"I still feel better not speaking loud. This whole places makes me nervous. I should be happy about the light but it does not make it better. What if Kassen himself had his rest disturbed and has risen to undeath now? I know it's moot but I feel better being a mouse.", Roya replies, not speaking up much. "I'm not good with mechanics and stuff. I have no idea...", she looks to the others, hoping someone could figure out a solution.
Miron watches the path of the statues carefully and moves up to the limit of their reach. When they are triggered again, he hustles forward as they grind back to their original positions.
Approaching the door, he slows to a stop. "I mean, it's probably the flame, right?" he suggests. "And if the tomb has been disturbed, then I guess it's up to us to try and fix it." he adds, only slightly uncertainly.
Before they head in he casts Mage Armor and his skin briefly shimmers with the pale blue glow as the spell settles over him.
"So, is it the flame? What's in there?", Roya inquires from her place in the rear. She was just small enough to see people's backs as the group cautiously made it's way through the door.
Joras says, "Whatever the light is we don't have much choice, if we can we must open the door. Still wouldn't hurt to try to see if it's trapped are not."
Joras has his eye look for things he is not trained to spot.
Door and area around for traps, alarms, anything out of the ordinary.
Joras tells everyone, "As near as I can tell there's"
So does anyone open the door?
Brandard grimaces and then grabs the door handle and slams the door open.
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Two horses and a trio of ponies slowly pick their way down the treacherous path of Serpent's Gorge. The late autumn sun rides high in a cloudless sky, with no hint of rain conspiring to twist Brandark and Perri's ankles in a few days' time. Each beast of burden is loaded with saddlebags near full to bursting, and each carries at least one rider save for one horse carrying two people.
As the near-dozen Kassenites (equines included) reach the bottom of the valley, the humans dismount and start stretching. One of the men and one of the women start rubbing the horses' muscles, while the others start unloading the saddlebags.
"So it's three days until they get here, right?" asks one of the men.
"Right. Plenty of time to get things all set up," another responds.
"Anyone know who this year's six are?"
"Let's see...Brandark Ironhame, Conrad Mendelson, Joras Iggins, Miron Belodor, Perri Purrun, and Roya Tani."
"Oh, good group! How long do you think it'll take 'em?"
"Five days."
"Oh ye of little faith! As I recall it only took us four days."
"Well we were good. Come on, Roldare, stop slacking."
Roldare, looking well-groomed and not at all babbling incoherently, laughs and opens the doors to the Crypt of the Everflame: a threshhold that he had last crossed four years prior when Mayor Uptal had chosen him, his sister Dimira, one of Father Prasst's acolytes named Paak, a baker and disciple of that local mystic Ilimara Oniri named Bryn, and two of the Mayor's apprentices named Gerol and Vark. The six of them begin taking in the supplies they had come with. Pillows. Extra food packed for the kids. Quivers of blunted arrows. The "home" and "family" shields. A jangling bag of keys. Roldare was looking forward to using a bag of magic dust that old Holgast had provided this year that would make it look like no one had been in the Crypt in the last year, just to add that extra wrinkle. Of course, he couldn't use it until they were done and on the way out, otherwise they'd disturb the dust and leave footprints everywhere and...ugh, it would be a whole thing.
Hours pass as the six friends busy themselves setting up the first floor of the Crypt. They joke as they remember doing all this themselves four years prior. Paak grumbles at the idea of leaving a hint at the bottom of one of the pillow pits, but Bryn reminds him that it had taken them a full hour to figure it out last time. They pair off to go into the different rooms and maximize their efforts. The sooner they got done, the sooner they could relax. Hells, if they were really fast, they might even be able to make it back in time for the send-off ceremony on the 4th!
Gerol and Vark set up a small cooking fire in the back corner of the first floor for dinner, where the Crypt had the built-in chimney to allow them to not smoke themselves to death inside. Roldare comes back from a brief hunting expedition outside, patting his trusty crossbow and hold up a brace of coneys he had caught. As the group gets their dinner going, they continue chatting.
"You know what would be great this year?" Bryn asks aloud, half-rhetorically, as he continues on. "I've been reading a bit more about the history of the Crypt. And I don't know exactly how you'd do it, but it'd be a hoot to have an illusion of Asar down in Kassen's tomb."
"Who?" Gerol asks, his hands busy with the task of skinning one of the rabbits.
Bryn rolls his eyes. "The bandit leader? Remember, the one in all the murals?"
