Zephira pulls the reins back on her pony to come to a dead stop. She reluctantly turns her steed and trots back to the group.
"Poor Alexandria. I hope they don't eat her."
Zeph looks down in sadness. She follows behind the group on her pony through the woods in a despondent mood for much of the day.
"Who the hell said she's dead? The bird grabbed her, but until I've seen her cold dead body..." Arrock hops up onto his own horse and begins riding in the direction the ogre flew. He calls back over his shoulder, "One thing I can tell you people. She bled red, not yellow."
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Zephira breaks her silence after sulking most of the journey after Alexandria's unfortunate incident.
"She looked dead when she was carried off in the talons of the huge eagle. Let's hope she was mostly dead.
There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive."
Shawn glances at Algrim and agrees. "Shale indeed, if it means what I think it does. Let's get moving. We've gotta hag to find so we can help her make stew. We're doing nothing but delaying here. Those that want to chase after the bird.... Well, maybe they can catch up. The horses can move a bit faster than this wagon."
"Well, this is a right mess -- we clearly shouldn't have tried to fight the flying brute, but we need to do something now, or they're going to feed the flame haired warrior to their giant insectile guard dog. If we had just given them a horse or run, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I'm not used to such rash action in my professional life -- I hope in the future we can all approach such situations with greater caution. I fear our quest will end in failure if we approach all obstacles with such obvious and blunt methods."
Zephira raises an eyebrow.
"How do you know they have...
a giant insectile guard dog?"
Zephira raises an eyebrow.
"How do you know they have...a giant insectile guard dog?"
And look here thar ye - yeez can't go buy here thar from here thar to there over yonder thar unless ye give us somethin tastey for tha' ole boy -- ya know ole Killerz be a big bug but see here thar he got feelins though, and is sure hankering for a good meal this last fortnight here thar -- and one of ye must feed him, and you all there must pick one of yuz or a horse to give up to the old boy Killerz Slaeryz so his tummy don't be rumblin no more and he not be making a racket at night so me and Thunderclap here and mah bruh Terug can sleep when tha' sun goes down under tha' hillz here thar, ya ken?"
Luke looks at Zephira with a puzzled expression, "Did you not hear the brute mention it 5 minutes ago while he was addressing us from his aerial steed.?"
Algrim flicked his wrist and the reigns snapped directing the horses pulling the cart forward, ”Aye, discussion gathers no gems.”
Algrim flicked his wrist and the reigns snapped directing the horses pulling the cart forward, ”Aye, discussion gathers no gems.”
Luke nods, "As long as we're all in agreement -- we can continue to Ruwilla's hut."
Shawn hears Luke's words and turns to him. "If Alexandria's not already dead she will be before we could get to where that bird and ogre are flying. And trying to follow them to rescue her is going to take time that we don't have and risk the deaths of several more of us. The ogre decided not to continue the fight, we should accept the chance that we were given and continue our contract." He tenses up for the moment that Algrim starts the wagon moving.
"If our next encounter takes me, don't risk the job and war with the bugbears to rescue me."
”Aye, for me too,” the dwarf nodded in agreement. The clopping of the horses hooves and creaking of the wagon’s wheels are the only noises heard for a few minutes before Algrim offered, ”Let me be telling ye of stories of dwarven ale so strong your grandchildren will be born drunk.”
”Aye, for me too,” the dwarf nodded in agreement. The clopping of the horses hooves and creaking of the wagon’s wheels are the only noises heard for a few minutes before Algrim offered, ”Let me be telling ye of stories of dwarven ale so strong your grandchildren will be born drunk.”
Luke's right eyebrow arches in an exceptionally pointed curve at the Dwarf's offer. "That sounds... positively alarming."/b] He seems to consider the matter, pursing his lips and rubbing his chin with his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers, [b]"but, yes, please do regale us with your tales. I shall, in turn, describe poisons so deadly that merely a drop on the skin was sufficient to kill a grown man. I have had much dealings with such matters in my... particular line of work."
The small group of adventurers on horseback had been making their way through the dark forest for hours, the only light coming from the dim glow of the sun above. The horses' hooves thudded against the dirt path as the group pushed on, determined to reach their destination. But as they rounded a bend in the path, they found themselves at a crossroads. The path split off in two directions, one leading deeper into the forest, the other, slightly overgrown, seemed to be leading in the direction of the mountains. The group came to a stop, unsure of which way to go.
Then, then recall the words of the Duke's emissary which he shared at the town hall when had explained the map of the local area to them:
....
