Gilda quickly gathers as much dry wood as possible. She notes the characteristics of each corpse and and asks the party members to identify who they can.
She then piles the wood up as best she can. She tries to place it in as clear an area as possible. She then puts the bodies on the pyre and lights it.
Gilda improvises a reburial service for the quiet of their souls.
Shel helped Gilda as well as she could to prepare the bodies for their pyre.
She was relieved to hear that they would be allowed to search for the equipment the Professor had left behind. If it was important enough for him to note in the journal, clearly it would aid the search to find out what happened to him.
After helping haul the bodies onto the pyre, Edrik stands beside Gilda and listens solemnly to her burial ceremony.
"Gilda, you've done these unfortunate souls a kindness. Thank you." As Gilda lights the pyre, Edrik utters a quick prayer to Pharasma.
Once Father Grimborrow has been consulted, Edrik nods "Aye Father, until tomorrow then. Pharasma be with you." Heading out, Edrik begins to prepare the coach for travel.
May the winds guide your souls to peace.
Vachordi follows the rest and keeps a sharp eye out.
The last of the flames from your makeshift pyre begin to die before you decide to turn in. The bodies are unrecognizable ash, and the prayers offered may have quelled the restless spirits, for no other zombies find their way to your position.
The horses are panting and just as exhausted as you are by the time you reach Lorrimor manner.
The soft guest beds of your rooms cradle you until after the dawn has passed.
Kendra's kitchen is well stocked for visitors, and your break a simple but hearty fast.
What's on the agenda for the second day in town?
Who is going to the church to retrieve the cache? Or is it going to be a party?
"Is everyone still planning on going with me to look for the equipment tomorrow? These undead walking toward the town have me spooked, even more than the townspeople who apparently hate us do. I don't think any of us should go out along for the time being, just to be safe."
"We ought definitely to inquire. I think the presence of undead changes everything."
The weather will gradually be come more cold. Fall is nearing it's finish, and winter is coming. Brace yourself.
Father Grimburrow welcomes you back, and hears your tale of the undead escaping from his cemetery.
The dickens! How many of my flock rose last night? 4? And you BURNED THE BODIES?! He is clearly unhappy with the turn of events, and more so that your first instinct was to dispose of the evidence in such a brazen way.
He storms off into the back offices of the church. When he returns 4 acolytes (the full staff of the church) trail behind him. Take us to the deceased, please. Yavin and Galhad will continue on with you to the crypt where your friend Lorrimor wrote of the church's supplies being stored. They will retrieve anything belonging to the church. I will see that the bodies are returned to their graves, and we will have to see to the graveyard. This bodes ill. I hate to jump to hasty conclusions, but perhaps the Professor was dabbling in things he should not have.
Or perhaps trying to stop something...
Remember Father there is both a north and a south wind.
[ooc[ lol apparently Vachordi did not sleep well[/ooc]
Shel follows with the others, surprised at the reaction of the priest. I wonder how he would have preferred us to dispose of the corpses to keep them from rising again.
"Let's not be hasty in assigning blame. The main thing is to be sure that it does not happen again. Were the undead located in the same area of the graveyard? Or are there other similarities amongst them?"
Gilda accompanies the other clerics.
Understanding of Grimborrow's dismay, Edrik nods "Aye Father, I know it isn't the preferable solution, but a necessary precaution." Taking a deep breath, Edrik continues "It isn't something I'm sure you deal with frequently out here, but at Lastwall, burning a body is a kindness that prevents the dead from rising again. Pharasma forgive us, but it was the lesser of two evils."
Heading outside with the others, Edrik shrugs "I explained our position; I think he knows we did what we had too. In any event, let's get a move on."
The gruff old priest counters: You don't think I know how to put down a walker, boy? There are proper ways to deal with the uprising of the dead that leave family members and former loved ones intact. You should have came to us with them before burning them.
To Gilda: Lass, I haven't yet seen what condition our graveyard is in. We shall see which graves have been violated. I can tell you that we take precautions prior to burial- that all we inter are most definitely dead and not likely to walk again on their own. Foulness is afoot, and you'll have to pardon me for my distrust- but this trouble has only started since outsiders arrived.
Vachordi will try to ride shotgun again.
Shel will ride beside Edrik if there is room available on the coach. She isn't interested in sitting mostly blind inside the vehicle again. "I'd rather keep my eyes open here. I'm afraid there might be other undead plodding around," she tells the paladin as she takes a seat next to him.
The dwarven clerics cheeks flushed at the old priests words but she held her tongue.
Edrik presents a friendly smile and extends a hand to help Shel up onto the driver seat of the coach "Glad to have the company Shel." Once everyone is ready, Edrik gets the carriage rolling onto their destinations, starting with the bonfire.
The ride to last night's fight passes uneventfully. Father Grimburrow rides with his acolytes on a small cart. A pile of ash, with a few chunks of bone intermingled, sits aside the road. The Father blesses the ash with some holy water, recites a few prayers, and orders the young priests to begin scraping the ash into two clay urns from the back of the cart.
The graveyard gate stands open. The morning sun has burnt off most of the ever-present mist, and the graveyard looks almost benign by daylight.
The false crypt mentioned in the professor’s journal is located in the northeast corner of the Restlands. A pair of leering gargoyles sit motionless on the corners of the vaulted granite roof. A single stone door with a rusty lock faces the south, the crypt expands 30' wide and 35' long.
