[4e] Ravaged Wastelands: Adventures in Moorhollow

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The thick, stone walls that surround Moorhollow stand tall and strong, despite their immense age. The ancient architecture has clearly been repaired and added to many times, but also remains sturdy, having rebuffed countless attacks throughout the years. An immense iron gate, rusted and clearly old, yet also standing firm, blocks the only entrance to the city, a thick and well-trodden dirt road leading up to it. A few “shamblers” can be seen not too far from the gate, meandering about aimlessly, but not acting overly aggressive. Both undead creatures appear to be formerly human, but their flesh has already begun to decay, revealing the bone and sinew beneath.

Two armored men, each with a large spear on their backs, stand vigilant at either side of the gate, their faces looking fairly bored. Occasionally one of them eyes one of the zombies suspiciously as it approaches the walls, but neither of the men seem overly concerned with their presence.

Within the walls, life proceeds in a slow, mundane fashion. The bustle of everyday life can be heard, giving Moorhollow a pleasant sort of hum to contrast against the piercing silence of the wastes. Up in the higher center of the town, a large stone keep can be seen; a hub of activity. Dotted throughout this center are various larger homes, owned by the richest and most powerful citizens. The larger manors on the outskirts of the town, near the walls, boast large fields, capable of producing wheat. The rest of the town is taken up by shops, citizen housing, and various other buildings, such as the local temples. Some of the buildings on the outskirts also appear to boast architecture older than the rest of the town, seeming to extend underground.


The smell of ash rolls across the small town of Moorhollow as a gust of wind billows across the wastes, distorting the thick, grey clouds above as it goes. As the air begins to cool down slightly, the various people milling about the rough dirt streets of the town begin hurriedly finishing going about their business, seeking shelter from the storm that such winds and cold portents.

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Brandis Shieldhart continues marching, feeling the weariness of his long journey catching up to him. However, he is rewarded by the sight of civilization as he crests one final hill, finally reaching the town of Moorhollow. In the distance, he can see two armored men draw spears as he approaches the gate.
One of the men clears his throat before shouting:”Oi! You there! Please state your name and reason for entering Moorhollow. Be warned, we’ve already had to kill two people in the last week who thought they could force their way in. Don’t do anything rash.” The man grimaces, seeming poised for a fight.

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As Adaine emerges from the western entrance to the Moorhelm Ruins, an old schoolmate, a young Half-Elf named Jax, suddenly runs around the corner. His long blonde hair (normally immaculate) is in disarray, and he appears to be out of breath. After stopping to take several deep breaths in, he says: ”Adaine! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Should’ve known you’d be poking around those dusty old ruins again; you always were old Gerald’s best student. Speaking of which, I came running all this way to tell you that Gerald’s looking for you in his library right now! Gave me a copper to come find you fast as I could.” At this, Jax gives Adaine a winning smile. ”Anyways, gotta go back to the shop. Delvin would be spitting mad if he caught me away from cataloguing potions again. Tell Gerald I say thanks for the coin!”

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Gerald sits alone in his library, re-reading the letter he had received earlier today at his rickety old desk.
“Dear Mr. Moorheime,
I know we have never made formal acquaintances of one another, but upon speaking with some of your former students, I have come to the conclusion that you are most likely exactly the sort of man I’ve been looking for. Your description of this being you claim is a god; Pelor, I believe you named him, matches an old legend in one of my most ancient scrolls nearly exactly. I’ve been combing the ruins and the surrounding area for weeks, and I haven’t found a single mention of “The Lightbringer”, save for your own preaching. I believe you may have had a genuine divine experience; perhaps touched the edge of a dead god’s power, and it may be that this sort of spark is exactly what is needed to locate the information I seek. I would be greatly appreciative if you would come and visit me soon. Bring your best student along too, I have a job that may further the interests of us both, and you’ll need all the help you can get.
You know where to find me,
Pharana"

You know that Pharana is the oldest and most powerful of the resident vampires in Moorhollow, and well-known for her fixation on old legends and myths. She lives in one of the largest and most expensive estates in the city, not far from King Oathelm’s central keep. You’ve heard that she’s been sending groups of mercenaries and necromancers into the Moorhelm Ruins recently.

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Balaern Glannath hasn’t been in Moohollow long, but has grown accustomed the looks of surprise and curiosity his dark skin garners throughout the town. Although most know what a Drow is, in theory, they seem perpetually astonished by him. Therefore, Balaern himself is surprised when a oddly lithe and graceful Dwarf approaches him, seemingly completely uninterested in his appearance. The Dwarf’s skin is deathly pale, and as he draws nearer, his softly-glowing red eyes become visible. He is wearing what appears to be black plate-mail, obviously enchanted to be absolutely silent when worn. His head is shaven, but his long black beard extends nearly to his waist.
”I take it you’re the exiled Drow then? Milady Pharana would dearly like to speak with you, seeing as you’re not currently working for anyone. Your skills would be most useful to her, and she has already stated her desire to reward you beyond your wildest dreams if you manage to succeed in a task she has for you.”
The Dwarf pauses, sizing Balaern up and giving his crossbow an appreciative nod. He offers his hand and smiles, showing two thick and sharp fangs as he does so:”Good to meet you, I’m Thorin Bloodhammer.

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Make sure to give a good description of your character's physical appearance in your post!

[Angel Bob]

Adaine

As Jax disappears down the street, the young man from the ruins watches him go. His brown eyes then turn to the dusty volume in his hands. The cover's lettering has not aged gracefully, and now reads (in Davek), "D_ARVE_ _PRE_SION T_ROUGH THE A_ES". The yellowed pages the book is currently opened to are covered in blocky, angular handwriting, scratched out with quill in ages past. An illustration accompanies the letters, one of a brutish beast towering over the men and dwarves it faces in battle.

Smiling mysteriously, Adaine gently shuts the book and slings it into his pack. Then, glancing around once more at the square, he retreats back inside the darkened ruins. The tunnels are the quickest way to the library, after all. Adaine ducks through the web-filled entrance hall, past the crumbling armoury, and down long-abandoned corridors, wondering all the while what new information has come to Gerald...

[KnightSteve]

Balaern Glannath
As Balaern watched the dwarf show up, his platinum blonde hair blew in the wind off of his midnight black skin. It definitely is a sight to see for these people who rarely see his kind out in the open. Balaern's white colored eyes shimmered in the light when he heard his favorite word 'riches.' He thought to himself, What would Lady Pharana want with me? If they know of my exile, they know I am forbidden to get within our walls. I should be able to go see her in Moorhollow though. Balaern decided to at least see what she wanted and act kindly to her and the people of her house. Balaern will not take to kindly to her telling him what to do, but if she gives him free reign on this task it may work out.

"Thank you Thorin Bloodhammer. It is good to meet you as well. I take it you are to show me to Lady Pharana. I believe I want to see what she has in store for me, since she is offering me riches more abundant than my wildest dreams. I do have some good skills in Thieving and Stealthiness, and I have been out in this wilderness for almost two years on my own. My exile has showed me how much more prepared I had been for this life than my family had thought we were." He follows the dwarf (or his directions) to see Lady Pharana.

[Mrputts]

A tall man with short brown hair approaches the rusty gate. From a pouch on his side he pulls out an old cloth. Unslinging his waterskin he pulls out the stopper, and slightly dampens the cloth. He then wipes the ash, and dust from his face. He places the cloth back into his pouch. Then slings the waterskin back over his shoulder, being careful not to slice it open on the War Axe holstered on his back.

As Brandis gets closer he hears the guard shout to him. He notices the two zombies starting to shamble in his direction. Continuing to walk he unslings his War Axe. He casually advances towards the first zombie. It lunges at him with arms stretched while gasping air escapes it's lungs.

Brandis sidesteps the zombie swinging his war axe through it's legs. The zombie topples over as the legs are severed from it's body. Brandis then turns to the other that is drawing near. He clasps the Raven medallion around his neck, closes his eyes, and whispers

"May her wings carry you to the other side."

As Brandis releases his hand from the medallion a bright flash of light shoots from it piercing the zombie in it's chest. As it falls over bright glowing embers spread from the wound turning it to ash before it hits the ground. He then turns back to the first zombie that is attempting to reposition itself to bite at Brandis' boots.

"Find the peace that I can not."

He swings his War axe down into the back of the pathetic corpses head. Splitting it in two. He then turns back to the guards as he removes the axe. Reslinging the axe he returns the guards hail.

"I am Brandis Shieldhart. I have traveled a great distance. My journey has lead me to this beacon of safety in these darkest of days. Please allow me entrance for I require provisions, and a place to rest."

Brandis pulls a gold piece from his pouch, and tosses it to guard.

[roll0]>>>>>Diplomacy

[Razorstorm]

Gerald Moorheim

Gerald folds up the letter, his grey eyebrows arched in surprise. Pharana wanted to see him? He generally made it a point to avoid the cultured vampires, not trusting their civilized front one bit. But... she had a scroll that possibly would shed some light on his long-missing deity? That alone was enough to secure a visit. He knew Pelor was real, he could feel the power of light in his heart every day, but since his revelation, he had not received any further direct connections or visions. He longed to know more beyond the single book that had come into his possession month before. The very fact that Pharana seemed to recognize what he had been preaching about for months excited him. He wasn't crazy! The Lightbringer wasn't dead, simply forgotten, and his light of hope was sorely needed in this bleak world!

He paced over to the window, looking out expectantly waiting for his old pupil, Adaine, to arrive. Adaine had always had a keen interest in the lost secrets of the past. He frowned as he looked absent-mindedly out the window. He knew that he had mistreated the boy during his madness. He could barely remember it himself, like a foggy dream about something that happened in someone else's life, but he knew it had been his hand hurling books at the lad, and his mouth cursing him to leave.

Tearing himself from the window with a sigh, he moved to look in a mirror. When had he gotten so old? He briefly ran a comb through the salt & pepper hair that covered the sides of his otherwise bald head. He did the same to the dark beard with streaks of grey that ran along his jaw. He looked at his clothes, a once decent robe of dark red, now faded and brownish. He shrugged, nothing to be done about it today. At least it was clean...ish. He pulled a brown cloak over his shoulders, and hobbled around his study gathering any texts or scrolls that might prove useful in a discussion about ancient gods, and gently put them in a backpack which he slung over his shoulders with a grunt.

He proceeded slowly down the stairs, favoring his bad leg, leaning on his staff made of polished white wood, with symbols he'd carved himself (poorly). He grunted as he passed the matron that ran the orphanage below as he passed through the foyer, and she nodded back, not asking any questions. He closed the front door behind him, and sat on the bench outside, waiting for Adaine to arrive. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to mend bridges, eh?

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Adaine and Gerald
Adaine easily maneuvers his way through the complex and winding passages of the Dwarven ruins, neatly avoiding weak spots in the floor, ancient traps and dead-ends alike. Before long, he passes the main entrance hall that leads to the Southern entrance, which has long been explored and cleaned up. As Adaine trudges up the steep stone steps to the surface, he hears the faint drumming of rain upon the roof of the entrance, and exits through the main archway just in time for the storm to begin in earnest. However, he can easily spot the familiar shape of his old schoolmaster, Gerald Moorheime’s home (recently turned Orphanage), and sees a familiar figure sitting on a bench, sheltered from the rain by the roof’s overhang.

Although he had only been sitting on the bench for around five minutes, and had sent Jax to find Adaine a mere ten minutes before that, Gerald spots his ex-pupil emerging from the ruins soon after the rain begins falling hard, stirring up the dirt and ash collected on the ground around his home and sending it spilling down the narrow dirt road in little rivulets.

@Balaern Glannath
Thorin listens to Balaern’s situation impassively, showing almost no emotion on his pale, bearded face.
”I’ll show you where to meet Lady Pharana, but I myself have errands to run while I’m in the southern part of town.” At this, his eyes glitter as he nods in the direction of the Moorhelm Ruins. ”Lady Pharana owns the Glimmerden Estate, near the center of town. It’s not too far from Delvin’s potion shop, if you know where that is. It would seem that few in this town boast the subtlety and skill needed to accomplish what milady seeks to be done, so I’m certainly glad that you’re interested. It may also please you to know that Lady Pharana cares little about if and why you were exiled; only that you are capable and willing to work.”
The Dwarf claps Balaern on the back before turning to leave, his steps falling absolutely silently. After a few paces, Thorin suddenly stops and glances back over his shoulder, as droplets of rain begin to fall, sliding down his bald head and armor.
”One last thing…If you ever want to make a little extra coin, I've always wanted to taste Drow blood.”
With a loud guffaw, Thorin continues on his way without waiting for a response, quickly disappearing into an alleyway, heading South.

@Brandis Shieldhart
As Brandis draws his axe and continues to approach the wall, both guards immediately assume defensive positions, their faces growing grim. However, as Brandis instead dispatches both zombies with ease, displaying both martial ability and divine might, the two cease to look worried or aggressive. As the second shambler is eliminated, the guard who spoke earlier returns his spear to his back and smiles, stepping forward to meet Brandis as he approaches.

”Well met, Brandis Shieldhart. My apologies for having been so short with you earlier; any man of the faith is welcome within these walls.”
As Brandis tosses the coin to the guard, he catches it in midair, and then presses it back into Brandis’ palm.
”No need for that, friend. You’ll be wanting that money if you wish to purchase provisions within the walls; I would not deprive a priest of The Raven Queen” As he mentions the deity’s name, both guards touch their pointer and middle fingers to their lips, a traditional gesture to show respect for the dead and their goddess.”of his gold. I’m Ethan Hillard, and I would like to personally welcome you to Moorhollow.”
Ethan’s face has a pleasant grin upon it as he and the other man turn to the immense, rusted iron gate and rap upon it three times, near simultaneously. Soon after, the gate begins to swing open and the guards step aside to allow Brandis access, giving a slight bow as they do so. Brandis enters Moorhollow, hearing the gate close behind him with a loud clang, and begins to feel the refreshing wetness of a rainstorm across his face.

[Mrputts]

Brandis places the coin back into his pouch. He then places his hand on Ethan's shoulder as he walks past.

The refreshing rain runs down his face, and neck racing along the many links of his chainmail as it washes away the dust that has collected. Not wanting to stay out in the elements for much longer than he needs. He heads off deeper into Moorhollow looking for a place to rest, or atleast someone that can point him in the right direction.


[roll0]>>>>> Streetwise

[Razorstorm]

Gerald Moorheime

Gerald smiled and hauled himself to his feet, as Adaine reached him. "Good to see you, lad," he said, extending his hand for a warm handshake. "Thank you for coming so quickly, and on such short notice. Come, walk with me, and I'll explain on the way."

Assuming he follows...

"I received an intriguing letter from a very powerful denizen of our city, the Vampire Pharana. Here, have a look." He hands over the letter for Adaine to peruse. "As you can see, she claims to have some material that references Pelor, though the term "Lightbringer" is unknown to her. Of course I'm interested. I have no idea what to expect from her proposition, but I suspect it will involve more than simple research. I immediately thought of you as someone that would likely find this interesting." He stops walking and looks at Adaine seriously. "Now, this needn't concern you if you don't want it to, and the Light knows you certainly don't owe me a thing. Quite the opposite, really, and I know it. I certainly am not inclined to take anything the vampire says at face value, but I think she'd have little enough reason to target me of all people for a scheme of some kind. Either way, this is the first lead I've found in my hunt, and I have to pursue it. But if you don't want to get involved, you can walk away now, and no one will think the less of you for it. But it seemed to me like something you might appreciate, and I've a feeling I can't do this alone. So, what do you think?"

[KnightSteve]

"Thank you Thorin for your help. Maybe I will see you again. I doubt I'll sell you my blood as it is more precious to me than the money I can make from it. I can't wait to see what Lady Pharana has in store for me." Balaern puts his hood on as the rain starts to come down. After watching the dwarf leave, Balaern shivers thinking of what it would be like to be drank from. Hopefully, it won't be necessary to help Lady Pharana...

Balaern travels in the direction Thorin told him, looking at everyone and everything he passes. It's not long when he runs into Delvin's potion shop as the dwarf had said. Though he didn't stay here long when his exile first started, Balaern remembers the smells of alchemical ingredients coming from within the shop. He takes the left past the shop and heads towards Glimmerden Estate, and the next part of his journey. Let's see what sort of trouble I can get into now, he thinks to himself as he nears the Estate.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine

"Nice to see you, too," Adaine grins to the old professor, gladly shaking his hand. It is indeed good to see the gleam of curiosity in Gerald's face once more, after such a long while of nothing but drunken madness.

Adaine follows his mentor's path, matching his footsteps and eagerly listening to the news. As Gerald hands him the letter, he scans the vampire's handwriting with a look of great intrigue in his eyes.

"Exciting stuff," the youth nods. "I'm happy for you. And I'd be honoured to come along and help you uncover this knowledge!" After all, it may be some use to us, he says behind his smile.

Indeed so, whispers the faintest of voices in his ear. I have a vested interest in restoring Pelor's worship to this wretched world. And I'm sure our silent ally is on board as well.

After this moment of conversation, Adaine turns his focus back to Gerald. "There is one thing, though, that I would wish to consider about this lead. I'm sure you've thought of it as well, but... why would a vampire be so interested in the Lightbringer?"

[LimeSkeleton]

OOC: Adaine, go ahead and make a Streetwise roll for me.

[Angel Bob]

Streetwise: [roll0]

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Brandis Shieldhart
Brandis is able to maneuver through the haphazardly-placed buildings that dot Moorhollow's dirt streets with little difficulty, finding that the few people still out in the rain seem pleased to see a man of the faith, touching their first two fingers to their lips in respect. One kind Elf woman is kind enough to offer you directions to the nearest Inn: "The Stone Mug Inn", not too far from the town gate.

Within a few minutes of walking through the settlement, Brandis spots a rusted, iron sign hanging above the door of a ramshackle stone building, water flowing down a shabbily-constructed groove in the roof into a large stone container. The sign reads "The Stone Mug Inn", and voices can be heard laughing and chatting from within, past the hanging cloth that serves as a makeshift door. The cloth is easily pushed aside, revealing a well-kept room, a roaring fire burning in a hearth over on the left side of the room. Directly across from the door is a bar, at which two brawny human men sit, roaring with laughter. Several tables are scattered around the room, most of which are occupied; this is clearly a popular tavern. The bartender, a short human with a mess of brown, curly hair, nods at Brandis, seeming pleased at spotting the symbol of The Raven Queen upon his chest.

As he enters, Brandis spots a bald Dwarf suddenly emerge from an alleyway, his bald head and long, black beard wet from the rain. The Dwarf quietly follows Brandis into the inn, making very little noise, despite the heavy, black metal armor he is wearing.
Perception DC 13
The Dwarf's eyes were definitely glowing slightly, and were a bright red hue. You think you may have seen a pair of fangs in his mouth as well.
The armored Dwarf silently takes a seat at the corner of the room farthest from the hearth, shortly followed by a handful of men wearing leather armor, weapons at their belts. The numerous scars and tattoos which adorn their bodies and faces makes Brandis guess they’re probably mercenaries, especially when the Dwarf slides a small pouch across the table to the tallest one, who quickly stows it as the two begin to speak in hushed voices.

Soon after this, a loud voice calls out to Brandis from near the fireplace. ”Excellent! A fellow priest of The Raven Queen! I was beginning to think that nobody interesting would come by all day. You must be new here; I’m Sindrei Forscythe.”
As the man stands, Brandis gets an excellent look at him. The Half-Elf is wiry and agile, clearly nearing his late thirties, but retaining the vigor of his youth. Long, dirty-blonde hair is tied neatly into a ponytail down his back, and a silver circlet adorns his forehead, studded with several onyx-colored gems. His white robes are neat and simple, with a large, black silhouette of a raven taking up most of the front. An easy, carefree smile appears as he takes in Brandis’ appearance, showing the deep laugh-lines on his face.
” Come, come! Share a drink with me. I’d love to hear your story; you can’t have been in Moorhollow long.”
He leads Brandis to his table, calls the bartender to fetch Brandis whatever he’d like at Sindrei’s own expense, and sits back in his chair, looking at Brandis expectantly.

@Adaine
Adaine has heard that Pharana has been sending a few of her servants and house-mates to hire both exceptional individuals and cheap thugs to poke around the Moorhelm Ruins. He also knows that Pharana has been making frequent visits to Mooncaller Temple (Devoted to The Raven Queen, Ioun and Avandra), often bringing bags full of old scrolls and dusty tomes with her. Finally, Adaine picked up some gossip in a local bar, stating that Pharana has recently been feuding with Malec Dustwalker, the richest farmer in town, over a disagreement that occurred almost exactly the day before the letter to Gerald was sent.

@Adaine and Gerald

Pupil and student reunite, discussing the enigmatic nature of the letter and generally catching up with one another. As Adaine and Gerald walk together through the twisting dirt paths that lead through Moorhollow, rain splattering and creating patches of mud and carrying ash from the ground downhill, they spot an unusual figure making his way in the same direction as them.
The man's hair is long and platinum blonde, almost white, billowing from under his hood as the winds from the storm blow through the town. Neatly contrasting with his light-colored hair is his obsidian-colored skin. Although Adaine and Gerald have likely never seen a Drow before in person, they have heard that relations have begun with a group of them that live not far to the North, and that a diplomatic envoy is supposedly currently staying in Moorhollow . The most striking thing about his appearance, especially from the back, is the complex and extremely dangerous looking crossbow upon his back.
Within only a minute or two of walking, it becomes clear that the Drow is also making his way towards the Glimmerden Estate.

@Balaern
As Balaern passes Delvin's potion shop, he notices that two men seem to be following him, or at least headed in the exact same direction as him. Turning back, he sees an old man with a white staff, limping slightly, his robes a faded sort of brown color. Keeping pace with the man is a taller and younger human, his blonde hair meticulously styled. Both have bags slung over their backs, clearly filled with all sorts of scrolls and books, carefully sheltered from the precipitation. Continuing to walk, he suddenly hears one of them mention the name "Pharana", making it seem likely that these two are also being hired by the mysterious Vampire woman.

[Angel Bob]

"Let's see, let's see, what do I know about the Lady Pharana..." Adaine mutters as he racks his brain, trying to answer his own question. Lady Pharana... the Lightbringer... ancient tomes and records...

Are you perhaps forgetting the incident at the temple? comes a dry whisper.

"...Ah, right! How could I forget?" Adaine cries. "Mooncaller Temple!" Seeing Gerald's eyebrow turned up in confusion, the youth pulls out a tattered book and waves it around to explain. "I know you pray to the Lightbringer in your own solitary hours, but I head down to the temple weekly to pay my respects to Ioun. (Thus far, it seems she's smiled on my quest to unearth more knowledge.) Avandra and the Raven Queen are also worshipped there.

"Funny thing is, though, I saw Lady Pharana herself at the temple not three weeks ago. I didn't see much; she walked in with a load of old books and records just as I was beginning my prayers. By the time I finished, she was gone."

Adaine thinks back to his latest excursions to the Moorhelm Ruins. "And that's not all. I've only seen Lady Pharana the one time, but she's got a few cronies combing the ruins beneath us, looking for information. Mostly thugs, but there have been some more peculiar characters, too. There might even have been a wizard! I've noticed a few parties in the last few weeks, and avoided them. I've no idea what they're after, especially since I haven't gone back to the area they were ransacking.

"And I'm pretty sure Pharana's in a dispute with old Dustwalker. You know, the best farmer in town? They're still talking about in the tavern; it was only a few days ago... Come to think of it, just the day before this letter was sent!" He pauses, out of breath. "But all that still doesn't tell us why she's interested in the Lightbringer."

Indeed, it just leaves us with more questions. I've told you time and time again -- never trust a vampire. Especially one researching a god whose very dominion is anathema to the creatures of the night!

The pupil turns to his wizened mentor. "What do you suppose it all means?"

[KnightSteve]

As he hears the younger of the pair behind him speak, Balaern slows up a bit to hear them better. Balaern sees nowhere that he could get behind easily enough and not be seen by them, so he decides to do the next best thing. Stop...

Balaern stops in the middle of the path, and waits for the older man bump into him before making another action. "Excuse me sir, but you should probably be more careful of where you are going. It's not safe out here where the vampires roam so freely. You should be getting back to your studies where it's safer." He turns to the younger man, "And you should be a bit wiser to keep your father inside so he doesn't get lost or worse. If you would like, I can help you assist him to wherever it was you were going. I hate to see those vampires eat, even if all they're eating are criminal scum. Their kind aren't natural."

Balaern awaits their response before deciding if he's going to walk with them or behind them.

OOC: An introduction would come along if they decide to let him walk with them. A bit of rudeness is expected from the Drow.

[Mrputts]

For the first time in a long while, Brandis has been granted a reprieve from the harsh world. The sights and sounds of the living carrying on is a welcome change from the deadly silence of the wastes.

This feeling, however is short lived, when the stark reality of the world walks through the door behind him.
A vampire!? Here? No No No. It can't be. It must be fatigue from my journey..... But I know I saw his eyes! Brandis thinks to himself about the dwarf.

He is broken from his thoughts as the half-elf engages him in conversation leading him to a seat. Brandis sits down at the table.

"Something not red." he tells the bartender while looking at the dwarf from the corner of his eye. He then turns back to Sindrei.

"Tell me Sindrei, is it customary for vampires to sit so brazenly in the open?" motioning his head in the direction of the dwarf. Seeing if he can get confirmation on his suspicion.

"I am looking for a man. He has been described to me as a preacher that has crawled from the bottle, but still spews nonsense like the ravings of a mad man. Any information you have on him would be most helpful to my cause."

Brandis reaches into his pouch, and pulls out the coin previously returned to him. Showing he is willing to pay for this information, Brandis grabs for the drink brought by the bartender, with the coin pinched between his index and middle finger. He lifts the flagon and takes a swig.

1d20+7>>>> Diplomacy. For the information.

[Mrputts]

I put ( ) around my 1d20+7 and i guess you can not edit it so screwed the roll sorry trying again.

[roll0]>>>> Diplomacy. For the Information

[Razorstorm]

Gerald nodded at Adaine's questions as they walked, considering. "I've honestly no clue how those pieces fit together. I can't imagine what the Lightbringer, or us for that matter, could possibly have to do with any of that. But mark my words, I doubt that her purposes are anything but ultimately selfish. However, that doesn't mean we can't work with her, but let's not go in with wool over our eyes, eh? Look both ways before crossing the street and all that, right? And I have a feeling, a burning in my bosom, if you will, that this is the right path for me to be on. I have to trust that. But I'm certainly not going to trust anything she says at face value.

As he bumps into Balaern.

"Forgive me sir, my fault entirely." He gives a deferential nod, politely, and smiles warmly. "I was so caught up in our discussion, that I completely failed to notice that you'd stopped. And you're quite right. These are dangerous times we live in. But I trust that the sun will rise tomorrow on a brighter day than today, if only we choose to make it so." Realizing that he'd crossed over into preaching, he clears his throat and changes the subject. "If you'll excuse us, we have a meeting to get to. Unless of course you... happen to be heading to the same place? Well," he says with "let's get a move on!" exuberance, "we are walking this way, and if you happen to also be heading this way, you are certainly welcome to join us!"

With that he takes off down the street, not looking back to see if the other two follow, trusting they will.

[KnightSteve]

Odd, he thought to himself they are heading to Lady Pharana. He follows the old man up the path in the way he pointed. "Wait, I am headed to see the Lady as well. It may be in our best interest to go as a trio. I am Balaern Glannath, an exile from Ust Natha, and have been wandering these lands for what seems like forever now. I may be able to use this knowledge to help keep the thralls from angering. If you have anything that will help, then we should use that as well. But let us hurry, as it is never good to leave a vampire waiting."

[Angel Bob]

A drow! hisses the voice in Adaine's head. Stay sharp. You never know what sort of deception the dark folk might try next.

With all due respect, my liege, I find such blatant bias is unfounded, Adaine replies. The drow have long been helpful trade partners of Moorhollow. He seems far from malicious.

Yet you distrust vampires, as our conversation of roughly a minute prior would attest to, points out Adaine's advisor. Hypocritical.

Suddenly, a rumbling voice echoes from the back of Adaine's skull, reverberating through his mind: ...No.

Adaine gives a start. You deign to speak?

Drow... breathe... and bleed. As men live... so do drow. Vampires are... unnatural. Anathema... to life.

Having listened closely to both voices, Adaine glances back into the real world and notices he's slipped a few steps behind Gerald and the drow. Quickly, he opens his stride to bring himself closer. "You're welcome to accompany us, Mr. Glannath. I'm Adaine, and this is my mentor, Gerald Moorheim. We're scholars who study the history of the ruins below our feet. Lady Pharana promises us a lead on a subject my teacher is anxious to research. If I might ask -- what brings you to Lady Pharana?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Brandis Shieldhart

Sindrei frowns at Brandis’ question, glancing over at the table where the Dwarf and the mercenaries are seated, still leaning over the table and talking in hushed tones.
”Brother, I know that you may feel that Vampires are universally evil; a race of bloodsucking fiends that exist only to spread evil and terror. As priests of The Raven Queen, this sort of hatred comes to us easily and powerfully. Believe me; I once held very similar opinions about them in my old crusading days, back before I settled here in Moorhollow.”
A small, rueful smile flits across Sindrei’s face as he stares into the fire. His vibrant blue eyes seem distant, and he pauses for several seconds before continuing.
”Much like you, I spent my youth spreading the word of the Queen of Winter to others, traveling the wastes to assist anywhere I could. I destroyed countless undead, from the humble shamblers you can find anywhere, to a powerful Wight which nearly devoured my soul. (A story for another time, of course.) I destroyed Vampires without a second thought, severing them from this world like one does a gangrenous limb. Oftentimes they begged for mercy, powerless to stop me as I seared their skin with the power of our Lady. At first I dismissed this as merely a ruse to make me lower my guard, allowing them to strike back and drain me dry without warning. Over time, I came to learn that sometimes these individuals had been vampires for a mere day or two at most, sometimes even turned against their will, or as a last-ditch effort to save them from some terrible malady.”
Sindrei sighs, his face looking far older than before.
”What changed me was what occurred one fateful day, after I had finished destroying a small brood of Vampires who were holed up in a cave a few miles from the village of Alumbra. As I scoured their hideout, clearing the place of any last traces of their presence, I heard faint sobbing coming from deeper in the caverns. Assuming it to be a kidnapped innocent, I immediately began searching for the source, reassuring whomever it was that all was well, and that they were safe now. In short order, I found a pale little girl, her hair neatly braided, curled up in a ball in a dark corner of the cave. She couldn’t have been older than five or six years old. I reached out to her to comfort her, but she flinched away from me, whimpering. Suddenly, she turned toward me, her face soaked with tears of blood. Her sobbing revealed tiny little fangs, and she was shaking with fright. She asked me…where her m-m-mother was…”
Sindrei stops speaking, blinking rapidly, his eyes wetter than they were a moment ago. After taking a moment to recollect himself, he continues his story.
”I led that little girl back to Alumbra, leaving her with a childless couple that was willing to care for such a creature. However, from that day forward, I couldn’t bring myself to continue my single-minded goal for the eradication of all Vampires. You must realize, Brandis, that all sentient beings hold within them both the potential for both good and evil. I have met many an evil mortal, those who disgrace our entire race by enslaving, slaughtering and tormenting others. Does this make every mortal deserving of execution? I know it is difficult, but please try to understand that Vampires have no more pre-disposition towards evil than you or I. They may be strange, and at times, frightening, but I truly believe that they deserve as much of a chance to prove themselves as we mortals do.”
Sindrei shakes his head rapidly, his ponytail swinging back and forth as he does so.
”Sorry about that. I slipped into preaching mode again; I always have liked the sound of my voice a little too much. In any event, I dearly hope that you consider my words, brother.”
He shakes his head as you bring the coin out, taking a sip of the mug of ale in front of him before speaking again.
”Hmmm. You must mean Gerald Moorheime. A sad case, that one. His own wife left him after he turned to spirits to drown himself in. Recently, he seems to have found religion, which I am of course happy to hear. But his choice of deity is surprising; I can’t say I’ve ever heard of this ‘Lightbringer” being, but I suppose a little bit of light would be welcome in these dark lands. Interesting that you’d be looking for him too, it seems that Mr. Moorheime’s become a very popular man these past couple of days. Why, only a week ago, Lady Pharana of all people came to the temple asking me if I knew anything about him. Her visits are always appreciated, of course, but typically she’s more interested in ancient myths than ex-drunk preachers…”
Sindrei pulls out a piece of paper from his robes, along with a black quill. As he begins scribbling a rough message onto the small piece of parchment, Brandis notes that he does not appear to have dipped it in ink. As Sindrei continues to write, it becomes clear that the quill is magically manufacturing its own ink as it writes. After signing the bottom with a large, looping signature, he hands the paper to Brandis.
”It just so happens that Lady Pharana owes me a favor anyways, so I’d be glad to put in a word for you so that she’ll introduce you to old Mr. Moorheime. Perhaps you’ll even find some work while you’re up there; I’m sure a man of the faith with as strong a back as yours would be useful just about anywhere. Head towards the center of town, where the large stone keep with the steeple is. You’re looking for the Glimmerdin Estate; it’s just past Delvin’s potion shop. You’ll recognize it from the violet flowers; her Ladyship figured out how to grow them herself.”
Sindrei stands, and offers his hand to Brandis as he does so.
”Perhaps this will be an excellent opportunity for you to reconsider your opinion on Vampires as well. Remember: everyone deserves a chance.”

[Mrputts]

Following Sindrei's lead Brandis finishes his drink, and stands accepting Sindrei's hand.

"Thank you Sindrei for the drink, and the information. I shall head out to Lady Pharana's immediately."

Brandis pulls Sindrei in close and speaking in a firm, but quiet voice says.

"Your story is truly touching, but I have already shed my last tear in this life. Vengeance is the only thing my heart knows now. For when one of these foul creatures defiles the only thing in this life you love, you will have no room in your heart for compassion." Brandis releases Sindrei's hand.

He puts the note that was handed to him into his pouch along with the coin. As Brandis heads for the exit, he turns back to Sindrei, and in a room filling voice he booms.

"Make no mistake I will cleanse this world of these filthy creatures! Even if I have to slay a god to do it.... Brother."

Brandis pushes aside the cloth, and heads towards Lady Pharana's.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Although the grey clouds that blot out the sun prevent people from witnessing a true sunset, the slow darkening of the sky from an ashen grey color to an inky black color communicates the passing of time adequately. The rainstorm slowly lets up as day turns to night, providing a reprieve from the downpour of grimy precipitation, but also cloaking the town in the frigid darkness of the wastes.

Balaern, Gerald and Adaine find themselves shivering slightly as they crest the hill leading towards the Glimmerden Estate. The sizeable plot of land is unfenced and untended, with no crops to speak of. There are, however, numerous violet flowers, their petals remaining vibrant and healthy despite the cold of Moorhollow nights. The small patches of flowers are placed in neat intervals along the cobble walkway that leads up the front porch of the manor. The plants are partitioned into small blocks by tiny stone walls, no more than a few inches tall.

