The elf's brow furrows, turning his head in the direction Gil indicates, but hears nothing. Thus alerted, he raises his weapon in preparation.
"I hear it too" Nevharath says, summoning forth a masterwork heavy flail from another place in time and space.
perception
Rod whispers; "I hear it too....."
"Kadesh- see who is out there!" The raven takes flight noisily flapping its way up and through the graveyard.
Gelb takes a step back to hide among the weeds and lets the heroes be heroes. However, he does prudently draw his short sword.
"I can still see you, Gelb. Contribute. Or else," Janosz hisses at the changeling while he unlimber his bow.
The noise sounds like it is parallel to this path. There is a shout - a woman yelling "Stop!" - and a few seconds later the hiss of spellfire followed by a muffled cry of pain. It then goes quiet.
Kadesh flutters down. "Boss! Some crazy lady just blasted some guy who was running away! I think he's dead." The crow's dark eyes glitter. "Just over there - I suppose you want to have a look," he adds with a hint of resignation.
"But of course," Janosz grins at the raven. "Get back up there and keep an eye on her. Start honking your beak off if she does anything suspicious."
"Also, so that we don't get the same treatment... HELLO! MISS SOTHARR?! WE WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK WITH YOU!!"
"Hey, I wasn't talking to you, ugly! I only do what the boss says." The crow fluffs its feathers in irritation and makes not move to take off. There is no reply from where the noise has now faded.
Diplo:
"Greetings! I'm Rodergo Xativa, a humble Servant of the Flame. I seek audience with Warden Sotharr; would that be you, madam?
If not, well then, forgive the interruption, milady......"
Ezreal smirks at Kadesh's back talk obviously amused. "We need your eyes Kadesh. Circle her for a minute. Caww if it looks like she or anyone else is moving in to attack. Which way is the body? Let us see who she attacked. Considering where we are she may have issues with dead things walking. "
Just practicing....
"See? As usual, the boss agrees with me. Now, if y'all would follow me, we'll go check out what's going on in the brush..." Janosz packs away his bow and unsheathes his kukri. "In case we get stuck. Too bad Rolund ain't here to just plow through the damned nettles." He heads into the brambles.
Gelb follows the group silently, a little nervous with sword in hand.
Gil stops for a moment to draw her punching dagger, putting her alongside or slightly behind Gelb. She keeps an eye on him and the area alongside the path.
Nevharath keeps his eyes peeled as well.
Heading in the direction of the noise, they travel a short distance to find a man sprawled face down and unmoving between a couple of graves. He is dressed in drab clothes with a hooded cloak, a pouch of what looks like spell components is at his belt, and a large leather satchel lies by his side.
"Wazzup?" Janosz waves at the poorly hidden archer. "You wouldn't happen to be Gaia Sotharr, wouldya?"
She stands up slowly to show herself. Her bow remains nocked and she points in Ezreal's general direction. She looks about thirty years old, tall and gawky with a raw-boned face pinched in a suspicious look. "Who are you?" she asks gruffly.
"We're known as Rodergo's Reavers. This here is the man himself, Rodergo Xativa." Janosz gestures towards Rod as he sheathes his knife. "We urgently need to talk to the Warden of the Dragon Crypts, Gaia Sotharr. If it is not you, could you perhaps take us to her?"
"What do you want to talk to her about?"
"I am Rodergo Xativa. I am a humble servant of the flame.
I seek Warden Sotharr; for we seek knowledge of that creature Gath, and her counsel would be the most useful available.
We must.....meet with the lich. And, if so, her counsel may very well give us the best hope of survival.
Also,....I must admit to a certain curiosity; I've heard of Warden Sotharr, and am intrigued by one who would serve as Overseer of all this. I must admit, to a certain joy that I now have a legitimate excuse to seek her. She is an enigma to me.
Please, forgive my uncomfortable forthrightness, but,....well, if we have to quest for this lich, well.....this might actually make such a horrid undertaking worth it."
diplomacy
Noting the arrow trained on him Ezreal looks down at his grayish skin and laughs, "Ahh- No. Sorry for the confusion. I am not dead. I have temporarily enhanced my form to make it less fragile."
"Father Xativa? I have heard of you." The woman lowers her bow. "I am Gaia Sotharr. What do you want of Gath?"
Gil moves over to the man sprawled on the ground, nudging the satchel with her toe, but she makes no effort to pick up the satchel. She's curious, but she doesn't want to further distract from the conversation at this point.
"He quite possibly has a certain shard we seek. It's a very long story; I'd tell it, though, if it might gain us some useful information."
I'll start elucidating the whole long thing.....
