Crokus roars in pain as the skeleton's clawed hands slash his face and rake deeply into his side.
He reels and shuffles to the side.
Catching his balance he glares at the skeleton, grimacing through the pain.
"If there's anything left of ya I'm keepin' it as a trophy, ya hear me!?" he screams as he swings his hammer down as hard as he can.
The weapon connects with crushing force.
Despite bleeding profusely from the jagged scratches, Crokus manages to bring his hammer to bear. The weapons metal head crushed ribs, driving the spine sidewards and causing the upper body to tumble and collapse upon the floor.
As suddenly as it had started, the combat was over.
Crokus glares at the offending pile of bones and squats to look at it more closely, wincing in pain as he does so.
He picks up the skeleton's hand and stands up with it, ripping the index finger off and pocketing it.
"What? I thought it might make a nice necklace."
Zair critically inspects Crokus.
"Hmmm. That's going to need to be patched up when I get the time, yes." He says this without any of his usual halting mannerisms.
He walks into the now vacant tomb and scans around for anything out of the ordinary.
The room within the vault seems to have been thoroughly ransacked. The goblins had taken liberties to splatter paints and other, more foul stains across the effigies to Desna inside the place.
Someone had shifted the stone lid off the coffin inside and it took only the briefest of looks to determine that whomever had been buried there was no longer resting there. The remains of the departed had been completely removed. The plaque above the door and the stone carving upon the coffin itself had been destroyed too. Meticulously. Short of magically repairing them, there was no way read who was buried here.
To the side of the room, a black satin cloak had been tossed carelessly. It seemed to be made of many small pockets or patches, all of which were empty and torn. Sigils of skulls and other symbols of the necromatic arts adorned the cloak, and it felt chill to the touch.
Surpisingly, despite the damage to the place, nothing but the remains inside the coffin had been taken.
The two skeletons that the group had fought dissolved to so much bone dust and ash after a few moments. Even the rusted mail they had been wearing had vanished.
Zair inspects the strange cloak lying in the side of the room.
"Hm. Very interesting."
He decides to use his ability to detect magical auras on the cloak.
*...As it appears combat is over, Raimos winds down his little epic...muttering something about only needing limericks, at this rate...stepping up to look at the wound...*
Hold still for a moment, hero, if you would...I'll bandage that. Are we exploring further today? I may have to wand you. I know you're tough...you don't have to prove it...you know...
...Raimos flashes Crokus a grin...
Great job, by the way. I think a splinter hit the sheriff.
...looking bck over his shoulder, in the diection the group came from...
"Ah, thank you Raimos. These scratches are quite a bit more-" Crokus winces "-Painful than they had initially felt."
Having inspected the robe, Zair determined it was a necromantic item commonly known as a robe of bones. These garments carried the bones of slaughtered victims who's skeletons then be brought forth through magic to fight for whomever had used the cloak. This one seemed to have been completely used and apparentky tossed aside when done so.
Ira' s amazing abilty to see detail found two things. A small patch of green cloak had caught in the stone of the coffins lid. The material was of very fine quality, and hadn't torn easily. Whoever had worn it certainly had been forced to drag the cloak free in their hurry to leave.
Additionally, he found a small sign of whomever had been buried in this place. The remains of the stone lid had little that could be read, but the monk did find a detailed sigil of the goddess of luck. It was more than just an icon that would be placed for a follower, The craftsmanship was superb, likley costing more than a few gold pieces alone to be crafted. That it had survived the destruction of the name plate was extremely lucky.
Apart from this information, there was nothing more to be found in this location.
It was time to return to father Zantus and the sheriff.
*...wandering back to where we left the sheriff, a bit lost in thought...*
Zair stuffs the used Robe of Bones into his pack and follows behind the rest of the party.
Ira considers the problem as he heads back to find the sheriff.
"I don't like this a bit. I've had to deal with undead a few times in my travels and it never turns out well. Especially not so near a town like this."
