Lost Lands

Game Master Edeldhur

Pondering that a moment, Jalros eventually bobs his head and says, "Fair enough." Cutting his attention away from Hamish, "Glad I'm out here," he says flatly.

Hearing the loud chatter from outside, Naomi sticks her head out the door, "Shhhh you two, she's praying." Glaring at each of them she turns back into the temple, metaphorically shutting the door.

there is no door :)

there is no door :)

Is that like 'there is no spoon' or some of that magical mumbo jumbo you wizards do? Oh, and I fixed it...

Ha! That made my night sir, thank you :) :) :)

Hamish rolls his eyes when Naomi disappears back inside after shushing he and Jalros. Making a minor adjustment to Snowbell's pack he just gives the brawler a wide grin and an I told you so look. "Preachin' it is." He says with a soft chuckle.

Looking back at Namoi with a raised eyebrow before turning his attention to Hamish, the bouncer's face nearly shatters due to the really odd expression his face makes as the smallest crack of a smile just barely forms, making it near impossible to catch unless one was focused on it as it vanishes just as quickly.

A few short moments after, the ritual is finished, and the priestess turns to regard you - "Well met strangers" - she offers in a melodic, but firm voice - "I am Shandril - what brings you to the House of Freya?"

knowledge religion DC 12: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

While Shandril finishes her small ritual sacrifice of grain to Freya, Naomi turns to the Doorway looking out at Hamish, she smirks, mouthing the words 'I told you she was praying.' Turning back towards the front of the temple she realizes Shandril is headed there way.

Nodding in response she politely answers, "Well met, I'm Anna Chadwick's granddaughter Naomi." she nods her head towards the others and explains, "The boys and I are headed to the old wizard's tower once owned by a wizard named Eralion. The rumor around town says it's infested with undead. So, we came to purchase some holy water and to inquire if you have any further information that may be of value."

diplomacy?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
well that's pitiful

diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

"Hopefully it is just a rumor, but if it is not, anything that you might know to handle them might keep us alive." Gubble asks as nicely as he can.

Guthlag watches on quietly. "Vampire," he mouths, trying out the word. It tastes of death. He watches Naomi closely, wondering why she hasn't held out both hands full of coins yet. In his own interactions with townsfolk, he's found it's best to lead with money and follow up with silence.

Hamish watches the clouds drift by overhead, his shoulder leaning against Snowbell's sturdy frame. With a sigh he notices the shadows growing narrower, the morning slipping past.

"Is she reciting the entire Edda in there." He mumbles pulling out an apple and biting into the juicy fruit with a loud crunch.

Hearing the overly loud crunching coming from outside of the temple, Naomi leans back out the door. Her eyes wide, she puts a finger over her lips and 'shushes' Hamish, giving Jalros the stink eye for good measure. Then returning her attention to the priestess.

Jalros looks to Hamish when he crunches the apple, looks to Naomi as she peers out again and gives them both a cross look, then turns back to Hamish when she takes her leave and responds with, "Probably."