So naivety survived death? "What would you have done if a skeleton or rotting corpse walked up to you and asked directions? Scream like a baby I'd say and I don't think any of us would have acted much differently. If they see us, best they'll do is run screaming but chances are they'll launch a crusade." That, sadly, was the reality of things. Walking, talking corpses were a thing of nightmares, an abomination.
"If we want friendly contact we need to proof ourselves beforehand. And that is if we ever get that far as I think hesitant neutrality is our best hope."
"Agreed. The mere presence of undead in these streets twenty years ago was enough to unite all of us strangers to battle them to the death. I mean they were attacking, but if they all just strolled in and started introducing themselves I doubt it would have gone much differently."
Rumha listens quietly as the arguments fly. "Like it or not, we will have to speak with the mortals at some point. None of us knows what happened... and 20 years underground has made the trail cold. But the living - who clearly have been busy for the last score of years - probably have a far better idea of what happened and who did it. If you want vengeance against our tormentors, we'll need to learn what the living know - one way or another."
What Rumha leaves unstated is the suspicion that someone who was a part of the town's downfall might actually be walking among them... The question was, how to find those people and how to make them talk?
He casts a cool white eye on Cazal and his anonymous clergy - not sure what to make of them save that trusting them entirely was out of the question.
"Can any present weaves spells of disguise, that we might sneak amongst the living and learn what they know?"
Rumha chuckles, "I can, though I don't recall the spell at the moment. We're a few days from this wall, so I'll have time to refresh my memory." He considers briefly while stroking a withered ear, "Unless we plan to scale the wall and approach it from the other side, we'll need a good story for how some hapless farmers accidentally stumbled inside. Perhaps - before we go that route - we should consider scouting the entire perimeter. Maybe the wall isn't finished and we can slip through a gap. At the very least, it would be good to get some estimate of troop locations and strengths. If they have a fortress built, we'll want to know it so we can avoid it."
He casts another glance at Cazal. "I'm assuming you've given some thought to these matters?"
"Yes, scouting the perimeter first is a good idea. I was thinking after that for the infiltration. We have all the time in the world, haste makes ruin. We can afford to spend the time looking before we do anything risky."
Ewen covers the lower half of his face with his scarf and pulls the hood of his cloak over his head. His entire body is now hidden under cloth.
"Clearly everyone present will now be able to determine what or who I am just by glancing at me. This will work especially well from a distance and will not require magical means."
He looks around.
"But if you prefer to run around like something that has just crawled out of a composting bin, that will naturally be a great help in establishing communications. One can try to make things complicated."
Victor scoffs. Cowards, he thinks, crossing his arms. "Do whate'er you please, but they'll come f'r us if we don' go f'r 'em, first." The last von Ulmen stands resolute in front of the crowd.
"How do you intend to mask your smell? We don't exactly smell like roses you know." Cedric grinned and the raven on his shoulder cawed in agreement.
As the warmonger spoke he sighed, "They won't come for us if we don't give them a reason. You intend to give them just that. Be a little patient, we'll find something for you to slam your head against."
Victor's eyes seem to flare even brighter. "Do as ya wish, coward. You'll understan' soon enough," he practically snarls, a haughty look on his face.
"I think you mix up cowardice with common sense." The broad grin reappears on Cedric's face. "Trust me, the only reason I'm against you marching into that wall is because it endangers us all."
"There ain't nothin' common about us, now! Victor preens, spreading his arms wide. "Yer right, we should see how far 'is wall goes. But only because this land is ours now, an' we deserve e'ry inch o' it!"
"What kind of logic is that? This is where I died! This is now mine! You died charging into these weird abominations, and now you want to charge into the unknown again? For what? Just to be smashed to pieces once more?"
Ewen buries his face in his hand for a moment.
"Can we maybe use reason here? Fact: We're standing here in the middle of a destroyed town. Assuming that the divinations done are correct, the incident has happened years ago. Yet we are here. If someone built a wall around the whole region, it does not look like they plan to attack anytime soon. Why would they build a wall? They had ample time to just dispose of everything dead or moving if they had years at their hands. I at least see no imminent danger here. So I say we first and foremost try to find out what happened exactly. This is not how I had imagined "death" and as convenient as my current state may be, I don't plan to just stay like this and accept it without at least trying to do something about it."
"I am already dead, why should I fear death?" Victor poses, his red gaze settling on Ewen. "Ya can ask questions an' be indecisive 'til th' next moon, it ain't gonna change th' fact that unless we go lookin' f'r it, we'll ne'er figure out what happened here! Just dust an' broken buildin's! That wall," the Gravebound oracle shouts, pointing in the direction he believes the wall to be, "is a symbol o' those tryin' to box us in, contain us!
" he finishes, his eyes flaring brightly in the dusk, hands raised above his head, his claws gleaming in the last of the sunlight.