Jelmark points at the map -- "You see these two large lakes here? Those are the Lake of the Evening Mist and the Lake of the Morning Mist -- they are collectively known as the Mistlakes, and are the largest body of water in the Duchy of Mulcrow. North of the Mistlakes," he moves his finger to a point a bit above the northern border of the lakes, "is Griffondale and the Summerdales, a region of small townships and fields which form the central agricultural region of the Grandy Duchy. The northern border of the Summerdales," again he moves his finger upwards, "is the Blacktalon Forest. This forbidding woodland forms the northern portion of the Duchy and also separates it from the other kingdoms of the continent. Rudwilla's hut is located on the southern periphery of the Blacktalon Forest. Beware, there are stories of ogres and other foul creatures dwelling within the forest. I have also heard travelers say that they have encountered insects of unusual size, dire wolves, and other large bears and other creatures from legend that are rumored to live in greater numbers in the far north. The roads that wind through the Blacktalon Forest are few and treacherous, potentially subject to the predations of bandits or the fearful creatures I have just mentioned."
Jelmark moves his finger to the right side of the map, which indicates the east, "Those are the Rockforge Mountains, whose massive heights form the eastern border of the Duchy. The highest mountains of the Rockforges are almost 45,000 ft. high -- you may find it necessary to investigate means of accommodating yourselves to the thin air in the heights -- the bugbear clans live in the upper half of the elevation of the mountains. One reason they have proven so intractable to our offensives is that it is very difficult for the Duke's forces to operate in such extreme conditions. Moving a large expeditionary force through the Rockforges is almost impossible."
Jelmark returns his finger to the mark labeled 'Griffondale' and moves his finger between this point and that which he had indicated stands for Rudwilla's hut, deep within the fearsome confines of the Blacktalon Forest, "As you leave Griffondale, you must take the northern road -- known as the Duke's Road, into the depths of the Blacktalon Forest. You will travel through the forest for about half a day until you get to an intersection of three roads. Take the right fork, and you will come to Rudwilla's hut within a few hours, hopefully before nightfall. However, the instructions I have just given you assume you are all riding as fast as possible on good horses. I would advise you to procure those, or some means of travel faster than marching on foot in order to fulfill the mission I have outlined within the two week window."
...
As they set off on the new path, the horses' hooves crunching on the overgrown trail, the group couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. The darkness seemed to press in around them, making it hard to see very far ahead. But they pushed on, following the faint trail, determined to reach their destination. The path was narrow and winding, the trees closed in around them and the horses had to be lead carefully to avoid roots and low hanging branches. The group moved cautiously but steadily, scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger or habitation. As the small group of adventurers on horseback made their way through the dark forest, they began to notice a change in the landscape around them. The trees grew more widely spaced, and the ground became rocky and uneven. Suddenly, they rounded a bend in the path, and found themselves in a clearing.
In the center of the clearing stood a domed stone building, its walls weathered and moss-covered. The building was nestled in the middle of a glen, surrounded by tall trees that seemed to reach up to the sky. The dome of the building was made of a dark stone, and it had several small windows that let in a faint light. The entrance was a large wooden door that appeared to be old and worn. The group dismounted from their horses and approached the building cautiously. They could see that the walls of the building were thick and made of ancient stone. The door was made of heavy wood and had a large iron ring for a handle. They noticed that the door was slightly ajar, and a faint light was coming from within...
Algrim approached the heavy wooden door with some trepidation and whispered, ”I don’t know if I would be calling this a hut.” Before knocking or barging in he tried to peek through the opening of the door.
Algrim approached the heavy wooden door with some trepidation and whispered, ”I don’t know if I would be calling this a hut.” Before knocking or barging in he tried to peek through the opening of the door.
As the dwarf cautiously approached the door to the strange domed structure, he heard an unearthly groaning issue forth from behind the portal...
Seeing the door slightly open Shawn casts his light orison on the tip of his staff as he approaches the door. "This doesn't look good. Something might have attacked. Everyone ready to enter?"
Unless someone directs otherwise Shawn uses his staff to open the door and leads with the glowing tip.
Seeing the door slightly open Shawn casts his light orison on the tip of his staff as he approaches the door. "This doesn't look good. Something might have attacked. Everyone ready to enter?"
Unless someone directs otherwise Shawn uses his staff to open the door and leads with the glowing tip.
