At examining this area, there doesn't seem to be any current threat.
"This is a bit odd looking," Ry'klead says, crouching down near a body with a broken jaw. Using two fingers of his clawed hand, the aberration peers into the corpses mouth. "Curiousior and curiousior, completely stripped, down to the teeth? Robbers, here? I guess it's close enough to a way station, but odd." Ry'klead stands back up from where he was squatting down near the corpse. The Half-Blood moves from body to body, looking for signs of decay. He clearly isn't bothered by the corpses, more intrigued.
"So what killed you?" Ry'klead squats near another corpse peering at the fatal wound. "Not your average bandit was it? No, something more interesting struck you down didn't it? Don't be shy, you can tell your friend Ry'klead, I can keep a secret, I assure you," the aberration asks the body.
Ry'klead seems strangely fascinated by the seen of the slaughter. The strange man stands, his head cocked slightly to the left, eyes moving from body to body. Whether or not it was because it was something new and distracting, or because it was a new puzzle was anybody's guess. It was clear he didn't seem shaken up or particular bothered. The handsome humanoid blinks several times and looks over at the others in the party. The look in his eyes was as if he had almost forgotten that they were there.
"Sorry, I'm used to traveling alone. Anybody figure out anything interesting?" Ry'klead asks with a half grin on his face. He points at a nearby corpse with his clawed hand. "They aren't being very cooperative as to telling me what killed them.[b]" The way Ry'klead speaks seems to suggest that conversing with the dead isn't unusual for him.
|
Rolando nods at Bertholds words
"Si, senor. These could have been our compatriots, once. Tracks head east, following the stones. Humanoids and a cart, but it could have been yesterday or years ago. There is no telling in the Mournland."
Rolando shrugs,
"We go that way, so we keep an eye out, but we do that anyway, si?"
a thought crosses his mind, and he turns to Count Evaille,
"Do we have time to bury the bodies? It is no right to just leave them here. I can offer a blessing in the name of Olladra."
There are a couple of dozen bodies, so it will be a major operation. "I suppose that taking time to give these soldiers some dignity is time well spent."
He will roll up his sleeves and help out. There are shovels in the stores and they'll begin the work.
Eloith understands the sometimes futile reaction to loss. if you've got a spare shovel, I can help.
Gloria stands and bows her head.
"If there be glory in war, let it rest on these poor souls. I will gladly help."
She placed her pole-arm back into its strapping on her back. She hated war, but she sympathized with the lower people who took part. It was never their fault and they were never the evil ones.
|
|
For once, Rolando is quite silent, diligently working away at digging the graves, only the occasional glint of a tear in his eyes hinting at the emotion he is holding back.
As the last body is buried, Rolando raises his hands in supplication. As he speaks, the tears begin to roll down his face as the raw emotion is loosed.
"I no know who these men were. Once, they were real people, with lives and loves, friends and family; now they are the remains of a war long since past. Many of us know of comrades who fell, and we were not able to bury them; well we can bury these; let them stand in the place of those we have left behind. Their luck has run out; ours continues; but let us not forget in our fortune that not all are so fortunate. Lady Olladra, I no know if any of these were yours, but I bless them now in your name and in the name of the Sovereign Host. May their fortunes continue in the next world."
"I'll keep watch with madam Quay on the spider," Ry'klead says as he turns and moves to the spider. Climbing gracefully to the top of the gnomish machine, the aberration watches as the graves are being dug in the hard ground. Turning his attention to actually keeping watch, Ry'klead sways slightly as if blown by a faint breeze.
"No, Xor'Xic, I don't really understand why they bury the dead," the Half-Blood half whispers to himself atop the machine. "Perhaps Madam Quay can offer us an explanation."
Squatting down, Ry'klead taps at an access port with his claws.
"Madam Quay, I have a question for you," the handsome aberration smiles warmly once the gnome opens a portal to speak with him. "What is the significance of burying the dead? Especially since these might just be explorers?" Ry'klead keeps his pleasant sounding voice low, clear he would prefer the others to not hear this particular conversation. It would require more explanations. He hated giving explanations, they were so boring. 'Well, at least for me,' he thinks to himself.
The voice coming up through the speaking tube seems confused at first, but Quay soon gets into the academic ideal. "umm... Well, there's the practical reasons. After all, you don't want corpses laying around stinking up the place. It can spread diseases and attract scavengers. So most people would either bury the dead or burn them. Burial gives you a place to memorialize them, and having the corpse allows the person to be resurrected or consulted. It's become a tradition, and you know how hard it is to dislodge traditions."
As the burial is ending, Alvar will get a board and mark it with charcoal. Here lie 27 unknown souls. Found looted, buried Eyre 28, 998 YK. May they find peace beyond this world.
When all are done, he nods at all of them and the group begins to move on.
"Hmmm, fire would be quicker then burial I think. Less chance for necromancy and other unpleasantness," Ry'klead's eyes are far away as he looks into the mist as the dig goes on. "Some traditions should be forgotten." The strange man mutters mostly to himself.
True to his word, the aberration did keep watch as they dug the 27 graves. While keeping guard, Ry'klead hums off and on to himself. Several times, it almost sounds like there is a second voice humming along the handsome humanoid. He stays a top the Quay spider, occasionally pacing back and forth.
