AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

Those entering Cliffside village would discover quite a sight. The entire hamlet seems devoid of life. The large barn, once filled with cows, grains and other exports of the village is burned to cinders. Some blackened bones are among the charred ruins, but it is the only indication that this place had any kind of population. The two houses along the side of the road are empty, and suffer from superficial burns on their exteriors, but nothing that would be structurally damaging. The house at the end of the lane, however, is completely untouched by the fires. The hamlet is still and quiet. Even the goblins seem to avoid it.

Those who traded with the small village would find that all trade has halted.

A small elven figure in black and violet stalks through sometime later, wrapped in spells. A long, flowing silvery ponytail and ebon skin where the spells thin point to her identity, and she swears a blue streak in both common and Drow...

A red-headed woman in full plate adorned with an etching of Lathander's holy symbol came upon the scene not long after the rain had put out most of the fires. Some time afterward, the paladin watched over as attempts by others were made to call the victims back to life in the Triumvir - an effort championed by the kobold Kurchin, who had run through Cordor pleading for help from any available clergy. All such attempts failed, however.... and so she followed along as the decision was made to bury the charred remains of the inhabitants of the cliff village of Actand.

Just to the east of the village, Tori accompanied several others - her companion and confidante Trent, Lila the Sunite, a man who called himself "Wisp", Markus Webber, and Kristophe of Valkur - to the village's little cemetary, to lay the remains to rest alonside their families and loved ones of the past. Prayers were said over the remains as they were buried; prayers reflecting the faiths of Hoar, Valkur, Lathander and Helm could be heard, beseeching the gods to let their souls rest peacefully, or promising vengeance upon those who had caused their deaths.

Not long after, Tori and Trent made their way to Kohlingen, searching for information on a name they'd heard brought up - some mysterious "Rider" they'd never heard of before. Their inquiries led them to a little gnome magician, Tuomas.... and back to the village once more.

After some time with Tori and the others , Tuomas looked to the remaining house with narrowed , sad eyes.

~.. What sin did these people bear to deserve such a fate? I cannot think of any... ~

A young woman with long chocholate-colored hair and sunlit blue eyes witnessed the red-haired woman in Lathanderite colors and a man in a red cloak enter into the Holy City of Kohlingen that afternoon. When they spoke their tidings and left with the small-sized mage Tuomas in a portal to the village she whispered lowly, but full of sincerity

Bahamut bless those poor people...

Later, when she had eaten her first real meal in days, a few lovely apples provided by a generous Triadic Knight, she prayed long before the idol of Bahamut, Lord of the North Winds. Throughout the long session the guard within the shrine might have been able to hear her low prayers; each of them sincere pleas that the Platinum Dragon bless those who had departed so suddenly and so violently from the world.

On one of her many patrols, Malandria gazes at the remains of the village. A frown evident on her features as she emits a low sigh. Her voice nothing but a low, sad mumble as she speaks in chultan to the two felines at her side who scan the area. "I am not sure what saddens me more. The destruction and suffering which was inflicted on this area or the fact that the sight of it does not even stirr the slightest surprise in me anymore."

The felines gaze up as they hear the druidess voice, though only for a brief moment. The animals seem irritated and tense and their eyes soon after dart over the area again. Whiskers twitch at the smell of burned wood and bone. The chultan woman lingers another moment before she averts her gaze and resumes her patrol, the felines easily keeping up with the limping woman. While Malandria seems to now be lost in her thoughts and less aware of her surroundings, the two animals stay tense and alert until the village is far behind them

*A certain knight in Kohlingen can be seen entering to the area rather often.*

::Vindel while taking one of his routine walk around the isle, would take a peek at the town to only be surprised. His spirited additude only faded away from the layout that is before him. He shakes his head in dismay and walks away from the village::

"Much more work needs to be done; it never ends it seems"

A small private vigil seems to have been held in the middle of the night. A single track of heavy boot prints are in the mud from a light rain, and candles are set at the sites of the burned homes. Some sites have more than others, suggesting that each candle represents one of the lost.

In Cordor, a private party for one is held in a small apartment in the inner-city, but with enough liquor for more.

"Goddamnit, why did you leave when I need you the most..."

