"In my tribe, it is not the god who is feared, but the spirits of your enemy's ancestors, should their rest be disturbed. Terrible is the wrath of those spirits, who cannot be slain or touched by steel and drain the life from those who have defiled their holy sites."
Spidre eyes the statue with calculating avarice. "Well... if you say so..."
While the others discuss the temple, Raven stalks forward and examines the doors and the rubble, looking for traps or danger.
The statue is fairly large and well-executed. Spidre thinks she might get a few hundred gold for it.
Raven found nothing in the ruined temple beyond what was already apparent, save for rats' nests and the like.
"Okay guys, but would the spirits or whatever be really angry if we just helped this statue find a better home?" Spidre asks innocently as she slowly and absentmindedly reaches out for the statue.
Raven tries the doors.
"Okay guys, but would the spirits or whatever be really angry if we just helped this statue find a better home?" Spidre asks innocently as she slowly and absentmindedly reaches out for the statue.
Raven tries the doors.
Raven found more of the same beyond the inner doors, but no more statues that might go wandering.
"That depends on whether the spirits remain here to watch us or not, and if we truly find it a home it can be cared for in."
Groomahk flexes his steely arms, clearly ready to smash or throw or lift or move the thing when ordered.
"That depends on whether the spirits remain here to watch us or not, and if we truly find it a home it can be cared for in."
Groo thinks he can do it, if people think it's the only way to go.
Rikal says, "Let us not worry about the statue now - it is far too large for us to deal with. We will need to move quickly once we reach Scrapwall across the river, I am sure."
Rikal gestures to Spidre and Raven to lead the way to the next part of the keep.
Finding nothing of great importance, Spidre and Raven return through the door they came and Spidre tries to shrug off the feeling she got earlier.
They both head to the southern doors and investigate.
Groomahk follows Spidre, weapons drawn and sniffing the air for danger.
Spidre, Raven, and the others come to the southernmost building. Smoke still rises from it and within they find a mostly collapsed stable. Amid the ruin are the bodies of a half-dozen horses and the grisly, mutilated remains of no less than seven people.
Groomahk drools.when he smells the roasted flesh. He grabs a haunch of roasted meat and eats, caring little for.where it came from.
Spidre covers her mouth in shock while Raven examines the bodies for signs of life, valuables, or anything else of interest.
The dead bodies didn't bother Rikal as he surveyed the carnage. He walked up to one of the bodies, trying to tell how long ago the butchery had occurred. He avoided calling attention to Spidre's shock, not wanting to risk shaming the little one.
Spidre covers her mouth in shock while Raven examines the bodies for signs of life, valuables, or anything else of interest.
Spidre covers her mouth in shock while Raven examines the bodies for signs of life, valuables, or anything else of interest.
Rikal thinks the bodies are no more than a few hours old.
Rikal looks up from his examination of the bodies. "This was recent - whatever did this cared nothing for man nor beast, just carnage. If such a creature is still about, we should be wary." He then studies the wounds, trying to determine what manner of weapon - man-made or natural - had caused the wounds.
Rikal looks up from his examination of the bodies. "This was recent - whatever did this cared nothing for man nor beast, just carnage. If such a creature is still about, we should be wary." He then studies the wounds, trying to determine what manner of weapon - man-made or natural - had caused the wounds.
[dice=Heal]1d20+8
The butchery looks like the work of people to Rikal.
"It looks like it killed simply for the pleasure of it, not for food." Chotka laid his hand on Groomahk's shoulder, "It is better to be the predator, than the scavenger, and there is bigger prey still about."
Groomahk snarls and grutns as he rips off more meat.
Spidre moves away in disgust.
But she notices another door.
Standing from his examination, he said, "It was not animals which killed these - but beings. Orcs, perhaps, or humans, or some other type who uses weapons. I suspect we will find nothing of use here, but let us finish searching to be thorough. We will have to cross the river to get into Scrapwall."
Groomahk cares nothing for the bird-twitters of the his tuskless clan. He will stay all his enemies in glorious battle and feed on their strength to take it for his own!
Spidre moves away in disgust.
But she notices another door.
Chotka followed Spidre's gaze, then smiled. "Hiding in a back room before our warband's approach. How embarassing," the orc grunted, then strode across the room and opened the closed door.
As Chotka approached the building to the west, a voice called down from its roof.
"Stay back! It's the plague in here!"
Rikal looked up to the roof, searching for the one who spoke. "The plague is it? And which plague might that be? Is it why you butchered your fellows in that stable there?"
Groomahk snarls, weapon drawn.
He stalks over to the door where the weak-mewling came and roared.
Spidre tries to listen to Rikal's exchange as Groomahk coughs out an awkward growl.
Rikal looked up to the roof, searching for the one who spoke. "The plague is it? And which plague might that be? Is it why you butchered your fellows in that stable there?"
[dice=Perception]1d20+11
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+9
"We...don't know anything about that!" the voice shouted down.
Rikal laughs at the response. "That slaughter happened mere hours ago, and you're trying to tell me you know nothing about it? You either witnessed it or you committed it. Why don't you try again?"
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+9
Rikal laughs at the response. "That slaughter happened mere hours ago, and you're trying to tell me you know nothing about it? You either witnessed it or you committed it. Why don't you try again?"
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+9
"We don't know anything. We weren't here before. We had the plague when we came!" the man shouted, increasingly desperate.
"Then it is good that I am a healer. Come out so I can take your sickness from you."
"Then it is good that I am a healer. Come out so I can take your sickness from you."
"No, it's past that! You'll be slain yourselves if you come in! You can't come in!"
Raven weighs the words silently, then looks to Spidre.
Groomahk roars and pounds his chest, weary of the bird-twitters of the weak ones!
Rikal snorts at the man's protestations, then switches to the guttural Orc tongue. "Mighty Groomahk, Warleader Chotka, the human lies. They have something to do with this slaughter. I know not what, but we should find out. I will have the little one unlock the door, then we shall enter."
Switching to Halfling, he says, "Spidre, the human is lying. They had something to do with the slaughter. Could you or Raven unlock the door so we may go in and find out the truth of this farce?"
Spidre nods and gestures to Raven, who then looks to the door to attempt to open it safely.
Finally! One of the weaklings speaks words!
Groomahkk roars and bursts through the door, ready for battle!
"Hey, what's that thing d- What's that other thing doing!" the voice from above shouted as Raven and Groo made for the door. Groo reached it first, slamming hard into stout wood. It seemed to be locked.
Shouts erupted from within as the orc pounded upon the door.
Groomahk roars and tries to rip the door off its hinges.