Navith lends a hand. He proves...somewhat helpful, if not exactly adept.
The team pulls together and spends the next five hours first searching, then arranging, and lastly positioning each of the large stones together atop the cracked base in a relatively correct semblance of the original memorial. There are a few small chunks and shards which were too small or too badly damaged to be able to replace, leaving tiny gaps, cracks, and hollows here and there but overall the wooden framed, rope wrapped, and lever propped structure again appears like an upturned sword in a mailed fist.
The sun is slowly beginning to set as you find yourselves ready to use the scrolls to hopefully restore the stone and consecrate it's magics to the forces of good once more.
Zokama hopes that the divine casters in the group can accomplish this task, since she hasn't any skill in that area.
Toruk takes the scroll with Stone Shape and hands the Consecrate scroll to Navith. "We must cleanse this site of evil. Shall we begin?"
When Navith is ready, Toruk begins reading the scroll as he reshapes the stone.
Fil stands, proud of the work that has been done, if only hastily. He still watches warily for signs of Hruggin and Toruko.
Navith notices movement at the edge of his peripheral vision, and alerts the rest of the party.
"We must hurry! More walking dead approach!
Galvanised by the impending threat the Pelorite manages to steel himself enough to focus on the scroll.
As Navith and Toruk finish their incantations the stone of the memorial smooths and shifts, the surface hiding any mars or damage with a soft glow of pale white light. A soft wind, smelling faintly of roses and lilacs begins to spiral around the monument and spreading outwards, almost caressing the grasses and mounds with it's passing. You feel a great wash of confidence and calm spread over each of you, beginning at your extremities and slowly spreading deeper, reaching into the core of your beings. Wounds, aches, and pains seem to fade away, refreshing you like a long and deep sleep.
As the breeze comes into contact with the fallen dead the bodies dissolve with a slight silvery glow, becoming larger gusts, spreading the chaste airs further outwards, growing wider, stronger, and faster as it goes, a torrent of cleansing purity.
In the distance, the undead react to this strangeness, beginning to rush towards you, only to encounter the edge of the growing vortex of magic released by the memorial. They too are dissolved by the gusts, only in more harsh glows and stronger bursts of energy.
By the time the last of them fades into ashes lost to the aether the spiraling breeze is a rushing gust, washing out and away from the memorial in all directions, consecrating the dead and sending their remains back to rest under the watchful gaze of Wee Jas.
After a time you hear the winds fading away, leaving the meadow in a calm, quiet peace, reminiscent of the vestibules pre-dawn. The wind has worn away the dead, restored the grasses and mounds to their pre-disturbed conditions, only the odd scattered weapon or bit of armor remaining to mark the events which previously occurred.
You look to each other in weariness, and relief. For now the undead are at rest, the meadow is secure, and as you consider the day you find within yourselves a depth of strength and conviction you doubt you could have imagined but a few days ago.
It will take the remainder of the day to return to Hommlet, so you should arrive just after the dinner rush at the Welcome Wench.
Is there anything you wish to do here at the memorial, or in the surrounding fields before you return to Hommlet.
Xaod, having experienced much the same effects as yourselves, approaches Navith, spiked gauntlet removed. The others informed me the wagon is yours. Turuko and his actions have cost me my horse, so if it is no trouble, I ask that I might ride back aboard your cart? I am willing to pay if you require it.
Zokama wants to collect fallen gear so they can sell it. (It might seem desperate or greedy, but she is poor and needs the cash just to afford room and board.)
She also keeps an eye out for any other purple stones, keeping detect magic up as she searches the field for gear.
Toruk silently contemplates the day's events on the ride back to Hommlet. "My friends, I must find a quiet place to meditate tonight and commune with Fharlanghn. Never in my travels have I seen so many walking dead or such unspeakable desecration. I am troubled by what these events must portend. I must cleanse my soul of these memories."
Almost as an after thought he hands the intricate scroll case to Zokama. "Perhaps you can figure this out Zokama. I have little patience for such mechanisms."
Zokama takes the scroll case puzzle and examines it to see if she can figure it out.
