A farmer, his weasel, and his sword. (Open RP)

The unseen to most figure jumps out of the pack as Fluffsy gets a hint of the scent again before it gets too far away, rushing to a path with uncanny speed where there is a good view from above. Elodie looks upon the view curiously, then slows her breathing even further as if distancing herself when the conversation shifts from always improving to apathy.

As Elodie gets out of Turlagh's pack, Fluffsy will chirp suddenly but Turlagh will give only a dismissive nod in response, enchanted at first by the counsel of the two men and then by Miere's rather grandiose exit.

Stunned for a moment, Turlagh will eventually turn back to Arlen-

"I, uh, I don't think I want to meet any of his friends..."


Addressing Fluffsy- "Why don't you wear clothes like that?....Eh, I don't know what that means, but whatever you say, pal."

Turning back to Arlen once again, puzzled-

"....what the fuck's a beacon??"

Turlagh ponders that a moment before responding-

"So, it's an evil god then? Cause aren't gods the only things that get stronger when people worship them?....."

Fluffsy squeaks a bit in response.

"Yeah, that too."


Turlagh will sit quietly for a moment, and his face betrays the fact that he's obviously struggling with revealing something to you.

"That sort of...brings back a memory that I'd rather not revisit. I honestly wasn't planning on telling you any of this, but with some sort of Beacon lookin for ya and with Rook bein less...hospitable to sellswords like m'self I'm worried I might be running out of time to share this. We've been friends for awhile now, but I haven't told you much about my past, have I?"


"You're a Paladin, so you most likely know enough about religion to know about the Green Faith, probably even more than I do! I myself only learned it was called that recently, but in the Farmstead community I grew up in it was the only faith I knew.  We were taught to respect the wild places, and live harmoniously with the things that grow, taking only what was needed to survive, always giving thanks to and never abusing the land.  Growing up I found it rather boring, but now I know how important those lessons were. At one point I was even considered as an apprentice for a Druid!! Didn't quite have the, ah, patience for it though, as I'm sure you can imagine.


Anyway, so that's all good then, you've heard all about me being a troublemaker, pulling pranks and the like on every humorless elder and bully that caught my eye. I practiced a bit' o fightin, read books about chivalrous knights and dragons and princesses, filled my head with wonder and adventure. One day one of my ah, pranks went a bit wrong and I caught one of tha silos on fire.  Of course I was banished permanently and never allowed to return. 



He pauses for a moment.

See the thing is...that's only half the story. The pranks bit is true, as is the Green faith stuff.  But I wasn't kicked out for settin no fire. In fact, I wasn't kicked out at all.  


I've never told anyone this before, but I left my family, my home, my community, and vowed to never go back there again. 

One day, I come home a bit earlier than normal after feedin ol' Bessy, and I see that me Mum' n Pop are nowhere to be found.  Not thinking much of it, I started looking for 'em.  Wandered around for a bit 'fore I heard something weird coming from Old Long-grass' house. Long-grass was our oldest elder, a wrinkly old fart who was grouchier than a sleep-depraved mule, but he was a fine farmer and healer so everyone just let him be.  He's also the one who gave us kids all these lessons and mantra's about the Green Faith.


So, I figured it was probably just some sort o' council meetin, both ma parents were on the council and very involved.  I take a peek in the window and ...and..."


He swallows before continuing

"- and there they are.  Half the grown-ups in tha village, all in these ridiculous looking black cloaks.  All of em chanting something I can't understand, standing in a circle real serious looking.  I get a glimpse of one of my friends, Jeoff, bound and hog-tied there in the middle.  The chanting keeps gettin louder and louder and my Dad, who never, EVER, ate meat or raised his voice or killed a fly or got angry no matter how much trouble I got myself in, pulls out this long, jagged knife, and he says something else I can't understand, and he...he..."


"He didn't even blink when he killed him. Blood smacked across his face and he kept stabbing Jeoff, over and over and over and, something, came. I think they were trying to contact something and I felt it show up, something dark was in that building. I knew I had to run. I had to get away. So, I ran home, left a note about leaving to be an adventurer, and never looked back.  Found a shack in the slums and took to the drink to forget about it."