The morning after the assault on the village, just before dawn's first light, the red-headed paladin can be seen trudging through the lifeless village as she makes her way once again to the small graveyard just to the west of it. There, she faces eastward and kneels down in prayer near the recently-buried remains of the villagers, soft words offered up to Lathander over the grave once more. Only after the prayer for the recently departed is completed does she offer up her ritualistic morning prayer, asking for the deity's blessings for her daily tasks and such.

Once her prayers are completed, she goes about gathering what flowers she can from the area, and lays them upon the grave. That done, glances to the older graves. Realization dawns on her that any family members which may have survived the long-buried villagers may now be non-existent, she also tends to them - pulling weeds from around the markers, and laying fresh flowers before them as well.

She stays there, performing these tasks, long after the sun has crested the eastern horizon - departing only after each grave, no matter how old, has been well-tended.

The drowess, fully warded, brings a dwarf through. They ensure all the dead are properly buried, though without prayers or rites...despite her home and studies, Irae'arra has no more love for undeath than most, and prefers the dead to rest well. After that, she turns her attentions to other things, casting about for what caused this in the first place, scrying and casting Legend Lore to determine it.

Last eve, a Gnomish Magician spent some time studying the area, casting two spells and also taking the time to do some mundane study before quietly departing.

*Thunder. A deep rumbling. Then nothing. Three jagged lines break the skyline.*

"... I am willed... I move as His hand.

*Thunder.*

Very well. The wages of the debtor shall be rendered in full."

The Village of Cliffside does not seem quite so deserted now. People can be seen moving around within it, which upon inspection seem to be the strange foreigners who were recently evicted from Uhm. They seem to be working to put the village to rights and restore it to be liveable once again.

This is village is now theirs.... this Village is now Cliff Village.

The Shrine had been unable to act before the damage had been done to Cliffside, in a way some of them felt responsible for not aiding Cliffside more. Erelkacha mourned but did not allow it to pull her into depression. The evil doers who did this would pay of that she was certain.

As for the hustle and bustle of new comers in the village she hardly cared, after all humans all looked mostly alike to her and they were just humans. Admittedly she would have to greet them and make sure they weren't loosing one evil for another. Though for the time being that could wait Kampos was being repaired and that was somewhat of a larger concern.

The easterners, should they rise early enough, would catch glimpse of a red-headed woman in fullplate making her way through the village every morning just before sunrise. Her routine has become daily now. She makes her way to the little cemetary to the west of the houses. Once there, she pulls weeds from around the graves and headstones, then adjusts or replaces flower arrangements on each one. Finally, she prays over the graves until the sun begins to rise, at which point she faces the east and offers her morning prayers to Lathander.

After her prayers are finished, she walks back through the village - stopping at one house in particular to listen for any signs of life, or search for signs of recent activity - then makes her way back toward Kampo's and beyond.

Another occasional visitor who meanwhile has taken that route into her partol would be the chultan druidess and her large feline companions. Knowing some of the easteners already, she would however only greet them politely before heading her way, unless she was approached or she noticed any trouble.

The Easterners would notice the village is not completely deserted. A middle aged, Mulan man and his daughter regularly visit the cemetery, though they come from out of town. Another skittish looking woman lives in one of the abandoned buildings, keeping mostly to herself and out of the way.

One of the samurai, known as Daikiri Norio can be seen approaching the abandoned building in which the skittish woman lives, and leaving a bottle of what turns out to be Cherry Juice. A gift for their "Guest"

In addition to the cherry juice Maasuke can be seen delievering a rather large hamper of turnips, carrots and cabbage resting in a bed of daffodils and iris just within the threshold to shelt it from the rain.

The offered food and drinks are left untouched.

A man garbed with thick fur and a hood pulled over his face had started visiting the cross-road just on the outskirts of Cliffside village. He would wait there by midnight each odd date(1-3-5-7 etc). Was he waiting for something?

The clock made its chime.
Darkness filled the air.
It's three hours after nine.
And he was very scared.

Though it had been sometime since the horseman's attack and the coming and going of the Kara-Turans, a certain drow female could be seen at the Shrine gazing across the bay at Actand in deep thought. Wheels were turning in Erelkacha Kenlyls head.

For a couple of weeks now, a lone figure of warrior in red and gold armor can be seen visiting the Actand area for an hour or so, before returning back to Kampos. Sometimes it's an elf, sometimes human, but their presence around Cliffside village is regular.

