Klodd belches deeply sitting at the table, picking his teeth with a not-so-clean sliver of wood, and dot's the thread.
Having eaten the fresh bread presented him (foregoing the cheese, honey, and mead for various reasons), Irathes, lies down on the floor, on his back and communes with his spell poppet to finish preparing spells, as he is unsure of what their coming day holds.
Adonnenniel's eyes still have not stopped shining from the moment she was hired onto the caravan. Before she was just traveling, but now she was adventuring. Even with the sudden end of the caravan job, her spirit had not dampened.
After all, she thought, here I am in this modest, perhaps even... and as she thought the word, a hint of a smile started to grow on her face ...seedy inn.
And then there was the group. She looked at them, all so peculiar. She had long since decided they were a bunch of ravenous murderers, looking for the first opportunity to kill. It was all so exciting.
She sat back, and enjoyed the moment. She had earned the right to relax and take in this adventure. After all, she had finally found who she had been looking for.
Telthes sat back eating his food, unsure when the next meal would be.
The thunder made not the witch twitch, as he was not afraid of the hand of Charon, but when he heard "Witch Tower" and "fallen" in the same sentence, he was roused from his communion-turned-nap.
He remembers learning a great deal about this tower and its significance, when he studied with the coven in Thuvia.
"I doubt our weapons will be of much use, but perhaps we should investigate?"
Perception
Perception
"Weapons are always of some use" Klodd replies deftly returning the two he had been using for eating to one of his bandoleers. "I'm already on the way". "Say Barkeep"! "What can you tell us about this Witchtower...and what might be going on over there"?
Adonnenniel finishes her drink and starts getting ready to go.
Erynion looks up from his book at the unexpected noise.
Salutations my new friends! How is ev- What is everyone heading towards? Is there a festival outside? I do so enjoy festivals!
He gets up and heads outside with everyone else.
Ady, what's going on here?
"It sounded like a landslide. It seems some sort of tower has fallen over."
"Having come this far, perhaps we should go with them to find out what Hunclay knows?"
"Yes, I would like very much to address this man. A wizard thinks a local landmark is an eyesore, and suddenly it collapses for no apparent reason...suspicious by anyone's reckoning."
Look, victims! Well, bodies, in any case.
Erynion heads over to check out the scaly corpses in the rubble.
Adonnenniel follows Erynion, to examine the bodies.
Telthes remains with the group. Silently following.
"Scales?" Irathes questions as he examines those bodies that his friends had begun healing, "these are probably the Kobolds who are rumored to have been populating the tower of late. Are you certain healing is the correct course of action? They aren't known for their gratitude...Besides," he adds, "it seems the Boatman has already taken them in any case."
Knowing his comrades would likely be wary of it, Irathes suppressed his praise of Charon, as the death of any creature was a cause for celebration to his followers.
"Silly, I'm not trying to heal them. At this point I imagine they are beyond any mundane help I could provide. I am just trying to discern the cause of death, which I suspect will be a tower falling on them. But, as this is an adventure, any clues we can discover will be helpful."
Boatman? What does that remind me of?
Hmm. Well, as they appear to have passed on, I suppose there is little to be done to assist them. Perhaps there is something else among the wreckage though...
Erynion begins to sift through the wreckage, looking for anything unusual.
Irathes
When finished with the bodies, Adonnenniel begins looking as well, but keeps an eye on the crowd waiting to join any delegation that heads over to see Hunclay.
Just to be different Klodd refuses to perceive, anything, and just watches the crowd and picks his teeth.
Adonnenniel returns to the crowd to see what the wizard will have to say for himself.
Erynion takes a pretty good look at the foundations and wreckage.
I will catch up momentarily, my fellows.
Irathes follows the group, eager to investigate this suspicious wizard.
Telthes follows curious to see if this wizard knows anything.
After examining the building, Erynion heads over to the wizard's residence to join the others.
I believe the destruction of the tower was a rather well-planned affair, rather than any sort of accident. If my nose does not betray me, in fact, it was brought down by a series of conflagrations by someone fairly knowledgeable, although they may have made some miscalculations while mixing their formulations, adding more accelerant which increased the yield of the mixture past what was strictly necessary to bring the building down. You see, I learned a small amount about alchemy, theoretically of course, from an Ifrit in Katapesh--Ady, I believe I wrote you about this--and we spent many a long night experimenting...