Water wells up in his eyes as he continues-

"The one thing I know at this point, as I'm sure you do as well, is that the Green Faith ain't about dark cloaks and chantings and human sacrifice.  Frankly, when I wasn't drunk enough to forget it, I thought that the whole incident was some kind of religious thing, a sort of extension of the Green Faith I just hadn't been exposed to yet.  But now I know that doesn't add up. Green Faith is neutral, it's about balance, not human sacrifice.  I think my folks were worshiping something real bad, and I want your help to find out what the fuck it might be. You're the only one I trust enough to help me with this. It's probably just paranoia but sometimes I feel....watched. I think they might be after me."

Turlagh's eyes will light up when you mention the library, and he'll grin widely when Arlen adopts his overly-dramatic pose, and it's easy to tell he realizes the ridiculousness of the gesture but appreciates it very much all the same.

"Aye, I think that'd be just the thing.  And you really are too kind, friend. Once again I find myself in your debt.  I have to retrieve some supplies from my cabin first, but I think it would be smart to stay 'round here for a bit, lay low and see if I can find some work outside Rook.  Also, I trust your judgement as to who you share this information with.  Obviously I'd appreciate it if you shared this with as few people as possible, and if you do to try and not mention my connection to it.  If this...cult-thing is still operatin, we don't know how well connected they are. "

He pauses for a moment.

"I...can't stress this enough Arlen. But thank you. I'll be back soon, shouldn't take me too long to grab my things.  If you don't hear from me after a week, assume that I'm off on work.  I'll try to make contact with you if something happens.  If I've not made contact after two weeks....well....you'll have a place to start looking. I can take care of m'self but the help is, ah, appreciated to say the least. I'm glad that us wannabe knights can stick togetha! Also, I have ta admit, even though it's not the best of circumstances, I am a bit 'cited ta see wot I can find out in that library of yours.  Fluffsy's kinda made me curious to learn more about...ehrm.." He gestures to the temple around you both "ya know, about all this. What the powers that be can give you tha power ta do."


After discussing a few more logistics and making some more suggestive jokes about Arlen's guard-captain, Turlagh will excuse himself.  He'll be packing in his cabin when a messenger knocks on his door, and the following events happen (link). As stated he'll stay in Salisara for about a week before returning.  You'll see him arrive about a week and a half later, carrying an impossibly large backpack and pillow, and with his childish face and grin it almost seems like he's a teenager going to a sleepover.  

He'll find Arlen and excitedly portray his adventure in Salisara as Arlen shows him his quarters.  When he gets to the part about being surrounded by shadows and having to call upon Miere to save his life, you'll see him become visibly more grim.

"The things was...I couldn't touch those things.  My blade hurt em, just a bit, but still went right through 'em.  Nasty things.  I'm just worried though, how many things are like that? Up till now, I thought that all manner of beasties could just be killed if you had enough skill and a magical sword but...."  He'll pull out his sword and give it a bit of a flourish, looking at it in disappointment. "I'm not so sure anymore."

Elodie becomes overwhelmed by curiosity and covertly checks the locks of every closed lockbox and closed door in the building to see how secure they are, not taking anything. (Take 10 perception of 27, take 10 disable device of 39 with masterwork thieves' tools)

(In response to Arlen's response about various incorporeal enemies)

"Aye, seems for many things it comes down ta either money or spell-skill in our line of work. Either ya have the enchantments ta do the job yourself...or ya have ta pay someone who can help solve it for you. It just seems....bothersome ta have to have the right enchantment on yer weapon for the right time ta fight the right enemy. Like Miere said, I want ta protect as many as I can, and I'm just not sure I can do that without a bit o....versatility, I guess."


(Joining Arlen in the common room)

Flashing across his face, you'll see Turlagh first show shock, then a little blush of embarrassment, then intrigue, then a rare bit of understanding. He'll pause before answering, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Heh, I think pretty much everyone in Rook has fouler language than you do, Arlen.

As to your colleague, I'd say your right. I have a bit of a habit, of making jokes o things that make me a bit uncomfortable.  It's just my way of coping with certain things.  I feel comfortable saying things like tha' in your company, as a friend, but Ah wouldn't ever say anythin tha' disrespectful to a lady's face.  And as for taking steps, I have yet to actually meet tha woman. Love's quite intimodatin, and I'd rather face down a horde o' them shadows than have my throat grow lumps and my stomach take ta knots, which is exactly whot happens whenever I pass by that gorgeous red-headed spitfire.  

