Stryn smiles when he sees Kiley master her fears, at least enough to help them in this task. He pulls out the holy water they received from before "Anyone not planning to use their holy water, give it to me and I will throw them at this thing when we fight it!"
As soon as Kiley steps over the road, the trailgaunt lurches up from its resting place at the base of the tree.
The trailgaunt rushes forward, attacking Kiley with a claw.
The claw scrapes across her armor, but fails to harm her. The trailgaunt seems to be keeping up a string of constant muttering and groaning that is somewhat distressing to those who hear.
Trailgaunt - 25/25
--Sudden Lunge recharge - 0/10
Henric manages to shake of the effects of the undead's unnerving sounds. Maybe I'm getting more used to this kind of thing. Do I really want to be used to it?
The scholar steps out from behind Kiley to get a better angle before pointing his staff at the creature and saying "Forzare!" causing a spear of flame to shoot towards the monster.
Kiley growls away the fear and instead focuses on the anger she feels. It wasn't much, but it was enough for her to keep her wits. She steps around the Trailgaunt, opening up a flank for Stryn as she studies the creature and finds the parts where it looks weakest. Her blade comes slicing in like a silvered bolt of lightning.
Fortune or Desna herself looked to be smiling on Renae as she seemed to be out of range of whatever supernatural aura the trailgaunt was trying to afflict. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that after their run in with the bandits she was running out of her spells.
Still, even with that being the case, it didn't stop Renae from finding some way to contribute to the fight. Fetching a scroll from her pack, the wizard read aloud its contents in a firm, commanding voice that immediately activated the scroll's magic. With the scroll itself now worthless, Renae focused its energies to Kiley who suddenly started to grow!
Whispers. Veiled whispers and menacing murmurs in the dark corners of his mind. This was how Hal perceived the undead's mutterings, as if they came not from the decaying mouth before them but instead flowed from some similarly rotten portal within his own head. His long ears flickered in concern. It was the strangest case of deja vu. Why did this seem so familiar? Hal couldn't recall ever hearing voices, even when he was at his lowest at the asylum, and yet... no, he couldn't remember. He shouldn't remember. Huh, where had that thought come from?
The elf smiled. How wonderfully intriguing. Reaching into a deep pocket his hand reemerged with a flask in its long-fingered grip. Stryn had been right to mention this particular weapon against the undead. Lobbing the vial high in the air, far higher than necessary, it nevertheless came down exactly as intended, as a little gleaming meteorite to shatter on top of the ghoulie's head.
As the undead start mumbling the sound is extremely unnerving and Stryn shivers a bit as it seems to have an effect on him. Never the less as the others move to engage the thing Stryn tosses one of the flasks of holy water at it.
Fortune or Desna herself looked to be smiling on Renae as she seemed to be out of range of whatever supernatural aura the trailgaunt was trying to afflict. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that after their run in with the bandits she was running out of her spells. Still, even with that being the case, it didn't stop Renae from finding some way to contribute to the fight. Fetching a scroll from her pack, the wizard read aloud its contents in a firm, commanding voice that immediately activated the scroll's magic. With the scroll itself now worthless, Renae focused its energies to Kiley who suddenly started to grow!
Kiley growls away the fear and instead focuses on the anger she feels. It wasn't much, but it was enough for her to keep her wits. She steps around the Trailgaunt, opening up a flank for Stryn as she studies the creature and finds the parts where it looks weakest. Her blade comes slicing in like a silvered bolt of lightning.
As the undead starts mumbling the sound is extremely unnerving and Stryn shivers a bit as it seems to have an effect on him. Never the less as the others move to engage the thing Stryn tosses one of the flasks of holy water at it. He throws to far, though, and it breaks on Kiley, who is now a little damp. The splash sizzles as it hits the trailgaunt's flesh.