The Estate itself is one of the most attractive in Moorhollow; almost entirely a reconstruction of the ruined building that had been in its place. The walls are made from thick, white stone, with huge black columns serving as decoration to break up the color. Several large windows dot the front side of the manor, all of which are now covered with what looks to be silk, or some other fine cloth. The huge double doors that open into the main hall are fairly imposing; standing roughly twelve feet tall and appearing to be near-ludicrously heavy.

As the trio approaches the steps that lead up to the small porch out front, both doors suddenly swing open, and light spills out of the doorway from a large candle. The human woman holding it squints into the darkness, clearly having trouble making out who’s there. ”Hello? I can’t see if anybody is out there, but Aramil’s ears haven’t been wrong before. I assume you’re milady’s guests, whoever you are. Please, step into the house and get out of the elements; the storm’s brought freezing winds in its wake.” The woman raises the candle higher, waving it back and forth to try and get a better look outside.

Perception DC 15
Several pairs of pierce wounds dot her neck, most of which have begun to heal. One is definitely fresher than the others, a tiny dab of blood bubbling around the puncture mark. They most closely resemble holes from a snake’s fangs, but given the nature of who resides in this house, snakes don’t seem the most likely explanation…

From past the doorway, a high, nasal voice echoes:”There’s three of them, foolish girl! You humans have worse eyesight than any other creature I’ve encountered in my entire life. Hurry up and bring them inside, I’ve already prepared the study for their meeting with Lady Pharana.” A slim, imperious looking Elf can briefly be seen moving by the door, his footsteps making hardly any noise. He quickly disappears from view, muttering something about how inferior human hearing is to that of Elves.

The young woman at the door blushes, seeming slightly embarrassed both by her failure to spot the trio now emerging from the shadows and the Elf’s rudeness. ”I’m dreadfully sorry about him. He’s gotten fairly ornery recently since his investigations haven’t been turning up anything. I’m Melinda by the way, pleasure to meet you all.” Melinda gives a strained smile to the three men, seeming a little bit afraid of Balaern. After offering to take cloaks and hang them up near the doors in the entrance hall, Melinda shuts the doors, blocking the cold rush of air that was flowing into the room.

Although it has become pitch-black outside, the inside of the Glimmerden Estate is well-light by candles, most of which have a pale blue flame that seems brighter than normal. The entranceway is large enough to fit around fifteen people comfortably and is dominated by a huge set of stairs that lead up to a landing, doors leading directly across and on both the left and the right. Two archways lead out of the small parlor as well. One appears to lead to a dining room of some sort, though it appears that the chairs and table have not been used for eating in some time, as they are absolutely covered in strange metal contraptions and stone widgets. Melinda begins leading you through the opposite archway, bringing you down a hallway, then through a door into a large, comfortable library. Several armchairs are scattered around a sitting area in front of a roaring hearth. Countless bookshelves make up the majority of the space, each one packed with various tomes and scrolls from a variety of places. A strange metal grate is installed in the ceiling not too far from an empty spot in the room, appearing rather out of place compared to the rest of the décor.

Suddenly, the nasally voice sounds yet again: ”MELINDA! There’s another man coming up the path. Sounds like he’s wearing armor, he’s the loudest one yet. Don’t get up, I’ll let him in.” A loud, dramatic groan of irritation is heard as the door opens again, and voices can be heard. After a short amount of time a tall man with short brown hair entered the library as well a war axe at his belt. A symbol of the Raven Queen is prominently displayed around his neck.

As he enters, he is shortly followed by Aramil, the rude Elf who let him in. ”Lady Pharana will be with you shortly, please make yourselves at home.” After rolling his eyes and shooting the Drow a nasty look, Aramil struts out of the room and back down the hallway.

The fire continues to burn brightly, letting out the occasional loud snap, despite the fact that no wood is burning in the hearth. The magical flames are apparently burning without fuel, filling the whole room with exactly the right amount of heat. Not far from the fire, a large table is set up, completely bare of any objects.

[Mrputts]

Brandis stands near the door where Aramil left him. He looks around the room, then at the older man.

“Gerald Moorheim? My name is Brandis Shieldhart. My journey has carried me a great distance, and I feel the Raven Queen has seen fit to weave my fate to yours. I’ve heard that you are very learned on matters of the gods.”

Brandis then looks in the direction of Balaern.

“It’s not everyday a drow is in the company of humans, and does not have a knife to someone’s throat.”

[KnightSteve]

"I, like you, am a guest of Lady Pharana. I will not start trouble in someone else's place, unless there is just cause. I am Balaern Glannath of Ust Natha. I am here to see what my skills have to do with Lady Pharana's needs." And with that, Balaern becomes quiet, awaiting the Lady's entrance.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine leaves the older men to their bantering and makes a beeline for the bookshelves, scanning them for intriguing titles. With the voices whispering in his ear, however, his attention is somewhat fragmented.

Perception: [roll0]

Yes, that's right. Smart boy! Learn as much as you can about the enemy before striking. I won't say I'm not a little curious myself as to what Lady Pharana keeps on her shelves...

If he finds a suitable book or two, Adaine plucks them from the shelf and sets them down on the table, flicking them open to scan them for important details.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Adaine looks through the various tomes among the shelves, he realizes that most of them are religious texts, historical accounts or dissertations on the culture of different ancient civilizations. Although much of the information here is already known to him, he is able to spot one book in particular on a nearby shelf. The cover reads "Libris Mortis: A Treatise on Ancient Cults of the Demon lord Orcus" in bone-white lettering, while the book itself is bound in decrepit black leather. Sliding the tome off of the shelf takes a bit of effort, as it's almost too large to fit on the shelf. As Adaine flips through it, his fingers tingle and he can hear the faintest of voices calling from within, echoing from the darkest depths of the Confluence. "You seek power...Bring what the Vampire seeks to me..and you will be granted more than you can imagine...Bring it, and make me whole..." The tingling in Adaine's fingers quickly and abruptly fades, the voice along with it. Looking at the book again, he finds that he has somehow turned several pages already, despite not remembering actually doing so. The only mark on this page is a large symbol in the middle of the right-hand page.

http://www.pathfinderwiki.com/mediawiki/images/thumb/f/f9/Orcus.png/150px-Orcus.png

As Gerald stands waiting for Lady Pharana to arrive, he suddenly feels a terrible, evil presence in the room, powerful enough to make him feel icy cold even in the warmth of the fire. As he tries to gauge the source of the ominous, malevolent vibes he's getting, he can only see his old pupil, Adaine, standing completely still, his eyes blank and staring at the pages of a large, black leather-bound tome. Suddenly, Gerald loses track of the feeling entirely, just as Adaine comes to, seeming perplexed at what had just transpired. Looking about the room again, he makes eye contact with Brandis, whose shocked expression lets him know that he was not the only one to feel something amiss.

Balaern, while not attuned to the odd flux of evil magic in the room, is much more aware of his physical surroundings, and is the only one to hear the faint whooshing noises coming from the strange grate in the ceiling across the room. As he approaches to get a better look at it, he notices a stream of mist beginning to spill out from between the metal links in the grate, slowly coalescing into a more humanoid form on the floor. As the mist continues to thicken, a beautiful woman steps forward, her body just barely corporeal, slowly becoming more and more solid.

The woman is tall, standing a little over six feet in height with a straight back and head held high. Her bright crimson eyes look about the room with a clear air of kindness, her fanged mouth partially open in a smile. Her gown is beautifully woven from a pale green silk, darker green floral patterns decorating the sleeves and neck. Long red hair spills about her shoulders in a way that looks simultaneously casual and meticulously prepared, which only enhances her near-supernatural beauty. Lady Pharana nods slightly at Balaern before opening her mouth to speak:"Greetings, everyone. I am Lady Pharana and I would like to personally thank each of you for coming by. I see my letter reached you, Mr. Moorheim. It's very good to see you in such robust health." Pharana walks over to Gerald, briefly laying a cold hand upon his arm. "I'm afraid I only know the Drow by reputation, and you other two young men not at all. Please, introduce yourselves, I always love meeting new people." Lady Pharana gestures vaguely towards the armchairs scattered about before taking a seat on the arm of the one nearest the large table, crossing her legs and glancing at each of the men in turn.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine slams Libris Mortis shut with a loud thump, realizing a moment later how conspicuous the noise was. Still reeling from the book's odd effects, he takes a while to clear his head. The most alarming thing about the incident, he realizes, was not the symbol or the voice... but rather, the fact that all other voices in his head went silent as the entity spoke to him.

Glancing up, Adaine notices Lady Pharana in the room, staring inquisitively at the group, and recalls her latest words. Bowing his head respectfully, he says quickly, "Greetings, milady. My name is Adaine. I am the pupil of Gerald Moorheim and assist him in his studies and archaeological endeavours. Pleasure to meet you." That said, he now lapses into silence, waiting for his constant advisors to return, and visibly shaken from the experience.

[Razorstorm]

Somewhat taken aback my the bizarre feeling and the blatant show of supernatural power from their guest, Gerald stammers momentarily as the Lady passes by and touches him, but he pulls himself together. He chuckles to cover his feelings of discomfort.

"Endeavors is a rather generous word, Adaine, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. I am but a humble scholar who is in search of knowledge that is difficult to find, as you well know. I make no secrets about my goals, in fact I'm sure much of this town wishes I'd keep them to myself! I received personal revelation from Pelor the Lightbringer, but I need to uncover more about his place in our world, so that I can bring his flame of hope to pierce the oppressive gloom of our troubled time. To that end, I am interested to hear what it is you called us here for today."

He takes a seat near the fire, propping his staff against the mantle.

[Mrputts]

Brandis' eyes are still fixed on Adaine when Lady Pharana makes her entrance. As she sits on the arm of the chair Brandis realizes that she is a vampire. An anger for her kind begins to go inside him. Not being foolish enough to start trouble. He steadies his hand, and pushes his anger down for the moment.

"My name is Brandis Shieldhart. I was searching for Gerald Moorheime. Sindrei Forscythe informed me I would find him here.”

Brandis pulls out the letter Sindrei has written. He extends his arm towards Malinda.

“He sends me with a letter.”

[KnightSteve]

"I am here because your dwarf thrall, Thorin, sent me here. He said that my skills would be needed, and that I would be rewarded greatly for my part in all of this. It will help me restore my family name, which was smudged up by the framing that led to my exile from Ust Natha. I'm not trying to be rude, but I may refuse if the prize isn't worth the risk, though. I have survived out on my own for almost two years now, and would like to live to a ripe old age, even if it is away from my own kind." With that Balaern, straightens up his posture and watches Lady Pharana intently, expecting her to show anger at his attitude.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Lady Pharana inclines her head slightly as each man introduces himself, raising an eyebrow slightly at Balaern's comment about whether or not the prize was worth the risk, but not seeming offended. "Pleased to meet you all. I do hope that this meeting can prove beneficial to each of us."

She pauses as Melinda hands her the note, her eyes rapidly scanning it twice before folding it and giving it back. "Well met, Brandis Shieldhart. If Sindrei thinks you a good man, you may prove useful to me yet. Assuming you know how to use the weapon you carry and that you're experienced with Divine magic, you could prove more useful still." She carefully scans Brandis, seeming to hunt for some hidden quality in his appearance or countenance. After looking at him for a little too long, she frowns and turns to Adaine.

"Any pupil of Mr. Moorheim's is welcome here, Adaine. I see you have already been looking through my collection. Feel free to borrow that, if you like. She takes a glance at the book, raising one eyebrow again, but doesn't make any further comments on it.

Smiling slightly, she turns to face Gerald. "You underestimate yourself, Mr. Moorheim. I find your goal both admirable and absolutely fascinating. I would love to read a write-up of your experience with this deity, if you wouldn't mind sharing." A beautiful, bell-like laugh escapes her lips before she addresses Balaern.

"Straight and to the point. I like that. I do believe that that your reward shall be quite enough to pique your interest. My only hope is that your skills prove enough to earn it." A cheeky grin remains on her face as she says this, making it clear that she's just teasing him.

"I'm sure that you're all aware that I'm a bit of a fanatic when it comes to archaeology and mythology. Even just a quick glance about my humble library here would attest to that. Thus, it should come as no surprise to you that the job I offer concerns the ruins beneath Moorhollow. For the past few weeks, I have been gathering willing individuals to explore the Moorhelm Ruins in search of a particular artifact...However," She grimaces slightly as she says this, looking irritated. "none have succeeded. Thus, I decided to change my tactics, switching from large amounts of amateur thugs and mercenaries, to a well-trained group of individuals with experience navigating such places." She gestures at both Gerald and Adaine. "In addition, I know that the skill set of a thief my prove helpful as well, given the location of what I am searching for." She nods at Balaern. "If you are all willing, I'm willing to pay you 150 gold each to make your way past sealed doors and into the deepest regions of the ruins."

As she explains this, Aramil walks into the room, his arms loaded with a variety of maps and scrolls. He places them onto the table near Lady Pharana, bows, then quickly departs. Pharana stands and begins rummaging through the various papers, before pulling out an absolutely ancient-looking scroll and a map that would seem to have been made relatively recently. Handing the map to Adaine, then unfurls the scroll and reads a few lines from it, seeming to be translating into common as she goes, given her slow pace.
"Deep in our keep have we secreted the heart of light, that which wards us from the curse that even now plagues the lands above. The Lightbringer's radiance shines into us and our dead; we are forever blessed to protect it. May it never leave our grasp, even as we perish, for we hold in our souls the last of a dying god. As Pelor fades, so shall we, but our spirits shall forever guard the Sunblessed Amulet." She rolls up the scroll once more, tying it neatly with twine and carefully placing it back on the table.

"The ancient civilization of Dwarves that once dwelt beneath our feet also knew of your god, Gerald. It would seem that this deity was not always as obscure as he is now. Hundreds of thousands of Dwarves lived in Moorhelm and almost all of them seemed to have revered Pelor, if these texts can be believed." She gestures toward a few more ancient scrolls and books. "I would ask that you find this amulet and bring it to me for further study. It could be that this artifact contains information that could reveal the reason for the state of our world, if only we can manage to decode its secrets. After I am permitted to inspect it for some time, I believe it perfectly acceptable for Gerald to take it, as long as he's willing to help document its significance. There's a an untapped trove of information in those ruins, let us all work together to unearth it." Lady Pharana spreads her arms wide, her face looking both hopeful and excited.

Insight DC 18
It seems as though Pharana isn't telling you everything concerning why exactly she wants the amulet. She isn't lying about desiring to learn its secrets, but there's definitely something else that interests her about it as well.

[Angel Bob]

As Pharana's cold eyes alight on the book, Adaine flushes a bright pink. The vampire seems to know just how curious and confused Libris Mortis has left him... so he thinks, at least, as he nervously slips the book into his pack.

Still lost in thought, he nearly drops the map that Pharana hands to him, but manages to curl his fingers together at the last moment. Adaine then reminds himself to look at the person talking to him, and watches intently as Pharana finishes her speech. When all is said and done, he bears a wide-eyed expression.

"I have never come across such records before -- That is to say, I suspected the dwarves of old revered the Lightbringer, but never to this extent... I mean..." His eyes wander, as if trying to spot words lingering in the air. "A Sunblessed Amuelt? Such a relic would be quite a find! I am honoured you would entrust Gerald and I to such a task. The decision is up to him, of course."

Adaine stops speaking as swiftly as he started, turning his attention inward for a few moments. My liege? ...Zutwa, even? Anyone still there?

To his utmost relief, a distinct voice echoes back into his consciousness. Blimey... a foul presence, that was! Can barely keep my thoughts together, even now, it mutters.

Agreed, confirms the rumbling voice. The book must hold some powerful contamination of life.

...Oy! Young man, you didn't do anything boneheaded in my absence, did you?

Not at all, my liege, Adaine lies, trying not to think of the leather volume sitting comfortably in his pack.

[KnightSteve]

Balaern tries to see into Lady Pharana's last words. From what he can tell, she is being honest about them working together to uncover the ruin's secrets. "Well, m'Lady, I think that is a good starting point. We will see what sort of things we uncover, and we may have a good thing started. I will see how well these three gentlemen work with me, as I am going to be the lone duck in a pond of geese. Is there a place we can stay for the evening, before we leave out?" He turns to his new aquaintances. "I do not usually work with others, so you may need to remind me of that from time to time. You watch my back and I watch yours, simple enough?"

[Mrputts]

Brandis listens to Lady Pharana's speech. Thinking that there is probably some insidious plan behind her wanting to the Sunblessed Amulet. He also thinks that it could be possible to use her to uncover information on Ji'ena's possible location, and presumed master. He walks towards her, and speaks softly so as to not let the others hear what he is saying.

"As you may have surmised Lady Pharana. I have no love for your kind, however I am not blinded by bigotry. So I ask of you a favor in return for my aid in this matter. Several years ago my wife Ji'ena Solain was taken from me by a vampire. I believe her to have been risen as his thrall, and I am seeking information on their location. I do not know the name of her master, but as Ji'ena is not that common of a name one such as yourself should be able to at least track down a lead."

[Razorstorm]

The light in Gerald's eyes betrays his obvious excitement, and stammers as he rises to his feet before finally replying, "What you have found in incredible! Of course I'll go. Together we can learn how to bring Hope back to this dark world! This... this is what I've been looking for." He moves toward the table with the scroll on it. Gesturing reverently, "May I?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Lady Pharana's smile fades as she takes in what Brandis has to say, and she lets her arms drop from their previous welcoming, open position to rest on the back of the chair she is standing behind. "I am sorry to hear that, Brother Shieldhart. Please try to understand that I cannot help my nature; I am Vampire whether I wish to be or not. However, I will treat you with courtesy if you do the same, regardless of any personal disagreements between us. Melinda, would you please go tell Aramil that we need to find a certain woman, likely now a Vampire, named Ji'ena Solain. Have him send word to Kraith in Senitha first." Melinda hurries out of the room, giving a sympathetic smile to Brandis as she does so. Afterwards, Pharana hands Gerald the dusty scroll delicately, along with a comparatively intact piece of parchment. Everyone can briefly see the image upon it as she does so, and it would appear to be a rough copy of the design upon the Sunblessed Amulet.

http://th01.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2013/123/b/7/talisman_of_the_sun_by_elleshaped-d63xxze.png

”Please, Mr. Moorheim, take it with you. I’m sure it will prove more useful in your possession than it ever has in mine. Now then, gentlemen, since you all seem to be willing to participate in this endeavor, I would like to formally extend my gratitude here and now, whether you succeed or fail. The knowledge that you may uncover could prove to be invaluable not only to those interested in the past, but to those suffering in the present. If what I have learned about this amulet is true, it could be the end of invasions by mobs of undead outside the walls, should it be utilized intelligently.” She begins slowly pacing through the sitting area of the library, her dress making slight swish noises as she does so. ”Adaine: that map should lead you to the door you must pass through in order to access the deeper portion of Moorhelm. If I have interpreted these texts correctly, you should be able to locate it if you work together with the others. Unfortunately, I cannot be sure just how deep it lies, meaning that this journey may take you longer than any you have gone on before. Have caution, all of you, even I cannot be completely sure as to what precautions the Dwarves of old took to keep their home safe…” Lady Pharana stops her pacing, staring into the magical fire in the hearth.

Suddenly, footsteps are heard, along with a slight jingling sound, as Melinda enters the room holding a large, cloth sack. Lady Pharana quickly clears a spot on the large table, allowing Melinda to empty the sack’s contents upon it. Four platinum coins clatter onto the stone surface, quickly followed by what appears to be around two hundred gold pieces. Melinda quickly divides the loot into four equal parts, bringing each of the four men a single platinum piece and fifty gold pieces, amounting to one hundred and fifty gold each.

Lady Pharana gives a quiet ”Thank you.” to Melinda, who then departs from the library once more. After giving the four men a minute to inspect, count and store their payment, Lady Pharana sits down once again, looking slightly anxious as she speaks. ”There is one last thing of which I should inform you…Perhaps you have heard of my recent altercation with a certain Malec Dustwalker? The richest man in Moorhollow? The reason I have not been happy with him as of late is because I am certain he has also been sending people into the ruins in search of something, although he refused to tell me what. What is so worrying about this is that both the man and the woman he has been sending in most frequently are necromancers. I fear what it is that they may seek in the depths... We Vampires typically do not appreciate the Necromantic Arts, given that such foul powers are used to bend undead creatures to one’s will…And like it or not, all Vampires reside within that category.” Lady Pharana nervously taps her fingers on her knee. ”I tell you this because I am quite sure that Dustwalker will be quite interested in any of the information I have given you, along with any you possess or come to find, concerning both the Amulet and the Moorhelm Ruins themselves. I implore you to refuse his requests, even if he sweetens them with the promise of gold.” Pharana looks at each of the men in turn, her gaze lingering particularly on Balaern.

[Mrputts]

As Brandis tucks the coins away into his pouch, he nods to Lady Pharana in acknowledgement of her words.

He then turns to Gerald

"We should eat, and rest before we depart for the ruins."

Brandis then walks back towards the door.

[KnightSteve]

"Now, M'Lady, as much as I love money and earning back my inheritance, I will not be helping Necromancers. That is a dark evil that many of my kind may implore, but my family forbade me to ever partake in. I would be lost in hells worse than some of the regions out here if I were to take dark money. Your secret is safe with me."
Balaern does think about how big a bag of money he could get before turning away from that thought. It would not bring back honor to my name, and there's no bragging in hell he thinks to himself

[Razorstorm]

Gerald rolls up the scroll with reverence, his face hardening with determination. "Well get started tomorrow morning. Do you have any other resources we should study before we take off?" Looking at his new companions, "Gentlemen, if you don't already have lodgings, I'm sure I could find a bed for you at my place. If you're all accommodated, then let's meet at the town fountain tomorrow morning and set out."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

At hearing Gerald's request for more resources, Pharana gives a small smile, before unloading three dusty books from the table into his arms. The largest is titled "Collected Legends and Tales of the Dwarven People", the mid-sized volume is tattered and looks nearly as old as the scroll and is titled (In Dwarven) "Births and Burials of the Royal House of Oathelm", while the smallest is barely larger than a journal and is titled "The Anthology of Light: Poems of the Sun". As she is handing them to Gerald, she speaks directly to Balaern.

"Thank you so much, Balaern. Your discretion is appreciated. I do hope that this expedition proves to be the first of many successful ones for you. If you prove to be as skilled as you are principled, perhaps I will speak to Ms. Nirinath on your behalf. It may not win you entrance to your home city, but it could prove to be the first step towards redemption." Realizing that she's gotten a little bit too personal with this line of conversation, she stands, nodding at Brandis as he turns and departs. "I wish you a safe trip in the ruins. Remember: Have caution around Dustwalker and do not forget that his lackeys may have already begun their own explorations. Thorin said he had not seen either of the Necromancers near the ruin entrances recently, but I still recommend utmost caution. Good night, all of you." As she bids the four men farewell, she waves her hand at the fire, causing it to sputter and die, before evaporating into thick mist and rapidly streaming through the grate in the room's ceiling.

Melinda comes along, looking absolutely exhausted, but still cheerfully seeing the four men out of Glimmerden Estate. Handing them any cloaks that you had hung up, she thanks everyone for visiting, before shutting the door. Outside, the storm has died down considerably, with only a faint, pleasant drizzle falling from the sky. Although it is still quite cold, the rain feels clean and fresh compared to the dusty winds of the wastes.

Perception DC 16
As the door closed, there was a slight sound coming from beyond a short wall around 20 feet away, as well as the slightest glimpse of a humanoid shape in the darkness. The figure quickly scuttled away, moving quickly and quietly towards the edge of Lady Pharana's property.

[Razorstorm]

As they walk out of the house, Gerald is pre-occupied with one of the tomes, briefly flipping through a few pages before placing it carefully into his bag.

[Mrputts]

Brandis follows Gerald.


"I believe I will take you up on that room Gerald. Perhaps we may talk more."

[KnightSteve]

"Hey," Balaern almost whispers as he taps Gerald on the shoulder. "I just saw a creature jump that wall over there. Do you think we should check it out, or at least get one of the vampire thralls to? I am itching to look and if we go look, you big armored folk stay way behind. We need to sneak up on it."


OOC: I will leave it up to y'all if you want to pursue or not. A follow up post will be written if we follow, and my stealth/perception rolls.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine grins cheekily to Balaern. "I fancy myself a dab hand at sneaking about to uncover secrets. I'll accompany you if need be."

And if worst comes to worst, I've plenty of tricks up my sleeve, he recalls.

True indeed, agrees the voice.

We lend you our power, youth. Use it well.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald looks at Balaern with raised eyebrows. He look from him to Adaine then at Brandis, looks back at their sneaker counterparts, nods and motions for the two of them to move ahead, then looks back to Brandi's and holds his finger to his mouth in a "shhh" signal. He reaches out an takes Adaine's bag of books he's lugging, and slings it over his own shoulder. He's not going anywhere fast anyhow.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Adaine takes a few steps forward, he stumbles over a half-buried bit of a stone wall and falls over, making a loud crash! in the process. Simultaneously, Balaern seems to melt into the shadows, darting through the darkness without even the slightest sound. Following the figure's path, Balaern is able to clearly make out what would appear to be an unusually quick and nimble corpse making its way towards a ruined building not too far from the main portion of Glimmerden Estate. It approaches the doorway to the building, and a hooded figure emerges, completely unaffected by the undead monstrosity before it. Laying a hand upon the zombie's forehead, the hooded figure's hand glows faintly with a dark purple light, his eyes following suit before quickly returning to normal.

Arcana DC 15
The hooded figure is clearly a necromancer. More importantly, however, the necromancer has cast a spell that transferred everything the undead creature has seen and heard to him/her.

Balaern can just barely make out a horrible smile underneath the cloak before the necromancer points towards the general direction of the party, and the zombie dashes back towards where Adaine, Gerald and Brandis stand. The Necromancer then steps out of the ruined building, followed by four shamblers and a stout dwarf holding a large warhammer, several throwing hammers at his belt. The necromancer calls out in a raspy voice: "Thank you for the information, infidels." He turns and addresses the other undead and the Dwarf. "Kill them all and curse their souls to Tenebrous!" The Dwarf, seeming uncomfortable with the whole situation, shrugs, hefting his warhammer and charging towards the three humans in silence.

We're about to get into our first combat encounter here! I will post the map at the bottom of the screen without any tokens, and then I will repost with tokens tomorrow. I suggest that everyone gets acquainted with how their character works mechanically and such. Balaern may take a surprise round if he wishes.

Map
http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=33882
Balern: n17
Adaine: A13
Brandis: E11
Gerald: G10

[KnightSteve]

Preparatory Shot targeting the Necromancer
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]
Sneak Attack Damage: [roll2]

First Strike & it being a Surprise Round gives me CA over him.

[Mrputts]

HP:23/23 AC:18 Fort:15 Ref:11 Will:15
Surges:7 Surge Value:5

Seeing the Zombies, Brandis steps to the side, and clutches his holy symbol.

Shift from E11 to D12 (I assume that Lime will be handling all token moves.)

For a brief moment he closes his eyes.

"May her wings carry you to the other side."

As he releases the Medallion. A bright light shots from it past Adaine towards a zombie.

Lance of Faith
Target: Skulking Zombie (y16)
Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1] Radiant
One ally I can see Gerald gains +2 power bonus to his next attack roll against that target.

[Razorstorm]

HP: 24 / 24 AC: 16 Fort: 14 Ref: 14 Will: 16
Surges: 8 Surge Value: 6


Squinting his eyes at the hooded figure, and realizing what he just did, Gerald growls and steps forward, shoulder to to shoulder with Brandis. He bows his head momentarily, his staff held vertically in front of him, and reaches inside to find the flame of hope in his heart. He looks directly at the Necromancer, and calls out passionately, "Not today, fiend! Not today!" His eye's glow with a slight radiance, and he jabs his staff at the dwarf, and a beam of sunlight streaks toward him. He then throws both hands into the air, summoning a column of light vertically from the ground, engulfing both the dwarf and the skulking zombie.

Move to F13, shoulder to shoulder with Brandis.

Sun Strike on the dwarf
Hit: vs Ref
Damage: [roll1] radiant damage.
If hits, slide him to y18, and he gains Radiant vulnerability 3.

Action Point

Brilliant Beacon - Burst 1 centered on z17.
Hit Zombie: [roll2] vs Will (since I go before Brandis this turn I don't get his bonus till next turn)
Hit Dwarf: [roll3] vs Will
If either of those miss, then he'll use Heroic Effort to add +4, with priority to the Dwarf.

Hit: The target takes ongoing 10 radiant damage (save ends).
Miss: 5 radiant damage.

Effect: The burst creates a zone of brilliant light (Burst 1 centered on z17) that lasts until the end of your next turn. As part of a move action, you can move the zone up to 6 squares. Enemies in the zone take a -2 penalty to attack rolls, defenses, and saving throws. The zone ends at the end of your turn if you are within the zone. (So no damage this turn, but at the start of their turn. Be sure to include the +3 radiant vulnerability from Sun Strike on the dwarf if that hit)

Powers

At will:
Hand of Radiance
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One, two, or three creatures
Attack: [roll] 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d4+4 radiant damage.
Sun Strike
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One creature
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d8+4 radiant damage, and you slide the target 1 square, and gains Radiant Vulnerability 3.
Special: You can use this power as a ranged basic attack.
Melee Basic with Staff
Melee weapon
Target: One creature
Attack: 1d20+3 vs AC

Hit: 1d8

Encounter:
[X] Action Point this encounter. Total: 0
[ ] Blades of Astral Fire
Encounter
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10
Target: Each enemy in the burst
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d6+4 radiant damage.
Effect: Each ally in the burst gains a +2 power bonus to AC until the end of your next turn. (Covenant of Preservation: The bonus to AC equals 1 + your Intelligence modifier.)
[ ] Heroic Effort
Encounter
No Action Personal
Trigger: You miss with an attack or fail a saving throw.

Effect: You gain a +4 racial bonus to the attack roll or the saving throw.

Daily:
[X]Brilliant Beacon
Daily
Divine, Fear, Implement, Radiant, Zone
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10 squares
Target: Each enemy in the burst
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Will

Hit: The target takes ongoing 10 radiant damage (save ends).
Miss: 5 radiant damage.

Effect: The burst creates a zone of brilliant light that lasts until the end of your next turn. As part of a move action, you can move the zone up to 6 squares. Enemies in the zone take a -2 penalty to attack rolls, defenses, and saving throws. The zone ends at the end of your turn if you are within the zone.
Sustain Minor: The zone persists.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine steps forward, his hands quivering as a low hum begins to emanate from his palms. I call upon Yuri the Hunter, he whispers in his mind, he whose horn inspired the armies of Nerath to surge triumphantly into battle!

A wise choice, chuckles His Majesty. As Adaine steps forwards, advancing on the Dwarf and the skulking zombie, he slowly raises his hands and levels them at the enemies. "I've learned a thing or two from ancient spellbooks," he calls to Gerald. "Might as well test them in the field!"

As the humming intensifies, Adaine focuses on the Dwarf's life force, binding it to his own as he was shown in the Confluence. Concentrate.. concentrate...

A great bugle horn erupts, sound exploding outwards towards the enemies.

Move Action: Move to z-16.

Minor Action: Apply Warlock's Curse to the Dwarf.

Standard Action: Clarion call vs. Dwarf and Skulk Zombie.
Attack: [roll0] vs. Dwarf's Fortitude
Attack: [roll1] vs. Skulk Zombie's Fortitude
Hit: [roll2] thunder damage, and Adaine gains 3 temporary hit points for each enemy he hits. (That's 0, 3, or 6, for those of you who don't like math.)

The sound shudders through his enemies' forms, but both stand resolute in the face of his attack. Adaine frowns. Well, that could have gone better.

Do not fret, youth! His Majesty's power will guide you yet through this battle, assures his advisor. Quick, act now, before they can retaliate!

[Angel Bob]

Confound it, the dice roller got all messed up. Here we go again.

Action Point: Eyes of the vestige vs. Dwarf
Attack: [roll0] vs. Dwarf's Will (That +1 is Prime Shot, and the +2 is Arcane Reserves. Feel free to check my math if you think I did something wrong; addition has never been my strong suit.)
Hit: [roll1] psychic damage (that 1d6 is from Warlock's Curse), and Adaine applies his Warlock's Curse to the Skulk Zombie. Furthermore, one ally who hits the target before the end of Adaine’s next turn can roll a saving throw.

Adaine's eyes glow with a silvery light, reaching invisible tendrils to the Dwarf's mind and soul. If the connection holds, that spectral energy extends to the zombie as well, binding all three together.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As the Necromancer steps forward, his eyes beginning to glow with a terrible violet light and mouth fixed in an unnerving rictus grin, he suddenly stops and grunts in pain as a crossbow bolt suddenly flies from the shadows, embedding itself deep in his shoulder. Whipping around to find the source, he barely makes out the figure near the side of Glimmerden Estate and glares with malice. "You'll pay in blood for that, Drow." He wrenches his hand into a deformed claw shape and jerks it towards Balaern. As he does so, the zombie that had begun advancing on Adaine suddenly turns on its heels and sprints towards the Drow, its mouth hanging open and its movements unpredictably quick and erratic.

The Necromancer turns in surprise as Gerald emanates what appears to be pure sunlight, hissing in frustration as it finds its mark on the Dwarf and then on his Zombie minion. As the Dwarf is struck by the divine radiance of Pelor, he gives a loud grunt in pain, his beard smoking slightly. He manages to stand his ground and avoid being slid back in his tracks. However, just as he and the zombie make to charge their respective targets, a huge deluge of pure radiant energy erupts from the ground. The Dwarf seems confused as to why it hasn't harmed him yet and readies himself to charge.

The quicker zombie begins its animalistic charge towards Balaern, nearly running on all fours as it hisses and growls, its mouth hanging open grotesquely. However, it stops and howls with pain as Gerald's divine invocation takes effect, its rotting skin burning and sizzling. This only seems to enrage it further, as it lopes across the ash-covered ground with lightning speed, raking claws across Balaern's body and drawing blood. (11 damage) Soon after, Gerald feels the effect of his god's power upon the creature fade as the Necromancer waves a hand, sending a chill through the air.

Brandis steps forward, allowing the wintry wrath of the Raven Queen to fill his body. However, as he raises his hand and releases a blast of divine energy towards the shambling corpse, it curves around it and strikes the ground. The Necromancer laughs, his voice dry and hoarse. "Your god is pitiful and weak. May Tenebrous have mercy on your soul for daring to worship such a pathetic excuse for a god of death, for I have no mercy at all." He then raises both hands in the air and pushes them forward, making the zombies begin to actively seek out prey. Three of them begin slowly making their way towards Gerald, Adaine and Brandis, notably avoiding the column of sunshine and radiance created by Gerald. One manages to reach Balaern, but gives a clumsy swipe that he dodges with little effort.

