Morning comes to the Grey district of Korvosa, and with it time to rest. The clergy of Pharasma gathers in the Dawn Hall after a sleepless vigilant night. Such nights are not uncommon for those entrusted with insuring the dead are not disturbed from their eternal peaceful sleep, but three such nights in a row is uncommon.
Stannus assumes the chair at the head of the table in Bishop d'Bear's stead. There are mutters of annoyance, resentment, even loathing, among the clergy. For him to do so three mornings in a row is also uncommon. What can be keeping d'Bears so long at the King Eodred's sickbed?
As usual when Stannus presides, the ritual reading is brief The day's inspirational sermon, even more so. Assignments and business for the day quickly become the primary topic. The Pharasmen break up to sleep or attend their duties as directed. As usual when Stannus presides, the Temple feels more like a barracks.
Having been given no instructions, Istas assumes she is free to seek out her pallet and rest. She rises from her meal and is turning to leave when Stannus speaks, "Shote girl." (Shoanti girl, Stannus is an uncommonly arrogant Chelaxian.) "Round up two noobs and make a sweep of the Potters Ward. There was movement down there last night, but Lily couldn't pin it down."
...Stannus speaks, "Shote girl." (Shoanti girl, Stannus is an uncommonly arrogant Chelaxian.) "Round up two noobs and make a sweep of the Potters Ward. There was movement down there last night, but Lily couldn't pin it down."
Istas regards Stannus for a quiet moment, allowing the racial slur to slide past verbally unchallenged. But she stretches the silence long enough to make it clear she probably doesn't appreciate the remark. Still, as arrogant as the Chelaxian can be, she does't wish to stir up trouble among Pharasma's devotees, especially since that won't reflect well on her as a recent addition to Dawn Hall.
"Potter's Ward?" she asks, "Who would visit or disturb the graves of Korvosa's poor and homeless? Is Lily certain she saw someone there? It seems unlikely."
"Potter's Ward?" she asks, "Who would visit or disturb the graves of Korvosa's poor and homeless? Is Lily certain she saw someone there? It seems unlikely."
"Whether she actually saw anything or not is beside the point. Someone needs to check it out. If you find anything report back to me immediately. I'll be in the office or in the Crypt of the Auroch."
"Whether she actually saw anything or not is beside the point. Someone needs to check it out. If you find anything report back to me immediately. I'll be in the office or in the Crypt of the Auroch."
"As you bid," Istas stoically indicates acceptance of the task. She returns to her room, perplexed by multiple things.
'Why would anyone venture into Potter's Ward? The poor and homeless are laid to rest there. Most of them in unmarked graves. So it's doubtful any of their family would visit those they lost...and that's assuming they could find them,' she muses.
'No, it's more likely some troublemakers,' she assumes, 'Children or vagabonds using the graveyard for shelter. Or perhaps a few lawbreakers have marked it as a good place to escape notice while bartering stolen goods and services. They should know better. The Pharasmen remain ever-vigilant in the Grey District. They'd be well-suited to find another place to spend their time. And if they refuse...I may have to persuade them.'
As these thoughts occur to Istas, she busies herself by donning her armor. It's Shoanti-made leather with scraps of bone studding the surface. Her grandfather made it. And Istas kept it in good repair with a little help from Kaddok, another former-Shoanti who chose to settle in Korvosa. Her thoughts kept straying to him a lot these days. If anyone in the Chelish city could understand her uneasiness in the south lands, it would be Kaddok. He didn't exactly approve of her association with the Pharasmen...particularly Stannis. But even Kaddok didn't fully understand the ways of the Skoan-Quah and their affinity for the dead. Istas felt more at home in the temple and with her faith than even her own tribemates back in the Cinderlands.
'It's for the best,' she reminds herself, 'You're already dead to most of them. Better to live as tshamek than have everyone look upon you as the walking dead.'
Tugging her tunic over her head, she covers her grandfather's armor and takes up her shield and spear as well. 'Armed to the teeth,' she thinks, 'But it's best to be so if I travel alone...' For Istas has no intention of taking any of the newer Pharasmen with her. A Shoanti...even one having lived a couple of years in a foreign land...travels best alone. And Istas intends to hunt.
Stepping out of the eastward-looking front door of the temple, Istas is assaulted by the bright sun and oppressive heat of the new day.