Gerol shrugs. "Right. So, why?"
Bryn gets excited. "Just to bring it all together! We're not good at teaching the history of how they fought. I mean, Gerol doesn't even know his name."
Paak shakes his head, drawing closer to the cooking fire to tend iit. "I don't know...seems a little sacreligious to me."
"Against whom?" Bryn retorts, raising his eyebrow.
Paak opens his mouth to respond, but never gets a chance to as his chest erupts in a spray of blood and metal. He pitches face first into the fire. Dimira screams, looking up to see a skeleton behind the fallen acolyte, holding a gore-slicked sword. Gerol picks up his skinning dagger while Vark draws a longsword. The room descends into chaos as more skeletons begin filing in. Roldare's crossbow bolts and Gerol and Vark's blades do next to nothing against the skeletal horde, but Bryn enters a fighting stance, turning into a blur of punches and kicks, each blow shattering bone and beginning to clear the way. Dimira had fallen over Paak's body, crying and trying to drag him out of the flames, but her brother grabs her shoulder.
"We have to go!" he shouts, wrenching her from the bloody, smoldering corpse of their friend and ushering her out with the others into the next room. The room was choked with more of the walking, clattering dead. Treating Bryn as the tip of the spear, Gerol and Vark try to protect her by batting away the jagged claws and broken blades of animated skeletons. Roldare takes the back and puts the weaponless Dimira in the center, using his crossbow more as a cudgel than a ranged weapon.
Then a skeleton clad in fine chainmail, an enormous sword sheathed at its back and a broken golden chain dangling around his neck, walks into the room from the western hall. The armor and the golden chain look unquestionably like that of Ekat Kassen's enemy, the bandit leader, as depicted in murals throughout the Crypt. A cold blue flame simmers in the skeleton's empty eye sockets. Although it has no face, its dark countenance betrays lingering, unliving rage. This well-clad skeleton moves forward and Bryn throws himself forward. A flurry of blows is deflected with seemingly no effort and the armored skeleton rams its blade through the monastic warrior.
Terrified, the remaining four living back away in fear. The skeleton lifts a boney, clawed hand and points it at Dimira, speaking in a masculine voice. "I will take this one below. Kill the rest."
With a twist of its arm, the armored skeleton lifts Dimira off her feet and throws her over his shoulder, returning back the way it came from originally. Roldare begins running after her, but Gerol and Vark grab him. "If you want to save her, we have to get out of here and get help!" Vark says. "The Mayor will know what to do! It's not safe for the kids to come here right now!"
Roldare screams inconsolably as Gerol and Vark usher him down into the stairs towards the room with the golem. Back the three of them fight, sustaining injuries left and right from the lesser skeletons as they make their way through the sword gauntlet and the room with the key pool, until the arrive at the crypt's vestibule. There, Gerol and Vark are swarmed, finally succumbing to fatigue and blood loss as the skeletons cut them down before they can escape. Roldare, with his escape cut off and having watched his sister captured and four of his oldest friends cut down before him, flees into the room with the pits and pillows. In his desperation to flee, he falls into one of them.
And there he waits. Listening to the sound of bone walking on stone around him. The sound of the horses outside whinnying in terror. And slowly, the fade of all sound but his own heartbeat.
Deeply injured, he waits there for a few hours before dragging himself from the pit. By the time he escapes, his fingertips are bloodied. He drags himself to the southern door of the pit room, producing his bypass key and slipping carefully into the next hall. From there, he barricades himself in the provision room. He wants to save Dimira. He wants to plan. But there is no hope.
The dead should not speak.
---
The wide brass doors swing open on silent hinges to reveal a vast room: the largest by far in the entirety of the crypt, and so large that the young Kassenites can't see everything from where they stands. The only light emanates from a torch mounted above the crypt, flickering with a pale golden fire. It must be the Everflame. Tall pillars march across the chamber, ending at a dais on the farside, on which is set a large stone sarcophagus. The lid of the sarcophagus has been removed and lies off to one side.
A single form rests beside the sarcophagus: that of a comely woman in tattered clothing. Her back rises and falls in shallow breaths--the only indication that she is alive, though most likely asleep or unconscious.
As the doors open, a dry, mirthless laugh can be heard from the dark recesses of the tomb, echoing around and leaving no clear sense of where it's originating from.