Zair stuffs the used Robe of Bones into his pack and follows behind the rest of the party.
"Did it take us this long to walk here the first time?"
After what seemed an eternal walk through the burial grounds, the small group found themselves once again in the temple of Sandpoint. Father Zantus looked tired when they approached him. The long night spent healing the injured of the township, and the equally long morning dealing with teh fallout of the attack had taken its toll on Sandpoints head priest.
When they mentioned the despoiled tomb, he sighed and told them that particular crypt belonged to the old head priest of the township. He and his daughter had died in the very fire that had claimed the old shurch itself. Yesterdays festival had been as much to remember he and his daughter, and a number of others whp had died that year in a brutal series of mruders. The celebration and reopening of the church was meant to put those times of trouble firmly in the past and allow the township to move onwards.
He seemed worried that someone seemed to have deliberately targetd the old priests crypt and stolen his remains. He was doubly worried that such a powerful artefact as the robe of bones would be used and then casually tossed aside. Someone with power had acted at the graveyard.
The sheriff could shed no more light on the subject. He had no idea about arcane matters and the fact no goblins had been found bode well for the man.
Both church and guard paid the party for their efforts though, providing each group member 10gold in total (5 from the sheriff and 5 from Zantus). All up it had been a profitable venture, though rahter painful for Crokus.
Raimos spends a little time helping the good father with the wounded...picking up a few pointers...before wandering of to spend time training Augie. He's very interested in two things in particular...guarding and tracking, but he spends as much time just playing. Raimos has never had a dog, before...and he finds the big ball of fur fascinating. After clearing his clothes of fur, and wiping his face clean of all the doggie love (slobber), he'll pick some wildflowers, and head to the inn for some dinner and flirtations...and take the stage for a recitation or two...
...dark was the night, and lo the wind howled, but the time was right, it must be now. On he rode, on toward the sun - once the night was o'er, the fiend would be done...
...Rydon's Righteous Ride...and then something more romantic...
...for there was pearl in her eyes, and topaz was her hair, and she danced in the fields, a nymph of the air...and he watched as if charmed, he never went home - she had won when he dared. For love may be fickle, and love may stay, but love a real woman, and not the fey...
...Lost in the Day.
Perform: Oratory:
...all the while, warming up to Aiko with his best wicked smile and wildflowers.
Diplomacy (+1 for Charming!):
...and then he'll head to the playhouse...to discuss the possibilities of a good soliloquy part, as was suggested...and do a more formal audition.
Perform: Oratory:
Crokus went back to Cracktooth's Tavern after having his wounds patched up.
He spends most of the day talking with Jesk and his friends in the tavern, drinking (though considerably less than was his habit before the attack) and all around just listening to everyone's stories and gossip from around town.
He did find himself spending more time with one young Half-Orc woman than the others, Sheriza. While she kept her distance he could often find her to be very intent on his words when he was telling stories of his battles with various mercenary bands and some of the things he'd seen on them.
Crokus himself was a bit put aback by this attention. The combination of his race and gruesomely scarred appearance had made most contact with the fairer gender brief at best, and his utter lack of charm and ignorance of social graces pushed away most others.
Mostly he just enjoyed his time around people of like mind who weren't startled or frightened by his appearance, and contemplated getting to know Sheriza a bit better.
The second day he went to observe Raimos' performance at the playhouse, as a show of moral support for his companion. That afternoon he returned to the tavern.
"I propose a contest! A game of strength. I'll put 1 gold in the pot to start off, and any man who can bring my arm to the table I'll give the whole pot too. The catch is, it's a silver a try, and if nobody's beat me by the end of the night, I keep the pot. Any takers?"
Zair spends much of the rest of the first day searching for a quiet place where he can train and pray away from prying eyes.
After a while, he finds it. An old, dilapidated farmhouse on the edge of town, seemingly abandoned.
There, he spends a lot of time in quiet contemplation on the virtues of his lord, and sharpening his skills with his blade and shield.
