Keshik inhales sharply at what he thinks is coming.
Uh... you'll be safe now, okay? Just uhh, stay here for now.
Roldare stares blankly for a second. He stops reaching for the crossbow, but lets out what is first a quiet wail, growing into what is more of a scream, clawing at his face, backing up against the wall and rolling over into a ball on the floor. It's not clear that he's actually taken in the news as such; simply that any form of hope has suddenly departed from him.
"Cold ... so cold ... not fair to be this cold at the end of my days ...", he whispers, through the sobs.
Irgal marches up to Roldare. "Roldare, this is not the end of your days. Erastil has seen fit to send us to clean up this mess, and as we have watched him utterly demolish piles of walking bones as we ventured into here, as we successfully made it to you, we are still more than a mere pack of children. Between Jaer's guile, Harken's back, Ka'narg's expertise, Illya-Nim's will, and Keshy's fervor, you'll find that we've got more strength on our side than one might expect. We may not be the team you sought, but we are the team you'll need. Now, you can join us and let us protect you as we save Dimira, or you can stay here and hide and keep yourself safe, but we are all pulling together, and Erastil has decreed: you will not die today."
Clearly impatient, Irgal adds, "Now, we need to keep going. We have a fire to fetch, and our fellow villagers to save!"
Keshik will step to the side of Roldare and crouch down to be at eye level.
You'll be safe okay? No-one's gonna hurt you or your friends anymore.
Still crouching by the distraught man, Ka'narg has gone a visible shade of sickly pale green. "Roldare, I am sorry for upsetting you - that wasn't what I wanted. Listen, we have to go find Dimira now, which means we have to leave you in here for a short while." he says, as he reaches for something around his neck. A wooden amulet of a leaf with dew spilling from it dangles from a leather cord that he slips over his head and places it in his palm.
"This was my fathers, he was a priest of Gozreh and he gave this to me before he passed on. He said that I would always have the strength to go on without him so long as I had this, and it has worked for me so far. I am giving this to you as you need that strength now far more than I." Ka'narg places the amulet on the ground next to Roldare and stands up, a grim expression on his face.
Roldare Look at me, i'm not going to let anyone else die. She stares at him her solid black wide eyes unblinking. We will find whatever is doing this and end it, simple as that. All you need to do is be strong She says with an uncharacteristic smile.
"Look buddy, when you get out of here you need to learn how to protect yourself and your sister...with a weapon and not just good intentions. I can teach you after I go get your sister and the flame and go back to town. Just buck up and make it to the end." Harken tells him in his best caring voice...
Roldare sits slowly up, looks up at the group, starting with Illya, and nods.
"I understand, or I think I do, though the voices and the things I've seen still speak and bleed in my head.", he says, "I will wait here. I can't go home without Dimira, and I can't face those things again. If you have a tent or blankets to leave, it would help me. I've been very cold these last few nights."
He stares at the amulet Ka'narg has placed on the ground. "Here, if you are to go and save my sister, we should swap bows." He hands Ka'narg the crossbow he's so recently been holding close. It bears the maker's mark of a master weaponsmith from Tamaran. "I bought it a while back from an adventurer down on his luck. May it bring you the luck it's withheld so long, in the name of your father."
He picks up the amulet, lifts it and places it around his neck, managing a frail smile. "And you need to know this, Brother Zeth". Now he looks shakily at Irgal. "We didn't have time to bind all the traps. Be careful. You'll need the shields and the keys. And you may need to go swimming."
Finally he looks at Harken. "Tell Krayl I'm sorry, though it probably means little to him now. Tell him we all were. We shouldn't have left him, but he made us in the end. He was to marry Dimira when the sun returned. It would have been a lovely wedding."
Eyes once more downcast, he pulls back to a corner of the room, and sits there, holding himself close.
Ka'narg turns the finely crafted weapon over in his hands, noting the quality. He unhooks his own light crossbow and passes it back with a slightly apologetic look about its quality. He also removes his backpack and opens it. "Here is a tent and some torches as well, if they will help," he states, as he also divests himself of enough gear in order to lighten the load of his pack.
Keshik will follow suit.