"So, Kassen's heroes have come to fight me again. You will make fine minions in my army of the dead. Come: meet your fate." A wicked-looking skeleton strides into view. A cold blue flame burns in its empty eye sockets. The observant recognize the polished mail and cruel sword from the paintings of Asar elsewhere in the Crypt. Risen before you is the man who killed the town's founder: Asar Vergas.
Red & Green Readied Actions
Four more skeletons emerge from around the pillars, two carrying longbows and two carrying scimitars. The ones with the longbows pull strings taut and let loose an arrow each in quick succession at Perri and Conrad in the doorway, but both clang off of a brass door. The ones with scimitars advance in front of their bow-wielding brethren and take a prepared stance, with their blades held in both hands above their heads.
Skeletons
Miron
Roya
Joras
Brandark
Conrad
Asar
Perri
"Oh my...", Roya whispers when she pushes past her companions to see and is staring at several Skeletons, among them one that looks undoubtedly like Asar Vergas.
Finding some resolve in her faith, and unwilling to give up so close to their goal, she raises one hand to the Divine Symbol on her neck, the other in the air:"Erastil, bless us so that we can saveguard our community."
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When the tragic events that transpired in the crypt of the Everflame would be recalled by the inhabitants of Kassen, and wise souls would tut and shake their heads as they discussed what the best of the village's youths could have done better, almost all would agree that they definitely should have seen the undead spirit hiding in the depths of the crypt coming. Hadn't Roldare warned them against a talking living dead? Hadn't they had met nothing of the sort until they reached the last room of the crypt's deepest floor, where the only light would be the Everflame's? Wasn't it obvious that rotten Asar, brought back from the dead with the urge to take his revenge against Kassen, wouldn't have stayed close to the very symbol of his enemy's power and victory?
If only they had used their heads a little more, they could have been better prepared. Roya would have saved a little more of her Channels. Perri would have grabbed his weapon before the group entered the room. Conrad's Oil of Magic Weapon wouldn't have stayed carefully tucked in his backpack, with its lid screwed tightly shut -but the boy wasn't known in Kassen for his thinking.
Then again, someone who could think -and really think- about the armed skeletons and their leader with the flaming, unnatural blue eyes looking down on them with their eternal, aberrant grin, would have perhaps turned away screaming.
It was perhaps somewhat lucky that Conrad wasn't known for all of his great thinking. The moment he locked eyes with the terrified Dimira, everything else in the room simply seemed to snap out of existence. All that remained in the world was the fear on her face, his own heartbeat pounding in her ears, and whatever stood between him and her. He could feel the weight of Shelyn's statue resting on his shoulders, could see it wrapped up safely in his winter blanket in his head -and all would be well.
It was with a war cry and a surprisingly cool head that he charged into the muck and confusion of battle, where fear had no place.
vs red
Miron moves into the doorway, the unnatural voice still ringing in his ears. He shivers, but is unsure whether it's from the perpetual cold, or the ghastly sight of the undead before him. As Roya's magic washes over him, he looks more determined. "it's just the cold" he mutters to himself.
The enigmatic knowledge that has prodded his thoughts all morning surges to the forefront. His fingers instinctively weave a new pattern, and with a motion unfamiliar yet oddly natural, he launches a crystalline ray at one of the nearest skeletons. The ray hits in a flash of teal as the magic cascades through the necromantic energy animating the skeletal warrior.
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Conrad might not be known for his thinking, but his boundless ferocity carries him down the steps towards the vanguard, intent on demolishing it so that he could get to Asar--and Dimira--beyond. Roya's words echo in his ears as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and brings his flail up, blocking two scimitars that swing down towards him and threaten to strike him down. The gods of the Kassenites smile on them even here below the ground. With a parry to knock his undead opponent off-balance, the barbarian swings his flail around and makes a savage impact. The resounding *crack* cleaves through ribs, spine, and chainmail alike as Conrad sends the fragments flying off to the side.
Just as he turns to look at the next enemy, Miron's ray impacts as well. Although it is a less inherently violent display, it is no less effective. The skeleton seems to seize up as though sinew still connected its bones instead of negative energy, and the cold red glow in its skull flickers before fading. It collapses to the ground in a clatter of metal and bone.
In the back, Asar lifts up his sword and his jaw bone clacks up and down in a mockery of a laugh. "Ah yes, you will serve me well in your unlives."
Skeletons:
Miron:
Roya:
Joras:
Brandark
Conrad
Asar
Perri:
More Skeletons
He reaches down to his waist and grabs a flask from it.
He then uncorks it, and pours it all over his Urgosh's axeblade.