Whispers. Veiled whispers and menacing murmurs in the dark corners of his mind. This was how Hal perceived the undead's mutterings, as if they came not from the decaying mouth before them but instead flowed from some similarly rotten portal within his own head. His long ears flickered in concern. It was the strangest case of deja vu. Why did this seem so familiar? Hal couldn't recall ever hearing voices, even when he was at his lowest at the asylum, and yet... no, he couldn't remember. He shouldn't remember. Huh, where had that thought come from? The elf smiled. How wonderfully intriguing. Reaching into a deep pocket his hand reemerged with a flask in its long-fingered grip. Stryn had been right to mention this particular weapon against the undead. Lobbing the vial high in the air, far higher than necessary, it nevertheless came down exactly as intended, as a little gleaming meteorite to shatter on top of the ghoulie's head. The water sizzles as it runs down the undead's head.
Henric manages to shake of the effects of the undead's unnerving sounds. Maybe I'm getting more used to this kind of thing. Do I really want to be used to it? The scholar steps out from behind Kiley to get a better angle before pointing his staff at the creature and saying "Forzare!" causing a spear of flame to shoot towards the monster. The flames engulf the trailgaunt, and the undead screams as it falls to the ground, unmoving.
Stryn gives the others a hesitant smile and looks to Kiley as he says "Sorry, but good job!"
He looks at the corpses of the guards and then back to the group "Didn't someone say we had to do something special with the bodies or something?"
At Stryn's words Renae issued out a warning and reminder to the others as the trailgaunt's corpse lay burning and unmoving before them. "Yes," Renae answered quickly. "We need to give this monster's victims a proper funeral. If not here than back in Roderic's Cove. If not, we risk the chance of them raising again tomorrow morning."
"I don't think we can carry them back with us," Kiley says sadly as she looks down at Renae. After a moment, she looks puzzled, then she grins.
"Ha! I'm the tallest person in the group now! Maybe I can carry them myself," She says, as she breaks out a grin that shows off her pointed teeth. "No more shall you call me shorty, little ones!"
Stryn considers the two women's words, at least before Kiley starts joking about her size. He notes "Well, maybe it is better we bury them here and take their gear back to their families or something, right? That is the good thing to do isn't it?
After shaking himself from the shock of defeating the creature so easily, Henric nods in agreement with the others. "Taking the time to lay these men to rest would be good, I think, not only for our safety, but for the peace of mind of the families, and the town in general I think."
KIley sobers up as the conversation returns to interring the guards remains.
"See if they have anything personal on them. I'll go see if I can find some rocks for their cairn," she says before turning to go look in the woods.
Stryn nods as the others confirm his idea. He goes to check the bodies of not only the guards but also the undead they just killed. Afterwards he will help to dig two graves so they can bury the bodies, before the group heads back to town to retrieve pickles and tell the captain what happened.
"Right you are, Renae," the elf said at the wizard's recount of a trailgaunt 'reproduction'. "Bury them we shall. Wouldn't want any more these nasties bothering people."
Death indeed being fairly bothersome, he looked over the corpses. He was hoping to find a shield. Well, no, he was hoping to find a shovel, but this being a bit too much to hope for, a shield or other flat implement would do. Digging at the ground with one's hands was a bit cumbersome.
Each of the guards has longsword, shortbow with arrows, wooden shield, and studded leather armor, along with a waterskin and a backpack containing three days of trail rations. The undead has nothing on him, but hanging over a low branch of the tree, Stryn finds what looks like a silver holy symbol of Desna.
Kiley doesn't find many rocks for a cairn, so digging the graves takes several hours. By the time you finish, evening has fallen.
While not the most physically capable of people, Henric doesn't back down from helping to dig the graves. By the time they're done with the task, his armored coat and hat are sitting in a pile nearby and sweat is dripping off the young scholar's face.
After a few moments to compose himself and dry off, he dons his outfit once more and stands with the others over the fresh graves. "I'm not exactly the most qualified to speak on behalf of the dead, but I can try, if you want. Maybe someone knows a few lines of text from Desna's scripture? Might be appropriate, based on what Stryn found."