Most of the district of Gray stretches before her in a long gently sloped downhill run to the Jeggare River. For the most part it is open field, dotted with grave markers and small above ground crypts, which diminish in magnificence the further one goes down the hill. Halfway down the hill on the north side are two larger mausoleums which flank the gates through the wall between Gray and the city proper. All the way down, hard by the eastern wall of Gray, is the somewhat broken piece of land housing the poorest of the dead, Potter's Ward.
A bird flits by. A work party is grooming the grounds along the southern wall. The city sounds drift faintly over the wall. Otherwise nothing breaks the morning's close stillness.
A bird flits by. A work party is grooming the grounds along the southern wall. The city sounds drift faintly over the wall. Otherwise nothing breaks the morning's close stillness.
Istas takes a moment to pause amid the graves. She closes her eyes and soaks up the sun, listening to the birds and the sounds of life emanating from the city in the distance. "Restful," she remarks, "Let's hope it stays that way."
She offers a quick prayer to the Lady of Graves, seeking her wisdom for the task at hand.
Then, Istas approaches the work party to converse with them. "Kel-grish!" she announces in Shoanti and then repeats her words in the common tongue, "Greetings."
"I was wondering if I might have a word with you," she explains, "A fellow Pharasmen claims she saw some activity here last night. Did any of you perhaps find anything unusual in Potter's Ward when you arrived?"
The workcrew foreman doffs his cap. "Sorry, ma'am. We've not seen a thing. We picked up our tools at the shed yonder and came straight here to shore up this headstone and continue the trimming." The headstone in question is tilting slightly to the right. It looks like runoff from the path uphill is washing out the ground around the base of it.
The workcrew foreman doffs his cap. "Sorry, ma'am. We've not seen a thing. We picked up our tools at the shed yonder and came straight here to shore up this headstone and continue the trimming."
"Thank you," Istas smiles reassuringly, "And thank you for taking care of Potter's Ward. It helps to keep the spirits at ease."
She shades her eyes with one hand while scanning the rest of the graveyard. "I'm going to have a look around. If you should happen to come across anything suspicious or out of place, please let me know. My name is Istas Wraithscar. And if you don't find me among the gravestones here, I'll be at Dawn Hall later in the day."
With that, Istas takes her leave and begins a systematic search of the grounds. First, she visits the mausoleums to ensure looters haven't somehow gained entry into any of the larger tombs. She specifically looks for fresh tracks in the mud or trampled grass. Then, she examines the smaller headstones row-by-row to determine if any of the sites have had recently upturned earth.
Upon finding anything interesting or suspicious, she uses one of the scrolls provided by Stannus to determine if any undead lurk in the area...
With that, Istas takes her leave and begins a systematic search of the grounds. First, she visits the mausoleums to ensure looters haven't somehow gained entry into any of the larger tombs. She specifically looks for fresh tracks in the mud or trampled grass. Then, she examines the smaller headstones row-by-row to determine if any of the sites have had recently upturned earth.
Upon finding anything interesting or suspicious, she uses one of the scrolls provided by Stannus to determine if any undead lurk in the area...
Istas begins near the south wall, moving east. Almost immediately she finds a large number of white and grey feathers, many bent or broken, scattered over a 2' circle. Something must have killed one of the large gulls which frequent the city. Examination of the area yields a faint blood trail heading east. The trail soon runs out.
Istas begins near the south wall, moving east. Almost immediately she finds a large number of white and grey feathers, many bent or broken, scattered over a 2' circle. Something must have killed one of the large gulls which frequent the city. Examination of the area yields a faint blood trail heading east. The trail soon runs out.
Istas' eyes narrow suspiciously at the sight. 'I doubt a dog or wild animal managed to get into Potter's Ward to catch a gull that size,' she muses, 'Perhaps Lily did see something down here?'
Once the trail runs out, Istas takes stock of any nearby graves, tombs, mausoleums, or other structures. She removes one of the scrolls Stannus provided and then picks what seems the most likely hiding places for any undead or ne'er-do-wells. Unrolling the parchment, she confidently recites the words to reveal souls Pharasma would claim for her Boneyard.
[ 'Perhaps Lily did see something down here?'
Once the trail runs out, Istas takes stock of any nearby graves, tombs, mausoleums, or other structures. She removes one of the scrolls Stannus provided and then picks what seems the most likely hiding places for any undead or ne'er-do-wells. Unrolling the parchment, she confidently recites the words to reveal souls Pharasma would claim for her Boneyard.