Ewen raises his hands in defense:
"Alright big guy, I get it. Calm down. Kill whatever you want as long as it's not me."
Muttering silently:
"For crying out loud..."
Cedric mumbles, "Can we kill him now, please can we kill him."
Cedric walks further towards the front, "You will doom us all. We may be dead already but that doesn't mean we can't be destroyed. What will happen to you when they tear your body to pieces? We already concluded our souls are missing and as such there will be left of you when they destroy you. Use the bit of your brain that hasn't shrivelled away over the years." He walks further towards the front, "That wall is a symbol of nothing but people on the other side wanting to protect themselves from the unknown. It's best if it stays unknown so keep down the theatrics."
"I don' expect ya cowards to understan' me. Cower in yer deadlands f'r as long as ya like," the oracle speaks, before shoving his way back through the crowd to leave. "Victor von Ulmen laughs at yer weakness! Live in fear, yer foolish ways'll git ya all dead, anyways!" Victor bodily pushes people out of the way as he leaves the congregation, laughing ruefully the whole way.
Cazal catches up with Victor as he leaves.
"I understand where you are coming from my friend. However, I have no wish to throw my second chance at life to the wolves, so to speak. I'm more inclined to try and first see just what this wall consists of... and then perhaps seek diplomatic solutions. It was not the makers of the wall who killed us, and the means for our revenge may lie beyond it. Let us build new walls, not tear down old ones."
Victor shrugs at the man. "Show, don't tell. When ya can prove t' me that yer way'll work, I'll follow ya. But I don' believe in nothin' I can't see with me own eyes, an' that ain't changed in death." He cracks his neck, a painful sound of bone-on-bone. "An' remember, Victor von Ulmen bows t' no man, dead or alive," the oracle states, smirking. "Strength is th' only altar I pray at, Power is th' only currency I give a damn about."
"And if you die? If you're shot down? Would you throw your new life away? What would that accomplish!?"
Victor's grin becomes almost manic, "Why, I'll go out havin' fun!"
Cazal watches Victor head back to wherever's he's heading with a dismayed look on his face.
He returns to the center of town.
"I can only hope rash actions do not cause us to suffer anymore than we already have..."
Amused, Kobayashi watches the armored hulk go.
"Hm. Discord is good. It'll keep us honest. If we all decide to go one direction just because it's convenient, we'll be no different from a cult."
He walks over to Cazal, his dark hood facing the undead leader. "It looks like you have your hands full of new objectives and ideas, Cazal, but like our armored friend I require convincing of your abilities as a leader. You've certainly managed to bring us here successfully, so that's a start, but not even close to the finish line.
Nonetheless, our interests seem to coincide for the moment. I am proficient with disguises and a can move with incredible stealth. I can also handle myself pretty well should things go sour. If we are going to attempt diplomacy or scouting, I'd like to offer my services."
Sensing the opportunity to speak again, Varus walks forwards once more.
"I also am best employed scouting the land and will leave heading east this time as soon as this meeting is over. I will leave the defense of this town to those more knowledgeable on such matters."
"Kobayashi, perhaps if we go different directions to cover the most ground? Or perhaps together in case we encounter a patrol or other difficulty."
"In my experience, it is foolhardy to brave the unknown alone. Together would be best. And your name is...?"
"Varus. Ranger at your service."
"We may be able to get a closer and better look when it is night also. What say we take the brute with us, get him out of town and doing something."
"I will go with you Kobayashi. You're alright. I want to watch your back. Just because we haven't seen anything hostile to us inside the wall, doesn't mean its not there. Most of these people are just commoners I suppose. Same as they were in life. Why don't you get them organized and start to build us a new home Cazal? A fort perhaps? There's 20 years worth of chopped wood right over there, ready for use." Bernd says, pointing back the way he came from.
The cleric is introspective about the chaos of the preceding minutes. "Well, at least we've found common ground with the living. Dead or alive - people don't cooperate." His rictus smile shows it was something of a joke, then he turns serious. "Before more of us go stomping off..." he looks to Koba, Varus, and Bernd, "perhaps we should hear what Cazal has to say? I'd also like to know what's the story behind the grey robes."
"I will join you on the recon, it's more use than listening to more rants. This place needs to be cleaned up and made suitable for inhabitation again but I think there are other who are more skilled than me." That and his own home was fully intact.
"Bah. Cazal's clearly a civilian. He can lead these dregs if he wants, but I'm a warrior now. In life I spent all my time working and keeping my head down, bowing to others. I was too scared and depressed to fight, even though I knew how. No longer! The only kinds of relationships I will have in death are voluntary associations. If Cazal has something to say, he'd better say it quick. We've got a lot of ground to cover." Bernd says, looking to the would-be leader of the dead. He crosses his arms and waits for Cazal to speak, if he has anything to say.
Cazal replies:
"I, I meant no disrespect... I hardly think I should be a leader. I just think that we should think before we leap... There are many here who simply want nothing more than to be left alone and calling down the wrath of others may not be the way..."