As Shawn opens the ponderous door, the portal creaks ominously on a set of in inordinately aged, squeaky, and thoroughly rusted hinges. Beyond is a small antechamber, a kind of foyer, and another, companion door on the other end of the hall. Between the outer and inner entrance stand four entities wrapped in some kind of funereal bindings, all of which drip some species of caustic slime from their shambling forms. They are currently engaged with pawing unsuccessfully at the inner door, but turn in unison as the outer portal opens. They groan together and begin to shamble towards Shawn. He has only a second to close the door again or be faced with a melee contest with whatever fell creatures these might be...
The dwarf takes one look at the shambling creatures and jumps past Shawn to close the door.
The dwarf takes one look at the shambling creatures and jumps past Shawn to close the door.
[dice=K. Religion]1d20+8
A bog body or swamp mummy is a human cadaver that has been naturally mummified in a peat bog. Such bodies, sometimes known as bog people, are both geographically and chronologically widespread. The unifying factor of the bog bodies is that they have been found in peat and are partially preserved; however, the actual levels of preservation vary widely from perfectly preserved to mere skeletons. Unlike most ancient remains, bog bodies often retain their skin and internal organs due to the unusual conditions of the surrounding area. Combined, highly acidic water, low temperature, and a lack of oxygen preserve but severely tan their skin. While the skin is well-preserved, the bones are generally not, due to the dissolution of the calcium phosphate of bone by the peat's acidity. The acidic conditions of these bogs allow for the preservation of materials such as skin, hair, nails, wool and leather which all contain the protein keratin. For ancient peoples, the bogs held some sort of liminal significance, and indeed, they placed into them votive offerings intended for the Otherworld, often of neck-rings, wristlets or ankle-rings made of bronze or more rarely gold. It is widely speculated that the swamp mummies were thrown into the bog for similar reasons, and that they were therefore examples of human sacrifice to the gods.
Strangled into unlife in the filth and muck of the deep mire, swamp mummies haunt the festering depths of isolated, desolate fenlands. Some swamp mummies are cursed by dark powers to return to unlife, while others are the victims of sacrifices or criminal executions in which the bodies were thrown into a peat bog. The nature of the death and the emotional power of the victim are both contributing factors as to whether or not the victim crawls from its swampy grave as a swamp mummy. Swamp mummies—also often called bog or peat mummies—rarely, if ever, leave their marshy realms. Those that do most often venture forth from the swamp to take revenge on their slayers. While most swamp mummies are motivated by vengeance, many fulfill these dark yearnings in a more general sense. Filled with wrath and hatred for the living, they mercilessly attack any living creatures that dare to venture into their dismal domains. Their agonized moans echo over their putrid homes, driving away the natural animals dwelling therein and often alerting travelers to the relentless danger. Swamp mummies delight in infecting living foes with bog rot, believing that adding their victims’ essence to their gloomy domains expands their power. After battle, they carry away the bodies of their fallen victims to sink them in deep, isolated pools. Thus, even enemies that escape the bog rot become one with the swamp mummy’s home. Most swamp mummies are Medium humanoids, typically arising from the submerged corpses of human, lizardfolk, or elven victims—though instances of swamp mummies arising from the corpses of other races is not unknown.
Shawn is quite glad to have Algrim jump in front of him to slam the door shut. He considers what he knows of undead, and comes up with nothing useful. "What sort of zombies were those? And what do we do now? If those things have killed the hag there won't be any stew for the bugbears. Do we head back to town and tell Jelmark and the Duke to prepare for war?"
He glances to either side and starts to circle the building. "Maybe there's another way in? And maybe those things didn't get past the entryway. With luck Rudwilla's in a safer room and just needs help escaping!"
The dwarf takes one look at the shambling creatures and jumps past Shawn to close the door.
[dice=K. Religion]1d20+8
"I vote we keep it closed myself," quips Luke, "and maybe go ahead and find a helpful wizard to cast flake strike and really blow this place up from orbit." He looks reflectively off and then frowns and says seriously, "It's the only way to be sure." Shawn and Algrim both have a peculiar feeling they've heard something like this turn of phrase before... in another time... in another place...
The dwarf gives a shake o his head and grips his hammer a little tighter as he related the information about these creatures, ”Those shambling creatures be called swamp mummies. Might be worth a try to lure them out and have one of us get their attention while the rest of us get into the structure.” He vaguely waves his hammer menacingly, “”Or send them back to the grave.”
Shawn pauses and glances back at Luke. "Orbit? But good luck finding a powerful and helpful wizard. I think we'll have to handle this one."
