A new face walks into town.

[Sean Doe]

(Dated to about a week after October game)

A man, dressed in a green tunic walks into town. A blue cap thrown on his head, a scarf around his neck, and a teal half cloak about his shoulders. He's carrying a satchel, but nothing else- no weapons, no extra pouches or bags. Sean sizes up Holdfast, immediately deciding to sit in the Inn with a drink before introducing himself to some folks. He makes his way to the Watering Hole, gets a drink, gets his notebook, and scopes out to see who is around.

[Verbena Domitia]

Verbena eyes him from across the room, where she's nursing an ale. She takes in his unusual outfit, his lack of supplies, and she squints in consideration. After a moment, she stands and walks over languidly. She sets down her tankard heavily, sits down, and rolls an apple over to the newcomer.

"First time in Holdfast and you're playing on wintering over?" Verbena clicks her tongue. "Brave soul."

[Sean Doe]

Sean looks at Verbena, and takes the apple that was rolled to him. "Wintering? Oh no! I'm here for a story. Rather, storytellers. Interviews! Very professional, business only i'm afraid." He smiles, and takes a small bite of the apple.

"My name is Sean- at least, I think so! Can never be sure these days. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" Such a friendly lass. Giving him an apple, and everything. Of the things he'd heard, he'd expect people in Holdfast to be at least a bit standoffish, maybe a bit suspicious of his motives.

[Verbena Domitia]

Verbena sits up at bit straighter as he states his purpose, feeling the glow of an impending performance. Even in her battered coat and knit hat, she has the bearing of a society lady. But there's a bit of pity in her smile when she first speaks. "My dear, if you are planning on leaving Holdfast, especially at this time of year, might I suggest some supplies? Perhaps a weapon?" She shrugs. "But you're here now. And if you're looking for stories, I'm happy to oblige." She extends a hand. "Verbena of Holdfast. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[Sean Doe]

Sean laughs. "Staying? Wouldn't dream of it! I'm here to get stories, explore just a little, then head on back to Ner Batin. The Leek needs to be made, many things to do, but I can stay for a chat or two." He shakes his head. "Perhaps I had weapons before I shipwrecked here, but I can't seem to use the darn things nowadays."

"Either way! A pleasure to meet you, dear Verbena." He reaches into the bag he's carrying, pulling out a small notebook, a quill, and some ink. "I came here because a little bird told me strange things happen around Holdfast. And a paper needs news! So I figured i'd check these rumors out myself.

As my part of this, i'll be sure to provide you an issue of the Ner Batin news... should I come back." And should he find Holdfast a profitable source of income. Sean took a sip of his ale. "Now then; anything interesting happen this week?"

[Verbena Domitia]

Verbena purses her lips and considers. "Well, the stew has parsnips in it now, that's a first. The back door is sticking more than usual." She raises her eyebrows innocently. "Or perhaps you'd be more interested in the malevolent near-god, the golem, and the plague of undeath that ravaged our fair community." Verbena gives Sean her most enticing smile.

[Sean Doe]

For a moment, she had him fooled. It wouldn't be the first time rumours turned out to be something much, much more boring than the rumour. Not that he couldn't work with that, but he'd heard some stuff about Holdfast.

Then she continues. Sean fully leans onto the table. "Oh please do tell! Don't just leave it at that." He returned her smile with a wide-toothed, excited grin of his own. This sounds exactly like what he's looking for.

[Verbena Domitia]