Turning the scroll tube slowly, listening intently to the clicking of the ivory, stopping and gauging moments of slight hesitation, after about 12 minutes Zokama aligns the intricate whorls and rings into what appears to be a flowing river bouncing along a series of three balls. At that moment the cap on each end comes free, allowing them to be removed and exposing two scrolls and a sheet of faintly scented vellum.
The two scrolls are marked with arcane symbols and script, while the small sheet of lamb skin is covered in a tight scrawl which seems to be written in a language or code Zokama doesn't immediately recognize.
As to the field of cast aside weapons and debris nothing gave off a magical aura, and none of the items are of any significant value. The grave goods have suffered from their time in the ground and show pitting, warping, rust, and rot. You might be able to take some time cleaning them up, selecting the best pieces, but that would take some time.
Braggi feels a bit relieved now that the task is done. He longs for a well deserved rest, though.
"I don't know about you, guys, but tonight the room at the Inn will feel like a king's palace and the dinner like a banquet."
Seeing that the old gear is both non-magical and quite damaged, Zokama abandons her search for loot.
After puzzling out the scroll case, Zokama hands the arcane scrolls to Fil, to see if he can identify them. Then she takes a closer look at the scrawled words on the lambskin to see if she can decipher it, or at least tell what language(s) are needed to read it.
By the heavens..... defeated.... Not-Named... We have..... broken.... 333.. stones..... apart... lock... reformed.... Damnation... skull.... rods.. keys... prison..... Yatils.... witch Louhi......
It appears the missive is written not in a standard Aerdi format, left to right, top to bottom, but in a spiral along the outer edge, leading to the center, moving right to left, in the opposite manner of how the Dwarven runic spiral works, center outwards moving left to right.
Staring at the page seems to make the letters move, or rather gives the illusion of movement, making words seem to catch your eye in a particular order. Twisting or turning the page only restarts the process, your eyes soon again picking out the first word, and following the pattern once more from there. Staring too long at the script causes a mild dizziness and nausea.
The smell of the letter seems to come from the preservatives used to prepare the lambskin and protect it from aging. The ink is darker than you'd expect, heavier too, suggesting lead powder may have been used in the final formula.
Zokama wishes she had been able to afford a journal and an inkpen on this trip (her old journals full and left at home, her pens lost or long run dry) so that she could take notes, and resolves to buy them as soon as she can afford it, so that she can fully decipher this letter, writing down the part that she can puzzle out and then getting other people to help with the languages that she doesn't recognize.
Fil grins at Braggi. "I believe you have it right, Braggi. And I will buy the first round for everyone.
He turns to Xaod. "Thank you for your valor, Xaod. I do not fully comprehend, nor do I fully agree with your faith, but you fought with honor there. You would be a welcome addition at my table for the evening, should you choose."
Fil casts Read Magic on the scrolls. And seeing that she is trying to decipher the lambskin, he offers to decipher that as well, via Comprehend languages. He will write down the translation as he goes, as he also has a pen & ink.
Edit: The two arcane scrolls are of the spell Teleport, at CL 9th.
Fil realizes that the spell alone is not enough to determine the code within. He focuses more intently on this while the spell is working its magic.
Working together, piecing what you understand with what seems to be the basic key, you unravel the writing to spell out the below. Oddly though there are still symbols and runes you do not recognize, and without another key the cipher of them is lost to you.
Prophet's Prosaic 237
By the heavens' weeping tears will gods rue us, defeated at the hands of the vowed Not-Named Champion of Chaos.
We have discovered His true promises, broken into fragmenting tears.
333 crystaline stones of royal purple hue scattered apart by the hated enemy, lock and hasp of prison reformed to hold our Ebon God away.
Damnation shall be broken by skull of gold, silver, platinum.
Rods fitted with keys of the elements in prison cells from great primal lords.
Yatils children shall rebel on witch Louhi of another name to discover the tomb.
Since Fil seems to be more adept at this, and she doesn't have a journal to work with, Zokama gives this page to Fil as well.
The stone monument now erected and the area temporarily made safe again Musami ambles about on his short legs packing away the equipment into the cart.
I've packed the cart. If everyone is ready lets get back to Hommlet.
When everyone is ready he'll climb into the cart, along with Xaod and anyone else who is riding along.
