The Ashefall Lodge, captained by Oraiah Tolal, is unusual, as its a treehouse, stationed above the swamps of Tamran. The group was sent here by Steward of the Grand Lodge Ambrus Valsin. Since half the time, the port of Tamran is being blockaded by the Molthuni navy, it was long and arduous journey overland through the Nesmian Plains.
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Angela stands on a stool on one of the balconies and stares down at the swamps below, glad she doesn't have to try finding any solid land to sleep on in the mire below. She spends a long moment staring at the slowly bubbling surface before jumping down and heading to take a look at the potion supplies the lodge might have.
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A red-skinned tiefling with teeth just about contained by her mouth comes up from below, carying her dull black longspear with her. She wears gleaming breastplate and a pack, which she unsholders at the first opportunity and sets it down by a chair.
"Damn. I thought Chelliax was the worst place on Golarian. At least they have roads. Still, I suppose the uninviting surroundings afford us privacy." As she talks is becomes clear she has far more, and larger, teeth in her mouth than a humanoid should.
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"Damn. I thought Chelliax was the worst place on Golarian. At least they have roads. Still, I suppose the uninviting surroundings afford us privacy." As she talks is becomes clear she has far more, and larger, teeth in her mouth than a humanoid should.
"One of the most powerful nations militarily in the Inner Sea region? Victorious nation of the so-called Everwar? The nation that brought civilization to the wild parts of both distant Arcadia and the Mwangi Expanse? Home of the Hellknights? Seat of House Thrune? Favored nation of Asmodeus, himself? This is the grand nation that you refer to as the 'the worst place on Golarion'?" loudly questions an aged old man as he arrives on the scene. "Listen, then, you should to I, Golthwur Strath, Headmaster of History and Counselor of Chronologies! For not only is that noble nation the humble home of this acclaimed arcanist, but my unparalleled understanding and enlightened expertise places me on par with many the honored historian holding notable knowledge of the tremendous truths and mystical mysteries of the all antiquity up to the present period!"
"As I do not believe we have antecedently been acquainted I shall forgive your failing of having uttered such a fallacious fabrication about celebrated Cheliax," the wizard follows smugly.
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Eltran is absolutely anxious to meet the crew that his step brother praised so much! He is clearly astounded to see a tree house when he arrives in Tamran.
Eltran walks with slow steps in his full plate armor and heavy shield which clearly encumber him heavily.
He is clearly quite chubby and not really the most attractive man. His mixed Taldane and Tian Xia heritage together with his Ifrit blood make him an oddball that does not feel welcome in most places.
When he meets the group he waves.
"Greetings to you all." says the corpulant man with a self conscious smile.
Resting on top of his chest, an amulet showing the holy symbol of Pharasma is visible.
Facing you all he bows but more out of tradition than courtesy you believe.
“Eltran Katsu is my name. And I just returned from the Planes so feeling good old Golarion again is great! I am Xiao junior's step brother and have heard a lot about all of you! Good things mostly! Eh ... yeahh. Really! Yes!“
He does not really have a natural presence and unfortunately might come across as strange sometimes.
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"As I do not believe we have antecedently been acquainted I shall forgive your failing of having uttered such a fallacious fabrication about celebrated Cheliax," the wizard follows smugly.
"You mean, the upstart eastern rebel-state of the Taldan Empire? We Taldans simply call it 'the breakaway province'." Sir Hayden smirks at Golthwur.
He turns to Eltran before the old man can sputter a response. "Welcome, young man. Xiao's step-brother? Ah, yes...I suppose I see the resemblance..." The knight trails off for a moment. "Well, any relation of Xiao's is welcome. I'm Sir Hayden Greyrun." He glances at Golthwur. "Of Taldor. Now, what brings you to this noxious corner of the swamp?"
Hayden looks over to the tiefling and recoils a bit at the mouth full of teeth. "And you, my dear? Are you here to help us in whatever task they have lined up? Perhaps our erstwhile secretary knows why we've been asked here."