She smiles and leans back. "Well, if you insist." The drawl with which she speaks does not hide her eagerness. "I suppose it began when the goblins arrived. You see, it was the birthday of our dear Duchess Keket, a charming girl as anyone who meets her would attest. Though a friendship with her comes with the acceptance of a her other friends: the goblins. As for myself, I must say that the goblins are more trouble than they're worth most days, but as you shall see, this week was not such an occasion." She takes a long drink and continues. "Just beyond these walls, amongst the forest paths, the goblins arrived to wish their kin a joyous birthday, and they came bearing gifts. The chaotic little creatures handed over a recipe, though not for the cake one might expect at such a celebration, oh no: this was a recipe for a golem. To be specific, a harvest golem, one they said we would need in the coming days. There was some concern that it may be a trap; goblins are known for their mischievous ways, after all. But the people of Holdfast are nothing if not recklessly curious, and they set about fulfilling the rather strange, ritualistic requirements of this recipe, gathering up pieces of fauna and flora, and arranging them as directed. Enyamaia in particular was indispensable to this effort I recall. She's a local kaern huntress, but I doubt you'll get much of an interview out of her. Regardless, there was a final ingredient that was needed in truly startling quantities: blood. But anyone who has spent time in Holdfast knows that this a resource which the citizenry is distressingly willing to provide." She gestures broadly. "Lo and behold, as the sun crept towards the horizon, a golem rose from the earth, a being of vines and leaves and life essence that gaze upon the world through a pumpkin mask. He was lead by whomever held his torch aloft, and he could be commanded to do many things: attack, heal, even engulf an ally to shield them. And as it turned out, the goblins were right: we needed him very much indeed." She pauses, raising an eyebrow at Sean and smiling coyly. "Shall I go on?"

[Sean Doe]

Sean watched her with rapt attention, only pausing every so often to write in his notebook. She has his full, undivided, attention. Even if someone else came into the tavern right now, he doubted he'd notice them enter.
"You sure know how to spin a yarn! Please, continue!" He made a note to check in with Keket or this Enyamia, provided he could find either of them.

[Verbena Domitia]

Basking in the attention, Verbena primps and continues. "While the golem was germinating, we had a rather unexpected visitor by the name of Nero. You see, we had been quite confident he wouldn't be returning to Holdfast, considering he was killed here." She stretches her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankle. "Of course, we all know that's by no means a guarantee. But we had sent him packing rather definitively. You see, he'd tried taking slaves here and the people of Holdfast don't take particularly kindly to such things. Regardless, he comes flouncing back into town flaunting some rather impressive new powers: archmagic, mind control, telepathy, apparent invulnerability, that sort of thing. He paraded his puissance about and then invited us to kneel to him." She smirks. "You can imagine how we responded to such a gracious offer." Verbena swirls the ale in her cup. "Seemingly disappointed but undeterred, Nero promised he would return that evening for some fun. As it turns out, he meant that quite literally! As the sun set, every person within the town limits was gripped by a strange but irresistible compulsion: to play a desperate, vicious game. We each seemed to have an intuitive understanding of the rules and an overpowering desire to win at all costs. We were split into teams, given pumpkins, and told that we needed to steal them from our opponents." Verbena leans forward. "And when the match began, what pandemonium! The elemental champions unleashed their full power, friends cut down friends in their mad fervor, the fallen rose again! The night deepened and the rules of the game shifted and twisted, but the ardor of the players remained constant. What delight! What horror!" Verbena knocks back the rest of her ale and sets the cup down lightly. When she speaks, her tone is lower. "Once the dust had settled, two teams were tied for victory. As we licked our wounds, Nero instructed us to select the most valuable players on our teams. The chosen individuals were Degren Brightforge, a powerful combatant and leader of the Adventurer's Guild; Ardin, a noble and principled warrior; and Willow, a new addition to our community." A hint of smugness creeps into her smile. "And of course myself, as my cunning was instrumental to our team tying for first place." The smile fades as she continues. "When Nero released us and we realized what we had been forced to do, there was a deep rage that resonated through the townsfolk. But we couldn't fight him. We were exhausted, and he a near god. He disappeared into thin air, leaving us to deal with the aftermath. At least we could finally get some rest!" Verbena raises an eyebrow at Sean. "Or... so we thought."

[Sean Doe]

He continued listening, writing in his notebook. After she was through, for the moment anyways, he interjected "The elemental champions? I'm not sure what ya mean by that? Who are they?" Maybe he could ask these 'champions' a few questions. What turned out to be a vague rumor was certainly turning into a rabbithole! Even if this champion business sounded like some magical bullshit.

