I am healthy. I will take the first watch.
Skane stretches out his aching and battered limbs as he gestures for Wesh to continue;
"Fleiri lækna er þörf vinur prestur" he mutters in a rasping, pained voice...
Fleiri lækna er þörf vinur prestur = More healing needed good priest
The bear leaves his fellow viking in the capable hands of the prestur and heads back to the next unopened cell door.
"Þessi herbergi verða að vera merkt. Þeir eru ekki einu sinni læst."
Wesh will use another use of the wand on skane.
Siral and Bjorn finish examining the rest of the small chambers, finding remains of gnawed and cracked marrow depleted bones, littering the floor. Some bloodstains streak the floor towards an inconspicuous pillar in the south east corner of the room.
Elsewhere the group spends time recuperating in the dead ogre's chambers, a quiet time spent reflecting the success of Bjorn's rescue and other things that transpired.
Time passes and the dead ogre shows it. The stiff inert carcass shows early bloating as the congealed blood on the floor begins to attract small vermin.
Hack steps purposefully to the unopened doors to the West of the Ogre's room.
Bjorn follows Hack's lead.
Wesh also heads towards the the doors on the west room.
Clearing the doorway of litter and junk, the two doors open to a small storeroom, well stocked with a few barrels of pickled onions, dried meat hung and cured, smoked fish. Enough food to last a dozen for couple of weeks.
A weapons rack hold a pair of spears, a halberd and glaive. 2 full quivers and a longbow hang on the wall. A set of leather armor and light wooden shield sits on the floor.
Returning to the site of the blood streaked trail, finding it to lead to a pillar located in the south east corner of the room.
Skane walks over to the small wooden shield, testing its weight and density against his own trusty bulwark.
Bjorn strides over to the suit of leathers. A sneer of disdain curls his lip as he regards the trappings of man. Sighing in resignation, he begins to don the armour. Almost as an afterthought, he scoops up the two spears in a single hand and trudges back out of the armoury.
Should no one else take the quivers, Bjorn will go back in, dump out the arrows, take the quivers and walk back into the storeroom where he fills both the quivers with food and slings them over his shoulder.
Wesh says "Bows are lightweight yet valueable we should not leave this behind but I am not trained in its use but sitll looks useful and deadly."
Skane finds himself more confident relying on his old shield which has seen him weather blows thick and thin rather than risking his hide on an untried sheet of wood.
Backtracking to the pillar, the blood trail looks as if drag marks that end at the base.
After some prodding and handling, a panel slides slightly, revealing beyond a space within the cylindrical structure.
The Vikingr discards the southerner shield with disdain.
He trudges toward where the others have gathered at the panel opening, commenting in a hushed, gravelly voice;
"A food cache? A den for more draugr? Perhaps a torch will shed light nei?"
The hard bitten Northman readies his shield and ax, lest their investigations stir something...
Uncharacteristically, Bjorn holds back and takes up the last position in the procession down the stairs.
Wesh will stay towards the middle.
Hack eagerly nudges his way towards the fron and proceeds right on Skane's heels/
Bearing his shield as both beacon and bulwark, Skane trudges cautiously forward;
:
The rungs of the ladder are caked with crusted flaky coating that smells faintly of iron. On some rungs matted clumps of hair adhere tightly, disintegrating once pulled free.
Skane easily smells the scent of rot, decay and musty air as he descends slowly downwards, shield on back. What he does know the chamber below is pitch black and only after his feet touches the bottom rung does his spell touched shield illuminates the room as some form of burial crypt.
Numerous alcoves line the walls with some of the coffin lids opened and bones littering the floor.
Map.
Wesh loooks around nervously as if expecting something to wait down here.
Hack's feet hit the floor right after Skane's and he peers around into the gloom outside of Skane's lightsource while taking his axe off his back.
Perception:
Betony ties ropes to Thistledown's saddle and under his chest and belly, while the wolf peers over the edge with muscles tensed. " No boy, you ain't jumping. We will lower you. I don't care what you think. Bjorn and us will help lower you, and Skane and Hack are down there to untie you. I will climb down with you to see that you don't get hung up.
She is unsure how much of that gets through, but he doesn't jump. And once she starts on the ladder, Thistledown seems willing to be allowed to be lowered after her.
