"Do we want to fortify this shop to rest here? Feena, I know you said you needed to rest."
Coral looks at the potions. "These could be useful."
If there are no objections, she will take one Spider Climb and one Invisibility (there are four of each).
"No one's arguing anymore. We needed to clear the air, and now it is. And yeah, Lola, I can prepare a consecration tomorrow. Probably good to keep a couple of them on hand going forward, to be honest, if we have more of these Whispering Way nutjobs to fight."
Marya massages her temple with the flat of her sword. "Correct me if I'm forgetting something, but do we know exactly how long we were gone from when the town got absolutely obliterated? If we assume that time passed the same for us in The Boneyard, that's what, a week-ish? Seems a bit fast for a bunch of Whispering Way chucklef$*!s to already be here camped out." She scowls even deeper than usual. "They also were really...euphoric? I'd guess is the word. Could be they know something we don't about what caused all this. Or they are just more touched in the head than usual for that kind."
|
Vlad shrugs as Coral and Marya continue their discussion.
At least it's not in the midst of battle.
When Coral mentions resting, he can't help but agree. "Those two battles have taken a lot out of us. This may be a better place to rest than the schoolhouse, which is likely more open. Should we rest first?"
The sudden near argument after beating the cultists worried Feena but fortunately they quickly came to an understanding. She looked at the cultist's bodies and said, "I think we should go to the school house, yes, as for these..." She had quite immolating when they went down, "Why don't we just purify them with fire?" Feena gestured around her and said, "I could simply light the bodies on fire and then let them burn. This place will turn into a pyre for them, I doubt they'll arise from that."
"No one's arguing anymore. We needed to clear the air, and now it is."
At this, Coral shrugs and looks at the ground, looking halfway convinced.
"...a bunch of Whispering Way chucklef&@$s..."
And Coral goes back to looking like she needs to get out of here. It doesn't take a great Sense Motive check to tell that Marya making light of their adversaries really rubs Coral the wrong way. But the halfling keeps quiet. She grits her teeth, forces a half-smile, and stays silent through the end of Marya's remarks.
Coral thinks back to the cleric's earlier words.
"And if all that makes you think I’m a b*$#@, so be it. I am a b$&%*, and that’s why I’ve survived as long as I have."
So coarseness and flippancy is her coping mechanism... I should try to be more patient with her, I guess.
She looks around for how she can be of use.
"Why don't we just purify them with fire?" Feena gestured around her and said, "I could simply light the bodies on fire and then let them burn. This place will turn into a pyre for them, I doubt they'll arise from that."
Did she not hear me?
"Uh, Feena, would destroying the bodies prevent their souls from coming back? Like as spectres or whatever?Anyway, I will defer to those of you who are experts on this topic.
For now, do you want to rest here? I can maybe scavenge some boards to make barricades."
Marya notes Coral's displeasure. She appreciates that Coral is coming from a good place with her disagreements, but as far as Marya is concerned, so is she. Such situations don't bother her much anymore. Everyone has their own pain and their own coping strategies they built from it. Better to not expect people to change, especially not the way you want them to.
Come to think of it, that's what drew Marya to Iomedae more than Hilde. All that talk of your "heart." Remaining true to it, remembering it even in the darkest moments. Who is she to tell someone what their heart is if it isn't hurting anyone? How can she do anything but remain true to that passion in her own chest? That drop in her stomach as she thinks of the raw scale of The Tyrant and his legions and the terror and violence they inflicted, that cold rage as she thinks of how much she wants to obliterate each and every last one of them before they hurt anyone else....There are few parts of herself that she likes, and those feelings, oh those feelings she likes quite a great deal. They let her know that she has not yet turned to stone. And she is not giving them up.
So, as long as both of them are right with the Big Lady and have good intentions, she's fine with them both having their own ways, and after that last conversation she is now satisfied on both those counts. Her problem with Vlad has never been his heterodoxy, but rather her doubts about his character.
"Yeah, you never know with undead. There's always some new variety. The only way to be absolutely sure is with some magic. Considering what this town has been through, it could probably do with a consecration or ten anyways. Boarding the place up and taking a rest might be the best call at this point."
Damian looks back and forth between Coral and Marya, but since no new arguments erupt he is content to let it lie as well. "Very well, you know best. I'll take a look around and see if we can make this place more secure."
He heals Vlad a little more before they rest.
"Uh, Feena, would destroying the bodies prevent their souls from coming back? Like as spectres or whatever?
Anyway, I will defer to those of you who are experts on this topic.
For now, do you want to rest here? I can maybe scavenge some boards to make barricades."
Lola leans against a pillar, filing her nails as she waits for everyone to finish, and then chimes in, "incorporeal undead, the ethereal ones, they can arise even when you burn the bodies. In fact, certain undead arise when the bodies are burned, should it not be consecrated." She thinks "and even some corporeal ones can show up if the K'áak'o' is not hot enough - sometimes taking on the characteristics of K'áak'o' as well."