He sleeps there that night, enjoying the peace, quiet, and not having to be covered head to toe to hide his appearance and holy tattoo.
The next morning he does his usual prayers and glorification of the ruthless efficiency of his god, does his morning warm-up, and then sits down to contemplate the information that's been gathered so far.
What he knows currently (secondhand and otherwise):
-The village was attacked out of the blue by goblins for an unknown reason.
-One of said goblins was well armed and armored, and better trained than the majority of his brethren.
-The old temple had burned down, killing the then head priest and his daughter.
-There had been a series of brutal murders that same year.
-The festival (which was ruined by the attack) was to commemorate the reopening of the church which had been burned down, and to honor the dead of the murders.
-The defiled tomb was that of the head priest who had died in the fire. The defiler wanted nobody to know this. The body of the priest had been stolen and two skeletons were left as a trap to unwary investigators, and had been dropped from a Robe of Bones.
From this, Zair concludes what is seemingly obvious from these events: The goblin attack, the murders, the church fire (and the death of the head priest), and the tomb defilement are all connected.
What follows are his conjectures on the matter:
-The head priest was possibly getting close to discovering who the murderer was.
-The murderer, attempting to cover his tracks, burned down the church in order to kill the head priest in a way that looked like an accident. The death of his daughter was likely just collateral damage.
-The grave robber and the murderer are likely the same person, are working for the same person, or are working together.
"What this doesn't explain is why someone would defile the crypt and steal the priest's bones. Or why the diversion of the goblin attack was needed. The grave robber could probably have snuck in quietly, stolen the corpse, and been on his way with none the wiser." he thought to himself.
"So why the attack, the destruction of the name on the crypt, and the skeletons? Perhaps the grave robber WANTED everyone to know he had been in the town for whatever reason (to sow fear?), but didn't want them to know exactly why? Hm. I feel I'm missing an important part of this puzzle."
"Perhaps if I were to find some way to track the scent left on this robe? Hm.
Zair covers himself in his cloak and gloves again and heads off to the kennel, hoping to find Raimos and his new dog.
Ira finds his way to the house of blue stone and introduces himself to the keeper of the monastery. He takes advantage of the meditation floor to contemplate the events of the day and to prepare himself for what will clearly be challenges ahead.
While there, he takes advantage of the library to seek information on the history of the town, the fire, and the priest who passed to see if he can find anything of assistance
He donates his 10 gold to the monastery, and thanks Sabyl for her service to the path of perfection.
The two days seemed to fly past. Each member of the party passed the time in their own way, making themselves at home amongst the peoples of Sandpoint.
By the morning of the third day in town, they were ready for their hunting trip with Lord Aldern Foxglove. When they arrived at the Rusty dragon that morning, the sight that greeted them was somewhat...chaotic at best. Men dressed in various liveries where holding horses or hounds. Some stood polishing weapons and even more were waiting with what seemed packs of provisions to be taken on the trip. For experienced travellers such as Ira, Raimos and Crokus, it looked more like an incursion or travelling party set for long term exploration rather than a mornings hunting.
When Aldern saw them, he called a greeting and asked them over to the group of men and women he was standing with. He introduced them as various nobles from the region, and one or two from Magnimar that had travelled to town for the festival as well. Each of these people greeted the adventurers in their own way, but you feel the tension in the air. It seemed that some form of political debate had been going on before the party arrived, and now the nobles stood in small groups, factioned off in sections of common belief.
This trip was going to be more than just killing boars it seemed. Every one of the small group who had banded together to fight the goblins three days before realised that their every action and word was being watched by some powerfully rich people. A wrong word here could be more disastrous than a broken weapon in combat.
"Hail and well met, my lords! I'm certain we'll have a rousing good time, eh?"
Zairis quietly follows along with the rest of the group in the hopes of finding something relevant to the investigation. All of the possibly interconnected events have piqued his curiosity, and he wishes to use all of the skills at his disposal to get to the bottom of this.