The spell's mana washes through Istas and out, rebounding and drawing back to her without disturbance.
The spell's mana washes through Istas and out, rebounding and drawing back to her without disturbance.
With a frown, Istas puts away her scroll case. 'I hope Stannus doesn't mind if the results come back negative,' she thinks, 'Perhaps he'll consider that an answer in itself? After all, if the walking dead didn't attract Lily's notice and kill the seagull, maybe we're dealing with a different kind of problem altogether?'
She then reverts to the skills she honed living among the Cinderlands for most of her life. She searches for unexpected scents on the wind, sounds that don't belong, and any physical evidence that seems out of place.
Hard against Gray's eastern wall are a series of grass-covered mounds where the poorest of the poor are laid without benefit of shelter, coffin, or headstone. Sighting along the bloodtrail, Istas sees an area where the long grass lays strangely, against the grain of the surrounding grass. Stirring the grass reveals a small tunnel burrowing into the mound.
Hard against Gray's eastern wall are a series of grass-covered mounds where the poorest of the poor are laid without benefit of shelter, coffin, or headstone. Sighting along the bloodtrail, Istas sees an area where the long grass lays strangely, against the grain of the surrounding grass. Stirring the grass reveals a small tunnel burrowing into the mound.
'Hello...' Istas says to herself, 'What have we here? An animal's burrow? No...too large for that, I think.' She sighs and whispers a short plea to Pharasma for guidance in dark places.
The comet depicted on the holy symbol around her neck begins to glow softly. Istas thanks the Lady of Graves and then prepares her shield and spear before entering the tunnel to investigate.
Hard against Gray's eastern wall are a series of grass-covered mounds where the poorest of the poor are laid without benefit of shelter, coffin, or headstone. Sighting along the bloodtrail, Istas sees an area where the long grass lays strangely, against the grain of the surrounding grass. Stirring the grass reveals a small tunnel burrowing into the mound.'Hello...' Istas says to herself, 'What have we here? An animal's burrow? No...too large for that, I think.' She sighs and whispers a short plea to Pharasma for guidance in dark places.
The comet depicted on the holy symbol around her neck begins to glow softly. Istas thanks the Lady of Graves and then prepares her shield and spear before entering the tunnel to investigate.
The tunnel is small. A St. Bernard could probably wriggle in. Istas can too, but as she will be wriggling on her belly or at most on her hands and knees with her head banging the ceiling, there will be precious little room to wield a shield and spear. The tunnel turns almost immediately to the left (north) and seems to run parallel to the mound face a couple of feet below the surface. Looking down the tunnel bits of corpses in various stages of decay protrude from the walls, ceiling and floor.
The tunnel is small. A St. Bernard could probably wriggle in. Istas can too, but as she will be wriggling on her belly or at most on her hands and knees with her head banging the ceiling, there will be precious little room to wield a shield and spear.
As Istas slides into the tight confines of the tunnel, she has to pause a moment and close her eyes to steel herself against the claustrophia. The last time she'd felt the smothering embrace of so much dirt and rock, her family had left her for dead in a Shoanti burial mound.
"Pharasma guide me and keep me safe," she whispers. Opening her eyes, she sets aside her shield, leaving it behind in case Stannus or Lily or someone else might come looking for her. She drags the spear along with her, hoping it will prove more useful as a sharp weapon to poke at anything dangerous she might meet. Thankfully, the light from her holy symbol gives her plenty of illumination to see her way.
The tunnel turns almost immediately to the left (north) and seems to run parallel to the mound face a couple of feet below the surface. Looking down the tunnel bits of corpses in various stages of decay protrude from the walls, ceiling and floor.
The sight causes Istas to frown. Something clearly had defiled these graves. Animal or not, she vows to punish it. Steeling herself once more, she continues crawling.
Dirt crumbles down upon Istas from the ceiling as she moves along prompting thoughts of the ceiling collapsing. Insects and worms burrow in the dirt, and soon in her armour too. The air is rank with the odor of mold and decay.
After some 20 or 30 yards, a tunnel branches to the right (east). In this side tunnel the walls are composed less of earth, and more of body parts.