She holds a finger up "pero, burning them does prevent them from getting raised using necromancy." She gestures broadly at everything, "it depends if we think this noxious gas is necromantic or alchemical. We do not know what any corpse will do in this ruined place."
She goes back to filing her nails, "as I said, in the absence of magical consecration, we can give them last rites, offer forgiveness, and try to give their spirits peace. We should hope their afterlives are kinder than their mean, sorry lives."
Coral begins boarding up the jewelry shop, with a quiet "Thanks" to Lola.
The the Way’s central goal, is to seek to transform themselves into a state of undeath, particularly through transformation into a lich. The details of the complex process are broken up and scattered among many followers, making it necessary for agents to seek out one another and exchange knowledge. To protect their secrets, adherents of the Way keep what they learn in their memory and pass along that knowledge exclusively through private, whispered conversations to one another. Due to the lack of an official hierarchy, most who join the Way first discover the group through established members or from cryptic mentions within esoteric texts. Unlike other secret cabals, membership comes with no fanfare or secret entrance rituals, but rather a slow process as the Way’s teachings steadily entwine into the person’s very body and soul. Prolonged exposure to this dark lore is what truly defines the group’s membership, and those who attempt to abandon the path usually crumble into ash and dust. From well-intended nurses to sociopathic assassins, adherents of the Whispering Way are as varied as they are obscure. Though most remain hidden in society, several have risen to notoriety. The most prominent member of the organization is none other than Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant.
Damian sets about and helps Coral find a way help better defend themselves in this location by potentially rearranging some furniture over the door and moving the broken glass around the entrance to act as a form of caltrops.
Lola pats Coral on the shoulder with a smile, "de nada," she whispers back.
Feena hesitated when Coral brought up her point about not being sure burning the bodies would work. She couldn't think of anything else they could do to prevent them rising. "I don't know much about undead, you would know better than me. The only reason I think burning them might prevent their rising is because of the source of my fire."
Feena looked at her friends and said, "My fire doesn't come from an elemental like most fire sorcerers. My bloodline is that of a phoenix, it's how I can heal with my flames. Phoenix fire should be a sort of purifying force so I thought maybe it would purify the remains so they wouldn't rise." Feena seemed hesitant and then asked, "Do you truly not think that would work?"
"I don't know, Feena. Maybe?
I trust Lola on this and will do my part as she says. I can offer forgiveness and pray for them to be judged mercifully. They have already paid a steep price for their service to the Whispering Way.
I can't imagine anyone choosing to serve the Whispering Way. What sort of despair could drive someone to that? Somebody failed these poor lost souls long ago. Or the gods just gave them dark and twisted souls in the first place. I don't pretend to understand. I did what I had to do in striking them down. However they got to where they are, they have to be stopped.
I suppose it can't hurt to do what Lola said and what you said. Last rites, prayers of forgiveness, and then cleansing Phoenix flames."
Feena considered what Coral said and then nodded, "Overkill can't be a bad idea when trying to prevent undead rising."
"A phoenix? That is extraordinary," remarks Damian, slightly mispronouncing 'phoenix'. It sounds more like "veenix". He has his doubts about the efficacity of the flame treatment on the bodies. After all, do phoenixes not rise from their own ashes? But he doesn't think that it would harm, and Feena seems troubled enough by doubt and hesitation, so he keeps his peace.
"I will join you in prayer, Coral. I'm not a priest, but I remember some of the rites well enough."
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Lola nods, "entonces, if we're planning on resting - we have to decide something. We need to decide if we're sleeping in the same room as the cultists, and disposing with conscration their bodies tomorrow." She points outside, "or, if we want to bury or burn them now, we have to do so outside. Note that if they aren't completely incinerated, even to the point where the bones are ash, another cultist with power will be able to raise them. Or they could spontaneously animate." She opens her hands as if weighing options. "though if they animate, maybe it would be best for them to do so when we are not in the same room. There are drawbacks to either option..." She takes off her jacket and rolls up her sleeves, her well-muscled frame apparent for the first time. "I will defer to the group, but if we sleep in the same room, we should at least move them to the other side of the counter or something, yes?"
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Marya is formulating a response when she is suddenly distracted by Lola's muscles. With how she swings that spear around, it only makes sense, but...whew. Marya scowls to herself as she thinks about how she really wishes there was a brothel still in town, and then scowls even deeper as she reprimands herself for thinking about such things at this time. "We should have watches anyways, yeah? I say keep in the same room where whoever is up on a given shift can keep an eye on them. Maybe put something big and heavy on top of them so it'll take them a while to get up, should they be so inclined. Burning them now will make a lot of smoke and might draw attention from more cultists."