Just as they finish Stryn dusts his hands off on his clothes and calls out "Good work, let's go get some food!"
As Henric speaks up and mentions saying something Stryn halfheartedly nods as his stomach grumbles, and he does his best to stand their patiently waiting for them to talk at the dead.
Knowing Stryn is starving, because her own stomach is growling, Kiley decides that a simple blessing would do.
"May the road that carries you be long and easy. May the people you meet become lifelong friends. May your days be full of wonder and the night sky ever full of stars," she says, prays really, over the graves. She was feeling the work all over her, and her arms quiver as she plants a sword in the ground and left the holy symbol hanging from the cross piece as a marker.
"In my caravan, we'd weep for the dead, then eat a big feast while remembering them. I did not know those men, but maybe we can find a little cheer tonight. Who knows? Maybe we can cheer up everybody in town."
He was a rather silly sight, Hælador Færvel, as he sat on his bony bum, covered in dirt and playing with an earthworm with child-like wonder. The worm was one of the treasures he'd found in digging the graves; beside him lay also a few grimy rocks he'd found particularly interesting. The elf had already forgotten about them. Prone to such impulses, he hadn't been overly helpful with the digging. Still, he had clearly taken an interest in preventing the rise of any more undead, so that was something.
It was similarly evident, however, that the cleric was completely indifferent to the actual dead. Fortunate that Kiley said a prayer for them, because not only did he ignore them, Hal wouldn't even know what to say if pressed. His was a gospel of happiness, personal fulfillment and living life to the fullest. It was a faith for the living. Where there was life there was no death, and where death, no life. The dead were irrelevant to Hal.
This was how he managed his grief.
But those surviving were not. Friends and family of the deceased mattered, and so the elf was wholly in favor of the tiefling's suggestion.
"Hear hear!" he said. "Let's see if we can find the good Madam Hellen and get back to town."
Scoping up a fistful of dirt, he dropped it into a deep pocket of the ill-fitting robes. Then he gingerly placed the worm down there too. There. That would make a nice home for the dear.
A trek back through the woods to the river reveals that Hallen has already left for home. The ferry is tied off over on the other side of the river, and there is no sign of the halfling.
"Well, it looks like we're camping out tonight," Kiley says as she looks up and down the bank for Hallen the ferrywoman.
"So, do we have any food that I can cook, " she asks looking at the others.
Stryn kicks at the dirt as they find the ferry no longer in operation as he grumbles "I was looking forward to some delicious food and drink!" When Kiley mentions setting up camp he shrugs and then asks the others "Um... so maybe since we are stuck on this side of the river for tonight, we should go ahead and scout out the stone house? Then we can get pickles in the morning and deal with the goblins?"
"We could, but it's already been a long day, and that is something that I'd like to handle after a nice long rest so that we're fresh and ready. Besides, after burying those poor men, I want to take my mind off the bad things that are happening around the Cove. I've got a bunch of stories that I've been wanting to tell, and..." Kiley's smile falters as she stops talking. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve, sniffling a little.
"I just realized I never did get a chance to celebrate the lives of my family," she says, sniffling a little more as she tries to put on a smile, but can't quite hold it.
"I'm afraid that I wouldn't be of much help with scouting, but I agree that making camp for the night may be our best course of action. Preferably somewhere that these bandits can't easily stumble over us. While we sleep."
Stryn shrugs and then nods "Ok, we camp then." He looks for a good spot to setup camp and then points to a ridge not to far from the ferry "Camp there? It's a little off the beaten path but still can see ferry so we know when we can cross again."
Moving over to the spot he will help anyone setup their tent or the like if needed, but eventually his stomach rumbling gets the best of him and he looks to the others "Anyone good hunter to find some fresh food? Much better than rations if we can catch something!"