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He turns to Eltran before the old man can sputter a response. "Welcome, young man. Xiao's step-brother? Ah, yes...I suppose I see the resemblance..." The knight trails off for a moment. "Well, any relation of Xiao's is welcome. I'm Sir Hayden Greyrun." He glances at Golthwur. "Of Taldor. Now, what brings you to this noxious corner of the swamp?"
Eltran smiles shyly.
“Thank you for welcoming me Sir Hayden! Well, I look human but I am an Ifrit in nature. And I was born on the plane of fire where magma connects to the plane of earth. If the man and woman that I later in life called ‘father’ - the Halfling Xiao Katsu - and mother - the ifrit Soreya - would not have rescued and adopted me and my sister Dana then we would still be slaves!“ he says with some hesitation.
“Xiao Junior is my father’s only Halfling son by natural birth but we have many adopted Kitsune and Ifrit siblings and I love Xiao junior like my own flesh!!“ he says with a genuine smile.
”I haven’t been back to the material plane for a while and saw my siblings again only recently as I am a chronicler of worlds. I congregated with some of my peers in Elysium’s freedom to share our discoveries and theories!“
He looks at Sir Hayden curiously.
”What about you Sir Hayden? You are of noble heritage I assume?“
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Hayden chuckles, but shakes his head. "Me? No, no. I do not have that honor. My father was man-at-arms for Lord Reyes. A trusted leader of his household guard, but not high-born. Lord Reyes had a penchant for archery and decided that his knights should be archer-knights. I had the fortune to be knighted by him, but that does not make me nobility. That honor should be reserved for the true leaders of society, those that will uphold our ideals and make the critical decisions for their people." The bearded man smiles and nods.
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Angela peeks her head out of the equipment storage room, and double checks that Golthwur is not anywhere in sight. Somedays one just didn't want to have to deal with the Blasted Best Buffoon of Boundless Bickering and Blustering. She notes the all clear, despite hearing his voice a few moments ago and heads out of the room.
At her hip are three new soft flask containers, very clearly marked with the name of the spell in the potion as well as the maker and date of brewing. If the potion was a dud she'd want to talk to the maker in depth.
She gives a small start of surprise at the new person, before extending a hand in greeting. "Angela Isafira, Secretary of the Grand Lodge and Chronicle Auditor third-class. Pleasure to meet you... Did I hear right that you are related to Xiao? He was a pleasure to have on our last journey and gave some of the better descriptive reports I've seen in a while."
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Hayden chuckles, but shakes his head. "Me? No, no. I do not have that honor. My father was man-at-arms for Lord Reyes. A trusted leader of his household guard, but not high-born. Lord Reyes had a penchant for archery and decided that his knights should be archer-knights. I had the fortune to be knighted by him, but that does not make me nobility. That honor should be reserved for the true leaders of society, those that will uphold our ideals and make the critical decisions for their people." The bearded man smiles and nods.
Eltran nods. "Your trust in the Society's leadership is great as it seems. I hope we will not be disappointed. I have observed that similar to the chroniclers' of worlds the Pathfinder Society forsakes morality in service of understanding; Pathfinders can be warriors, mystics, scholars and soldiers and good or bad often plays no role." he says thoughtfully.
She gives a small start of surprise at the new person, before extending a hand in greeting. "Angela Isafira, Secretary of the Grand Lodge and Chronicle Auditor third-class. Pleasure to meet you... Did I hear right that you are related to Xiao? He was a pleasure to have on our last journey and gave some of the better descriptive reports I've seen in a while."
Eltran bows in Tien fashion.
"The pleasure is all mine. Your knowledge is deep as I have heard from Xiao Junior and I am looking forward to working with you Lady Isafira!" he says shyly.
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Dawn rouses from her long nap. A little more humid than her Commune, but tree housing is part of her life. "Good morning, Duke of Deep Breaths! Sultan of Speeches! Alum of Alliteration! It's... yaaawn... Golthwur. Good to see you again."