He followed up. "Well, i'm certainly talking to the right person if you're at the center of this! I assume I can find Degren at that big building I can see through the trees?" He asked, getting up to take a glance through the window. "Do you know where I can find Ardin or this Willow?" He asked. It was always good to have more sources.

[Verbena Domitia]

"Oh, the champions. They're selected by the elemental lords to protect circles of power within the town. Let's see, at the moment we have Ardin Gallagher, Auron Warfield, Asher Fairchild, and Jaya..." She frowns, thinking. "Come to think of it, I don't know that Jaya has a last name." She shrugs. "Anyway, you would indeed find Degren in the stone building. They call it the Citadel. Willow frequents this inn, wait long enough and I'm sure you'll see her. As for Ardin, he fucked off into the woods in a paroxysm of self-pity and it's anyone's guess where he's gone." She takes a long sip of ale, mood clearly soured. She shakes her head to clear it. "But I digress. Where was I? Ah yes, after the games...
"It wasn't long before I began to feel unwell: tired, achy, feverish, you know the sort of thing. Now a mild autumn illness is nothing terribly out of the ordinary, no real cause for concern. But I quickly realized that I was not the only one feeling it. Ardin too was visibly ill. When Willow was added to the list, we concluded that the illness seemed to be afflicting only the most valuable players of each team. Sure enough, Degren came to the inn as well, suffering like the rest of us. Little did we know it was only the beginning.
"Over the next hour, the pain deepened, the fever soared, and the exhaustion overwhelmed us. We were laid upon the floor of the inn, too weak to hold ourselves up any longer. Shivering, sweating, gasping, seeing impossible things... After a point, all I can recall is flashes. There was nothing to be done." For a moment, the bravado of her storytelling mask flickers, revealing something underneath. Something... fearful? Haunted? But as quickly as it came, it's gone. She continues, leaning back. "The next thing I know, I'm opening my eyes to the sight of Lillium weeping above me. I'm not only alive, but feeling in the bloom of health but for one thing: a lack of a heartbeat." She snorts. "I suppose 'alive' might not be the correct choice of word. 'Undead' might be better. And this awakening was accompanied by a hunger, a hunger shared by my newly risen compatriots; nothing could have possibly satisfied us more in that moment than the flesh of humanfolk and fey."
"The rest is a bit of a blur, really. We were tough and bolstered by magic, and before many knew what was happening the townsfolk fell and rose again like the tide, undead beings under our control. We were going to build a new Holdfast, an eternal one..." Verbena sounds almost wistful, before appearing to catch herself. "At least, that was how we thought at the time. We were not acting of our own will, you see."
She takes a sip of ale. "In the end, the harvest golem proved its worth: having been killed, its remains could be brewed into a potion to put the undead to rest." She chuckles. "Lexicus, the elven book mage, was the hero of the night. Very dramatic, sneaking about in the shadows, cloaked and hooded. A welcome change of pace for him, I imagine, considering his usual routine of dying once the action begins." She thinks. "All told, there couldn't have been more than ten alive once the hordes were silenced. Though I couldn't give you the exact count, given that I was dead." Her focus drifts again, but only briefly. She snaps back to attention with a winning smile.
"Which brings us to Sunday morning! From what I was told, Nero flounced back into town again, demanding that the sorry band of survivors kneel in order to restore the dead to true life. The warrior Krond Thuliaga was the only one who complied, and his noble actions ensured the resurrection of the dozens lost. And as for the rest, well - given their actions after the catastrophe, it's hardly a leap of logic to declare the entire fiasco their fault." She curls her lip contemptuously, then blinks. "Apologies. Nero instilled a lingering sense of blame and resentment in the minds of the former undead towards those who chose not to kneel. I can acknowledge that the feeling is nonsense, yet I cannot feel otherwise. The nature of mind control, you see." She shrugs.
"And I suppose... Well, I suppose that's it!" She grins. "An eventful weekend, though fairly run-of-the-mill for Holdfast if I'm being entirely honest." She quirks an eyebrow. "You'll not want for stories should you choose to stay. You'll want for many, many things, but not stories." She downs the rest of her drink. "Any questions?"

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