As for yourself, my friend, I find myself a few years your younger and a few feet your shorter.  Be that as it may, it seems it's time to staht returnin some o the counsel you've given to me over these years.

You are, the knight in the books that I aspired to be.  You are chivalrous, caring, filthy rich, tall, good looking, and not half bad with a sword.  You possess incredible abilities, and a soft kindness that inspires folks like myself to live up to.  

And as for romance, if this were a fairy tale, you'd have your tall, long haired, blonde princess already. You've already saved the kingdom, though its not a one-and-done deal like it is in those books.  

My point is, a normal romance is not one for knights.  I don't believe it's your destiny ta marry some commoner who has a crush.  The love you'll get will shine brightly, and whoever it is that lands Ser Arlen will be a fantastic lass worth telling tales over.  Although, light that shines that brightly can often be a beacon for the dark things of the world, and all love needs a sword of some kind ta protect it.  I think, for us, patience will be the currency we'll end up buying love with, and as we both know that's a hard and rare treasure to come by. But I think fate will reveal to us our mirrored hearts, in this life or the next. It'll just take us keeping to the path."

Smiling, he'll stand as he finishes 

"Now, what say we go check out that library of your's? Maybe I'll finally get the hang o' that spell-slinging stuff while we hit those books. We've got a cult ta stop, after all."

Arlen contemplates Turlagh's words for a few moments; perhaps indeed his shot at romance, much like the woman who would attract his attention, would both indeed be special. This gave him a smile and reminded the man that he can still learn very many things from any source, including his humble and honest friend. Even with Turlagh's innocent mentions, the gravity of that prospect from a beacon of love was quite clear; enemies were after all trying to attack him, his allies and his associates, which he had little knowledge of to counter and/or combat them. The demons inside his head undoubtedly overjoyed at the worry, so he thought and that meant perhaps he needed to adopt new tactics and skills to fight the coming fights.

"You are right, Mr. Sweeney; I will keep your advice in mind, as I'm sure patience is the key to welcome more happiness into my life. Though... With battles and conflicts to come, I think I also need to prepare for the inevitable. Well... Follow me, I'll take you to the library. It isn't very large, but it does cover a wide range of topics."

In truth his whole spiritual being had been marred by previous atrocities and failures, so if any time was important to meet the Lady in Red, it would be in the current present. Her visage and ideals, however vague or nondescript they were, always gave Arlen comfort.

He led Turlagh to the small library, where bookcases were stacked and well-stocked with tomes and reading material of all kinds, all relating to magical and religious studies. Fortunately enough, there were also a couple of bookcases with supplied books based on other subjects: mathematics, science, world politics and other general subjects. A couple of people were working/writing away at some desks as the two entered; assumed to be studying or scribing.

"The books are free to study and scribe from, and as a guest you have full access. I'll put in a good word to Miss. Damodred for you. In return... Try not to make things awkward for me if I find a woman to court, eh?"

A wry grin flashed across his face with the last hopeful comment.

Zakryk will be asking one of the acolytes tending to the flame at the back of the large hallway, and he will gesture to a room off to the left. He states that Arlen was seen leading a small, scruffy-looking man with a weasel on his shoulder towards the temple library, not too long ago. 

"I appreciate the good word, my friend. As for not making things awkward??? Well....I make no promises, but I'll try my best." He says the last part with a knowing twinkle in his eye, though.

Later in the library with Arlen, he'll wander through the many stacks of books, curiously pouring over the pages in a studious manner that is out-of-character for the simple man.

Strangely focused, he'll wander behind one of the shelves as Zakryk enters the room and Arlen goes to greet him.  He sees a large leather-bound tome that seems different, somehow, from the others present.  He takes it off the shelf and immediately almost drops it, catching it at the last moment. It's almost as though it had doubled in size when he had picked it up, but he pushed the strange thought out of his mind and blew off the many layers of dust that covered the large book.  Strange that this one is so dusty, the other books here seem to be rather well kept and cleaned regularly.