I hope this works
He then Readies to attack any that get past.
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HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:7/7
Joras thought he was prepared for anything; he was wrong. The horrific sights presented to his unbelieving eyes leaves him stunned for a second as he regrets his now water dwelling sword or his trusty mandolin safe beyond the flooded areas but useless to him but he still can do a few things.
His eye is drawn to the everflame wondering Why is that still lit? Unless the abomination can't deal with it? Joras quietly says to anyone near, Miron , Brandark, or Roya most likely, "Maybe light a torch from the everlight? It might be enhanced because that thing would have extinguished that light if it could."
Joras then begins his bold singing of the triumph of righteous warriors in the face of unholy evil. His mind is prepared to later switch to using his healing for defense or offense.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:6/7
AC 23
Strength +3, BaB +2, Bless +1 (morale), Inspire Courage +1 (competence), Power Attack -1
As they recognize the gravity of the situation, the resident dwarf and halfling prepare for the coming battle. Joras' stirring litany fills the halls while Brandark renders his Urgosh magical.
Witnessing the deadliness with which Conrad had dispatched his mindless underling, Asar strides forward cleaves brutally into the young man . Asar takes a practiced defensive stance. "Songs won't save you," he taunts the young man dripping copious amounts of blood.
Seeing his friend take a massive blow, Perri throws his Bill to the side, hefts his own flail, and moves in to exact revenge. Rushing forward, he lets the heavy weight of the weapon carry it around Asar's defenses and manages to hit the villain with a deafening crunch !
Asar stumbles back from the telling blow and grits his jaws together. "And neither will numbers." He takes a hand off the hilt of his blade and snaps his bony fingers together.
From behind him, the two remaining mindless skeletons raise their bows once more and let fly two more arrows at the fearless frontliners. In spite of their injuries, both Conrad and Perri are easily able to deflect the bolts with their weapons, sending the missiles clattering behind them.
Asar maintains his defensive stance and chuckles mirthlessly. "Come, you who are eager to die. I'll usher you on your way."
Skeletons (2)
Miron:
Roya:
Joras:
Brandark:
Conrad:
Asar:
Perri:
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Roya fetches her Wand of Healing as she moves forward, then touches Conrads back: "By the grace of Erastil, let your wounds be healed."
Brandark moves up behind Perri.
I really need to get blunted bolts.
He then stands ready to move in either direction, as he cannot get past the struggling people in the line.
BAB, STR, Inspire, Bless, Magic Weapon
(S)
2H STR, Inspire, Magic Weapon
Miron darts into the large chamber and clambers down the edge of the staircase to the floor below. He turns to face Asar and focuses his power into another crystalline ray into the flank of the imposing skeleton.
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When Conrad is lost in his trance-like state, everything seems to exist in a blur. He barely has time to notice that Asar has left Dimira's side -to his relief- before pain erupts in his chest and he suddenly sees the skeleton standing before him, his burning eyes like two floating candle flames.
The last time Conrad has felt a pain this intense was when an orc's blade nearly cut him in two -and it dims just as quickly as it did then. Maybe this is an illusion too.
He grits his teeth and bites down a scream, gripping the handle of his flail tighter. The monster's lower jaw moves up and down mockingly, but his words don't register. It doesn't matter. The fight has just begun, and he is dead, not immortal.
Conrad shifts his stance, lifting his buckler and bending his knees slightly, ready to move out of the way of Asar's next attack. From behind his shield comes another blow.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:6/7
Joras looks around the corner at the bizarre situation and sees Roya helping keep Conrad fighting. He moves behind her and maintains the song while somehow managing to add a bit more urgency to it.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:5/7
AC 23
Roya's timely spellcasting knits Conrad's wound together so that his shoulder no longer threatens to separate from the rest of his chest. He is still badly injured, but has a bit more breathing room before he collapses. Unfortunately his screaming blow is easily parries by Asar, who seems unphased by the raging bellow. Brandark and Joras advance, their shorter statures preventing them from moving too far forward. But Miron reaches deep into the well of necromantic energy suffusing this once-blessed place and uses it to fight undeath. His ray streaks across the distance and impacts Asar, who seems surprised at the injury.
"I'll come for you soon, spellslinger," Asar says, his voice filled with malice. The dread skeleton switches targets to the one who had harmed up previously, trying to cut Perri down to size. The blade punctures through Perri's lamellar into his gut, and Perri coughs up blood. Asar takes a guarded step back and once more snaps his fingers.
