-----Pil stands apart from everyone and scowls as he holds his sword in his hand. The big man scans the people around them as he remains on guard.
-----“Joren be praised!” Strolum says loudly, while patting Pil on the arm, “Yer a good ‘um. Help me get these people settled n’ all.”
-----Pil merely grunts and nods at his red-haired friend.
-----Rinda quickly speaks up to Garrison, “You and the others get those who are able to fight ready in case the goblins rally here. I need to go among these people and help those who are in need.”
-----Before the woodsman can speak, a soft sound takes to the air bringing a pause to most of the people surrounding the heroes. A strange melody from an instrument plays, reminiscent of soft rainfall and the rustling of leaves in a breeze. The song builds up the volume for many beats of the heart, adding in deep and sonorous notes, letting them drift in under the surussus. Further weight is added by gradually changing the surussus to a haunting almost-wail, a curiously deep lament which peaked by a complex counter melody in the other end of the scale.
-----Mid point, the tune turned sideways. The complexity remained, but jagged half-notes were added in the upper registers, before tapering off both the complexity and the jaggedness by building up an inharmonic overtone with a hand vibration on the low end, and a breath vibration on the high end.
-----And again, the melody changed - making it solemn, a procession from deep sorrow, to regret, to acceptance, all by blending the overtone with a softer harmonic, leaving behind the second movement with a calm recurring pattern reminiscent of the original starting notes.
-----Bit by bit, something else was added, a gradual lift of the music, lightening the overtones further and further, building highpoints amid the whispers, but not leaving behind something of the original lament brought in at the end of the first movement. The lament alternated with the high peaks, before letting the notes float away together, seemingly intertwined, into the night air.
-----Rinda looked around with a wispy smile on her face. Those closest to her could hear her say softly, “Whisper . . ”
-----As people emerge from the aftermath, Jeilin beckons Dilton to come along as she approaches one of the villagers. "Pardon me, where might I find your elders? I wish to ask more about what happened here and hereabouts."
-----Jeilin first asks a man perhaps in his thirties who wears little more than a cloth around his hips. “This I do not know,” he answers in an angry voice, “I am not from here. Perhaps you will be lucky to find one after the orcs and hobgoblins took over.”
-----A young boy looking to be about twelve years of age staggers forth as if in a daze. There are no visible wounds but the boy answers Jeilin with a hollow sound to his voice. “They killed them. . . Any who tried to stand up to them . . . We kept waiting for the Knights.”
-----Rinda quickly moves toward the boy and places an arm around his shoulders. “It is all right now,” she says in a comforting voice, “Is there any that you know here?”
-----The boy lifts his head and looks at the people, more and more of who are assembling in the village square. The eyes begin to dart from person to person with an increasingly desperate manner. Finally he looks back at Rinda with eyes filled with tears. “No . . ” he mutters as he collapses into her arms in despair.
-----Pil looks somewhat in distress at the boy, though the big man keeps his sword in his hand.
-----Jyan walks over close to Jeilin and says with an uneasy tone, “Many of these commoners have been scattered, perhaps over many different villages. When I was forced in one of the troops, one of the tactics was to keep the peasants separated and disoriented. It helped keep them from rebelling. In many cases the village elders, especially in villages close to the battle front, were slain.”
-----A shadow then approaches out of the darkness from around the inn; a slender form with a hood pulled forward to fully hide the face.
-----Smooth strides carried this one forward into the throng, making a straight line for Garrison. The companions can see it is Whisper. The elf moves closer to the woodsman and whistles to get his attention.
-----Garrison almost jumps and turns towards Whisper before smiling uncertainly in recognition.
-----Whisper holds up a finely made battle-axe and then throws him the axe to catch.
-----“Thank you, my friend!” a tone of surprise still in Garrison’s voice.
-----With that, Whisper makes a bee-line for Rinda who is speaking softly to the young boy crying in her arms.
-----Whisper slowed, and stopped a few feet away from Rinda, waiting patiently for her to finish with the boy-child. Almost idly, he begins to scan the crowd.
-----Like Whisper, Pil looked over the people milling about the village square. None seemed threatening, though many looked at a loss for what to do. A few men clad in rags and loin cloths held weapons and stood a few yards away from the adventurers. A few women now gathered with their backs against the front of the inn building, quite a few of them holding on to children that had been likewise rescued.