As his opponent turns into a swirling cloud of ash, Kalt hurries forward to help Lana. He moves wide to get into a better attacking position without incurring a scratch from the undead horror, then strikes hard with his greatsword.
Kalts vicious swing is rewarded with the destruction of another corrupted priest, leaving only the one fighting Sven and Avora. It continues to fight with gusto, perhaps welcoming the impending release from its current state.
Lana steps back and concentrates, extending her spirit to Avora. Her dark eyes dart around, her vision flickering between color and grey dullness. No more... no more.
Avora stabs frantically with her spear, trying to keep the thing at a distance.
Casting cure light wounds in place of air bubble, Ankih then moves up and attempts to touch the creature.
Sven's axe is parried by a claw, and Avora manages to pierce the foe, but finds her strike has no effect on it. Ankih's curative assault hits as well, but only minorly disrupts the thing. Bugsby aims and fires his crossbow.
But He too finds his bolt not affecting the thing, who lashes out at..
Avora! Twin claws snake out to leave a second scratch on her fair skin, dirty and ragged.
Lana shudders as she sees the wound and feels its pain on her own skin. Pulling the wand from her pouch, she quickly draws out a bit of its energy to strengthen her.
Kalt dashes across the snow to come up behind the last remaining undead priest, trapping it between himself and Sven. He drives his blade into the thing's back, saying, "Go to your rest, damned soul!"
Realizing the she can do no good here, Avora takes a 5-foot step to withdraw.
Avora is thankful she takes a step back to avoid the plume of ash and wisps of shadow that announces the defeat of the final Huecava. Sadness still seems to permeate the air and ground however, the dark rituals that were once performing here having tainted the area.
"Well," Kalt says as the last undead priest swirls away in a column of wind-blown ash, "I have my doubts about this as a place to rest safely. But perhaps we should see what else is here, and lay to rest any other poor souls if we can."
He moves toward the doors the priests came out of, senses alert for any further surprises.
Lana nods absently and prepares to follow, her vision still shifting unpredictably between dull greys and full color. "Such treachery... and sorrow..." she mutters as the group continues forward.
Kalt finds a few odd snowpiles and after a breif search, finds a number of small skeletons arranged in patterns beneath the crusted snow.
Not sure about what is causing the sorrow, Ankih shrugs and aids Kalt in searching the area.
Lana looks around with the others, wishing she knew some way of cleansing the area. At one point she stops and puts her hand to her forehead, looking over at Ankih. "There is a blessing which can... purify... wash away the evil that was done here... but I do not know it."
" I know of one that might, but it may not work here, Desna is not my patron. Casting the spell may well cut this area off from her, in effect cursing it. Also I don't have it prepared, we would have to rest for a day for me to renew my spells."
Ankih and Lana search as well, and the group continues to find skeletons of children that seem ritualistic in their orientation. Lana finds a stone that shifts slightly when she steps on it, and after using some ulfen muscle remove the large stone, finds a sack of coin and a dusty ivory tube with rolls of parchment in it that appear magical in nature.
" Guide my hand and keep me from harm Milady."
Ankih will then take the scrolls and take a look at them.
Kalt waits for Ankih and Lana to study the scrolls they've found, eager to enter the building and see what awaits within.
Ankih attempts to read the scrolls, hoping they aren't cursed.
Lana frowns at the scrolls for a moment in puzzlement, then hands them one at a time to Ankih. "This one will paralyze someone, I believe... this one will help against the winter cold... and this one..." she pauses and shakes her head with a smile, then turns and hands it to the gnome instead.
The courtyard scoured, the melancholy crew begin to search the temple proper. Beyond even more child skeletons, the group finds a bladed belt amongst the rubble.
Lana frowns at the scrolls for a moment in puzzlement, then hands them one at a time to Ankih. "This one will paralyze someone, I believe... this one will help against the winter cold... and this one..." she pauses and shakes her head with a smile, then turns and hands it to the gnome instead.
Bugsby lets out a little squeak of delight as the third scroll is passed over to him, accepting the magical writings carefully with both hands. He gazes a moment with unvieled excitment at the scroll then turns those bright eyes to Lana, unconciously hopping in place with barely restrained eagerness. "Oh!oh! Letmeguess." and he scrunches up his face in thought for a moment, "It'llgivemeathirdeyewhichshootsicicles!? No,wait... It'llturnmyhandsintopirahnnas!? Nono, it'llmakeitsomy --deadlynoisesofunknownorigin-- lightonfire!?" He clasps the scroll tightly to him, "Whichwhichwhich!??" he cries inquiringly.
