Lasair stands back for a moment, watching as the companions explode into action with all the fluidity of a group used to facing death at each others side.
Absently she guestures at one of the oncoming undead, chanting in Ignan as a shimmering scimitar of golden light materializes to slash at it.
Well, that ends the wights.
The hare scurries away into the woods, and the grateful priest salutes you.
"Thank you, my friends. Your arrival was timely, to say the least. I thought that I had reached the depths of misfortune at the raid yesterday when my shrine was desecrated. Little did I know that I would have to fend off my own flock."
Roylenna beams with pride.
"Exqctly what happened here, Father? Who is behind the raid? Are the raiders fairly common around here?"
Lyria nods her head shortly. "We're glad to be of service, Father. Is there anything else you might need assistance with after the raid and the attack?"
After he responds, Lyria will do whatever he asks for in the village, and will ask him for any additional information he might have about the attacks. She will then go and pray at the shrine.
The golden-haired girl nods emphatically at the cleric's response. "We would like to - we need - to help. Let us know what we can do."
With a tired gesture Father Elijan beckons you to follow him. A magical gesture fills a basin with fresh water. "Alas, this is all I can offer you. This is what I have come to. But you want to know about the raid."
"This story starts many centuries ago, before the great immortal Arden was banished by the foul Tsathogga. Then he crafted for his high priests a rod of great power, used for healing and light. In this time, Arden walked among mortals in avatar form and was a great teacher. The rod was given to his descendants to use in peace and love. Then came Arden's destruction at the hands of Tsathogga and the forces of Norgorber, and lo, did a great evil come into the world. Legends tell us that although Arden was destroyed, his rod remained a force of good in the world and was passed among the descendants of the priesthood of Arden as a symbol of their faith that Arden would come agai, reborn to the world of mortals to guide them in peace and goodness."
"The Champion of the minions of Norgorber at this time was the hobgoblin Gol, who was thoroughly ruthless and evil and very wily, even for his race. For his devotion and service, Norgorber granted that his left hand would have the power to turn whomever into undead minions of himself."
"At about this time Ronashim the prophet was born into the world. He is said to have been Arden reborn, so golden was his fleshand so powerful was the lifhgt that shone from his eyes. A child even still, it is said that Ronashim used the powers of the rod and with it bound Gol to his will. Legends say that Gol's evil will was crushed by the young prophet's power, and he was guided towards goodness, swearing forever to defend the prophet from all enemies. The victory was short lived, however, and it is said that the two were set upon in a devious ambush by the forces of darkness. They were both slain. In the last moment, followers of Arden are said to have stolen away the bodies of the two, with the exception of Gol's left hand, which remained upon the field of battle. In great secrecy did they steal the bodies and bury them in a hidden place.
Lasair stood in the background, barely noticed. She knew that her path lay with these people, at least for a time, yet they were all still caught up with grief for their fallen friend.
So she listened in silence.
Ka'kara warily watches the priest, is he real or is this another trick of the demon?
Roylenna plops down directly in front of the priest, listening. Legs crossed, elbows on her knees, head in her hands, she looked even more like a schoolchild than normal.
Lyria interrupts the father while he goes on and on with his folklore lesson. "This is an interesting legend father, but you began to talk about the raid. What makes you think that this raid is connected to the story, and that the left hand was found now?"
The elderly priest grumbles and spits. "I'm getting there, aren't I? The evil ones who had committed the murder of the two seized Gol's hand and used it to fill the world with the undead. This gruesome item became known as the Hand of Gol. Finally, the evil ones were defeated by a great priest of Iomedae known as Motembe the Holy, who then became keeper of the Hand of Gol."
"Motembe eventually succumbed to the evil of the hand and the wounds he had suffered to body and spirit duinr the battle with Gol. As he wrestled for control of his soul, he built a tomb for himself in what eventually became the hamlet of Westlyn to act as a prison to the evil he felt consuming him. He surrounded the tomb with protections against evil in the hope that he and the hand would be forgotten forever. This, sadly was not to be the case."
"Several days ago, a cloaked stranger came to Westlyn and asked me for entrance to Motembe's burial place. Naturally I refused, and the man was angered, saying that he would return. This he did. Last night the man came back with this band of reavers, and they forced their way into the crypt. The strangers seized the Hand of Gol, bestowing many negative levels on me and turning several of the village watch into undead."
Elijan pokes into the ashes and uncovers an intact box. "Here, he says in a tired voice."Here are 10 vials of holy water and 2 potions of Cure Light Wounds. It's not much, but it's what I have left to offer you. Please end the manace to my village."
"There may still be something useful in Motembe's tomb, but it is paramount that the Hand of Gol does not reach the secret Crypt of Ronashim in the Bone Hills."
"Oh, no! How much lead do they have? Wait! Um, where are the Bone Hills? We are not from around here." She shrugs from her seat in the dirt. Standing, she brushes dust from her clothes. "Father, our friend was slain in a fight with a demon and he would be of great help recovering this Hand of Gol. We were actually sent here because someone thought you could restore him to life.". She leaves the request unstated, the hope in her eyes clear.