Alright everyone. Lets go. We have a real test now don't we? If we end up needing to swim for something, I can deal with that.
Illya turns away from Roldare and toward the door Let's go we have some work to do Her voice suddenly cold as if her previous kindness was nothing more than a facade.
Harken puts his tent, bedroll and anything else not needed to heft an axe or hold a shield or kill a foe in the room with the man. Then Harken follows the others out towards danger.
"Lets," Jaer concurs, readying to leave with the rest, teeth gnawing at her cheek. With a family of Pathfinders to her name, the Halfling has never really known how to properly react to such grave misfortunes; in fact her first instinct is not to do so at all, but to press on to the matter at hand before her nerves find her fingers and ruin their chance of success entirely.
Before leaving, Jaer gives a final look back to Roldare as she clips the silver lantern back onto her pack. "Take care, y' hear? This tale's sodden enough without more tears."
...and Gods know there'll be more than enough of that to come.
Taking her leave, Jaer begins to make the trek deeper into the crypt, careful to observe for any further triggers and traps given the knowledge that future failings might result in something a little more dire than an impromptu introduction to piles of cloth and fluff.
"Any way we know which path's seen more traffic?" She asks, though not to any one in particular. "It'd be as good a lead as any, I guess."
"I can take a look, though the fact we have been through here as well may have damaged any tracks that were here."
Kanarg crouches by the close intersection, looking down the corridor to see if any recent traffic - human or otherwise - has traversed recently.
Harken points to the first corridor, the southern one.
Irgal holds onto his belongings and wishes Roldare well. "We'll be back, with Dimira, then we can all get out of here. Thank you for the warning regarding the traps. We'll be careful."
Ka'narg can see traffic from several groups of skeletons, which Roldare obviously managed to fend off as they besieged the room. They came - probably at different times - via both routes, but there's nothing gone in the opposite direction.
There's a single human track, presumably Roldare himself and again only going in the direction of the room. That came from the southern passage.
Jaer, going on ahead, tries the northern passage first. It bends south, then continues to the west. It concludes in a locked door, which has no obvious open mechanism or lock to pick. It looks like it's probably only viable from the other side.
The southern passage ends in a door, which looks like it should just open.
In both cases, skeleton tracks run under the doors.
"Looks like there are skeleton movements from under both doors - so either way, we're likely to encounter resistance. I say we go for the nearest door to Roldare. At least that way we can keep as much of the attention on us rather than him."
"Got it." Jaer nods, her short sword firm in hand as she carefully attempts to peer ahead.
The door opens easily and without anything untoward happening.
This small chamber is mostly empty, save for a human body sprawled in the centre. Perched atop the corpse is a man-sized brown and yellow beetle, trying to push the corpse into the corner where a pile of trash and filth awaits.
In the south-west corner of the room, stairs descend into darkness. And to the south, there's an open door, with some kind of light occasionally flickering in the corridor beyond. A rancid smell of burning oil emanates from that direction, not so strongly as you enter the room, but clearly discernible.
As the party moves into the room, the beetle rears up, as if to attack.
The beetle turns towards Jaer and lunges at her, trying to trap her in its mandibles. But she's deft enough to dodge out of the way, easily.
"Yikes!" Jaer calls, ducking away from the sudden attack and dropping both her folding pole and pack. Glancing at her sword in comparison to the creature ahead, she shakes her head, muttering, "Massive bug. Great. Awesome."
That said, the Halfling springs precariously into action, attempting to maneuver around the oversized vermin, to better find purchase within its chitin.
Looking again to the large creature, Jaer stands her ground, adjusting the grip of her short sword as her eyes scan for an opening; or at least the chance to make one. "Any time you feel like joinin' in, Lady and Gents!"
Harken rushes past all land lubbers when he hears the wee one yell out...coming into the room he sees the beetle and readies his shield and axe...
Keshik charges into the room with his scythe held high, sparking on the stone walls once or twice before striking out at the bug.
Eeeww, we have bugs like this back home, they're so gross. He says almost whining.
Ka'narg steadily walks into the room that is becoming more and more crowded by the second. He sidles against the wall, past Harken, and if the creature is still alive, he swings at it with his double axe.
