Vile Shadows

Stopover in Inginmoor
Eiremis' Journal

Nymm 17, 1423

Late Afternoon

I have finally made it to Inginmoor after one month’s march from Zede’s home. I arrived shortly after noon and, having read the notices posted just outside of town, have come to the conclusion that the locals are not terribly fond of arcanists. As such, I will have to make sure I keep my powers hidden from the public eye. If the general paranoia and spurn of the local church were not enough, there have been several mysterious disappearances throughout the town. Which, inevitably, the church will blame on some arcane occurance ignited by some villainous being masquerading among us. I would rather not be burned at the stake if I can help it.

I have arranged for a room here at the local inn. I did not see a sign outside, so I am unsure of the place’s name. Nevertheless, it is a nice place, considering they are only charging me eight silvers for a warm bed and a good meal each day. I will probably spend a few days here at the very least—long enough to catch up on my sleep and get a few real meals in my stomach for a change.

-Eir

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Welcome to Inginmoor
Before you there are several notices posted on the town greeting sign....

Inginmoor is a small crossroad town that is frequent to traders and merchants traveling between city-states and Estus. There are several notices on the town’s greeting sign. Some appear to have been there for awhile but one seems brand new. You get closer to investigate the notes… (As of now there is a 90% likelihood of the campaign beginning in this town. You would most likely be traveling and have stopped here, or come up with another reason and let me know.)

Welcome to Inginmoor

Attention: Important notice for all newcomers

First off, if ye be an elf, dwarf, or caliban, yer best off jus’ heading back the way you came. The town don’t want nothing to do with your kind, so YER NOT WELCOME! Secondly, if you happen to dabble in the dark arts of magic don’ be showing yer fancy powers off here. Those from the church of Lenus already condemn it, so we don’t want any trouble brought upon the town. Third, if you are a priest or something along them lines, we really don’t need ya preaching to us about it, so keep yer religion to yerself.

Warning to travelers

There have been reports of bandits harassing some of the merchants and traders traveling the roads to Friedland and Pampenos. If yer traveling with goods or expensive things, watch yerself out there. The town doesn’t have the capabilities to clear the roads. Take it up with Friedland and Pampenos.

WARNING

CAREFUL WHEN TRAVELING AT NIGHT! A FEW OF THE TOWNSPEOPLE HAVE GONE MISSING! SOME PEOPLE HAVE BEEN TAKEN FROM THEIR HOMES! THOSE MISSING WERE LAST SEEN ON THE STREETS DURING LATE HOURS! THERE HAVE BEEN NO CLUES AS TO WHAT THE CAUSE COULD BE, BUT AN INVESTIGATION IS UNDERWAY!

Population – 983

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The Day the Storm Began
Side-Story Event

Eyre 29, 1423

Dark clouds covered the midday sun as thunder roared overhead and the heavy rain crashed against his as he knelt there in the grass. The red cloak he wore was soaked with water and barely covering his shoulders. His black hair was wet and stuck defiantly against his face as the water dripped down the wet tracks formed on his cheeks. Lightning arched out from the dark gray clouds hovering in the sky, as though they were threatening him. The thunder grumbled angrily once more in the distance as he slowly rose up from his kneeling position.

Casting his dark green eyes toward the clouds, he pleaded silently to the storm, asking it to take his life so that he could see her again. A bolt of blue lashed out from the cloud, crashing into the soggy field in front of him. “Please,” he muttered, stretching his arms out to his sides. The silver ring he wore on his left ring finger glinted brightly despite the storm as he pleaded again, with all his heart. The storm struck again, this time a little closer. He closed his eyes and waited for the next bolt to take him. A weak smile crept onto his face as he remembered the way she smiled at him. He remembered every minute he had spent with her since her father had taken him in, treating him as his though he were his own son. He recalled the day when he had first asked her to dinner. He thought of the first time they had made love. He could clearly see in his mind the look on her face when he asked her to marry him. He stood this way for what seemed like an hour, but the lightning refused to strike him down.

Tears welling in his eyes, he roared at the storm, “Take my life, damn you! I don’t want it anymore!” His voice grew silent and full of dread, “I can’t live this way. Not without her.” His rage overtook him. Opening his eyes as wide as he could, he thrust his palms skyward. “Kill me!” he demanded, calling upon his mastery of the arcane to force the storm into action. He gouged at the sky with his fingertips, ripping a bolt of lightning from the heart of the clouds above and wrenched it toward himself, only to have it strike just a few feet in front of him. He tried again and again until he was too exhausted to even be frustrated.

As he lay there, gritting his teeth and holding back his tears, the sky began to clear and he could hear something. It was a very familiar melody. It took only a few moments for him to realize that the sound was coming from his coat pocket. Reaching inside, he found a small music box. It was playing a gentle tune. The same tune that Branwen had hummed to him so many times before. In the back of his mind, he could hear her soft voice speaking to him, “Don’t give up so easily, Eiremis. It’s unbecoming of you.”

He eyes hurt from the strain of holding them open and his heart was pounding. He looked around frantically, trying to make himself believe that Branwen was near him, but she was nowhere to be found. At last, his eyes came to rest upon a familiar form. It was a raven with a scar across its right eye. The same raven he’d seen the night Branwen was murdered. It pecked at the ground, pausing only long enough to return Eiremis’ gaze. Eiremis rose to his feet and took a step toward it, only for it to lock gazes with him and fly away.

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