The sphinx takes her time strolling through the graveyard. She stops to examine some of the more interesting-looking graves, seeing which languages she recognizes and which she does not. She also looks for any patterns she can discern in their placement--are those from the same world, based on the langauges on the markers, placed close together? Or does it seem random?
"Sooo....don't die. Got it." Edér finally says after a long pause. "I would say we're good at that, but there's, uh, evidence to the contrary."
Bronwyn can't think about all this right now. She just can't. "Thank you for all your help. I think we'll be going now," she says almost automatically as she turns towards the Pale Sun. She needs a task to focus on right now, and getting to this city the Weeping Widow mentioned is as good a start as any.
"We'll talk to you later?" Edér moves in front of her, same as he always does when they're in formation, and Bronwyn claps her hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She can see through him. She can see through him.
She'd almost forgotten how her hands passed through his. Given they were both dead it hadn't seemed odd at the time. But if they're not both dead, if she's somehow sort of alive again...what does that mean for Edér?
"I thought we were headin' out?" Edér looks back and immediately stops walking. "What's wrong?"
Bronwyn shakes her head. "I'm sorry. One last question. This 'Hollowing,' it's not, he's not..." She takes a deep breath and tries again. "Is he going to be okay?"
Am I going to lose him too?
If people have been appearing here for as long as she says than they're bound to have answers.
Do you know where I could find other people? A nearby city or town?
”Would it be correct to say that you are the Guardian of this Dominion?”
The Widow shakes her head, "Limbo is... special. It has no Guardian, although my brethren in the Black Circle perform many of the same functions."
”Thank you for your candor and your counsel, Lady. I appreciate it. If I can ever be of service to you, please call on me.”
"It is the least I could do for you, child, and I require no recompense for it. I can only pray that you make the most of this new life here on Kisarta, such as it is. Until next we meet, as the whims of Fate dictate." With that, she bows her head ever so slightly to you and her form dissipates into a black mist that fades into nothingness.
As you search the environment for threats and a more trodden path to walk on your way to Limbo, nothing can be seen. It's as if the cemetery itself is as dead as its inhabitants should be until your eyes alight on a most curious sight: a sphinx appears to be making it's way towards the city, stopping on occasion to look around.
The tombstones vary widely in size and shape and the names etched into them are written in a multitude of different languages, many from Golarion and others that look completely alien to your eyes. They seem haphazardly arranged and do not seem to follow any particular grouping mechanism that your mind can discern.
One particular tombstone, however, manages to catch your eye. It is engraved in the Common of your homeland and bears the inscription, 'Here lies Shadya, Beloved Daughter of Queen Shielseis'. The grave itself is empty like all the others, but the soil seems ever so slightly freshly-upturned in comparison.
She turns and looks at Eder, "Do not think that you are a burden for her though, child, for you possess some power yet and may protect her even as she endeavors to protect you both."
Rahlmaat notes the haphazard arrangement of the cemetary as she makes her slow way forward, thinking it indicates the arrivals are truly random, not guided by any intelligence or plan. She supposes it's possible that a pattern will emerge after longer observation, but while she doesn't plan on ceasing looking she doesn't think it likely.
She does note the variety of tongues represented. Clearly this place pulls from many worlds.
One grave stops her, the Taldane inscription catching her eye. She settles back on her hind legs as she tries to place the name.
"Shadya... Queen Shielseis..." she murmurs to herself. The name is familiar, but she can't place why. No doubt she once knew, but the memory now is either lost to her or buried somewhere in the chaotic jumble in her mind.
How... frustrating. The sphinx surpresses a growl as she stands again and continues on.
Hunting or sight-seeing? It’s heading toward the city, so perhaps another newcomer?
Straehan matches the sphinx’s pace, paralleling the creature’s course, and moving to stay roughly 100’ away – close enough to be seen but not an obvious threat. If the sphinx clearly looks in his direction, the sorcerer offers a polite bow and a raised open hand, hopefully indicating his non-hostile intentions. Needless friends are better than needless enemies.
Turning towards the direction of the Pale Sun Kiya takes a step before pausing.
One last Question. Do you know how or why people end up here? She looks apprehensive. She does not expect to receive such knowledge so quickly but she sees little harm in asking.