Realizing that he had been distracted by the academic pursuit in the letter, Fil agrees and helps to turn the wagon around and get everyone home.
As the sun sets you turn the wagon from the rough track which led you to the memorial and back onto the road which leads beyond you onward to Verbobonc or south towards your temporary home, Hommlet.
The trip back to the Hommlet seems to pass uneventfully, and shortly after dark you see the weak glows of lights peeking from behind shuttered windows and low lamps in the town below. Nearby the church of Saint Cuthbert rings seven bells, alerting the town and surrounding area of nightfall and an ending of the day.
"Now that's a welcome sight after this day, my friends." Fil says, smiling to the others.
"how about we get ourselves a warm meal and a good night's sleep? We can mull over the day tomorrow, but let us celebrate Valor and success this eve, and toast the fallen.
He says the last part looking to Xaod to see if he agrees to such.
Navith breathes a long sigh of relief, content at last, that this day at least, Pelor and all good gods are victorious. He msiles ruefully at the dark weapon in his hand as Xaod approaches him, bare hand held in honourable greeting?
"You are counted among the blessed of Emridy this day, and I would dishonour my long gone grand dame and all who fell here if I counted you among the least. Even a beggar may ride if there is space, and if not then I shall walk,"
Navith thanks Musami for packing the gear, and checks the doughty dwarf is alright.
The Pelorite is quiet on the ride back, pausing to turn to look back only when the 'Meadow is all but lost to view, as if to reassure himself that they did indeed succeed.
" I must profess a certain distaste for revelry and taverns - the monastic life has a way of turning one inside one's self, as well as away from the very people one helps to serve and bring to Pelor's glory. Still, I prefer it that way, so please take no offense if I refrain from festivities this night. I am sure the Canon will be anxious to hear firsthand of your success today. "
Navith remembers worldly concerns.
"I will drop you at the inn, then take the equipment back to the building site."
"Yeah, I need some spicy meat and a big jar of ale to put it down."
Zokama gets a room at the inn again for one night, if there is one available, and starts working on sorting out all of the groups' loot which they had stored in the wagon.
Upon returning to town Musami will go to the church and return the battle aspergillum. Once the borrowed equipment and vial of holy water has been returned he goes to the smithy to check in on Tomi.
There is still mud caked in places on his armour as he knocks on the door.
Fil will suggest, upon seeing Zokama's impatience at counting, to get a double room (with 2, quite separate beds, as he does not want to appear improper), but he would be happy to assist in sorting the loot, but it would be a good idea to do so with the rest present. That, and with what was just faced, a single person alone in a room is a terrible idea, in Fil's opinion.
Especially after the evil impersonator of Jaroo and the loss of Cedryk. The loss of Jocasta with her sudden departure still weighs on him heavily, even if he finds it understandable.
He can even offer expertise with identification if we find more magical items after further inspection.
Also, his offer of drinks and food stands as well.
He's even encouraging Navith to join, as nourishment is good for all.
Err, Fil, I would be happy to sort the loot in a more public area if it is a trust issue for the group. Does this inn have a private dining room? As for joint accommodations though... I am hesitant. Being vulnerable around other people that I don't know well makes me feel unsafe, and I wouldn't be able to sleep well. I don't know if it is just me and too many nights on the road, or whether that fear is common to women, but either way it would be hard for me. ... I'm willing to do it if you really don't think that this inn is secure for some reason, but if so, I would advise you to be careful to not come near or make any loud noises. I will only be able to sleep very lightly, and if I get surprised in my sleep, I'm likely to stab someone, and we wouldn't want that.
Toruk shrugs, "I trust you Zokama. If I can trust you in battle then I trust you with the loot."
He then joins Braggi at the bar. "Bartender, strong ale please!"
"Zokama, you are right, and we have been quite safe in the Inn so far. It was not my intention to offend, please, join us for food and drink. I have already put up the offer for drinks for all." Fil was intending for a second once over with Detect Magic and such, with discussion of the treasure in the morning.
Looking to Toruk, he smiles, "Truer words were never spoken."
"Do as you please with the loot, as long as I get my share" Braggi states. "I would, however, hesitate to sleep too far away from a trustful one. See that Kobort - he had his mind poisoned by Turuko and no one knew. Could be the same with any other around. So you'll do fine to sleep with one eye open."
