"Well," says Anwel resignedly - he had been hoping someone would have an alternative - "unless anybody thought to bring a great deal of holy water from Thad's place, or can pump the body full of healing magic at a moment's notice, cremation it shall have to be." He points to the grotto from which he had cast his illusion . "Building the fire in a crevasse like that, and building it of dry wood, should minimize the light and smoke of it, and keep the heat confined to where the body is." Being manifestly unsuited to tree-cutting, Anwel decides to scrounge among the old fire pits for usable charcoal.
Anwel sticks his hand between two pieces of kindling to the stacked charcoal at the heart of the pyre. He coats the briquettes with conjured oil, then steps back in case anyone wants to say something before lighting the fire. "I will follow you, you know that," he says to Andrei. He shares Warren's concern that perhaps they have been gone from the trading post too long, but unless the cottage has moved, the map should tell them how to get the hills to there, and how to get from there to their friends.
"Thank you." he says simplily
The former bandits listen to Warren's words of new powers in the region, but show little true faith at this point. However, they do throw all of their energy into helping scavenge enough wood to build the pyre and dispose of the cursed body.
As the body becomes fully engulfed in quickly growing fire, the flames suddenly turn black near the center of the pyre. A piercing, high pitched squeal erupts as the body convulses several times and then suddenly stills again. A few seconds later, a tiny creature the size of a closed fist erupts from the bodies chest cavity. Black flames swirl around the thing as it hops around within the fire all the while emitting ear wrenching squeals.
The bandits cower as far from the pyre as they can get, obvious panic filling their faces. Only the knowledge that the rest of the group is the only safety they can count on at this point keeps them near.
Slowly the flames change back to a more normal color as the thing's cries grow quiet and it ceases to move. The body shifts slightly causing the still burning remains of the creature to tumble further into the heat of the fire where it finally disappears into the hot flames and coals.
With the destruction of the leader's body the former bandits all relax and are more willing than ever to follow the party down the mountain and beyond.
With the pyre burning itself out, you set out toward Oleg's. With the afternoon sun dropping toward evening, you finally get down off the mountain and back into the forest where you soon catch up with Vrag and Tams and your horses.
The older bandits waves his hand in greeting, "We were looping around to try an meet up with you when we came across the trail of another group of men making their way through the woods."
He glances at your more recent recruits and smiles. "Looks like you already dealt with 'em."
Warren takes no chances, and scatters what little remains are left to the four winds. He speaks the blessings of Erastil on the remains and prays to Erastil to keep the evil away from his lands and disciples.
Upon seeing the large creature, Warren smiles at Vrag:
"Thanks for not eating any birds. Much has passed, both evil and good, and I will recount these deeds to you for you to make your own decision. I do know the time to sit by and watch as the eagle fights the snake is long gone."
He gives Vrag a calculating glance and mentions with a smile: "I am the eagle in that colorful image, by the way. So, we are headed back to our settlement. It can be your settlement too if you want to join up. The actions of our past will soon we made of no consequence by the coming events."
Warren recounts their events in detail to Vrag, but leaves out the location of the sanctuary. He quietly looks for his reaction to gage the impact his words have on him.
Upon seeing the creature squirm out of the dead priest's chest, Anwel steps forward and raises his hand, preparing to use the black flames to chain it in place. But it soon becomes apparent that the thing is already well confined, so he takes the opportunity to sketch it instead, using a charred stick that had been too insubstantial for the fire. The fact that Akiros' goons can conjure such things, as well as things like the tentacled horror the priest had controlled, is worrisome. He will need to study them further.
Anwel's first thought is to reacquaint himself with Lairochal, but he pipes up when Warren describes the fight with, and the burning of, the Lissalan to Vrag. "His creatures looked like this," he says, handing over the drawing he had made by the pyre and another of the squid-like demon he had made on the way down. "Do you know how Tartuk might react to a power that counted such things among its allies? Or how the common Bone Raven might react?"
Andrei is obviously shocked at the appearance of the small creature and scrabbles to get his crossbow loaded before realising it won't be needed.
To add any historical accounts of something like this to Anwel's rolls.
