Farmer's Market Burns Down

[Atmosphere]

A recent rural attack on a farmers market has placed fear and hunger among the local commoners of Sundren. Bodies of women, children, and men alike were spread out among the dead along with their cattle, fruits, wheat, and pies that they brought to sell. A high majority of the scene was burnt down and on the charred farmers market sign were the words "Fear The Black Hand."

The Temple of Umberlee in Port Avanthyr has opened their doors to all those that have suffered from this act. A fresh portion of seafood is offered to all those willing to listen to the the might of the Bitch Queen and give her praise.

[Machiavelli]

Upon hearing of the carnage, the elf Erishkigal shakes his head in disgust and mutters to himself.

"That is not how it's done. Amateurish and overly violent. Vile and pathetic! Bah."

[grant]

Nati stops and listens to the story then sighs and mumbles to her self, "Fools, you can not convert the dead", she grins slightly, "and to forget their pain it will not be your tyrant the living pray to."

[Kajae]

Among the survivors and families to have suffered a loss there visits a scruffy young man bearing a shovel. He would offer his condolences, if he knew what they were, but leaves each with a few comforting words and a runty potato.

[Nwilmen]

By the time word has reached Aquor, Priya Sera makes hasty arrangements with the temple of Sune. She arrives to the area bearing as much bandages, medicines, and other provisions that she can carry. The rest of her day and night is spent comforting the survivors and trying to allay fear, as well as administering what healing she can and helping widows and their children clean the bodies of the dead.

[Atmosphere]

Some time passes...

Those who showed up to purchase from the farmers market came to witness nothing but flame and death. Those being mostly brewers, butchers, and bakers. And some just being regular commoners and cooks. There are no witnesses or at least none that have spoken up. The few local (non-tradesmen) have either left to The Temple of Umberlee or back to their own homes.

Some time passes...

The families and friends of those who have been killed are found in mourning at the scene. One women trembles with mixed emotions as she has lost both a husband and a son, tears pour from her eyes.

Among the survivors and families to have suffered a loss there visits a scruffy young man bearing a shovel. He would offer his condolences, if he knew what they were, but leaves each with a few comforting words and a runty potato.

There were no survivors. As the scruffy young man gives his condolences, a man offers to buy his shovel to bury the dead. A homeless beggar continually asks for the potato and follows the scruffy young man around in an annoying manner.

By the time word has reached Aquor, Priya Sera makes hasty arrangements with the temple of Sune. She arrives to the area bearing as much bandages, medicines, and other provisions that she can carry. The rest of her day and night is spent comforting the survivors and trying to allay fear, as well as administering what healing she can and helping widows and their children clean the bodies of the dead.

There were no survivors. As Priya Sera arrives she finds that there is no use for her bandages and medicines. But her words comfort those who mourn the death of their loved ones. All the bodies are burnt to various degrees and a high majority are unable to be cleaned properly.

[nezzerscape]

Yod, simply states "it was not me"... (login to see pic http://www.sundren.org/forum/album.p...&pictureid=273)

[Kajae]

There were no survivors. As the scruffy young man gives his condolences, a man offers to buy his shovel to bury the dead. A homeless beggar continually asks for the potato and follows the scruffy young man around in an annoying manner.

The scruffy young man actually does the burying himself, where permitted, mentioning something about needing to keep his job despite apparently doing the work for free.

The beggar is left with a warm crockery pot of stewed cabbage and turnips.

[Redjack]

The skeleton wordlessly drops the parchment onto the desk, makes a snappy salute, then clatters out the doorway into the hallways of the citadel. Clive glowers at the message for a moment before unrolling it and flattening it on his marble desktop to read.
Eyes flash in fury and hissing, he crumples the parchment and flings it across the room where it bounces off the back of a sleeping imp perched on a bookshelf. Startled awake, the imp squawks a curse as it takes to the air and flaps clumsily through the archway leading out to Clive's balcony over looking the burning rivers surrounding the Citadel of the Seven.
Clive leaps to his feet and heads down the stone halls to demand some explanations. As he stalks through the citadel, slaves human and undead alike drop to their knees and inferiors bow deeply then move out of the way of the infuriated vampire.
Reaching his destination Clive snaps his fingers at the backs of the robed figures gathered around the black marbled altar. The priests turn glaringly until they realize who dared to interrupt their prayers.

One robed priest speaks up, "Higher Doom!" How may we serve?"

"Who ordered an attack on farmers market!" "What nonsense is this!" Clive snarls back. "Surely the Imperceptor would not order such meaningless slaughter!"

