Glancing quickly about, Ketra doesn't see any creatures or threats, but she does catch a metallic gleam coming from a small bowl at the foot of the pedestal the Roslar statue is sitting on.
The bowl contains a large assortment of copper, silver, and even a few gold coins , a stiff roll of parchment bearing a prayer of succor to Arazni, and a thick glass jar whose wax seal is inscribed with magical runes of preservation. The parchment and contents of glass jar detect as magical.
As Wallace approaches the statue, it moves with a ripple of magic and the for a moment the statue of Ervin Roslar moves--the knight dips his lance in salute, and horse bows its heads in solemn greeting. A second later the statue is back in its original position, though none of you can quite tell when it moved. Anyone else approaching triggers the same phenomenon.
Sanduro waits to make sure that Garret's potion heals Ketra, then offers his to Wallace. "Clockwise works for me. Zsofia, why don't you go first and warn us if we're going to set off another explosion?"
The phantom heads for the hallway, but waits until it is clear that the rest of the group agrees to this direction.
"Works for me."
Zsofia drifts into the hallway, finding it clean but bare. Drifting a bit further forward, she peers around the corner and spies what appears to be the exit. A grand metallic double door stands in the east wall of this chamber, while hallways exit to the north and south. A statue of a proud knight with flowing hair and a large mustache stands in an alcove in the west wall, atop a short pillar bearing a metal plaque.
A pair of metallic, robed skeletons are leaning towards one another as though in hushed conversation. The one facing in Zsofia's direction spots the phantom and points her out to its companion.
"Petitioner," the other celedon says in a voice as smooth and sonorous as Thirds, though vaguely more feminine. "This is no place for you, be on your way. There are intruders in the tomb, it is not safe to be wandering about." It gestures towards the double doors.
Ketra downs the second potion with a grateful smile for Garret.
"Well, that one worked! Thanks!" She stows the empty vial and points out the small metal bowl at the base of the Roslar statue. "Strange that they would leave offerings for Roslar like that. But I guess this is good evidence that there aren't any more tomb robbers here."
When the statue "moves" she drops into a ready stance. But when it moves back to its original position she sheathes her machetes. "Hmm? That's a bit fancy, don't you think?" She steps up to the statue herself, bowing respectfully at the image's greeting.
Afterward she turns to find out what Zsofia learned.
Moving up to the bowl, Garret uses his Detect Magic to get a sense of the schools of magic involved.
"I am torn here, friends. These items could be of great use if we run into powerful foes, but I would feel like I am grave robbing if we take what looks like an offering to the statue. What do you think?" asks Garret.
The parchment appears to be a scroll radiating minor Conjuration, while the glass jar radiates minor Divination magic, appearing to be arcane while the scroll's magic is divine.
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Petitioner?
"Petitioner? Nah, I'm not a petitioner. I mean, I'm dead, I know that, but I ... " Zsofia stops, confused. "I'm dead, but I'm still here. Why am I still here? Do you know where I'm supposed to go? And why I'm stuck to -- " she waves back in the general direction of the room where Sanduro and the others are waiting "-- that stupid kid back there? Oh, don't look like that, he's not one of your intruders. He and his stupid friends were knocked out and dumped in some of your stone coffins and are just looking for the exit so they can get back to Roslar's Coffer."
The phantom rolls her eyes. "Believe me, they haven't taken anything. They even found a pile of looted goodies and brought them back to your creepy buddy Third. Anyway, unless you know anything useful to me personally - like who killed me and where to find them, so I can take my gruesome revenge, and what I supposed to do next - then how about you point me to the way out and back to town and I'll just go get the kid and his pals and we'll get out of your hair."
Zsofia snickers. "Out of your hair, heh. Sorry about that." The phantom reaches back to her own ponytail, realizes it's as intangible as the rest of her, and scowls. She points to the double doors. "Is that the way out?"
Ketra stretches out her legs as she waits for Zsofia to return. "Garret, I don't think we're going to need some tattered old scrolls. It can't be that much farther to the surface anyway, right?" She looks up "Its weird though. This place seems way too big already. More of a museum than a tomb."