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Damian pulls out some rope from his pack and moves to help Lola carry the cultists' bodies to wherever they are stashing them. "We can bind, oof... them, yes?"
Not nearly as strong as Lola, he is breathing heavily and wiping sweat away from his brow by the time they are done. "I think I read somewhere that bodies are heavier once they are dead, although I don't see how that makes any sense." He straightens his back with a grimace of pain. "I can almost believe it now."
"I will join you in prayer, Coral. I'm not a priest, but I remember some of the rites well enough."
Coral doesn't really know the right prayers for this - Iomedae is not much for asking why people fall to evil - so she listens to Damian and tries to add a few words of her own.
"Somebody failed you. You fell into despair and there was nobody to help you or slow your fall or show you a better way.
Maybe you did not get turned into wights or liches. But something inside you died and you kept on living.
I am sorry for that."
She does not apologize for striking them down.
Coral can take any watch.
With words said, a watch set and protective measures placed against any potential unexpected rising of the dead, the party settles in for the night. Several times through the night strange sounds can be heard outside in the distance, but nothing ever close enough to warrant waking the others.
Within a few hours the smell of the multiple dead bodies in the closed area becomes noticeable. When morning arrives you are relieved to see that the corpses of the fallen cultists have not animated and still lay dead, but the smell inside is sickening and nearly unbearable.
"Let's burn these bodies and move on to the Schoolhouse."
Marya stretches before starting the arduous process of putting her armor back on.
"Let's do this. I have a couple of consecrations for today so I'll have a backup for later."
Damian helps with tearing planks off for the fire and handling the dead bodies as they prepare the pyre. "I hope that what we are doing will be enough. Marya, this consecration spell, is it permanent?"
Marya shakes her head. "It is not. It'll last...10 hours-ish. Making magic like that permanent is beyond my abilities at the moment. It's the best we've got, though."
Damian nods with a preoccupied expression, then smiles at Marya. "It is. And we are blessed to have you here to work this magic. Hopefully by the time the spell fades we will have dealt with whatever is causing this."
He speaks more confidently than he feels, but he senses that all their spirits are low; now is not the time to voice his doubts and fears, but to try and bolster the others' morale. And maybe this way he will find again his usual, optimistic self.
Lola quietly sings a mournful dirge in an unfamiliar tongue when the bodies are consecreated, burned, and the bones are buried in the backyard of the shop.
All she says is, "I am sorry for what you lost, I hope you find peace in the next life."
She helps bury them, and then readies herself to approach the schoolhouse.
When they awoke the next morning the stench of the bodies was bad. They really should have dealt with them last night or found someplace else to sleep. Fortunately they had not risen from the dead to attack them in their sleep so at least there was an upside. Once a funeral pyre was ready Feena stepped next to it and immolated for a moment to light the flames.
Once the fire had burned down and the bodies were buried she made a gesture of obedience to Sarenrae, the mother of phoenixes as the ground was consecrated. "I guess we can't do anything more for them huh?" She looked around them at the town and said, "We should get away from here before anyone comes looking for us."
After the party has taken great care to see to their fallen adversaries, they make their way to the schoolhouse.
A one-room schoolhouse stands on the northeastern edge of Roslar's Coffer and, unlike many of the other buildings in town, remains standing and in reasonable condition. As you approach, they can see a glow from within, emanating from a dozen frolicking child-like figures.
Four rows of four small desks each fill most of this chamber, with a single large, wooden desk near the only door. Broken writing tablets and dozens of pieces of chalk litter the dirty floor. Several grimy windows around the room look out onto the ruined town.
The ghostly children caper about the room. "Teachers are here! Come play with us, teachers, and our new fairy friends!" they laugh as they jump around and climb up on the desks, giggling and laughing.
Lola takes off her mask and lifts up her hat, showing her smiling face, "¡Qué divertido! Surely, I will play with you. What is the game of the day?" She puts her spear away, and peers into the room, looking for the 'fairy friends'.
"Hola, my name is Lola, and these are my friends. We also love playing games." She gestures at herself with open hands, and then at the others, bowing slightly.
Fairies...
Coral grimaces, and runs her tongue over her teeth to make sure they are all there.
But after a moment she smiles, puts away her sword, and walks into the classroom along with Lola.
"And my name is Coral. Tell me what you like about school," she says to one of the spirits.
With the appearance of the children in the schoolhouse Feena felt a great wave of sadness. Yes, they were part of the cemetery, the spirit of the town of sorts, but it was still saddening to see the spectral kids. When they were asked to play with the children and their fairy friends Feena couldn't help but feel concerned.
Feena remembered the toothfairies they'd had to deal with and didn't know that she was comfortable with this. The fact that the kids were asking though made her nod and ask, "Alright, what is the game today?"