But before the skeletal minions can take their shots, Perri heedlessly moves forward and takes his own swing at Ekat Kassen's ancient enemy. He brings his flail to bear, the weighted head of the weapon whistling through the stale air. But with a practiced motion, Asar catches the flail's damaging piece on the flat of his blade and brings its momentum to nothing.
Then the skeletons with bows choose their targets. The western skeleton shoots at Miron, whose mage armor renders the bolt into dust before it reaches him. But the eastern skeleton trained an arrow on the already heavily-wounded Perri and plants the missile directly in his chest. Perri looks at his twin injuries, sustained in so short a time, and pitches to his knees, his flail clattering to the floor.
Asar looks at the remaining five standing with cold eyes. "Who's next?"
---
Skeletons (2)
Miron:
Roya:
Joras:
Brandark:
Conrad:
Perri:
Asar:
"By thy faith, be healed and cleansed of evil.", Roya grips her Divine Focus again, this time letting a wave of Healing wash over her comrades.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:5/7
Seeing no other way he can help Joras continues with his song. Roya can do more to help the front line than he can even if it leaves her in danger, but he is ready to heal her if so needed.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:4/7
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No one but Asar sees a look of horror briefly flicker across the barbarian's face when Perri falls. It's clearly replaced with pure rage, and Conrad charges the living dead with even more savagery than before, and for but a brief moment, the skeleton seems almost like fragile, brittle bones unluckily standing in his path.
Miron jumps as the skeleton archer's missile nearly hits him. He scrambles forward to seek refuge behind one of the statues in the crypt.
He swiftly repeats the incantations, and peering out sends another ray of energy into unholy magic animating the skeleton.
Jumping down whats left of the stairs, and moving around Perri. Brandark moves into Melee with the skeleton.
This isn't the wisest thing that I have done, but it is needed.
He then attempts to drive his Urgosh blade through the skeleton.
BAB, STR, Bless, Inspire, Magic Weapon.
Slashing
2H STR, Inspire, Magic Weapon
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AC 23
Gasping, Perri's eyes jolt back open as Roya's wave of healing energy combats the miasma of necromantic energy. He wakes to find himself tangled in the bones of the fallen skeleton beneath him, his weapon lying just a bit away. He looks up just in time to witness Conrad deliver a powerful blow to Asar, who staggers back but remains forthright in his undead zeal. Joras maintains his song, spurring his fellows on while Brandark moves down and swings his axe. The blade of the axe clangs off of Asar's armor to no effect, though the force is probably causing Asar's bones to rattle against each other. Finally, the group's resident sorcerer sends a cascading beam of energy across the tomb, trading missiles with the longbow-wielding skeleton. The bundle of bones shudders before its animating energy dissipates.
Perri considers whether to try to crawl away, grasp for his weapon, stand up, or cover his vitals and hope that Asar doesn't pay more attention to him. He waits, aware that another blow from the undead menace might spell his death.
And indeed, Asar seems otherwise-focused as he raises his blade to attack Conrad. With another brutal slash, he nearly cuts the barbarian down once more.
Then Asar steps around Conrad, drawing uncomfortably within reach of Miron, whom the skeleton eyes with hatred. "As I said, spellslinger, your doom is at hand. I killed the last of your kind who dared enter this chamber." Indeed, as Miron glances behind him, he can just see a corpse lying face down in the western wing next to an open sarcophagus.
Perri takes the opportunity of his opponent turning his attention away to grab for his flail and stand back up. He wobbles on his feet. His wounds may no longer be actively bleeding, but he still looks to be in terrible shape.
The remaining skeleton begins moving once more, strafing around the back pillar before reappearing and sending an arrow at Brandark. Thankfully, the dwarf deflects the bolt with a swift snap of his urgosh.
Archer Skeleton
Miron:
Roya:
Joras:
Brandark:
Conrad:
Asar: -27
Perri:
Brandark steps out in to the room. He then quickly shakes his head, and then steps into the fray again.
You misbegotton son of a CUR!!! you are an ABONIMATION AND SHOULD NO LONGER BE ALLOWED TO WALK THIS LAND
Brandark ends with a holler, as he drives his Urgosh at the skeleton.
BAB, STR, Flank, Bless, Inspire, Magic Weapon.
Slashing
EDIT - Magic Weapon now 7/10 Rounds
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:4/7
Joras maintains he singing while despartely tries to think of something availible in the room (other than what he's already thought of) to see if he overlooked anything that could aid against these unending nightmares.