"Hi Sir Hayden! Ready to help the Pathfinders? Any cool stories in the meantime? Foremother LOVED our last adventure together. She said she can try to fix your uh... leg. It always seems to cramp once a fight breaks out. I brought a ton of herbs to help but they don't do well in this humidity." She points at the mess of wilted and molding herbs, unused to the jungle humidity.
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Dawn turns, pauses, looks down and drops to her knees to offer Angela a high five. "Hey Angela. Filled out any... uh... TPS reports... lately?" Her face scrunches into a prune as she tries and fails to understand Angela's organization techniques.
She then stands up and bounds over to one newcomer, the human-ish person known as "Eltran Katsu? How's Xiao Junior doing? I assume he's thinking up some new jokes to tell. His humor is really underrated. He just makes... observations. But what about you? Comedian? Storyteller? Poet?"
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Once that's done, she makes one more move towards the tiefling. She stares at the woman with a lot of curiosity. "Oh, sorry new friend. I've just never seen anyone with fiery skin and such beautiful teeth. You must have no trouble eating lots of meat."
"Oh sorry! I'm Dawn. Foremother made a big deal about teeth and dental care."
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She then stands up and bounds over to one newcomer, the human-ish person known as "Eltran Katsu? How's Xiao Junior doing? I assume he's thinking up some new jokes to tell. His humor is really underrated. He just makes... observations. But what about you? Comedian? Storyteller? Poet?"
Eltran tries to smile at the enthusiastic Dawn but his reserved character makes that a little difficult.
"Ehhh ... " he says a little flabbergasted and rather bows in Tien fashion to show his respect.
"Well, ehh.. yes Xiao junior is great. I ... yes, I mean yes he is funny but ... well I do not get jokes all the time so I might ... well, yes! And I .. I am a researcher and chronicler with a fable for engineering!!"
He looks at Dawn with a strange look on his face.
"And what is your area of expertise?"
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"Hi Sir Hayden! Ready to help the Pathfinders? Any cool stories in the meantime? Foremother LOVED our last adventure together. She said she can try to fix your uh... leg. It always seems to cramp once a fight breaks out. I brought a ton of herbs to help but they don't do well in this humidity." She points at the mess of wilted and molding herbs, unused to the jungle humidity.
Hayden looks at Dawn and bows his head to her in greeting. He comes back up with a small smile on his face. "Does the Foremother believe she can heal it where Sarenrae herself cannot? The Dawnflower has seen to leave me with this injury as a reminder of my past, I believe. Or perhaps to remind of others' pain. Whatever the reason, her blessing does not touch it and I must respect that. But it does hinder me as much now as in battle." He motions down to his leg that was injured when trapped under a fallen horse.
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"Sir Hayden... hmm. Well, if a god can't cure it, I don't think my herbs will help." She frowns a bit. "But if the god is giving all of these blessed powers in exchange, it can't be all that bad." She thinks a bit before shrugging. "Still, Foremother would love to hear more of your stories. My brain can only fit so much."
Turning to Eltran, she bobs back and forth on her heels as he explains himself. "Oh, are you two a comedy duo? He's the wacky guy, you're the straight man. No wait! He drags you on wacky adventures and you try to be rational!" She claps and grins, proud of her discovery.
"I've been working on a comedy routine including bells, rosemary, entrepreneurialism and spankings. It's a work in progress, but it's also really cool!"
From deeper into the Ashfall Lodge, a matronly-looking halfling woman is baking bread, and surreptiously listening on her new field agents. "Welcomer bless, I ask for field agents and they send this poor Nirmathi lodge a bunch of bluebloods and bootlickers," she murmurs to herself.
There's very little to indicate that Oriah Toolah is anything more than a proud Nirmathi grandmother, let alone a trusted venture captain of the Pathfinder Society, or one of the most powerful priests of Alseta outside the elven lands of Kyonin.
She screws on a happy face and enters with freshly-baked bread rolls and butter. "I wanted to get a look at ye, and welcome you to Ashfall Lodge, Pathfinders," she says as she offers the nosh, "I'd tell ye about your mission, but its not my mission to give. My agent, Lacklan, was the one to sniff it out."
