“We need a win.”
Rosh sighed. He knew Nav was right, but he didn’t know what more they could do. The Margr were too close for them to perform anymore and what good is a band that can’t play?
“We can’t just sit arou–” Rosh let his emotions get the better of him and he interrupted her “I know, I know! We’re not arguing that, we’re arguing about what kind of a win we CAN provide” Rosh barked, much louder than he had intended. Silence floated in the room for an uncomfortable moment before apologies on all sides began. They were all exhausted from digging trenches so they agreed to sleep on it and try and decide what to do the following day.
As the sun rose over Ellomyr, the Trilling Shard began to hum. Whether it was due to the experiments those nanos were conducting or if it too was afraid was unknown, but it had been activating more often as of late. In addition, its song had grown more dissonant. Nav talked about the shard during their sparse breakfast, mostly just so they could talk about anything other than the oncoming abhumans. After, the band headed towards Gurner’s home. They arrived to find something of a crowd surrounding the old man, ranting and raving about the oncoming horde and the death of Zriq. Apparently the old man had passed during the previous night and many held it as a portent of things to come. They were barely able to get a word in edgewise but managed to get their orders for the day; helping with the diplomatic caravan.
The rest of the morning was uneventful in comparison; they gathered supplies for the journey and loaded up the carts. No, it wasn’t until the caravan was leaving that things went to hell. One of the many nay-sayers in the village was claiming the diplomats were abandoning the village and honestly? It was hard not to see it that way. The diplomatic caravan was a long shot; even if, and that was a big if, they could get help they might not return in time to do anything with that help. Still, they needed every advantage they could get. Despite explaining that they had no choice but to leave, the negative voices overpowered the positive ones and a crowd began to gather. In the end as the caravan had left it had been pelted by swears and the occasional rock. Despite their best efforts the band was feeling the effects of the negativity as they returned to their “home”. The thought of leaving Ellomyr had crept into their minds one by one that day; they had done all they could to help but they weren’t fighters..