Looking to the others cautiously, there's the first hint of tears in his shiny eyes. "Thank you." he says briefly not trusting his voice to say much more.
His tongue runs over his teeth, hoping that they haven't sharpened due to the lycanthropy.
As afternoon passes to evening, storm clouds gather, and you hear rumbles of thunder in the distance. Father Grimsby sets about preparing his ritual. He instructs the party to bind and restrain Tybalt.
He prepares a poultice of herbs which he grinds with a few drops of the water from the spring. He incants words of blessing upon the materials in front of him.
Outside, the wind howls as rain lashes the decaying chapel. Father Grimsby begins the rite, calling upon divine energy to expel the curse plaguing Tybalt. Tybalt can feel a feral bestial energy within him struggling to emerge. He thrashes and tenses uncontrollably, struggling against his bonds.
Tybalt: I need a Fortitude Save and a Will Save.
His vision going red; the young bard tries to focus. He struggles against the encroaching darkness, the loss of control and the inevitable. There's the faint whisper at the back of his mind, the promise of something better of freedom.
He concentrates on the moment the present, his friends who have tried to help him, their pain and sacrifice.
Tybalt's thrashing intensifies as the two consciousnesses within him struggle for control. He becomes difficult to restrain, but the party manages to keep his bindings intact.
Outside, the storm rages. Tybalt's bestial groans are punctuated by crashes of thunder from outside. Father Grimsby raises his voice as he recites his incantations. They reach a crescendo as Tybalt cries out - ratlike features passing across the bard's fact. But Tybalt's mortal nature wins out, and he collapses, exhausted, in his natural form.
"It is done," Father Grimsby says, seeking the support of a nearby chair.
As you recover your strength, the storm outside abates to a steady rain. ”I must rest,” Father Grimsby says breathlessly, making for his chambers.
”I believe we all must rest. We can travel together to Mordentshire,” Dr. Savarre suggests.
Tybalt is weak after his ordeal, but capable of riding.
Irikar nods, "Best to start the new trip well-rested."
Tybalt is teary-eyed and exhausted, his limbs still shake slightly at random from the muscle spasms that hit him during the ritual. "I think some fresh air would do us all good." his once satirical voice is reedy and thin, though there's the hint of his old underlying tone.
You begin the ride back to Mordentshire, traveling around roads thick with mud from the evening’s heavy showers. There is a closeness in the air - the humidity that follows a heavy rain. As the temperature drops, a light fog begins to settle over the night landscape.
(Can I get Perception checks please?)
Res rides quietly at first, reflecting on Father Grimsby's ritual on Tybalt. He breaks his silence, saying, "It is good to see you rid of that wretched curse Tybalt; lesser men would have succumbed long ago. A little rest, and you should be back to your old self."
As a precaution, Res carefully scans their surroundings for threats.
Irikar rides forward, trying not to be too concerned about the somewhat belaboured breathing by the companion wrapped around his neck. Just one more of my friends who will die over in this hellscape...
As you approach the boarding house where you have been staying, Res and Irikar observe footprints in the mud. This area is generally quiet, and these tracks do not look like mere passersby. One or more people were here recently, evidently looking into the windows and searching around the house’s exterior.
Irikar points, "Looks like we've had company... looking for us, no doubt."
"Agreed," answers Res. He pulls out his greatsword. "Be on guard; they may still be lurking, hoping to ambush us. Tybalt, save your strength; you cannot fight if we are attacked. I will protect you!"
Dr. Savarre looks concerned. ”That anyone knows to look for you here bodes ill - for ourselves and for anyone we are in contact with. I believe we have worn out our welcome in Mordentshire, lest we risk drawing the attention of the Crimson Court. We should leave as soon as we are rested and Tybalt is able to travel.”
Volidrian pulls out his bow and nocks an arrow.
"Never a moment of respite in this land is there. Even during our rest we will have to remain on guard"
"Volidrian, let's scout around to ensure our surroundings are clear. You others can remain here and keep Tybalt safe. Once we are secure, we should set up watch until we leave as the good doctor suggests.", Res tells the group.
Res advances to where the footsteps are and begins to follow their path while keeping a wary eye for anything suspicious.
Volidrian follows behind Res trying to stay hidden.
+3 for traps +2 for hidden objects
if necessary to follow tracks
Although the ground is muddy, Volidrian can tell whoever was here made some attempt to cover their tracks. But that is no match for his scouting ability. He believes there were two people who made a brief inspection of the building’s exterior and then left - their tracks blend in with those of the other traffic heading into town.
"There were two intruders prowling about the building. Though it does not seem as though they extended their reconnoitering to the interior. They have, however, made an attempt to obfuscate their passing; which,i believe, makes manifest their ill intent toward our group. The tracks leading away from the edifice intertwine with general traffic to such an extent that I doubt attempting to track them back to their destination will obtain satisfactory results."
During this speech, Volidrian puts the arrow back in it's quiver.
Res puts away his great sword, and says, "Thank you, Volidrian, Let's go inside and get some rest before we depart to let Tybalt recover a little more. I still we should set up a watch, to be safe. I will take the first one."
Res goes to the entrance, opens the door, and enters, still keeping a wary eye for intruders.
Dr. Savarre nods. ”Keep good watch. Get rest, and gather your things in the morning. You can meet me at the Sword and Lion before we depart.” He sets off to his lodging in town.
For your respective watches, the hours of the night stretch into a grey dawn that brings little warmth or cheer. Sleep is fitful - for Tybalt most of all - but you are able to get sufficient rest. Mrs. Maynard offers some cheese, cured meats, and a loaf of fresh bread for your breakfast.
The taciturn doctor nods at Volidrian's words. He takes his watch and eats sparingly of the fare provided by Mrs. Maynard