February 20th:

Javan lost his words for a moment, then turned to the goblin, then to the elder, then back to the goblin.

"W-Well... For all that's elemental, I'm impressed by the sheer number of people around, but I was usually asleep during my geography classes and am not that well informed about what's going around in the world so... Stonehold. Uh, what is it, is it yummy and what in the frell happened?"

Javan:
Both Goblin and Dwarf, and a few nearby people overhearing, all turn to you and look at you like you're an idiot.

"He means they're refugees," comes a female voice from behind you. A rather tired looking Fierneceal is walking out, hair a mess, but dressed in her combat robes just in case. "Displaced by war. And seeking whatever safe place of haven they can. And by the look of the crowd still coming... they're the first of many." Worry is in her eyes.

Javan sighs at their looks. slap his cheeks in an attempt of fully waking up, then turns to Fierneceal.

"I just learned that trying to do things while half-asleep is not a good idea for keeping whatever image I'm trying to maintain... And this...", the fairy motions to the general direction from where the people are coming, "I think this is new to everyone, even me. And looks totally out of our league. I'm so open to suggestions on how to approach this right now, you have no idea."

Javan:
Fierneceal runs her fingers through her hair, looking at the horizon. "I wish I could say this was the first time I've seen something like this... but never so vast." She shivers in the brisk morning wind. "There's a lot of surrounding countryside," she begins, "It's quite tame, mostly grass and light trees. No wild beasts or monsters. Plenty of land to..." she pauses to choose her words carefully. "...rest on, temporarily. No one wants to turn away people who have lost their home, after all." She looks to Javan for support.

Snarg & Araiguna:
There is a very short pause. Your request for provincial aid is acknowledged, it will be taken under consideration with regards to your organization's operating within our best interests. The voice in your minds slowly fades as the cloak similarly starts to vanish from view. Hollows will be along shortly to translate.

The crystal loses its glow, the cloak fades from view, and you are left in the room alone once more.

Javan nods at Fierneceal once and turns back to the elder and goblin, "Just as my comrade here said, resting in the countryside will have to do the trick. The elder might already told you already, but this place has barely keeping up as of late. As much as I'd like to help, there's too many of you and too little resources here."

Javan:
Fierneceal nods, then gestures for Javan to come over and whispers to him once they're a little bit away from the argument which has resurged behind them. "Listen, the others are at the you-know-where so they can keep it sealed up from... this, but this whole thing's only going to get worse and I have a feeling it's going to be a long day, so let's go get some more rest before we try to tackle this."

The fairy yawns and nods once, and starts to walk absent-minded to the direction to the inn, now that he was given external approval to return to the bed.

Even his white scarf, usually floating despite the presence of wind or not, looks too quiet. The stress of having a 'giant ship of doom' around probably got Javan these past few days.

Rory:
No one peeks at you while you write. You manage to find Fierneceal's trail, barely, leading squarely in the direction of Marblebush, a quick jaunt away. To your general lack of surprise, by the time you get to the surface and out of the quarry, there are thousands of refugees in all directions; some still moving, some resting, some from races you barely recognize or have never seen before. There are quite a few surrounding Marblebush though, curiously, as you approach it looks like there are virtually none within.

Fierneceal's trail stops about at town but, fortunately, you spot both her and Javan who are chatting hurriedly amongst one another.

He was stunned at first. Rory had never seen so many people gathered in one place. The refugees at Holtburg were the last of his kind to escape the Tumeroks, and they didn't number near as many as these refugees. Holtburg might have had a population to rival this, but they were spread out across land and altitude.

As soon as he saw Fierneceal and Javan, he approached them at a quick trot. "Javan! Do you see this? They can't all from Stonehold, can they?" he yammered.

Javan turns to Rory and says in a tone of quiet anger most likely directed to those that created this situation.

"Rory... Turns out Stonehold was larger than anyone thought, it wasn't really a organized country. Or Was. Naverre and Sho combined their forces in what these people have been calling the Directorate. They bombarded villages and cities with their airships while everyone was sleeping... The majority of people were massacred just like that...", the fairy takes a pause, as he seems to fight for his next words.