Although Adaine's first attempt to summon the powers from the Confluence falters, he finds that his second attempt summons a huge amount of energy, making the Dwarf reel with pain again, dropping his warhammer and clawing at his head as his eyes begin to glow silver, linking him to the nearby zombie. (He's bloodied) As the Dwarf attmepts to recover from the horrific barrage of overwhelming power directed towards him, Gerald's beam of brilliant light suddenly burns bright, bringing him to his knees and forcing him to keel over. (Now dead/unconscious, Adaine gains his pact boon benefit) As this happens, the Necromancer stomps the ground in rage, his face twisted and inhuman. "It cost my master quite a bit of money to buy that Dwarf's services..I suppose I'll have to replace him with one of your corpses. I believe I'll start with...you!" He points towards Gerald and Brandis, his hand crackling with purple lightning. With a rough pushing motion, he shoots a bolt of lightning that turns from purple to black as it strikes the ground between Brandis and Gerald. A swirling vortex of black energy erupts, pulling in ash and dirt as it whips into a violent whirlwind. Brandis is able to stand his ground, but Gerald's injured leg fails him, making him stumble into the vortex, As he does so, he can hear thousands of whispering voices, telling him to give up hope as he feels a terrible, deathly energy gripping his very soul. (10 necrotic damage and pulled to E14) The Necromancer, seeming displeased with how events are turning out, stands his ground, mumbling furiously.

Map
http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=34139

[Razorstorm]

HP: 14 / 24 AC: 16 Fort: 14 Ref: 14 Will: 16
Surges: 8 Surge Value: 6


Reeling from the necrotic torrent, Gerald pulls himself from from one knee, and grimaces at the necromancer from across the field. He lunges to both feet, his staff sweeping up above his head. The pillar of light he had summoned dissipated from it's current location and then shoots upward around the necromancer. Then with his left hand he points three times and three beams of light lash out at the three zombies near Adaine.

Minor - sustain the zone
Move - move the Brilliant Beacon zone to center on the Necromancer.
Standard - Hand of Radiance at the three nearby zombies.

Hand of Radiance
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One, two, or three creatures
Attack1: vs. Reflex
Hit1: [roll1] radiant damage.

Attack2: [roll2] vs. Reflex
Hit2: [roll3] radiant damage.

Attack2: [roll4] vs. Reflex
Hit3: [roll5] radiant damage.


Powers

At will:
Hand of Radiance
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One, two, or three creatures
Attack: [roll] 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d4+4 radiant damage.
Sun Strike
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One creature
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d8+4 radiant damage, and you slide the target 1 square, and gains Radiant Vulnerability 3.
Special: You can use this power as a ranged basic attack.
Melee Basic with Staff
Melee weapon
Target: One creature
Attack: 1d20+3 vs AC

Hit: 1d8

Encounter:
[X] Action Point this encounter. Total: 0
[ ] Blades of Astral Fire
Encounter
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10
Target: Each enemy in the burst
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Reflex

Hit: 1d6+4 radiant damage.
Effect: Each ally in the burst gains a +2 power bonus to AC until the end of your next turn. (Covenant of Preservation: The bonus to AC equals 1 + your Intelligence modifier.)
[ ] Heroic Effort
Encounter
No Action Personal
Trigger: You miss with an attack or fail a saving throw.

Effect: You gain a +4 racial bonus to the attack roll or the saving throw.

Daily:
[X]Brilliant Beacon
Daily
Divine, Fear, Implement, Radiant, Zone
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10 squares
Target: Each enemy in the burst
Attack: 1d20+5 vs. Will

Hit: The target takes ongoing 10 radiant damage (save ends).
Miss: 5 radiant damage.

Effect: The burst creates a zone of brilliant light that lasts until the end of your next turn. As part of a move action, you can move the zone up to 6 squares. Enemies in the zone take a -2 penalty to attack rolls, defenses, and saving throws. The zone ends at the end of your turn if you are within the zone.
Sustain Minor: The zone persists.

[KnightSteve]

HP: 15/26 AC: 16 FO: 12 RE: 14 WI: 13
Surges: 8/8 Surge Value: 6

Balaern steps back to get the zombies off his boots. But first he disappears in a cloud of darkness to gain stealth over them. Once away, he shoots an arrow at the smaller zombie before hiding in the shadows of the building. The zombie feels the arrow in his side, and lets off an angry growl as Balaern strings another arrow to the crossbow as he tries to hold off the zombie onslaught.

[Mrputts]

Brandis stares at the Necromancer as he is being mocked.

"She may be, but I do not need her to strike you down"

Brandis charges towards the Necromancer. Griping his Waraxe with both hands.
Unless the Necromancer moves. (In that case I will post another attack.)
Move Action: 5 spaces C13,B14,A15,z16,z17
Standard Action:Charge 5 spaces z18,y19,x20,v20,u20. I will take any opportunity attacks I incur.
Attack:(basic Melee)[roll0] vs. AC
Damage:[roll1] (6 + 1 for two handed Versatile.)

[Mrputts]

Brandis pulls his Waraxe back.

"You shall burn in divine flame!"

The Waraxe becomes wreathed in a bright blue flame. As Brandis swings the axe down the flames grow, and engulfs the necromancer.

Action point
Avenging flame
Attack: [roll0] vs. AC
Damage: [roll1] fire. & ongoing 5 fire. (Save ends) If the target attacks on its turn, it can't make a saving throw against the ongoing that turn,
Miss: half damage no ongoing.

[Mrputts]

Heroic effort Racial
No Action
You miss an attack or fail a save.
Effect: You gain a +4 racial bonus to the attack roll or the saving throw.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine watches the proceedings as if in a daze. He barely moves, merely glancing at the nearest shambler and muttering unheard arcane syllables...

Minor Action: Place Warlock's Curse on Zombie 3.

Standard Action: Eyes of the vestige vs. Zombie 3
Attack: [roll0] vs. Zombie 3's Will
Hit: [roll1] psychic damage plus [roll2] untyped damage, and Adaine applies his Warlock's Curse to the Necromancer.

Silver light flashes from his eyes and the zombie before him as it clutches its rotting hands to its head. That same light leaps from the shambler to its dark master, who shudders as he feels his own life force seized by an ancient power. Discreetly, Adaine smirks. How does it feel, necromancer? Are you so keen to toy with life force now? he chuckles to himself.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Gerald feels the divine warmth entwined with his soul flare with triumph as he calls upon its might, beams of brilliant sunlight arcing from him and inexorably making their way towards the shamblers. One by one, they drop to the ground, their rotting flesh turning to ash as they crumble away to near-nothingness. The necromancer turns his face towards Gerald, his eyes widening with a mixture of anger and perhaps...fear. "You have no idea what you are doing you old drunk. Give up now befor-" The man's sentence as cut short as the area of brilliant light moves to cover him just as Brandis charges toward him, striking his chest with a large axe. Blood spews from the wound and the necromancer screams as Brandis raises his axe once more, now alight with the brilliantly cold flames of the Queen of Winter. The necromancer crumbles under the onslaught of divine power and mortal wounds, letting out a last few words as his life fades:"Tenebrous..forgive..me..." He collapses into the ashen dirt on the ground pathetically, his hood falling off to reveal a large tattoo on his shaven head.

Adaine feels himself fill with arcane might once more as both creatures he cursed are vanquished, and is easily able to make out the tatoo on the necromancer's forehead as being identical to the one he had seen earlier in Libris Mortis.

Balaern skulks into the darkness that Lolth's power grants him, easily dispatching the decrepit corpse before him with a quick shot between the eyes with his crossbow. Simultaneously, the quick zombie lunges for him, misses entirely, then suddenly collapses and stops moving as the necromancer falls into unconsciousness.

Suddenly, the large stone front door to Glimmerden Estate swing open, revealing Aramil holding a longbow, arrow already notched. His expression is determined, but he seems taken aback at the sight of the four men standing while all of their enemies lie defeated. "I heard the commotion and assumed the worst..Are you all unharmed? Lady Pharana has entered torpor and could not be disturbed, but I am sure she will want any details once she rises. Who was that man?" Aramil takes a few steps down the stairs and into the walkway, bow in hand.

[Angel Bob]

Breathing quickly and heavily, Adaine glances at his three comrades' eyes. None seem too inquisitive of his abilities. Good. They trust that your spells come from mere books.

Adaine frowns slightly. To go so long deceiving Gerald, his mentor, is against his ethics. Yet the voice in his head assures him: Fear not. There will come a time to reveal our combined power to him. But for now, best not to distract him from good Pelor's artifact. Its retrieval is key.

The young warlock nods his head with one swift movement, out of habit and courtesy, despite the fact that he is speaking to shadows. Yes, Your Majesty. I pride myself on my secret-keeping ability, says he, even as his eyes note the necromancer's tattoo and his mind flashes back to the book in his rucksack.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald cautiously approaches the fallen necromancer, wary of any tricks. He looks back at Aramil over his shoulder, panting, the fire in his heart calming down. "A sorceror of death. Based on what your Lady told us, I'd hazard a guess that he's connected to Lord Dustwalker, but I'd hate to make hasty assumptions." He looks around at the fallen bodies, shaking his head. "What a mess. May you find the hope in eternity that you could not find here."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Aramil sighs audibly as he surveys the various bodies strewn about the area. "I suppose I'll have to contact some of the Ravenguard to take care of the corpses. Wouldn't want any of them coming back, especially the necromancer." The Elf keeps his bow out and shakes his long dark hair out of his eyes, trying to get a better look at the body of the Dwarf in the darkness. "Oh. This one isn't dead. I'll have to get a message out to the Moorhollow Guard as well. Lady Pharana would likely be interested in speaking with the bald man there though, if the rest of you would not object. I'm sure nobody would complain if he were to go missing..." Aramil steps over to the unconscious necromancer and begins tying his arms behind his back.

[KnightSteve]

"That is fine with me. Less trouble I have to worry about. You can have someone lug him into the manor, and we can get ready for our mission. It seems like we need a plan, so this kind of thing won't happen again. Thank you Aramil."

[Mrputts]

"We should go. Leave them to their fate."

Brandis gestures to Gerald to lead the way.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Aramil gives Balaern a curt nod. "Safe travels. I will send a message if we discover anything after interrogating the necromancer here. I am sure that Lady Pharana will be pleased you managed to keep him alive." The Elf finishes tying the man's legs before picking him up with a quiet grunt, slinging him over his shoulder and beginning to walk towards the front door of Glimmerden Estate.

It is very late at night by now, and the thick, grey clouds completely block out any light, making it difficult for all but the Drow to maneuver their way towards the proper section of Moorhollow. As the group enters a more densely-populated section of town, they see a group of men and women rush by, all wearing black cloaks and with hoods, their necks adorned with symbols of The Raven Queen. A tall human among their number presses two fingers to his lips as he passes Brandis, muttering a quick word of greeting before hurrying in the direction of Glimmerden Estate.

The four men can get a good night's rest now, but there is still enough time to plan before resting should they desire to do so.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald gets Balearn situated with a room for the night, and prepares some tea in his study, inviting Balearn and Adaine to join him.

"I'd love to talk more personal matters with both you, but I fear we have limited time to pour over the resources given us by Lady Pharana. The details we study tonight may soon make the difference between life and death. I say we each dig in and piece together as much knowledge of where we are headed as possible. I'm sure we'll many nights around a campfire, not to mention endless hours of walking, ahead of us when we can enjoy each others company more."

Assuming they agree.... let the preparations begin.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The night passes uneventfully, letting everyone get a fulfilling rest. In the wee hours of the morning, as the pitch black darkness gives way to the sickly, grey color that passes for dawn, the men begin to hear the noises of the children downstairs as they go about their morning chores, as well as the barking voice of the matron, insisting that they keep quiet.

[KnightSteve]

Balaern wakes up, thankful for having a bed and not just a bedroll on a rock or in a tree to sleep on. He grabs his stuff and begins putting it on while calling out to the others. "Oi, are you all up? Let's get moving before the city becomes too busy. We need to reach our destination by nightfall. Who has the map to get there?"

[Razorstorm]

Gerald is up and about, finalizing his travelling pack. He is clearly flustered.

"I've gone through my supplies again and again, but I'm just certain I'm going to forget something. And I know we're going to need these books, but I just can't imagine bringing anything more! Ugh!" With sigh, he looks at Balaern. "I've never done this... adventuring... thing. And the harsh reality of what we're about to do is suddenly seeming very... overwhelming."

He takes a sip of tea, shakes his head at his pack, "Well, I suppose I'm as ready as I'm going to get."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

After some rudimentary planning and some last minute stops for supplies at a few of the local shops, the four adventurers find themselves in front of the Southern entrance to the Moorhelm Ruins.

A large mound of earth dominates this area, with a stone archway roughly built into the front and supported by a few wooden poles inside. This particular entrance was constructed by workers in Moorhollow, as it had collapsed long before any settlers came to the land. However, as Adaine told the group, it contained passages to some of the oldest known areas of the ruins, some of which had entire areas yet to be explored at all. Consulting the map given to them by Lady Pharana, it can be determined that this jourmey will take them far outside the sections previously explored; perhaps deep enough to compare to the dephs of Ust Natha and other Drow settlements. The exploration could take more than a week, but the rations in the various packs and satchels the group carries should be enough to sustain the party.

Peering into the dirt passageway, a stone hallway can be seen continuing from where it had previously been destroyed by a collapse, quickly leading towards a set of square stone steps leading downward at a steep incline to what Adaine knows to be a large entryway of sorts; a room that likely had little use but decoration in the past. Despite its current, rather dilapidated appearance, the various carvings and eroded stone statues strewn about give the party some idea of the incredible beauty the place once possessed. Carefully stepping over bits of broken fountains and strange metal mechanisms, almost rusted away, the men leave the relative safety of the ash-choked air of the surface and head further downwards.

Brandishing torches, sunrods and perhaps even magical light from Pelor himself, the intrepid group begins its descent into the dank, dark and incredibly ancient ruins in search of the Sunblessed Amulet.

[KnightSteve]

"I will take the lead as I probably have better vision and stealth than all of you. No offense. I can keep an eye out for traps as well. Let's get see how far we can get today." With that Balaern takes out his crossbow as a safety precaution, and begins the descent. The grandeur of this place is not out of his mind as he sees the rubble of what must have been a great place long ago. It feels like hours, but only meer minutes have passed by when Balaern catches something a bit off. There is some sort of trap in the next fifteen feet.

"STOP!" he yells at the party "I see something amiss, and need a moment to try and trigger it." Balaern gets out his thieves' tools, and begins trying to stop the mechanism of the fireball trap. After about ten minutes, he turns around to the group and gives them a thumbs up that he got it, and continues forward. What he doesn't know is that it was a double trap and he sets off the second trap, and almost misses getting hit. It catches his hair on fire, but he hurries up and drops to the ground to avoid a second fireball. "You just have to crawl or roll through that spot. I cannot come back across without taking another fireball to the face. I will scout this side and make sure we have no more issues. When we're all across, we can continue. I hope you're up for this Gerald. We can't lose our leader this early."

[Angel Bob]

"Nice job," Adaine admits to Balaern, sighing to himself. If only drow would act a little less arrogant, perhaps there wouldn't be such conflict between them and the surface folk. Ah well.

"Let's try to keep on track," he murmurs, calling forth the layout of the ruins in his mind. "The dwarven books mentioned some unstable corridors here. I'd hate to go toppling into the earth. Looks like we need to go... thataway."

History: [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald crawls on his belly through the trapped area, grunting heavily. "Don't worry about me, but thank you for finding that," he admits to Balaern.

After following Adaine's guidance through the area, the come across a bass relief wall. "Oh my goodness," he sighs, "this is incredible. One moment please." He pulls out some paper and starts sketching. After a few minutes, "Wait a moment. See this section here?" gesturing to a section of the wall. "This is depicting a public ceremony. It didn't have anything to do with my diety, but I've seen this be described in reference to another old god they used to worship. But I think those stairs there are literal. Let's look for those stairs!"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

After several narrow escapes, clever plans and close-calls, the four men make their way into a gigantic room, with a ceiling stretching upwards nearly one hundred feet. Everything here is well-preserved, with the stone walls intricately inlaid with precious metals and tiny, sparkling gems. The stairs behind the group had kept them walking for nearly an hour, but this room conveniently has several stone benches lined up facing a humongous set of black, stone doors with no handles and a gigantic symbol depicting a raven clasping a crescent moon in one of its talons, and the sun in its other.

A path made of complex mosaic tiles leads towards the doors, which themselves are nearly twenty feet tall. Some Davek script is barely legible in ancient lettering at slightly below head level on the door, but it is archaic and not easily understood.

Perception DC 16
A faint musty smell mixed with various strange chemical smells can be detected wafting through the tiny cracks in the stone doors. It's unclear what exactly these scents mean, but they are vaguely reminiscent of a morgue.

History DC 15
"The Davek script on the door seems to be intentionally vague and cryptic, but translates roughly as: "Here be that which both Sun and Raven do abhor. Forever remain sealed, beyond this impenetrable door. Beware those who seek for treasure and for lore, for those who are reckless will wake up on Death's Shore."

Religion DC 12
This room is similar to some ancient temples to various gods, back before practices were as regimented as they are today. Often, gods who were thought to have similar spheres of influence or interest were worshiped simultaneously, sometimes even being treated as a single deity. The benches here were likely pews long ago, yet the altar (or whatever was used) should lie where the door stands.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald studies the grand setting for a few minutes, taking in the details. He first reads the Davek script haltingly in Davek. He looks at Adaine, "It's Davek, isn't it? Something like "Here be that which both Sun and Raven do abhor. Forever remain sealed, beyond this impenetrable door. Beware those who seek for treasure and for lore, for those who are reckless will wake up on Death's Shore." Well that's a warning if I've ever heard one." He chuckles dryly. "The Sun, and ravens? I wonder what...?" then he looks at Brandis and suddenly his his eyes widen in a moment of epiphany.

"Not just ravens. THE Raven. The Raven Queen perhaps? And THE Sun? Could this be a joint shrine to both of our gods? How amazing! But why...?" He starts pacing about nervously, gesticulating with the hand not holding his staff. "It's not like there's that much overlap in their doctrine, at least not from what I've seen. Is there a common foe between the two? And what is the crescent there? I'm not sure what the moon means." He stops pacing and in the center of the room, looking up at the giant door. "Whatever it is, it sounds like that thing is behind that door. Presumably it should stay there." He looks at Balaern crankily. "And WHAT is that SMELL? It smells like death..." Another epiphany. "Not death. Un-death! Both the Lightbringer and your Raven Queen are enemies of the undead!"

He sobers very quickly. "Whatever's behind that door was meant to stay there. I'm not sure we should open it." He looks over the giant door again, then back to his companions. "Frankly, I'm not even sure how we would. What do you lot think?"

[KnightSteve]

"If what you're saying is true, then we are going to be working together for a long time. The Raven Queen has given me a friend among the thousands of foes out there. And yes I do smell the undeath smell. I haven't the knowledge to know what it means, but if you want I won't open that door. Let's look for something else then?" Balaern starts looking for other things of interest while his companions continue searching the room. It seems like they're in a bit of a pickle, and Balaern wants to get to the end quickly so he can get paid.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

After quietly leafing through several old maps and texts, Adaine looks up at the rest of the group. From what he has been able to gather, there are really only two ways to get into the area of the Moorhelm Ruins that they need to access to find the Sunblessed Amulet. One lies beyond the gigantic door in front of the group, with a huge raven staring down at them.

The other would require backtracking up the flight of stairs and accessing the deepest areas through ancient mine shafts that connect to extremely deep caverns said to reach miles beneath the earth. Most texts make reference to the slaying of a terrible beast there, many years ago, which promptly returned to life and killed everyone nearby, forcing the miners to seal off that area. The mines are likely able to be crossed now, but also precarious, unstable and dangerous.

The book is vague about exact details of the beast, but it's possible that some member of the party has heard of similar creatures in the past...

Arcana or Dungeoneering DC 19
The legend is likely referring to a Remorhaz, an immense creature hailing from outside of the natural world. It appears to be a gigantic centipede made of glass, able to channel raw elemental power through its body. One trapped deep underground for many years and returning as an undead monstrosity would likely make it even more dangerous, however, as well as unpredictable. Remorhaz are so resilient that it could still be living, deep down in the caverns somewhere.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald runs a hand across his bald pate, and sighs. "Well, I'm not sure our options are much safer going around. Any idea how we could get past this door? Doesn't look like there's a lock, or even a handle for that matter."

He walks up to the door, and presses his palms against it to see what he feels.

[Angel Bob]

"If we could get the door open, we ought to be perfectly safe," Adaine mutters to Gerald. "You wield the power of the Lightbringer, and Brandis that of the Raven Queen. Plus, I picked up a radiant spell while rooting through dwarven holy books. Undead pose little threat to us. The trick will be opening this door..."

The young warlock fixes his eyes on the raven imagery. As his thoughts turn to the matter of undeath, they also flash back to the eerie book in his rucksack. A thought occurs to him. The Libris Mortis is a treatise on the Demon Prince of Undead, is it not? If I could access the secrets of that book... could I perhaps compel the undead within to open the door for us?

Arcana: (to see if the idea is within Adaine's power) [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald studies the door, trying to understand the nature of any possible enchantments.
Arcana [roll0]

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Adaine focuses hard on what's beyond the door and the possibility of harnessing them to his own benefit, a faint, familiar voice fills his ears. "I told you there is great power to be wielded. Will you use it? You will never prevail without my help, boy. You may be weak now, but I can make you strong." Adaine briefly feels a surge of necromantic energy sweep through him, causing a small amount of pain before settling inside him, seeming to wait to be accessed. The vestiges that lurk within his mind give out small cries of pain or surprise at this, and fall silent for a moment. before long, their voices return, however, yet the power remains.

Gerald's hand finds the door warm to the touch and made of stone that is as smooth as polished marble. Coming up close, he is able to notice that both the sun and the crescent moon in the picture glow faintly, clearly with some sort of sealed magical energy. After taking a moment to probe both the magics of the door and the information he himself has read in the past, Gerald comes up with a pretty good idea of how the door works.

The door itself is sealed on both sides with two very different wards. The one just behind the door reminds him of his own god's radiance; it feels unbearably bright, even through the door, and likely serves as a prevention for undead to come through the door. The side of the door that the party is currently at, however, is a cold, deathly sort of magic. Almost the exact opposite of what lies on the other side. The magic would seem to be in intended to absorb and dissipate any magic that tries to reach the other side of the door and essentially "kill" it, converting it into a magical energy that serves to enhance the door's protection instead.

The combined efforts of the group could likely open the doors, but it would not be easy. Unsealing the front part of the door seems particularly difficult, but if it is managed, the inside will be accessible through magical means.

Religion DC 16 (Anyone except Adaine)
There's a strange surge of energy flowing into Adaine's body from some unknown source. It feels necromantic and evil, yet also terribly powerful. A faint whisper is also audible, but it is faint and quickly ceases to be heard.

[Angel Bob]

Slowly, apprehensively, and above all else, discreetly, Adaine leafs through the bloodstained pages of Libris Mortis, until he finds a chapter on commanding and compelling the undead. Here goes nothing.

As he intones the unholy syllables, voices echo in his mind.

What in the Nine Hells do you think you're doing, boy?

What madness is this?

Quiet. It seems I have the right tool for the job... and this is the only job I'll use it for, I promise, Adaine replies.

You know the saying. When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail, replies the angry voice of His Majesty. Don't let necromancy consume you, boy! Put the book down!

Throughout it all, though, Adaine has been quietly muttering the book's words of power in a tongue he does not understand. Even as His Majesty roars in his ear, the youth finishes speaking: "Bo'stharon eis otund... ythtaron."

Adaine's grey eyes glance upwards, even as his mind wills the undead creatures lurking within to yank it open. The warlock fixes his eyes on the huge, black door, wondering what will come of it all.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The party hears a loud whoosh as a rush of energy emanates from several of the men, streaming towards the raven on the door. The symbol begins to glow a brilliant white and hums loudly, making the rest of the room seem darker and colder. Brandis feels a somewhat familiar surge of divine power as the white glow intensifies to a point where all must turn away, lest their eyes burn out.

With a bang, the huge doors slam open and crash into the wall on either side as a rush of disgusting, musty air rushes into the room, assaulting the party's senses. As their eyes begin to adjust, they are able to spot several short, stout figures shambling through the doorway.

The figures are wearing torn and ragged robes and the remnants of some sort of chainmail armor, but their rotting skin and terrible smell betrays their undead nature. However, they make no aggressive moves towards any of the men, and instead lumber towards the huge doors. Around four undead Dwarves make their way to each gigantic, stone door and begin attaching huge chains that are screwed into the back of it into small nodes in the wall, ensuring that the doors cannot easily be closed.

As the dust clears, the room before the party is shown to be a gigantic courtyard of some sort, nearly silent except for occasional shuffling footsteps. The utter darkness blinds all except Balaern to what lies beyond.

Balaern
Balaern spots countless undead Dwarves aimlessly shambling about, seemingly in a completely random fashion. A huge, dry fountain sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by decrepit benches and tables. Six other doorways, only one of which is closed, serve as exits from this grand courtyard to other areas of the ruins.

[KnightSteve]

"Well, it seems we have entered a grand courtyard of the ruins. Be careful not to piss off these dwarves when we start moving again. I'd hate to fight them from the sheer number. Now we have more doors to decide about. Which way does the map say now?" Balaern keeps his eyes on the dwarves as his friends get their ability to see back. His crossbow is at the ready just in case.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald kneels down and lights a torch, then holds it high to pierce the gloom.

"Lightbringer, protect us. For the night is dark, and full of terrors."

[Mrputts]

Brandis' sight returns to him.

"I agree with Balaern. Let's not disturb them.

[Angel Bob]

Hrrmm, Adaine frowns. That didn't work out exactly as I'd intended.

No, it certainly did not -- because there was a morally superior option! cries the King. Now will you finally listen to me and destroy that accursed book?!

Give me some time, Adaine replies. I'd attract unwanted attention if I revealed the Libris Mortis to the rest of the group. Once I find an ideal opportunity, I'll discreetly dispose of it.

Harumph. Very well, I suppose -- but I'm watching you, boy.

Adaine turns to the other three men, putting on a cheery smile. "Well, then! It looks like the path ahead has been cleared. Let's be off!"

With that, the young warlock strides past his colleagues, past the dead dwarves, and into the darkness beyond the door.

[Razorstorm]

"Indeed. We still have a long way to go. Proceed with care, gentlemen."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As the group cautiously makes their way into the gigantic room, several aspects of the environment become apparent. First, the floor of the room is made of mosaic tiles similar to those in the previous room. Minor investigation reveals what appear to be a complex array of Davek lettering and repeating geometric patterning, which would appear to delineate the functions of the different areas beyond the various archways and doors.

Second, the undead Dwarves that chained the door open are now following the party, staying at a respectful distance at all times and sopping when they stop. They do not appear to be aggressive in any way, but none of the other zombies are participating. Only those four seem in any way phased by the party's presence. All wear similar robes and armor, but the cloth is rotted and the armor filthy, so it is difficult to make out any real identifying features.

Third, upon approaching the large broken fountain, a heavy stone lever is visible, attached to a strange, metal mechanism adjacent to the fountain. It would appear to be a rudimentary method of activating the fountain's water flow, although the place is so ancient, it's impossible to know if pulling it would even do anything anymore.

Doors
To make things easier, assume that the door the party just came through is the seventh door, and we'll call number 1 the door directly to its left, and number 2 the door to the left of that, etc.

1. Davek script seems to indicate a mining operation of some sort, and about 20 feet down the hallway there's a small door that opens into what appears to be an office of some sort. Near this door, two beautifully cut emeralds are visible, seemingly dropped by accident.

2. Davek script reads "Armory", and the area within is a another large room that spreads out to several metalworking areas and storage areas. Any mundane weapon or armor can be conceivably taken from this area, along with many other types of things needed for battle, such as ammunition, armor/weapon-care products such as oils and sharpeners, and even what appears to be decrepit siege engines.

3. The script reads: "Temple", but efforts have clearly been made to damage and obscure the mosaic picture that would have accompanied it. The area is sealed with huge, locked doors and the undead seem to be instinctively avoiding the area. The door is unenchanted, but the presence of Divine magic is nearly palpable from something beyond the door itself. (Gerald can actually hear faint music, sounding like an angelic choir)

4. Script reads: "Mausoleum", and the musty, unpleasant scent is strongest near here. Glancing down the long hallway reveals the presence of countless images engraved of what is clearly a strange amalgam of Pelor's and The Raven Queen's forms, often depicting ravens flying from the sun or an old man with huge black wings. The floor here is nearly worn away and further inspection reveals that many of the entrances into true burial chambers are sealed, typically in a way that seems to imply a hastiness in construction.

5. Script denotes this area as "Clan Homes", and this would appear to be the largest hallway, quickly spreading out into a gigantic network of residential structures. The area almost seems intentionally confusing, and real exploration would certainly be difficult, but likely rewarding, given Dwarves' penchant for hoarding wealth.

6. Davek script merely reads "Agriculture", which would seem strange, given the location (deep underground!). Beyond the door, a set of stairs quickly plunge deeper into the earth, and the a strange, sweet aroma is barely detectable.

Religion DC 14
Getting a closer look at the undead Dwarves reveal that their armor all bears an insignia identical to that on the image Lady Pharana presented of the Sunblessed Amulet. It is extremely likely that all of the Dwarves in this room, probably close to 500 individuals, were members of some sort of clergy devoted to Pelor.

[Razorstorm]

Religion roll
[roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald moves towards room 3 slowly. He approaches the doors and touches them gently. He looks to Balaern. "Do you think we can get in?"

[Mrputts]

[roll0]>>>Religion

"These Dwarves look to be followers of Palor, Gerald. Look at the insignias on their armor."

Brandis points to the closest visible dwarf.

[KnightSteve]

"I'm not sure. It seems as though I can get through these doors also, but it may take time. Unless we find the door mechanism to open it."

Balaern takes a moment to look at the door. It doesn't take him long to figure out where the lock pick goes and how to unlock the door. He breathes with relief when he hears the door unlock.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald blinks at Brandis for a moment. "What?" Then he looks back to the dwarves. He suddenly moves towards them to look closer, then catches himself, pulling short by about 5 ft. He leans forward nervously, looking closer. "By the light. You're right! What happened here?"

[Angel Bob]

As Gerald and Brandis investigate the dwarves and Balaern kneels down in front of the door, Adaine hesitantly moves towards the fourth door. He keeps his eyes towards the ground, taking in the designs and symbols encoded in the mosaic. As he draws nearer the door, the tiles take on the shape of dwarven heroes slain in battle, valiant warriors who died with honour. The Davek runes contain words and phrases such as "the hall of heroes" and "safe rest for the valiant". These clues, coupled with the musty scent of death, tell Adaine what he needs to know.

A mausoleum.

OOC: Unless otherwise specified, Adaine keeps his Shadow Walk feature active while exploring a dungeon area.

Cautiously, the young warlock steals through the shadows, moving down the long hallway towards the burial chambers. The mosaic takes on a divinely inspired theme, depicting the Raven Queen and the Lightbringer working together to drive back the plague of undeath. The old man called Pelor stands in the middle of the picture; the paint is faded, but was once as glorious as the sunbeams. Ravens surround him, their black eyes fixated on the undead monsters before them. Adaine recoils when he notices one raven's eyes fixed squarely on his satchel, and hurriedly steps away from the accusing glare.

Inside the darkened crypt, all is silent. Adaine notices several corridors branch off from the entrance hall, but as he explores each one, he finds barriers in his path. The blockades are shoddy by dwarven standards -- evidently built in a hurry -- but enough to keep Adaine out of the tombs beyond. The warlock frowns at the barriers ahead of him, his efforts frustrated.

He half-remembered reading texts about dwarven heroes, buried with their equipment and weapons. And if any of those items were magical, we could make good use of them. Better use than the dead dwarves, at least. That was the plan, but then these frustrating blockades had turned up. How to bypass them?

Against his conscience, Adaine's thoughts turn to the book in his rucksack.

Don't even think about it, boy. Don't even --

Adaine quickly snatches up Libris Mortis, rifling through the pages, and bids the King of Nerath goodbye. I will do what I can to aid my companions, he mutters, whether you approve or not.

"Bo'stharon eis otund..."

Creatures of the night, I bid thee tear down the barricade before me...

"...ythtaron."

...Arise and do my bidding.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Balaern's nimble hands deftly adjust the mechanism within the door's lock, eliciting a soft click] as it unlocks. As the Drow breathes his sigh of relief, he looks down at his lockpick, suddenly realizing that the metal is now twisted and glowing, as though from intense heat. His incredibly sharp reflexes allow him to dive to the floor, pushing Brandis out of the way just as both doors suddenly slam open with a bang. A torrent of bright white light suddenly bursts from the doors frame, nearly blinding everyone nearby as several of the nearby undead suddenly dissolve to ash as the light spreads. Everyone nearby hears a beautiful choir in their head, singing in some ancient tongue. The voices feel powerful, yet their song is discordant, almost diminished.

Seconds pass with the chamber feeling uncomfortably hot and being far too bright to look at, but eventually the choir fades and the light dims, leaving the room in near-darkness again. Looking about, it becomes clear that the undead in this chamber were reduced to ashes, leaving little behind. However, one set of armor appears relatively unharmed., lying next to what appears to be a small silver key. Gerald is standing the closest to it, but all nearby can make out the image of a sun emblazoned upon it, seeming to glow ever so slightly in the shadows. It is warm to the touch, yet also comforting. It reminds any who touch it of a faint feeling, something from a distant dream. A warmth shining down from above, healing, growing.

The doorway to the area marked "Temple" has changed. Whereas before it was dingy and chipped like most of the room, it now appears pristine, the beautiful white marble shining from what little light hits it. Looking within, the party is witness to the grandest temple any have seen in their lives.

The ceiling stretches incredibly high, with the white walls containing gigantic images painstakingly engraved into them. Several rows of stone pews are visible, all empty and clean. A stretch of alternating black and white tiles lead up the center, before disappearing into the darkness. However, a faint light glows from the very back of the room, apparently several feet up.

As the party takes a glimpse of the room, they hear a cry of pain sound from the general area of the Mausoleum, quickly followed by a loud thump and a terrifying, gurgling growl.