The party takes the opportunity to surround the bug and pile into it; it falls under the flurry of blows.
The corpse at the centre of the room is the charred body of a human female, who seems from her dress to have been another of Kassen's citizens.
Unceremoniously booting the beetle's chitin aside, Jaer's face falls at the sight of another body, the sheer state of it drawing a long, weary hiss from between the Halfling's teeth.
"C...C'mon, man..." she whines, leaning on her knees as she looks over the corpse. "That's not fair."
In the north-east corner of the room, there's the beginnings of a nest that the beetle seems to have been building. It looks like it was in the act of dragging the body toward it, and the trail seems to lead from and through the door to the south. It's been dead about two days. It seems to have been killed in the same manner as the other bodies you've encountered in the crypt - probably by the skeletons - then burned subsequently. There's no treasure or gear worth taking from anything in the room.
You don't recognise the body, given its state, but from the description Roldare gave this could well be that of Shelyn.
"Who's raising those skeletons?" Irgal seethes. Unfamiliar with the amount of death of his fellow citizens around him, he grows furious. "When I get to the bottom of this, I swear, I will unleash Deadeye's justice upon them!"
Keshik winces seeing the scene of the body, and again at his companions voices. Relinquishing his grip on his blade.
This isn't right is it?... But, that's what we're here for now. We're gonna stop this grave talker. He doesn't seem like he'd listen to reason, I guess. Keshik's face brightens up So that's what we'll do won't we? We'll kick this guys butt. Deal?
He leaves the room to wait for the others, picking up his scythe on the way back out.
Whoever is doing this will die, i hate necromancy A look of disgust on her face.
Ka'narg ponders a little and looks at the two options. "While I am just as keen to deliver vengeance on this grave walker, I would also rather ensure that nothing remains on this level to come in from behind to impede our escape or to attack Roldare while we are nowhere near to help. My vote is for continuing south."
The quicker we end this Grave talker thing the quicker whatever is left will die. I vote we go west
Just to get a jab against the ranger, Harken says to the others "I agree with the white haired witch here. Going west may prove beneficial."
"Very well then - but if something eats Roldare's face before we have a chance to leave, on your heads be it. Let's go."
The burning smell in the room you're leaving is getting stronger.
Nevertheless, the party descends the stairs to the west. They follow a short tunnel, then find another set of stairs, still heading west and actually re-ascending to the same level on which they started. They find themselves in a large room, one half which has a lowered floor, with stairs on either side to reach the bottom. At the southern end of the chamber is a tall wooden statue of Kassen grasping a gigantic wooden shield in each hand. One of the shields is inscribed with the word “home,” while the other reads “family.”
There are doors at the northern and southern ends of the room.
Just to get a jab?? What has Ka'narg done to offend him so?
For the record technically i'm not a witch, my power is my own.the white haired mage says casually
"There's a difference?" Jaer asks loosely, hauling herself back to her none-too-impressive height before once again retrieving her goods. The nuances of magic have never really been her thing. Too many numbers, graphs, and a distinct lack of arcane talent had always kept the supernatural as some distant, foreign skill. A tooth gnaws at her lip as she glances again towards the southern door, the smell of char and soot apparently growing stronger.
"That...doesn't bode well," she mutters, nonetheless accompanying the party as they descend further still into the crypt.
A low, slow whistle ebbs free as her eyes and lantern-light cascade over the statue's form. "Whassat the man said? Something 'bout 'shields and keys'?" she says, casting a look to the rest of the room.
a minor difference but yes. Witches typically are more connected with specific forces and must commune with a familiar, my power as said is more natural more connected with my emotions and current mental state, also unlike some mages i need not study nor pray She explains
"Bah! Skills of a seidr. Give me a stout axe over some magik tricks any day. Witches, Warlocks, Wizards, Sorcerers all the same to me. Just glad you are on our side for when we do fight another seidr. Only magik can defeat magik..."
"Magic must defeat magic." Oh yeah, the relic shaman in my tribe used to say that. He was cranky. Did you know it hurts to get hit in the ear with two fingers? I found that out when some of the humans came over to visit us.
Wait, aren't satyr's goat guys?
Keshik prattles on making little use of what would be his own ears.