Fully armed and armored the high priestess entered the remains of Actand, spattered in the dark blood of the goblins who infested the near by roadside. Calmly she strode through the near empty place her sadness and shame hidden under her war mask. A part her blamed herself and the Shrine for not helping enough, for not being there when Actands people were slaughtered. Last Winters High Hunt had seen the Shrine donate food, resources, weapons, armor and even offers of protection and to teach their warriors, but Actand in its fear of outsiders had done little more then accept the gifts. It had been their choice of course and for that she could not fault them. However the Shrine had been closest to them and if anyone on the island had a duty to protect these people it was them.

She sighed deeply and shut her eyes trying not to focus on the sense of failure that crept over her, she was drow and her emotions burned far hotter and more dangerously then most humans could understand. Melancholy and depression could become a burdensome dead weight as quickly as anger could elevate to murderous desire.

It was Shame that had taken her so long to come here, shame that had her people had let this evil bring great wrong to a place so near. Erelkacha slowly started to nail a notice to one of the ruined buildings. Her recent teaching of young converts had made her realize that holding onto emotions about feeling as if the Shrine had failed Actand was dangerous to herself and others. After a long and mournful evensong she felt it was time for her to do here what so needed to be done. With the letter posted she grimly turned and started her way back to the Shrine. The Shrine would not fail Actand again.
"Bring Violence swiftly to they who cause violence"
She mused to herself like a mantra of justice and vengeance.

To they who would stopped to read the letter baring the Seal of House Kenlyl a sword lain across a full moon the notice would read.

Dear survivors of Actand, first no amount of apologies can make up for the wrongs that have been forced upon you by the agents of Hell. Nor can any amount of words covey the deepest sorrows felt at the Shrine of Eilistraee for the great evils we were unable to prevent from harming good and innocent folk here. I do personally apologize for the deny in my response. While other members of the Shrine did come to what was the town of Cliffside my own coming has not been forthcoming and for our my lack of swiftness I am deeply shamed.

As such I hear by offer the survivors of Cliffside three things, One is a promise to consecrate this land, remove the tainted portal to the abyss for good and sever what ever remains of evils grip here. Two that the Shrine of Eilistaee offers food, lodgeing and protection to any who remain here indefinitely. Lastly that if any one who calls this place home desires a new life in a new land I will personally pay to make it happen.

My deepest condolences for your losses and my apologies for our failure to act swift enough or decisively enough to counter the evil forces that were arrayed against you.

Yours in Love and War Erelkacha Kenlyl

A hooded man left a notice beneath..

"Dear -who- of Actand?"

Coming upon the letter on one of her increasingly-rare trips to the village, a red-haired woman in full plate etched upon the chest with the symbol of Lathander frowns. She sets about penning a letter of her own, which she hand-carries to the Shrine of Eilistraee. She leaves the letter in the hands of the first person she sees (Taliira), asking it to be given to Erelkacha Kenlyl.

Ms. Kenlyl,

It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that your letter was delivered far too late to be read by its intended recipients. The two "survivors" of the village, who only survived by chance of having been away from the village when the devastation occurred, have long since said their goodbyes to their fallen kin and have moved on to an undisclosed location.

Should you require more information than this, I may be able to provide such, depending upon whatever questions you may have.

Sincerely,
Victoria Leandra

That news that folk had left cliffside was a relief to Erelkacha, though it carried a sour note, her melancholy and shame at failing to defend their home, her neighbors had lead to her attempt to make amends to come to little to late. She took a deep breath and found the steel in her soul, she was a warrior Jalil of a warrior family, steel and fire were where she retreated emotionally when things became difficult.

She calmly turned her gaze to the Bay that separated the Shrine from the abandoned ruins of Cliffside and the evil haunted region of Actand. She turned to face the a cool breeze that had the smell and taste of salt sea air. It felt good in a cold abrasive way, it reminded her that what was done was done. Cliffside was no more. However that did not mean she or the Shrine was going to be done there. She had said once she would remove the taint of evil from that land and by the ghosts of Cliffside she would do something.

The alliance with the grove had a lynchpin in cleansing Carigah that just so happened to involve banishing Everlast and shutting down Bastion for good and she had happily obliged that task. It wasn't going to be subtle, it wasn't going to be kind, it was going to be Steel and Fire.

Someone seems to have drawn chalk crosses on the doors of Cliffside's remaining houses. Perhaps they are some kind of warning.