”Right,” nods Garret, leaving the items where they lay and waiting for the scout to report back.
There's a moment of silence before either celedon responds. "There are others with you? And you have met the Third? Can you tell us what's happening dow--"
"Petitions are often confused, and say many strange things," the other celedon cuts in smoothl. "This one at least realizes she has passed on, which is often the most difficult step." Turning back to Zsofia, it indicates the double doors with a sweep of its hand. "I'm afraid I have no answers for you pertaining to your death, but yes, this is the exit to the tomb. Go with our blessing, petitioner."
Silvia paces relentlessly across the room, growing impatient. Her focus remains firmly on her own marching feet, though she occasionally glances up at the hallways or the door to the south.
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Zsofia's eyes narrow at the suggestion that she might be confused, but she plasters a big, goofy grin on her face and gives the celadons two thumbs up.
"Yeah, confused. That's me. But just in case I'm not, I'll go get the kid and his friends, and bring 'em back here so we can finally get out of this place."
Without waiting for a response, she turns and glides angrily back to the group.
When she gets back to the room, Zsofia tells the others about her conversation with the celadons. "Confused, it said! Can you believe those boneheads? Me! Like I would waste my energy imagining being stuck forever with you," she says, jabbing a spectral finger at Sanduro.
"Anyway, I found the exit, so let's make like a tree and get the Hells out of here. This place gives me the creeps, and I'm already dead, so that's saying something,"
Sanduro looks relieved. "Good job, Zsofia. Somebody has these celadon all wound up and the sooner we get out of here, the less of a chance they get us mixed up with them."
"They're letting us go?" Ketra lets out a breath "Good, I was worried we'd be jumping through hoops like we did for the other one." She sheathes her machetes and starts jogging the way that Zsofia came from. "Come on, let's go! We're probably too late to help with that strange mage, but..."
She doesn't finish the thought. Knowledge that they're finally at the exit suddenly lights a fire within her again. Her sisters and dad were out there. Maybe they needed help. She avoids thinking about what else the mage might have done with everyone else in the town.
Silvia is hot on Ketra's heels, plenty eager herself to get the hell out of the tomb. "This is definitely the weirdest day of my life, but I know the Captain's lived through worse. Once Black got her back on her feet she probably kicked that creep's ass seven ways from Sunday."
What if she didn't? What if she's another name on your list?
Silvia checks her pistol again, and holds it ready.
As the group rounds the corner into the foyer, the two celedons by the door look at each other, visibly startled despite the inexpressiveness of their skeletal faces.
"The petitioner appears not to have been so confused, First," Second observes smugly. First ignores them and scowls at you all. "Vandals! Robbers! Third warned us of your intrusion! I demand that you release this petitioner and depart at once! You invade a sacred space--look!" First points at the metal plaque at the statue's base, which reads:
ERVIN ROSLAR: PALADIN. HERO. MARTYR.
"You must return all you have stolen at once!"
For all the angry bluster, First does not seem eager to fight. While their indignation and anger is very real, the celedon hasn't budged from their spot from the door.
Silvia eyes the machine, before giving a deep sigh. "We're not vandals, or robbers. We were taken here against our will, and have just been trying to leave. On our way out, we fought and drove off the people who were trying to loot the place, and returned what they stole to your friend, uh, Third."
"As for Zsofia, well, she doesn't look like the petitioning type. Not an Andoran, for one. I think."
We'd already be out of here if they'd just let us leave...
Garret:
”She speaks truly. We have exterminated the bugs inhabiting the bodies of the dead and driven the looters from the tomb, returning their gatherings to Third. The only items we have picked up are some healing potions not associated with the graves, which we have used to ease our wounds from our battles,” adds Garret.
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"We only wish to leave and return to Roslar's Coffer. There was an attack and we must help them!" Wallace insists. "Third can vouch for us, there were invading Mites too that we convinced to leave." Please be peace, please be peace!
He tries not to make it obvious, but he can't help but to raise his shield a little.
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A moment of silence stretches along, then First turns. "Go below and ascertain that Third is well, and that these...strangers...speak truly." Second inclines their head and hurries out through the hall opposite you in the foyer.
