Ordim writes about Brother of Sacred Fury in Icemule
A Brother of the Sacred Fury interacts with folks in Icemule. Here’s Ordim’s letter back home … and the log. The V’Tullian order seems very concerned.
Category: Towns
Topic: Icemule TraceDate: 09/28/2016 12:20 AM CDTFrom: JOEKUPSSubj: A letter back homeOrdim sat on a small crate in the makeshift tavern in “Base Camp” as it had been come to be called. Sitting in the shadow of a floating City held by giant chains, its name would always pale in comparison.
It had been a long night and he knew many more were to come. He shuffled about his satchel and pulled out a few bits of parchment and reached up to his ear for his quill.
“Almost lost you, didn’t I!” He giggled at the blue quill as he set about writing a letter to his friends back in Solhaven.
It has been a few days that I have been up in Icemule, investigating the city we now know as Reim. But that is not what I write home about today, it is actually a strange human monk, of V’tull no less. That I had the experience to run into. Did you know they get so hungry they eat their own tongues? Me neither! But they do.
I never did catch the man’s name, but I ran into him as the sky was light up in a fire most unnatural. Bits of fire fell down and smoldered around town while most milled about, trying to ignore the near cataclysm happening around them. But this young man, dressed in pale scarlet cambric robes and tattooed with a blood red teardrop sat wounded in the town center. He has bruises about his face and head, his hands bled fresh on old scars. His bright amber eyes contrasted against his pale skin, but complimented his amber hair.
A few around the town had heard cries of murder, and that a nasty brawl had occurred in the tavern. The young man was very nervous, but did not flee. I asked him what was wrong and he attempted to speak, but revealed that he had eaten his tongue in a ravenous hunger that the tavern could not abate. This clearly was the cause of the scuffle that set his tale in motion, the fire I am not sure of. Though there was claims from an elder Truefolk lady about the possible return of a Thurfel, the one I’ve heard of controlling great magics.
But this is not about magics, this is about writing. I write to you about what was written to me!
Friends, this hungry monk had a story to tell me, as I asked him if he was learned in writing and he nodded. So I handed him some parchment and my favorite quill to communicate.
He told me that his brothers were expecting him, that he was delayed in returning back to his order due to a misunderstanding about his hunger at the tavern.
When I asked if he would like help explaining this to the local law he became concerned so I dropped the matter.
He further went on to explain that he was from the “Order of The Sacred Fury” But not the Sacred fire, which he was very concerned to see in the sky, because we all know fire doesn’t belong in the sky. It belongs in the ovens, making muffins, or heating water for tea. Or maybe even on a troll or ogre. But not in the sky, no not fire.The young man further explained what the Order of Sacred Fury was, it is apparently an order dedicated to V’tull. A mad man who enjoys the battle, and eating tongues. He went on to explain, before he so rudely ran off with my quill, that the head of his order would be stopping into Icemule in two nights time to explain why they get so hungry they eat tongues, why they are so concerned with the fire in the sky (and maybe why no one else seems to be so worried about it!) and maybe to even recruit more monks into the order. He wasn’t very specific other than to say he could be identified by the tear drop tattoo.
The young man ran off in a hurry at this point, perhaps fearing his hunger would force him to eat his lips, and he ran off with my quill! My only and favorite quill! Well, I mulled about and gathered some friends to take with me to the city of Reim and while doing so the constable came marching through with that poor tongue lacking monk in chains! Luckily the Constable came back a bit later to get some stuff he dropped and wouldn’t you know it, he had my quill! I guess he didn’t know how amazing it really was because he picked his teeth with it and dropped it carelessly on the ground.
So far the end is writing better than it ever has before so I guess I should pick my teeth with it more often too. Icemule sure is cold and with the events of tonight just as plagued with religious zealots as Solhaven and Vornavis seems to be. I miss you all and will be home by the end of the week.
Ordim Nomears,
Muncher of Muffins, Diviner of Dachres, The Seer.
OOC – A truncated log of the events without Ordim’s inaccuracies(?) The responses were written on the parchment. I missed a lot of the beginning, hopefully someone can fill it in.
Civinch glances around in fear.
Civinch carefully watches the road that leads to the inn.
You see Brother Civinch.
He appears to be a Human.
He is average height and appears to be very young. He has bright amber eyes and pale skin. He has cropped, amber hair swept back from the temples. He has a long face, a long nose and heavy jowls.
He has a blood red teardrop tattoo on his neck.
He has some minor cuts and bruises on his right hand, a bruised left eye, and minor bruises about the head.
He has old battle scars on his right hand.
He is wearing a pale scarlet cambric robe, a small leather pouch, and some hide-wrapped sandals.Civinch turns to Jennora and opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it.
One last fireball splatters on the pavement stones nearby, leaving a puddle of crimson flames.
Whill whispers, “We heard screams and then someone shouted Killer. Then he shows up.”
Civinch stares at the fiery clouds above.
An old halfling woman hobbles past, staring at the sky. “Can it be, after all these years?” she mutters. “Can Thurfel have returned?” She hurries off to find shelter, obviously terrified.
Civinch gently dabs at the bruises on his face.
Speaking to Civinch, you ask, “Are you alright ?”
Civinch frowns.
Civinch begins to speak again, this time he reveals the jagged stump of a tongue before closing his mouth again.
Speaking to Civinch, you ask, “Can you write ?”
Civinch nods.
I need to go… the brothers will expect me… the constable..
A pair of young halfling toughs walks by. One of them says, “Awful bloody brawl at the Penguin earlier. Hear they just got it cleaned up.” Noticing Civinch, he starts pointing and whispering to his friend, who drags him bodily away with a look of sheer horror.
No, I need to go… back to my brothers.
Speaking to Civinch, you ask, “And where is that ?”
Do you not see the fire?
Civinch opens his mouth and reveals the jagged stump of a tongue.
The fire….The Sacred Fury… the fire…
Civinch taces his tattoo.
We are the brothers of the Sacred Fury.
We are Monks of V’Tull. The fire.. is not ours.. it is wrong.
The fire is not natural.
Civinch opens his mouth and wiggles his stump of a tongue.
The head of our order….. he will be coming.
Speaking to Civinch, you ask, “What does he look like and … I take it he wont be happy ?”
The head of our order will be here in two nights time.
Civinch rubs his teardrop tattoo.
He will be here then…. he can tell you more.
no healing… the pain… is good
Civinch looks around before running off.
The constable rushes through. He drags the tongueless monk along. The monk’s hands are shackled and he has a fresh wound to the temple.