Not so far farm Cliffside and the plane warped wilds of Actand the high priestess of the Shrine was busy, plans were in motion and the Dark Maidens faithful were preparing. . .

Erelkacha and sometimes other Shrine folk occasionally seemed to travel to Cliffsides ruins and Actand surveying them for some purpose.

On a quiet, rainy evening, a lean woman travels to what used to be the cliff village on the outskirts of Actand, shadowed by a distant, slinking shape of a cagey dog.

The narrow figure dressed in twilight investigates the abandoned, lonesome remains of where lives used to be lived, and now only hollow silence fills. One of the doors to the vacant dwellings is opened and entered. The goblins that scrounge about outside might hear the sounds of life rustling within the walls and see a candle light for the first time in months through a window fogged by grime and winter breath.

Someone, it seems, has come to dwell in the skeleton of Cliffside.

A door in Cliffside opened, but for several moments, no one moved through the passage way.

Then, the base of a long, wooden pillar slowly penetrated into the open air until the woman who carried it by the center of its balance cleared the doorway. It was laid down with care across the unused road, and the wiry figure returned to the building. Thrice more was this scene repeated until four pillars were spanning the path. Then came the arches. Finally, the central join was brought out and set amongst the wooden limbs.

As the sun made its regular movements across the partially clear sky, the frame was assembled, the components seated together and erected in front of the house. It was a minimalist affair, but tall and lean like the Disciple who would stand in the shadow of its overarching ribs, filling the emptiness between with his passion.

When the work was completed, the apprentice splayed her palm upon the pale, sanded surface of the lumber, and felt the balance of the structure as she pushed. It groaned like a tree might as it swayed to the wind, and sighed as the pressure relieved, settling back into an upright posture without the interlacing of its digits loosened. A tiny smile wound on her mouth before she broke it back down, and bound it for transportation.

A house is alight with noise, laughter and the unmistakeable sounds of family. Above the door in the second house, a sign glimmering above the door. A nude ebony form dances before a full moon and seven red stars surround the moon. Below it, the words sparkle in deep indigo: "Eilistraeen Shrine Outreach".

Every day, at sundown, the illusion (which it is) is refreshed by a female mage in deep purple and charcoal clothes, another woman at her side holding a small elven toddler.

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At the doorstep of the second house, a parcel of fresh trout is left.
A brief, soft knock upon the door might be heard, but no one is there by the time it may be answered.
The door of the western-most dwelling might be noticed shutting, however.

The woman who answers, probably the mage, judging by the clothes, takes the parcel and looks around thoughtfully. It seems that someone else being there isn't a surprise, and a note is left folded neatly and slipped under the other door.

Hello, Neighbour!

I was told by Miss Corinn of Kohlingen that you were here. If you have any need of anything, don't hesitate to ask. I look forward to seeing you, and speaking to you about what we can do to get Cliffside up and running again!

In hope,
Liress Rowa
Zran'ea d'My'afin

Another day, another trout.

For whatever reason, no note is reciprocated.

Work commences. Ditches are slowly being dug to form a new wall around the town....

As it became evident that her neighbors intended to rebuild, the waif who kept to herself save to deliver the occasional gift of food to their doorstep sent a night breaking down her habitation and packing it for travel. Some things were brought to Kampo's for storage, to be recovered later that morning, while others were hauled out to somewhere else by the armful. The woman had little, but it seemed to be comprising primarily of the materials that entered her dwelling as planks fabric, and exited it as finished furnishings, and the components of the workstation she assembled them with.

Eventually, all that was left was a small rug covered in dog fur and a food dish. As quietly as the woman had drifted into Cliffside, she drifted out with the same dog roaming after.

The southern-most building was empty again.

On her patrols in Actand, slaying bands of coastal goblins Erelkacha paused and took notice of efforts in Cliffside. A decent enough project, merchants and travelers to the frontier needed homes and it was better the ruins be salvaged and repaired than nests for monsters. Perhaps it might work and settlers might come, though Earalkacha hoped the people working here were prepared that their efforts might be for naught. After all what is a village with no people, no food, no craftsman, no resources. Sitting on the edge of a warzone with demons and angels, and surrounded by brutal goblin tribes. The very real fact was that if Cliffside couldn't be saved it was better off demolished.

The End of Cliffside

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