"The people we see here are only the survivors, damnit. One of them told me about his grandma not making it because they were not prepared for the journey. They didn't have the time to prepare... Frell, I feel so bad right now for what I said in the morning...", Javan finishes his sentence and lowers his head.

Snarg stares hard at the crystal, as if daring it to activate again. "Well, I guess that's that," he grunts, shoving the crystal back in to his pouch. "We wait for pickup. Gather your things. Not telling how they'll turn up and how fast we'll need to leave." He hurriedly secures his belongings, plus one book, and sits down to wait on the bed, seemingly deep in thought.

Rory bat his eyes before giving a response. "They--that's unbelievable," he gasped.

His face turned sour. "All this time they've been trying to be peaceful with each other, even when they're provoked, and they just destroy someone else on a whim. They'll go back to tear at each others' throats regardless, and if there's nobody at the top of the ladder to blame for this, I don't give a damn."

A moment passed before he remembered why he woke up in the cave alone. He had to snap out of his focused bitterness, massaging his forehead and brow, before he could even look at Fierneceal. "I assume you left me all alone in the dark to go guard the cave?" he asked, adding a touch of wryness.

Rory & Javan:
"I was tired!" she says, playfully. "Besides I put in mental instructions to sleep until you would wake, which would break the Tusker enchantment anyways." There's a pause as she looks around. "I... will admit I wasn't expecting this, otherwise I would have probably left other precautions. How are things at the... cave?"

"It's gotten worse," Rory answered, flitting back to his inital urgency and worry. "One of the..." he trailed off, then drew in closer to the two of them and lowered his voice to a level only they would hear. "One of the adventurers, the Fel Knight--the other one is dead--managed to escape, and ran to an Order outpost to the East, and Snarg, Araiguna and Gwydo ran after him. The Gnoll and the Mite got caught, and Gwydo was seen. He had to flee, I'm certain the Order was trying to capture or kill him! Then we ran into a bunch of refugees outside, and I had to convince them to stay away from the ruins. Turned out to be pretty easy.

"Gwydo and Sethos are standing guard," he continued on a rant, "and I left a note at Z's camp for help. Still got another for Zeiss, I need to leave that with the innkeeper. We need to set up camp in the woods nearby and try to keep an eye out. Until it's time to lay me down again, I need to stay near you no matter what."

Rory & Javan:
Fierneceal very nearly holds herself from doing an audible outburst, but does give a sharp jolt of frustration. "He... they... we..." She tries to control herself. "Okay. Javan, get to the ... cave, now. Rory and I are going to leave a letter for Zeiss, then join you shortly. We really do not need this right now while the entire world groans in pain beneath us, but we can't afford to be split up any longer." Without bothering with another word, she starts heading back for the inn, dragging Rory with her, clearly aggravated.

Snarg & Araiguna:
There is not much of a delay of relative silence before both of your ears perk up at the sound of someone coming down the steps. There is a hesitance as you are uncertain to whom might be arriving, and a loud clatter of a key on metal and the scraping of the thick steel door flying open settles the matter; an Aluvian soldier is standing there, eyes somewhat distant, while a tall Banderling in long, forest-green, very simple robes shoos him away and enters, alone, closing the door behind him. There is another latch and clank as the door locks. The Banderling looks between you, and you see a terrible weariness in his eyes. "Killing Adventurers is never a particularly easy matter to settle, but I'll be frank with both of you..." He scratches at the fur under his chin with one long claw. "That is not why I am here."

Snarg stands as the Banderling speaks, leaning against the fence. "That's good to hear, I haven't been aiming to be in that business. What business do you want with us? Are we being released?"

Snarg & Araiguna:
"Well," he begins, leaning against the wall. "In the past the word 'cult' has been used to define rogue, insane, and dangerous groups who may or may not be evil... but are, without question, a threat to people, society, et cetera." He folds his hands in front of them then opens them, palms outwards. "You both stand accused of being cultists... of harboring ill-intended individuals, speaking out against the Order, and of course, of killing two Adventurers who were with the Guild. And," he adds almost as an after-thought, "It is being widely suspect that you came here to infiltrate this city to finish the job with that poor Moarsman fellow, with one convenient Lugian minion to serve as a severe distraction. In all honesty," he adds almost apologetically, "There seems to be nothing but evidence against your favor." He pauses, eyeing both of you with clear curiosity.