However, while it would be somewhat contrary to his religion to out and out slay these lords, he has little respect for them as people, thinking them soft and lacking in true resolve.
He reacts to any attempts to badger him with inconsequential chatter and political maneuverings by revealing a death glare emanating from his eerily glowing eyes.
Raimos has had only a little time with Augie, so far...he knows it's a risk, but he's not planning on pushing it too much, so takes him along in hopes that the trip can make for some good experience with him...and maybe a little bonding. Still nervous that things could definitely go bad, he makes a quick prayer to Desna before heading out to meet with the local well-to-do folk.
...and quickly realising that this trip could be disastrous for some members of our group, Raimos inserts himself as a buffer whenever it looks bad...doing his best to play up the strengths of the party...
Diplomacy:
...chatting history, especially pertaining to the great epics, and literature in general...especially of the local area.
Hail and well met, m'lords...I'm trusting the hunt will prove auspicious...and from this brave company, I feel that I may well be right!
...mayhaps we can rout a monstrosity like the beast Redchops, brought down by none other than that great hunter from Sandpoint, Martel the Patient! Wouldn't that be grand? Lord Foxglove...wasn't he an ancestor of yours? Such an auspicious group for my first hunt, indeed!
History:
Knowledge: Local
Should we run across such a monster, my doughty companions will truly be a boon!
Ira says nothing.
And apparently conveys himself well doing so...
Whenever there gets to be a lull in the conversation, Raimos will start a recitation of 'Crokus and the Great Beast'...
...after making his introduction, Raimos stays quiet and listens to what the nobles discuss, waiting for the right time...wanting to play up the abilities of his companions. In the meantime, he's playing around with a piece in his head, about the goblin attack...never did get it finished up, but if he can work out the words, he'll recite it somewhere along the way...
Perform: Oratory:
The ride was pleasant for the most part. Raimos managed to make himself quite a few new friends amongst the hob nobs of Sandpoint. His natural wit and charm, and his ability to recite the popular epics of the time had managed to turn what could have been a very awkward trip into something else entirely.
Crokus had put his foot in it almost immediately, commenting that one of the nobles reminded him of his mother, which was doubly insulting since it turned out the effeminate noble had actually been a young man of particularly interesting stature. Ira had merely played the part of silent witness, deferring to his companions whenever necessary, and Zair had made it quite clear that if anyone was to talk to him, he would place scorn and possibly violence upon them. The combination of those three had almost led to disaster, but Raimos really did turn out to be a godsend in this instance.
When they finally arrived at Tickwood, the location for their hunt, the nobles were well into their third bottle of brandy liqueur. Spirits were high, but tongues were also becoming less well guarded. It was deemed that the party should split into hunting groups, and a wager was placed on who's party would bag the finest catch of the day. Three of the nobles openly placed scorn upon Raimos' companions, and refused to have anything to do with them, so in the end it was the four friends, Aldern Foxglove and a Lady Nessa De'mur who were teamed together. The lady had taken a very strong shine to young Raimos, and was riding exceedingly close to the handsome bard now. She had probably had more than her share of wine too.
With that decided, the hunting party separated into four groups and rode around the edge of the woods, separating themselves over a good mile or so of terrain. Aldern rose his hand, and one of his own men raised a horn to his mouth and blew a long note. This was the signal for the hunt to begin.
There was much whooping from the nobles, but unexpectedly, none of them moved. Instead, the four footmen that had accompanied each group sighed a little disconsolately and dismounted. Each of them grabbed a large drum and walked into the woods. After a few moments, the sound of beating drums could be heard throughout the woods, seemingly circling away from the group before winding its way back towards the party.
"Hah! Soon my friends, the beasts of this wood shall pour into our waiting arms, ready for us to slay them for the feast. Great sport what!" Aldern slurred a little as he spoke. His mount had managed to close a little closer to Ira's and he slipped the monk a conspiratorial wink. "Nothing you can't handle though Ira, eh? Why I reckon you won't even need to boar spears we bought with us to the hunt. Not with a body honed for combat such as yours eh?" It was the third such comment the noble had made on the trip, and it was becoming a little irksome.