Dirt crumbles down upon Istas from the ceiling as she moves along prompting thoughts of the ceiling collapsing. Insects and worms burrow in the dirt, and soon in her armour too. The air is rank with the odor of mold and decay.
Istas has to stifle a sneeze to keep from giving away her approach. The damp mold of the southlands being so close to the sea always seems to plague her allergies...something she never had to face in the dryness of the Cinderlands.
'How much further does this go?' Istas wonders, 'And how much further can I go?' She pauses in the tunnel to collect herself once more. Would Stannus accept a simple theory that some wild animal had dug such a tunnel, savaging local seagulls and cadavers alike? If so, she could turn back now and escape the crushing closeness of the damp earth around her.
'What if it collapses? What if I'm trapped?!'
A sense of panic starts to rise in the priestess and she has to close her eyes again. 'Asleep...' she tells herself, focusing on slowing her breathing, 'Just pretend you're at home...at the temple...asleep in your blankets. It isn't a tunnel. Just a place of comfort like any other. If the Lady of Graves can embrace the dead in such a place, then why should I be any less comfortable because of simple dirt over my head? It's only Pharasma's blanket to keep the dead warm...and now her priestess as well.'
The reminder and her faith helps to calm her down.
'Stannus will never think it was just an animal unless I confirm it,' she decides, 'He's too paranoid of the walking dead...and zealous in rooting them out. If I don't come back with confirmation one way or the other, he'll never be satisfied and I'll give him a real reason to view me in a lesser light than the rest of the Pharasmen.'
She opens her eyes.
'C'mon...let's see this through...'
After some 20 or 30 yards, a tunnel branches to the right (east). In this side tunnel the walls are composed less of earth, and more of body parts.
Istas pauses to consider her choices. Continue ahead or turn to the right?
'It would seem that direction has more of the dead exposed and disturbed from their rest. Perhaps I should put them back in order before whatever dug this tunnel comes back? Then, I can deal with what lies ahead.'
She follows the tunnel to the right, stopping along the way to examine and replace any body parts strewn about the ground. Small blessings and devoted prayers tumble from her lips as she ministers to the unlucky dead, apologizing for whatever brought them pain or confusion in the digging of the tunnel.
'If only you could tell me what did this...' she thinks, 'That alone might prepare me better. And it would certainly help Stannus understand what happened here.'
Trying to repack the dead is a tiring, nearly futile job. After all the tunnel essentially runs through the burial mound's core of corpses. Istas perseveres, slowly working her way east through the mound. She is trying to press an elbow back into the tunnel wall when a low growling reaches her ears. The sound comes from in front of her.
Trying to repack the dead is a tiring, nearly futile job. After all the tunnel essentially runs through the burial mound's core of corpses. Istas perseveres, slowly working her way east through the mound.
'Tiring, thankless work,' Istas tells herself, 'But those who would thank me for it no longer have voices to do so. Rest in peace, friends. And with the knowledge I will find what did this to you and prevent it from ever doing so again...or to anyone else.'
She is trying to press an elbow back into the tunnel wall when a low growling reaches her ears. The sound comes from in front of her.
A chill runs down Istas' spine and she freezes in place. Slowly, she readies her spear and turns her head to look down the tunnel.
'Sounds more like an animal...' she thinks, 'Though some of the walking dead are already less than human. Could they make such a noise?'
She reaches for the comet medallion around her neck, closing her fingers around it to dim some of the light. 'Whatever it is, perhaps it's already seen me...drawn to the light...and the sound of my movement. Maybe if I lessen the light, it will draw it closer...close enough to then brighten things and see it.'
Istas strains to listen for anything approaching her from the darkness above, setting her spear ahead of her in case it tries to charge. And then she offers a small prayer to Pharasma to prepare her further. "Fill me with life, so I might face death and live," she whispers aloud.
A chill runs down Istas' spine and she freezes in place. Slowly, she readies her spear and turns her head to look down the tunnel.
'Sounds more like an animal...' she thinks, 'Though some of the walking dead are already less than human. Could they make such a noise?'
She reaches for the comet medallion around her neck, closing her fingers around it to dim some of the light. 'Whatever it is, perhaps it's already seen me...drawn to the light...and the sound of my movement. Maybe if I lessen the light, it will draw it closer...close enough to then brighten things and see it.'