That said, Braggi leaves the rooms for the others. The commons will be exposed, but it will be hard to approach him without waking up someone.
I wasn't offended, Fil. Promise. I was just explaining. Thank you for the offer of free drinks, but I don't drink, and unfortunately until we divide the loot, dinner would bankrupt me. I'll just have rations for today, and leave the loot here, if you would prefer to sort it yourself or to deal with it in the morning. I need some sleep anyway. Today was exhausting. Good night.
Ostler Gundigoot is ecstatic when your group returns to the Inn, happy to hear you both survived your excursion to the Meadows and moreso that you have repaired the Memorial, if only for a short while. He tells his wife Molly and Alison that the evening's meals, as well as two rounds libations, are on the house. Within reason of course, he offers with a wink.
The Inn appears to be rather sparse tonight, with only a single table taken in the corner. An old man, recognizable to Zokama, is smiling kindly as a drunken Elmo regales him with some meandering tale of a battle he and his older brother once had. And den, tha' ole bugbear hag done wat tried ta cast her evil spell on me brudder, Otis, buggie eyed bear-beeyotch. It is clear the old man can barely hear the tale, sipping at his mug, nodding and smiling, his reactions rarely matching the pauses the drunken fighter takes whether for dramatic effect, struggling memory, or downing another gulp from the three mugs and half empty bottle cluttering the table.
Ostler clears away the center of the room, moving two tables together to give your group some space, looking about for signs of those missing from the roster. I hope everyone's survived, his face slightly concerned, I'd like to show you all the appreciation I'm sure the Town Council and Lords feel for your assistance. He ushers for you all to be seated, stoking the fire at the end of the room to bring up the warmth a bit, a chill settling in outside.
As Alison brings the first round of drinks, Ostler chimes in about things in town. Nevets is improving, whatever ailed him seeming to shrink away late this afternoon. His color, fever, and disposition followed suit shortly after. Glancing around the room, The latest caravan abruptly up and left today, clearing out my rooms almost, taking all but a few stragglers with them. I have six rooms available upstairs, yours if you wish any of them, our fancy suite, three nice singles, and two double rooms. If you prefer the commons is open, only two down on their coins traders passing thru with half spoilt packs using it tonight.
Ostler then speaks briefly with one of the pot boys and stable master, sending them to alert the council and Lord Burne of your success.
Xaod accompanies you to the Inn of the Welcome Wench, and is willing to stay and enjoy drinks and a meal with your group, but indicates he has a room at tavern on the far edge of Tent Town. My things are there, as are I believe some of the belongings of my lost companions. I should probably return there tonight and see that the things are gathered and turned over to the militia. Perhaps they can see that any next of kin receive anything of value. He removes his spiked gauntlet and hangs it from his belt. I wouldn't be surprised if the owner or his new partners cleared everything of value out already, shiftless the lot of them. Smiling one of his rare genuine smiles, Still though, at least the raven haired girl there is nice to look at, and not entirely without other charms as well.
When Zokama notices Fennit, she smiles at Fil and excuses herself, then moves over to the table where Fennit is sitting with Elmo. Fennit! she says with a smile. Good to see you again. How are your knees?
Fil takes note of Elmo's battle tale. Perhaps when he's sober...
"Thank your for recognizing my..." Fil smiles as Zokama excuses herself. "intent."
Fil, refusing not to pay for his meal, orders whatever stew is left with any hunks of bread and cheese. And an ale, rare for Fil, but he has had a day.
Turning to Xaod, Fil sees him smile. "Happiness becomes you, Xaod. Perhaps a bit of rest is needed after such a dangerous battle. Although our honorable, fallen comrades need a toast. Would you care to provide one?" Fil tilts his mug towards Xaod.
Musami joins the others at the inn. I'll have an ale please. he asks the Ostler. Taking his drink he settles at the table with the others.
Fennit smiles bleary eyed at Zokama and offers her a spot on the bench beside him. Good, good, not too bad, slurring a bit. Waitin' on Elmo here to finish, to take me home. Elmo for his part continues his tale, more mumbling to himself, trying to remember what happened next. Duh, buried her we did, down in the swamp. Her and her damnable book too, both of 'em down to the deeps.