The priest's silently look at each other confounded.
"Well don't stand there looking like the idiots you are! Go find out who is responsible for this action. I want to know who did this and what they expected to gain. Whether the Black Hand, allies or enemies!

The priests scatter.

[Fezzik]

During the following few days, a tall, compassionate looking woman with greyish blonde hair, dressed in her traditional Blue dress keeps an eye on the local markets around Sestra, reassuring the farmers and others there that they are protected, and that the acts committed by the black hand prove their cowardly nature. Attacking innocents to promote fear instead of attacking their guardians, whom they obviously fear themselves.

[Doubtful]

"Bullies. That's all they are. Terrorising those least capable of defending themselves. They aught to be ashamed."

"Course they are, tyrants aren't they. I'd image it's pretty hard to go around tyrannising people stronger than you. They'd be on a hiding to nothing trying that."

"They still aught to be ashamed. I mean what had those farmers done? What's so bad about good quality vegetables?"

"Good quality?"

"Well, middling quality then. What's so bad about that? Be fine in a stew."

"Or a bin."

"What?"

"Besides, I don't think it was the produce they were after. Probably trying to send some kind of message."

"Like, Fear the Black Hand you mean? And what did you say about my veg?"

"Fear the Black Hand. Guess that didn't work for the last lot, so I doubt it'll work for anyone really."

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, I'd wager a night out with your wife that that last bunch who got killed were pretty scared of the Black Hand, right? At least they probably were by half way through. You don't watch a bunch of your mates and loved ones get massacred by a bunch of lunatics without suffering from some level of fear and terror, right?"

"My wife?"

"But by killing everyone they've undone any fear. They've left no survivors with tales of horror, no descriptions of what they did. See, fear works best when it can works hand in hand with doubt. But by killing everyone they're removed doubt. Essentially they're saying 'Don't worry about the Black Hand; they'll kill you no matter what'. It's a poor line."

"Ted."

"Yes?"

"You don't half talk some shite."

The two men fall quiet as the Blue Grace passes, they nod and mumble something suitably polite and humble, then watch her as she moves off into the crowd.

"She's got a cracking arse."

"You stay the hell away from my wife Ted."

[GodBeastX]

The priests of Kelemvor offer their aid to the families of those massacred, and also arrange funeral services for the departed.

Somewhere deep within a long aged crypt a single mummified skeleton in priestly vestments pens within a book various names, speaking a single sentence.

"One step closer to the end of all things..."

[Sir Kharn]

Kharn Brokenanvil surveys the recently filled graves with sadness and anger, sadness at the life lost and anger for not being there to protect them. As he walks among the graves he stops and slowly sinks to his knees removing his holy symbol. Holding the heavy brass symbol in his clenched fist he slams it into the ground and begins to pray "In the name of Gorm Gulthyn I do consecrate this ground, by his light let none defile this place so those that lie beneath may find peace eternal" A pulsing warmth spreads down his arm to his holy symbol and then outwards into the ground and he rise's up taking a bottle of holy water from a pouch, flicking the cork off and placing his thumb over the end of the bottle so that only a trickle may escape.
Swinging his arm back and forth over the graves he repeats his prayer over each one making sure that all those that lost their lives are protected by the newly consecrated graveyard.
Sadly he looks around, his work done he grips the haft of his axe and strides of in the direction of the city and vows to avenge this massacre.

[RPMike17]

A short distance behind the Blue Grace a hearty wood elf follows, his hands continuously clenching and unclenching his sheathed blades. A slight smell of sweet rum wafts in his wake. He would also speak of protection, although in a more vengeful tone than the blond-grey haired woman. He would continuously watch the crowd around her, profiling....

... The two men fall quiet as the Blue Grace passes, they nod and mumble something suitably polite and humble, then watch her as she moves off into the crowd.

"She's got a cracking arse."

"You stay the hell away from my wife Ted."

He would pause at the comment, cast a glance in the man's direction, then take out a flask and sip. Offering it to the two men, he would smile slightly. "'Tis what caught my eye too friend, but... 'twas her heart that captured me. She gives all she has for us," looking around the crowd, "and you should be heeding her words, since she is trying to help you keep your not-so-cracking-arse in one piece." At this he would wink, and chuckle warmly.

[Doubtful]

The two men look slightly confused.

"Yeah mate. Right"

After a sip of the drink the two men return to their business. Wondering to themselves whether the elf winked or not; if he would but couldn't, would and did, or simply would if the stars were right.