"I grant that you are likely not thieves, for I do not recognize anything you carry and I have tended to these chambers for long and longer. Turn out your pockets, and if no stolen treasures spill forth you may depart."
"Petitioner, come here. Please." First beckons the phantom close, their voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you under duress? They've not the look of necromancers about them, but the clever ones often don't. If you're being held against your will, tell me."
First arranges their expression into a determined grimace and steps firmly in front of the doors. "Then you may not pass."
Ketra side eyes Zsofia, wondering how she missed these conditions. To the remaining celedons, she says "Well, I guess there was one thing that probably should stay here. I thought maybe it was left down here by someone from the town." She empties her pockets, revealing only the dented pewter mug.
"Here you go! You can have it if you want to keep ALL the treasures in his place intact. Even though I can't say it looked much like a treasure." She sets the mug down next to the celedon, then steps back and hooks her thumbs through her belt.
Garret will shrug and turn out his pockets, proving the truth of his words.
Irritation flashes across Silvia's face, but she does as she is asked. "I don't have anything I didn't come in here with, besides this bump on my head."
Sanduro turns out his pockets and tries to keep from laughing. “You want us to release Zsofia? Did she tell you that I’m keeping her a prisoner?”
The phantom preens a bit, enjoying a moment as the center of attention. “Well, no, I’m not under duress. Like I told you, I’m stuck with the kid there, the one with the tattoos, but it’s not his fault. He’s just trying to help me figure out who killed me, and why; he isn’t very useful, but he tries hard. And I’ve never seen any of the others do anything necromancery, either, so you should just let them leave.”
She drops her voice. “But I do have a question: why do you keep calling me ‘petitioner’? I’m not asking for anything except a chance to get my hands around the neck of whoever... well, I’m not circulating any petitions and like the lady with the really loud crossbow says, I’ve never even been to Andoran!”
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Snatching up the pewter mug, First inspects it for damage but appears content with Ketra's explanation. "Not on my watch," it murmurs to the mug.
Not seeming to know what to make of Zsofia's patter, First cocks their head in a confused gesture. "I know not this 'Andoran' you speak of, but you are a petition all the same. You are deceased, your soul bound for its judgement--does that not make you a petitioner? One who is bound for the Lady of Fate's courts to learn which afterlife they have earned?" First throws their hands in the air. "If this young man is escorting you to your rest, then he does a difficult and necessary work. It is my wish that he--all of you!--do it elsewhere, however." With that, the celedon turns and stomps out of the doorway and down the same hall Second departed, though they pause at the corner to watch you leave.
Eager to leave this bizarre tomb behind you, Ketra and Wallace unlatch the double doors and push them open before stepping into the night beyond.
Roslar's Coffer is nowhere to be seen. Not destroyed--there are no ruins, no crater, it is simply...not there. The gently sloping hill atop which Roslar's tomb sits is the same, though a veritable forest of tombstones and gravemarkers dot the hill and surrounding fields, stretching as far as you can see in the bright moonlight. And the moon, gods the moon! It's far too large and too close, a leering skull-face carved into its surface as your stand there under its gaze and feel a chill crawl up your spine.
The skull-faced moon is easily recognizable as the symbol of Groetus, god of the End of All Things. It is said that the deity takes just such a form in the Boneyard, where it awaits the end times. Impossible as it seems, that moon...is the deity itself!
You recognize your surroundings from countless descriptions and depictions growing up. Though it beggars belief, this field of graves you now stand in is the Boneyard--the divine realm to which all dead souls must pass and await their judgement in Pharasma's courts.
Eager to be out of the tomb, Silvia hurries outside and takes a deep, centering breath before looking around.
Graveyard's bigger than I remember...where's the town?
Confused by what she sees, she turns several times before looking back at the others and then up at the moon. Her jaw falls open in disbelief.
"Did...did the world end? Are we all dead?"
Sanduro and Zsofia follow Silvia through the doors outside.