Balaern
The tiles continue up to a set of stone stairs which themselves connect to a large stage, of sorts. It is very nearly empty, bare except for a cabinet of some kind braced against a door, as well as a simple, marble altar. The glowing is emanating from something sitting atop this altar. Balaern's eyes can barely make out what appears to be symbols carved into the wood of the cabinet parked in front of the door, but they are far away and not in a script he recognizes. However, he does spot what appears to be some solid gold candlesticks carelessly thrown off to the side of the room in the dark, left completely unguarded...

@Adaine

Again Adaine feels the cold, creeping power course through him, feeling even mightier than before. As the King of Nerath's presence fades from the corners of his mind, Adaine swears he can hear the slightest chuckle...A triumphant chuckle. The dust around him begins to swirl slightly as his voice calls out the ancient, twisted words, yet it is not only his voice he hears calling. He raises his hand toward a barricaded door and suddenly knows that those within are his to command; their will is HIS. As the intoxicating power swirls within him, the old bits of stone and wood begin to crack and crumble, as the creatures beyond thud and scratch at the weak materials separating them from their new master.

Within a minute or two, the barricade is destroyed, and the creatures lumber out from the shadows. Adaine nearly feels his control snap as he realizes what he is looking at. These aren't Dwarves.. At least, not anymore.

Although he has seen undead shamblers all his life above the surface, and perhaps heard tales of stranger beasts arising from the bodies of more powerful individuals, he had not seen proof of it until this day. These creatures are taller than Dwarves, their legs stretched and distended, possessing too many joints and bending almost like a spider's. Their bodies are uncovered, revealing disgusting, half-grown limbs and what appear to be several mouths adorning what may have once been their torsos. As a mouth opens, Adaine spots what appears to be an eyeball staring back at him from within. The arms are much too long, with bones sprouting from what were once elbows, appearing sharp and deadly. The hands end in misshapen claws. As Adaine continues to look, he realizes that there are too many arms..some of them have at least 4 pairs, growing from shoulders, chests, even from their backs. Finally, a creature shifts in such a way that Adaine can make out the creature's head. A gaping maw with long fangs greets him, seeming to ooze with a black sludge. The face is rotted away, revealing stretched and disfigured muscle underneath, as well as what appears to be fused bone forming spines along the sides. The eye sockets are empty and staring, but they are also leaking a foul black sludge that occasionally makes its way down the creature's face and then plops onto the floor.

The abominations make no further movements.

Then, suddenly, Adaine hears the doors in the other chamber burst open, and senses a huge influx of Divine power flow through the entire chamber. The low, throaty chuckle in the back of his mind gives way to a frustrated yell, then suddenly fades altogether, his control along with it. The creatures before him are forced back for a second, and a bright flash of light reveals several beautiful pieces of jewelry within the burial chamber beyond the door, a golden rod standing out the most. Adaine has enough time to realize that the rod is glowing with faint magical energy before a huge, disgusting claw cuffs him and sends him flying down the hallway. The creature gives a loud, gurgling growl, spraying black sludge all over the chamber, before racing toward Adaine's prone form.

Armor: Arcana DC 15
Pelaurum Armor
A beautiful, Dwarven-made set of armor, apparently worn by an ancient priest of Pelor. Depicted on the armor is a large, golden sun that seems to glow. It gives off a comforting warmth.
Armor: Chain
Property:Resist 5 fire and resist 5 radiant.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald stumbles backward, dropping to one knee, shielding his eyes with one arm. He looked up into the revealed temple in awe. Only then did he realize that his hand was resting on something solid, not the floor. He looked down to see his hand resting on the empty breastplate that used to be worn by the undead dwarf. He see the streaks of dust on the floor, blown in tracks away from the door like dust in a windstorm, all that remains of the undead. Only then does he realize what had just happened. "Oh my goodness..." He snatches his hand away from the breastplate, and then suddenly notices the emblem on it. His jaw drops in amazement. He scuttles around to get a better look at the newly shining armor.

Arcana [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald smiles with glee, his hand tracing the lines of the sign of Pelor on the armor. Surely it must be a sign!

"Balaern, Brandis, look what I found here!" He looks up at his companion. Suddenly piecing together what had just happened, "Balaern! Oh my goodness are you all right?" He scrambles forward to check on him.

Then he hears the sound, and a feeling of dread sinks in his stomach. "Where is Adaine?"

[Mrputts]

Brandis tries to stagger to his feet slowly hoping his sight will return. He looks into the newly opened temple. Hearing Gerald he quickly turns.

"What is it?"


Shortly after responding to Gerald, Brandis' attention shifts from the old man to the cry of pain. Looking at the grotesque abomination he stands speechless for a moment. Then quickly paws at his side to unfasten his axe.

"What manner of foul beast is that!?

[KnightSteve]

"I am fine Gerald. What have you found? I notice there are some old candlesticks over there where it gets darker. Maybe lighting them will help us keep these creatures at bay. I was exploring the room with my vision, so I don't know where Adaine or Brandis are. What do you suggest we do next? With the last question, Balaern gets his crossbow out just in case "fight" is the answer to the question. He starts scanning for Adaine and Brandis. His eyes fall on these many armed creatures. They almost remind him of the Drow spider riders, or Driders. He tries to remember if anyone else has been fused with a spider as his people have. Balaern wasn't much of a history buff, and thus doesn't remember anything about other spider rider races.

History Check [roll0]

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

With another sickening, gurgling roar, one of the abominations sprints into the middle room, quickly approaching the fountain before stopping short. Its eyeless, dripping sockets seem to stare at the three men standing before the temple for several seconds, before it tumbles onto its front and begins rapidly crawling away on six limbs, heading towards the are marked "Armory". Drops of disgusting black sludge are left in its wake, as well as the strong scent of rotting flesh.

Suddenly, a quiet, yet resonant, voice sounds from within the temple itself. "Remove me from this pedestal...The light must protect those who face darkness with goodness in their hearts...No matter the cost..." The glow from within the temple suddenly becomes brighter, and a sound of shattering glass is heard from the back of the room. Simultaneously, the sound of wood being smashed can be heard from over nearer the Mausoleum, accompanied by unnatural growls .

Insight DC 17
The way the abomination acted when it scuttled away from the group seemed oddly intelligent, almost like it was intentionally trying to goad someone into chasing it.

@Brandis
Brandis' axe has become icy cold in the last couple of seconds, seemingly in response to the creatures' appearance. With some prodding, Brandis realizes he can actually detect the rough locations of nearby powerful undead through some sort of divine divination. He then realizes that he's picking up on a lot more than the three or four he can hear...

[Razorstorm]

As the abomination rushes closer, Gerald grabs the armor next to him and scrambles over to his companions at the door of the temple. When it turns and runs away towards the Armory, Gerald looks at his companions quizzically, "Did it seem to anyone else that that thing is trying to get us to follow it? Almost trying to provoke us?"

When the voice booms from behind him in the Temple, Gerald spins, holding up the armor like a shield, closing his eyes against the brightness. Then he opens his eyes and tries to pear into the Temple, looking through the light, taking a few steps forward, deeper in.

[Mrputts]

Brandis looks at Gerald.

"Indeed it does seem that way. I also feel that we maybe vastly out numbered."

Brandis then turns to the direction of the voice. Shielding his eyes from the light. Then back to the sound of the breaking wood.

"Into the temple! If anything so we may fight out of the darkness."

Brandis then holds up his Symbol of the Raven Queen.

"Hear me now Queen of the Winter! Shield us with your Wings!

I assume we are all close to each other
Shield of Faith
Daily, Utility Minor Closeburst 5
You and Each Ally in burst get +2 to AC Until end of Encounter.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Several more loud bangs sound from deep within the Mausoleum, followed by heavy, booming footsteps. The abominations that previously assaulted Adaine rush into the room, their fanged mouths dripping with a disgusting, black fluid. One swivels its head, taking in Brandis summoning the power of the Raven Queen, as well as the fountain, now overflowing with a familiar black liquid.

A strange gurgling shriek erupts from the creature's face, as a another abomination lurches into the room from the hallway. The newcomer is covered in black goo, which is perpetually dripping down its lolling mouth, and its arms hang limp and useless from a slightly bloated torso. With a sickening retching sound, the creature vomits a blob of black goo at Brandis, sending it flying through the air.

With a sickening splat, the blob of goo lands directly on Brandis' breastplate, making a terrible sizzling sound as it slowly works its way onto his bare skin, emitting a disgusting smell of rotting flesh and decay.

Brandis
9 necrotic damage and ongoing 2 poison damage (save ends).

Map
http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=40221

Rolls
Attack vs. Brandis Reflex:[roll0]

[Mrputts]

HP 17/28 H.Surge 7/7

Brandis grimaces as black goo burns his skin. Regain his composure he Steps forward. Clutching his holy symbol.
Move from s8 to t8

"May her wings guide you to the other side."

A flash of light shoots out of the medallion, and streaks towards one of the abominations

Attack Name: Lance of Faith
Attack Target:Abomination 2 (y6)
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1] Radiant and one ally I can see (Adaine) gains +2 power bonus to his next attack roll against that target.

Brandis tries to brush off as much of the black goo as he can.
[roll2]

[Razorstorm]

HP: 24 / 24 *AC: 16 *Fort: 14 *Ref: 14 *Will: 16
Surges: 8 *Surge Value: 6

Gerald moves to safety and blasts the abomination with a streak of light from his staff.

Sun Strike
At-Will
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Ranged 10
Target: One creature
Attack: [roll0] vs. Reflex

Hit: [roll1] radiant damage, and you slide the target 1 square, and gains Radiant Vulnerability 3.
Special: You can use this power as a ranged basic attack.


OOC
Sorry guys, I'm still on vacation road-tripping in the UK. *Waves from Pickering* I have a brief chance to check in on my iPad on wifi. I can't actually view the map on here, so please move me intelligently to stay out of trouble.

[Angel Bob]

HP 35/35; Surges 10/10
AC 16; Fortitude 16, Reflex 16, Will 15

Horrified by the abomination before him, Adaine scrambles to his feet and just barely manages to speak the words of power. A bolt of psychic energy flashes from his brow...

Minor Action: Place Warlock's Curse on Abomination 2.

Standard Action: Eyes of the vestige vs. Abomination 2
Attack: [roll0] vs. Will (Plus Brandis's +2, for a total of 13 vs. Will.) [This attack provokes an opportunity attack from Abomination 2, but Adaine's Battle Caster Defence feat gives him a +4 feat bonus to all defenses against such an opportunity attack.]
Damage: [roll1] psychic damage + [roll2] damage, and Adaine places his Warlock's Curse on Abomination 1.

...and streaks over the abomination's mockery of a head, striking the wall beyond and dissipating harmlessly. Adaine's heart sinks, and he freezes for a moment, staring up at the hideous undead dwarf he's called forth.

What are you doing? Get out of here, boy!!

Snapped back into reality by the King's words, Adaine staggers back from the abomination, still staring at its horrific visage.

Move Action: Shift to W7.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Brandis feels the burning goo dissipate as he smites the abomination before him, punching a sizzling hole through the rotten flesh, which soon begins to burn with a silver fire. The temperature of the air around Brandis noticeably drops as he channels the power of the Queen of Winter, his faith guiding his attack to inflict grievous injury. A roar erupts from the creature as he silver flames lick at its desiccated flesh, a mixture of primal rage and terrible pain.

(It's bloodied)

As the voices of his long-dead mentors return in full force, a single drop of black goo drips out of the monstrosity above Adaine from the burning hole created by Brandis, eating through his clothing and stinging slightly. Soon afterwards, Adaine scuttles away from the abomination in its moment of pain, but it still manages to swing its distended, mutated arm at him in an attempt to cut him with the sharp protrusion of bone erupting from its elbow. However, the punishment it had already taken seems to fuel its desire to kill, and it strikes true, slashing up Adaine's thigh in one, clean blow. The blood seems to seep into its bony blade as more black fluid drips from its wounds. It makes a move to follow up on its attack...

Adaine takes 14 damage, the thing rolled a nat 20.

But a sudden burst of radiant energy strikes it, severing its arm just as it readies a blow and sending it sliding backwards along the tiles, hissing in pain once more. Gerald stands strong, feeling the warmth of Pelor shine through his mortal frame. The voice from the Temple calls out once again:"Yes, child! Let the power of the sun be your savior. These abominations are nothing against the bravery of you and your compatriots. However, you mus-" The voice suddenly stops, as if forcibly cut short. The light from the amulet upon the pedestal dims slightly, and the wardrobe covering the door inside the Temple begins to shake as something bangs hard against the door.

Rolls
Attack vs. AC: [roll0]
Damage[roll1]

[LimeSkeleton]

*Posting for Knightsteve*

Spotting that Adaine is in a tight spot, Balaern lifts his crossbow and carefully aims for the abomination's leg, in the hopes of slowing it down so that Adaine can make his escape. The Drow sucks in a deep breath and fires, the bolt whizzing across the darkened room toward his target. The shot flies true, striking the abomination and severing its rotting leg at the knee, forcing it to collapse to the tiled floor. It gives a hissing scream as black fluid leaks from its wound, before beginning to use its many upper-body limbs to scrabble its way forward.

28 damage done to it and it's [color=red]bloodied[/red] now.



Rolls
Unbalancing Shot:[roll0] (On a hit, the target is slowed until the end of Balaern's next turn)
Damage:[roll1]
Edit: Sneak attack damage in OOC due to derpiness

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Suddenly, all three of the nearest abominations spring forward at once, some on two limbs and others dragging themselves across the floor like horribly mutated centipedes. The one that had its leg severed by Balaern's pinpoint crossbow shot barely manages to scrabble its way over to Brandis, slashing its arms in an attempt to gouge him with its bladed elbows. It connects with a small gap in his armor, drawing a surprising amount of blood and hissing in triumph.

11 damage and ongoing 5 (untyped) save ends.

The one that had previously targeted Adaine does so again, leaping over the fountain and charging toward him, the hole in its chest still burning with silver flame. Upon reaching Adaine, who is still flat on his back after sliding quickly over the tiles in an effort to escape, the abomination again lifts its bloody blade and attempts to finish what it started. However, Adaine barely rolls out of the way, dodging the abomination's attempt to disembowel him. The creature's blade becomes stuck in a gap between the tiles, giving Adaine the chance he needs to escape its presence.

Meanwhile, the third of the bladed abominations scurries over to the fountain, now gushing black fluid, and appears to be fiddling around with the mechanism. It's difficult to tell exactly what it's up to, but any all doubts about the beasts' intelligence are gone. Small clanks and scratching sounds are barely audible through the din of hissing and roaring emitted by the creatures.

Finally, the echoing stomping grows louder as a huge creature bursts through from the hallway into the fountain room. Like the others, it would appear to have previously been made from Dwarven corpses. However, unlike the others, this one seems to have somehow fused metallic armor into its flesh. All over its body, pieces of Dwarven-made armor cover its rotting flesh from harm, giving it a bulky, hunched-over appearance. With a roar, it bangs its huge, bony fists on the ground and charges Gerald, ignoring the attacks its reckless charge provokes from the party. The creature lands a glancing blow with its huge, bony fist, buffeting Gerald's shoulder and leaving a terrible bruise. However, the creature imposed its gigantic, rotting form before Gerald, making it clear that not giving it his full attention would be foolish indeed.

9 damage to Gerald and he is marked until the end of the Armored Abomination's next turn.

Map
Moorhelm Ruins Combat Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=41041)
Edit:: Map updated for both Gerald's and Brandis' turns, as two of the creatures died and one changed position by a lot.


Perception DC 18
From what little can be seen of the fountain, it would seem that the abomination is tinkering with it so that the pump will spray much more liquid, meaning that the fountain could quickly overflow with the black goo it's now filled with.

Opportunity Attacks
The Armored Abomination provoked one from everybody but Gerald himself. Go ahead and roll them when you post for your turn or in the OOC thread, if you'd like to make one. Balaern had a crossbow equipped, so I don't believe he can really make one.

Rolls
Attack vs. Brandis AC:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1] If a hit, Brandis takes ongoing 5 damage (untyped) save ends.

Attack vs. Adaine AC: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Attack vs Gerald AC: [roll]1d20+8[/roll}
Edit: Again, in OOC thread. My derpiness is approaching 9,000.
Damage:[roll4] and Gerald is marked until the end of the Armored Abomination's next turn.

[Razorstorm]

HP: 15 / 24 AC: 16 Fort: 14 Ref: 14 Will: 16
Surges: 8 Surge Value: 6


Gerald steps backward carefully from the abomination in his face.
Move action: Shift to P9

"Go back to the whatever hell you came from!" He whirls his staff above his head, and it gathers a cloud of flashing blades of light. He then hurls the cloud to the center of melee. The blades swarm on the combatants, slicing at undead flesh, and shielding his comrades.
Standard Action: Blades of Astral Fire, centered on S9. Attacking 2 abominations (including the one that marked Gerald), and affecting his 3 companions. I'm not clear on whether one of those is the one Gerald inflicted Radiant Vulnerability on last turn. If so, please add 3 damage.

Encounter
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Area burst 1 within 10
Target: Each enemy in the burst

Attack:
Abomination 1 [roll0] vs. Reflex
Armored Abomination [roll1] vs. Reflex

Hit: [roll2] radiant damage.
Effect: Each ally in the burst gains a +3 power bonus to AC until the end of your next turn. (Covenant of Preservation: The bonus to AC equals 1 + your Intelligence modifier.)

Perception
[roll3]

Gerald risks a look behind him at the pedestal where moments before he had heard a voice. What could be going on? Why did it stop speaking?
Rolling to see if I can understand what might have happened.
[roll4]
depending on what skill would be appropriate (if either) Arcana and Religion are both +7

[Mrputts]

HP 6/28; Surges 7/7
AC 21; Fortitude 16, Reflex 12, Will 16

Brandis reels with pain as the abomination attacks him. Almost tumbling of Brandis braces himself with his axe. Under his breath he says a quiet prayer.

The symbol around his neck begins to glow.

Healing Word
Minor
Healing
Effect: The target (Me) can spend a healing surge and regain 1D6 additional hit points

Roll: [roll0]+7

[Mrputts]

HP 16/28; Surges 6/7
AC 21; Fortitude 16, Reflex 12, Will 16


The pain in Brandis' wounds begins to subside. The wounds stop bleeding as they begin to heal.

No longer bloodied

Regaining his composure Brandis grips his holy symbol, and sidesteps into a better position.

Move: Shift from s8, to t9
OOC: I got a computer again!!!

"Raven Queen disperse these insults to your greatness!"

Turn Undead
Encounter Close burst 2
Channel Divinity, Divine, Implement, Radiant

Attack:[roll0] vs Will (Abomination 2) [roll1] vs Will (Abomination 3) [roll2] vs Will (armored abomination)
Hit:[roll3] radiant damage, and you push the target a number of squares up to 3+ Cha Mod (5 total).

The target is immobilized until the end of your next turn.

Push (Abomination 2) From u 10 - z 13, (Abomination 3) From t8 - y5 (Armored Abomination) From r9-r4

Miss: Half damage

[Mrputts]

Saving my ongoing [roll0]

Brandis watches as his wounds begin to reopen.

[Angel Bob]

HP 21/35; Surges 10/10
AC 16; Fortitude 16, Reflex 16, Will 15

Adaine cries out as the creature lurches towards him, and just barely rolls beyond its strike. "Yikes!" he cries as he scrambles across the floor.

Then a devastating eruption of radiance blasts through the room, searing and striking the abominations. Some are blasted back, some destroyed entirely, but all cleared out of the way for now. Breathing a sigh of relief, Adaine stands up, beginning to smile as his resolve returns.

Move Action: Stand up.

Standard Action: Second Wind. (Adaine regains 8 hit points.)

"My thanks, Gerald. And Brandis, of course," the young warlock nods. Then he prepares for the abominations' inevitable retort.

[LimeSkeleton]

*Posting for Knightsteve*

Balaern takes a calculated look about the room, his white-eyed gaze settling upon the abomination that had previously sprayed Brandis with necrotic sludge. Again, he raises his crossbow and takes aim, attempting to unbalance the creature in order to take a killing shot.

The shot is placed excellently, lodging itself directly in the creature's misshapen foot, momentarily pinning it to the ground and unbalancing it completely, leaving it open for a follow-up attack from Balaern's deadly aim.

Rolls
Preparatory Shot vs. AC on Spitter: [roll0]
Hit: 4 damage and the target grants combat advantage to Balaern until the end of his next turn.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

With an angry hiss, the spindly abomination standing near the hallway into the Mausoleum wrenches its foot from the crossbow bolt, ripping its rotten flesh in the process. The spindly abomination then sprints toward the party, seemingly completely out of balance the whole way, its arms flailing wildly and its head bobbing slightly. A trail of black goo is left in its wake. Upon reaching the group, a loud gurgling emanates from its midsection, accompanied by the beginnings of a terrible roar from its fanged mouth. Suddenly, the creature opens its foul maw wider than would seem possible, which then shoots forth a burst of disgusting black sludge like a geyser. The goo quickly covers both Balaern and Brandis, who suddenly find that their legs are temporarily stuck in place, stuck to the ground by the quickly-solidifying goo. Adaine barely manages to avoid the brunt of it and is able to avoid becoming stuck and being burned by the necrotic essence of the liquid, but leaves himself temporarily open.

Simultaneously, a loud clanking is heard as the abomination near the fountain wrenches something from the side of the overflowing basin before tossing it across the room. A seemingly-triumphant roar is emitted by the creature, which bounds forward across the floor even as the sludge begins to spill out of the fountain and pool around the fountain. With a unsettling spider-like leap, the abomination lands next to Adaine, using its momentum to strike at his throat with a bone-like protrusion on its elbow. Capitalizing on Adaine's evasion of the other creature's attack, the blade connects solidly with Adaine's neck and shoulder, drawing blood and leaving a nasty wound that seems to be actively holding itself open to force more blood from his veins.

The huge monstrosity that had previously charged at Gerald roars in frustration, the holy power of The Raven Queen pinning it in place in the corner, rendering it completely incapable of harming anything.

Map
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Rolls

Spitter
Attack vs Brandis Fort:[roll0]
Attack vs Balaern Fort:[roll1]
Attack vs. Adaine Fort:[roll2]
Hit:[roll3] necrotic damage and the targets are immobilized (save ends).

Abomination1
Attack vs. Adaine AC:[roll4]
Hit:[roll]2d10+6 damage and ongoing 5 damage (save ends).
Edit: Damage roll in OOc thread. Derp.


Fountain
All affected tiles are difficult terrain and will deal 2 necrotic damage to any non-undead that ends its turn there. In addition, the splashing from the fountain makes it abundantly clear that there's quite a bit of the stuff flowing through, making it likely that the pool around the basin will continue to grow..

[Razorstorm]

HP: 15 / 24 AC: 16 Fort: 14 Ref: 14 Will: 16
Surges: 8 Surge Value: 6

Gerald solemnly holds his staff vertically in front of him, and intones in a raw and powerful voice. "Pelor denies you! Be gone!" On the final syllable, a pulse of holy energy radiates from his staff head.

Rebuke Undead - Targeted on all but the Armored Abomination
Channel Divinity
Divine, Implement, Radiant
Standard Action Area close blast 5
Target: Each enemy in the burst
Attack1: [roll0] vs. Will
Attack2: [roll1] vs. Will

Hit: [roll2] radiant damage and you push the target two squares and it is dazed until EONT.

Spitter - Push to V7
Abom 1 - Push to W9
Miss: Half damage

He then runs around the side of the room, preparing to run to the fountain at his next opportunity.
Move to T12

[Angel Bob]

HP 15/35; Surges 10/10
AC 16; Fortitude 16, Reflex 16, Will 15

Adaine staggers back, heavily wounded. "Brandis! I'm in a spot of bother right now!" he coughs out.

Move Action: Shift to T10.

His request pending, he turns to face the abominations, sifting through his mind to call upon the ancient power of Nerath. With a gesture, he conjures a silvery horn in his right hand and brings it to his lips, taking a deep breath to unleash the call of Clarion, horn of King Elidyr. Hope this works...

Minor Action: Place Warlock's Curse on Abomination 1.

Standard Action: Clarion call vs. Abomination 1 and Abomination Spitter.
Attack: (vs. Abomination 1) [roll0] vs. Fortitude
(vs. Abomination Spitter) [roll1] vs. Fortitude
Hit: [roll2] thunder damage (+ [roll3] damage to Abomination 1), and the target is deafened until the end of Adaine's next turn. For each target hit by this attack, Adaine gains 3 cumulative temporary hit points.

Though little more than an echo, the call of the horn still bears magic enough to rejuvenate Adaine. Shimmering light briefly glimmers as he feels a measure of strength returning to him, though Brandis's clerical aid is still a necessity.

[Mrputts]

Gripping his holy symbol Brandis says a silent word to The Raven Queen. A bright flash of light envelops Gerald.

Healing Word
The target can spend a healing surge and regain [roll0] additional hit points


Then as he lets go of the medallion a bright flash of light races towards an abomination.

Lance of Faith
Abomination1; (u-10)
Attack; [roll1]
Damage;[roll2]

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Gerald and Brandis work together to smite the abominations they see before them, a sudden gust of cold wind blows through the room, despite the fact that it is underground. A faint, flowery scent accompanies it, inexplicably reminding everyone of gardens growing, clouds lazily drifting by and the feeling of drifting off to sleep. For several long moments, it appears that nothing else is going to happen, the abominations advancing hungrily. A moment later, the caw of a raven calls out, suddenly fading out as the light bursting from Gerald and Brandis comes together to create a searing wave of energy. Suddenly, a great Raven, its feathers gold and glowing with a bright light, erupts from the swirling maelstrom created by the two holy men. Its beak emitting shrieks of unimaginable beauty and terror, it flies forth, setting out to destroy what dares to defile the world of its masters.

As the Divine wrath of the Raven Queen and Pelor surges through, the Abominations hiss and scream with pain, their deformities being burned away and returned to death. The creatures totter, their bodies weak and barely holding them together. As Adaine steps forward to blow upon his horn, he drives the monsters before him, reducing their bodies to ash and producing a single, clear note which echoes off the walls of the chamber.

As the dust settles and the ruins return to their previous, silent state, it becomes clear that the spreading black liquid from the well has been purified. The crystal-clear water that now fills it appears entirely drinkable, while the puddles on the floor seem to be erasing centuries of grime from the tiles beneath them.

Balaern looks from Gerald to Adaine to Brandis, then back again.

"What, in the name of Lolth, was THAT?"

[Razorstorm]

Gerald looks at Balearn and Brandis dumbfounded, "I... I don't know. That was... magnificent. But I have no idea what just happened." Then hurries his way into the altar room where he had heard voices before.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine glances worriedly around the scene. The abominations lie in piles of black goo and grey flesh, his comrades are gashed and wounded, and his hand is still clutching Libris Mortis. The fountain trickles silently as Adaine glares down at the book.

It's time to come clean, Adaine realizes. He opens his mouth to speak, to confess what he's done --

At that moment, Gerald turns and walks towards the sanctuary, drawn by his eager curiosity. Adaine's confession dies on his lips, and he feels Brandis and Balaern staring.

After a moment of quivering paralysis, Adaine tucks the book back into his satchel. Unable to say anything to the drow or the cleric, he turns and rushes back into the mausoleum to rest.

Short Rest: Adaine spends two healing surges, bringing him up to 31 hit points.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Gerald
Gerald enters the magnificent temple room, his steps echoing across the tiled floor. As he crosses the threshold, the runes on his armor glow slightly, illuminating the area directly before him. Peering through the darkness, he can just make out the marble pedestal that sits atop the raised portion of the temple. A dim light glows softly from the center of it, pulsing every so often, almost like a heartbeat.

As Gerald continues to make his way into the temple, candles suddenly flare with white halos of flame, slowly lighting the way up the center, past the pews. At last, when Gerald reaches the steps at the end, a dim voice calls out from the pedestal.

"Wonderful child, born of light and baptized in flame. You and your comrades have stood steadfast against the forces of evil native to this dark, cursed place. I would grant you the honor of possessing me for a time, thou who art touched by the spark of Pelor himself."

With a light whoosh all of the candles in the room flare brightly, revealing the splendor and beauty of the temple in its entirety. On the pedestal sits an amulet, decorated with the same pattern predicted by Lady Pharana. It lies on a silver chain, just long enough to comfortably slip over one's neck. The amulet itself appears to be gold, embossed with a strange, wavy pattern, rather like paintings Gerald had seen in the ruins before, which depicted a great light shining from the sky.

@Adaine

As Adaine rushes back into the Mausoleum, he realizes that he never was able to get a clear look into the room from which the monstrosities merged. Among the coffins and bones strewn about the floor, a number of valuables lie, now unguarded. In particular, grasped in the bony hand of a long-dead Dwarf, is a long, slender piece of what would appear to be wood. Such a find would be valuable in of itself, due to the rarity of actual wood in Moorhollow, yet what clearly sets it apart is its obvious magical nature. Decorated with intricate and complicated runes, the rod seems pregnant with Arcane power, almost begging for a new, more worthy, master to take hold.

Treasure
Around 100 gold pieces in coins, trinkets and other materials lie on the floor here. In addition, strangely, there is a bottle full of a foul-smelling liquid that is difficult to identify. It is dark green, with floating black specks.

Rod
Rod of Dark Reward
"Made from a dark mahogany and decorated with intricate runes, this implement defends those who promise the souls of thier enemies to another."
ImplementRod
Critical: +1d6 damage per plus
Property
Whenever you place a Warlock’s Curse on an enemy, you gain a +1 power bonus to AC until the start of your next turn.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine takes up the mahogany rod, and a dark haze briefly swirls around his form, feeling as if his skin had turned to steel. After a moment, it is gone, but Adaine knows this rod to be potent indeed.

Ignoring the coins, Adaine's eyes fixate on the peculiar bottle of dark green, fleck-filled liquid. The smell is abominable. Adaine examines the concoction, murmuring to himself. "Whatever this is, it must be of some importance to be interred with the dead." He pauses for a moment, considering possible candidates. "...Perhaps it's some of that strong dwarven drink I'm always hearing about?"

History: [roll0]

Arcana, for good measure: [roll1]

[Razorstorm]

At the foot of the steps leading up to the pedestal, Gerald falls to his knees as the candles flare. He looks around the room in awe. He bows his head humbly, and tears of gratitude gently roll down his cheeks. Feeling more at peace than he has in years, Gerald quietly whispered a prayer of thanks and hope. Finally, Gerald rises to his feet, using his staff to assist his damaged leg, and made his way up the steps to the pedestal. He lovingly lifted the amulet, taking in the details solemnly. He then reverently lowers the chain around his neck.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine looks over the vial, his eyes flashing with a glint of arcane power as he scans it for any enchantments. Aha, here's something -- a minor Preservation spell, cast to prevent the vial from shattering or its contents from spoiling, he diagnoses. The liquid itself also seems to emanate arcane power.

Sudden realization dawns on Adaine as he pieces together fragments of information from ancient scrolls and texts. Of course... the fabled "Water of the Styx!"

Howzat, boy?

Ancient legends tell of a potion that could render the recipient immune to the curse of undeath, Adaine explains excitedly. No legends tell of how to make it. But the waters are described just like this liquid!

It's all too good to be true, Adaine muses, but then it gets better. Glancing about the room, he notices a few other, similar vials strewn about, all empty. Most of them lie close to the yet undisturbed tombs.

As Adaine scrambles to retrieve the vials, his mind races as he continues to put the pieces together. His thoughts flash back to the hideous black sludge put forth by the fountain and the abominations. Perhaps these vials are related? he wonders. Could one be the antithesis of the other?

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Gerald
As Gerald places the Sunblessed Amulet around his neck, he feels a serene glow within his body, warming him with a comforting feeling of calm and peace. Even the slightest desire to return to the depths of the cup drains from the darkest corners of his mind, the impurities of his lost years purged with the sun's fires. Finally, as Gerald looks down upon his hands, gnarled and rough from years of hardship, he sees the hints of wrinkles begin to fade. His skin slowly returns to the pinkish glow of his youth, his body feels strong once more. Spying his visage in the reflection of the polished marble, Gerald sees the image of a man ten years younger than before, with all traces of the weariness of age banished from his face. Although he is yet grey of hair and mature in looks, the ravages of time have been washed away.

Brandis slowly approaches, holding his holy symbol tight in one hand and gaping at Gerald's altered appearance. "By milady's wings, my friend. You look as young as I! Did this artifact change you so?" The cleric shakes his head in amazement, but winces at a nasty gash on his leg. "Since we have achieved our goal, I believe it is time we depart this place. As a servitor of The Raven Queen, I find these burial grounds fascinating, and the images of my god more so, but we cannot afford to linger. There may be more creatures about. We have sufficient supplies to complete the journey, so let me know when you'd like to begin the trek to the surface."

Adaine
As Adaine studies the Water of the Styx in the vial, he hears light footsteps pass over the threshold. Looking up momentarily, he spots the pale eyes of Balaern staring at him inquisitively, holding a sludge-covered book in his hand. "You threw this aside earlier, I was wonde-" Balaern stops short as he finally takes notice of the gold and treasure piled within the burial chamber. A small grin slowly appears upon his face. Tossing the book aside, forgotten, the Drow removes a small bag from within his pack. His nimble fingers then begin snatching up the assorted treasures with gusto, his lips whistling a foreign (but jovial) tune as he does so.

"Finally, something of worth! I was beginning to think these Dwarves only had musty scrolls and chipped tiles to offer." He picks up an empty vial, examining it closely. "What's with these bottles? Embalming fluid? Never understand why you surface dwellers try to preserve your dead. Best to feed them to the spiders before they can come back, in my opinion." Balaern scoops up a couple more empty vials, adding them to his bag of lucre with a shrug.

"Anyways, I meant to tell you. Brandis says he doesn't want to be down here too much longer, and I agree completely. I used to live underground and I find this place creepy. I'll lead the way back, when you're ready."

[Razorstorm]

Gerald hadn't taken his eyes from his face (it was his face, wasn't it?) in the reflection. He slowly smiled, and his hand closed around the amulet, giving it a grateful squeeze. Without looking at Brandis, "Indeed, I believe it has. I feel invigorated, like the weight of my very many mistakes has been lifted from my soul. I feel... hope, and all the freedom that it gives." He tears his eyes away from his reflection. "Yes, you're right, gentlemen. We have been lucky today. We should go. Take what we can easily manage, but don't overburden yourselves. Me... I have all I came for."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Balaern scoops the last of the treasure into his bag, he fails to notice Adaine surreptitiously retrieving Libris Mortis from the floor of the mausoleum. When his fingers fall upon the grimy covers of the text once more, a familiar feeling of frigid cold sweeps through his core.

"None can resist the siren song of power. This, I know. You can try to refuse it, but it will seize you, as it once did to those who sleep within this chamber."