Just in time after the agents have time to help themselves, a grizzled looking man, with a stump leg. In a scratchy voice, he introduces himself with only a simple "Reginar Lacklan."
Without a further ado, he starts his mission briefing. "We've got Razmiri cultists in Tamran right now. Like rats infesting the basement. Normally, it wouldn't matter much, we can take them at your leisure, they don't cause enough trouble to be a top priority, but they've been building up to something. And yesterday, I found out what. They're making an expedition to the Isle of Terror. Despite that lovely name, we've got to make sure they don't vandalize it. My sources tell me that their leader, an elf by the name of Iramine has assembled a locket or an amulet that she hopes will help unlock a great treasure. Don't know about that, but old Tar-Baphon's treasure vault, an entire city he once conquered, is on the Isle, and that's where I expect them to go. I've arranged for a boat, the Black Mist, to take you to the Isle. They've got a lead on you, so there's not much time to dither."
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As Gulthwur goes on his tirade the wizard he suddenly sees himself as a tiefling being tortured by Chellaxians for what seems like an eternity. There is no rhyme or reason to it, Gulthwur committed no crime, he, as a tiefling, was just tortured. This madness weakens his mental defenses for a moment (-2 to will saves) before it ends, though the memories remain.
"I wouldn't speak to a Chellaxian about how good or bad Chelliax is." she says as she walks off.
"Question if I may . . why do we care if these Razmiri cultists go to this isle? I mean, if they go to Tar-Baphon's old city they are probably going to die to ghosts or booby traps or a thousand other terrible things. And if they don't die and manage to get their pittance . . . what is it to us? Is there something we need them NOT to get?"
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Eltran bows in Tien fashion.
"The pleasure is all mine. Your knowledge is deep as I have heard from Xiao Junior and I am looking forward to working with you Lady Isafira!" he says shyly.
Feeling slightly embarrassed about forgetting that the Katsu family was Tien and not Avistani or Garundi, Angela hurries and gives a bow back in return. "I know about a variety of things, but the depths of my knowledge aren't the deepest. For example, Golthwur could probably tell you much more about magic than I would ever know. Also Angela is just fine. My parents taught at one of the universities in Galt ages ago, but they never held a title, so there's no need to call me a lady."
She gives Dawn a slightly bemused look as the woman once again proves she doesn't know how to interact with the secretary. She gives a very light high-five back and chuckles some at the TPS form. "It's good to see you again too, Dawn. And no I have not had to fill out a Temporary Protected Status form lately and I hope I don't have to for along time still. I have been filling out some fun paperwork lately, and actually could do with a break." She gives a stretch and then wanders into the lodge proper again, taking a seat around the table and listening to the briefing.
She raises a hand and asks, "Do we know what the Razmiri 'priests' are looking for and how dangerous it could be if released? Additionally, is there any information on what types of hazards and or creatures we might find there?"
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Hayden gives a slight groan as he hears the word Razmiri. "These pretenders sow falsehoods everywhere they go. Pretending that their ruler is a real god. If they are hunting something on the Isle of Terror, they're doing it at his behest, and I doubt he'll give up until they get it."
He stretches his injured leg out with a wince. "The best strategy might be to take this amulet from Iramine. Then they would have no hope of getting to whatever they seek."
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Temporary Protection Status...? So she can use paper to ward against enemies? Did she learn this from that cool temple? They had paper wards everywhere!
"Oh. So, they're hunting some tomb for treasure? Oh, I see. There's always some weirdos showing up in the Commune, acting all nice but they want to plunder some of Foremother's goods." She thinks for a bit. "So if we take the amulet, then they can't uncover... uh, whatever they are looking for."
"Its not out of our concern for their lives, I can tell you that, but we don't want the Razmiri to take the valuables away from what could be a promising archeological site. The city predates Tar-Baphon, could even have been his birthplace for we know. And the Razmiri getting their hand on the lucre of Tar-Baphon could be troublesome down the road. Normally, I'd expect them all to lose their heads to the Tyrant's safety measures, but Iramine's a couple centuries old, and she's canny."
