Act I:
Sounds in the ashes
As the last days of autumn started to fade away and as the cold whispers of winter began to creep into the minds of all, a band of Inquisitors fell upon the outskirts of the City of Ash at dawn. They stayed just inside the tree-line a few hundred yards away from the walls, while their eyes looked on in horror and wonder at what has befallen it. Death and decay danced across the fields as the sight of mangled and destroyed bodies littered the area in front of the city's main gate, which the portcullis in and of itself was blown outward and away from the city by an unknown force during the destruction of the city. Some were cleaved in half while others had long, ten feet in length, spears protruding from their bodies; with the spears sticking up in a near uniform straight line. The dead littered the fields in a number that soared into the hundreds, though, that number was far less than the population of the City at the time of the attack. Thankfully, for some of the younger Inquisitors, the smell of decay was kept at bay by distance alone; it would only take an ill-fainted wind to change that, however. If the fields were the first sign of the brutality that occurred here, then the walls doubled down on it. Raised high overtop the walls Merlons stood the attackers messengers, with the bodies of numerous deceased run through by the same long spears that were seen in the fields below. Their hands appeared to be bound together, centered in their chest in the prayer position. While the finer details were hard to make out at the distance they were at, it was clear that the horrors this city faced in the night were unlike anything anyone had seen in a long time.
Ardur knew this. Even though the group had only spent thirty minutes observing the city, Ardur knew that what transpired here was unlike anything he had witnessed before.
The scouting party had made great time in their travels toward the city, arriving with the sun still at their back meaning they were almost completely hidden from any prying eyes that could signal their presence; and Ardur was using this to his advantage. After they arrived, Ardur spread his fellow Inquisitors out along the tree-line, instructing them to keep to the shadows and observe; and stay quiet. He knew some of them would jump to the same conclusion as he did while others may not see the forest for the trees. Regardless of that, he readied himself for what was to come. As he was partially hidden behind a tree, Ardur pulled out a parchment of paper, a small flat piece of wood, and a simple pencil. In an instant, his hand dashed back and forth across the page as the sound of his writing filtered into the ambient sounds of nature before culminating in three quick, yet decisive slashes under one phrase in particular before he threw the pencil and wood aside. He motioned for the two Inquisition soldiers he had pulled along for the journey to come over; which he did with haste.
"Take this straight to Anora," he paused as he handed the note to a high elf, "you should be able to make the run within the hour if not faster."
The Elf nodded and the pair took off running. As they ran off, Ardur turned his head back to the City of Ash and marveled at the decay around it. His hands rested on his hips as he took a few steps towards the open field, his eyes scanned the fortress of a city before him. The walls were tall and thick, with a gatehouse featuring a portcullis and a traditional wooden gate and neither of which would have been breached as quickly as the reports suggest. His eyes slowly examined the portcullis and wondered what could cause the damage to it. Force magic was one of the few explanations that made sense, though, the amount of force needed to do that damage was unheard of.
He knew his fellow Inquisitors had questions, however, and while he may not have the answers, he knew better than to keep them in the dark to the fate of the city. With a high pitched and loud enough whistle, Ardur grabbed the attention of his scouts and motioned for them to fall in on his position. After they arrived, Ardur looked them all in the face.
"The Blight did not befoul this city nor did her terrible monsters breach her walls," he paused as he looked back at the gate's portcullis, "something monstrous attacked this city, and I have yet to figure out who it was. We will wait here for two hours before we advance towards the city. Any questions?"
Ardur knew this. Even though the group had only spent thirty minutes observing the city, Ardur knew that what transpired here was unlike anything he had witnessed before.
The scouting party had made great time in their travels toward the city, arriving with the sun still at their back meaning they were almost completely hidden from any prying eyes that could signal their presence; and Ardur was using this to his advantage. After they arrived, Ardur spread his fellow Inquisitors out along the tree-line, instructing them to keep to the shadows and observe; and stay quiet. He knew some of them would jump to the same conclusion as he did while others may not see the forest for the trees. Regardless of that, he readied himself for what was to come. As he was partially hidden behind a tree, Ardur pulled out a parchment of paper, a small flat piece of wood, and a simple pencil. In an instant, his hand dashed back and forth across the page as the sound of his writing filtered into the ambient sounds of nature before culminating in three quick, yet decisive slashes under one phrase in particular before he threw the pencil and wood aside. He motioned for the two Inquisition soldiers he had pulled along for the journey to come over; which he did with haste.
"Take this straight to Anora," he paused as he handed the note to a high elf, "you should be able to make the run within the hour if not faster."
The Elf nodded and the pair took off running. As they ran off, Ardur turned his head back to the City of Ash and marveled at the decay around it. His hands rested on his hips as he took a few steps towards the open field, his eyes scanned the fortress of a city before him. The walls were tall and thick, with a gatehouse featuring a portcullis and a traditional wooden gate and neither of which would have been breached as quickly as the reports suggest. His eyes slowly examined the portcullis and wondered what could cause the damage to it. Force magic was one of the few explanations that made sense, though, the amount of force needed to do that damage was unheard of.
He knew his fellow Inquisitors had questions, however, and while he may not have the answers, he knew better than to keep them in the dark to the fate of the city. With a high pitched and loud enough whistle, Ardur grabbed the attention of his scouts and motioned for them to fall in on his position. After they arrived, Ardur looked them all in the face.
"The Blight did not befoul this city nor did her terrible monsters breach her walls," he paused as he looked back at the gate's portcullis, "something monstrous attacked this city, and I have yet to figure out who it was. We will wait here for two hours before we advance towards the city. Any questions?"