There is no reason or logic to where each came from.
Limbering up his bow, Vachordi moves to the entrance.
Shall we?
Perception
Disable Device
Shel looks closely at the lock, then attempts to open it, eager to see what the Professor thought might be helpful.
Gilda follows the bard to the entrance.
After securing the carriage, Edrik follows the others to the crypt entryway. While Shel works at the lock, Edrik stands guard over his companions with a vigilant look. Scanning the graveyard, Edrik keeps an eye out for potential threats, particularly the possibility of more grave walkers.
Shel reaches up to open the lock, and finds that it's been melted with some acid, and closed back up to look as though it hasn't been tampered with.
The crypt swings open with a push, groaning. The interior is dusty and old feeling- as if the crypt is nearly as old as the graveyard. A single set of tracks leads inward, and back outward.
Initiative
Shel lets Edrick take the lead, but follows closely behind him, so she can still check for traps in the crypt.
Initiative:
She casts Guidance on the Paladin.
The clip-clop of one of the heavily shod Ulstavian horses breaks the tension of the silent tomb. As it rounds the corner, you see halfling woman clinging precariously to it's back. She is clearly out of place on the much too large mount, and appears to have trouble controlling the mare.
The tracks lead deeper into the crypt. You follow them down the stone stairs, past the empty alcoves that once held the bones of the faithful.
The tracks lead straight to a large sarcophagus, and back out.
[ooc] Perception and Survival [ooc]
Vachordi spins his bow drawn. Seeing a halfling he half relaxes.
Vachordi grunts indicating the approach.
Perception
Survival (untrained)
"Who are you," Shel calls out, having not seen another of her kind in quite some time.
Gilda hears the sound of the approaching rider, looks up, sees the halfling then ponders the ubiquity of shorter, lesser races.
Deciding quickly that a halfling, even if undead, is unlikely to be a threat, she waves in a friendly manner.
Shortly after the rhythmic pounding of horse-hooves become noticable, you also hear a high-pitched voice, with a very frantic edge to it. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Oh, gods above, how do you stop this thing? WHOA!!!" As the draft horse gets closer, you see a plump halfling woman clinging desperately to the mare's mane. Her dark blue eyes are wide with fear, and her apple cheeks are pale. She wears a simple peasant's clothes - a thick homespun skirt and blouse, and the bonnet on her head has slipped off her head and now hangs loosely about her neck - undoubtedly from the wild ride the mare has taken her on. She has honey blonde hair, curly like most halflings, and it falls to her shoulders.
As the horse finally coasts to a stop before you all, she pants with ragged breath, and the color slowly returns to her cheeks. "My name is Awnara Puddyfoot," she says haltingly. "Of the Vieland Puddyfoots. I'm here to pay my respects to the Professor." She says this without looking at any of the rag-tag group assembled before the tomb. She looks at one of the larger folk with wide eyes. "Would one of you help me down? Please?"
Watching the rider approach, Edrik's eyes widen in disbelief at the spectacle. Taking a few steps outside the crypt, Edrik mutters loud enough for his companions to hear him "Oh come now, she shouldn't be riding that horse..."
Springing forward a few steps, Edrik grabs the reigns of the mare and brings it under control. With a slight smirk and raised eyebrow, Edrik gives Awnara a bemused though perhaps mildly scolding look as he helps her down "Of course Miss Puddyfoot, always happy to help." Guiding the horse along in order to tie it down by the coach, Edrik explains "As to the professor, we buried him the day before last I'm afraid. We're currently going about his late business at present."
Are you hurt?
The halfling is introduced.
The crypt is mostly empty- it appears that the bones once interred here have been removed some time ago. The empty alcoves line the walls. Down the stairs, however, are several sarcofagi. Perhaps the cache is hidden there?
Vachordi sends his dancing lights down the stairs to light up as much as he can. Then when the lights are down the stairs he casts Sift
Awnara recovers a bit after Edrik helps her off the draft horse, and she smooths out her skirt. As the warrior explains that the group have already buried the Professor, she seems crestfallen. "I'd feared as much. The coach that was sent for me was attacked by brigands. The guards routed them, but they broke the wagon's axle. The coachman knew I had an appointment, and so he sent me ahead on this beastly thing." She looks warily at the horse again.
"Is this where he's buried? I...I would like to say goodbye to him." As the large man starts chanting words in his harsh tongue, she quickly makes a warding sign, casting nervous glances around to make certain nobody saw him speak witching words.
Gilda casts 'Detect Magic' and looks around
Seems safe. Vachordi rumbles
"If you give us just a bit, we can take you to the Professor's gravesight. We have much to fill you in on, if you are a friend of his. We are looking for something down here first." Shel takes point and looks closely ahead of the group, hoping to avoid any traps, that her experience had taught her would probably be guarding the stash.
Perception
Shell walks the grid, carefully scanning the crypt for anomalies. Finding none, and empty alcove, the only hiding place left are the three sarcofigi. The two acolytes accompanying you from the church nod their assent; the older tombs have been decommissioned, so there should not be any dead interred here.
"Apologies to you and your flock, pastors, but I'm afraid it has to be done," she nods as she steps to the first one and checks it carefully. If she finds no traps, she attempts to open it.
Perception (traps)