"What they're looking for is treasure beyond what we could dream of. Xin-Grafar was the Whispering Tyrant's treasury. Its a city of gold. Before your hearts grow too greedy, what we know is that that crazy old lich-king put curse after curse on it. And ever since the Shining Crusade, all civilized folk had decided to let sleeping dogs lie, and not risk tripping some magical experiment that boils Lake Encarthan or, Nirvana forbid, somehow set the Whispering Tyrant free."
"Only the Living God and his followers are mad enough to risk it, and it may be worth it to them. There's a few rumors that Tar-Baphon, early in his wizarding days had a jewel of everlasting gold. An artifact that could turn anything into gold, including living being. Obviously, Tar-Baphon would have enchanted that to prevent anyone from walking off with it, but supposably, the amulet that Iramine's got would let her take it."
"As for dangers, the island was the home base for the Whispering Tyrant for years. Even now, centuries later, the island's periodically wracked by storms of negative energy. Life there on the island is twisted and hard. We lost an expedition of good Pathfinders there nearly ten years ago. Experienced agents, not green horns."
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As Gulthwur goes on his tirade the wizard he suddenly sees himself as a tiefling being tortured by Chellaxians for what seems like an eternity. There is no rhyme or reason to it, Gulthwur committed no crime, he, as a tiefling, was just tortured. This madness weakens his mental defenses for a moment (-2 to will saves) before it ends, though the memories remain.
"I wouldn't speak to a Chellaxian about how good or bad Chelliax is." she says as she walks off.
"Yes...well...," Golthwur mutters, quite lost for words at the moment. With the memory of the vision still quite fresh in his mind, he finally reflects allowed, "A most curious vision. That one man holding the tiefling's horns looked rather familiar. I wonder if I know him. Could he have been a former classmate, perhaps?"
Golthwur listens intently to Lacklan's briefing, then asks, "So, there may be some magical treasures on the island that could possibly be removed safely, right? I mean, if the Razmiri believe they can handle them safely, then certainly I, Golthwur Strath, Archmage of Artifacts and Collector of Curios, should be able to handle them as well, correct?"
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Golthwur listens intently to Lacklan's briefing, then asks, "So, there may be some magical treasures on the island that could possibly be removed safely, right? I mean, if the Razmiri believe they can handle them safely, then certainly I, Golthwur Strath, Archmage of Artifacts and Collector of Curios, should be able to handle them as well, correct?"
"I believe you might be missing the part about needing an amulet. If we were able to get it from the priests, then we might be able to take things away from there. But personally, cursed items can stay exactly where they are, amulet or no amulet."
She pauses for a moment and then asks the agent another question. "So are there any good ways to counteract the negative energy storms? And any clue what happened to the previous team so we don't befall the same fate. Making mistakes is one thing, but remaking the mistakes of someone else is just a waste of everyone's time."
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Golthwur listens intently to Lacklan's briefing, then asks, "So, there may be some magical treasures on the island that could possibly be removed safely, right? I mean, if the Razmiri believe they can handle them safely, then certainly I, Golthwur Strath, Archmage of Artifacts and Collector of Curios, should be able to handle them as well, correct?""I believe you might be missing the part about needing an amulet. If we were able to get it from the priests, then we might be able to take things away from there. But personally, cursed items can stay exactly where they are, amulet or no amulet."
She pauses for a moment and then asks the agent another question. "So are there any good ways to counteract the negative energy storms? And any clue what happened to the previous team so we don't befall the same fate. Making mistakes is one thing, but remaking the mistakes of someone else is just a waste of everyone's time."
"I think Gulthwur was speculating that minor, less . . . disruptive treasures might not be as cursed as an item that could ruin the gold market of Golarian. Magic swords and scrolls that are on undead guards, that sort of thing."
