Iona's Curse

[Miz]

Towns and villages always had their own wards and rituals. Etzil knew several from his home village. But the power of the spell casted was unexpected. As the elder waved off the ritual, receiving an oath from Seric and a kiss from Eliza, Etzil could feel the magical energy emanating from their bodies. The created energy though wasn't roaring like a fire or boisterous like a gust of wind. Instead it was a radiant warmth like sunlight. Their bodies glistening in the unseen forces around them.


The feeling was peaceful but it wasn't tranquility. Etzil hadn't felt tranquility in magic since he encountered the wise Druids of Swyndell. It took a few seconds, but Etzil pinpointed the mood: it was compassion.


The two after receiving the ritual turned to meet Etzil and the knight. "When do we leave?" Eliza asked.


"Eager are we?" said Sir Romus, raising an eyebrow.


"We are all eager," Etzil said. "Who knows what time we have to reverse the damages done?" Etzil began to take his staff and traced a small circle. It wasn't a magical circle or anything like that. It was just a habit he possessed when he was thinking. The crowds of people around his volunteers, some were displaying signs of hope, others had despair.


It made sense to Etzil. This was their village, their children. Now he was going to take more of them into danger. Looking up from his drawing to face the crowd. "However, no future matter can be solved if the past ones are left undone." Etzil turned to the three volunteers of varying ages and skills. "We will depart tomorrow at sunrise. There is no point to start our travels in darkness. While we rest tonight, be careful of what you do and say, for this might be the last you look upon your village of Byfox." Etzil was now looking specifically at Seric now when he spoke this. "I can assure you that even if we don't risk our physical lives, none of you will not be the same when we return. So for better or for worse, leave no pressing matter that might distract your resolve or your conscious. Think of this night as your final on this very earth."

OOC

we might be able to end this scene here. However the next Scene can either us being leaving or Seric dealing with his family. All is possible, speaking I can play Tristan

 

[Esme]

With a look of grim seriousness at the situation, Seric nodded. Folding his arms across his chest he for once refused to let his pride get the better of him. He knew Etzil was right, he might never come back to this town. Very well might not, if he was honest. The cost of what he had offered himself up to do for the sake of his village and his sanity, was that of his family's. His mother wouldn't care, worry, maybe, but that would pass. Tristan however...


His frown deepened as he gave a semi salute to the wizard and knight, followed with a short good evening. As he turned back towards home, he knew he wouldn't be cutting fields to save time. He needed words to chose, phrasings to work with. Seric knew that ultimately he would leave, but the items piling into that would be....messy at best.


"Perhaps he'll understand. Who knows, I'll be following Dad after all. No, I'm not going to be that lucky, I can hear it now," Seric mumbled to himself as he walked. " Dad was trained, he had years of experience, he knew what he was doing. Well if they let me do more than till hay, I would too!"


His rant continued as he walked, and he wasn't sure if he was working himself more into a calm state o mind or a fury of a conversation that never happened. Stopping at the small dirt path that lead to the front door, he looked looked. In the doorway was Tristan, arms folded and a stern look on his face.


"I'm going."

 

[Miz]

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Scene 3 - The Night-time Meeting

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The night was cold for the season, beckoning images of winter. If Etzil didn't know any better, he would expect a chilling rain or snow to fall from the sky. Instead, the wizard understood that the low clouds clinging to the ground was likely a symptom of the curse placed on the land. The children transforming and the well water turning black were only a portion of the spell's effects facing Byfox. These other effects were subtler, but were all the more present in the villagers' daily lives: the dirt was blighted, the crops were withering, and even Etzil was receiving malicious dreams.


It all left him pondering. What could have possibly motivated such a crime. The curse was not something spun by a vengeful village hag or a nefarious goblin. This was far more powerful. It cried of something demonic, vampiric, something from legends. Yet it had none of those tendencies. Everything Etzil felt or sensed actually had a quality of organized magic to it. Supernatural, yes, but it felt like these effects were purposeful. Etzil's thoughts traveled to myths of Necromancers and other evils. However he knew no way to stop such forces. Especially with the small group of volunteers he possessed. Admittedly, he might have to accept defeat. Something a wizard wasn't exactly happy to do.


Still - he thought to make do what with he had. His concerns for the moment were with the well-being for those who traveled with him. The consent of the knight and the huntsman into his group did not make him lose sleep. They were trained for an adventure in the wilderness. Years of experience, possibly even more than Etzil's share of adventures. The young adults though, Eliza and Seric, made him worry. He'd hate to have blood on his hands.


Youth was always impulsive, always impressionable. So with this night, Etzil decided to ensure in privacy that the two village youths truly desired to go with him. He would take their answers as sincere but wouldn't judge them for refusing to depart.


Arriving at the humble estate of Seric's family, he was dressed in his green robe and large wizard's hat. He knocked softly at the front-door, somehow managing to get through the front-gate without the use of magic.