Looking at Zokama as though she'd always been there he added, Otis said she'd be back, but me's not so sure. Not that deep. Nope. Too deep, too dead. Am I right? Smiling to Fennit, nodding, Yep, takes us both home I do. Ma wants me to be up early. Donn know whys. Patting Zokama on the shoulder, Moms, right, shaking his head. The big man then empties the last mug and toys with the cork of the near empty bottle. Deciding if he should finish it perhaps.
Elsewhere, nodding to Filnefillan, Xaod collects his spiked gauntlet and takes a full mug from the barmaid. He stands and takes a rigid pose. Bowing his head a moment he then raises the mug high. To the table he speaks, in somber tone and clear voice, The fallen now do rest, given to glory through sacrifice. The gods they did know them, may they remember them, that they never be forgotten. So, all, to the fallen, drink... He then drinks deep from the mug, stopping only once empty. He squeezes the mug hard, denting the sides with his mailed fist, nearly crushing the rim closed. He places the mug upside down on the table, setting a plate on Alison's tray to pay for the damage, intending to keep the ruined vessel.
From behind the bar Ostler gestures to Alison, and she adds one extra round to the table, topping off any drinks needing it as Molly brings out the tables' assorted meal requests.
Musami likewise raises his mug and drains it along with Xaod. he wont crush the mug though. May they have found the rest that they deserve.
Zokama asks Elmo You and Otis killed a witch?
Hearing Zokama's question, Elmo makes his decision and pours the last of the bottle into his mug, and looks over to her, wobbling slightly. Nope, not a witch. She wert a bug-eyed buggedity bear priestessesusus, nodding sagely and deeply.
She was da leader. Had a biggity old circle in the swamp. Bad stones wit markins and blood and bones trying to sound ominous. We was hired ta get da noble's daughter back, the buggies done tooked her from a caravan.
He shakes his head as he continues, holding his mug and swirling it's contents. But she wernt there, juss the buggedity bugs. We and da troopers ran did in, killt dem all, and den we chased the beeyotchity boo when she ran offt.
He smiles broadly, eyes crossing in and out, We caught up in da swamp, an she tried ta cursed us or summtin. But Otis cut her, and I cut her, and Dervil shotted his arrows an she died, sorta.
The big warrior stands then, holding to the table with one hand, his mug in the other. And we dumpted her in the deep dark waters, wit her ugly books and her idol, and her brandings all. She sanked and she died. Yep. He then drains his mug for the last, sadly it seems.
Uh-oh. All gone. An that means time ta go. Gots ta get Fennit home, an me home too. Rules are da rules. He stumbles around the table, surprisingly gently lift the old man and bracing him off his arm, taking most of the man's weight easily to his own. You lead Fenny, I donn know where I left the horsies.
Fennit leans on the man, easily and gratefully. We walked Elmo, the horsies are home. But giddey up all the same.
Musami casts a glance at his fellow party members. Anyone else think that the job wasn't quite done completely?
Braggi drinks, and listens to Elmo's story. When Xaod speaks, though, he thinks for a second and the beginning of an idea starts to form in his head.
"Hey, Xaod" he asks. "YOu just said you were going to give your companions' items to their families. What if you showed'em to us and we bought you some of them if they are useful? Their families would be better served with the money, they can employ it on a nice stone or whatever they need. Don't you think?"
Xaod considers Braggi's suggestion before replying. I would need to confer with the local authority, as would be proper, but I doubt they would be against such an offer. Sitting back down he adds, It would be up to the leaders to locate any heirs as is, so they may well prefer something less obtrusive than having a few packs, bags, clutches of soiled clothing, and so on sitting around collecting dust while they look for any next of kin.
Fil sees Zokama talking to ELmo and the old man, but he cannot hear what they are saying, but he will be happy to discuss that later.
Fil raises his mug to Xaod's toast. "A fine toast, Xaod." Seeing Braggi come over, he listens, and he nods with what Xaod says. At the same time he sees Musami come over, and, catching his glance, he nods.
"That may be Musami, but any small victory is a victory nonetheless. Let us enjoy a small respite, and get back at it once we have a good night's sleep and time to think about it."