He continues walking to check the whole building. "If there's another way in I'm for trying that. If not, maybe we could create a wedge to keep the door from opening fully? Then we could stand back and hit them with missiles as they try to force their way out?" He pauses for a moment and directs a question at Algrim since the man recognized the monsters. "Do missiles, arrows and such, harm them? I remember hearing that some undead have to be bashed apart and some chopped apart. I've got a couple daggers for slashing, my longbow and my staff. And I can use magic to hit them with small splashes of acid. If we have to put them back in the dirt I just want to be using the right weapon!"
Shawn pauses and glances back at Luke. "Orbit? But good luck finding a powerful and helpful wizard. I think we'll have to handle this one."
He continues walking to check the whole building. "If there's another way in I'm for trying that. If not, maybe we could create a wedge to keep the door from opening fully? Then we could stand back and hit them with missiles as they try to force their way out?" He pauses for a moment and directs a question at Algrim since the man recognized the monsters. "Do missiles, arrows and such, harm them? I remember hearing that some undead have to be bashed apart and some chopped apart. I've got a couple daggers for slashing, my longbow and my staff. And I can use magic to hit them with small splashes of acid. If we have to put them back in the dirt I just want to be using the right weapon!"
"Well, let me tell you, Sir Ashler, that if we open that door again, I'm backing up quite a bit -- I don't want to risk getting bit by those things. I've heard they can have gangrenous teeth and nails that cause virulent infections in the wounds of their victims, even if they're lucky enough to get away -- that that'll kill you just as dead as being eaten alive by the unliving."
Hey what's this?" Luke points out a small note on the door, which reads, in slightly haphazard letters, "STAY OUT!"
The structure has windows with stained glass set into the second story tier level of the building, near the beginning of the domed roof. It might be possible to climb up and break one of the windows. There are no other evident doors.
#1 Vulnerability to cold
#2 Resistance to fire (Resist fire 10)
#3 Mummy Rot (Su)
Mummy Rot: curse and disease—slam; save Fort DC 16; onset 1 minute; frequency 1/day; effect 1d6 Con and 1d6 Cha; cure —.
Mummy rot is both a curse and disease and can only be cured if the curse is first removed, at which point the disease can be magically removed. Even after the curse element of mummy rot is lifted, a creature suffering from it cannot recover naturally over time. Anyone casting a conjuration (healing) spell on the afflicted creature must succeed on a DC 20 caster level check, or the spell is wasted and the healing has no effect. Anyone who dies from mummy rot turns to dust and cannot be raised without a resurrection or greater magic. The save DC is Charisma-based.
The dwarf stroked his beard and informed his companions, ”These creatures be vulnerable to cold but fire don’t hurt them as much. Also, if they be touching you ye can be diseased.”
He akes, ”Does anyone have a bit of rope. The windows might be our best bet.”
"I don't have any rope.:
"Well, Luke doesn't want to be anywhere near the undead and I agree. Not sure I even want to be inside the building if they are here.... But what about my other idea? I've got a longbow and twenty arrows, and I can cast the mage cantrip Acid Splash. The cantrip is for short range but the longbow is good at a pretty good range. Whoever doesn't have missiles can drive the wagon and the other two ride the back shooting at the monsters as the wagon rolls away, just keeping ahead of them far enough that they can't attack."
Algrim paced a bit as he thought through Shawn’s plan, ”Aye, it could work but shooting from a moving cart could be tricksy. I be trusting me hammer over me bow most days. However we seem to be in a bit of a pickle so it’s worth a go.”
"I don't have any rope.:
"Well, Luke doesn't want to be anywhere near the undead and I agree. Not sure I even want to be inside the building if they are here.... But what about my other idea? I've got a longbow and twenty arrows, and I can cast the mage cantrip Acid Splash. The cantrip is for short range but the longbow is good at a pretty good range. Whoever doesn't have missiles can drive the wagon and the other two ride the back shooting at the monsters as the wagon rolls away, just keeping ahead of them far enough that they can't attack."
"I can furnish you a rope."
He turns to Algrim, "I agree with your plan, dwarf -- we should at least climb up and see what can be detected from that vantage before trying to force our way through the undead."
”Alright, Luke why don’t you shimmy up there and let us know what ye be seeing,” the dwarf directs. ”If this don’t be playing out how we think then we can try our hand at archery and wagon racing.”
Shawn looks up at the window and slowly nods acceptance. "I hope one of you is a climber. I'm not. But I can hold the other end of the rope on the other side of the building, if it's long enough."