Istas strains to listen for anything approaching her from the darkness above, setting her spear ahead of her in case it tries to charge. And then she offers a small prayer to Pharasma to prepare her further. "Fill me with life, so I might face death and live," she whispers aloud.
Istas waits in the shadowed tunnel. Long moments marked by her pounding heart pass. The growling rises and falls rythmically through several cycles, then the preistesses straining ears detect a slight wheeze between growls. Snoring?
The tunnel bends slightly ahead obscuring what lies beyond.
Istas waits in the shadowed tunnel. Long moments marked by her pounding heart pass. The growling rises and falls rythmically through several cycles, then the preistesses straining ears detect a slight wheeze between growls. Snoring?....The tunnel bends slightly ahead obscuring what lies beyond.
'Sated on seagull, perhaps?' Istas figures, 'And time for a nap? Now might be the best time to catch it unawares.'
Ever so gently and with a Shoanti hunter's silence, she begins to creep forward.
The priestess keeps one hand wrapped over her holy symbol to dim its light, crawling with the aid of her elbow instead. In the other, she drags along her grandfather's spear, careful to keep its pointed end directed at the noise as she closes ground. Reaching the bend in the tunnel, she pauses and leans ahead of the spear momentarily to peek around the corner.
The priestess keeps one hand wrapped over her holy symbol to dim its light, crawling with the aid of her elbow instead. In the other, she drags along her grandfather's spear, careful to keep its pointed end directed at the noise as she closes ground. Reaching the bend in the tunnel, she pauses and leans ahead of the spear momentarily to peek around the corner.
The bend is gradual. After moving up a few feet, Istas can still not see the source of the noise, but she can tell there's light further around the bend. Creeping up a bit further she can make out the silhouette of a gnome-like figure. A bit closer and she can tell his would be a large powerfully built gnome. A bit closer and she can see him in the dim light rather than than in silhouette.
His skin is a pale grey. His hair a bleached out yellow, like matte-finish pourly alloyed white gold. Bits of vegetable and bodily debris litter him. He's wearing ragged dirty garments under a studded leather coat.
His skin is a pale grey. His hair a bleached out yellow, like matte-finish pourly alloyed white gold. Bits of vegetable and bodily debris litter him. He's wearing ragged dirty garments under a studded leather coat.
Istas frowns angrily at the sight of the bits and pieces clinging to the gnome's clothes...which she takes as clear evidence he used and possibly even dug the tunnel through the burial mound. She clenches the haft of her spear more tightly, summoning up the courage and rage to punish him.
"Lady of Graves fill my mind and guide my hand..." she whispers, cupping the holy symbol on its silver chain, "And Bless me with life so I may face those who deal in death."
Istas then places the holy symbol inside her tunic and beneath her armor to hide its light, relying instead on the illumination in the room ahead. She crawls forward the rest of the way, as silently as she can to enter the room.
Ranged attack with thrown spear... (1d20+3 = 21 to hit)
Damage... (1d6+2 = 8 hp)
The tunnel does not open into a room. The little man, he's not quite a gnome, his proportions are wrong, is sleeping slumped against the wall of the tunnel in a sitting posture. He continues snoring.
This is an ideal opportunity for a surprise attack, but as a spearthrust will be more or less parallel to the wall you are unlikely to pin him, although you are very likely to hit him. This combat is likely to resemble a fight with a badger you've followed into its hole. You may be able to fend him off with the spear, but if he gets past the point it may get ugly.
Can I have a spot (visual perception) check please? Are you going to crawl up another foot or two and strike?
edit: you may keep the attack roll if you do.
The tunnel does not open into a room. The little man, he's not quite a gnome, his proportions are wrong, is sleeping slumped against the wall of the tunnel in a sitting posture. He continues snoring.
Can I have a spot (visual perception) check please? Are you going to crawl up another foot or two and strike?
Perception check... (1d20+3=6)
This is an ideal opportunity for a surprise attack, but as a spearthrust will be more or less parallel to the wall you are unlikely to pin him, although you are very likely to hit him. This combat is likely to resemble a fight with a badger you've followed into its hole. You may be able to fend him off with the spear, but if he gets past the point it may get ugly.
As Istas lunges forward her lower left leg comes down on something sharp and pointed. There a momentary catch as the point hits a stud, then the blade slides along her leg opening a thin gash.
Her spear pierces the odd "gnome". He awakens with a pained cry, whips his head about confusedly before struggling to back off the spearpoint and reaching for something behind him.