Javan worded a simple "Got it" before turning around and making his way to the ruins. All these problems of late were getting the better of him, after all. Maybe Fierneceal was thinking about taking some kind of action, and the fairy already felt a little better about that possibility.

Blinking several times in confusion, Snarg stares at the Banderling before letting out a load burst of insane cackling laughter generally reserved for highly amused Gnolls. It takes him a quite bit before he can compose himself enough to speak. "Ahh! Ahh! This is ... what? I don't think I could spin something that crazy if I tried. I think someone hit their head a little hard and started making stuff up. Now, if I'm an honest Gnoll, and I am, I'd be willing to let you know what actually happened. There's some a tiny bit of truth in that story, but there's no cult conspiracy or secret assassins on the loose. That can't be what everyone's believing? What kind of evidence is this? You brought us in as we were leaving and now I get accused of this? I think I know already, but who's accusing us?"

Spoiler:

After seeing the influx of refugees firsthand, Rory believed that there was no way that those on their way from Holtburg would not see them. Deciding to leave his note as-is, he tri-folded it and took it to the room he rented when he got to town. In the room, he hid the note underneath a trash bin.

"We need to close the door in the ruins," Rory whispered to Fierneceal after telling the innkeeper about Zeiss. He had told said proprietor merely to direct Zeiss to Rory's room for a "message".

Rory:
"I have a couple thoughts about that, but what worries me most is... remember how this all started?" She is talking while half jogging, half running back to the ruins with you. "The door was either openable, or was already open, when they found it. What if it's easy to open or, worse, can't be closed?"

Snarg & Araiguna:
The Banderling's mellow mood has soured by the time you're finished talking. "There is enough evidence to convict," he says simply. "The word of a respected member of the Guild, and testimony from Dwarves from Marblebush regarding the Elven Adventurer who died there... who was stripped of all belongings, I might add, a damning fact in and of itself... and of a strong desire to keep people in the town away from the ancient ruins. Ruins which, by law, do belong to that city and they have every right to use to boost their economy or situation or whatever else they please... provided," he adds with an almost bored tone, "the local Marquess allows such permission." He goes back to scratching his chin. "I came down here expecting, or perhaps hoping, to find some alternate path to a story that, to be quite frank, looks completely cut and dry from a judge's perspective. And instead I receive maniacal cackling, and veiled insults. Hum."

Rory:

Archengeia wrote:"I have a couple thoughts about that, but what worries me most is... remember how this all started?" She is talking while half jogging, half running back to the ruins with you. "The door was either openable, or was already open, when they found it. What if it's easy to open or, worse, can't be closed?"

Rory squinted a little, bewildered, and edged toward the door. "That doesn't sound right. Who would make something that could only 'some' people could use, only to find they couldn't use it anymore," he postured, now a forearm's length away from the door, "or that they're no longer as privileged as they thought? Why, did you try already?"

Snarg gives the Banderling a confused expression, as if he doesn't believe what he's hearing. "No threats here, sorry you got that impression, I just don't know how you'd want me to take this. You've got to admit that's a bit of a wild story - took me off guard. I told you I'd tell you what happened, do you want to hear it ... er, sorry, don't know your name."

Rory & Javan & Sethos & Gwydo:
Rory and Fierneceal catch up with Javan, and the three make good time to the quarry, where the number of refugees in the quarry itself have grown. Gwydo is actually standing in the doorway, arms folded, discussing things with a rather haggard looking family of Kobolds who are carrying a few elderly looking people on cots, who look both sickly and unwell.

Snarg & Araiguna:
"Oh, of course forgive my manners." The Banderling gives a low bow. "I am Tomkin of Striker. I am an Ibrexi within the Second Wing of the Order. And I would be delighted to hear your..." he pauses, his nose twitching faintly, "...tale."