Shawn looks up at the window and slowly nods acceptance. "I hope one of you is a climber. I'm not. But I can hold the other end of the rope on the other side of the building, if it's long enough."
"Not a problem," quips the mysterious blonde man, "I'll be right back." Luke begins to expertly scale the wall... almost as if he's... done something like this... many, many times before...
Then, Luke suddenly loses his balance on the slippery stone and goes hurling to the ground, slightly bruising himself as he falls.
His pride as well as his bottom hurt, he tries again,
And falls again
Then, his pride thoroughly injured, he tries yet again, this time going much slower,
Luke finally manages to surmount the second story and peer through the stained glass. He exclaims,
"Hey there's an old lady and a young woman in there -- I wonder if the old one is the very same Rudwilla we are seeking?"
He begins to tap on the glass,
"Hey there, are you both all right? There's some kind of mummies gathered in your front hall here."
The muffled sound that replies to Luke seems to reflect that the inhabitants of the strange structure are indeed aware of the strange undead lurking right outside the door to the inner rooms.
After hearing Luke’s report the dwarf shrugged, ”Looks like we be having to deal with these creatures. Sean’s plan be sound and I can be driving the cart.”
After hearing Luke’s report the dwarf shrugged, ”Looks like we be having to deal with these creatures. Sean’s plan be sound and I can be driving the cart.”
"What if we just hand a rope down to Rudwilla and her apprentice -- we can get them out without having to deal with the mummies."
Luke turns back to muffled voice from within, "What's that then?"
He listens for a moment, then turns again to Algrim,
"Rudwilla says she wouldn't advise getting too near to the mummies and that she's happy to try to climb out or just communicate through the window. She says her apprentice had a horrible fright that seemed like something more than ordinary jitters from encountering them, and the witch thinks the mummies might have some kind of supernatural ability to induce fear."
If she saw your climbing abilities she might not be that enthusiastic about climbing out, the dwarf brooded. He took a second and responded, ”If they be willing to climb out, so be it.”
If she saw your climbing abilities she might not be that enthusiastic about climbing out, the dwarf brooded. He took a second and responded, ”If they be willing to climb out, so be it.”
"Rudwilla is suggesting we can pick up a local cleric in the nearby village of Hartgrove that's up the left fork where we turned to go to her hut at the lake. If we can go get Eislar Haman, priest of the Light, and bring him back here, that may be the best approach. It won't take long to get to the village -- also, it occurs to me we should perhaps arrange for some additional muscle for the next leg of this expedition. Maybe we kind find some enterprising travelers or local mercenaries to assist us in our quest?"
Aye, let’s fetch this Vicar and see if we can hire anyone to replace the oath breakers who ran off,” the dwarf agreed and got the cart ready for travel. ”Are ye gonna stay up on the roof or will ye be coming with?”
Aye, let’s fetch this Vicar and see if we can hire anyone to replace the oath breakers who ran off,” the dwarf agreed and got the cart ready for travel. ”Are ye gonna stay up on the roof or will ye be coming with?”
"Oh, I fully intend to join you -- I think I may need to find some additional... associates to assist me with the carrying out of my... chosen trade."
Luke gazes down hesitantly, then slowly makes his way back to terra firma.
The strange man seems immediately more comfortable now that he is walking on the soft ground again.
"Well," he gestures with his right hand in a demonstrative sign, pointing with his outstretched palm towards the road, "there's no time like the present, and the trip to Hartgrove shouldn't take us too long if the old lady's true to her word."
The dwarf clambered up onto the cart, waits for Shawn to get on, and gives a light flick of the reins, ”Get a move on ye stubborn beasts.”
Shawn glances at the door to the building,but is fine with getting a professional that can better handle the undead. He gets back in the wagon and relaxes. "Off to Hartgrove then. Hopefully we'll be able to get that stew made and to where it needs to go, in time."
The dwarf acknowledged Shawn’s concern with a nod and flicked the reigns again to encourage the draft horses to move a bit faster.
The adventuring party makes their way through the dense forest, following a narrow path that winds its way deeper into the heart of the Black Talon Forest. The canopy overhead blocks out much of the sunlight, casting the path in a dappled, eerie light. The party members move cautiously, their weapons at the ready, as they know that the forest is home to all manner of dangerous creatures. As they round a bend in the path, the town of Hartgrove comes into view. At first, the adventurers are taken aback by the sight of the crumbling wooden buildings and overgrown market square. But their attention is quickly drawn to the magnificent temple of the Light at the center of the town. Its walls gleam in the sunlight, and the stained glass windows sparkle like diamonds.