The group converges near the sludge-flooded fountain in the center of the central chamber, each covered in wounds and dirt. Stroking his chin, Brandis plucks one of the bottles from Balaern, filling it with the disgusting black sludge. "I think it best that we come to understand this substance. I will bring it to Sindrei, a fellow cleric of The raven Queen I met in Moorhollow. Now, I think it best we depart. Come, fellows. Let us return to the light of the surface." As the group moves to depart, the amulet around Gerald's neck gives a small flash of light, illuminating the path before them.

With confidence in his stride, Balaern leads the group back through the immense door and into the labyrinth of the Moorhelm Ruins.

Days pass. The party continues to make their way countless stairways, through ancient, eroded structures filled with strange carvings and intricate runes. However, Balaern's sense of direction seems impeccable here under the earth, and he easily leads the group to more familiar portions of the ruins. With the help of Adaine and Gerald, the party finally emerges into the area just below the surface, the bright light of the surface shining down through the exit. A small glimpse of grey sky is visible from the group's perspective, and the sounds of civilization begin to fill their ears once more.

"Nothing like the smell of ashes to start off the day. Ready to find our employer?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Outside of Glimmerdin estate, the home of Lady Pharana, the colorful petals of the flowers dance gently in the breeze, despite the scent of ash and decay such winds carry. However, from the perfumed sitting room that Kora now sits in, such ugly aromas are masked entirely, leaving only the calming view of blossoming flora combined with an intoxicating smell of cinnamon and roses. A fire crackles softly in a nearby hearth, casting flickering shadows upon the comfortable antique furnishings adorning the room. Despite their apparent comfort, only two figures currently occupy the chairs and sofa tastefully scattered in the room.

The first is a male elf named Aramil, who sits ramrod straight in a beautiful armchair. His long brown hair is pulled back into an elegant ponytail, every strand meticulously groomed. Although his clothes seem like those of a humble servant, his imperious gaze and turned-up nose seem to imply a history of authority. However, the bite marks that are not quite covered by his collar reveal what is likely his true purpose here, in the manor of the most beautiful vampiress in Moorhollow. He drums his fingers on his lap impatiently a few times, letting his mouth sink into a frown.

"My apologies, Kora. I'd like to say it is not like my Mistress to show up late, but I fear that would not be entirely truthful. However, she trusts Ms. Vanara immensely, so I feel as though you will make a fine addition."

Aramil raises one eyebrow, finally allowing his icy blue eyes to meet Kora's. "I admit I'm not entirely sure what milady has planned for you. She mentioned something about the Spirits, and then something about that bastard Malec Dustwalker. You are an interesting unknown to me, Kora. much better than the riffraff milady sent to explore the ruins..."

[Jarl11]

Kora

Sitting in a sofa near the fire, across from the rigid elf, is a young lady giving off a very different impression. Though her features are somewhat plain, there is an air of passion and vitality to her that is difficult for an observer to put their thumb on. Yet it is the first thing that you would notice.

She is tall, for a woman, but not immensely so. Her build is solid, stocky even, especially in the grey-brown hide armor and soft, wide black boots. The functional, drab gear is sharply contrasted with a light purple tunic and bright blonde hair that seems to be somehow both wind-blown and clean. Her hands are large, calloused and strong, seeming to be constantly twiddling, reaching out to brush the nearby plants or keeping busy in one way or another. Her yellow framed face is round and plain with a small smudge across her left cheek that looks to be dust or ash. Her jaw is relaxed and a playful smile seems to be transfixed on her lips below virbrant, deep blue eyes that are soaking in the majesty of the room around her.

This young lady that had stood so formally for introductions and been so polite had suddenly relaxed into the sofa at Aramil's gesture, casually laying her rich black cloak across the back and leaning a thick, plain shield and a large warhammer against the side, meeting his cold stare with a friendly smile. Making herself at home, she lounges back and smiles at her new surroundings, from the exquisite furniture to the flowers next to her and the fire just a short distance farther. The smile is such that you might expect the plants or fire to be smiling back at her...

I suppose living in a small town like this you must pretty well know everyone, is that right? She laughs lightly and continues on in a casual manner without waiting for an answer. I arrived from Senitha just yesterday. It's a lot longer of a walk than I thought it would be! Dusty too! Ms Vanara said that Lady Pharana could likely supply me with a job. Seems like they may have communicated a bit more than that but all I know is that there may be some trouble nearby that I can assist with. Tell me, who is this Malec Dustwalker? And what is this about riffraff?

[Razorstorm]

Gerald clears his throat, standing in the doorway. "Ahem. Good evening. I do believe we're the riffraff." He moves in at his usual slow pace. "Aramil, good to see you again. And what's this about Dustwalker?"

[Angel Bob]

Adaine frowns as he follows behind Gerald. Dustwalker... Didn't Pharana say he had minions combing the Moorhelm ruins? I wonder what the old farmer could want with dwarven relics.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Aramil jumps slightly, his pale eyes widening. "Oh! What a surprise! You've all returned, and in such good health too. Kora, these are the gentlemen I was speaking of earlier. They ventured into the ruins beneath the town to locate an object of interest for Lady Pharana." The elf stands up, gesturing for the group to take a seat in the room. His eyes widen further at Gerald's appearance and the amulet around his neck, but he says no more. With a stiff bow to Kora and the returning men, he bustles out of the room. "I'll be right back. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

His footsteps retreat down a hallway, echoing softly off the stone walls. Aramil's voice is heard, barely within earshot. "How did they manage to sneak up on me like that? I must be losing my touch..."

[Jarl11]

Kora

Looking up sharply at the arrival of the newcomers, Kora stands upon being introduced. As Aramil departs, Kora steps forward with fluid, balanced posture and extends her hand in a warm greeting first to the older gentleman that spoke and then to the younger man standing beside him.

As he said, you may call me Kora. And don't let it bother you - I've been called riffraff before too! She smiles pleasantly, taking in the appearance of the two humans with wide eyes.

What may I call you? And welcome back from your exploration! I'd be interested to hear about it if you would care to sit with me.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald accepts the offered hand graciously. "A pleasure. I'm Gerald Moorheime, and these are my companions, Adaine, Brandis, and Balearn. We were hired by the Lady to explore deeply to into some nearby ruins, and uncover a relic. The long version is, I'm afraid, rather long. But sufficeth to say that it a treacherous journey, and we encountered more danger in the recent days than I've been exposed to my entire life. It was..." he pauses, searching for the right word, "harrowing, I think describes it properly."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The fire pops and crackles some more, despite the absence of actual wood in the hearth. As the flames continue to lick at the soot-stained mortar, a soft whoosh is heard from a metal grille attached to the ceiling. Soon, a billowing cloud of mist begins to stream forth from the grille, gently coalescing on the carpeted floor and taking on the form of a tall, beautiful woman. Her most striking feature is her shining red hair, elegantly pulled back and groomed, with a single white flower adorning it. Lady Pharana glances about the room, her crimson eyes sparkling as she wears a fanged smile.

"My, my! What a pleasant surprise! You've all returned from the ruins; and in such good health as well. I was beginning to consider sending another group to search for you all." Her eyes linger on the amulet around Gerald's neck, but she quickly turns to the blonde woman standing near him.

"My apologies, Ms. Debarriere. I am Lady Pharana; pleased to formally make your acquaintance. I didn't think your arrival would coincide so neatly with the return of my search party; but I suppose it's just as well. Adaine, Gerald, Brandis, Balaern:" She gestures at each of them as she speaks their name. "Meet Kora Debarriere, a new member of an organization I have been involved with for many a year now. My friend in Senitha tells me she is both strong and wise beyond her years. I do hope you'll all get along well." She smiles again, her gaze seeming to linger slightly longer on Balaern, who shrugs noncommittally.

"Now then. I'll have Aramil bring some refreshments in and we can hear the tale of how you came to locate the Sunblessed Amulet, Gerald. I do hope it wasn't too dull. From what I understand, the crypts of the Moorhelm Ruins are thought to be silent. No dead walk where the Dwarves once lived; they had innumerable protections against such things. However, I would still very much like to hear a little of your adventure."

As if on cue, Aramil re-enters the room, now carrying a silver tray laden with tea and small confectionery items. Lady Pharana takes a seat by the fire, looking at the group expectantly.

[Jarl11]

Kora

The blonde woman turns at the air movement to watch the beautiful woman materialize with a small smile on her face. She breathes a little faster, her eyes widen and the air seems to crisp around her in pleasant anticipation, like a child holding their breath for a surprise that they know is going to happen. Kora studies the striking new arrival while she speaks and breaks into a big grin once addressed, tension seeming to puff out of her.

Pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Pharana! I wish I knew more about you before arriving but I trust my Mistress in her recommendations. However, she was right about one thing - your fangs look as sharp as you are beautiful! She sincerely compliments her host with a girlish, fun laugh, giving away her comfort in the vacinity of a vampire without a second thought. She steps forward to firmly shake Lady Pharana's hand in an awkward manner, like she wanted to hug her but just realized she was in public.

Kora then blushes a bit and rushes to sit by her gear that she left laying at one end of a sofa in order to listen to the others. She openly looks at Adaine, Brandis and Balearn with an air of contained excitement, smiling at each if they catch her looking.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine averts his eyes when he notices Kora's smiling gaze. Surely it is only a courtesy, but all the same, he dislikes attention. And especially so after Pharana's comments have reminded him of the shambling monstrosities. He rests his hand gingerly on his wide scar and shudders.

"No dead walk where the Dwarves once lived..." If only! I nearly got myself killed by those... things.

Elidyr's voice is surprisingly soft. Pick yourself up, boy. No sense letting one nasty surprise get the better of you... even if it did come of your own mistakes. But that's a lecture for another day. Right now, just remind yourself you're alive.

As surprised as Adaine is by Elidyr's words, Zutwa's are even more astonishing, merely for being said. ...The woman... the primeval spirit rumbles. The vibrant energy of the world's past echoes within...

What's that? Adaine gasps. Something to do with the forests of old?

A grunt of affirmation. Keep her close, sapling. She holds... promise.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald bows respectfully to Pharana. "Indeed, Lady, it was quite an adventure." He saunters over to the tray of tea and treats and helps himself to a few, and sits down at the other end of the sofa from Kora, giving her a pleasant smile.

"The travel itself would have been an adventure all its own. The ruins are spectacular. However as we got deeper in, we found that the dead do NOT, in fact, as silent as we hoped. We were mobbed by undead dwarven soldiers, and more frightening still, large misshapen monstrosities. The attack happened beyond a magnificent set of sealed doors that reveal an intriguing connection between the Raven Queen and my own long-lost deity, the Lightbringer. We found a magnificent set of shrines in rooms surrounding a central fountain that started spewing foul black goo, which is where the abominations attacked us. I found the amulet in a shrine dedicated to the Lightbringer."

He is careful to not mention his own personal experience with the shrine.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Lady Pharana flashes Kora a radiant smile upon hearing her compliment. "Vanara certainly spoke true of your honeyed tongue, Ms. Debarriere." She then turns and fixes her attention on Gerald as he recounts his tale, her eyes widening and her smile fading upon hearing the nastier details of what occurred.

Brandis nods his head in accordance with Gerald's points about the abominations in the ruins, as well as the mention of The Raven Queen's connection with the Lightbringer. His face impassive and his dark eyes severe, he refuses the food offered and addresses the vampiress directly. "The monstrosities we witnessed below were a direct affront to The Lady of Death. In every way a corruption and a mockery of the tranquil sleep of the dead... Such things must be taken seriously, milady." The barest trace of derision accompanies his comment, seeming to imply that the undead below the ground are not the only unnatural monsters in the town, in his opinion. However, his expression does not change, and his tone quickly returns to a more formal inflection.

Lady Pharana appears to take no notice of his tone, stroking her chin thoughtfully. After a few moments, she replies to both Brandis' comment and Gerald's story, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. "The dead walking so close to the temple? That's...inconceivable. The Moorhelm Dwarves observed countless rites to prevent such a thing from coming to pass. Inumerable enchantments, potions, Divine wards were channeled into protecting their honored dead. I fear there may be details about their history that have not yet come to light.. However, I will spend time researching this later. Let us speak of happier news. You have succeeded!"

The vampiress stands suddenly, her dress fluttering as she does so. She nods to Aramil, who removes a small bag from the inside of his tunic. The severe-looking Elf then removes coins from the purse, and proceeds to hand each of the men their payment for the job. Surprisingly, each receives 175 gold pieces worth of coin, despite the original payment having been set at 150.

"There is a little bit of extra money there for you all; you deserve it, each of you. I insist that you take it. In the very least, you could donate the excess to the Militia or one of the local temples." She approaches the enchanted fire, passing her hand in front of it and causing it to grow brighter and warmer, its flames now roaring instead of flickering and crackling.

"Now then, I believe I owe you all an explanation as to why exactly I wanted you to find this particular amulet in the first place. She turns, shadows dancing across her pallid skin, her fangs barely visible.

Lady Pharana points a single finger at the Sunblessed Amulet upon Gerald's chest, her expression stoic.

"I believe that the amulet upon Gerald's chest, The Sunblessed Amulet of the lost god Pelor, may be the key to restoring me to human form once more."

[Angel Bob]

Adaine's eyes widen as Pharana reveals her scheme, though he tries to attract little attention. What? A vampire turning... back into a human? It's never been done.

I don't like the sound of this. She must have some ulterior motive.

Hmmm... Suspicious indeed. But... restoring life... is a noble goal, be she sincere...

[Razorstorm]

Gerald's eyes open wide, making no attempt to hide his surprise. "That... would certainly be a marvel. What have you found that points leads you to believe that?"

Trying to get a read on her sincerity
Insight [roll0]

[Jarl11]

Kora

The large blonde woman listens attentively and suddenly breaks into a surprised, and somewhat proud, smile at the intentions from the nearby vampire. Her hands clap in excitement as she beams over at the other woman.

That would be... fantastic! Do you really think it's possible?! How would it work?

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Brandis' eyes narrow, his mouth thinning into a hard line. His armor clanks slightly as he reaches up and strokes his chin, scratching at the thin beard he had begun to grow whilst beneath the surface of Moorhollow. "That is indeed surprising, milady. Although I know The Raven Queen would wish for the curse of undeath to be removed from any creature under her wings, I also know that I've never heard of it being done." He falls silent again, nodding at Gerald's question and then staring into the hearth.

Balaern, who was in the middle of taking a sip of tea, sprays some out of his mouth in disbelief, showering Aramil with hot liquid. Having just walked past the Drow, the Elf scowls, his previously smiling face becoming tinged red with anger. However, he quickly regains control, mopping his face with his hand and striding from the room with some used dishes. Balaern looks around sheepishly, an embarrassed grin on his face. "I'm sorry, mistress. I was just taken aback by what you said. Didn't mean any disrespect by spilling your tea everywhere like that. What you seek is something the surface-dwellers have sought for generations, but never found. Before my exile, the Matriarchs would often speak of the strange way you viewed the Gift of Blood; I can’t say I understand why you would reject it. I'm in no position to tell you what to believe though, mistress." Balaern's hands nervously start sifting through the coins in his purse, his gaze shifted to the floor.

Lady Pharana smiles at the varied responses she received from her guests, nodding her head slightly in response to the questions directed at her. "Although such a transformation has not achieved success in recent times, it is my hope that we may learn from the cultures of the past to cure the affliction. This artifact of the god of light and healing may provide the needed catalyst for me to return to the living once more.” She pauses and nods toward’s Gerald, her eyes fixed on the amulet around his neck. ”It is certainly not the only component, but it should make all the difference. Although it will surely shorten my lifespan, I have already lived long. My hope is that I will be able to provide a cure for those who wish for one: those who were turned against their will, or who have become devoted to the ideals of The Raven Queen." "

The vampiress plucks a book off one of the shelves against the wall, glancing at its cover before rapidly flipping through it. Her crimson eyes scan a page quickly before stopping short, her face hopeful once more.

"Here is a transcription I made of some runes I located in a crypt far from here, in the Valley of Skulls. I managed to translate the majority into Common, but I do not know how much is true and how much is legend." She clears her throat softly and begins reading from the book. ”Those cursed with the thirst for blood must be cured or eliminated, by command of the High Scepter. If cure is selected, the blood of the afflicted must be taken for the creation of Tears, which will be given before the ritual is attempted. Each limb must be held by silver chains, to prevent all movement. Then, after drinking the Tears, three cuts will be made in the afflicted one’s skin, in which water from the River of the Dead will be injected. Finally, the Sun’s Rays must touch upon the afflicted one’s chest, after which a golden stake will be driven through the heart. The stake must remain in place until one cycle of light has passed, or the ritual will fail. The afflicted may then be brought to High Scepter for final judgment. Those deemed clean will be allowed to spend their lives in service to the High Scepter.” She stops reciting, looking up the group once more.

”The Noriande were a strange people, but their magic was beyond that of any civilization since. The procedure seems rather archaic, I know, but even if it fails, it should not destroy me." She looks about the room, seeming slightly on-edge. A small bit of hair had fallen across her cheek as she spoke, which she brushes behind her ear with a shaking hand.

"I’m sorry to suddenly reveal all of this to you; it must be rather uncomfortable to learn the gruesome details. However, I believe you deserve to know the truth about what I’m planning to do with the amulet.”

History DC 14
The Noriande were an ancient people that reached the peak of their civilization a few hundred years after the Dwarves of Moorhollow went into decline. The population was entirely human, and viciously xenophobic, refusing to allow any but humans of their culture inside its walls. Their magic was so powerful, it is often said that the whole civilization retreated into a different plane centuries ago, leaving only ruins behind. However, the wards and traps set to deflect outsiders remained potent, claiming so many lives that the surrounding area soon became known as The Valley of Skulls.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine watches with shifting eyes as the vampire reads. I can't say I trust her, he murmurs, but I don't see what she stands to gain from this procedure besides a mortal life.

She's batty, Elidyr concludes. But that ritual sounds legitimate. Boy, you've read a book or two -- have you read anything worth knowing about these 'Noriande' folks?

Adaine puts a hand to his head, sifting through his memories. What do I know...?

History: [roll0] vs. DC 14

[Jarl11]

Kora

Drinking in the information that was read, Kora gazes at Lady Pharana in open admiration. So many questions... coud it really work...?

She lets the silence linger for a minute after her hostess finishes speaking, the air a buzz of energy around her. The plants even seem to be leaning towards her as they would the sun to bask in its rays. Then the imperceptible energy seems to coalesce into resolve, as though she came to a determined conclusion. Kora looks up at the beautiful woman with seriousness in her eyes.

This is a noble persuit... are you sure that you want to risk your own life, such as it may be, on a trial that may not work? I will help you, of course, if such is your desire. I'm not sure how the rays of this medallion, from a god or not, could be greater than that of the sun itself... but if you believe this to be the device required then so be it. Or poor sun is too cut off from this dusty world as it is... A golden stake and silver chains would be simple to craft for one with the proper skill and funding. But what more do you know of this River of the Dead? Or the Tears?

[Razorstorm]

Gerald nods carefully. "Had that come from any but the Noriande, I don't think I'd have believed it. But coming from them, it seems plausible. But what of the other components? Water from the River of the Dead? How do you intend to get that? And what are these Tears that it references?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Lady Pharana places the book back on the shelf, her mouth curved in a slight frown and her brow furrowed. She turns and faces Kora, crossing her arms in front of her. "The "Water from the River of the Dead" is known to me already; it was an alchemical mixture used by the Moorhelm Dwarves as well, although I'm unsure if one civilization found about it from the other or if it was developed independently. It was said to prevent a mortal creature from rising after death if drunk immediately before or after the individual passed on, but the exact way to brew it was lost to the ages, unfortunately. My next step is finding a way to replicate it. Perhaps you've heard of the mixture, one of you? Does Water of the Styx sound familiar?" The vampiress looks around, at the group before her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"As for Tears... Perhaps I'll tell you more about that at a later date. Right now, I'm sure you're all exhausted and ready for a rest in the safety of Moorhollow. Thank you again, for venturing underneath, into the ruins, you four. In retrieving the Sunblessed Amulet, you have done a great service to both me and Moorhollow itself. Until such time as it is required, Gerald, I believe it is only right that you should possess it."

Lady Pharana bows her head slightly at the four men, closing her eyes.

"I apologize for tantalizing you with strange details about a mysterious ritual and then withholding information like this. However, I may in need of your talents once again in the near future, so please do not resent me. Trust is a difficult flower to cultivate, even for me." Her hand strays to her hair, lightly brushing the flower carefully placed in it.

She gives an enigmatic smile, moving to place her hand over Kora's as she strides past the group, her dress swishing softly, barely audible amidst the crackling of the flames in the hearth.

@Kora
Lady Pharana placed a tightly-rolled scroll into Kora's hand when she walked past, clearly masking her action by making it appear to be solely a friendly gesture.

Insight DC 18
Lady Pharana seemed nervous when she was questioned about the "Tears" mentioned in the text, but quickly tried to mask her reaction by changing the topic of conversation. In addition, the way her voice wavered when initially mentioning the "Tears" makes sense now; it would seem that she did not originally intend to mention them at all.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine can't help but narrow his eyes. He realized immediately that he was carrying this "water from the river of the dead" in his pack, but confirmation of the substance's identity doesn't make him trust Pharana's words.

Watch her closely, boy. A vampire can't be up to any good.

Insight: [roll0]

[Jarl11]

Kora

The blonde woman smiles up at the Lady as she touches her hand and moves past them.
Not one prone to shadowed intrigue unless it is of grand import, she assumes it must be so and calmly brings her hands back to her sides, putting the scroll in her pack while casually packing the rest of her uneaten bread and cheese.
That done, she take a good look at Lady Pharana and tries to get a read on what she has told them. Insight [roll0]
After only having had a couple bites, Kora puts the rest of the bread and cheese she had taken from Aramil in her pack and cinches up the straps making her gear ready to go.

Can you recommend a good place to rest here in this little town? Forgive me but I am not sure of where to go. She blushes a bit and looks uncomfortable in saying so. And when should we hope to speak with you again?

[Angel Bob]

Adaine moves closer to Gerald, murmuring discreetly as Kora engages the vampire. "I'm not sure I trust her. But your judgment is better than mine -- should we help her, old friend?"

[Razorstorm]

Adaine moves closer to Gerald, murmuring discreetly as Kora engages the vampire. "I'm not sure I trust her. But your judgment is better than mine -- should we help her, old friend?"

Gerald leans into Adaine, "I think so... but we should stay cautious."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Lady Pharana turns abruptly, facing Kora with an embarrassed look upon her face. She brings her hand up and pinches the bridge of her nose as she responds, her tone steadily regaining its usual optimistic tone. "Oh goodness, I do apologize, Ms. Debarriere. Vanara requested that I give you this small sum, so that you might stay in whatever Inn catches your fancy within Moorhollow. I think she included a bit of extra coin as well; she mentioned something about how much you like exploring. In any case, here you are." The vampiress again approaches Kora, daintily placing a small silken bag into her palm. The bag itself is light, but upon opening it, Kora discovers a single platinum piece, accompanied by a small amount of gold pieces. The total ends up being 108 gold pieces worth of coin; no mean sum. Kora notices Balaern finally taking an interest in her, now that she received a sum of gold. However, he says nothing to her.

"I would like to hear from all of you again, but I do think you all deserve some rest. How about we have another meeting in five days or so? This time, I'll have Melinda and Aramil make a nice dinner for you all. Does that sound agreeable?" She looks about the room, scanning the faces of the various people sitting and standing near the fire.

A few seconds pass, and then Brandis speaks up, his face hard. "I mean no disrespect, milady, but I do not think I wish to return. I thank you for the opportunity to explore the ruins, but I have other matters to which I must attend. I will be with the temple of the Raven Queen, should you wish to reach me." He gives a stiff bow in Lady Pharana's general direction, before turning to address the other three men in the room. "Thank you for accompanying me, comrades. You are all great men; I hope your passing comes peacefully. May Lady Winter's wings protect you all." Brandis presses his first two fingers to his lips in a traditional gesture of respect, nods at Kora, and strides out of the room.

[Jarl11]

Kora

The vibrant blonde woman beams with pleasure at the gift she received, giving her thanks immediately in response. As she notices Balaern's interest, Kora looks at him directly and gives a polite smile with a slightly raised eyebrow. When he chooses not to speak, she lets the moment pass and tucks the coin carefully into her pouch and ensures it's tied in place with a solid knot. She then listens intently to the exchange with Brandis, nodding in return.

After he has left Kora stands smoothly and dons her cloak, slinging her backpack over her shoulders before hanging a large warhammer on her belt and grabbing her shield. First she addresses Pharana. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady. We will speak again soon, I am sure. She then turns her attention to the gentlemen. Would you three like to find a plate for dinner? I would be interested to hear more of your travels and this Dustwalker that you mentioned earlier, if you don't mind putting up with me a little longer!

[Razorstorm]

Gerald bows respectfully to Brandis. "It was a pleasure travelling with you, friend. I hope we can continue as such. If you ever have need of assistance, please let me know."

Then in response to Kora, "Yes, an actual dinner instead of trail rations sounds divine. I think that is a wonderful idea."

[Angel Bob]

Adaine nods a solemn goodbye to Brandis. He has nothing of importance to say to the man; the youth has more troubling things on his mind, in any case.

His ears perk up at the mention of dinner. "I'll come too, if I'm welcome," he pipes in, spurred on by his sparsely-filled stomach.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

After a farewell from Lady Pharana, Aramil shows the group to the door, his demeanor slightly more severe after being sprayed with hot tea. However, he manages to give small smile to Kora, along with a slight bow to the rest, before closing the stone door softy behind the group.

The ashy smell of the wind fills their nostrils, but the air is particularly warm today, a rare event in Moorhollow. Even from the rather secluded location of Glimmerdin Estate, the bustle of the town can be heard. People are talking, arguing, bargaining, singing and a few children can even be heard screaming with laughter. The group continues to walk until they reach a more populated, mercantile sector of the little town, full of various shops, taverns and various other venues. The delicious smell of cooked meat and fresh bread wafts from half-a-dozen eateries, presenting a fine mixture of aromas.

Balaern turns to Adaine. "Say, Adaine; what place has the best food around here? I think I'll be willing to pay, if only this once." A jaunty grin comes into place on Balaern's onyx face, his red eyes glinting mischievously.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Waving pleasantly at the gruff elf as he closes the door, the large blonde woman seems to enjoy being outside, exposed to the air and warmth. Kora walks along with the others wearing a pleasant smile and having light steps.

At Balaern's words, she looks at him with a curious expression but keeps to herself. Not sure that I trust that one... but the others seem nice enough and the recommendations are all I have to go on so far. I will endeavor to not judge him by his dark race, as I don't judge the vampires on the fact that they have fangs. Time will tell true heart's intent.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Before long, the group manages to find a nice-looking eatery with an empty table big enough for the whole group. "The Red Kobold" isn't the finest establishment in town, but Gerald and Adaine both know its reputation for spicy food and excellent service. Although the room they find themselves in is somewhat noisy and crowded, the hum of conversation and the smell of cooking food combine to create a pleasing atmosphere. The waiter is polite and gregarious, his handsome face constantly lit up with a smile. After spending some time chatting with the group, he saunters off into the kitchen in the back of the restaurant, leaving the table with an assortment of drinks.

As the group chats lightly amongst themselves, they notice a figure standing fairly close to their table, not saying a word. Turning to get a better look at the figure, they see an aged, but still burly, man standing, his booted-toe tapping impatiently. His clean-shaven face is hard and somewhat square, and his dark brown eyes are drilling directly into Gerald. However, what is most noticeable about the man is the shiny badge upon his shirt, reading "Sheriff Samuel Moorheime".

The man's lip curls slightly as he looks at Gerald, his arms crossing across his chest. "You finally decided to show your face in town again, eh, cousin? After you've been missing for weeks, no warning, without so much as a note? The last thing anybody heard was that you had gone up to that Vampire bitch's fancy manor, preaching your nonsense about some "Forgotten Lord of Light" and then careening off into the Moorhelm Ruins! Do you have no concern for your own family, Gerald?! After all that I've done for you: helping you home after you had one too many, letting you spend the night in a cell so you wouldn't get in any trouble... You just suddenly get up and leave for who-knows-where with a bunch of moneygrubbing ruffians, and come back with a shiny new necklace. What were you thinking?"

The man, red-faced from his furious tirade, stops to catch his breath for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow. By now, a few of the other patrons have turned to look at the scene the m,an is beginning to cause, but he suddenly looks around, his forehead creased. "Get back to your meals, the lot of you. Family business." The effect is almost immediate. People cease gawking at the table and nervously resume their previous conversations, pointedly avoiding looking over at the table Samuel is standing near.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Once the group receives their drinks, the blonde woman excuses herself for a moment to freshen up. Making her way back to the table she swings by the hearth and tosses something in, pausing for just a moment to watch the flames dance with a thoughtful expression. Approaching the table, she notices a man standing there and tenses when he begins speaking but eases around and into her chair after hearing him call Gerald his "cousin".

She smiles in curiousity and mild amusement, looking from the sheriff to Gerald. Not wanting to get between family and business she knows nothing about, Kora sips her water and waits for Gerald to speak.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald wipes his mouth with his napkin, and sets it down politely, looking up at his cousin. "Good evening, Samuel," he says politely. "And I do appreciate your help during my... troubled time. I certainly made a mess of myself and my life. And I appreciate your concern about my absence. I suppose that the loss of my wife has left me with a particular feeling of independence. I didn't really consider asking your permission about my expedition. And you've made your opinions about my revelations very clear, and I had no reason to think they had changed. So here I am, safely returned from the ruins. It turns out I'm a bit more capable than you give me credit for. But your concern is appreciated. How's the family? Would you like to join us? Though I'll have to ask you to not refer to my companions as ruffians, for they have proven themselves to be good friends."

If you need for a roll, if not, disregard.
Diplomacy [roll0]

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Samuel's expression begins to soften somewhat at Gerald's polite and well-reasoned response; he clearly had not expected such an eloquent retort from his cousin. His face loses its ruddy hue, and his hand strays to the back of his neck, scratching it with a slightly-abashed look upon his face. "Perhaps I was a bit too harsh with you there, Gerald. I offer my apologies to your companions; I meant no offense. It's been a very hard time for me. Seems there's always a lot of ruckus going on down at the Constabulary and I haven't rested properly in more than a week. Ever since that Vampire woman brought us that Necromancer, we've had our hands full trying to sniff out the rest of 'em. They rarely work alone, nowadays..." The burly sheriff rubs his arm wistfully, drawing attention to a nasty scar, no longer concealed by his sleeve. The man gives a small grunt and clears his throat before studying the rest of the group seated with Gerald.

His eyes stop on Adaine, a look of recognition on his features. "You're Valstan's boy, aren't you? Andrew, right? Good to meet you." He offers his hand, giving Adaine a forceful handshake. "Your father's been providing the militia with good steel for as long as I've been Sheriff. A good man, a good smith, a good friend. If you're ever in trouble, my boy, you come to me. Blood runs thicker than water, and as far as I'm concerned, your father's blood to me." Samuel, clearly convinced that he's said something profound, gives a small smile at the group, his previous rage already forgotten.

Heal DC 15
Given the appearance of the scar, it was likely inflicted through magical means. The discoloration indicates a necrotic taint having once taken effect as well. However, it appears to be recovering fairly well.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald furrows his eyebrows. "More necromancers? Are you dealing with a cell? That's mighty concerning. Here, have a seat," he gestures to an empty seat at the table, "tell us what else you've found."

[Jarl11]

Kora

As Samuel moves towards a seat, the woman with large shoulders leans out of her chair and extends a rough hand towards him with a pleasantly disarming smile. My name is Kora. Pleased to meet you! And I'm interested to hear about these necromancers as well... forcing the curse of undeath on creatures is against the natural order of things. Her jaw clenches and the air around her seems to shimmer and flash for a second as if unseen forces are flexing their might with displeasure. The aura is gone the moment it happened, like something seen from the corner of your eye and gone before you could get a better look. Leaving her clear eyes looking back, steady and strong.
Is that where you got that scar?

[Angel Bob]

Adaine quietly brings his glass to his lips, trying to make himself unnoticed. Perhaps before the incursion into the ruins, he would have been more willing to engage in conversation, but with all that has occurred in the past days, he would just as well remain silent and muse to himself.

Stealth: :smalltongue: [roll0]

Father... Adaine has always been close to his father Valstan, his only parent. It was Valstan's bedtime stories that inspired his curiosity in the history of this world, and Valstan's encouragement that urged him to continue his studies with Gerald. I could have died in those tunnels, Adaine recalls with a shock, and my last words to my father would have been... With that, his mind is made up. I must go see him once this dinner is over with.

While Adaine muses, the slightest hint of a fragrant aroma wisps past his nose. He glances over at Kora to catch a glimpse of something... other, something unseen in long ages. The spirits!

[LimeSkeleton]

Dm Post

Samuel nods at Gerald and takes the empty seat, grunting slightly as he sits down. He seems as if he's about to address Adaine once again, but his attention is shifted as Kora offers her hand, which he grips firmly. Although his brow furrows slightly as the air around Kora shimmers, he seems to pay it little mind.

"Yes, cousin, it looks like we're dealing with a cell. Damn necromancers are like any other kind of vermin; they stick together in vicious little swarms." His lip curls up in disgust. "Since you've been gone, there have been something like four different reported instances of controlled undead within the walls. The Ravenguard helped the militia with taking care of them, but we have yet to find any of the perpetrators. One of the creatures was particularly nasty, which is where I got this scar, yes. Good eye, young lady."

The grizzled old sheriff takes a moment to order himself a mug of ale, flicking the server a coin. He rubs his chin thoughtfully for a moment before resuming. "Right now, we got one or two leads, but I don't want to talk about them too much, for fear of accidentally tipping off the Necromancers themselves. However, rest assured, the militia will have this problem resolved in no time." Samuel says this last bit a little more loudly than necessary, obviously trying to put some of the people at neighboring tables at ease.

"One thing I will share is that we've been encountering a strange substance in places where the undead creatures have been. Pretty horrifying stuff, it's this awful black sludge that just reeks of decay. We gave some to Delvin, the alchemist, to see if he could make anything of it. He's not making much headway though, and we'll take any help we can get with finding out more about the stuff. If you'd like a sample, swing by the constabulary and tell George that I sent you. From what I've heard, you two," he points at Gerald and Adaine, "might be able to figure something out."

[Angel Bob]

Adaine's eyes gleam as Samuel mentions the black sludge. His thoughts turn to the mysterious Waters he bears in his pack. The antithesis... I suppose I ought to stop off at the constabulary, then. After I go see Father.

[Jarl11]

Kora

She smiles in thanks and nods her head to Samuel when he addresses her. Then a thoughtful look crosses her face and she sits back while he continues to address the other two men at the table. I need to see this substance. Perhaps there is some connection here between this and Dustwalker... I will stay close to these ones and see if they can help.

Kora glances over at the dark elf to see what he is up to, since he has been quiet this whole time.