Once back with Vrag and Tam he listen to Warren's account while recording in his diary. He doesn't have timing of a practiced storyteller he certainly has the passion. I sort of wish I could have taken up foloowing Erastil as he did, it would make thing so much simpler.
If that is the case, then it would certainly match the other evidence the party has seen that seems to point to a reincarnation of the Cult of the Black Hand, the mysterious followers of Lissala.
You begin the journey back to Oleg's via the cabin. Traveling through the forest, Vrag listens to Warren's tale and then looks quite thoughtful but doesn't answer the druid's question immediately. Instead he is distracted as Anwel reveals his drawings. Both the bugbear and Tams take a keen interest. Tams is the first to speak up as he points at the drawing of the leaders holy symbol.
"Aye, I've seen some o' them Black Robes wearing a sign like that. They usually keep it covered up, but I caught a glimpse of it one time. The blasted thing gives me the creeps if you really want t' know."
He shivers as he looks at the picture of the demon. "I've not seen anything like that, but there were rumors o' strange, wicked, creatures the Lord and the Black Robes controlled and used against some o' the other bandit lords down south."
Vrag listens to Tams and then snarls, "I've not seen such things myself, but these abominations would be forbidden among the Bone Ravens. If they truly are allies of the Bandit Lord, then Tartuk should know." He looks thoughtful for a moment and then a small smile flits across his lips. "This information could give you a bargaining chip and a way to see Tartuk." He says thoughtfully. "Perhaps even forgiveness for me. Do you have any physical proof of this creature?"
Warren looks at Vrag in frustration, not much for nuanced diplomacy.
"You want to go back knowing what you know? I cannot believe how much the world has changed for me in a few weeks."
He reflects and adds: "Speaking to Tartuk would be useful. If you want to set something up and take your chances with them, you are free to go."
"When we are rested, we can see what this cabin has to offer."
"It proved necessary to burn the black serpent," says Anwel, embarrassed, "and I do not think anybody kept any flesh from the whip demon. Nor is it certain that anything of it will remain for Tartuk or his agents to examine by the time we could tell him of it." His shoulders slump despondently, but he suddenly perks up again. "We did find a pair of manacles on the Blackrobe. He may have used them to control the demon. Stellan is carrying them for now. We can learn more of them tomorrow, with the right magics.
"Hearing this should 'give you the creeps,'" he says, turning to Tams. "The woman with the tail of a serpent represents Lissala, a supposedly dead goddess last worshiped in ancient Thassilon, far to the west. The Blackrobes are a cult of hers, properly called the Black Hand. They have no business here, beyond Thassilon's farthest bounds, and it pleases me to no end to hear that others besides us might wish to drive them out.
"As for the future," Anwel muses, "I think we should stick together. We can wrap up any loose ends in the woods, head back to the trading post, get everybody acquainted," he turns to Vrag, "and then anyone who wants can accompany you to the Bone Ravens. It will take longer, but at least we can make sure you get where you are going, and we will be on hand to assist if something goes wrong." He looks back and forward at Andrei and Warren. "What do you think?"
Warren thinks before answering:"Vrag is not required do more than he already has. Trying to coerce him was wrong. I would like him to meet a little girl who changed my attitude--I am sure she would ask many questions, but not one of prejudice or distrust. As a leader, we could use him."
He puts his hand on Vrag's shoulder.
"We would like a meeting with Tartuk, but we would much rather have you with us. I need to scout these lands around our base. Should be many surprises!"
Vrag grins slyly at Warren as the druid places a hand on his shoulder. "I...do not wish to leave your company." He says thoughtfully and then sighs as if tired. "However, I do not wish to have Tartuk as an enemy either. If possible, I would seek a peace with him and perhaps between your people and the Bone Ravens."
He turns to Anwel and the rest of the group, "I understand the need to destroy such things, it only would have made it easier to convince Tartuk of the danger. Ah well. Perhaps your drawings and words will be enough."
The remainder of the afternoon passes as the party travels back toward the abandoned cabin. After an uneventful night and long days journey, you manage to make it back to the spot where you camped near the old cabin. The sun is dropping behind the tops of the trees creating long shadows that stretch across the small clearing of the campsite and the woods are quiet except for the distant sound of a robin singing into the evening.