The cover was covered in strange symbols, presumably one of the many languages he was simply unfamiliar with.  He began to flip through the pages, and suddenly he wasn't standing in Arlen's library anymore. He was-


-floating...in a sea of clouds. He stood up, confused, and saw a beautiful woman approaching him slowly.  She wore a long white gown that billowed out around her, though Turlagh could feel no wind.  "Who are you?" he called. She did not respond, and smiled shyly in response.  "Where am I? What is this place???" He called out once more. Still she did answer, instead walking closer. Stunned Turlagh felt words escape from him as she placed her hands on his face, pulled him close began-

-dying. Darkness fell around him as he gasped for air. A shadow with ten thousand eyes looked upon him and found him unworthy. He stood up. Darkness gave way to fire, and he was surrounded by corpses. He gagged, wanting to vomit, but his felt as though it had been dried and turned to ash. He wept, and as he crawled to look upon the nearest corpse he realized it was-

-kissing him. It felt..nice.  He had never kissed anyone before, and certainly didn't think his first would be with a knock-out girl like this. Internally shrugging, he figures this is all a dream and gives himself up. That's when her flesh began-


-sitting.  On what appeared to be some sort of throne? He was looking out over a sea of people, all of them kneeling in his direction.  He felt something upon his head, reached up to see what it was.  It felt like a crown.  His eyes adjusted and he realized that though this was a court of some kind, trees surrounded him. Was he outside? In his confusion, he failed to notice a long haired elf who was slowly approaching him.  She was -

-rotting. He tried to pull away as the skin and muscles began to fall off of her face in large chunks, but she held on with vicious, inhuman strength. She bit his cheek, but instead of blood, spots of black ink spattered across her withered face.  She pulled him close, biting his neck hard. He was frozen in place and could do nothing as she began to skin him with her long, knife-like nails.  The pain blinded him.  He couldn't bear to watch her, but he felt her meticulous work, picking off every bit of his skin.  He felt her hot, rotting breath in his ear as she whispered something he didn't understand. He opened his eyes and looked down. Instead of the mauled, skinless body he was expecting, he saw a black void, complete with swirling galaxies and sparkling stars.  Finally he could understand what she said.

-him. By the gods, the corpse looked just like him. It was like looking into a morbid mirror. Gasping, he spun around. All the corpses were him. And they began to stand. They chanted, low, guttural, almost beautiful noises that struck some strangely heavenly notes. They all turned, slowly, and they chanted to him.

-speaking to him. "My King? You seem distracted my darling." He looked at her, still confused by what was going on. The elf smiled, turning to the court. She yelled out.


Tur-lagh. Tuuuuurrrrlaaaaaaaaggghhhhh. We are with you. We can make aaaalll your dreams come true. All you have to do, is let. me. in.


Arlen and Zakryk will hear a thud, and upon investigation will see Turlagh lying on the floor, spasming wildly and foaming at the mouth. There is no book around him, nor any indicator of what might have happened.

A female hobgoblin head made out of marble seems to raise out of the floor, looks at the injured Turlagh, and then the floor underneath him depresses into a pocket for him to lie in comfortably, the displaced marble that was there seems to raise the floor accordingly. In truespeech, the figure says "We should look for someone that can heal him before he dies from the impact." 

Arlen is thoroughly perplexed by the random stranger hobgoblin, who warped his floor and who knows what else is afoot. Why the heck said woman even bothered to do that was also perplexing, and Arlen was quick to show his displeasure with a stern frown. 

"Who ar-... Nevermind, out of way! My acolytes are trained healers, and we do have a stock of smelling salts and other healing supplies in the infirmary..."

As gently as possible, Arlen picks up the unconscious Turlagh, carrying the man to the infirmary; a short distance away and taking great care not to jostle his body too much. It was strange how this catatonic and wildly spasm state was induced, considering Turlagh was in tip-top health. Hurrying to the infirmary, Arlen laid his friend on an empty bed. He gestured to a few idle acolytes and helpers:

"You lot, quickly; this man needs help. Please, grab some healing supplies and smelling salts and tend to him."

Zakryk follows Arlen to the infirmary and stands somewhere out of the way, seeing Turlagh and his weird hand eye.  He considers casting Detect Magic again, but he figures if the eye was magically added to the hand, he would have detected the effect making it when he scanned Turlagh earlier.  Maybe the eye is some kind of nonmagical parasite Turlagh's been carrying all this time?  (Knowledge Arcana and Knowledge Planes are both +5 (take 10 would be 15).  Does Zakryk know anything?)