The grizzled vet rubs his chin, "Its possible,... I'm sorry, what is your name again? I can't make any promises about what you find in Xin-Grafar. If you think you can take it safely, I leave it to your judgment. We'd prefer, however, that you attempt to make the vault city inaccessible to anyone who isn't a Pathfinder."
"The only thing I can tell you about the storms is that they are storms. Lightning bolts, just made of death energy. Seek out shelter and try to wait them out. Luckily, we have reason to believe that Tar-Baphon literally buried his treasure city. Its most likely underground, so once you get in Xin-Grafar, you won't have to worry about them."
"Its pretty hard to put together a dossier about what happened to the expedition when no one from the previous expedition came back."
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"'Lightning bolts, just made of death energy.' That's about the most horrible thing I've ever heard. About even with, more TPS reports, or sharing a room with Golthwur again." The older knight snorts and gives a small grin.
"Is there any way to protect ourselves from the aura of death around this place? Necromantic energy, I suppose, tied to the Whispering Tyrant. Perhaps as a conduit to the Dawnflower, I could provide protection."
"Do we know anything about Iramine? Something we can use to find her or use against her?"
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Eltran thinks for moment and seems tired due to the heavy full plate armor that he is wearing although he can hardly move in it.
"My knowledge of the arcane, divine and planar properties of existance will surely aid to circumvent some of the dangers that we will face. I have heard enough and have no further questions!" he says ready to leave.
"We know that her adventuring career has lasted about a century, and she's got some arcane training. Other than that, I don't know much about her." Reginar says, "I suspect that your god's healing powers will help, Sir Greyrun."
The voyage from Tamran to the Isle of Terror. The waves of Lake Encarthan batter the Black Mist. The captain, Walren, strongly suggested that you keep to the cabin, out of the way of his crew. It takes days for the ship to arrive just outside the Island. The captain himself, along with a crew member, will take you to the island with a barely sea-worthy boat. The crew member spends most of her time just bailing water back over the side. "Light two signal fires along that edge, at least a half mile apart from one another, when you want to be picked up. I'll wait ten days, but no further. The morning of the eleventh day, I will be forced to head back to port."
The boat lands at the the foot of an old stone fort, millenia old. Captain Walren and his crew bid their goodbyes and leave the Pathfinders to the Island of Terror.
The fort is old, anything in it has been ravaged by wind, storm and sand. Surprisingly, there is the remnants of a firepit that is quite recent, and two gravemarkers, and two freshly dug graves.
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Angela nods as she takes in and jots down shorthand notes for the rest of the briefing. She does take a moment to add a memo to research into the possibility of making a negative energy lightning rod, if such a thing would even possibly work.
She gives up after her third book that has little scientific information beyond 'Don't get hit by one.' She might have to try constructing one on the island and experimenting.
As she gets on land she takes a long look at the fresh markings of other living beings and raises an eyebrow. "Signs that our quarry has arrived here, I presume?"
She nudges the pit and double checks the graves but has no clue if there's any other information to be garnered here.
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Sir Hayden is finally able to leave the boat, looking quite green in the face. "Knights are not meant to ride boats..." Once on dry land, he sinks to his knees to rest for a moment.
Finally, when Angela speaks, Hayden looks up and notices the camp. He struggles to his feet and then limps over to the graves, frowning. "I wonder who these two poor souls are." He reads the inscription on the grave markers.
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"Light two signal fires along that edge, at least a half mile apart from one another, when you want to be picked up. I'll wait ten days, but no further. The morning of the eleventh day, I will be forced to head back to port."
"By the planes, let us hope we will not be here more than a day or two, at most," mutter Golthwur.
"I wonder who these two poor souls are." He reads the inscription on the grave markers.
"The buried remains to which you have referred to as 'souls' are, presumably, no more than lifeless bodies. At the end of a creature's mortal life, its soul leaves its body." Golthwur begins to lecture, as if revealing some great mystery that somehow had beenunknown to the knight. "It manifests in the Ethereal Plane, beginning its journey with other souls via the River of Souls—a path that travels through the Elemental Planes toward the Astral Plane, with few--though, often tragic--exceptions. Your inquiry should have been stated as follows: 'I wonder to whom these two sets of remains once belonged?'"