Initiative check... (1d20+2=15)
Fortitude save... (1d20+6=16)
As Istas lunges forward her lower left leg comes down on something sharp and pointed. There a momentary catch as the point hits a stud, then the blade slides along her leg opening a thin gash.
Istas curses as she feels the pain in her leg. 'A trap! I should have known he was a guard! And where there are guards, there are usually traps!' Desperate to even the odds, she lunges with her spear.
Her spear pierces the odd "gnome". He awakens with a pained cry, whips his head about confusedly before struggling to back off the spearpoint and reaching for something behind him.
Pressing the advantage, Istas jabs with the spear again. "Stop, defiler!" she commands him.
Her opponent slideslips Istas' spear. He begins a rythmic chant.
Her opponent slideslips Istas' spear. He begins a rythmic chant.
Istas gives a grunt of frustration, mounting even further as she has struggle forward in the tight tunnel to even reach the creature. She summons up her Shoanti heritage and utters a barbaric curse, ramming the spear home with both hands this time.
She summons up her Shoanti heritage and utters a barbaric curse, ramming the spear home with both hands this time.
Istas' thrust slashes the little man's bicep, opening a minor wound, but he stumbles in his incantation. "Curse, you surface dweller. You are an abomination. " Continuing to curse you he begins backing down the tunnel.
Istas' thrust slashes the little man's bicep, opening a minor wound, but he stumbles in his incantation. "Curse, you surface dweller. You are an abomination. " Continuing to curse you he begins backing down the tunnel.
"The only abomination down here is you," Istas replies, "How dare you disturb the rest of those who've earned their passage into the next life! Soon, I'll be sending you to Pharasma's Boneyard as well, defiler! And when you get there, these tortured souls and the Lady of Graves will truly punish your transgression!"
With a righteous fury, Istas slithers through the tunnel after him, dragging her spear along with her. Upon closing the distance, she draws back for another strike.
The "gnome" manages to open a little distance and his curses change to incantation. Istas is plunged into darkness. She can hear him moving, but which way, and with what intent?
The "gnome" manages to open a little distance and his curses change to incantation. Istas is plunged into darkness. She can hear him moving, but which way, and with what intent?
Istas' heart skips a beat as the darkness descends over her. It seems even more smothering than the press of the damp earth around her.
'Calm...' she reminds herself, 'As long as you stay faithful to the Lady of Graves, there is nothing to fear in the dark...or the tombs of the dead.'
"Don't let this one escape us, my Lady," she whispers to her goddess, "Show me where his heart still beats so I might find him and send him to your Boneyard for judgement."
With that small prayer, a sense of real calm finally does settle over the Shoanti priestess. And among the gloom, a small flicker of ghostly blue light appears. Its rhythmic beating and frantic movement away from her position tell her it's exactly what she seeks. But rather than call out to the twisted gnome-like creature, she silently crawls after him, hoping to catch him once more by surprise.
As Istas creeps forward, following the dim aura and scuffling noises of her quarry. Her quarry doesn't go far, 10 or 15 feet. Istas hears a yelp of pain, then some dim muttering and curses. The aura stops moving.
Her quarry doesn't go far, 10 or 15 feet. Istas hears a yelp of pain, then some dim muttering and curses. The aura stops moving.
Istas closes on him as quietly and quickly as she can.
Once she comes upon him, the priestess snarls with determined Shoanti defiance. "Death will find you, defiler! No matter where you flee!" she tells him. Then she jabs once more with her grandfather's spear at the bluish outline of his heart...trusting Pharasma to guide her strike.
Attack... (1d20+3 = 22 to hit)
Damage... (1d6+2 = 3 hp)
Istas jabs toward the aura, but its outline is too imprecise and wavering. Her spearhead catches briefly then slices through, a glancing hit. The "gnome" cries out; his aura dims, shot through with black, but not quite extinguished. He flees, making good time.
Istas crawls a few feet forward and stops momentarily, dazzled by sunlight. Crawling the last few feet of the tunnel she emerges from the mound in time to see the little man running east, some 40 feet away.
Istas crawls a few feet forward and stops momentarily, dazzled by sunlight. Crawling the last few feet of the tunnel she emerges from the mound in time to see the little man running east, some 40 feet away.
'At least he's been chased from the graves he desecrated,' Istas thinks, 'But he still must pay for what he's done.'