When there is a pause in the conversation, she takes the chance to ask: Can you tell us what kind of creatures you have encountered? If there's some way I can help, the more information, the better.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald listens to Samuel's story, and nods understandingly. "We'll certainly take a look at it. If he'll still be around this evening, I can stop by on my way home, or I could get it tomorrow, whichever will work better." He rubs his face wearily, "I don't think I could give it the necessary attention until tomorrow, anyhow. I'm quite exhausted from the travel, and my leg is aching quite a bit." To Samuel, "I hope your men are able to solve this smoothly. My condolences to any families that have lost their father. Please let me know if I any of them are in need of assistance."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Samuel nods appreciatively at the offers of help, his face looking slightly less haggard. "Thank you, cousin. Any help would be much appreciated at this point; I worry that the situation may become worse if we don't make any headway soon. I'll notify my men that some of you may be stopping by, and they can give you a good chunk of information."

He turns to Kora, his brow furrowing at her question. "A good question to ask, but this is not the best place to answer it. I would not want to spoil your meals with talk of what we encountered... I will ensure that you receive a good description tomorrow though, if you still desire it. It is not for the faint of heart, however. The sheriff rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs, his eyes closing for a moment. He then stands up, putting a few gold down to pay for his drink. "Thank you for your offers of assistance, all of you. I need to get back down to the station now; Kohri's been insisting he knows where we should start our next search." With a nod at the table as a whole, and a long look at Gerald, Samuel turns and departs, his hand running through his thinning hair.

Balaern, who had remained uncharacteristically silent for the duration of the conversation, finally puts his head up, a relieved expression on his face. "Thanks for covering for me, friends. I'm pretty certain that he knows I'm the one responsible for that pretty necklace going missing from that Gregorian woman's home. In any case, that was an interesting conversation. Seems we have a bit of a mystery on our hands, eh?" He leans back in his chair a bit, popping a piece of mushroom into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

At this point, the waiter stops by once more, stating the price for the meal and offering chances to order anything additional. Balaern asks for a few items to be packaged up for him to take, but soon the table is cleared and the meal is done and paid for. The light outside has started to grow dim, a clear indication that sunset would be coming soon.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine rolls his eyes at the mention of his old schoolmate. Kohri. He'll probably have them looking through the waste dumps for necromancers, the dolt.

The young warlock leaves a 2-sp tip and exits the restaurant, into the dimming sunlight. "If it's not too much trouble, I'm going to go pay my father a visit," he mutters. "Oh, and keep an eye on that woman," he adds hesitantly. "A fri -- um... that is, something about her catches my interest."

With that, he ducks off down an alleyway, headed for home.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Smiling to the sheriff as he says his farewell and departs, Kora gives a girlish giggle that is rather humorous given her large stature. It turns into a bit of a frown though when the dark elf speaks up.

She pays her bill, leaves an appropriate tip, and makes her way outside with the others. With no real preference, she waits calmly to see what the others are about. Hearing Adaine, she gives him a not-so-subtle wink with a grin before he darts off.

[Razorstorm]

Walking out with the others. Gerald smiles at Adaine before he leaves, "Enjoy the night. We'll see you tomorrow." He turns to Kora and Balaern. "Well, I suppose we have new mysteries to investigate on the morrow. Will you be sticking around, Balaern, or will you be moving on?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Balaern follows the group outside of the restaurant, beginning to whistle a strange, melancholy tune. He nods at Adaine as he heads down the alleyway towards home, his whistling slowly trailing off. Turning about to face Gerald, Balaern strokes his pointed chin thoughtfully for a moment. "I certainly cannot return to my homelands, my friend; that much is for certain." His mouth straightens into a hard line, his eyes distant. "Perhaps I'll be able to find a means of surviving here that doesn't involve thievery. The Drow are strong, but I doubt even an exceptional individual such as myself could survive long in the Wastes alone." He approaches Gerald, pressing a small bag into the man's hands. "I'll be staying at the Hardy Oak Inn, for the time being, my friend. I have a few ideas about finding some information about these necromancers. If I'm going to be staying here, I may as well help make the town safe, yes?" The Drow gives a slight bow in Kora's direction before walking off down the street, beginning to whistle once more.

@Adaine

Adaine finds his family's home just as the streets go dark, the dim light from the skies having finally faded away into nothing. Through a window, he can make out the form of his father, who is sitting in a chair by a burning hearth. An open sack of coal sits a few feet away, leaning against the stone wall the fireplace is built into. As Adaine approaches the front door, he can make out the silhouette of his father's bushy beard and stocky, but well-muscled shoulders. The man's shoulders are slowly moving up and down, perfectly in rhythm with the man's deep, contented snoring. On a nearby table, a single bottle of ale stands empty.

Feel free to describe any details about your house. Just remember that wood is extremely scarce here; people make do with other materials, such as stone, metal, and some woven plant fibers. Also, if you think any visitors or other family members would be present, feel free to include them.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine steps through the doorway, nodding to the dwarven charm that hangs from the ceiling, and slinks into the firelit home. Quietly, he slips off his satchel and sets it at the foot of his bed, then sits down on the stiff mattress. His father snores loudly, and Adaine lets him be.

As the fire crackles and dims, Adaine crosses to the small bookshelf, fit to bursting with tomes, and teases out a book of bedtime stories. Flipping through it slowly and lazily, he leans against the pillows and begins to drift off.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

In time, each member of the party falls into a deep, satisfying slumber, beginning to ease the pains that traveling has brought to them. The only real noise outside is the gentle whisper of the wind, bringing its typical, almost comforting, scent of ash along with it. As Adaine, Gerald, and Kora slumber peacefully within their beds, images come to them in the night, producing in each a vivid, disturbingly lifelike, dream.

Kora is walking slowly down a dark, crumbling hallway, each footstep crunching down on a mixture of ash, tiny bits of stone, and whiter bits which appear to be bone fragments. Her weapons are gone, and her carefully-constructed armor has been replaced by disheveled robes, more fit to be rags than actual clothing. Running her hand along the edge of the hall to feel her way around in the blackness, Kora begins to smell a familiar, coppery scent, which quickly grows from faint to nearly overpowering in its strength. She recognizes the odor of blood, but it's mixed with a flowery, vaguely familiar aroma that tugs at her memory, making her head begin to ache.

Step. Crunch. Step. Crunch. Staring down the hallway, Kora finds that it seems to stretch an absurdly long way; no building could ever have been constructed to be large enough to house it. Still, it stretches on, seeming to pull her inexorably towards some horrible scene she knows she has to look upon before she can even consider escape. As her footsteps continue, a nearly-inaudible humming begins to fill her ears, growing infinitesimally louder with each unsteady footstep.

Soon, she realizes that the hallway, which had previously seemed virtually unending, is leading to a door, cracked open ever so slightly. The smell grows stronger still, and the humming becomes more musical, matching the steadying beat of her footsteps. Minutes pass, and Kora finds her pale hand upon the brass knob of the door, which she finds icy-cold to the touch. The door appears to be stained with a dark liquid, apparently having dried only recently. Independent of her own volition, her hand pushes the door open, revealing the inside.

Kora falls to her knees.

Before her, lying limply on the filth-covered floor, is her friend and mentor, Mistress Vanara. A faint light seems to emanate from her still form, letting Kora see every detail of her condition. Her dress, previously finely-sewn and beautifully embroidered, is now a mess of ripped and stained fabric, revealing much of her abdomen--or at least what's left of it. A deep, horrific gash runs across Vanara's stomach, revealing internal organs and a veritable lake of pooling blood. Her lips are pulled back in a grotesque scream, her fangs clearly showing. Disturbingly, one of her limbs seems to lay on the floor, several feet from her body, apparently messily ripped off with sheer brute force.

Worst of all, her mentor's eyes are opened, staring straight into Kora's. After a moment or two, her eyes slowly blink, her mouth straining to form words.
"Don't...trust...the boy... His lust for power... will cause him... to betray you...and all life..."

Somewhere, in the back of Kora's mind, the rational part of her mind shouts out, screaming that a vampire would never bleed this much, even with a cut of that size. Also, this place isn't real; it can't be real, it doesn't--Kora suddenly feels some dark, nauseating force silence that portion of her thoughts, leaving her only with sheer emotional trauma. Kora collapses onto the floor, her face staying upright, forcing her to look into Vanara's eyes as the dream fades, her ragged clothes slowly seeping up the cold blood on the floor.

Gerald finds himself in a familiar location: a hole-in-the-wall tavern named "Crognar's Spirits", a place only the lowest of the low tend to frequent. The tavern is lit by candles and a small, dying fire in a hearth, giving the whole location a dim light that fails to completely reveal any aspect of the environment. Most objects appear as mere silhouettes, giving Gerald view of a shadowy figure draining a bottle of ale, before rapping on the counter to receive another. Every patron here seems to be alone, silent, and intent on drinking themselves into a stupor.

Gerald himself is sitting at a lonely table, nobody else nearby. Before him sits an entire bottle of fine brandy, seemingly brewed by Crognar himself. The bottle is already half-empty. He knows he's already had far too much to drink, especially since he has no more coin, but he still reaches for the bottle, his gnarled, weak hand grasping the glass limply, then bringing it up to his lips for a sip--or perhaps a gulp.

As the liquor begins pouring down his throat, Gerald is struck by a familiar feeling of hopelessness and depression. "How could he be so pathetic?" Why can't he get his life together?" This is why his wife left him." The hateful voice in the back of his mind seems to grow stronger with each insult, bombarding him with terrible accusations and blaming him for every single thing that had ever gone wrong in his life. His eyes about to fill with bitter tears, Gerald reaches for the bottle once more, hating himself all the while.

However, as his hand touches the smooth glass, Gerald feels a strange warmth on his chest, driving his attention away from the drink before him. Realizing that the nagging voice has gone silent, Gerald peers down at his chest, wondering what exactly is causing the pleasant, comfortable feeling he's experiencing.

Emblazoned on his bare chest is the emblem of a golden sun, seeming to rise over a distant horizon. The light from the symbol on his skin lights up the area before him, and he feels himself standing up out of his chair, his back straight. Looking about, he sees that the shades of the other drinkers have disappeared, leaving him alone in a dimly-lit tavern, devoid of any noise except a distant voice,seeming to speak to him from far, far away...

"Child, awaken from thy dark dreams. The light of Pelor may guide you to safety, but it is up to you to make the final leap. Do not allow the wretched power of this dark magic to ruin the good in your heart. Use your strength, and push this unholy influence from your psyche."

With a sudden burst of energy, Gerald feels a strange, nauseating presence leaving his mind, screaming in rage and agony. As it departs, he catches the barest glimmer of a face: A young Halfling woman, her face riddled with ritualistic scars, her eyes dark and filled with ire. Finally, Gerald wrenches himself awake, looking about the room, which is brightly illuminated by the Sunblessed Amulet around his neck. The light slowly fades, returning to the dim, comforting glow it had previously possessed.

Adaine floats listlessly in a dark void, naked and cold. Surrounded by an inky abyss, he cannot see any source of light, nor feel any winds around him. Just a pervasive feeling of cold and sheer wrongness, which causes him to shiver as he floats, his limbs drawing towards his body in a futile effort to conserve warmth.

Suddenly, he hears the faintest of voices, calling his name softly. "Come closer, Adaine. I've been waiting to speak with you for some time now.. You'll be comfortable here; I have a fire you can warm yourself by. You just need to will yourself to come to me." Left little choice but to comply with the voice, Adaine wills himself to move towards the source of the soft, feminine voice, his body beginning to gently soar through the frigid void.

Before long, Adaine finds his feet alighting upon what seems to be a dirt-covered cliff face, touching down gently and feeling some of the cold ebb away from his body. Walking forward blindly, he begins to sense another presence, only a short distance away. However, he cannot see anything in the inky blackness. "Adaine, don't try to see with your . You have no physical body here, truly. Will yourself to see, and you shall. With another effort of will, Adaine begins to perceive a dimly-lit landscape, a small campfire burning several feet ahead of him.

He stands upon the edge of a massive pillar of black stone, covered with a thin layer of soil. A few gnarled, dead trees stand tall, but the surface area of the pillar stretches only a dozen or so meters before dropping off into a void. However, rather than pure darkness, Adaine can see countless motes of red light in the far-reaches of the strange area, each twinkling with a meek, yet pervasive, glow. Looking down at his body, he finds that he is wearing a simple, white robe. His skin is free of any wounds or blemishes, and he feels oddly content.

Standing across from him, on the opposite side of the campfire, is a breathtakingly beautiful woman. Standing a few inches taller than Adaine, her willowy form reminds him of the tales he's heard of Nymphs, and other such mythological creatures. Her ears, slightly pointed, poke out of a short shock of platinum-blonde hair, giving her an impish look. However, Adaine finds himself more interested in her entrancing green eyes, and her full, sensuous, mouth which curls into a slight smile.

"Hello, Adaine. It's wonderful to finally meet you." The woman smooths her pure-white robes , her slender hands coming to rest on her hips. "My time here is limited, but I wanted to make sure you learned something, my little warlock." Her gaze grows sharper, almost predatory. "We've been noticing how powerful you're becoming, and we think you have potential to join our organization. We could always use someone as [i]powerful" she suddenly appears directly next to Adaine, her arm draped around his neck, carressing his shoulder, "as you on our side." She fixes her green eyes directly on Adaine's own, her face incredibly close to his. As he stands there, locked in time with the entrancing woman, Adaine suddenly feels a surge of energy, seeming to emanate from the pillar beneath him. It fills his body, intoxicating him with sheer power. She smiles wider, cupping his face in her other hand. Yes.. You certainly have potential. That power could be yours, you know."

Her face suddenly grows concentrated, and she grimaces slightly, her mouth pressing into a hard line. Her eyes disengage from Adaine's, and he feels less entranced, suddenly realizing the strangeness of the whole situation--and the fact that he's been unable to speak for the duration.

"Use this if you you ever want to contact me again; I can't stay for much longer." She presses a strange, glassy orb into Adaine's hand, its surface a burnished silver color.

"Farewell, Adaine. I do hope to see you again soon." She gives a small wink as Adaine suddenly finds himself zooming away from the pillar, revealing the intricately-carved, stone sides, plunging into the abyss below. He has enough time to see countless, immensely-complex runes, each glowing with a faint red light, covering the pillar, and then he suddenly awakes, hearing his father preparing for the morning, humming lightly to himself.

Looking in his hand, which is resting lightly on the bed beside him, he finds that the silver orb still rests in his grasp, cold to the touch.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald breathes heavily from his study chair, where he had fallen asleep, a cup of tea gone cold on the small table next to him. As the glow from his amulet dies down, he realizes that the fire in his hearth had dimmed down to coals, leaving a warm orange glow in the room. He stood up, and headed to his wash basin. He poured a bit of water into the bowl from the pitcher, and splashed his face, and rested there for a moment, while his heart slowed. He looked at himself in the mirror, dim though it was, and he smiled.

Now... who was this halfling woman?

[Jarl11]

Kora

Sitting up with a sudden gasp as she wakes, Kora looks around her empty room at the Inn with a clenched jaw and tears running freely down her cheeks. Knowing it was a dream does not make the painfully real images fade and frustrated anger bubbles up to suppress the sadness of the dream. The window springs open as she whirls in bed and slams her fist again and again into the hard mattress, energy crackles in the room for a moment and a wild animal can be heard howling nearby. With a deep breath, Kora calms herself and wipes the tears from her face. She feels damp from sweating and decides she may as well get up. Halfway out of bed she stops cold recalling more of the dream... That was not a normal dream... There was some sort of force or presence... I can't run back to check on her, it would take weeks. What is it about this boy - is he a threat, a pawn or a distraction?

Making her way to her things, she lifts out a small container filled with dry, dusty soil and sits on the rough floor cupping it. With her fingers and her mind, she searches for the little seed that she planted and works to try and coax it to sprout while pondering the dream and what she should do about it.

[Angel Bob]

As the dim light begins to trickle through the window, Adaine sits at the edge of his bed, shivering in the slight chill. Who... who was she? he murmurs, even as fragments of a dream float through his head. A woman... radiant like the dawn, her appearance enchanting and mesmerizing... That kind of beauty is not mortal, Adaine muses. She must have owed her appearance to magic.

That reminds him of something more worrying than a beautiful woman. ...Power, Adaine recalls, that's what she was on about. Power... my power.

Adaine rises from his bed and crosses to the shelf, where a child's carving of his departed mother rests. He glances over it for a moment, taking a seat on a small stool. There had been a promise of power, more power, if he could do something... what was it she wanted? He could not seem to remember.

All the same, more power was always enticing. Ever since the Confluence, I've felt... strong. Stronger than boneheaded Kohri, even. He picks out a dusty children's book and opens it to faded illustrations of trees and bushes, magnificent in their vivacity. If I had more power... could I bring back the old days? Zutwa, would you aid me?

The voice stirs from slumber. ...Perhaps. But watch... the woman... Kora. Nature breathes through her.

Hmph. What about you, My Liege? What say you of more power?

Elidyr wakens. Power is a useful tool, boy, but you cannot let it control you. Before we take up such an offer, I must trust you will not be consumed by the urge for more power. I have seen too many men and women travel down that dark path. The only ones who can be trusted with power are those who would just as easily give it up.

So tell me honestly, boy: once our task is done, will you be able to give it up?

Adaine glances towards his satchel, the book still resting inside. For a long time, he is silent.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Adaine
As Adaine sits silently, contemplating his current situation, his door swings open softly, revealing a short, stocky man with a bushy beard and well-trimmed hair, both beginning to gray. His eyes lock onto Adaine, his mouth slowly turning upwards. He then takes several steps forward and gives his son a bone-crunching hug, patting him hard on the back. "Adaine, my boy! You're back! I can't say I'm surprised, you've always been tough 'un, but I still worried." He releases Adaine and takes a step back, his mouth still pulled into a happy smile. He then takes a seat in a nearby metal chair, which creaks under his sturdy, muscular form, but does not yield. "How was the expedition? I gather it was successful, seeing as you're in one piece! He lets loose a short blast of hearty laughter at his comment before falling silent, eyeing Adaine expectantly, an air of pride in his countenance.

@Gerald
As light begins to filter through his window, Gerald stirs, his body feeling rested and rejuvenated. Morning has come, which brings with it the beginnings of chaos beneath his floor. The children of the orphanage start their day with restless chatter, which soon turns to the sounds of scraping chairs and clinking bowls as they eat their breakfast. Every once in a while, Gerald hears a few words of their conversations drifting upstairs. "..hear? Gerald's back, and now he has a huge sword!" "...fought off an entire army of shamblers with only his staff!" "...Drow with him, but he had to carry him back on his shoulders." Their discussions continue in this vein for some time, gradually becoming more and more outlandish as time goes on.

Before long, Gerald hears a light rapping at his door, accompanied by a soft voice calling out to him. "Gerald, are you awake? I heard you return last night, but I didn't want to bother you. The children are already fed, and there was enough oatmeal left for you. I even managed to get a slice of ham to go with it. May I come in? The matron of the orphanage, an elderly woman whose hair had long since turned gray, makes clinking noises as she rearranges some bowls on a platter.

@Kora
After dressing herself and bathing in clean, warmed water, Kora feels the weariness she'd felt from traveling truly begin to leave her body. Although her Inn room was small, it was warm and comfortable, helping her get the rest she had so sorely needed. After readying herself, she makes her way dwonstairs for the promised complementary brekfast, the low murmuring of the other reidents clearly audible. In the dining portion of the Inn, the guests are served steaming bowls of porridge, accompanied by mugs of cool water to wash it down. As she sits, enjoying her simple, yet tasty, meal, she notices a figure standing a few feet from her table, trying to get her attention.

A male Elf, tall and slender, and clothed in simple green robes, stands before her. Noticing that her attention has shifted to him, he bows, his dark hair spilling over his face as he does so. After he stands straight again, he brushes the hair out from over his glittering black eyes, then reaches into his robes, pulling out a wooden object. "It is an honor to meet you, blessed Warden. May Melora and the Spirits smile upon your fate. I am Lhoris, Acolyte to the Goddess of the Wild and servitor of the spirits." He brandishes the wooden object, which has been carefully carved into the image of a seashell. His cheeks color somewhat as he looks at Kora, his feet shifting nervously.

Insight DC 8
He seems quite smitten with Kora, as well as somewhat intimidated.

[Jarl11]

Kora

A welcoming smile spreads across the young woman's face as she stands to return the honor given her by this Elf. Bowing slightly in return, so as not to disturb the table or make it an awkwardly long moment, she pushes back her cloak and motions to the seat across from her. I am honored to make your acquaintance, Lhoris, Acolyte of Melora and servitor to the spirits. Please, sit with me! Any true friend of the spirits is a friend of mine. It has been an unsettling time for me since arriving at Moorhollow. The spirits are ever watchful however and somewhere beyond this wasteland the sea must be roaring. I am interested to hear your story and why you have sought me out while I finish my meal.

Returning to her seat, Kora studies the Elf and looks at the beautiful wooden sea shell in interest. That must be his holy symbol... I had thought that worshipers of the Wild were as rare as Wardens! If only I could witness the majesty of the sea... maybe they have found a way to grow things in the harsh world again!! Smiling, she contains her excitement and listens.

Kora watches to see if Lhoris shows any recognition to her signature cloak when she opens it. More, she looks to see if she can determine his approximate age and professional attributes by looking at his hands, boots, facial features, the wear of his robes (cloak?) and any weapons, spell components or items he may have on him.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald

"Of course, of course! Please come in, and thank you for the breakfast. Weeks on trail rations has left me starving for real food." He clears a spot at the table in his study for the tray, and offers her a chair, smiling kindly. "The children sound exhuberant. How have things been in town?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Kora
Lhoris gives a second clumsy bow before sliding into the proffered seat, his hand still gripping the wooden holy symbol. "I am sorry to interrupt you so early in the morning, milady. I know it may seem strange that I know who you are, although we have never met.." He shifts awkwardly in his chair, his other hand drumming lightly on the table. "but my mentor, the head Shaman and priest of Melora, told me that someone quite important had come to Moorhollow. I believe his words were: 'One whose very footsteps may someday leave verdant forests in their wake.' The spirits speak to him, you see. They tell him of coming weather, potential disasters, and sometimes even prophecies." Lhoris pauses, returning the wooden symbol to beneath his cloak. "His name is Sinthrei Stormcaller, and he sent me to seek you out and request your aid... Regardless, Milady, it brings me joy to hear you speak of Melora's heartsblood, the seas. Someday, I wish to travel far from here, to witness their majesty for myself..." His eyes grow distant and he grips his holy symbol once more, a slight smile meeting his lips. Quickly, he returns to gaze to Kora, then drops it again, turning slightly pink. "Apologies. I got a bit distracted for a moment. Master Stormcaller sent me to find the source of this power and beseech them for aid, because we have found a problem that is beyond our expertise, currently. You see.." he looks around the room, then leans in, continuing with a lowered voice "someone has stolen Folius, a sapling that we believe sprung from a seed of the World Tree itself." Finding himself closer to Kora after leaning in, Lhoris suddenly backs up, nearly knocking over a mug as he does so.

@Gerald
The woman walks in slowly, her simple, brown dress fluttering softly on the floor. Setting the tray on the table, she takes the chair gratefully. "It was no problem at all. Do enjoy, Gerald. I should be able to get you a second helping, if you'd like." She gives him a sweet smile, clearly enjoying doting on him. "The children are quite glad to see you're back safe and sound. They heard that you'd departed to the ruins, and then, recently, they heard you were seen walking to that vampire woman's home with a flashy amulet and hardly a mark. It didn't take long for them to turn you into some kind of legendary hero. Enjoy while it lasts, Gerald; fame is a fickle friend." She chortles lightly, her eyes twinkling. "The only strange thing going on here has been the nightmares they've been having, to be honest. Oh, there's been some business with necromancers out there," she waves her hand toward the window, presumably indicating a place deeper in the town "but we haven't seen or heard hair nor hide of those dark wizards. The children have been having strange nightmares for a week now though. I hope it will pass soon, but the fact that they all mention the same thing once they wake makes me think someone should bless the place." She looks at Gerald again, her eyes widening slightly. "Of course, I had nearly forgotten! You're a priest..of sorts, right? The uh... Lightbringer, I believe you call him. If nothing else, saying you're helping out would make the children feel better. Who knows, maybe "Pallor" will protect their dreams from evil; I've seen stranger things happen." She smiles at Gerald, her eyes lingering on the amulet upon his chest.

Something in the way her eyes moved when the mentioned the children having nightmares makes Gerald think that they're not the only ones experiencing this phenomenon. Also, given the way she's been eyeing the amulet, it almost looks like she's hearing something coming from that direction, and is making every effort to make it appear as though she is not hearing something.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine reciprocates the embrace, glad for the warmth of home. "Glad to see you, too, Father," he smiles. "The expedition was... an experience. We found the halls of the dwarves; they were just a little ways beyond what I'd explored. I can only wonder what else lies deeper in the earth.

"Gerald found his amulet, which is great news; that finding really validates the existence of the Lightbringer. Actually, the Lightbringer's power came in handy... while we were exploring, we were attacked by some undead. Worse than shamblers; I'm not sure what they were, to be quite honest. But Gerald managed to blast them to bits with sunlight... it was spectacular, really. I should ask him to display those powers to the other townsfolk. Maybe we could have a show.

"Anyway, there were some other things down there as well. This" (he holds up the mahogany rod) "is a magic rod, but more importantly, it's carved from wood. Just like in the stories! It's been preserved all these years by the enchantments binding it together. Quite the wonder.

"But the really interesting ones..." Adaine digs through his satchel for the items in question. His hand brushes the book, and he flinches; but after a moment, he draws out the mysterious flasks. "...are these! I found them in a dwarven mausoleum, and I think they might be some of the fabled Waters of the Styx: said to preserve a body from undeath!" He chuckles. "Unless they're just some strong dwarven drink, of course."

[Razorstorm]

Insight [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald

Gerald smiles while he takes a few bights of oatmeal, listening patiently. "Yes, I could certainly complete a ritual to bless this place. High time, in fact, I think! Now about these dreams... they're all having the same one, you say? Hmm, very strange." He pours a cup of tea for himself and another for her. He drops a lump of sugar into his, then looking at her gently, "One lump or two?" After fixing her tea, he pushes the cup across the table to her, making it clear that they were going to have a chat.

He takes a long moment to blow on then sip his tea. Finally he returns to the topic. "So.. these dreams. What happens, exactly?"

[Jarl11]

Kora

Alarmed at the possibilities presented by Lhoris' revelation, Kora stops eating and stares, slightly dumbfounded. "That... that would be amazing! Please, tell me more about this Folius. And where did you hail from?"
Passive Insight is 14. Here's a roll tho as she would be actively trying to get a read on him.
Insight [roll0]
Passive perception is 19.

When he speaks, Kora finishes her meal without tasting it anymore.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Gerald
"Just one cube, thank you." The old woman nods in thanks as she receives the cup of tea from Gerald, lifting it to her mouth almost immediately. After a long sip, she sets it down carefully, her face looking slightly more haggard. The bags under her eyes are much more obvious now, and her shoulders sag slightly, as if she were supporting great deal of weight. She takes a few moments to stare down at her hands, apparently having a hard time expressing exactly what she'd like to talk about.

"Yes the dreams--they're always the same. Or so the children tell me, at least!" She adds this last part a bit too quickly, her cheeks coloring slightly. "They're walking down a long, well-trodden path in a dark place. There are huge trees on either side of the path, but they're not beautiful, like the ones in the old tapestries and Dwarven carvings; they're hideous, dead. Their branches hang down like claws, trying to grab at me--I mean, grab at the children. As they begin to run down the path, this mad laughter begins, like some sort of insane, murderous, evil...child. The withered roots on the ground grab at their ankles and pull them down, while this horrible, masked figure finally catches up, and looms over them. It gets lit up by some strange pale light from the sky, its wooden features hideous and madly-gleeful." She swallows slightly, then takes another long gulp of tea, almost dropping it in the process. Her hand shaking, she returns it to the table's surface. "It looks like a child; a dead, decayed child. Dressed in rags and dead leaves, with a gaping hole where its heart should be. Its fingers are long, ending in wickedly-sharp claws, which are always dripping some sort of black sludge onto the ground. Then, the wooden mask starts leaking the same substance, and the carved mouth starts to move, drooling black sludge onto my face." She doesn't seem to notice her slip-up this time; her eyes are staring at the floor, wide-open and unblinking. "It always says the same thing, Gerald... 'The trees are thirsty, child. Let your blood water their dry roots, and your soul strengthen their boughs. The forests of Arcadia will thrive once more. ' Then it leans forward, like it's ready to tear me apart.. But the children always wake up, sometimes screaming."

The old woman finishes the last of her tea, her face still distant for nearly a minute. "Oh, I'm sorry, Gerald. I didn't mean to bother you with some silly nightmares. I'm sure that a few blessings will get rid of them; it's probably just a trickster spirit of some kind, up to no good." She smiles weakly, her eyes drifting to the amulet on Gerald's chest once more.

Gerald remembers reading references to "Arcadia" in some old books regarding legends about the world when it was a "green, verdant land". Apparently, it was a strange, insanity-causing realm that was thought to have occasionally bled over into the natural world from time to time.

However, some ancient texts purport that, after the end of the "age of forests", Arcadia turned in on itself, succumbing to complete and utter insanity and anarchy. Most creatures within were destroyed, while others fled into the natural world while they could. Mages and historians speculate that some creatures may still lurk within, long since dead and decayed, but still desperately searching for a way into the natural world.

@Adaine
Valstan, Adaine's father, runs through a variety of different facial expressions throughout the story. Surprise, concern, pride, and perhaps even a touch of fear flit across his face, his hand scratching at his beard thoughtfully throughout the whole retelling. "You've certainly made me proud, m'boy. Not many could face down creatures like that and live to tell the tell, but my boy did. Just wait until I tell the men at the forge!" He gives a hearty laugh, clasping Adaine's hand and shaking it. A thoughtful expression soon returns to his face, however, and his brow furrows. "I'd bet the Ravenguard would love to hear about your encounter with those monsters down in the ruins, though. Same with the potions you got in those bottles. Maybe it's time they begin extending their reach deeper into the ruins, if undead still roam the halls..." He leans back, mulling over his words for a bit.

"As for Gerald... Well, I suppose everyone deserves a second chance. If he fought as bravely as you say he did, then he redeemed himself in my eyes. A man who can face down evil like that, while helping out my son, no less, is a good enough man to me. This "Lightbringer" is starting to sound mighty interesting, but I don't think Javik will like hearing about it. You know how he is." He shrugs slightly. Taking a look at Adaine's new wooden implement, Valstan leans in again, his eyes twinkling.

"Quite the find, there, Adaine. Collectors would pay a fortune for it. It's yours though, so do what you like with it; nobody else was brave enough to take it from those old tombs. Looks like it's made of oak, underneath all that decoration. I have to say, it reminds me a bit of the legend of Ordek Treehammer, the mighty dwarf who smashed giants with his living, growing Oak-tree hammer..." Valstan stops himself before he launches into the old story, realizing that Adaine probably already knows it by heart.

Javik Grentville, the local head priest of Bahamut, has made his opinions about Gerald and his "new god" very clear in the past. He doesn't like Gerald, doesn't believe his tales, and emphatically states that such claims are heresy, at best. Other Moorhollow citizens may have been more receptive to Gerald's newfound deity and abilities if it wasn't for Javik's influence.

@Kora
Lhoris smiles at Kora's reaction, seemingly in a combination of relief and excitement. "Great! Fantastic! Thank you so much, milady."Realizing that he just nearly shouted, the elf looks about the crowded room, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Perhaps it would be best to accompany me to the Temple of Melora, here in Moorhollow? It's on the other side of town from here, but it won't be too long of a walk. Master Stormcaller can tell you much better than I can, and we'll be away from any eavesdroppers that might be about." He rises, standing up very straight, his features turning pink again. "Err, that is, assuming you'd like for me to accompany you, milady." His expression hopeful, Lhoris brushes a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes.

From what Kora can glean, Lhoris is being entirely truthful in his explanation, although it seems he may know more about the situation than he's willing to let on right now. In any case, he's too flustered by Kora's presence to get a perfect read on him.

[Jarl11]

Kora

The temple of Melora with a living plant... the strange dream... a boy as a focus... and a necromancer on the loose. At least 2 of those things seem connected. Perhaps this priest can provide more information. Or maybe we can help each other out...

Pushing aside her bowl and finishing her water in a couple gulps, Kora smiles broadly at the flustered elf. "I may be able to find my way but would prefer if you came along! You can never be too safe in these times and it would be nice to have a strong young man with me for safety. There have been some troubling events in Moorhollow and in my dreams of late. Perhaps there are connections or we can find common ground. Let's go talk with your Priest.

She cleans up her dishes, leaves a quiet msg with the Inn Keeper that she has gone to the Temple of Melora with a young Elf, in case anyone is looking for her, and then gathers her gear and urges the Lhoris to lead the way with a smile of encouragement and hope.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald History [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

Gerald

Gerald's eyes are heavy with sympathy. He, of all people, knows the weight of recurring nightmares. He reaches out and gently places his hand on top of hers, and looks her in the eyes. "That sounds like a horrible dream. I don't blame the children for being frightened one bit." He smiles and pats her hand, intentionally changing the energy of the conversation, "And I'm sure a blessing will indeed help." He stands up and starts moving to his bookshelf, "But I'm not so sure about the trickster spirit. Some details of your dream have me wondering about..." He stops suddenly, when her eyes follow, not him moving across the room, but his amulet. He looks at her quizzically, "You haven't been able to keep your eyes off of this thing, and the way you talk.. it's as if your speaking over someone talking at you. What's going on?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Kora
Lhoris leads Kora through Moorhollow's tightly-packed streets, deftly avoiding the busiest sections of the town with the easy grace of a lifetime resident. As he does so, he does his best to explain to Kora about various important sections of the town, but it is clear he's sometimes having a bit of a hard time phrasing his words properly. On one notable occasion "Valstan the Blacksmith" somehow morphs into "Valstan the Smackbitch", which causes him to splutter and apologize profusely for his accidental profanity. However, despite his uncooperative mouth, Lhoris is able to bring Kora to the other side of Moorhollow, and, before, long, directly in front of the Temple of Melora.

The temple is made from a simple, gray stone, with intricate carvings of the sea, trees, and flowers along the front wall. Several large windows dot the walls of the temple, leaving it very open to the outside. "It helps us keep track of the winds", Lhoris explains. The doors, also crafted from gray stone, are propped wide-open, revealing the simple, yet beautiful interior of the temple. One of the most interesting elements of the temple is the flooring--or rather, the lack thereof. A fine layer of loom is spread over the entire temple floor, endowing the temple with a rich, earthy scent. Dotted throughout the room are several small plants, feebly struggling for life in the soil. Several people are kneeling in the dirt, surrounding a single rose that has only recently begun to sprout. Lhoris leads Kora past them quietly, and she can barely make out a deep humming coming from the group. "It's a ritual to help the plants grow" he whispers. "Unfortunately, it only seems to work on fairly small plants." Padding across the loamy soil silently, Lhoris brings Kora to a secluded corner of the temple, where an aging human kneels alone, in silence. After a time, he touches a wooden symbol of Melora to his lips and kisses it, before taking a scoop of earth and whispering a blessing into it, then finally scattering it around the area before him.

