Characters in this post
View character profile for: Yrsa Gierdmonsson
View character profile for: Darai the Grand
View character profile for: General Stavenge (NPC)
Silent Night (Part 3)
[Warfall Village, Night]
As quick as she could carry herself Darai was in a full on sprint to find the General. She had to warn the militia about Blackwood, the other she could handle. Whatever was going to end up there was much more threatening than that of what the village itself would receive.
As she ran after she saw his figure moving calmly through down the path until it vanished. She finally rounded the alley where the large man had been pushed into by another large being. Of course to her anybody was tall, but these folks really hit the mark.
When she turned to see him she was out of breath and he was being held against a shadowy wall with a blade to his throat. The perpetrator must've caught a glance of the small woman and eased her weapon to her side with hesitation.
If Darai interrupted she didn't care. "General, Blackwood needs aid. The whole militia! Send them as quick as you can and let them know they haven't faced something like this for..." Darai took a large breath. They hadn't really ever faced something like what was in her vision, had they? "It's dark, evil." Her voice was ever so demanding and frantic.
"A vision?" He asked, concerned.
Yrsa examined the Prophet with disgust. Visions. The robes. She had the look to her. A damned magic user.
"And they don't lie." Stavenge moved forward and the confused Yrsa had backed off now, but the man laid his hand on her shoulder and whispered in the tongue.
"Your enemies lie elsewhere. Do not be a stranger. The militia could use your aide." Soon as he finished she threw his hand off and spit in Darai's direction.
"I don't take orders from little witch or big fool." She jabbed the dagger back into her boot.
He moved away and nodded to the Prophet as he moved hurriedly past to warn his militia. Darai's gaze followed him and she looked back to the strange woman in full furs and leather but she was nowhere to be seen. The gnome turned and looked around at the village winding down for the night, folks closing up their shops and heading for a drink, then to bed. They had no clue.
But she could feel the looming timer ticking away. The sand emptying into the bottom half of the hourglass. She stepped from the alley to begin her trek back to town square.
She shifted her beady eyes to that of the bell where the town crier or that damned crow always perched and in a flick of her fingers the brass bell rang. Once. Twice. Three times. The third was a confirmation, a warning. The village was under threat and everyone needed to move indoors. The chiming echoed and the townsfolk dropped everything they were doing, attention caught.
Her voice called into the night as low thunder rumbled above in a crystal-clear sky. "Everyone get inside, this is your last warning!"