"Sorry, I've never really had to learn," Kiley says as she gets the cookfire going, "but I do know how to cook these rations so they are at least tasty if no one else is a hunter."
"Making camp sounds good," Renae piped in with a relieved smile as she started to help set-up camp. Her spells were pretty much exhausted at this point and having a night's rest would certainly hope to re-energize her resources.
You camp behind a small ridge - defensible, yet with a good view of the ferry. Unfortunately, no one is particularly skilled in hunting, so it's a meal of rations for dinner. After an evening of camaraderie, you head to bed.
The night passes without incident, and you awaken with the dawn. Breakfast is the same as dinner, and about an hour after you've gotten up, you see Hallen come walking up to the ferry with her folding chair to sit and wait for those who want to cross the ferry. Seeing you waiting on the bank, she hops on the ferry and pulls it across. Once she's there, she motions you to come aboard, asking, "Well, how'd it go? Did you find the missing guards or the dwarves?"
"Yes and sort of," Kiley says sheepishly, "The guards were beyond our reach, but we have put down the m-monster that slew them and have laid them to rest. The dwarves are trickier. They are still alive, but the way to their captors is through a barrel of pickles back in town."
Hallen gives Kiley a funny look at the mention of a barrel of pickles, but says, "Well, that's something, at least. Come on, then, I'll run you back across so you can head into town."
You all board the ferry and cross the river. A short while later, the ferry touches down on the far bank, and you head back into town.
Stryn stays in the back once again letting the others do the talking, keeping his hood pulled over to avoid any potential problems. When they are on the other side he notes "Let's go tell the Captain what we've found out, then we can get supplies to deal with the goblins?"
1st – Ear-Piercing Scream (DC 15), Grease (DC 15), Mage Armor, Sleep (2, DC 16)
0 (At Will) – Daze (DC 15), Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Read Magic
Renae had walked back into the Cove obviously relieved that she and the party were back in civilization. They'd only been gone for a day or so but a night in the Churlwood had made her appreciate the creature comforts of her hometown all over again. "Sounds like a plan. Hopefully the good Captain is already in the guardhouse.
"I just hope Francis isn't there," Kiley mutters as she falls in behind the more respectable Renae.
You make the walk back to town without incident, and arrive slightly more disheveled than when you left, but otherwise in good shape. Walking through the town to the Cove Guardhouse, you enter to find Captain Freson talking with another woman you recognize as her second-in-command, Keela Macrosh.
Seeing you come in, Captain Freson turns and asks, "Ah, good to see you. Did you find either the Dwarves or the missing guardsmen?"
Henric tips his hat in greeting to Captain Freson before answering, "Your guardsmen, unfortunately, fell prey to a local undead creature that was roaming a part of the road. We were able to dispatch the creature and give the men a proper burial, which is why we were gone so long. We made sure to bring their belongings for you." The young scholar goes on to discuss the bandits that they crossed on the other side of the river, and the information that they received from them. "We were going to find the dwarves at this stone house, but ran into some of the goblins in the area. We promised them a vat of pickles for lettings us through peacefully."
After finishing his story, it dawns on him that his speech was more straight forward and confident than it would have been in the past. His teacher always chastised him for his stuttering and quiet nature. Perhaps a little travel with some trusted companions through dangerous circumstances has had a greater affect on him than he could have imagined.
Stryn stands in the back, his cloak pulled up. Even though they've spoken with the captain before he still is uncomfortable being around all this law enforcement. Not out of fear for being caught for something he has done, since he has been doing his best to be good, but more just because he is a goblin and he knows how the longshanks generally view his kind. Plus, he doesn't want to distract from the others talking with the captain.
Kiley stands there, waiting in silence as it grew long and awkward.