"This doesn't ... are you saying this is the Boneyard? We're in the actual Boneyard? But we aren't dead, are we? For one thing, if we were dead, I don't think Zsofia and I would still be tied together."
Sanduro checks his mental connection to Zsofia.
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Wallace looks at Silvia with blatant disapproval. "This is no time for jokes, we've finally made it out! Which way to town, I don't recognize any of this..." he grumbles, pacing around. He stops to scowl at the moon. Inheritor, please don't let this be true! "What makes you think we're dead? I'll admit, that," he says, pointing at the skull-moon, "is not what I'd like to see, but wouldn't we be ghosts too? And those Mites! They were quite alive!" Barring the ones that simply aren't now though... By all that is Holy, what's going on?!
The phantom looks disappointed. "So, what, you're all petitioners now? That's just ... I guess being a petitioner must not be anything special after all." Zsofia emphasizes the word "petitioner" as though it is new to her and she is being careful to use it correctly.
"The moon is a skull and we are standing in an infinite graveyard," Silvia retorts, her temper threatening to overflow. "I've never died before, so I don't know the rules, but this isn't the sort of place you visit on a day trip!"
As her voice rises in volume, it threatens to crack, and she turns away to look out at where the town should be.
Sanduro looks from Silvia to Ketra and back. “Not usually, no.”
I thought the psychopomps sent us back to the world of the living for some special purpose -- was that all there was to it? My purpose -- Ketra’s too -- was to be victims 11 and 12 of an unknown wizard’s murder spree?
I don’t like that thought at all. Maybe there’s another explanation.
“I don’t think you’re dead now, either. At least, I don’t think I am, and you seem to be at least as alive as me. As for where we are, if you’re right and we’re really in the Boneyard...” he glances up at the moon but quickly drops his eyes from the disturbing sight “... I think we’re in trouble.”
He turns to Zsofia and adds, “And you can stop pouting, you’re still special. In fact, you’re so special I think it’s time for you to get back into fighting form, just in case we run into more trouble.”
Zsofia grows more serious as she solidifies. Her ectoplasmic form shivers slightly as she peers around the endless field of grave markers and nods. “Sure thing, boyo.”
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Sanduro pinches his fingers watching the color leave and then return as the blood rushes back. Between that and the injuries his companions suffered you all show every sign of being alive.
A flicker of movement among the tombstones draws your attention, jarring in the otherwise still night. Flitting back and forth, a whippoorwill zigzags over your group with an excited trill before beelining it towards Ketra. Flying three tight circles around Ketra's head, Verun alights on her shoulder and nuzzles her cheek with his head and she feels a rush of sensations from the little bird.
Found you, found you! Could not get in! Very strange, not-dead but...still Home? Very strange. What is that? The bird takes flight just long enough to grip the buckles on your new breastplate, pecking at the armor just above your heart before looking up at you, head tilted questioningly. Heart...strange? Heart-not-heart, are you hurting? Verun turns and peers at Silvia, Wallace, Garret, and Sanduro one at a time peering intently at each person's chest. Hearts...all strange.
With new insight into the workings of the Planes, Garret assesses the scene before him.
Speaking reverently, Garret relates, "This field of graves we now stand in is the Boneyard--the divine realm to which all dead souls must pass and await their judgement in Pharasma's courts. Dead or not, we are in death's realm."
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Ketra shudders to a stop after almost skipping out of the tomb. She takes a slow look over the surrounding scenery and gets a chill up her spine. She looks up and yelps, losing her footing and falling backward. "Uh." She's at a loss for words as her allies start filling in the gaps.
"We're not dead though. I sure don't feel dead. Even if we're here in... uh, the Boneyard?" She looks over at Garret. "That bag and the magic transported us to the Boneyard? But... but what about Roslar's Coffer? If the tomb is here, is the tomb not there in the real world?" She squares her jaw. "We have to get back. Somehow. We don't belong here, right?"
As she says that, she notices Verun approaching with rather a more determined look than Ketra's ever seen before. She raises a hand to lightly cup the whippoorwill's head, the action reflexive in her dazed state. The sudden surge of thoughts from Verun almost sends her scrambling to her feet. "Whoa!"