Once on solid ground, she unties him and remounts and keeps a watch out as the others come down.
Bjorn nods at the wee faerie's words to her hund. Once she is finished and begins to descend, he takes up the rope and runs it over one shoulder and behind his back. The bear shaman crouches down to face Thistledown as he speaks, "Þú ert ekki bera, ekki einu sinni jarfi, en þú ert góður, trúr og grimmur hundur. Þegar þú deyja að lokum, ég mun stoltur klæðast pelt og segja alla sem athugasemd um á henni söguna um glæsilega þinni hálfu. Eins og það mun líklega fela í sér dauða húsmóður þína, mun það gera sögu þína allt meira vert.
Nú, blóm ló þú ert bundin og eru að fara inn í þessi svarthol þar dauða ákaft bíður tækifæri til að rífa hold okkar, eta hjörtu okkar og naga á beinum okkar að sjúga út síðustu mergurinn í lífi okkar. Óttist ekki þetta næstum viss dauða að ég mun vera þarna með þér og endir minn mun draga hönd meyjar Óðins sig. Þeir geta jafnvel taka eftir þegar síðustu dropar af haust undirstaða frá eyðileggja líki Skåne er. Þú munt deyja í góðum félagsskap svo ekki sýna ótta við þvaglát á sjálfur þar sem það mun aðeins smán þína fljótlega til að fórna og taka smá húsmóður þitt í hund reiðan."
Bjorn grins widely at the wolf at his words of wisdom and encouragement. Roughly patting the mount on it's shaggy head, he praises it, "Góður hundur!", and lowers it down.
Now, flower fluff, you are tied and are going into that black hole where death eagerly awaits the opportunity to tear our flesh, devour our hearts and gnaw on our bones to suck out the last marrow of our lives. Do not fear this almost certain death for I will be there with you and my end will draw the handmaidens of Odin himself. They may even notice when the last few drops of lifeblood fall from Skane's ravaged corpse. You will die in good company so do not show fear by pissing yourself as it will only disgrace your soon to be sacrifice and cover your tiny mistress in dog piss.
Góður hundur! = Good dog!
What light that emanates from Skane's shield shows the crypt is sizable, though shrouded in shadow. The screaming silence of what once was is disturbed by the sound of your own breathing.
Wesh feels eyes are upon him from the glooming dark.
:
Skane stares out at the forboding gloom with a grim set to his jaw, one that becomes grimmer as he hears Bjorn's commentary whilst lowering Thistledown;
"Shhh. Þú prattle eins gamallar konu bróður! Að auki ég hélt að Björn aðeins skríður í holur þegar þeir taka vetur svefni sínum. Nú uss áður en ég segist bæði pelts til að hita lengi hús mitt í næsta lífi!"
Shhh. You prattle like an old woman brother! Besides I thought the Bear only crawls into holes when they take their winter sleep. Now hush before I claim both your pelts to warm my long house in the next life!
Skane steps forward allowing space for the remainder to descend;
"Stay by minn shield..."
Hack nods to Skane's words and advances lockstep with him.
A clattering of something dropped from the deep dark south end of the crypt calls for your attention as Skane puts his best foot forward.
Meanwhile Thistledown growls and tenses up.
RRRRrrrrRRRRrrRRzrRR
Wesh wipsers "something is there"
Björn, maintaining his characteristic predatory stillness, sounds out in booming laughter at his shield brother's words. "Þú ert of fyndið, bróðir! Gakktu úr skugga um að þú deyja síðasta svo blóm ló og ég hef ekki tækifæri til að reiðan á gröf þína."
After the wolf is down to Betany, he begins his own descent into the darkness.
Skane looks momentarily skyward wearing a grim smile as Bjorn's roaring laughter booms throughout the chamber.
The Vikingr then moves forward in fighting stance, tapping his axe upon his shield's rim in a rhythmic "clang" with each step;
"Komdu dauða."
Clang!
"Sýn þig Þessi sonur Norður ..."
Clang!
"Látum kalt stál minn smekk kalt hold þitt!"
Clang!
Come death.
Show yourself to this Son of the North...
Let my cold steel taste your cold flesh!
Wesh takes a few half steps forward behind skane.
The Brambleknight ambles over the the west wall. With Nettle held ready, a clear charge lane is open to the south as they await everyone to arrive.