Callomeleth calls out to Shelyn for aid and a wash of rose-golden energy sweeps outward.
The energy doesn't seem to do much to faze the entity, although a couple more flakes fall off. In response, it turns its bite and claws on Lamsfel angrily.
Lamsfel avoids the creature's second attack, but feels something... odd... after the largely ineffective bite.
Tristan takes another mighty swing at the monster, muttering something inaudible.
,
Lamsfel feels a sudden tightness in his chest, as though he is suddenly at very high altitude and can't quite find enough air to breathe.
Tristan recovers from his previously-missed swing and manages to line up a much better attack, taking most of an arm off of the creature.
Tybus rears back with Song of Sparrows and swings it down upon the childlike undead, worried about the look that Lamsfel gave after it touched him with its unnatural powers.
Gan channels the powers of his celestial ally, trying to set free the tortured soul.
Fighting his suddenly-heavy limbs, Lamsfel attacks again.
Under your combined assault, the undead crumples to dust and fluttering rags.
Tybus looks at his friend with concern. You all right, mate? he asks while he shakes the katana free from the dust before returning it to its scabbard. He casts detect magic and scans the room, also lingering on Lamsfel, to see if there's any residual magic from the creature's touch.
Adrenalin spent, the elf's weary shoulders droop. "Aye. Nothing a good night's rest won't fix, i think. It is like it stole the energy from my limbs. What do you see with your magesight?"
Seeing that Lamsfel is suffering no life-threatening conditions, Gan stoops his enlarged form to cross the threshold, searching the room for signs of other inhabitants or anything of interest.
Gan's examination is swift and thorough, and it takes him little time to find a child's skeleton, still pinned to the floor beneath a stack of old firewood and a heavy iron brazier. Whoever he was, the poor dying child had seemingly tried to distract himself from his wounds or perhaps the sounds of battle outside by scribbling drawings on the wall with charcoal; these images depict crude representations of ninja with throwing stars, frightening bird-headed men, and lumbering magical ogres wielding axes — images made all the more frightening by their childlike quality.
Adrenalin spent, the elf's weary shoulders droop. "Aye. Nothing a good night's rest won't fix, i think. It is like it stole the energy from my limbs. What do you see with your magesight?"
Tybus is silent for a moment. Then finally answers, Nothing but sadness.
Yes--there is nothing sadder then the death of a child. I pray his soul is laid to rest. When we clear this place of evil, we should return and put his bones to rest as well.
"'tis a sad fate for anyone. Do you think his art told of what happened when the castle was taken? Wait - was that his spirit we just fought? Is it the sort of unquiet spirit that comes back if it's not put to rest? They do that, right?"
"I'm not sure what it was, Lamsfel," Callomeleth says quietly, his voice choking as he imagines the suffering the child had endured. "I can at least sing him to his long-delayed judgment, and ask Pharasma to judge him fairly."
Callomeleth closes his eyes, and sings a soft, mournful Elven tune, one that is traditional to sing at funerals, and kneels down next to the child's skeleton. He continues singing as he picks up each of the bones, placing them in his pack for the time being. When the work is done, he finishes the song, and stands, his eyes wet and his cheeks tear-streaked.
"We can commit the child into the cemetery on our way out," he says after clearing his throat. "I think that would quiet his spirit, should it still stir."
With nothing but ill thoughts to be found here, the rest of the castle beckons.
Tristan keeps an uncomfortable silence.
Quietly, "Thank you, Callomeleth. It may not comfort the child, but it will surely comfort me." He turns to walk out of the room and look around for their next area to explore.
"That makes two of us, my friend," Callomeleth replies softly, and follows Lamsfel further on into the castle.
Tybus nods, not really feeling talkative. He keeps the katana out and ready as the group readies themselves for another room, possibly filled with new threats. He pushes the door open, scanning inside for potential threats.
The next door opens up to reveal a short curved hallway with a pair of doors opening off of it before it returns to the main feasting hall once more. One door is stuck, but takes only moderate effort to open - the cause turns out to be thick ropes of a disgusting-looking but harmless fungus within, covering rotting bunk beds and old, almost-destroyed pieces of basic furnishings. Beneath the fungus are three long-dead bodies, all of whom appear to have been once human. They were each killed by violence, specifically heavy blows from massive slashing weapons, but their skulls are missing. Marks on the bones around their necks suggest they were decapitated.
The next room has neither fungus nor bodies, just old bunk beds, smashed remains of what were perhaps once footlockers or similar small chests, and a single tiny table; it is recognizable as having once been servants' quarters, and suggests that the fungus-filled room was probably the same.
Once you reach the end of the curving hallway and return to the feasthall, you realize that the hall curved around a small room connected to the feasthall directly. Opening that door, you discover it to be a washroom, surprisingly clean after all these years. Looking at the mess of the feasthall itself, you can only suspect its cleanliness has to do with the corbies' general lack of personal hygiene.
Callomeleth frowns as he examines the human remains. "Something was taking trophies," he says with displeasure. "What the Hell happened here?"
Looking in the second quarters, Lamsfel pauses, "One moment..." Dagger in hand, he moves over to one of the beds and points at a small pile of mortar against the wall. Following the wall upward with his dagger, he comes to a brick that shifts when pressed.
Using the dagger, he teases the brick out to reveal a cache of silverware. "Might be valuable. Or perhaps we can return it to the rightful owners of the castle, if any remain alive." Wrapping them up in a cloth, he tucks them into his pack and replaces the brick.
Looking around the room, he shakes his head, "Stealing from their employer. Didn't do them much good. I'm ready - where to?"
[dice=Perception]1d20+5
Callomeleth frowns as he examines the human remains. "Something was taking trophies," he says with displeasure. "What the Hell happened here?"
The double doors to the northeast open to reveal a fairly large room, semicircular and connected to the rest of the castle by a short entry passage, flanked on either side by doors that remind you of closets. Judging from the blood and gouges marring the walls, a terrific battle once took place in this guard room, but it is quiet and empty now. A curving set of stairs leads back down to the first floor on the room's far side.
Another way down. Good to know. Let's finish exploring up here before we check out the rest of the place, huh? Tybus offers while moving around, wary for hidden attackers.
"Definitely, Tybus. Though I'm slightly encouraged that we haven't heard any defenders coming to check out the battle we had with that undead creature. Maybe we've dealt with most of them already." He also pokes around the room, making his way to the side doors.
Gan nods, weapon draw, ready to follow.
Lamsfel nods, moving to a door with the Elven cleric, ready to defend him as each 'closet' is checked.
The two "closets" turn out to be small armories, each long since stripped of anything useful and now basically bare save for the empty weapon racks on the walls.
Tybus casts about, staying wary and on the defensive. However, Callomeleth's observations that they may have already dealt with the remainder of upstairs enemies has him quietly hopeful.
Lamsfel moves to listen at the southern double doors.
Lamsfel hears only the beating of his own heart.
Shrugging his shoulders, he shakes his head and moves over to the other double doors to listen.
There is likewise only silence within, as far as Lamsfel can tell.
In a low voice, "Take your pick. Neither door is divulging secrets without an opening, it would seem."
Tybus goes to the southern double doors and nods to everyone, waiting for them to take up positions. He first tries the door handle, but puts his boot to the door if it's wedged or locked.