"Well let's get this done. Tam, Vrag do you want to come or stay with the horses?" Andrei says gathering the equipment he might need at the cabin.
Warren nods:
"When we visit Tartuk, we see him together. You will tell him you are with us now and we can learn to respect each other. If not allies, we can agree to respect each others intentions and existence."
He adds:
"We have settlers I gave an oath to protect. We need to make sure there are no dangers close to where they are building their homes. You can scout these new lands with us--it will be exciting!"
"Oh, say 'allies,'" teases Anwel. "After everything else that has happened this week, we might as well aim high." Relieved of his mapmaking duties now that the group is back on familiar ground, Anwel has taken the opportunity to simply enjoy the ride. With their return to the trading post fast approaching, he has given some thought about how he wants to come clean to the settlers, but his musings have been tinged with hope rather than dread. After all, it could hardly go worse than his snap on the road! And even if it did, he could point to his letter to show he had always meant to tell them eventually, assuming that Kressle, in Thad's absence, had not dismissed it as indecipherable gibberish and thrown it away.
"I for one would be glad to have everyone along who wants to come," he says, casting a protective spell . "Mostly because I do not know what to expect. What are you looking for, Andrei?"
Vrag starts to get caught up in Warren's enthusiasm for exploration, until he remembers Andrei's question. Grimacing, the bugbear makes a superstitious gesture of warding in the general direction of the cabin. With a slight shake of his head he says, "I still say it is foolhardy to seek out what lurks in that place. Perhaps you thought I was attempting to trick you before, or lure you away so I could escape, but I was not. Something...very bad lives there."
His fists clench as he speaks and the hair rises slightly along his arms showing his general state of agitation. Clearly he doesn't like being seen as afraid, but he is just as clearly extremely nervous or frightened by whatever he thinks dwells in the cabin.
Tams simply shakes his head at the thought of exploring the ruins. "I've no' the talents and skills 'o you folk. I'd jus' be in the way. You need someone to watch the horses, that's what I'll do."
Ready to explore the old cabin, the party carefully moves through the woods following the rough path created by your last visit.
The further into the wood you go, the darker and more oppressive the area feels. It is difficult to spot the cabin in the growing darkness but eventually you come upon the remains. The furthest wall along with the one running north have collapsed. A portion of the nearest wall still stands to just above waist height, but it is mostly overgrown with a variety of vines and shrubs. The chimney leans at a noticeable angle, seemingly ready to collapse at any given moment. A bit of the former roof still covers the interior in the southwest corner near your approach. What looks like the doorway is about twenty paces ahead through the vines and partial wall.
With the ruined structure in view, the stillness of the surrounding area is quite palpable. The usual forest sounds are gone, no birds, no insects, no rodents rustling through the leaves. Simple silence and the faint smell of decay or rot fill the air while the thorny vegetation seems to grab at clothing and limbs with a reckless abandon.
Gorax curses softly as his hand gets caught on a thorny vine while slipping his blade from its scabbard. Imon readies an arrow while Stellan looks at the surrounding area with a frown of concentration.
Shaking his head he whispers quietly, "Something doesn't look right...but I'm not quite sure..."
"It looks exactly right," hisses Anwel, infected by Stellan's quiet. "Exactly as an untouched, unvisited ruin should. But you did visit it, and I presume that when you came here last you did not avoid stepping on the undergrowth. Which is very much untrampled."
Andrei cast light on his sword as they approach. "Odd" he says in reply to Anwel. "Could it be some kind of illusion, or are we dealing with fey or ghosts or something?" Andrei cast detect magic and pauses to let the magic work before going further.
"Its certainly magical... And gets stronger the closer you get to the far corner of the cabin. Out here it looks organic but diseased, the cabin however has blood mixed with that. I don't have any idea what that means, a magical murder or sacrifical alter or something?" Andrei tries to explain.
"It sounds lovely," snarks Anwel, pulling out his bow. "Let us see what happens when something passes the threshold." He takes a single step through the door.
Andrei smiles at Anwel's snark comment and follows him through. "Good evening, anyone home?" he askes as cheerfully as he can muster.
Warren approaches ready to summon help.