Hartgrove is a small, isolated town situated in the heart of the Black Talon Forest. Despite its idyllic setting, surrounded by towering trees and lush greenery, the town has a palpable air of decay and neglect. At the center of Hartgrove stands a temple of the Light, a grand structure of gleaming white stone and stained glass windows. The temple serves as a beacon of hope and comfort to the town's residents, many of whom have lived in Hartgrove for generations. However, even this once-proud building has begun to show signs of wear and tear, with cracks spidering across its walls and vines creeping up its columns. Beyond the temple, the rest of Hartgrove is a jumbled collection of wooden buildings and cobblestone streets, all in varying states of disrepair. Roofs are missing tiles, shutters hang askew, and the once-lively market square is now a quiet, overgrown space. The town's residents move about their daily business with downcast expressions, as if they've given up hope for Hartgrove's future. Just outside of town, looming in the shadows of the forest, is a ruined keep. Its walls are crumbled and its once-impressive towers have long since fallen, leaving behind only a shell of what it once was. Despite its dilapidated state, the keep remains an imposing presence, and the townspeople speak of it in hushed tones, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and reverence. Some say that the keep is haunted by the ghosts of long-dead warriors, while others claim that it is the home of powerful sorcerers who wield dark magic. As Hartgrove slowly crumbles, the temple of the Light stands as a symbol of the town's once-great spirit, a reminder of a time when Hartgrove was a thriving community. Though the town may never return to its former glory, the people of Hartgrove cling to the hope that the temple will endure, a steadfast beacon of light in an otherwise fading world.
As they ride into the town Shawn is immediately concerned. The town, and even the temple show obvious signs of need. How could they find help here? Was their mission doomed to failure?
"I hope we can convince the Vicar Haman to leave these people for the short ride to Rudwilla's hut. Let's just go straight to the temple and explain the danger. Maybe they know her?"
As they ride into the town Shawn is immediately concerned. The town, and even the temple show obvious signs of need. How could they find help here? Was their mission doomed to failure?
"I hope we can convince the Vicar Haman to leave these people for the short ride to Rudwilla's hut. Let's just go straight to the temple and explain the danger. Maybe they know her?"
Luke surveys the mostly depressing visage from the partial concealment provided by the hood his voluminous, black cloak. His lips are joined in a slight grimace.
"I can but concur. "
”Aye, to the temple.”
As the adventurers approach the dilapidated temple of light, they can see that it has seen better days. The once-beautiful stone façade is now covered in vines and cracks, and the roof has caved in in several places. Despite its state of disrepair, the temple still exudes a sense of peace and serenity. They push open the heavy wooden doors, which creak loudly on their hinges, and step inside. The air inside the temple is musty and still, and the only sound the adventurers can hear is the echo of their footsteps as they ring through the empty space. They find themselves in a large central chamber, with columns that rise up towards the sky and a dome overhead that has partially collapsed. Streams of light filter through the gaps in the roof, casting patterns on the floor and walls. The walls of the chamber are adorned with intricate carvings and paintings, many of which have been worn away by time and the elements.
As the adventurers enter the temple of light, a white robed priest greets you with a warm smile. He has kind eyes that twinkle with a gentle light, and a peaceful aura emanates from him. The priest's robes are simple and unadorned, but they are spotlessly clean and seem to glow in the soft light of the temple. The priest greets the visitors with a gentle nod and a small bow, his hands held together in a gesture of peace. His voice is soft and melodic as he speaks, and the adventurers can tell that he is a person of great wisdom and compassion.
"Welcome, travelers," the priest says. "It is a joy to see new faces in our temple. May the Light of the Divine guide you and bring peace to your hearts."
As the adventurers stand before the priest, they can't help but feel a sense of calm and comfort. His presence is comforting, and they can tell that he is a person of great spiritual strength. They can sense that he is here to offer guidance and support to all those who seek it, and they feel grateful for his presence.
The priest then gestures for you to follow him, and he leads you deeper into the temple, pointing out various features and explaining the history and significance of the temple to you. You can tell that he is passionate about the temple and its role in bringing light and peace to the world.
The dwarf cleared his throat, ”Arhmm, no disrespect Vicar but if ye be Eislar Haman we be needing ye assistance right quick. You see Misress Rudwilla and her assistant are trapped in her dwelling by some bog mummies and could use ye divine power to cleanse the world of their foul taint.”