've noticed, Aundovald, that you've already purchased horses and hired retainers. See to it that these newcomers are equally equipped." He tosses him a small velvet bag bulging with coin.

The next morning, as the heroes prepare to set out, they may find themselves surprised by a small gathering of additional horses and retainers—courtesy of Aundovald. Though the young knight had vanished unexpectedly, he had arranged for support beforehand, a testament to his foresight and commitment. The new recruits are primarily grooms, skilled in handling horses and accustomed to long journeys across the duchy. Some are seasoned packers and messengers, adept at bearing supplies and managing logistics. While few of them are trained for combat, each is prepared to contribute meaningfully, lending their expertise to ease the heroes' burdens on the road ahead.

As the group readies to depart, they notice Lord Amberstead engaged in an animated discussion with a portly gentleman, likely the Mayor of Market Town. Despite the obvious urgency of his conversation, Amberstead breaks away to address the party, his eyes flickering with a mixture of concern and encouragement.

"I cannot say what dangers the road ahead may hold for you," he begins, his voice steady but carrying an edge of warning. "If you decide to travel cross-country, please be cautious of the abandoned farms and hamlets scattered along the way. Some of these places have been forsaken for a reason, and not all of them are empty of threat. There may be hazards out there far more menacing than beastmen, dangers that have claimed more than just deserted lands."

He lets the words sink in, his gaze moving between each member of the group as though he wishes to impress upon them the weight of his warning. "Being the vanguard of a defense force has its advantages—you'll have the first glimpse of what lies ahead—but keep your senses keen. Remain vigilant for any potential danger or hidden foes. Do not underestimate the perils lurking in a forsaken land."

Amberstead pauses, his expression momentarily softening with an almost paternal concern. "In about two days’ time, we shall begin our journey along the main road with whatever forces we can muster here. Reaching Blackhill may take longer than I would like, but we shall come. In the meantime, I urge you all to take no reckless risks. Yet if an opportunity to seize the upper hand presents itself, do not hesitate. May Father Elion guide you."

As he steps back, he nods solemnly. "We will also uncover what has become of Master Aelwynd and the young knight Aundovald, in due time. But first, let us deal with the crisis in Blackhill. Stay safe, all of you."

With that, Lord Amberstead returns to his conversation, leaving the heroes with his blessing, a call for vigilance, and the knowledge that Averancia’s hopes ride with them.