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Eltran is silent most of the time and observes his surroundings.
In his heavy full plate armor he feels a little uncomfortable on the water as he can hardly move in it.
When they arrive he looks around.
"Look at the remnants of the firepit. It is no more than three days old!" he says.
"The buried remains to which you have referred to as 'souls' are, presumably, no more than lifeless bodies. At the end of a creature's mortal life, its soul leaves its body." Golthwur begins to lecture, as if revealing some great mystery that somehow had beenunknown to the knight. "It manifests in the Ethereal Plane, beginning its journey with other souls via the River of Souls—a path that travels through the Elemental Planes toward the Astral Plane, with few--though, often tragic--exceptions. Your inquiry should have been stated as follows: 'I wonder to whom these two sets of remains once belonged?'"
Eltran nods.
"You seem to know a lot about the planes! I would love to discuss this in more detail with you!" he says clapping his hands.
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Dawn sticks to the cabin for the most part, but she does turn invisible sometimes just to get some fresh air without bothering anyone. Okay, just bother them a little.
When the captain explains how to hail the ship. "Oh, thanks captain. I thought we were going to have to swim back!"
Something, anything to break up the dismal mood. The Isle of Terror isn't exactly a charming vacation spot.
"Three days old? And they lost two already." Dawn keeps her falchion ready. "Any idea where those Ramzoni worshippers went?"
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"The buried remains to which you have referred to as 'souls' are, presumably, no more than lifeless bodies. At the end of a creature's mortal life, its soul leaves its body." Golthwur begins to lecture, as if revealing some great mystery that somehow had beenunknown to the knight. "It manifests in the Ethereal Plane, beginning its journey with other souls via the River of Souls—a path that travels through the Elemental Planes toward the Astral Plane, with few--though, often tragic--exceptions. Your inquiry should have been stated as follows: 'I wonder to whom these two sets of remains once belonged?'"
"For pitty's sake, it's a figure of speech Gulthwur! We all know how dying works. C'mon, we best get going." Nisha will get out her longspear and start trying to find a path up to the ruined city.
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"The buried remains to which you have referred to as 'souls' are, presumably, no more than lifeless bodies. At the end of a creature's mortal life, its soul leaves its body."
" Your inquiry should have been stated as follows: 'I wonder to whom these two sets of remains once belonged?'"
Hayden looks to the old man and then smirks at Nisha. "Ah, is that how it works? I had always wondered." Hayden then shakes his head. "Actually though, Golthwur, I believe my question was more on point. I wonder what befell the souls of these two. Though I am equally interested in what happened to their physical bodies too."
Sir Hayden, if he truly is interested in what happened to their physical bodies, would note that it appears the grave is a very shallow one.
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Angela gives Golthwur and Hayden both glances and coughs lightly. "If we're done with Dying 101 lessons and trying to use sarcasm on the the sarcasm immune, are we going to disrupt these graves, or can we start looking for either cover or better yet an entrance to the City proper before we get struck by negative energy bolts?"
As the two decide, Angela takes a quick scan of the surroundings and horizon.
Golthwur does not detect any magic from the corpses.
Angela is able to alert the group to the presence of wolves attempting to flank the group. However, she notes this wolves are not... right. Bigger and black-furred, yes, but also with strange humps on their backs, and drooling black ichor. A couple of them have extra limbs pointing at odd angles.
Wolves of Terror Isle
Bold can Act
Nisha
Dawn
Golthwur
Heydun
Green
Blue
Eltran
Yellow
Red
Angela
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"Oh, wolves!" Dawn looks up with a smile.
"Oh... wolves?" Dawn tilts her head and frowns. "Where I'm from, wolves don't walk that way."
She moves up between some rubble and calls out "Here doggy! Come here! Stay. Staaaaaay!" She draws her Falchion while moving and casts Blur upon herself, causing her to look fuzzy and hard to pinpoint.