The schoolhouse holds many memories for Damian, so his smile is sad and melancholy as he greets the children. With their diaphanous forms it is difficult for him to understand what they are saying, so he mostly lets his companions lead the discourse as he goes to one knee and starts making shadow figures on the walls for their entertainment.
"HEL-LO MISS-SES LO-LA. HEL-LO MISS-SES COR-AL." the children all say slowly, in unison.
The children laugh at Vlad's silly comment. "Don't you see them?"
"MY FRIENDS!" one answers Coral. "I love playing with my friends!" one says as she continues to run around the room.
TAG!" one answers Coral, joining in chasing another girl over, under and around desks in the room.
For the most part, the children ignore you and it is going to take some getting their attention before you can interact with them.
"Ah, yes, well we could play all day, but then we wouldn't be in school, would we? We come to school to learn. To learn about the great history of Lastwall and Rosler's Coffer, to learn skills like reading to be better citizens..."
The children utterly ignore Coral. That is hardly surprising, as they are all the same size as her - she doesn't have the stature to be a teacher.
Feena spoke once more to the children and said, "Hi there, I'm Feena." She looked at the frantic children and then said, "Hey I know what would be fun! Would you all like to see a magic trick?" Feena was sure kids loved magic so she went to the middle of the room and began to weave a spell. When she finished she cupped her hands and aimed them straight up. From between her hands a spray of brilliant colors shot up into the air.
She looked back down at the kids and asked, "So what do you think?"
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Lola watches as Feena catches their attention, and waits her turn to try to win the kids over.
Lola pulls out La Guitarra and after testing it a few times with careful thrums which reverberate throughout the school house.
She pulls up a nearby stool, "Qué bueno, children, gather round. I have a fun song for you." She sits on the stool, and crosses her legs, smiling at the children, "this is a song about elephants - on a spiderweb. I cannot imagine anything sillier! ¡Escucha me!"
Lola begins to sing an upbeat tune while playing her guitar, and tapping her feet.
Dos elefantes se balanceaban
Sobre la tela de una araña
Como veía que resistía
Tres elefantes se balanceaban
Sobre la tela de una araña
Cinco elefantes se balanceaban
Sobre la tela de una araña
Como veía que resistía
Fueron a llamar otro elefante
¡Eh-eh-eh!
¡Bien!
Como veía que resistía
Fueron a llamar otro elefante
Sobre la tela de una araña
Fueron a llamar otro elefante
Se balanceaba
Como veía que resistía
Fueron a llamar otro elefante
She looks around mischievously and continues with the rest of the song.
¡Bien!
¡Eh-eh-eh!
¡Bien!
¡Bien!
¡Bien!
¡Bien!
¡Se rompió!
¡Jajaja!
¡Se rompió! (Jajaja)
¡Se rompió la tela!
She grins at the end of her performance, hopeful that it's encouragingly fun.
Marya grins as she kneels dwon to talk to the children. She remembers back to how she would talk to Konstanze, how she had observed Konstanze interacting with other children and adults.
"I can tell that you children are pretty grown-up. Well, I've got something to tell you that only cool and strong grown-ups can get to hear. Am I right that you are up for it?"
Lola's song has the effect she wishes, the children all stop playing and sits down to listen. Many clap their hands and cheer, asking for another song.
Before that can happen however, Lola and Feena both feel intense pain as unseen blades sink into their backs! Blood flows from their wounds, which burn with a weakening poison.
Whatever attacked them remains unseen however, no enemies are in sight.
"Are these your fairy friends??" shouts Coral.
She takes a 5' step towards her friends, closes her eyes, and trusts in her other senses.
Coral has Blind-Fight, so invisible attackers gain no advantages against her with melee attacks (they do not gain the +2 and she does not lose her Dex bonus).
She will use the Scent ability granted by Blinded Blade Style to, as a move action, try to note the direction of one of the creatures, if it is within 10'. If it is adjacent, she pinpoints it (and if isn't adjacent, she still pretty much pinpoints it, because it has to be in the square 10' away).
If she can tell where one is, she will point and shout (as a free action) for her allies.
Lola staggers, "¡Mierda, deben ser las hadas cabron!" Lola streams invective towards the thing that attacked her, as she reflexively reaches for the wound, and then holds up a hand smeared in greyish blood. She stands up, "sorry, children, my words..." She winces in pain and steps away from where the thing attacked, gingerly, obviously worse for wear.
She grits her teeth and the language she uses... is even less pleasant, for those who might be able to understand her. Her eyes flash, and she says some uncharacteristically rude things. The words themselves seem to have been clumisly translated by Lola on the fly, as she intended much more ribald speech in her native tongue, but has the presence of mind not to be too offensive in the presence of children.
The stream of invective flows from Lola's mouth as the wound burns inside of her body. She grits her teeth, the same greyish blood obvious in her mouth now, as she looks around furiously for her enemies.