HP:(8/9) AC:16
Conditions: Normal
Level 1 Spells 3/3 left.
Bardic Performance:3/7
Roya channels Erastils divine will once more, hoping to bolster her allies against the undead champion before her.
After seeing the powerful strikes of the skeleton, Miron resolves to put some distance between himself and the skeleton. He ducks away and circles around the pillars to a safer vantage point.
Joras' song provides a backdrop to the scene as Miron stumbles away from the skeletal champion and Roya bursts forth with energy. Brandark hefts his blade and makes Uncle Braggar proud, proving that Ironhame steel is the best in Kassen. With a bellowing rebuke, the dwarf carves into Asar, whose eyes flicker. "It was not by my hand or desire that Asar Vergas, champion of Lastwall, walks this ground once more! Gods damn, it was--"
Conrad expertly bashes Asar's skull, sending it flying from his shoulders, and clattering across the floor until it abuts against the nearest sarcophagus. There is almost a look of shock apparent within the blue eyes of cold flame as the menace's bones spiral away within the suit of chainmail. The skull chatters once, twice, three times, before going finally silent.
Off to the other side of the room, the final skeleton raises its bow, shaking. As it pulls the bowstring back, its arms snap and it collapses as well.
Asar Vergas is no more.
Roya channels her patrons energy once more, then rushes to the woman in tattered clothing next to the Sarcophagus to check her condition.
She was hoping against all odds that it was Dimira, and that she would be fine...she seemed to be breathing, but if her brothers mind had been broken, she was afraid to even guess what state hers was in.
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Conrad feels a rush of deep satisfaction when his flail connects with Asar's teeth, sending the skeleton's skull flying across the room like a macabre game of cricket. He turns to the remaining archer -only to see it dissolve into thin air. It's over.
He is used to feeling exhausted and hurt after every battle he spends pushing against his own physical limits in a state of near-trance. This time, the reality of his body hits him hard. The throbbing, dull pain in his left shoulder gradually becomes sharper; blood covers his arm and torso where Asar's blade has sliced through armour and flesh, and the handle of his flail is wet with it. A quick glance at his shoulder confirms it's a mess of a muscle and bone that he shouldn't have been able to lift, yet alone strain by having it bring a flail up and down on solid bones. It's clinging to his body by some miracle, and Conrad has to bite down a scream as the pain becomes nearly unbearable. Stars flashes in front of his eyes, and he has to lean against the wall for support right before Roya's healing energy washes over him, knitting together torn tissue and taking away some of the dizziness. He mutters an inaudible prayer to Shelyn, grateful that death and evil didn't prevail on that day -and a bit bemused that he's still alive..
He meets Brandark's eyes. "Thank you," he croaks in a small voice, his first words since the beginning of the fight. His eyes flicker over to Roya leaning over Dimira, and with some effort, he raises his voice. "Is she injured?" he asks hoarsely.
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Brandark transfers his Urgosh to his left hand and offers his right to Conrad in a warriors clasp.
No need to thank me Brother, I just wish I had something a little more suited for fighting the walking dead.
He then crouches down and looks over the corpse as Roya looks over the girl in the coffin
Miron takes a moment to breathe as he watches the flame of the skeletal Asar fade away. Wrapping his cloak back around himself, he casts Detect Magic and looks briefly over the unconscious woman, before turning to check over the remains of Asar.
"What do you suppose he was going to say at the end there?" he asks. "Did someone else bring back his spirit?"
Remembering the other thing Asar had said, Miron then goes to investigate the corpse that the skeleton had taunted him with.
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Brandark transfers his Urgosh to his left hand and offers his right to Conrad in a warriors clasp.
No need to thank me Brother, I just wish I had something a little more suited for fighting the walking dead.
He then crouches down and looks over the corpse as Roya looks over the girl in the coffin
The handshake is a little awkward. Conrad's left handed, and winces when he tries to move his mangled left arm. They have to change sides. Still, he accepts the handshake gratefully.
It's a little weird, he thinks, that he should have been so distrustful of Brandark once...
After a quick check to ensure the skeletons demise, Brandark then looks over Perri, to see if there is any help he can do there.
Stepping forward a bit now that Asar seems to have gone down, Roya's final channel brings a blush of color to Dimira's checks. She must have just been unconscious. As Roya gets to her, her eyes flutter open and she comes to you with a cough.