"Uh, cheers Verun." The clarity of thought from the little bird is new. Very new. And really strange. Though Ketra reasons its about par for the course considering the day so far. "I don't feel my heart's strange. But if you think it is, well, you've never led me wrong before." She rolls the end of her braid between her fingers. "Um, how did you get here? Wherever here is?"
The whippoorwill looks back up at Ketra to answer, but keeps distractedly glancing down at her chest, or at one of the others, as though whatever it sees there was mildly alarming. Big light, big magic. Very big magic. The Passage brought Verun Home again! Hearts so strange...scary. Maybe hurt? Not know, not supposed to be here. Go for help! Verun gives Ketra's pauldron an affectionate peck, and then wings away, quickly disappearing into the darkness and the maze of tombstones.
As you stand there on the hillside, the heavy stillness settles about your shoulders like a cloak. In Roslar's Coffer there would have been the chirping of insects or birdsong, and the whisper of the wind. Here there is no sound except the creak of your armor and the crunch of your boots in the soil. A vague pathway winds down the hill through the tombstone into a bank of pale grey mist.
"That seemed ominous. Where's he going?"
Sanduro looks around for a bush or fruiting tree, anything growing berries on it.
"We ought to try to heal up before we do anything else, maybe eat something. My grandmother Túnde always says not to walk with the spirits on an empty stomach. I think that applies here, too."
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"Verun? Did I miss something?" Wallace asks. At the call for healing, he nods in agreement and pulls a stopper from a bottle and downs it. Ugh, doesn't seem to have aged well.
"Should we follow it? What was that bird anyways?" This is so ominous, damn it! Not sure what else to do, he keeps his sword in hand and loosens his shield arm. "If we're alive in the realm of the dead... I bet other things are too," he explains.
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"All the more reason we should get moving," Silvia says. "We're exposed, standing out in the open on a hill, and I don't have any interest in meeting locals on anything other than my own terms."
"Well, I see little other than the pathway which seems to lead to this tomb. Perhaps the other end of the path leads somewhere helpful through that mist?" suggests Garret, eyeing the surroundings leerily.
Ketra stays silent for a few moments, unsure "The Passage? Home? The passage to the afterlife, then?" She voices her thoughts out loud before turning to Wallace. "My um, friend, Verun. He's a whippoorwill. He's led me to safety sometimes before. Though I get the feeling this is completely different from those other times."
She nods to Garret, happy to put confusion aside and take action instead. "Right. Helpful or not, paths always connect at least two things." She leads the way, though if Sanduro manages to identify anything in their surroundings, she lets him take over.
Descending the hill you soon find yourselves surrounded by the mists, swirling and thick on either side of the path. The gravestones are everywhere you look, but Sanduro finds life even in the land of the dead. Pale stunted trees with bark like overlapping fingernails can occasionally be glimpsed through the mist, and the druid also finds several dark creeping vines at the base of a few tombstones. A handful of those vines boast ghostly grey fruit not entirely unlike raspberries; while they don't seem poisonous they are bland and not very tasty.
Your group wanders down the path for perhaps fifteen minutes, leaving the rolling hill and moving out into the mist-shrouded plain when the steady whum...whum of large wings reaches your ears. Rising out of the mists is a tall, gangly skeleton bearing an oversized scythe with a gleaming green blade. A curving birdlike beak extends from its face, and a golden jackal-mask covers its eyes. Hovering in the air the creature points at your group without saying a word.
Despite it's grim appearance, this creature is no undead. It is a vanth, one of the guardians of the afterlife known as psychopomps. Amongst their number, the vanth are the primary soldiers and guardians of the Boneyard and the paths of the dead.
”This is a Vanth, a type of Psychopomp guardian of the afterlife—not an undead,” says Garret, wondering what languages the creature might speak.
As the vanth stares down at the group a small piping voice can be heard, muffled by distance and the mists. "Oho! It seems Thoot has found him! They're very percepticatious you know!"
"Is it here to finish the job?" Silvia asks Garrett. Without turning away from the flying bird skeleton--Thoot?--, she tries to pinpoint the source of the new voice.