"That would be quite the remarkable magic," replies Lana with a twinkle in her eye. "Unfortunately, this one isn't quite so exciting... it'll just mean Sven here can toss you from the top of a cliff or tower without you getting hurt. I believe you're familiar with such weaves of magic?"
In spite of the curse weighing him down, in spite of the sadness and horror pervading the temple courtyard, Kalt chuckles at Bugsby's manic curiosity and gleeful enthusiasm.
"I bet if you ask him nicely, Bugs, that Sven would do that for you," he says, raising an eyebrow at his bear-like blood brother.
After leaving the courtyard and temple areas, the mood of the group slowly lifts, or at least, isn't magically dampened. Setting up camp in the ruins of a house nearby, and using the remains of the walls as a wind break, the rest of the day and evening passes by uneventfully.
The following morning, Ankih asks for the ability to imbue a bit of light into the darkness that has taken up residence at Desna's temple. He finds the spell harder to cast than he expects, the evil of the area resisting Sarenrae's light as best it can, but in the end, the spell completes and the childrens screams quiet one final time. As the groups prepares to head out, a beautiful purplish blue butterfly lands nearby, its wings slowly flapping in the frigid air that usually repulses flying insects. After a moment it takes off again, getting lost in the sunglare from the snow.
A smile splits Kalt's normally grim face as the children's screams fade away forever and the butterfly appears. "Well done, Ankih. Thank you for what you've done here."
Looking to the bear-like Sven, he continues, "I usually find hope a bit more elusive than you do, my friend, but I find it here. I'm not so sure a warm welcome awaits us in Whitethrone, but I agree we should be on our way."
Just after mid-day, the group spots a lonely hut nestled amongst a grove of trees. A thin wisp of smoke from the chimney is the only sign of life within. Feeling nothing out of sorts, the group continues on, eager to be at Whitethrone and this imaginary warmed hearth. As they are passing the hut, a red-haired beauty adorned in crimson and forest green emerges and begins waving a handkerchief trying to flag the group down.
As Sven approaches the woman, Kalt’s instincts take over and he scans their surroundings to be sure there are no surprises waiting to take advantage of their being distracted.
Kalt sees nothing unusual in the surrounding landscape as the woman rushes toward Sven, ”Oh thank you kind sir.” she says, her eyes twinkling with tears of joy over having found a champion. ”There is a moss troll in the woods, and I fear it has slain my dear husband Finngarth! Please good sir, you must find it my husband lives!”
The woman turns, her long flowing locks billowing in the wind as she points beyond her hut. ”I do not know where the beast lives, but I saw it about a mile in that direction. I went looking for my husband when he didn’t come home for lunch, but found it instead. I shrieked, and it fled, while I fled home. That was two days ago, and my dearest Finngarth hasn’t come back yet. He’s a bit shorter than you, and nowhere near your girth with grey eyes and fairly shaggy brown hair. “ Her breathe catching, she puts on a full lipped pout as looks deep into Sven’s eyes, ”You just have to save him! I don’t know what I would do without him!”
Behind the massive ulfen, Nadya’s eyes roll as she tries to stifle groan over the simpering woman.
Kalt studies the women carefully, and not just to admire her beauty. Her overly dramatic telling of her tale raises his suspicions that this is some sort of ruse - and one almost perfectly suited to tempt Sven's taste for heroism.
Kalt feels, however, that the woman is sincere, and agrees with Sven, "We'll find him ma'am, if he can be found. Let's go." He then turns and makes eye contact with Nadya, flicking his eyes toward the woman as if to say, Keep an eye on her, okay? He then says, "Nadya, perhaps you and the boys can wait here?"
As they move off in the direction the woman pointed, Kalt thinks on what he can recall of moss trolls.
Avora ashamedly hides her own scarred visage as the group approaches the woman, but perks her ears to listen for tell-tale inflections in her voice that might betray hidden agendas.
Assuming that she senses nothing out of the ordinary, she falls into line behind Sven and Kalt, also mentally reviewing what she knows of moss trolls.