Finally, the man stands, turning around slowly to look at Lhoris and Kora. At least, he would have looked at them, had it not been for the fact that he was quite clearly entirely blind. His eyes stare off randomly into the distance, covered by a light, filmy layer. A moment later, his nostrils twitch slightly, and then he quickly pulls out a green strip of cloth, tying it around his head to cover his eyes. A silver seashell is carefully embroidered on its front.

"Greetings, Warden Kora. May the spirits guide your steps and may Melora put the wind at your back." He stoops, giving Kora a respectful bow. "I am Sinthrei Stormcaller."

@Gerald
She smiles gratefully, nodding her head slightly when Gerald agrees to bless the house. When Gerald questions her, her eyes open very wide, suddenly, and her face flushes somewhat. "Oh, what? I-I.. It's just that, I swear I can hear a voice coming from your amulet.. A whisper, or something, that keeps telling me to "Purify myself" and that I'm "Not wholly in control". I'm not hallucinating, am I, Gerald?" She seems fairly worried now, and her face becomes paler still. The old woman attempts to stand up, but her legs immediately buckle from beneath her, and she is forced to sit back down in the chair, her hands gripping the arms of the chair like a lifeline."It's not a threatening voice. It just makes me feel strange, like it's trying to wake me up from a dream. I probably just need some more time to sit down. Maybe a glass of water.."

Her eyes widen again, and then her hand flies to her forehead and she gives a slight yelp, as if she had suddenly acquired a pounding headache.

With the way she's reacting to the Amulet, and the (Not particularly helpful) way she described how she's feeling, it seems likely that there is some sort of magical effect on her that the Sunblessed Amulet is automatically attempting to counter. If her dream is anything to by, it could be some sort of influence from Arcadia, as dreams are a common medium for creatures from Arcadia to affect mortals.

The fact that the amulet is only speaking to the old woman, and is requesting that she purify herself rather than addressing Gerald as it has done in the past, is extremely unusual. This may mean that something is specifically interfering with Gerald's telepathic connection with the artifact.

[Angel Bob]

"Ah, yes, good old Ordek!" Adaine grins. "That story never gets old." Both pause for a moment in quiet reminiscence, remembering how eager Adaine was as a child to hear the story of Ordek's duel with Gurimmo, self-proclaimed King of Giants.

"In any case... I hadn't thought of telling the Ravenguard. I suppose I ought to do that today." He pauses for a moment, wondering whether he should reveal the Waters of the Styx to the guards. They might confiscate them for study, and then how will Lady Pharana complete her ritual? ...Eh, I'll make that decision when I reach their 'nest'.

He frowns. "I've been spending so much time in the ruins, I'd nearly forgotten about Reverend Grentville... I wish I had. What sort of fiery orations has he been giving lately? More about how Gerald's some sort of depraved demonologist?" He sighs. "I must say, I'm glad we never attended services to Bahamut. I don't think I could put up with seeing Reverend Grentville every week."

[Jarl11]

Kora

The blonde woman pauses for a moment, her head cocked to the side as though intently listening. "Greeting Master Stormcaller," she suddenly returns with a friendly smile and a small, awkward bow, "May the spirits guild your hand and the seas wash away the dust. You do me honor, and though I am not a convert of your god, I can see in your temple that we hold some of the same things sacred. Thank you for the invitation and entertaining tour guide." Kora gives a teasing grin at the Elf next to her. Then, as an excited girl that was distracted by the pleasantries she brushes back a few loose strands of hair jumps right to the point, "I suspect we may be able to help each other... but first, how may I help you? For what purpose did you call me here?"
Kora will take in as much as she can at the temple, listening to the chants and seeing if she can understand how they (and Stormcaller) specifically interact with the spirits.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Adaine
Valstan shakes his head at the mention of Grentville's sermons, rolling his eyes slightly and grumbling. "Never did like the Reverend much. He may be a whole lot more pious than I am, but that doesn't make him a good man. But you know that, Adaine. He stands up from the chair, his back cracking loudly as he does so. "I've got some breakfast made, if you'd like to share a meal with me before I head to the forge. It's been pretty busy for me lately; the Ravenguard and the town Militia have both been requesting plenty of new pieces. Something about a couple necromancers making a mess of things..." He shakes his head again, before lumbering out into the kitchen. From his bedroom, Adaine begins to hear the sounds of bowls clinking and a kettle bubbling. The smells slowly waft through his bedroom door, filling his nostrils with the scent of warm bread, fried eggs, and hot tea.

@Kora
Stormcaller smiles at Kora, revealing several missing teeth. "One does not need to worship my goddess to respect the wilds, Warden Kora, I agree. Anyone can appreciate the beauty of the natural world, even if few can understand it so well as you or I." He gives another grin, this one somewhat mischievous. With a flourish, Sintrhei draws his robes about him, and then begins to walk at a leisurely pace, his bare feet padding softly over the soil. He nods in the general direction of Lhoris who, still bright red from Kora's previous comment, gives a deep bow to both Stormcaller and Kora, before striding off towards the group of people surrounding the rose.

After the Elf departs, the old man stops in his tracks, tracing his hand along a stone carving of a beautiful forest on the wall of the temple. He brushes his fingers along it for some time, whispering some sort of blessing as he does so. Finally, he turns to Kora once more, his expression more serious than before. "The spirits have spoken to me, Warden, more clearly than they have in a very long time. Your coming here is no coincidence; it is you who is meant to retrieve the Sacred Sapling from those who would warp it to their own nefarious purposes." The man rubs the bridge of his nose, just under the strip of cloth covering his eyes.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald

Seeing the woman fall back into her chair, Gerald suddenly thinks he may have a lead on what is going on. He jumps to his feet, and crosses over to her. "Do you feel all right? Hold on, don't move." He hobbles across the room to his ritual bag, and grabs some of his tools. He comes back to her with a crystal in hand. He traces a circle around her in chalk, accented with a few runes, and whispers a few words before sealing the circle with an application of will. He then holds out a flat piece of crystal and moves it slowly from her head to toe, back and forth, whispering a quiet, soothing mantra.

Arcana check to see if I can detect what might be affecting her.
[roll0]

[Jarl11]

Kora

Smiling to herself at how she rather likes the blind old man, the large blonde woman brushes her hair back in thought for a moment. "There are so many questions, Priest..." She starts, using the title as a bit of a friendly nickname and a quip towards him worshiping a deity while the spirits are the most obvious source for life. "By your reference, does this have anything to do with the necromancer that seems to be in the town? I have yet to properly introduce myself to him." She hefts the large hammer on her belt to indicate that he likely won't enjoy the greeting. No self-respecting warden would tolerate a necromancer doing unholy things for long. "And although I want to see this sapling, before I agree to anything I would prefer to know the particulars of it's disappearance, what has been done about it and if there are any suspectedm connections with another strange instances in my life lately."

She suggests that they find a seat somewhere private and if he will sit with her. She lets him tell about the sapling's theft and then she proceeds to tell him about her dream and ask for advice, knowing little of the ways of magic herself. She suspects this necromancer is connected to the theft and wants to know if it's possible that he may be responsible for the intrusive dream as well or if there are other nefarious threats in the area.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Gerald
The old woman shakes her head gently as Gerald prepares his materials, as if she were attempting to dislodge a particularly stubborn fly from the top of her head. Every shake elicits a quiet, irritated grunt--a mixture of pain and irritation. The chalk circle closes just as she begins to mutter incoherently, occasionally managing to utter complete words, but lacking any clear, complete sentences. The words "tree" and "blood" are both mentioned a few times, often accompanied by small gasps of pain from the elderly woman, her hand often pressing hard on her forehead in response. However, the application of Gerald's magical skill, along with his calming, rhythmic mantra, seems to gradually calm the woman down, her muttering becoming less frantic and her motions less erratic.

A few minutes pass by, the room filled only with the sounds of chanting and occasional, quiet rambling. The time proves fruitful, however, as Gerald is able to glean a few important bits of information from his careful study of the woman's condition. First and foremost, the woman is not possessed by any sort of creature, despite her strange behavior. The effects would likely have been much more dramatic and terrible if that were the case. Secondly, the influence that taints her being clearly has its origin in Arcadia; the magical energy Gerald detects has the telltale feeling of madness and dreamlike capriciousness. Finally, the extent of the influence from Arcadia on the woman's being is enough so that a being from Arcadia could not have done this alone (At least, not in Moorhollow). Someone must have assisted the being, as the strength of its influence is too powerful to have been done without direct access to the natural world, although the exact methods are nearly impossible to discern.

On a happier note, the influence is relatively easily eradicated. In fact, it would only take Gerald an hour or so at most to cleanse and bless the entire house, should he so desire. This makes it seem likely that the woman and the orphans were not the intended targets of the being's influence; it may be that they were affected as a byproduct of something else entirely...

@Kora
The old priest leads Kora to a more secluded area in the temple: a small, closed-off section that houses a variety of different fungi, several of which glow with a pale blue light. Kneeling down on the dirt, Stormcaller addresses Kora gravely, his jaw set firmly. "As I'm sure Lhoris informed you, we of the temple of Melora have come to believe that this stolen sapling had some connection to the World Tree itself. Some believed it grew from a seed of the World Tree, others believed it to be sort of gift from the World Serpent that guards that sacred tree. Whatever its origin, it started growing in the middle of the temple, directly under the open part of the roof, without any explanation. It started as a tiny sprout, but grew incredibly quickly, with little help from us." He pauses, smiling fondly at the memory. "In any case, it disappeared not too long after that, the area dug up and the magics of the temple disturbed." He crosses his arms, his smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

Stormcaller nods at Kora's mention of necromantic activity, stroking his chin slowly."Your suspicions about necromancers being involved are well-founded, Warden Kora, although I myself cannot understand what such blasphemers would want with our sapling. I could understand them destroying it, but stealing it? It makes no sense. Still, traces of blasphemous necromantic energy were easily detectable afterwards--it may be that the perpetrator used undead creatures to achieve their theft."

"Right now, we of the temple of Melora are cooperating fully with the Moorhollow Militia and the Ravenguard in order to help track down this cabal of necromancers.. But I admit, we are ill-suited for the task. We have made little headway, I am afraid."

As Kora explains her dream, the man's brow furrows with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "It seems that nightmares are a common occurrence in Moorhollow, recently. However, the ones that myself and my acolytes have been experiencing are very much unlike yours. The fact that yours was clearly a blatant attack on your psyche worries me deeply--it seems you may have made yourself an enemy, Warden Kora. I cannot imagine how, since you've been in town for such a short period..." The man begins stroking his chin once more, his bushy brows becoming even more furrowed.

Stormcaller suddenly stops stroking his chin, and looks directly at Kora's face, his brows straightening out."If you'd be willing, Warden, I could attempt to track the source of your tormentor's magic. There is a ritual I could perform, if you were to sleep in the temple tonight, that might let us discern the perpetrator's identity--although it's a risky procedure. There is a chance that it could allow the mage to enter further into your mind, and it would be impossible to dispel the influence until the ritual ended." Stormcaller takes his holy symbol out, running his fingers over it thoughtfully.

[Jarl11]

Kora

"Hmm. It seems that these occurances could be linked. I can make no promises that I can find your sapling, but you have my word that I will do what I can." Her hands had been idly sifting some of the dry earth while they spoke and now she looks skywards, searching for answers, and brushes back a few strands of hair, leaving smudges on her brow. "Maybe they are trying to corrupt or harness the power of the sapling, though for what purpose I cannot fathom." She focuses on the gentle priest in front of her again, a wild look crosses her face like a gust of wind flapping a sail for only a moment. "Let me consult a few others and see what I can learn. If I am back by nightfall, then I mean to take you up on your ritual. However, be the spirits kind or vengeful this day, I will find more during the blessed light of day." Kora pauses for a moment, her voice coming softer and the wind rustling through the windows. "My blood is rising, Priest. The spirits of the earth and elements do not like those that corrupt life and bring unnatural death."

Kora pauses to see if Stormcaller has more to add, then makes her polite fairwells to him and the young Elf, asking directions to the Sherrif's station or main guardhouse. She makes sure she has all of her weapons and gear, then carresses a couple plants on her way out of the temple.

With a brisk pace and watchful eyes, the young woman winds her way through the dusty streets, asking directions with a smile as needed to get to the place that Samuel mentioned at dinner the day before.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald clucks for a moment in thought. He breaks his hastily made circle, and helps the frazzled woman to her feet. "Good new my dear, you are just fine. However, it seems that something is indeed affecting our home. I shall deal with it immediately. However, would you please send one of the children to the home of Adaine [lastname]. He was one of my old pupils, and recently one of my travelling companions. I would appreciate his assistance immediately. Please have the child fetch him."

I couldn't remember Adaine's last name!

[Angel Bob]

"These eggs are fantastic," Adaine grins, washing them down with a sip of tea. "Gods above, I missed your cooking. Forget the undead, that was the real problem with the expedition.

"So, necromancers, you say? Did something go on while I was down below?" He pauses, calling memories to light. "Hang on... just after we were hired by Lady Pharana, a necromancer attacked us in her courtyard. D'you think the incidents might be related?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Gerald
The woman holds onto Gerald's hand, and, with some assistance, stands up out of the chair. Although her legs are shaky at first, she becomes steadier with every passing second. "Thank you, Gerald. I don't know what you just did, but it's like a great weight has been lifted from me. There are strange forces at work in this town, and I shudder to think that they would target an old woman and some young children so readily..." She shakes her head slightly, massaging her temples. "I'll send Ariana to find your pupil straightaway. If you'll need the boy's help for dealing with whatever's happening in this house, then I'll make sure he gets here quick. Arian's a smart girl, and a fast runner to boot; she'll get Adaine here in no time at all." She hobbles out of the room and begins her descent down the stone steps, her footsteps fading softly.

@Kora
Bowing to Kora as she leaves the private room, the elderly Master Stormcaller promises to meet her at the temple tonight, and recommends that she "Bring anyone skilled with magic that she can trust, as it won't be an easy process to perform the ritual." Lhoris sees Kora to the temple's exit, wishing her good luck, good day, good morning and good morrow in quick succession, blushing furiously all the while. Kora winds her way through the streets of Moorhollow, seeing few people out and about. Some merchants stand about, selling various, mundane wares, but a surprisingly small amount of people are actually outside. The people that walk the streets seem to be mostly town militia, vagrants, and particularly daring individuals, like Kora herself.

The only exception is a little blonde-haired girl, dressed in a plain, yet well-kept, dress, who barrels past Kora at high speeds, heading for a residential area of town. She shouts a quick apology to the Warden as she runs by, but otherwise continues on toward her destination without pause.

A few minutes of walking and a few questions directed towards some patrolling militiamen later, Kora locates the local Constabulary. A squat, ugly building made of rough-hewn stone, the building looks more like an ill-made dungeon than a public office. Still, over the large doors hangs a simple sign, reading "Moorhollow Constabulary". Pushing open the door, she is met with a large, square room, filled with metal desks, chairs, and various racks of weapons. A dozen or so officers of the law seem to be present, all dressed in similar, navy-blue uniforms, with sheaths at their belts. A middle-aged Dwarf with a prodigious beard stands closest to the entrance, and as Kora enters, he turns to face her, addressing her over the din of voices in the room. "'Ello there lass. The name's George Ironback, but everyone just calls me "George the Forge". What will you be needin', miss? Is there trouble?" The grey-haired Dwarf, although stout and slightly rotund, is most notable for his arms, which are brawny to the point of almost being grotesque.

@Adaine
Valstan finishes chewing and sets his fork down, his bushy brows furrowing. "They've been keeping pretty uptight about the details to the public, for some reason. The militia and the Ravenguard, I mean. The official statement was that a few Necromancers managed to get a couple of shamblers in the town square, and they were put down before the monsters managed to hurt anybody." Valstan pulls on his beard slightly, a small grin appearing on his face. "However, since I've done ol' Samuel a favor or two in my time, he was willing to give me some information when I got curious. Seems that the Ravenguard had a lot of trouble putting whatever creatures the Necromancer summoned down. They weren't "normal" undead, whatever that means. They leaked black sludge everywhere and generally made a mess of things. Apparently, one of 'em gave Samuel a nasty cut without even touchin' him. Just slashed near his arm and drew blood right through his armor." Valstan shrugs his large shoulders, his mouth set in a frown. "I can't say I understand exactly what that means, though. Maybe it does to you, Adaine?"

His eyes widen slightly at Adaine's question. "That would certainly make sense. You say they attacked right after you met with the vampire woman? Seems mighty suspicious, if you ask me. Perhaps we ought to investigate her a bit more than we've done in the past. Vampires are shady folk, to be sure, but that woman's even more mysterious than most." He pauses for a moment, staring down at his plate in thought. "Although I suppose she wouldn't have turned that Necromancer man in if she was in league with the scum. Strange that he died so quickly after being imprisoned, though. Samuel told me that he just turned up dead in his cell one morning, before anyone could get any good info out of 'im." Valstan seems ready to add an additional point, when he is suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on the door.

A small girl's voice pipes up from the entryway, muffled by the stone door. "Mr. Adaine, are you there? Mr. Moorheime wants you to meet him at his house, and apparently we're inna hurry!"

[Angel Bob]

"Sludge-spewing undead?" Adaine blinks. "Just like the ones in the ruins -- but I'd thought those were a unique aberration!" He frowns. "Telekinetic lacerations are new, though; but that's not a very comforting thought. I suppose I had better go talk to the Ravenguard, see if they'll barter information with me."

As Adaine chews his last forkful of egg yolk and bread, a young girl bursts through the door, breathing hard from a sprint. "...Mmph," Adaine nods in response to her call, then gulps down the food with some tea. "Ahhh. Gerald's summoned me? Perhaps he had the same thought. Unless he's preoccupied with some random other thing." He turns to Valstan and nods. "Thank you for the excellent breakfast, Father; I guess I'm off. Be seeing you!"

Pulling on a cloth jacket and slinging the satchel over his shoulder, Adaine is ready to head off (after just one more sip of tea). "Alright, miss, lead the way. What's Gerald on about, d'you know?"

[Jarl11]

Kora

Looking at the brawny dwarf with a friendly smile, the broad shouldered woman shakes the dust out of her cloak in the doorway, subtly showing the war hammer at her waist. She may be a woman, but she is able to handle herself in danger as well. "Well met, Master Ironback! My name is Kora DeBarriere and I come with a few troubles on my mind. I was at a table with Samuel Mooreheime the other day and offered my assistance in dealing with the recent plague of necromancers." She pauses to brush back a strand of unruly blonde hair and look around the room, taking a slow breath to think of the right words. "He said we could garner some more information showing up here. And let's just say that I have a personal... distaste for those that twist the power of life." Her eyes flash for a second, and then she winks at George in a playful way. "Would you be able to help me?'
Kora will look around and see if she can get a feel for the current status of the Constabulary and George. I.e. are they frantic/seeming weary/ injuries / disorganize or running smoothly... etc
passive perception = 19
passive insight = 14
It may be more appropriate to roll insight, so here is a roll just in case. [roll0]

[Razorstorm]

The young girl leads Adaine into Gerald's home, and leads him up to Geralds quarters. As Adaine walks in, Gerald is looking over a tome. Without looking up, "Thank you for coming, lad. Come." He gestures for Adaine to come look at his book. "I'm going to perform a cleansing ritual on this whole house, and I'm going to need your help. It's not terribly complicated, but it's a big job. Something malicious is attacking my home, causing disturbing dreams for the inhabitants. I think it is after me, but now it's affecting those in my care, and THAT, my friend, means war."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Kora
George seems taken aback with Kora's declaration at first, but nods approvingly once he spots the hammer at her waist. Beckoning her to come further into the building, he walks over to a group of other constables, all of whom are standing around a large, rectangular metal table, which is covered in maps, papers, and various strips of cloth. The burly Dwarf claps Kora on the back, using his other arm to gesture around the table. "Everybody, I'd like ya to meet Kora, one of the people the Sheriff said might be able to help with the case. Please give 'er a hearty welcome, and then let's get to work. Filthy necromancers are still walkin' the streets as we speak." The other constables acknowledge Kora with mixed reactions. Some greet her happily and shake her hand, others merely nod at her, barely paying any attention at all. However, the introductions don't last for very long, as the group of law-officers swing right into an explanation of the current situation.

First an older woman speaks up, her face adorned with a long, nasty scar, running from her forehead to her chin. "We've been keeping most of this info hidden from the public for a reason. The town might go into hysterics if they knew the extent to which this problem has grown." She scowls down at the table, her scar stretching as her expression changes. "However, as you're going to be working with us, you'll need to know some of the more gruesome details. After Lady Pharana, the vampire woman who lives in that fancy house, had one of her .."offspring".. bring that first necromancer here, things got strange around here. First, the guy died before anyone could question him properly, and we couldn't figure out exactly how he did it. Our best guess is that he ended his life with his own black magic." She brushes her hand over some of the scattered papers, handing Kora a rough sketch of a man. His most notable features are his shaved head and forehead tattoo, which has been painstakingly redrawn on the page. As Kora looks at the sketch, another constable speaks up, this one a tall, whipcord-thin Half-Elf. "Right as that one died, his tattoo there glowed with some strange, purplish light. We're not sure what it did exactly, because that wasn't what ended the bastard's life. A local mage we talked to said it was mind magic, but we're clueless aside from that." The tall Half-Elf resumes cleaning his nails with a small dagger, his expression grim.

His brawny arms resting partially on the table, George begins to speak, his expression stony. "The real thing we're keepin' shut up about is the subsequent attacks, though, Kora. Some deaders managed to get into the middle of the town somehow. Horrible creatures, nothin' like the shamblers out in the Wastes. These monsters were twisted, corrupted. Some of 'em had more than five arms, others had mouths on their chests. All of 'em leaked this disgusting black ooze. We collected some of it, but the Ravenguard grabbed the majority of it. Not sure what they're doin' with it..." George cracks his knuckles thoughtfully. "We've been searchin' all over for leads on who might've send the monsters, but our trail's lead us somewhere very precarious for the Constabulary, as the Sheriff would attest to. All our clues seem to lead back to Malec Dustwalker." Realizing that Kora isn't a resident of the town, he quickly follows up with: "Richest man in the town, he is. Managed to find a way to grow small crops properly, and sells 'em at a fair price. Even gives bread away free to Moorhollow's poor. There's no way he'd get mixed up in this Necromancy business." George's eyes don't meet Kora's as he says this, however.


George seemed to be putting a jovial front for Kora at the door and during her introduction to the group. He seems tired and frustrated, but he's hiding it quite well.

Judging by the room's reaction when ora first walked in, it seemed as if she had just interrupted an argument between a handful of constables. They quickly tried to hide it when the door opened, however, and she only heard snatches of the disagreement. Something about "We couldn't search his manor. He's a fine, upstanding citizen.", followed by "Until we find the culprit, everyone's a suspect!"

As a general rule, the constables seems exhausted and stressed out. They clearly know that their only true lead will result in a lot of trouble for everyone involved. In fact, given the way Samuel seemed to be actively seeking out vigilantes, as well as how readily they give Kora information, Kora thinks they might be looking for people who are more willing to do an investigation of their lead than they are. Seems that the Constabulary regards Dustwalker with a strange mixture of pride, respect, and fear.

Finally, Kora is able to glean that the constables are withholding some information regarding the attacks for some reason.

There are quite a few healing injuries held by the various constables, but nothing too serious. The real injuries seem to be beneath the surface, given the many "1,000 yard stares" the various officers are sporting.

[Angel Bob]

"A fell influence? In this home?" Adaine asks, bewildered. "I could have sworn you would be concerned with the recent Necromancer incidents... Anyway, a cleansing ritual, you say? I've read enough books to know the procedure. Lead the way, sir."

As Gerald lays out his equipment and begins, Adaine scans the area with not his senses, but his spirit. Ever since the Confluence, I've developed some sort of connection to lingering spirits, he murmurs to himself. If there's a malevolent presence here, perhaps I can contact it and send it off.

[Razorstorm]

"Indeed, something has attacked this home," Gerald says as he readied his supplies on the table, visibly frustrated, "and I feel like it's my fault. What if these poor children and matron below are innocence bystanders? What if this malignant presence was aimed at me?" He sets down a piece of amber crystal a little too forcefully to be an accident. "Adaine, I gave them this space as a haven, a sanctuary. I have to fix this. Then... then I can deal with these necromancer scum."

He lets out a deep sigh that shows his age. "Here, take this," he says, handing a pouch of salt to Adaine. "You didn't happen to bring any sulphur, did you? Not strictly necessary, but would be helpful..." and he carries on...

The two of them pour a circle of salt around the house, and seal it with a chant of power. After some more traditional ritual preparations, he and Adaine both light a single candle and walks through every room of the house. He prays to the Lightbringer, a prayer of the light dispelling the darkness, while Adaine chants a simple repeating refrain that amplifies their power. Somehow, as they work their way through the house, the small flames emanate more and more light. By the end of their walk through the house, the light is as bright as a lighthouse.

They return to the circle outside the house, and release the final burst of energy from the ritual by breaking the circle, and the candles return to normal in a woosh of energy escaping, like a sigh.

[Angel Bob]

"Your concern for others always impresses me," Adaine nods as the ritual begins. Murmuring his sacred refrain, Adaine reaches out with his spirit, testing the waters for a presence. Come on... There's got to be something here...

A whiff of incense curls into his nostril, and suddenly there is a rushing sensation of clearness as something -- or someone -- makes contact. But it is not the kind of spirit Adaine was expecting... this presence has a calming aura, as if one's soul were lit from within by warm light.

I lend... my... power... to aid... those in need...

What? Who is this? Adaine cries, his head abruptly jerking back. Another vestige?

But the presence is gone as quickly as it came, vanishing into the mists of the mind. Adaine blinks his eyes, briefly stumbles over his words, and then returns to his refrain. Tentatively, he searches again. I know not who or what that presence was... but it wasn't what I was looking for. Anyone else home..?

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Gerald prepares the house to be properly cleansed, a strange chill seems to permeate the air. The faintest scent of flowers, accompanied by a strange, unpleasant smell unknown to anyone in the house, flows throughout the rooms of Gerald's home. In actuality, the house is becoming filled with the scents of a dying forest--rotting wood, putrescent fungi, and sickly-sweet mold. Although the candles the two men hold seem to banish the sensation, the whole house feels uncomfortable and strange for the duration of the ritual.

Adaine begins his search anew, his spirit slowly working its way through the area encompassed by the circle of salt. Finally, in a dark corner, deep in his mind, he finds a new presence. The smells of rot and flowers intensify to a nauseating degree, and Adaine's vision darkens slowly, leaving him staring at a vast expanse of darkness. A single figure, childlike in size, stands in this darkness, only a few meters away. The child is dressed in torn, filthy rags, dotted with brown leaves. Its hair is blonde and equally disheveled, matted with dirt and what would appear to be dried blood. It stays completely still, like a solitary tree in a forest that has long since faded away. A voice enters Adaine's mind.

The trees are thirsty, my child. Your blood may yet awaken them, for the seed has already begun to sprout. Make your choices with caution, for only with her protection may you hope to live.

I am the last scion of Arcadia. The forests will rise once more.

The figure turns around slowly, revealing the most horrific aspects of its appearance. Its rags are burned away at its chest, revealing a gaping wound, right where its heart should be. The rags around the area are stained with dried blood just beyond the blackened edges of the cloth. Its face is covered by an ornate wooden mask, carved with horribly exaggerated features. The expression is fixed in some mixture of grief and anger, the mouth grotesquely large. As Adaine watches, the eyes begin to leak black sludge like tears, which begins to drip onto the being's rags. It raises a clawed hand and points a single finger at him. A searing pain begins directly behind his eyes, intensifying exponentially until he suddenly finds himself on the floor of the house, the presence gone entirely.

A last, childlike giggle echoes through the house as the ritual is completed, leaving Gerald's home safe at last. The Sunblessed Amulet, although strangely silent, grows warm against Gerald's chest.

During Adaine's communication with the spirits, Gerald felt strangely empowered at first, and then suddenly the feeling passed and he could sense a malevolent presence in the house. This unpleasant sensations stopped immediately once the ritual was completed.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Seeing the quiet tension and feeling the fatigue behind the words from the constables, Kora listens intently without interrupting. She handles the sketch given to her gently in her large hands and places it back on the table, directly in front of her in an obvious way to show that she wants to refer to it again.

When George begins speaking again she takes off her pack and sets it against the nearby wall, folding her cloak on top of it. She leans her war hammer against the shield strapped to her pack and turns a penetrating look back to George, whom avoids her eye while talking of Dustwalker. As he finishes speaking, Kora leans her broad shoulders over the table and lets the silence settle for a moment as she arranges her questions in her mind.

With a down-to-business manner, as she feels the constables would be more apt to accept than girly smiles, Kora speaks up clearly with steady eye contact. "I have several questions and perhaps can aid you in more ways than one, if you will have me. My home is in the city of Senitha however, and only recently arriving here leaves me with some basic lack of knowledge with how some things work here that perhaps you can fill." Her hide armor and gear show use on the road, in battle and with some minor repairs. It is not perfectly clean or for show, more for practical use and comfort. She begins her list of questions matter of factly, pausing after each to wait for a reply.

"For starters, who are the Ravenguard and what is their role here?

Next," she taps the picture of the necromancer in front of her, "I may be able to get some more information on the symbol or tattoo that he has. May I have a copy of the symbol for reference? And how exactly did this man die? You mentioned that he passed away... but in what manner? Is the body still held here?

You said attack"s" - plural. How many are we talking about exactly? Three attacks of four creatures, for example...? Were they coordinated? Where did the creatures come from or go after? Were they killed? And what were they attacking?" She stops the barrage of questions, knowing that it was too many at once. "Perhaps you could walk me through the events so I know what you have seen and what I may find myself up against."

And what about your dreams." Kora pauses to let the sudden change in topic sink in and then raises a hand to forestall any answers. Taking in a big breath, Kora reaches out with her spirit to ask and compel the good spirits of the air to bring in a light breeze. Not enough to disrupt the work being done, but enough to let the wild spirits dance for a minute and freshen the stale air in the constabulary. "Last night was a plague of particularly bad and ominous dreams for me. I visited a kind temple this morning and the priest there told me it may have been a failed mind attack of sorts. I have an affinity for the spirits of life and growth but am not too learned in the ways of magic. You may guess then that I have a dislike for all things necromantic - and you would be right. You mentioned that this necromancer may have been a subject of mind magic and I want to know if there are other links. Have any of you had oddly realistic or compulsive dreams of late in a manner very different from normal?

[Angel Bob]

Adaine staggers back, eyes wide. "What in -- what the -- holy dwarven brandy!" he swears. "What was that thing?"

Arcadia, rumbles the voice of Zutwa with a mixture of disgust and sadness.

Adaine pauses. You know of this spirit?

We were… both spirits of nature, Zutwa explains. Arcadia… a verdant forested realm… Adaine feels the sensation of a mighty sigh shuddering through his body. Arcadia fell. As did all the rest.

Elidyr scoffs. You're telling me that twisted thing was the spirit of Arcadia?

The forests died, Zutwa murmurs, but the spirit persisted… in a way. Centuries without its realm… have driven it mad. Now... the spirit seeks to restore its woods… even if if knows not how. Reason… is foreign to its polluted mind.

I see, Adaine muses. But what I don't understand is why this spirit was haunting my mentor's house.

The matter is… confusing indeed. This spirit normally has no cause to enter mortals' minds… nor would it even have that power. Zutwa's voice holds an unfamiliar tone: one of mild confusion, and even a hint of worry. Something… grander... is taking shape.

Adaine takes a moment to process this information. Once that moment is done, he realizes his earlier exclamation was spoken aloud. Oh, boy. How am I going to explain this to Gerald?

[Razorstorm]

Gerald looks at the young man, concerned. "My boy, what is the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

[Angel Bob]

"I... I think I have," Adaine says, breathing slowly. He turns to Gerald, already frowning in contemplation. "The presence haunting this home, it... it appeared to me. It seemed to be a spirit of the long-dead forests. It said something to the effect of resurrecting the forests with my blood..."

Adaine's frown deepens as he remembers something. "Oh. And the spirit was dripping something... a black sludge, just like the black sludge we saw in the ruins beneath."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

@Kora
George speaks up first, while another, younger Dwarf hurries off to retrieve a copy of the symbol. "The Ravenguard is a sort of standing army in service to the Raven Queen. Those who serve the Queen of Winter, whether they be Paladins, Priests, Clerics or some other manner of servitor, may join the organization if they have the combat prowess to handle the training. It's said that the recruitment process can be rather brutal..but I digress." He scratches at his beard, giving a genial smile. His face returns to a more serious expression as he continues his explanation. "The Ravenguard helps to protect Moorhollow from attacks by undead creatures, whether inside or outside the walls. They also take care of our dead, ensuring that the bodies are destroyed before they may rise. They're hard men and woman, Kora. Well-trained and damned good at what they do." He looks around at the group at the group of constables, but none of them seem to have anything to add.

The thin Half-Elf speaks up when Kora asks about the necromancer, his eyes narrowing with distaste at the subject. "Soon after the strange light flared across his head, he lay still, barely breathing. We attempted to gauge what was wrong with him, but we had no desire to incite unneeded risk by spending too much time in the cell with him." The man scowls. "In retrospect, that may have been a mistake. He died within a few hours, and a member of the Ravenguard was already present to eliminate the corpse. You can go to the temple and ask around, but I doubt there will be much left of him. Perhaps the bones, interred in their crypts." The young Dwarf returns, holding a copy of the necromancer's symbol. He hands it to Kora, nods, and then walks off once more.

The scarred woman grimaces as she gives a full account of the attacks from the creatures. Although she seems loathe to admit it, there were indeed multiple attacks within Moorhollow's walls, and neither the town militia nor the Ravenguard have been able to figure out exactly how it happened. She summarizes each attack, stating that each had a similar number of monstrosities, but in very different locations. One not too far from the temple to Melora, another fairly close to Malec Dustwalker's Estate, and the most recent right under the Ravenguard's noses, near their main temple. She continues her explanation by highlighting the similarities between the attacks. In each, the creatures seemed to be wild and uncontrolled at first, but turned deadly and organized as soon as armed opposition showed up. Each attack took place in broad daylight, with no clear origin for the monstrosities that attacked. Finally, strangely, the monsters seemed to want to lead their attackers away from where they were discovered, always closer to the center of town. However, they were always destroyed before they got far.