"Y-you're the ones the Mayor chose," she says weakly. You all have seen Dimira many times serving tables at the Seven Silvers Tavern, though you now recall that she was notably not there the evening before you left town. She looks much worse for wear now, her skirt tattered and several cuts and bruises all over her face and arms. She's also clearly dehydrated. The recent healing has helped with this, but she was--and still is--in rough shape. But as far as Roya can tell, she has no permanent physical injuries. "I knew you'd come. I told him you would."
---
Even after the healing, Perri seems to be in even worse shape than Conrad. They had all sustained significant injuries. The warrior seems to appreciate Brandark's concern, but seems to have withdrawn into the same contemplative mood that has gripped him for most of the last day.
---
Miron doesn't see any magical auras on Dimira, but Asar's remains are glowing with magic.
There are also several auras around the central open sarcophagus behind Dimira. One aura (of moderate evocation) seems to emanate from the Everflame itself, while there are several more coming from Ekat Kassen's open sarcophagus--at least five. Moderate abjuration, moderate conjuration (two), moderate evocation, and moderate transmutation greet Mirons eyes. These are a suit of +2 full plate, a bag of holding (type I), a +1 flaming longsword, a +1 bashing heavy steel shield, and a water elemental gem.
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Miron leaves Dimira under Roya's watchful eye and enters the western side-crypt. The central sarcophagus of this room has been disturbed, its lid lying broken on the ground in front of it, and the sarcophagus itself empty. The name "Asar Vergas" has been carved into the broken stone. A corpse dressed in black robes lies beside the sarcophagus, the stench of rot hanging heavy around it. Flipping the corpse over, Miron sees that the corpse is wearing an iron mask that fully covers its face.
A cursory glance of the corpse reveals a few more items of interest. First, there is a map of the region, similar to the one that you received from the mayor, with the roads leading to the Crypt marked. On the back of the map is a message scrawled in ink: "The amulets are entombed with Ekat Kassen and Asar Vergas." There is also a wand tucked into his belt, a pair of stylized copper wrist guards, a small horn (for playing, not drinking), a coin pouch with 354 newly minted gold coins, and a spellbook with many pages filled.
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Noticing that Perri is keeping away from the group, Conrad stands up to shake his hand. "D-Dramott will be p-proud," he comforts him. Perhaps the fighter is a bit dispirited from having gone down so quickly, especially since Brandark offered his compliments to Conrad alone.
Having rested up a bit, the barbarian goes to check on Dimira. He helps Roya prop her up carefully into a sitting position so she can drink from a waterskin. "C-Can you walk?" he asks. He's dying to ask her more questions about what happened, of course, but Dimira is clearly in no state to launch herself into a long story. "M-Maybe you should eat a b-bit," he offers her some food from his own rations.
Once Dimira has stabilized a bit in Roya's care, Conrad's attention is drawn to the robed man Miron found besides a sarcophagus. As he approaches, the smell is enough to inform him that the man is beyond help. Still, he notices his strange mask. "That d-doesn't look like something from K-Kassen." He takes off the man's mask so he can see his face.
While the others are busy checking the rest of the chamber, Roya was entirely focused on Dimira, and the wounds of her comrades.
Seeing how many were still wounded and Dimira just barely up again, she asks Erastil for healing twice more, and seeing the service they had provided to their community, old deadeye seems to grant his favor gladly.
Roya then fetches the Lantern, and lights it from the Everflame, providing a bit more light without renewing her light cantrip.
Then, the moment she feels that Dimira is feeling well enough to sit, and after she had some water, Roya launches herself at the woman and hugs her. All the tension of the past hours seems to melt, streaming out in silent tears from her eyes.
"I...I thought everybody was dead. I am so glad we found you. Your brother managed to barricade himself in, but there was nothing he could do alone and it broke his spirit. We always pushed on, hoping against hope that we could rescue someone from whatever happened here..."
Roya was forced to grow up fast, she was used to responsibility, to acting more grown-up than she was. But right now, she was just a child that wanted to be held after the ordeal they went through. Just a few minutes, but she needed this...
(Miron points out the magical gear)
"This is Asar's coffin." Miron says to Conrad, looking at the sarcophagus. "I guess they must have put him in here too?" he wonders, once again wishing he'd listened more to the town's history. "Did this guy try to raise him or something? Why would he do that?"
Looking at the stranger's map, "It says something about amulets, but Asar wasn't wearing one." He peers into the Asar's sarcophagus to see if if there's any trace of it.