Lyria whispers to Roylenna: "I'm not sure he is still capable of that. That man seemed to have weakened the father , and I guess we will have to resolve this situation before we can help Gregori, as much as I don't like it".
She adds, to the others: "I believe we should begin with checking the tomb instead of chasing those men right away. It might still have something of value, especially about this hand, and whatever we can do with it later. I have no plans to be corrupted".
"Oh. Like when that happened to Ka'kara? Oh. Father, if we leave Gregori's remains with you, can you restore him when you have recovered from last night's battle?"
"We need to make haste checking the tomb, however. If they get too big a lead on us, I doubt we can catch up..."
"More eyes, then, will make it more likely we find what might be there to see, right? Let's go!"
Ka'kara shakes her head at Roylenna's suggestion to leave Gregori's body and breaks her self imposed silence for the first time, "I will go where Gregori goes."
The father rises with difficulty. I can take care of your friend, but it will probably be a couple of days until I have had the opportunity of recuperating. But Gentle Repose I can manage.
"I think it's best to leave Gregori here for the time being. The priest will care for him. However it seems we might have another traveler who might be interested in assisting with this matter," the sorcerer says, nodding to the newcomer.
Lyria nods at Lasair, "We could use your help, if you would join us".
Then to the others: "We should move quickly - time is of the essence. The sooner we leave to stop this Hand, the sooner we will be back here and have Gregori back".
Roylenna turns and fixes her 'sister' with an uncharacteristically stern look. "The rest of you go to the tomb. Ka'kara and I need a moment in private and will catch up."
Those who look back see the tiny woman staring up at the barbarian princess, arms folded across her chest. Whatever she is saying, she is saying with some intensity.
As Lyria and Atrival turn to Lasair she steps forward, taking in the group's resolve in the midst of their suffering.
"It would be an honor and my duty to aid you,"she says solemnly, her voice carrying a lilting almost musical tone.
Her next words however seem to possess an eerie echo, a finality that seems to make the very air shudder.
"The one you have lost, he is very dear to the Sacred Flame. She will keep his soul fire burning until he walks amongst you again. I am honored to help you in your quest to restore him. I am Lasair"
"I feel like I just spend all my times in catacombs now". "Still, your faithfulness to your fallen comrade inspires me". "I offer you my skills in this venture...if you'll have me".
"I think I am speaking for us all when I say that we will accept both your honorable offers of assistance, as we could use any available help for this quest, weakened as we currently are". She then adds, in a softer voice: "And know that although things might happen to any of us on our journeys, we will always remain loyal to each other, and do our best to save anyone of us from death itself, including you".
As Ka'kara rejoins the group she gives the newcomer Lasair a frosty look and says in a tone that does not seem to invite discussion, "We should go."
Roylenna sighs and follows the barbarian. "Yes, let's go."
Marching order? Two abreast will work.
Tika in the middle
Ka'kara is in front, taking what had become Gregori's traditional position.
You enter into a pillared chamber which was once finely carved and frescoed featuring the deeds of the great warrior-priest Motembe, but which is now covered in dust and cracked plaster. A sepulchral door is broken open at the end of this chamger,; beyond is a sshaft that slopes into darkness.
The painted carvings show Motembe fighting against hordes of undead minions and eventually slaying an enemy priest. Another picture shows Motembe smiting a giant with a great gem-capped warhammer. As the giant falls, the gem at the end-cap of the warhammer appears to be ledged in Gol's skull. The last illustration depicts Motembe striking the hand from the fallen giant.
There is also an inscription:
Through Faith and Strength did I live.
In a moment's Pride did I fall.
Had I then the Sight to see
Fated what was to become of me
Rest me Now at the Feet of Torag.
Through Faith and Strength may I endure.
Turn her symbol of faith of that which is right
Three times boldly on my Sepulchral;
Release the Light Into the Hall.
With the Hammer IN HIS Name Call.
That which is Risen shall again Fall.
There is only one way ahead, and you will have to move in single file.
Roylenna casts her Dancing Lights spell to illuminate the area before the barbarian princess.
While they walk Tika pulls out another random notepad "So tell me about yourself?" Tika asks Lasir before the random questions come out "Where you from? any adventures youve had? where did you get such and such?" Beig the most prevailant
Artival's ears perk up at Tika's questions. That one certainly isn't scard to break the ice!
Lyria rolls her eyes when Tina begins with her questions again, and moves away, trying not to listen to them.
As you proceed down the narrow hallway Ka'kara is suddenly set upon by Gregori's angry ghost and needs to make a Will 19 save (this is a fear effect).
Lasair smiles at Tika's questions, telling og her being guided to the outpost, the battle against the attackers and culmination in the indication of the need to join the group.
Tika nods notting this all down before asking more random questions things such as "Who she worships? what groups she's affiliated with? whats her favorite colour?"
Spellcraft 20:
A look of pure terror crosses the barbarianess' face as she hisses out, "By the ancestors, he comes for me!"