At the end of it all, Ry'klead catches the glare that Bertholdt sends his way. Head cocked to the right, he puzzles over why the human was angry with him. 'Perhaps he is angry that we didn't help,' Ry'klead thinks to his half-brother. Xor'Xic gives the mental equivalent of a shrug, he didn't know either.
Once they begin moving, Ry'klead hops off the spider and continues walking.
After the work on the burial had been done, Gloria wiped the sweat from her brow. She nodded at Bertholdt's comment before throwing her pole-arm over her shoulder and continuing forward.
"You know, warlock. You don't have to understand. Just have respect."
|
|
Once they are under way, Rolando will seek an opportunity to have a quiet word with Ry'Klead.
"Thank you, senor, for keeping watch while we buried the dead. The others are cross because you dishonour our dead, but they will come round, senor. Just give them time and they will realise it was necessary."
"No problem, I'm used to being on guard," Ry'klead says with an odd half grin. The prettiest aberration in the land hooks a clawed thumb over his left shoulder, vaguely in the direction of the graves.
"I'm just not convinced that they were fallen soldiers, that's all. Especially, this far from the Occurrence that transformed the land into what it is," Ry'klead checks the claws of his gauntlet as if he was cleaning dirt from underneath his fingernails. "It just makes me curious to know what happend."
"Of course, I could be wrong," the humanoid shrugs his shoulders. "It happens from time to time."
After a short rest, the troop continues on. As you travel, Rolando catches sight of a figure in the mist on the right who sees them and immediately pulls back. It seemed to be humanoid but he didn't catch any details before the figure retreated.
"If scouting is what you're doing, I can come along in case things gets nasty."
"Tracking sounds better, not to mention a bit safer for the scouts," Ry'klead says quietly, looking into the mists. "Wandering around in the Mists never ends with happy tales. Besides, the locals might have a better advantage in the Mists then strangers."
"Tracking sounds great if you have the skill for it. I can sneak and I can kill. I will gladly do either if necessary."
Eloith joins the stealthy advanced group, taking up a position immediately behind Rolando.
Gloria follows about 30 feet behind Rolando, her pole-arm very close by, as she does her best to make as little noise as she can manage.
So Rolando, Gloria and Eloith upfront, Bertholdt, Ry'klead next and the apparatus in the rear?
Keeping the scout group within sight, Ry'klead remains close to the Quay spider. He figured that the noise of the gnomish invention would mask any noise he would make.
Other than looking around a bit more frequently, Ry'klead appears to be out for a stroll in the woods.
As they track the figure, Rolando sees that the tracks are from a booted humanoid figure. The tracks seem a little shallow, as if the figure was lighter than you'd expect.
A little further down the path crosses a set of tracks all going left to right across the path. Many, many people have followed that going in the same direction. The many tracks over each other cover how many there are. Most of them are booted, but Rolando and Eloith each notice that a few of the tracks are different.
Ry'klead looks to see if they've kept the Grounding Stones for the Lightning Rail in sight. The aberration hoped that they weren't veering from there only real landmarks that they had.
As they travel farther from their intended path, the sharp-eyed scouts see a trench and pallisade ahead of them at the edge of visibility. It looks like what soldiers would put up as a temporary camp. Gloria thinks there's a form behind it.
Gloria whistles just loud enough for the lead scouts to hear, but hopefully no one beyond that. She catches up to them and points through the mist at the figure she sees and then points at her own eyes, signaling that she sees something.
A quick check around shows that they have cleared the area around the palisade. However, the Mist is not under their control thicker patches seem to drift around randomly. while it's not particularly thick now, it's only a matter of time.
Rolando also finds the gate, which seems to be flanked by two guards.
Back by the spider, Ry'klead squints trying to make out what the advance scouts had seen. The handsome aberration sighs to himself.
"This would be so much easier if we were in their minds," Ry'klead mutters to himself with a shake of head. "What a silly design flaw in their makeup." The aberration sighs once more.
Instead, he was forced to wait for them to report back as to what they had spied. 'On the bright side, you can always follow the metal spider footprints back to the path,' comes the thought from his brother.
"This is true," Ry'klead mutters to himself.
"Any idea what's going on?" Ry'klead whispers to Bertholdt. "I can't see anything, how about you?" the aberration asks. Glancing over his shoulder at Quay's spider, he shrugs his shoulder.
"I wonder if the spider has any extra senses other than the drivers own senses. What do you think?" the almost human whispers to Bertholdt once more.
As the scouting group converses, the mist gets slightly thicker. They can barely hear the *hiss, step* of the spider in the distance, but it stops, apparently waiting for a signal.
"True, we haven't heard screams so things must be going well," Ry'klead whispers to Bertholdt. The handsome aberration looks around, noticing the mist was beginning to thicken. This could both aid and hinder them. 'How very like the Mournlands, more temperamental then a pregnant orc,' Ry'klead thinks to himself with a grin.
As they sneak forward, they get a better view of the guard walking the palisade. The figure is wearing a tattered Karnathi uniform. what it isn't wearing is any flesh. It seems to be a skeletal warrior. It doesn't seem that it has noticed you.
Gloria falls in, keeping close to Rolando. When she sees the true nature of the guard, she quietly whispers to Her comrades.
"Skeletons? We should deal with this threat before it deals with us."