The priestess gauges the distance between her and the little fleeing man. She considers throwing her grandfather's spear, but never was very good with faraway targets.
'Keep after him!' she urges herself as she quickly gives chase. Her robe billows around her like a dark raven streaking across the graveyard. As her legs hit full stride, she smoothly starts closing the gap on him. 'You are Shoanti...born to the Cinderlands...fleet of foot. This is nothing...compared to a Burn Run. You know every...part of this graveyard. He's in...your territory...now. Finish him for the Lady of Graves!'
Istas' long legs do indeed eat up the distance between her and her quarry. The little man looks back frequently. His expression ever more agitated. As Istas gains he looks back more and more frequently. He stumbles and regains his feet, but his momentum has been broken. Istas closes to easy striking range.
Istas' long legs do indeed eat up the distance between her and her quarry. The little man looks back frequently. His expression ever more agitated. As Istas gains he looks back more and more frequently. He stumbles and regains his feet, but his momentum has been broken. Istas closes to easy striking range.
Istas charges with an animalistic growl, spear held before her.
The spear pierces leather, skin, and sinew as it passes through the little man's chest. He reaches up to grasp the shaft with one hand, brandishing a dagger in the other. Then the coughing begins. Blood spurts from his mouth and runs down his chin and chest as he falls heavily to the ground, dragging your spear with him.
The spear pierces leather, skin, and sinew as it passes through the little man's chest. He reaches up to grasp the shaft with one hand, brandishing a dagger in the other. Then the coughing begins. Blood spurts from his mouth and runs down his chin and chest as he falls heavily to the ground, dragging your spear with him.
Istas releases the haft of the spear and lets it fall as the little man tumbles to the ground. Keeping her distance, she kneels down just out of reach to watch his final moments. This would be the time when his soul passed to Pharasma's Boneyard for judgement. And Istas has complete faith that she's done the right thing in sending him there. Once the Lady of Graves weighs his soul and surmises the extent of his transgressions against the dead, he will surely be interred forever in the goddess' graveyard.
"There is no escape," Istas tells him, meeting his dimming eyes, "Death finds us all at the appropriate time. I am but the hand of Pharasma, come to claim your soul for what you've done. Go to her now. And quickly, lest her wrath grow even greater."
She reaches over with one hand to touch his head. A flash of insight fills her mind about his life and the type of creature he might be.
After the little man finally passes away, Istas resolutely frees her grandfather's spear from the body and cleans it on the nearby grass. 'Let the spirits of the dead taste his blood upon the earth,' she thinks, 'So they might rest easier in the knowledge he will disturb them no more.'
She then searches the body for any other identifiable items. She also marks the location of his body in the graveyard and goes in search of the workers she saw earlier in the day. Asking them to provide her some sack cloth, she takes it back to wrap the body for transport to Stannus. Before she leaves Potter's Ward, however, she crawls once more into the original tunnel she used to enter the burial mound so she can retrieve her shield. And she also asks the same workers to fill in the tunnels entering and exiting the place.
"Use fresh dirt," she instructs them, "Don't seek to collapse the walls of the existing tunnel. It will only disturb the dead that much more."
With that, she returns to the temple to report her findings.
The touch of his forehead summons a single word to Istas' mind, DERRO. This in turn triggers a memory, she read somewhere about the derro, a hostile offshoot of the dwarven race, given to meglomania.
***
The workers respectfully acknowledge Istas' orders, bring the sack, and begin filling the tunnels. "Would you like one or two of us to give you a hand with the body, miss? Where should we take it?"
***
At the door of the temple, one of the acolytes says, "Lady Istas" and makes a motion as if brushing something from her hair. To your inquiry she replies Stannus is in the Vaults below the temple. If you wish she will fetch him while you wait in the sun.
The touch of his forehead summons a single word to Istas' mind, DERRO. This in turn triggers a memory, she read somewhere about the derro, a hostile offshoot of the dwarven race, given to meglomania.
'Derro,' Istas thinks, 'Stunted dwarves it seems...physically, mentally, and spiritually, as well. Perhaps Stannus will find this explanation useful, even if it's not as desirous as finding more living dead for him to hunt.'
The workers respectfully acknowledge Istas' orders, bring the sack, and begin filling the tunnels. "Would you like one or two of us to give you a hand with the body, miss? Where should we take it?"