Perri smiles faintly at Conrad and nods his thanks. Then Conrad and Roya help Dimira up, and the latter gratefully accepts the offered waterskin. She drinks deeply and nods weakly at Conrad's question of whether she can walk. When told she should eat, she stops gulping and draws in a deep gasp. Good idea," she pants. "Drinking too fast," gasp, "even water," gasp, "can make you sick." She tears into the ration and rallies enough for Conrad to leave her with Roya.
Looking into Asar's sarcophagus, Miron sees a few golden links of a necklace. He hadn't paid attention to the broken golden chain around Asar's chainmail since it hadn't detected as magical. But these links definitely matched that chain as well. Thinking on it, the sorcerer remembers recalls that several of the others noticed that, in a mural above, both Kassen and this Asar were wearing remarkably similar amulets. He's a bit too focused on making this connection to pay much attention to the masked man on the floor.
Whether Conrad had seen many dead bodies before this outing or not, it's an experience that leaves an impression. Before he removes the iron mask, he notices green and blue bruises and striations about the man's neck, which he assumes are a sign of strangulation. Then the mask comes off. The face would be unfamiliar even if it wasn't bloated like those of the zombies in the other room. But especially with the small size of Kassen and having been a lifelong resident, this is not someone the young man recognizes, not even if he squints.
Meanwhile back at the dais, Dimira wraps her arms around the young Erastilian acolyte. "Roldare's alive?" she says, her own tears choking in her throat. With the exception of Brandark (who is quite young for a dwarf), she's the oldest person in the room--but she's barely old enough to be Roya's mom. Though she might not feel like a child needing to be held, she wraps Roya up and lets her cry her silent tears. Roya's hair glistens from Dimira's tears. "Thank Erastil for you, Roya."
As everyone processes the events in their own way, Dimira eventually coaxes Roya out from the hug and wipes at her own face with a ruined sleeve. "You should light it," she encourages the acolyte.
And so Roya retrieves the Everflame Lantern to the Everflame. As she does so, the lantern flickers with blue and golden flame, as though the lantern is resonating specifically with this flame.
A moment later, the ghost of a stout, older, bearded man appears over the open sarcophagus and regards the gathered people before him. The face is similar to that of the wood golem that the party fought on the first floor, though older.
"Brave heroes," the spirit begins, voice echoing gently in the chamber, "Thank you for putting an end to Asar's terror. I am proud to see that the youth of my town still grow up strong. I am Ekat Kassen."
Dimira looks agog, awestruck at what she sees in front of her. It's clear that she had not expected this to happen.
Ekat Kassen nods solemnly at the heroes in front of him. "I suppose you may have questions. I will help you as I can."
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Conrad's initial disgust at the sight of the half-rotten corpse is quickly replaced with curiosity as he spots the deep markings on the neck. None of the other bodies he's seen so far had died from strangulation -and why would he have been choked to death in an underground crypt filled with armed skeletons? How strange.
Something's not right. Something doesn't fit within the puzzle. But as he straightens back up to call for Roya, he spots a ghostly mist gathering above an open sarcophagus. It becomes a silhouette.
"LOOK OUT!" he shouts, and instinctively draws his flail, rushing over to Roya and Dimira... But it becomes evident pretty soon that his concerns were in vain.
There's a moment of stunned silence as Ekat Kassen appears, and Conrad stares at him, dumbstruck, for several seconds, before he finally thinks of lowering his weapon. "S-sorry," he stammers awkwardly, relaxing his defensive posture.
He doesn't really dare to add another word, and turns around in hopes that someone else will volunteer. But it looks like everyone is just as surprised as he is. He forces his attention back on Kassen. "How d-do we know it's really you?" he finally blurts out. Then adds hurriedly: "N-no offense."
The ghost of Kassen floats gently in the air and regards the frightened, defensive barbarian before him. The ghost looks thoughtful before he answers, his ghostly hand fiddling with the amulet around his neck. "I suppose you don't. Faith, perhaps, if you have it."
The end comes swiftly and Joras' bold song dies with it. Joras stares around dumbly as the full weight of the situation falls on him. As Miron approachs the body Joras goes with him and tries to understand what's happened.
At the appearance of the spirit the claims to be Ekat Kassen Joras is stunned but wary.
Does the spirit look as Ekat is suppose to?
Ekat's been dead for over a century, should his soul moved on long ago or not?
Joras mutters a quiet prayer to Shelyn to guide him in the weird encounter.