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Asht'el offers to join in the singing as well. "Never sung for a dead elf before, but used to be lots of singing of all sorts in my home, before..."
Randall is distracted from the conversation as he begins to gather up items from among the bones. "Ah, sorry. I am no singer, but I can try to help..."
The first rays of sunlight begin to peep over the horizon just as the group finishes their preparations. As Njord bellows about being a bear, Jametor finds that the ancient words come easily to him once he's begun. The rest of the group, following Jametor's description of the ritual, take turns placing stones over the bare skeleton. Finally the body is covered, and the song changes; Jametor's tone takes on a deep, military timbre as his companions step forward to claim the items formerly borne by the victim.
Finally, just as the sun's rays shine down through the trees upon the fresh grave, the ritual is complete. The surrounding forest is quiet, and the group's lack of sleep the previous night begins to tell.
*yawn* "You were busy with preparing her for burial, but I found some nice stuff around the room. Good quality stuff, I think, maybe magic to stand up to time so well, but someone else will have to check to be sure."
"Wow, that's a lot of good stuff, Randall," Asht'el comments. "Must have been a hell of a fight here." He studies the items they found on the skeleton they've just interred, wondering what they might be.
Quilindra looks around at the tired party. "Now what?" she asks.
Looking around at the others, Randall suggests, "We still need to locate a place to rest. I suppose you don't need that, but we do. Is this going to be safe, this place?"
The succubus shrugs helplessly. "Your guess is as good as mine. The Shin'Rakorath are no doubt after you by now, but whether or when they or anything else will come here I can't say."
Njord considers the question. "This is, or was, haunted. Maybe that'll be enough to keep 'em from chasin' us here."
"Maybe so, Njord," Asht'el concurs. "I say we try resting here. It's not a pleasant place, but it's quiet for the moment."
Looking at the she-demon, "Where are we going after this? Would it make more sense to proceed in the dark or wait for daylight?"
"This gate, assuming it works, will take us to Tanglebriar. The demons there... do not sleep." She shrugs. "However, the elves do, and it is them you are going to see, no? I do not know how they would respond if you appeared at night. It might mean nothing to them."
"We should do this 'boreal' and have it done. Do not want to linger here longer than we must to."
Confusion crosses the halfling's features, "Sorry, what do you mean, 'boreal'?"
"We're all beat from the diggin' and singin' and such. Let's try to get some rest and move on in the afternoon. Hopefully the elves we're goin' to meet don't mind the late visit", Njord suggests.
"Sounds good to me, Njord," Asht'el says, yawning. "Let's rest and move on as soon as we can."
"We'll need to set watches, then. We know it might not be safe, so we need to do our best to be prepared when whatever happens, happens. One person, or two? I will volunteer to take first unless a mage should - I don't really understand what you need to get your magic back..."
"I can watch alone, if need be," Xiddik says. "But double watches may be more wise."
Rest: To prepare his daily spells, a wizard must first sleep for 8 hours. The wizard does not have to slumber for every minute of the time, but he must refrain from movement, combat, spellcasting, skill use, conversation, or any other fairly demanding physical or mental task during the rest period. If his rest is interrupted, each interruption adds 1 hour to the total amount of time he has to rest in order to clear his mind, and he must have at least 1 hour of uninterrupted rest immediately prior to preparing his spells.
A sorcerer or bard needs 8 hours of rest (just like a wizard)
With a bit more searching, the group finds what must have once been the elven barracks. Oddly enough, there is little evidence of fighting or even living here; it's as though the beds weren't used for some time even before... whatever it was happened. The group beds down, and their rest is undisturbed; even the birds seem to have vacated this area long ago.
Xiddik wakes first as the afternoon sun filters in through a missing piece of stonework and lands on her toe where it's sticking out from under the covers. The rest wake slowly after that, and soon the group has eaten and is ready to continue their journey.
At the elf-gate, Jametor discovers that whatever was preventing the magic from functioning is doing so no longer. Quilindra nods at this and takes the forefront, holding up her amulet and beginning her chant. When the portal opens, she turns to the group and speaks an additional word, causing her half-elven guise to drop from her like a hundred autumn leaves.
Asht'el steels himself for yet another unpleasant surprise as they prepare to step through the elf-gate.
The stomach-twisting sensation is no surprise to the seasoned gate-travelers, but it is most definitely still unpleasant. The group emerges from the gate at the other end with the familiar feeling of being squeezed through a banana-shaped hole in the universe, but this time the surroundings seem much less distinct from the disorienting visions along the way.
The gate sits on a small patch of dry ground amid a stinking, seething bog of tainted water. All around are tall, forbidding trees through which the sunlight cannot pass, and the swampy ground is thick with diseased and foul-smelling mushrooms.
Njord is the first one out of the portal; he finds himself breaking through a thick layer of moss and ivy that has overgrown the gate. The others have a similar experience, though with each one's passage the way is eased for the next person through.
Just as Jametor emerges from the gate, a splashing is heard from both sides, and a pressure builds inside the group's minds. screams a voice inside their heads, even as two massive spiders the size of elephants come charging through the water toward the gate!
Before his companions can scatter to the winds - as they inevitably do in a fight - Asht'el spins his hands around each other, then flings them out to his sides, granting his friends extra speed against the massive spider-horrors!
Jametor spins to his left and flinging a ball out of his hand, the familiar bead of orange heads toward the spider.
The creature's roar of anger fills the party's minds as Jametor's fireball goes off.
"Well done, Jametor! Focus on the smoking one, everyone!"[b] He looks at Asht'el. [b]"Thanks for the boost - it would be very helpful if they couldn't see where I was, if you can help with that, too!"
The halfling loads the crossbow with a normal bolt at takes aim .
Randall's crossbow bolt goes wide, but the mental pressure shifts slightly; the attack did not go unnoticed.
Xiddik whips out her ocarina and begins to play.
The creatures continue their splashing advance upon the party, with one snapping at Njord while the other takes a chunk out of Jametor and Fíriel.
Quilindra casts a spell, and one of the spiders freezes in place!
Noting that Jametor's fireball seemed effective, Asht'el calls on the fire in his blood, sending a blast of flames at one of the spider creatures!
Jametor whimpers as the spider almost rips him apart.
A malodorous rot begins spreading outward from Jametor's wound, threatening to finish what the spider started.
Randall scampers onto the frozen creature looking for a particularly sensitive spot to sink his sword into.