Erynion continues to prattle on long past the point that anyone is paying attention.
Irathes, seeing the work of magic in the Goblin's corpse--another cause for celebration he must ignore--speaks the words for "Detect Magic" in Necril holding one hand over his eyes, the other out toward the manor.
Erynion's ears perk up at the sound of a new language.
That's a new one to me, dare I ask what you were speaking there? I'm fairly well traveled in area but I can't say I've heard it before.
"The tongue is known as Necril, the language of the undead," Irathes explains, "it was taught to me by the spirits of a mortuary cyclone, which have since taken to reside in this," he holds abreast his spell poppet, a gruesome ashen doll made of human flesh and bone, stitched together with hair. At thirty-one years of age, his interest in the undead, and especially his relationship with these spirits have always caused aversion in those around him. His matter-of-fact tone, flat affect, and questioning stare make it painfully clear he's waiting for Erynion to back away, cup his mouth, and gag in disgust as everyone but those in Irathes' own coven had done before.
Fascinating! You'll have to teach me some time. Have you met any other speakers?
He takes out a journal and starts scribbling down notes.
I can only imagine that would prove useful when delving into forbidden graves...
Astonished at this very rare reaction to his interests, Irathes replaces his spell poppet into one of the many folds of his robes.
Once the shock wore off, Irathes answers Erynion, "I'd be happy to teach you. The only other speakers I know of are the few undead whom I've had the pleasure of knowing, and those in my coven whom I've taught, but I couldn't call them fluent by any means. As far as forbidden graves go, I couldn't say. All the crypts and tombs I've frequented were either unattended or open to the public. These are the ones most oft prayed upon by necromancers and..."
Irathes finds himself speaking excitedly about the few times his services have been required to quell or augment an undead presence in a small town from time to time. He feels a bit uneasy, excitement was usually an emotion only offered to him through the death of the living or of learning a new spell.
Adonnenniel rolls her eyes at Erynion entering another of his fancies, when there is business to be done. She has perhaps not yet realized she may not receive a letter from him about his assessments of this topic. A letter which she already subconsciously plans to peruse at some future moment of leisure.
Slowly and deliberately Adonnenniel approaches the door, keeping her eyes open for traps.
Avoiding any traps she finds, she takes a long look at the door,
before knocking and calling out:
"Oh Hunclay~! Are you in there~? The village would like to talk to you~!"
Irathes bows to Lady Devy, then turns to his companions, "This place is overrun with guarding and trap spells. Should we abandon this house of traps and wards for a more profitable endeavor? I know my vote is yea."
Before walking back to the party, Adonnenniel looks over the goblin's body, curious to see if it could be somehow related to the kobolds from the tower, either as friend or foe.
She then responds to Irathes.
"Indeed. By searching the ruins of the tower, we may find further clues to this mystery. Perhaps Hunclay is lurking around there. We cannot be sure of his reason for wanting the tower to come down. Now that it has, he is surely moving on to the next part of his vile plan."
Aha! Are we to be deputized ourselves then? I do so love becoming embroiled in things. Or are we to be contractors?
Erynion squints in the light and pops open his umbrella to shade his eyes.
If we're to do this, we may as well do so properly. Madam, is there anyone in town skilled in the arts of alchemy or explosives? I noticed the telltale signs among the wreckage. This Hunclay, perhaps?
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Irathes says calmly, "I'll admit I'm suspicious of the wizard too, but these wards could just as easily be meant to protect him from Kobolds and Goblins, and he could be hunkered down in there afraid to come out, for all we know. I just think an open mind may do us some good on this expedition."
When Erynion asks his second set of questions, Irathes listens intently.
Telthes stands by quietly observing. Though that amount of money implies dangerous work.
"Perhaps Madame Xemne knows something. If not the perpetrator, perhaps one of her customers? At the very least, she could lend her expertise." Mulling it over, he makes his final point, "however I'm under the impression that our most valuable clues will come from this expedition for which the baroness has hired us."
"Shall we head back to the tower then? I would be happy to spend time exploring the village further, but..." Adonnenniel pauses for a moment before continuing. "Well, it would be more fun if I had my share of the reward in my belt pouch while doing it."