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"There was a creation forge in the Mournland. Within it were some khyber shards. They contained some outsiders; one of them was Goshasanan. He was a kalashtar/quori philosopher, specialized in preventing or subverting the cyclical nature of Dal Quor. Some of the shards were used to.....imprint on certain warforged that we have been running afoul of or had dealings with for the last few months. Brother Lightbringer, a warforged paladin of the Flame and my friend, is prisoner.....or worse,....of the very Lord of Blades as we speak as a result of this quest we've undertaken. And we've all left half our psyche in the Mournlands, it......feels that way anyhow. You'd....have to see the place.....
We fear there may be a scheme to subvert Dal Qour's typical apocalypse and escape to this world en masse....it has happened before in the history of the world. We've lost much in this quest, but we must see it through, for a grave danger exists.
We've found that these shards ended up fenced in Sharn; we've traced one of them possibly to the lich Gath. We must gain it back from him, at all cost.
That is why I and my small but mighty band seek this lich.
If you can tell us anything to help us, I would be eternally in your debt."
Gaia blinks in surprise as Rodergo relates his tale. There are parts where she doesn't seem to understand what he is saying, but once he finishes she says, "You should come with me to the tower." She turns before beckoning the adventurers to follow.
Gil nods and mutters to herself, "Blasted grave robbers, even the dead can't escape the thieves."
Janosz grabs the dead guy and slings him across his shoulder before following the Flame priestess. "Graverobber or necromancer? Maybe he has some identification. We can look him up after this damned shard-quest is over."
Gil considers for a moment before retrieving the man's dropped items and bringing them for the priestess.
"Thankyou, Warden."
We'll follow her.
Gaia moves swiftly through the graveyard, following trails that head quickly for the tower at its centre. Closer to, the Warden Tower looks almost as dilapidated as the rest of the monuments here. The fitted blocks of white stone sprout small shrubs at several levels and against its base leans a wooden cabin. As they round the corner, they can see smoke rising from the chimney of the shack, a few shabby archery butts and a washing line with a few items of clothing hanging from it.
"Leave the body here," instructs the warden, nodding to a patch of earth scorched from previous bonfires. "I'll get some wood later and burn it." She heads for the door of the hut.
Inside it is dark, with bundles of dried herbs hanging from the rafters. There is a single room with a bed, a washstand, a table and a few chairs. The far wall is the stone of the tower wall, and doorway leading into the tower itself. She heads straight through.
Inside, the tower is mostly comprised of a single tall circular room, a chapel to the Silver Flame. In the centre burns the eternal flame and arranged around it are circular pews. The walls are decorated with frescoes of saints of the Church destroying undead, mostly faded and falling away in places. A staircase spirals up the interior wall, heading up towards the roof. The air is heavy with neglect and dusty cobwebs.
Gaia genuflects to the flame before indicating that the adventurers should sit. "Father Xativa, I would like to welcome you to the Warden Tower. It is an honour to have a crusader of your vigour and holiness in this place. I have few visitors. Please ask me your questions, but before that I would be grateful if you would speak a few words of blessing."
Once in the chapel, Gelb sheathes his sword but keeps his hand on it to draw it quickly.
He yawns and feigns sleep when "Father Xativa" says his blessings.
Huh. I think he might have the right idea.
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"I'll try my best."
He proceeds somberly to the alter.
"It's the dawn of that bad day,
and a volcano's erupting,
and a demon lord's corrupting,
and coming forth,......
but they don't know Tira's coming.
It's a bad day....
the sky is filled with smoke,
and the people cough and choke,
and run in fear,
because they don't know Tira's coming.
It's a bad day....
they ride forth from Khyber's vault,
and the slaughter seems without halt,
and all of Thrane is crying
because they don't know Tira's coming!
It's a bad day....
but the feathered serpent is showing the way,
and come what may,
Tira's coming!
It's a bad day,
but the host of Thrane is rising up,
behind the banner of Tira
and the demons are on the run
Tira's coming.
It's a bad day,
but they're driven back to the black mountain,
and the silver flame springs up like a fountain,
and the bad days are over,
Because, Tira's here.
And she will be here in the flame forever!
And so be it in this place as well....
"What can you tell us about Gath? I know a little;....I understand he's not exactly that zealous about spreading his ideals, or trying to consolidate a power base.
He is undead though; maybe his timetable stretches centuries. Maybe the immediate decades are a long restful weekend......
have you had any contact with him? Do we have any hope of besting him on the field of battle? I'm hoping that we can get what we need through negotiations; am I just,....grasping at straws here?"
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Gaia blinks in surprise at Rodergo's poetic offering. "I had heard you were unorthodox, but..."