Raimos of course hadn't escaped his own nobles attentions. Lady Nessa moved in close to him, her horse pressing so close that her thighs pressed against Raimos' own leg. She leaned over, as if to whisper something about the hunt, but what she asked him was a question usually reserved for the Calistrian priestesses or the Red houses of town. Apparently nobles weren't backwards in coming forwards, especially when they were drunk.
Crokus mumbled to himself, still put out by the noble's reaction to his compliment.
"I don't know what he was so worked up about, it was a compliment! My mom's as strong as an ox and has a luxurious mustache, I figured he'd take it as it was meant. Damn nobles have got no manners..."
Crokus dismounted his horse and walked towards the treeline with the intent of relieving himself somewhat out of sight. Not as out of sight as others of delicate sensibility would hope, but...
Zair spent the ride in comfort, unburdened by idle chit chat and the inane nattering of the wealthy and frivolous.
"They at least have the good sense to leave me alone, I'll give them that." he contentedly thought to himself.
He sneered a bit under his hood as the servants wandered off into the woods, beating their drums.
"Leave it to nobles to take all the skill, challenge, and fun out of something as satisfying as hunting." he shook his head to clear it and peered at Aldern. The man seemed to have some strange fixation on Ira, especially how tone and powerful his body was, and it was getting quite annoying to hear him lay a compliment on the Monk every few minutes.
"Just go ahead and-" he stopped himself.
The rest of the group gave him a funny look but he pretended to ignore them.
"-Ask the Monk out on a date, why don't you? I'm sure Desna wouldn't mind, and it'd be a change of pace at least." he finished in his head. Even he had enough tact to avoid saying so out loud, however.
He returned to scanning the area for signs of life.
*...taking mental notes about the individuals and their reactions...almost convincer that our temporary patron has bedding Ira in mind, and chuckling privately over that one...but not judgemental at all...flirting with Lady De'mur, not too outrageously, but enough to hint that a rendezvous could be pleasant...and making small talk designed to discover her actual status...married? Single? Engaged?...*
...mmmm...such a delicious morsel...surely you've got a dozen suitors...or more...just not...any worthy?
...Raimos grins impishly...and watches her eyes for any tell-tale signs.
Diplomacy:
Perception:
Sense Motive:
...as we stop, knowing I'm not in my element, calling Augie over...I want him by my side...as I dismount and get the bow ready. I'll start a quiet chant, and take it up a notch into a full bore bardic recitation for Inspire Courage as soon as anything scary-looking emerges, and fire away.
Handle Animal:
Perception:
Initiative:
Ira ignores Foxglove and dismounts.
The group heard it coming before they saw it. A squealing and thrashing through the shrubs and tree line of Tickwood, and then an amazingly large ball of muscle, tusk and fur burst forth. The boar was bigger than any farm pig would grow. An older male, its tusks yellowed with age and one cracked from ancient combat.
The creature was incensed at the noises that had frightened it from the woodslands, and the sudden bright light made it even angrier. Its beady eyes focused on the nearest target and the creature charged, head down and tusks ready for the attack.
"Once, twice, three times for good luck.", Crokus mutters to himself, and then does his fly back up.
No sooner has he done so than he hears a loud, angry squealing and something crashing through the bushes.
He turns his head to see the boar. A smile cracks his face.
"FINALLY, some action" he exclaims, and he moves over to the creature, pulling his hammer off of his back and swinging it in one fluid motion.
Zair, hearing the crashing, quickly dismounts from his horse and readies his sword and shield, and moves towards the creature
Attack:
Damage:
Moves to flank with Crocus and attacks with a stunning fist
edit -
im allowing the bardic performance to be up for start of combat, so Crokus hits
cheers
The moment the boar burst from the forest the party reacted.