As the party moved out to meet Captain Freson Renae found herself battling the desire to laugh out aloud at Kiley mention of Francis's name. "Heh, uh, yes, it would be in our best interest if Francis the–" she nearly snorted as the caught herself. "If Francis wasn't there. I doubt he'd be delighted to see you Kiley given The Incident. Though the look on his poor face may be worth the trouble. Renae shook her head at that. It was unbecoming. Funny, but still unbecoming. Francis may have been a fool and a layabout but he wasn't an entirely terrible person. Renae made the mental note not to immediately break into chortling if they did see him at the guardhouse. A challenge on to itself if there ever was one.
Fortunately for the wizard and Francis, it was a one none issue as the man himself wasn't there. So instead Renae watched as Henric gave the captain of the guard a surprisingly confident summary of their misadventure in the Churlwood and strange deal with the goblins.
As the party moved out to meet Captain Freson Renae found herself battling the desire to laugh out aloud at Kiley mention of Francis's name. "Heh, uh, yes, it would be in our best interest if Francis the–" she nearly snorted as the caught herself. "If Francis wasn't there. I doubt he'd be delighted to see you Kiley given The Incident. Though the look on his poor face may be worth the trouble. Renae shook her head at that. It was unbecoming. Funny, but still unbecoming. Francis may have been a fool and a layabout but he wasn't an entirely terrible person. Renae made the mental note not to immediately break into chortling if they did see him at the guardhouse. A challenge on to itself if there ever was one.
"I don't think the ballad helped any," Kiley muses, now fighting a laugh herself. "I can't say that was my finest moment."
As they walk to the guardhouse and Kiley and Renae hold back laughter Stryn quirks his brow. "What's the deal with this Francis guy that is so funny?"
Captain Freson's face grows sad, and she sighs. "It's what I was afraid of, but there was always some hope they were okay. You say some undead slew them? It isn't something we've trained for here in Roderic's Cove, so they were probably hopelessly overmatched. At least you took care of that creature, though."
Captain Freson walks over to her desk. "You said the dwarves are alive, and you need some pickles to get past their sentries? Well, if we can rescue them, then maybe things won't be so bad. Here." Captain Freson unlocks a safe, and pulls out several bags of coin. "This is a reward for killing that undead creature. I've got some if you can rescue the Dwarves as well."
The Captain locks up the safe, then says, "Do you think it would be a problem if I had some guards move their bodies from where you buried them to the graveyard? It would be good for their families."
"What was it you said, Renae?" the elf queried the wizard in response to Freson's own question. "The bodies would animate unless buried in time? For if that's the case, it should hopefully be perfectly safe to move them now, they having spent a night in the dirt. Hopefully."
Picking up a bag of jingling coins in his long-fingered grip, Hal tossed it lightly between his hands, getting a feel for its heft and weight. The resulting metallic clicks seemed to amuse him.
"Whatever makes their families happy, captain," he chirped cheerfully. Yes, whatever made the families happy. After all, the bodies were just rotting meat now. Move them to your heart's content! Who cared about worm food? Not the cleric, no siree. The dead were dead and totally irrelevant to him. Only the silliest of people cared about some decaying meat when there was fun to be had and life to live. Hal only cared for the living.
But of course, the families were still alive. And they did care. And it was the cleric's ethos to facilitate whatever it took to make people happy. Obviously funerals were completely meaningless gestures, a whole lot of hullabaloo to lower some inanimate matter into a ditch. But then all of creation was similarly meaningless. If it mattered to those still living, if it lessened their grief, then the elf was all for it. Happiness in life was all that mattered.
He had now progressed to playing hacky sack with the bag of gold. "Should we get those pickles now?" he asked between knee kicks, eyes furrowed in concentration and mouth smiling.
Stryn rolls his eyes and shakes his head as the elf starts playing hacky sack with the coin purse, and waits for an opening to snatch it before he ends up breaking the bag and spilling coins all over the place. He does his best to not draw attention and then take the coin purse and stand out of the way.
Henric nods to the Captain in thanks, then adds, "It's probably safe to move the bodies, but it wouldn't hurt to take a priest, just in case. As soon as we have news about the dwarves, you'll be the first to know."