Anwel and Andrei step through the doorway, followed closely by the rest of the party. None of the dim evening light that was outside filters through the tangle of vines, leaves, and wild growth that has formed a 'new' roof over the north end of the space where the party entered. Andrei's sword is the only source of light and even it seems diminished as none of the sword's magical illumination actually penetrates the darkness of the south end.
The ground beneath your boots consists of a mix of dead leaves, small branches, and a rough ivory gravel that crunches softly with each step. The debris must be several inches deep because your feet easily sink a finger width or two.
The interior of the walls are covered in numerous fungal growths that form multiple shelving formations all along the old logs of the cabin. Many of the individual caps are over two feet in size and a pale green or moldy yellow color. Large groups of oversize brown, black and red dotted toadstools grow in patches from the floor creating multilevel formations throughout this side of the ruin. The whole area is filled with a sickly sweet scent that is one part honey, one part lily, and one part fresh blood.
"Well so far not so bad. Nothing obviously dangerous or interesting, but anything could be hidden in here." Andrei says and starts pushing some of the debris around with his foot.
"Hey look over here." he says moving to the north wall and try to move the debris with more conviction.
"It may perhaps be best not to touch it," says Anwel. Now that Andrei has pointed it out, he can see the object glinting in the light of Andrei's sword. He attempts to lift it free of the mulch with his magic .
Anwel's magic pulls at the object, at first little happens as it becomes apparent that the object is heavier than originally expected. Putting a little more energy into the spell, reveals a small silver picture frame. Although heavily tarnished, the high quality of the pattern and craftsmanship is still evident.
There does still appear to be an image inside the frame. A painting on wood, although it is too covered in dirt and grime to see anything of the actual image. A bit of careful effort could reveal more.
The back of the frame is stamped in the lower right hand corner with the crest depicting a sailing ship surrounded by six snowflakes and over crossed swords.
Anwel has the frame hover over to Andrei and start to rotate slowly. "Is this what you were were hoping to find?" he says solemnly.
"I don't know. It might have belonged to a relative but I won't know until we clean it up." Andrei reaches out picks the world out of the air and casts Precipitation to clean it.
Andrei spends several seconds to slowly and carefully clean the image revealing the portrait of a young couple standing on a cliff overlooking a port city. She has lovely blue eyes, and long blonde hair done up in a style that was fashionable well over a hundred years ago. Her dress and other accoutrements are also quite dated. A necklace is draped around her neck and stands out against the pale gray of her dress. More strikingly, she is clearly heavy with child. The man is handsome with a clear noble bearing, blue eyes, and dark hair. A sword hangs at his side and a family crest depicting a ship sailing through six snowflakes over crossed swords is embroidered on his jacket which is also cut in a fashion over a century old.
"Well I'm clearly wrong about this belonging to my Aunt, the clothes in this picture are too old for that, but that pendant she is wearing looks like the one we found." Andrei says pulling out the pendant to take a better look.
As he takes a better look and pushes away a few more pieces of dirt a grin crosses his face. My father's stories were right. Then thinking of the events from a couple of days ago he drops to his knees and preys in a whisper.
Looking at his friends he blushes and comes to his feet. "Sorry friends, this is a glorious day. While I am sworn to not tell you why, suffice to say the picture is of my great great great great..." he pause a moment to count "Great grandmother."
Just as Andrei finishes speaking, both Stellan and Udo suddenly turn their attention to the far end of the cabin.
"Gentleman, I don't think we are alone." Whispers Stellan as he peers into the darkness.
"Indeed not." Comes a swift reply in a graveled voice of an old woman who hasn't spoken in a long, long time. "I do not take kindly to thieves and fools. It has been some time since my pet and I have had such a...feast...step through our door."
Upon her last words dozens of vines from the walls and ceiling suddenly animate and quickly form a thick, thorny barrier blocking any hope of a quick retreat in that direction. The sound of something large crawling through the debris on the floor can be heard making it's way swiftly towards the party. Within heartbeats a draconic head and long sinuous body enters the illumination of Andrei's light. Rows of sharp teeth fill its hungry mouth that also emits a sickly, sweet smelling green mist. Its yellow eyes glimmer in the light as it closes in to strike.
"We are not thieves." Andrei says leaving out the part about fools. "I am a desendant of those pictured here and as such have as much if not more right to it as you. Call off your beast, the Goddess won't let me fail today and I have no desire kill you or it without reason."