Raimos had been ramping up for this moment, and his voice soared into a crescendo as soon as it happened. The fighters and nobles around him felt themselves lifted to greater feats of battle prowess as his trained voice inspired them.
Crokus rushed into the beast and swung his mighty hammer. Only the added rhythm of Raimos' tune allowed him to pull the move off though. The blunted head of the weapon thudded with a satisfying crunch into the boars side and it screamed in pain, thrashing its head from side to side.
Raimos readied his bow and fired, but the fear of hitting his now too close orkish companion meant the arrow flew wide into the trees. Beside him, Augie had stiffened and the hackles on his neck were raised. It was testamount to how well
edit - lost this half way through when key board died. tried again on ipad and lost the second half to time lag
Augie stayed by the bards side despite clearly wanting to attack.
The boar attacked at random, slashing its tusks hoping to kill the things causing so much pain.
Lady Nessa screamed when she saw the blood from Crokus' massive wound. Her mare was startled and bolted suddenly, dragging the screaming noblewoman away over the fields.
Aldern proved no more efficient, nearly dropping his spear and running his horse into Iras mount beside him.
Crokus reeled in pain, as for the second time this week his body was torn open. Blood flowed freely.
Maddened by pain and anger, Crokus vision fills with red and he lashes out at the dangerous creature again.
Almost incoherent with Rage and pain, Crokus simply screams the word at the top of his lungs as his hammer connects and practically causes the boar to explode into meat chunks and bone shards.
Zair overlooks the whole scenario from afar, glad he is well out of the "splash zone".
The boars head exploded under the vicious assault, its brain case cracking and spraying blood and gore over both Ira and Crokus. The creatures body fell instantly, its legs shaking somewhat as they tried to catch up with the fact the head was no longer sending signals.
A flock of birds flew up and into the air, their long tails and colourful plumage showing they were pheasants, but everyone was still staring at the horrific carnage that Crokus had wrought upon the boar.
There was a clatter of wood and metal and a dull thump as Aldern Foxglove tumbled from his horse, finally losing the battle to control the beast and wield the spear at the same time. Beyond him, Lady Nessa's horse continued to bolt, her screams growing fainter as she went.
The hunt, it seemed, was over.
...Still a bit anxious, Raimos moves over to his wounded friend, putting away the bow and pulling out the wand. Crokus looks like a butcher shop, and Raimos tries hard not to wince as he activates it...
Cure Light:
A mighty blow, my friend...I'd never thought of a boar's skull as fragile until this moment!
...as the wound starts to seal over, Raimos glances at the boar, and makes a mental note to be very wary around raging orcs with hammers...or anything else. Including garden implements.
Crokus slowly calms himself once the threat is ended, and takes a few deep breaths.
He immediately regrets the action, as his gut wound suddenly feels like a furnace has sprung to life in his abdomen.
"Gaaaaaah! Sod it all. I won't even be getting a nice scar out of this one, it's right on top of that old sword wound." he pouts.
Once Raimos wanders over he allows him to use his wand to patch him up a little.
"Thanks, Raimos, I owe you one."
He then rummages through the skull fragments and gore until he finds what he was looking for: The boar's remaining tusk.
"You, little beastie, can have the place of honor on my necklace."
Ira attempts to wipe as much gore as possible from his humble robes, and plans to find a place to clean up as soon as possible...
...when the wound doesn't close fully, Raimos, inspired, attempts to recreate the magic from the wand...and is shocked when he succeeds!
Cure Light:
There you go...good as new! Desna has blessed me!
"Hahaha! Excellent work Raimos. What would I do without you?"
He wraps one beefy arm around Raimos' neck and brings him into a one-armed hug.
Zair reaches the party with bandages in hand before realizing Raimos has it under control.
Crisis averted, he focuses his attention on the boar's trail, looking to see if there was anything unusual that had put the beast in such a frenzy, or if it was just the drums.
Perception:
Survival: