Open Chronicles A Fire In the Distance

[Amon Valderama]

The rolling hills kept a village out of sight well enough for a group to settle down in and not be disturbed. It also kept some villages hidden by natural rises and falls in the land, making cartography a right pain. This particular village hadn't been heard from in near months time, and Amon wasn't typically one to let an opportunity go to waste.

The band of mercenaries set up in the woods outside the village, their leader taking a pair of fighters with him. Swords and crossbows, bucklers for defense instead of the heavy shields that others had at the camp. The ringed circles of tents around campfires had those assembled keeping watch with ease while others set about usual campfire business.

Boiling water, preparing food, others tending to the fletching of their arrows. Those capable checking swords and others checking the leather straps across shields and armor. No time was spent idle for the moment as they awaited their leaders return. Archers sat behind those standing watch, eyes scanning the treeline they had cut down for firewood as bardiche armed men moved in a patrol.

---

Amon and his pair entered the town, surprised at the deserted nature before them. It wasn't a large town by any means, not comparable to Vel Anir or even the outlying places of Alliria in terms of population. But it was a trade line, one that should have had a few stall owners poking their heads out at the sound of hooves falling in their road.

It was deathly quiet though.

An eerie sort of wind howled through the main road as they passed house after house. Shudders closed as they passed, a curious gaze spared for them as the duo beside him kept looking about them for trouble. His had came up to scratch his brow, befuddled at the lack of people before finally reaching the well in the crossroad of the place.

A child was drawing a bucket up, acting as though they had been caught doing something wrong when Amon whistled to get their attention.

"What's happening here in town to be so desolate, young one?" He finally asked. Young eyes wandered over the armored bodies beside him, a klapvisor over one and a hounds helm over another with plate armor sparsely covering the thick gambesons they wore. One hand on the rein, the other grasping the hilt of their arming swords as they waited for the answer.

His fingers snapped, drawing their attention away from his escort with an expectant look.

"A sickness, mi'lord. Everyone is bed ridden save a few." They spoke quietly, glancing between the houses before looking up to Amon with an almost pleading look. The mans eyes mimicked the sad frown he had formed about him.

"Then take care and get back to those you are trying to help." He spoke softly, before a small hesitating breath cut into the moment. "This...sickness. Spreads quickly? Boils or some such?" The confirming nod had him deciding his course of action.

"Then make haste home, and ease their suffering as best able." The young one scampered off as Amon pulled his horse around and motioned for the pair to follow.

"Get everyone rounded up, heavy logs cut and torches made. The town carries a plague. We cannot let it spread, not even to the market." He spoke quietly when they drew close enough to hear.

---

The evening in camp was spent quickly, all a busy body as everything was made ready for the nights work to begin. Cloth was cut for makeshift masks, sage gathered and worn around the neck to stave off the future scent. Masks were dunked in water, adorned as those assigned to the task of moving logs worked in their everyday clothes. Logs blocked doorways, and sharp sticks were placed outside of windows as they worked.

Armored bodies waited outside town, a pair of weapons backed up by archers at the roads leading in to ward off would be passer-bys. Amon sat just outside the town, waiting by the road they had entered on as the men worked. He waited patiently for the work to be done, and speak with those assigned to their next task.

 

[Kthell]

The road was lonely as he waited for confirmation that preparations had been made and checked. There was a stillness to the air, as it seemed even the local fauna dare not approach the village while the mercenaries did their work. Or perhaps they had given the village a wide berth for some time, knowing instinctually that a plague had befallen its residents. Who could really say?

With this eerie peace and avoidance, it was all the stranger for a lone cat to be wandering towards the village through the trees. The mouser sauntered with a confident purpose, black and golden-eyed and collared. A still bird rested in its blood-stained mouth.

As it approached, it paused to watch Amon sitting there by his lonesome, only a few yards away. Its ears perked, tilting towards the dwellings and the grunt work, and its eyes shifted in interest. The cat lowered the bird to the ground and licked its lips before returning its attention to Amon.

“You,” it said in a feminine, echoing voice. “State your business.”

It was a demand, not a request.

[Edit: Name pulled a different user - updated for ping! Sorry for the confusion, Amon Valderama ]​

 

[Cassidy Ackerson]

"Man, is this really the right place? Looks almost deserted. Maybe I was supposed to turn left at that gnoll camp..."

A lone figure wrapped in an old duster coat travelled independently towards the town, seemingly totally unaware of the danger he was headed towards. His hand was buried in a head of fiery red hair, and his gaze fixed confusedly at a scrap of paper clutched tightly between his fingers. It was a map, albeit a crudely drawn one. A black tabby cat lay lazily across his shoulders, peering down at the paper with him.

Cassidy Ackerson didn't look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to work. When most of your jobs involved throwing yourself into danger for the sake of somebody else, a simple 'go here and find this' assignment sounded like it'd be a nice change of pace. Even if things went south, as long as he had Damascus at his side he wasn't particularly worried about his safety.

He bit his bottom lip as the town came further and further into view. No, it wasn't as empty as it had looked. But what he saw instead of townsfolk worried him even more. It looked like they were arranging a formation to keep people out of the damned place, and he counted a few archers here and there. No doubt there were more men waiting not far off.

Ackerson feels a rather annoyed grumble bubble up from his throat, and the feline on his shoulder nuzzles his cheek in response, as if trying to assuage his worries. "This smells. The reward is pretty big, but I don't know if I like the odds of me cutting through all of that. I mean, it's possible with Damascus, but even with him at my side those are some slim odds."

He had a habit of talking to Mar, even though he knew the cat couldn't respond. Turning to look at his feline companion, she seemed to be staring off into the distance at something else. Whatever it was, Cassidy couldn't see what she was staring at. "You alright, Mar? What do you see, girl?"