The woman looks Kora directly in the eye as she finishes her account, her expression unreadable. "Since you seem so willing to help us, I think it right to inform you of a fact we're doing our best to keep hidden for the time being." She traces the scar on her face with a finger, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Those unfortunate souls who are killed by the creatures soon turn into one themselves, rising and changing much more rapidly than expected. Obviously, this news would cause much unrest if it were to escape these walls. Have discretion." She scowls at the other constables, as if searching for those who would criticize her decision to reveal this fact. None speak up, and most keep their eyes downcast.

When Kora speaks of dreams, nearly everyone does a double-take, or shifts uncomfortably. George is the first to speak up. "Now that you mention it, Kora, I think I may have had such dreams. They were dark visions, full of the dying forests of ages past and the smell of decay. I know my wife has been having similar dreams, but I assumed it was just some influence from the town itself. Never thought that dreams could be relevant to a case before... Although I don't know what the connection could be." He glances about with a troubled expression. Several murmur noises of assent. The Half-Elf speaks up as well. "I seem to remember forests as well. Only my dreams were haunted by a little child wearing a mask, its chest torn asunder." He shudders and grows paler for a moment. "Perhaps this bears investigation. Thank you for the warning, Kora. I will speak with my cousin, Elisandre, about the possibility of preventative measures. Perhaps amulets or the like." The constables seem slightly reassured by this notion, but the expressions of stress now mingle with traces of fear, cloaking the room in melancholy.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald sits down and exhales deeply. "That is certainly an odd coincidence, isn't it? So much so that I can't quite believe that it's an coincidence at all. This sludge seems to be appearing all every where we look. I feel like we're about to get a lot more involved in our local necromancer problem, aren't we?" He stands up with a grunt. "Well, at least we solved one problem today." He smiles at Adaine with an energy of renewed vitality. "Shall we proceed with being heroic?"

[Angel Bob]

"Yes... right back to heroics," Adaine nods. "I suppose we should go to the constabulary. Father says there have been some frightening attacks lately. I do hope nobody's been hurt too badly, but I fear that's an absurdly optimistic notion."

[Jarl11]

Kora

Pursing her lips in thought as she listens, Kora looks from face to face as they speak. She thanks the young dwarf for the symbol with a sudden smile and nod, placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. As the scarred woman tells of the fate to these monster's victims, Kora pales slightly in horror as her eyes go wide. She blinks twice while digesting the information and her skin returns to its normal hue, if not a bit more rosy. She nods to the woman in thanks and understanding while setting her jaw. Those studying her would notice that Kora's eyes seem to flash with a wild, angry energy as the conversation goes on.

"Thank you for your honesty everyone", she says at last. Looking around the table at the forlorn faces, Kora feels a surge of energy and the need to try and motivate them. She thumps the table with the palm of her hand, declaring "We are not alone in this, my friends! Take heart. We will see this through, though it is one step at a time. My talents do not lie in fighting alone - I am connected to the spirits around us, of the air, of the earth, and of the very essence of life. With that she smiles and closes her eyes for a brief second and the air seems to breath with her, pulsing in with lively fresh gusts and a crackle or two of energy can be seen at the tips of her hair as they dance in the breeze but never obscure her face. Kora motions with an open hand at the woman with the scarred face and some of that energy seems to leap from one to the other as electricity from a shock without the sting. The energy remains in the air but Kora only smiles as all else returns to calm.Resilience of Life is an at-will for Kora. Instead of attacking anything though, I just want her to simulate the effort and enact the benefit from the spirits. The scarred woman would gain a few (4) temporary hp for a few seconds. Enough to feel the energy and the vibrant life that is offered. Even if, only for a minute.

"There may be even more connections than we previously thought. I just came from the temple of Melora and they are missing a sacred item. Something that may have to do with your dream of forests. They suspect there were necromancer's involved as they located some of that energy. Did anything go missing from the Ravenguard and Mr Dustwalker's estate?"

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

As Kora sends a surge of spirit magic through the room of tired, somewhat demoralized men and women, their faces perk up slightly. George "The Forge" manages a genuine grin, his gap-toothed visage bringing a few other small smiles of encouragement from the others. The scarred woman breathes deeply as Kora's power washes over her, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. For a moment, the tension in her shoulders and face relaxes, making her appear years younger. She breathes out deeply as the motes of light disappear, and her eyes slowly open. Then, the moment passes, and the stress sets in once more. However, she gives a slight bow, accompanied by a soft "Thank you, Warden Kora." The group sets about their work with improved vigor, their weariness temporarily lessened.

The Half-Elf speaks up , his eyes narrowed. "We had heard about the priests of Melora lamenting their lost tree, but most of us saw no connection. A few of us, however.." He looks pointedly at the scarred woman. "..thought the necromancer cabal could be involved with both crimes. Nobody informed us of magical energy being detected, however. That would've been nice to know." He shakes his head, casting his dark eyes upon the ground.

George's previous smirk quickly changes to a frown as he considers Kora's and the Half-Elf's words. Drumming his fingers upon the table, he responds cautiously, with no real surety behind his words. "The Ravenguard did not report anything missing, Warden Kora. However, they're not exactly an open book, them. Wouldn't be surprised if they kept quiet about any thefts to their temple, especially if necromancers could be involved. Could be that's partly what's got them all riled up recently." He shrugs, his brawny shoulders rising like twin mountains. "You might be able to to coax the info out of 'em, but without a contact, it would be probably be difficult." The Dwarf pauses, his drumming fingers moving to shuffle through some documents.

"As for Dustwalker, there is one detail that could be relat-" Suddenly, the Dwarf is interrupted by a swift rap at the door to the Constabulary. George shrugs, his eyebrows raising. "Could be the other people Sheriff Moorheime asked to assist with the case... Kegan, would you let them in?" The younger Dwarf who had brought Kora a copy of a document earlier hurries over the door, pulling it open with a sudden jerk.

Standing in the doorway are two men. One old, and one young. The scarred woman's glare intensifies, and her lip curls slightly. She mutters in a barely audible voice. "I guess the Sheriff wasn't kidding about getting his crazy cousin on the case. This oughta be good." She snorts and turns to face the newcomers, her hand resting lightly upon the mace at her belt.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Focusing on the maps on the table still, Kora registers the young dwarf heading to the door but doesn't turn right away. At the muttering of the scarred woman, she glances up at her with a raised eyebrow and a penetrating look. Does this one think that she is perfect? Instead of making a comment, Kora turns to square up to the newcomers and lets a pleasant, welcoming smile spread across her slightly flushed cheeks.

"Hi gentlemen!" She gushes with unabashed pleasure at seeming them. Striding forward, leaving her pack and cloak by the table, she tries to lightly take them each by the arm and usher them along to the table as she continues to talk "I was hoping to see you again today! There is so much I want to tell you about... and I have many questions, some of which these fine constables were educating me on. Like this symbol here..." She points to the image depicting the necromancer's tattoo. "Know anything about it? And... oh, where are my manners! Gerald, Adaine - these are the constables working with Samuel on the recent attacks." She motions at the others and attempts to remember everyone's name in a full introduction, even placing a hand on George's shoulder to acknowledge that she seems to like this one particularly. She then pauses to breathe and see what comes of the situation she created, hopeful that her support will lighten or at least surprise those that seem skeptical of the two arrivals.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald follows Kora's lead into the room of strangers. He bows his head respectfully to the group following Kora's introductions. "Good day, all. My apologies for showing up uninvited. Hopefully we can be of some help," and even shakes George's hand "Nice to meet you!"

He then settles gingerly into an empty seat and takes a closer look at the symbol, "Now, now, what have we here?"

[Angel Bob]

Adaine shrinks back from the constables, not liking the look the scarred woman gives him. In need of a distraction, he nods to the young dwarf closing the door behind him. "Ah, hallo there... Kegan, was it? I remember you from the Stone Father services in my youth."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

George gives Gerald an appraising look as he approaches the table, before shrugging his impressive shoulders and smiling. He offers a meaty hand to Gerald, applying just enough pressure to his handshake to not crush his fingers. "Welcome aboard, Gerald. I trust that Sheriff Moorheime had good reason to bring you in on this case. This is the sort of case that needs a well-educated man, I suppose." He gives another small smile to Gerald, then turns and looks at Adaine. Noticing that the younger man is speaking with Kegan, he nods his head respectfully and returns to the situation at hand. Eyeing the paper Gerald is looking over, he replies in his grumbling voice, the slightest hint of apprehension in his tone. "Some kind of rune. I can't make heads or tails of it. It'll help if you can figure it out though, Gerald. It has somethin' to do with mind magic, apparently." The brawny Dwarf looks on as Gerald studies the symbol, silently working his jaw back and forth.

Closer to the doorway, Kegan turns and bows to Adaine as he's greeted. His blonde beard, well-trimmed and lacking any real ornamentation, makes it quite clear that he's young for a Dwarf. In fact, Adaine can recall him being only a couple of years older than him, given his memories of the lad without any beard at all. "Hi Adaine. Haven't seen you in a little while, but I've heard you've been getting into some real adventures." He glances over at the group of constables and then back at Adaine again, a small grin on his face. "Is it really true that the Vampire woman sent you into the crypts to find her grandmother, who's trapped underground after a collapse hundreds of years ago?" He asks this quietly, clearly trying to keep what he's talking about away from the others around the table.

With some careful inspection, Gerald is able to figure out a good deal of information from the symbol.

1. The script appears to be Abyssal, which would explain why everyone's having so much trouble understanding it. Few can recognize the language of Demons without some ponderous tome, and fewer still can comprehend it.

2. The symbol itself seems to be related to mentions that Gerald has heard of a powerful demon known as "Orcus", or sometimes as "Tenebrous". Most stories say this Demon Prince perished eons ago, in a failed attempt to usurp the Raven Queen from her position.

3. The purplish glowing that Kora or the constables make mention of calls to mind the glowing the Necromancer originally used to transfer information from one of his undead thralls. Whoever killed him was also able to take any useful information he had learned from him.

4. With particularly careful scrutiny, Gerald thinks that it is highly likely that this tattoo would have made the man particularly dangerous after he rose from the dead. It's probably a good thing they got rid of the body promptly, as he would have retained both his wits and magical ability after death.

[Razorstorm]

"This... this is frightful stuff," Gerald clucked as he inspected the image. "First of all, it's Abyssal, which I can't really read, but I understand the roots and structures. It's somehow connected to an ancient Demon Prince called Tenebrous, or Orcus, depending on which scholar you talk to. He is associated with undeath, and attempted to take over the Raven Queen's mantle. I'm fairly sure that this tatoo would have resulted in the victim rising as a truly dangerous sentient undead. Please... PLEASE tell me that you fully disposed of that body?" He looked around the group worriedly. "Also, from what you described of the situation, the glowling light... I think it's a safe assumption that our enemy knows anything that he knew."

[Angel Bob]

"I can't tell you exactly what we were after," Adaine replies, with a conspiratorial smile, "but it was quite a journey. We found an ancient dwarven crypt buried far beneath the town, and fought some of those monstrous new undead." He pauses. "Say, what do you know about the recent attacks? How much damage have they done?"

[Jarl11]

Kora

"Another link to mind magic and necromancy," she says to no one in particular, her eyes distant. Blinking back to the present, she regards Gerald and gives a curious look to Adaine as he hangs back. Is the boy shy? He must be interested to come here...

"Gerald, there is more you should know. The priest at the temple of Melora thinks I was mentally attacked through a dream last night. Further, they had a very important object stolen. It may have happened during one of the attacks... " Taking a deep breath to gather her excited thoughts, Kora glances around to see who can hear and motions at Adaine to join them with a smile. She then proceeds to tell them about her dream (leaving out any specifics of her friend's identity), followed by her summons to the temple and what the kind old priest told her of her dream and their request for aid. Lastly, she tells them what she has learned from the constables about the attacks, only leaving out the part about rising as one of them if you fall. She pointedly turns with a raised eyebrow at that point and looks at the woman with the scars and the dwarf, inviting them to fill in any blanks.

[Razorstorm]

"Wait... a dream attack?" Gerald looks surprised. "My home was likewise attacked last night, and it affected nearly all of the innocents living there. Adaine and I just finished cleansing the house before coming here. This sounds more and more like a coordinated attack." He creakily rises to his feet. "The signature of the magic seemed bound to Arcadia." He looks out into the distance, tapping his fingers on the table. "How do these things connect? This can't just be coincidence..."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Kegan's smile slowly disappears from his face at Adaine's question. He fingers his beard nervously, pausing for a bit before speaking. "Well... A few people died during the initial strike. Before any constables or Ravenguard members could show up, mostly. One of the ones who didn't make it, I think you knew him. He used to show up to some of the services to Moradin as well, I think." He tugs his beard a little harder, curling the end of it over two fingers. "His name was Jax. Comstock was his clan name--err, surname. Old Delvin said he'd just sent him over to pick up some supplies on the other side of town. Poor kid... The Ravenguard took care of him though, after he... he.. turned, you know?" Kegan, with a visible effort, pulls his face back into a politely impassive expression, straightening his back at the same time. "I wasn't present for the attacks personally, but Cerwyn was." He nods in the general direction of the scarred woman, who's currently eyeing Gerald suspiciously.

As Gerald shares his knowledge of the symbol and the supernatural occurrences that took place in his home, most of the faces around the table grow even warier than before. Even George's genial expression turns dour, and his thick fingers begin to drum on the table nervously. "The Ravenguard took possession of the corpse before anything happened. They tend to be pretty efficient about eliminating potential undead threats.. But this definitely needs to be checked out." He grimaces, looking about the table. "Anyone have a good way of worming our way inside their Mausoleum? We'd have to be pretty persuasive; they don't like people getting in the way of their rites for the dead." He looks at Gerald and Kora hopefully, his fingers still drumming rhythmically on the large table.

The skinny Half-Elf puts a hand on his hip, then adds his own, hesitant, comment. "It seems like a bit of a stretch, but do any of you know a member of the Ravenguard personally? That would probably be the easiest way to talk to the correct people without stepping on any toes." He purses his lips slightly.

At the mention of Arcadia, Gerald is greeted by a whole host of bewildered faces. "Isn't that some kind of city from a an old children's story, Gerald? I know I've heard the name somewhere before." George looks at Gerald bemusedly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

[Razorstorm]

was Gerald thinks for a moment, "You know, funny you should ask. I think one of our companions from our recent expedition might be able to help us. He was already a devoted and empowered servant of the Raven Queen, and he mentioned that he would probably be heading to join the Ravenguard. I think we could certainly check in on him."

[Angel Bob]

"Oh, no."

Adaine steps back for a moment, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. Elidyr and Zutwa are silent as well. Jax and I were never exactly friends, but I still can't...

Adaine pushes past Kegan and to Gerald's side. "We need to go to the Ravenguard. We need to find out who's responsible for this, now. Come on!"

[Jarl11]

Kora

She frowns in thought at the mention of the Ravenguard, yet again. "I am eager to meet these followers of the Raven goddess and see what they can add to this puzzle. I would also like to visit this Dustwalker after." Folding up the image of the symbol, Kora slides it into a pouch at her waste and moves to the side of the room where her gear sits. Hearing Adaine speaking up, she quickly throws her cloak around her broad shoulders and hefts the rest of her items into the proper place. "Shall we check on this friend of yours?"

Turning to George before they leave, she grasps his arm firmly. "Thank you. I will see what else we can discover. If you learn of anything or there is an attack, please send a runner to contact us."

[Razorstorm]

Gerald rises to his feet with a groan. "Indeed. Let's go!" He nods and smiles to the assembled group, "Pleasure meeting all of you. We'll share with you what we find."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

George nods at Gerald, thumping his fist lightly on the table. "Sounds like a plan then, Gerald. Keep us informed about whatever you find in there. It may be that we can put the pieces together later on, assuming you find any useful information." As Kora grasps his arm, he grasps hers in return, then shakes up and down heartily, grinning broadly all the while. "I know we can count on you, lass. Do be careful with Dustwalker though; he's good folk, overall." The brawny Dwarf glances at Adaine, but says nothing, then lumbers over to the other side of the large room and begins speaking with a few constables sitting at desks.

The scarred woman offers her hand to Kora and even gives a slight bow, but her mouth remains thin and tight, and her words terse. "Make you sure you keep these two in line, Warden Kora." Her eyes settle on Adaine briefly, a flash of recognition passing over her face. She opens her mouth to speak, pauses, closes her mouth, and frowns. Turning abruptly on he heel, she stalks off into an adjoining room, closing the door behind her. This thin Half-Elf turns a sharp gaze in her general direction as she walks off, shaking his head.

Then, he turns toward the departing group of three, forcing a smile onto his face. "Well, it's delightfully serendipitous that the three of you happen to know a member. That should help you quite a bit, especially if you need to circumvent some of their customs.." He frowns and taps his foot on the floor a few times. "I trust the three of you will be up to the task. My name is Castien, and it was pleasant to formally meet the three of you." He gives a strange smile, then presses the first two fingers of his hand to his lips in a traditional gesture of respect. His eyes twinkling, he follows this up with a slight bow, then strides swiftly to the door that the woman had just closed.

Outside of the Constabulary, it is somewhat cold, and the first drops of bitter, ashy rain have begun to fall. The streets stand almost empty, and the natural acoustics of the stone buildings around the group make their footsteps upon the cobble road echo ominously.

Once Adaine got a better look at the scarred woman who was standing at the table, he realized that she was some relative of Jax's, although whether she was an aunt, a cousin, or something else is unknown to him. They share a certain likeness, if not a shred of personality, and Adaine can vaguely remember seeing the two of them together sometimes when he was younger.

[Jarl11]

Kora grips the scarred woman's hand firmly and gives a small smile in response to her show of respect, returning it with a nod. "I'll do my best. It was nice to meet you and I hope we can be of help."

She returns the gesture to the half-elf, wondering at the strange looks that cross his visage. Insight check [roll0]
Edit: Ha!
Outside the Constabulary, Kora adjusts the pack on her broad shoulders and starts walking with the others. She is quite obviously wanting to hurry and intentionally slows her self down to keep pace with her new colleagues."Sorry, if I seem like I'm rushing," she blushes, "I'm eager to find this young sapling that they mentioned at the temple. Growing plants are so rare and special now..." She trails off in thought for a moment before changing the subject. "You said that there was a dream attack on your home, Gerald - do you think it was directed at you? And you, Adaine, did you have a simiar experience too?"

[Razorstorm]

Gerald nods. "I can't imagine why someone would attack the innocents in my home, and I find it more than a little suspicious that several of us had bizarre dreams. That can't be coincidental."

[Angel Bob]

"I... I didn't have any dreams, no. Not last night." Adaine decides to leave out his experience during the exorcism. "...Thank you for your help, everyone. Nice seeing you, Kegan." With that, he turns and heads out the door.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The walk over to the Ravenguard's main temple is a fairly lengthy one, and the bitter, freezing rain that falls serves only to make it seem longer still. A cold wind blows over the town from the North, bringing an ashy, deathly scent with it as always. With every step the group takes, it seems as if the air is getting a tiny bit colder; Winter is fast approaching, it would seem. Consequently, the streets are nearly empty through the group's walk over to the Ravenguard, making it seem as if they are walking amidst the ruins of a once-populous city.

This feeling is not lessened by the somber, silent atmosphere that surrounds the Ravenguard's main temple. The temple is one of the largest buildings in Moorhollow, its blackened spires jutting harshly into the sky. Following the length of its many spires downward, the building is found to be sturdy, yet also intricately carved, featuring the immaculate carving and craftsmanship of the Dwarves. Countless decorative features adorn the towers and walls of the temple, often featuring ravens and cowled women, seeming to peer pensively into the air ahead of them. Thin walkways just between some of the higher walkways, with only a low railing of stone for support. As always, dozens of ravens flock to various windows and ledges, many of them bearing letters bound to their legs.

As the three adventurers travel down the cobblestone road, they find themselves passing the temple's cemetery. A wrought-iron fence, adorned with depictions of ravens and feathers in its bars, separates them from neat lines of headstones that fill its grounds. The cemetery is the largest in Moorhollow, excepting the mausoleums found in the ruins below, holding hundreds of graves, filled with the cremated and blessed remains of countless people. Through the bars, the group can barely make out a small group of priests standing around a newly-dug grave, their heads bowed in prayer. On the ground in front of them lies an ornately-carved stone box, crafted from white marble. As the priests continue to pray, the box almost seems to glow a silvery color from within, giving it a strange luminescence that is all-the-more visible in the rainstorm.

Before long, Adaine, Gerald, and Kora find themselves before a grand set of stone doors, marked with a gigantic symbol of the Raven Queen. A silver knocker sits on each door, shaped in the likeness of a raven. Two members of the Ravenguard stand flanking the entrance, their heads bowed and covered by simple, black helms. Both are fully armored in unadorned platemail of a dark gray hue, although they both wear cloaks around their necks, bearing the symbol of the Raven Queen. The two of them are of a height, yet, as they raise their heads, it becomes clear that the resemblance stops there. The woman on the left is decidedly plain, her grey eyes scanning the party without a hint of emotion. The man on the right is markedly more attractive than his companion, yet his face remains just as impassive, his pale blue eyes staring at each of the group in turn. Neither of them speak a word, nor do their hands move anywhere near the greatswords they carry across their backs.

As residents of Moorhollow, Adaine and Gerald would know that guard stand vigilant at the doors of the temple to keep an eye out for defilers and potential necromantic magicians. They very rarely need to apprehend anyone, but when they do, they use deadly force.

They would also know that most business is conducted inside of these doors, as it is one of the few areas that normal civilians are allowed to access on a regular basis. Most people are also allowed to visit the cathedral inside, as well as the cemetery--provided they are accompanied by an armed member of the Ravenguard. The Mausoleum within, where they bury those who wish to be interred within the temple, is almost always off-limits to civilians, as it is possible to access the rooms used for preparing the dead for burial through there.

For the slightest second, the woman's nostrils flare and her eyes settle on Adaine's with suspicion. However, the moment soon passes and she continues scanning the rest of the group, her features returning to absolute rigidity.

As she looks through the bars between the path and the cemetery, Kora notices that there are intermittent patches of scraggly grass and other small plants scattered throughout the cemetery grounds. In addition, she can feel the presence of primal spirits, lurking subtly in the background. Strangely, this would appear to a location that is naturally sacred to one or more spirits. Some spirit of winter or death is most likely, given the location.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald smiles and nods politely and deferentially to the guard on the right, and then reaches out to the silver knocker on the door in front of him and raps it solidly. The sound echoes solemnly in the drizzly gloom. He then steps back from the door, clasps his hand in front of him, giving a look to the others to imply they should do same, and waits.

[Jarl11]

Kora

As the discussion fades off and they travel in silence, she walks along lost in thought for a moment. Rounding the next building, the cool breeze hits them and brings her back to the present. Instead of wrapping up warmly, the large blonde woman smiles and lets her cloak flap in the wind, enjoying the sensation of the dancing air breathing fresh life. Even though winter is cold and can be dreary, it's another season in the circle of life that the spirits dance out for the world and her races. She begins to hum softly, a childhood melody of which, if sang, is about a young boy stealing pies to give to a girl he fancies. Kora enjoys the walk and verily skips along.

Not overly impressed by the large temple, she muses reminds me of Senitha actually... but this graveyard!. She stops for a moment by the gated area, feeling the pull of wild spirits on the other side and seeing plants she wants to tend to. With a small sigh, she brushes her hair back over her shoulders and steps quick to catch up with the others.

Kora calmly climbs the steps to the temple, studying the building and eyeing the ravens before standing easy (where the birds can't drop anything on her) with her muscular arms folded across her chest. She smiles politely at the woman as Gerald steps up to the door and then smiles, maybe a little bit bigger, at the man on the right. "Hello there. Do you get bored just standing here all day?" she asks earnestly.

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

The blue-eyed man shifts his impassive gaze to Kora, his expression unreadable. His eyes meet hers for a few moments, and Kora can almost feel his eyes pierce through her thoughts, blatantly and unerringly searching for falsehood. Then, without a word, both he and the woman nod their heads deeply, their eyes closing momentarily. They both stand up straight once more, before stepping off to the sides, leaving the door unguarded. A gust of wind sends chilly rain flying at the group, tendrils of icy water dripping down their faces and clothing. However, the two guards remain impassive, allowing the rain to splash against them without any reaction. They stand still, like statues--or perhaps, more aptly, like the dead--as Gerald reaches for the silver knocker.

Gerald's hand brings the knocker against the stone door with a solid clang, which echoes strangely from within the building, taking slightly too long to fade from the air than it rightly should. The sound eventually gives way to silence, with only the rain providing noise of any kind. A minute passes as the group stands in absolute silence, waiting patiently before the doors of the temple. Then, without any warning, both of the doors swing inwards simultaneously, revealing the inside of the structure.

The room before the group is a large pentagram, entirely crafted from black stone. Upon the floor, the symbol of the Raven Queen is painted in a bright white hue, contrasting sharply with the darkness of the rest of the chamber. Several archways lie on the other walls of the rooms, each identical to all of the others. As the party steps forward, the doors silently swing shut behind them, leaving the room in relative darkness. As their eyes adjust to the darkness, the party realizes that the only light to be found comes from flickering braziers set in grooves in the walls, each burning with silver flame. Aside from the braziers, the room is strangely devoid of just about anything. No decorations adorn the walls, no music fills the air, and the only detectable scent is the faintest smell of burned incense.

This lack of decoration only serves to draw attention to the young man standing in the center of the room. Tall and broad-shouldered, the dark-haired man holds himself high. His chainmail armor, colored a lusterless black, bears the crest of the Raven Queen upon the chest, accompanied by a silver holy symbol hanging from his neck. A battleaxe is belted to his side, its blade glinting wickedly in the silvery light. The man takes a few steps forward, letting his face enter a flickering patch of brightness. Then, his eyes widening in surprise, Brandis Shieldheart begins to speak, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Hail, friends. It has been some time since we have seen one another. I trust you have been well. Winter Queen's blessings upon you all, including you, stranger." He nods at Kora, then presses the first two fingers of his hand to his lips in a gesture of respect. He uncrosses his arms, then strides forward to a more casual distance from the group. "As you can see, the Ravenguard welcomed me with open arms. My devotion was all that was truly needed to pass the trials, they said. They did not find me lacking in that regard." The slightest hint of a smile passes across Brandis' face. "Now, my friends, what is it you require? As the Speaker of the temple for the day, I can explain a variety of memorial services which you can choose from. We are quite busy at the moment, but if your friend here requires a service of some sort, it should not be a problem." He casts his eyes about the group, meeting each of their faces with a stony expression. When he finishes scanning, he frowns slightly. "Is Balaern still in good health? I notice he is not currently with you. He's a good man, even if the Elves don't much like him." The young cleric falls silent, awaiting a response.

[Razorstorm]

Gerald smiles warmly and steps forward shaking Brandis' hand firmly with both of his. "It's good to see you, Brandis. We are well, thank you, as is Balearn, as far as we know. He's headed his own way, as you have. I'm so glad to hear that you this is going well for you. Here, I'd like to introduce you to our new companion, Kora." He steps aside to let the two of them meet properly. He then steps back in closely, and speaks to Brandis in an intense whisper, "My friend, we need your help. We are helping to investigate the recent attacks that are plaguing the city. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. There is a body that your Ravensguard took possession of. He would have been missing a significant chunk of skin. It had a tatoo on it, which I have studied. I believe there is a great risk that his corpse will rise again. Do you know the body I am speaking of?"

[Jarl11]

Kora

A bit surprised by the seriousness and coldness of the guards, the young woman follows her companions inside the temple where she looks about with wide eyes. Wow, it's so sharp and clean... and as devoid of emotion as the guards.

She straightens her own black cloak with rough, strong hands and studies the figure before her with open surprise that the others know him. I'll bet that ax has been used a couple times. He knows the others - that is excellent! Maybe he will help us! The God of Death is no friend to those who consort with undeath. She mimics the symbol of respect, her first two fingers to her lips, and offers a warms smile with a slight blush of excitement, in hopes that they can step even closer to their goal with his aid. "Greetings, Brandis. May your fate be a proud one with a noble end! Not sure if that's the proper greeting here," she quickly adds with a grins, brushing her blonde hair back over her ears, "but it was one that I was led to believe is appropriate to friends of the Queen of Winter. We few wardens share your revulsion of the plague in this land called undeath." She stands back a bit to let the others speak with their friend.

[Angel Bob]

Adaine nods in vigorous agreement with Gerald's query. "Please, Brandis, if there is anything you know, or can find out... One of the victims grew up with me. We need to get to the bottom of this, for his sake."

[LimeSkeleton]

DM Post

Brandis remains completely still, listening intently to everything the group has to say. The only movement visible is the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and eventually the tiniest nod in Kora's direction as she introduces herself. Once all have finished their piece, he tilts his head up slightly, then meets eyes with each of the group in turn, seeming to search for something in their expressions. After a few moments of this, his countenance become yet more intense, and he begins speaking with the sort of quiet intensity that Gerald and Adaine had become accustomed to. "It is both heartening and disheartening to hear you will be involved with this disturbing investigation. The knowledge and ability of each of you will no doubt prove incredibly useful, but the danger to which you will be exposed will be tantamount to exploring the depths of the ruins once more." He pauses for a long moment, his face stony with complete concentration.

Brandis maintains the long, vaguely unnerving silence for a time, seeming to take his time to carefully order his thoughts. Then he looks directly at Gerald, his expression intense once more. "I believe I know which body you're referring to. The one of the Necromancer, who ended his own life while imprisoned somehow? As far as I know, the corpse was quickly purified and destroyed, and the ashes were disposed of after a second purification. However, if you feel strongly about the possibility of some foul, necromantic magic allowing this abomination to walk free, Gerald, then I trust your intuition. You need not make further argument, especially with the strange goings-on here, as of late." The man's mouth thins, curving into a slight frown.

He uncrosses his arms, and faces Kora, the frown fading from his features. "May her wings guide you to your final rest when the time has come, Warden." He pauses slightly, then gives a deeper bow in her direction, one far more respectful than the slight inclination of his head that he had given earlier.

Finally, he turns to Adaine, his expression softening significantly. "Adaine, I hope my words will give you some modicum of comfort. All victims of the attack were given proper services, so that their bodies might rest and their souls might move on to the Winter Queen's realm. Their time here may be over, but they have found true peace in death." Brandis finishes his small speech by pressing the first two fingers of his hand to his lips. After pausing for another few seconds, he takes a step back, looking at the group as a whole. With a slight nod, he turns and begins walking down the corridor to his left, motioning for the others to follow him along.

However, he stops suddenly when he hears the screaming from outside the temple.

Makaria

Although she hadn't been in Moorhollow long, Makaria quickly learned that some parts of the town were much more accepting of her strange appearance than others. The shops and eateries, for example, often harbored individuals who refused her service, or demanded exorbitant prices compared to what they normally charged. The nobles, especially the Dwarves, did not seem to care for her overmuch either, sending bodyguards and other armed men to force her to keep her distant from the more beautiful parts of the ancient town.

However, the quieter, less-inhabited areas of Moorhollow proved much more tolerant of her presence. The temple of Bahamut, for example, offered to tend to her injuries free of charge-- a far cry from the sort of "survival of the fittest" mantra she had been accustomed to in her monastery. Additionally, after hearing of her encounter with undead outside the walls, Makaria was offered a cot in a temple to the Raven Queen. The priest in charge of the temple, Sindrei Forscythe, even gave her some comfortable clothing without charging even a copper.

For this reason, Makaria often found herself in the part of town closest to the grand temple of the Ravenguard. Huge and imposing, with Gothic architecture and stern guards, the building attracted relatively few visitors. Thankfully, this meant that the young Tiefling woman could often find some time to herself around the temple, to meditate, pray, or just relax. Today, despite the bitter rain that had been coming down steadily for the past few hours, Makaria finds herself before the temple once more.

However, something seems off about the temple today. For Makaria, it only takes a few moments to realize the main difference: The front door, guarded every hour of the day and night by a pair of armed Ravneguard members, is completely unprotected. The guards are not within Makaria's sight, and would seem to have entirely abandoned their post. In the cemetery next to the temple, a small service seems to be in session. Four priests of the Ravne Queen, garbed in simple robes of dark gray, stand around a newly-dug grave, their heads bowed in prayer. A low murmuring can be heard from them, bidding the soul of the departed to pass on peacefully to the next life.

Makaria does not have much time to dwell on the absence of the guards before something much more disturbing occurs. Suddenly, the earth in the cemetery begins to shift and crack, as if it were being pushed from below. The scraggly grasses growing atop the wet earth are uprooted as the soil is disturbed, collapsing into small gaps in the ground and then being pushed out once more. Within a few seconds, a single, rotted hand, bearing a multitude of claws on its fingers, bursts from the earth. Then, a split-second later, five undead abominations spring from the ground, their hideous forms covered in gray mud. One of the priests screams in surprise, giving the others enough warning to turn and watch as one of the creatures impales him through the stomach and tosses him effortlessly against the wrought-iron fence.

The creatures are all alike in their disturbing forms, but each is unique in its exact appearance. Their bodies are roughly humanoid, and clearly once belonged to living humans or half-elves. However, their skin has been sloughed off, revealing the muscle and sinew below, as well as flashes of white bone. Most have long, sharp claws on their fingers and toes, and two of them boast bony spines jutting from their backbone. They all possess at least one two many limbs, some of which are stunted and deformed, or otherwise imperfectly formed. However, each and every one of the abominations leaks a black sludge from its eyes and mouth, as well as from gaping wounds in its own body.

With a savage, ear-piercing shriek, the abominations attack the priests in earnest, their limbs and mouths moving with supernatural quickness.

[Arkhosia]

Makaria

Makaria charges at the undead, yelling I will send you into the deepest pits of the abyss for that, the defiler of the dead!

She vows, drawing her trusty greatsword with the efficiency and speed only acquired by practice as she charges to the scene!

[Razorstorm]

Gerald freezes and looks at Brandis in confused alarm. "What's going on?" he says, as his old feet are already carrying him out the door to see.

[Jarl11]

Kora

Pleased with Brandis' acceptance of them, the plain faced blonde woman finds herself grinning. Kora takes a step to follow the cleric down the hall but stops abruptly as the screams echo off the walls. All girlishness vanishes behind a feral light that springs to her eyes as she turns back to face the entrance. "That comes from outside." The stocky blonde woman follows Gerald's lead, quickly stepping to open one of the large doors.

As her training dictates, her left arm slides her shield firmly to the forearm and her senses expand around her, feeling the wild spirits and the life energy flowing between everyone in the entrance way. The primal energy of the air around her seems to spring into action, her cloak and hair flowing back just enough to remove any hindrance from her actions while her right hand secures the shield straps.