Thinking quickly, Anwel realizes what seem like half a dozen things at once. The town in the portrait's background is Port Ice, traditional seat of the Surtovas. The crest must mean the couple are noble, either Surtovas themselves, or of subordinate houses. That Andrei's surname is an anagram seems obvious now, and tellingly it points to only one conclusion. He casts the whispering spell to speak privately to Andrei.
"Be assured that your tatzlwyrm poses no threat, voice," he says aloud, drawing an arrow but not firing his bow. "We have slain demons and lost none of our number. Now, shall we talk out our little dispute, or would you prefer to lose your pet for no reason?"
A high pitched whistle pierces the air causing the wyrm to come to an abrupt halt only a few feet from Gorax and Imon whose weapons are drawn and poised to strike.
A fist-sized green tinted orb of light appears overhead, providing enough illumination for you to see a woman standing at the far end of the cabin next to the black mouth of a stairway leading below ground. Her long gray hair is coiled above her head. Her right eye is scarred over and her left seems slightly cloudy. Wrinkles line her face and she stands with a slight stoop, leaning some of her weight on a gnarled hardwood cane. She is dressed in an odd combination of furs and old silk garments that have seen many years of use.
She points to Andrei. "Be careful what you claim." She says with an angered hiss that causes the wyrm to wiggle restlessly. "There are very few who can make that claim, fewer who live. None who live to claim it falsely."
A gnarled hand beckons Andrei forward. "Come before me, if you dare, and prove to me what you say is true."
Andrei frowns at Anwel then turn back to the woman. He steps forward confidently. "I am Andrei Avotrus, 7th of that name, dirrect descendant of Anna shown in this picture."
"That...is a dangerous thing to say. Especially if it is a lie." The witch says quietly while stepping forward. "Let us see if you speak truth."
Her one good eye suddenly glows as she draws a knife and cuts her palm. Quicker than anyone would ever expect, and with a grip like solid iron, she grabs Andrei by the hand and does the same thing. Blood runs from both cuts as she slaps her own palm across Andrei's.
"Blood will know blood." She says. "Blood cannot lie, blood cannot hide, blood will know the truth."
Her words dance through the air, echoing upon each other for several seconds as the old woman enters a short trance. Andrei suffers from a slight tingling sensation in his hand but nothing else. Although he can sense the witch's magic coursing through his veins.
After what seems like hours, but in reality is only a minute or two, the witch hisses softly to herself and releases Andrei's unharmed hand. Her eye opens and she waves the tatzelwyrm back. With surprise filling her voice she says softly, "The blood knows that you speak true. You are my brother's son."
Warren quietly watches the drama unfold as he did with the female warg.
Andrei grimaces a little as he is cut and lets out a sigh when she declares herself his Aunt.
Bugger, the hero kills the evil witch. What story has the hero deal with evil witch who is his Aunt."
Andrei smiles to his Aunt "It is great to see you again Aunt Anastasia. These are my companions." Andrei proceeds to introduce everyone present including the origin of each of them or flowery but short account of something notable that they have done. When she is distracted looking at Warren or one of the other Andrei gives Anwel a frown and a short shake of his head.
"Aunt may I ask, do you have any other relics from the past?"
Anwel dips his head when Andrei introduces him, letting his hair fall in front of his face. He smiles a hidden smile at Andrei's elaborate heralding. "Please forgive my bluster," he says, before backing away to let the family share their reunion.
Anastasia steps back and leans heavily against her familiar who slipped back next to her during the ceremony. Holding a hand to her chest she breathes deeply a couple of times. Quietly she says, "After the boys and Bella died, I thought I was the last."
With a quick shake of her head she recovers her composure as Andrei introduces the rest of the party. When he finishes, she frowns slightly, but then inclines her head in greeting to everyone.
"Hrmmm. I've not had so many visitors in quite a long while. My accommodations are not much, but young Andrei's friends are...welcome in my home." She then turns and starts to walk down the dirt stairway. Her voice trailing behind as she descends into the earth. "I've not much from the past. Most was either stolen, destroyed, or...it become....to painful to harbor such memories. But there is something that would be rightfully yours."