"To Dawn Hall," Istas answers, "I must bring this interloper to the attention of the Pharasmen. Thank you for your help. It will certainly make the trip home easier."
At the door of the temple, one of the acolytes says, "Lady Istas" and makes a motion as if brushing something from her hair.
It takes a moment, but eventually Istas realizes what the acolyte is trying to convey. She takes a moment to make herself more presentable, assuming she must be covered in the dirt and mud of crawling through a burial mound. "Thank you," she smiles.
To your inquiry she replies Stannus is in the Vaults below the temple. If you wish she will fetch him while you wait in the sun.
"Yes, please. Tell him I have his answer. Lily was right," she replies.
'That kind of cryptic answer ought to get him here faster if I allow him to still think it involved undead,' she smiles inwardly.
Looking towards the workmen, she thanks them again and dismisses them. "You were most kind to lend your assistance today," she bows, "I shall speak kindly of you to our leadership here."
After they leave and Istas is alone, she takes a moment to pray to her goddess, thanking her for her guidance and support. A cool calm suffuses her flesh, reknitting the wounds she suffered, but unable to combat the poison just yet.
"Yes, please. Tell him I have his answer. Lily was right," she replies.
The young initiate hurries through the door in search of Stannus. Istas is just beginning to really unwind when she returns accompanied by the grizzled man.
"Istas," he says curtly. "Lily was right? What sort of report is that? What did you find?"
"Istas," he says curtly. "Lily was right? What sort of report is that? What did you find?"
"A derro," she replies, gesturing towards the corpse, "A twisted dwarf-like creature, quite mad in its own right. I found it within a series of tunnels in one of the burial mounds. It must have been there for quite sometime, for it had the resources to design a trap to keep out anyone who followed. I took a scratch from it, but I should be okay."
She unlaces the bindings to the sack cloth so Stannus can examine the body. "No other evidence of living dead or more of its kind," she tells him, "Though I'm worried as to how it found its way into Potter's Ward in the first place. Maybe there are more tunnels in other locations? The rest of the Pharasmen should keep a close eye there, just in case."
"Istas," he says curtly. "Lily was right? What sort of report is that? What did you find?""A derro," she replies, gesturing towards the corpse, "A twisted dwarf-like creature, quite mad in its own right. I found it within a series of tunnels in one of the burial mounds. It must have been there for quite sometime, for it had the resources to design a trap to keep out anyone who followed. I took a scratch from it, but I should be okay."
She unlaces the bindings to the sack cloth so Stannus can examine the body. "No other evidence of living dead or more of its kind," she tells him, "Though I'm worried as to how it found its way into Potter's Ward in the first place. Maybe there are more tunnels in other locations? The rest of the Pharasmen should keep a close eye there, just in case."
"Derro." Stannus spits the word. "Twisted little bast---ds. Fond of poison and torture. And where there's one, there's more. Never less than half a dozen together."
He pinches his eyes closed at the bridge of his nose, head bowed, obviously thinking. His head rises suddenly. "A scratch, you say." He stares at you. " You look well enough. Have it checked when we're done. Like I said, they're fond of poison."
"What about the tunnels? How extensive are they? Why didn't we see them? Or their tailings?"
He pinches his eyes closed at the bridge of his nose, head bowed, obviously thinking. His head rises suddenly. "A scratch, you say." He stares at you. " You look well enough. Have it checked when we're done. Like I said, they're fond of poison."
"I'll ask Arbus to examine it for me," Istas nods, glancing once again at the injury, "It does seem to ache a bit more than a typical scratch should. And although I feel a little weakened at the moment, I thought that might have more to do with my exertion in chasing down the derro than the poison itself."
"What about the tunnels? How extensive are they? Why didn't we see them? Or their tailings?"
"The tunnels were covered with tall grass...and quite small," she explains, "I had to crawl rather awkwardly through them just to find the derro. I'd say this particular burial mound didn't seem too disturbed...I recall an entrance, a back exit, and maybe another tunnel leading off elsewhere. It was hard to tell in the darkness. The creature conjured enough of it to drown even the light provided by Pharasma."
"What led me there was a trail of feathers and blood," she continues, "I suspect this derro emerged from the tunnels to catch and eat a seagull roosting among the gravestones. I could have easily missed the entrance entirely if not for that."