Ewen throws his arms in the air:
"Well isn't that exactly what I've been saying? Why is no one taking me serious? Is it because I'm small? I may be small but I'm not stupid! Can we please draft a plan on who should be doing what? We already have some volunteers who want to do more reconnaissance. Well, sounds like a good start to me. What else should be done right now?"
"Cazal, you plan to establish some sort of foothold or what did you mean by rebuilding our lands?"
"So please, someone take charge, assign tasks and get on with it. Or we just split up and everyone goes their way. Either is fine by me, it's not like I care much."
He crosses his arms before his chest and waits for an answer.
gods curse you all...
He steps away from the crowd and turns to them.
"Rebuild your town if you wish! If any guards have risen, patrol your town. If you can use a weapon, find one and keep it with you. Those who previously administered the town," he looks around at Cazal and his cloaks also, "get your town organised again as our man here has just said."
Then turning to Cazal, "Lead this town if you wish. We will bring back scouting information and intelligence in a week or two and we'll have a better idea of what we are up against. Can your diviners give us any other information?"
Cazal blinks then nods his head.
"I... I believe I can do that. We will need a home. I believe the people would listen to me. As for my diviners, you'll need to talk to Avaryth, she's the one with the... umm... half-face? You'll see what I mean when you talk to her. I'll go about and see whose capable of rebuilding. If we go about this quickly, we may have a home before you return."
Satisfied to have achieved something Varus smiles at Cazal. "That would indeed be fast. We'll probably need as many warriors and mages as possible if the time comes."
Turning to Ewan and the others that are there, "Shall we prepare to set out? Does anyone have a grappling hook? I have an idea...
"Yes, Build us a home Cazal. That is perfect. I don't have a grapple, sorry."
"Oh, I have a grappling hook alright."
Kobayashi brandishes the hooked item that he has drawn from his backpack.
"Hmmmm... A home? Sounds fine and dandy, but don't let yourself get too attached! 'If something seems too good to be true, it probably is." Even in death, your words are golden to me, Chuko."
As the grappling hook is brandished Varus' eyes gleam.
Turning to the grey cloaks he picks out Avaryth and asks, "Is there any clues you have been able to find regarding those that did this 20 years ago? A slight sense of where they might be or how to find them? As long as they are far from here for the moment."
too bad about your face...
Her face looks simply torn apart, as if some monstrous force had gone to it with fang and claw. Dents in her skull are also visible.
"As to why... I cannot say. The gods are not as readily helpful as they once were, but I was able to divine that the enemy are daemons... By the aging of Belisaire, I'd say that after their initial assault they were either defeated or they left... the latter I'd wager, as there are no daemon corpses left..."
daemons... hmm...
Varus pauses in thought.
"Quite powerful daemons I would guess? I think not any daemon can command the destruction that we witnessed."
To Rumha and the others there, "know anything about powerful daemons?"
Rumha wracks the dark secrets of his mind, searching for any information on Daemons.
Harbingers of ruin and embodiments of the worst ways to die, daemons epitomize painful death, the all-consuming hunger of evil, and the utter annihilation of life. While demons seek to pervert and destroy in endless unholy rampages, and devils vex and enslave in hopes of corrupting mortals, daemons seek only to consume mortal life itself. While some use brute force to despoil life or prey upon vulnerable souls, others wage campaigns of deceit to draw whole realms into ruin. With each life claimed and each atrocity meted out, daemons spread fear, mistrust, and despair, tarnishing the luster of existence and drawing the planes ever closer to their final, ultimate ruin. Notorious for their hatred of the living, daemons are the things of dark dreams and fearful tales, as their ultimate ambitions include extinguishing every individual mortal life—and the more violent or terrible the end, the better. Their methods vary wildly, typically differentiated by daemonic breed. Many seek to infiltrate the mortal plane and sow death by their own taloned hands, while others manipulate agents (both mortal and immortal) as malevolent puppet masters, instigating calamities on massive scales from their grim realms. Such diversity of methods causes many planar scholars to misattribute the machinations of daemons to other types of fiends. These often deadly mistakes are further propagated by daemons’ frequent dealings with and manipulation of other outsiders. Yet in all cases, despair, ruin, and death, spreading like contagion, typify the touch of daemonkind, though such symptoms often prove recognizable only after the hour is far too late.
Essentially, you know something. If you are ready to set out, just let me know where and who's going.
Kobayashi shall accompany the expedition, eager to move past this discussion.
Seeing that everyone has come to a general consensus, Bernd decides the sheep need a shepherd. "Alright, lets get this scouting mission going. Cazal can handle things here. If you're coming follow me."
He begins to jog in the direction that Varus indicated the wall was in. This never getting tired thing kicks ass. He thinks as he runs at a pace that he couldn't have kept up for more than a mile while he was still alive.