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." Trust Edér to find the bright side of every situation. "Thanks again. Weeping Widow, if you ever need help you can ask us."
"You'll be able to find us easy enough. We tend to cause a lot of chaos wherever we go. The good kind, I mean. Mostly."
Bronwyn's lip twitches. "I doubt she'll have any problem finding us if she wants to." The Weeping Widow might claim to not be a goddess, but Bronwyn suspects she has a lot of the same abilities. Chances are if she ever wants to talk Bronwyn will just find herself staring into space for a few minutes.
Waving a final farewell Bronwyn turns towards the pale sun and begins to walk.
You keep your gaze fixed upon the sphinx. It seems distracted by a seemingly mundane tombstone and is gazing upon it intently. Although you can barely make it out, a mild look of frustration crosses the creature's feminine face, seemingly vexed by something written upon the tombstone.
"Thank you great lady, for your insight into my new life, and knowledge of this new world. Perhaps I'll see you again." Vol says, as he starts his journey toward Limbo.
Amn smiled and stared towards the pale sun. All she had to do was go... First she considered her new body, and how diminished her abilities might be. If she thought hard enough she remembered some spells; certainly not her most powerful magics. Enough to heal, yes, but nothing to bring the dead back -- if that was even a thing one could do here.
She hesitated a moment on that thought. "I... I don't think I have any power to do it anymore, but what happens when people die here? I used to be able to...well, you already know that. But what about getting hurt, and healing magic?"
The souls of those whose vessels perish wander for a time before forming a new vessel to inhabit at a place special to it here on Kisarta, but the loss of part of your soul will diminish your essence and take with it some of your remaining memories. If this happens too often, your soul will shatter and you will become one of the Hollowed, undead whose shattered soul becomes filled with Black Aether. If you perish again after that, your soul experiences the true oblivion of the Final Death, from which there is no return or reprieve."
"What looks like a man but flies like a bird? I suspect, in this case, it is a student of the arcane, yes?" Her voice rings out loud and clear in the graveyard. "Perhaps you would like to come down where we can speak more comfortably?"
Heh, an actual answer, even if it's an unsatisfying one. She could also be wrong. Or lying.
Well, thank you for your time but we'll be off. Kiya resumes walking towards the pale sun, Daisy following behind.
Do you think she was telling the truth?
Eh. Kiya gives her shoulders a slight shrug. Hopefully we can get some corroboration in this "Limbo City".
The man-bird pauses midflight, head cocked at the curious offer. He proffers the sphinx a polite bow with a raised open hand, indicating his lack of a weapon or (presumably) hostile intent. Descending toward the ground approximately 100’ from Rahlmaat, robes billowing, he replies, ”I’m a student of many things, madame. But, yes, the occult is certainly one of them.”
His feet hit the ground in a puff of grave dust and he begins to walk cautiously toward the sphinx. He says with a smile, ”The two more pressing questions - before I draw too close - are ‘Are you a vegetarian and are you hungry?’ I feel it only fair to warn you, I’m stringy and sinewy… an unpleasant hors d’oeuvre, at best.” His disarming wink says his questions are mostly playful.
As the spellslinger approaches, Rahlmaat might believe herself to have grown even larger in the last few minutes… But it is a brief illusion of scale as she sees that the plucky spellcaster is quite possibly the smallest human male she has ever seen, standing barely 5’2”. Like her, his skin is covered in symbols, glyphs, and (likely) phrases of power. But the clearly arcane symbols are based on a sacred geometry foreign to any that walk Golarion’s lands and the phrases are like no language (of the many) she has studied.
While he approaches and waits to see if this encounter ends with a pleasant conversation or an unpleasant lunch, Straehan regards the sphinx’s glyphs curiously.
Maybe in Limbo they'll be able to find a way back home.
Rahlmaat smiles broadly. "Not a scholar of sphinxes, then. Our needs for food match our desert home's bounty. You need not fear me if you give me no reason for wrath."
A gleam seems to enter her large eyes as she considers Straehan, curiosity and a desire for a second source of information welling up within her.
"Though perhaps we might share another hunger's filling together, for if you be a student, our greatest hungers may match. Whence and when come you? Came you hear but recently? And met you the Widow when you did?"
If the fiendish orc was at all startled by the ghostly lady dissolving away, he gave no outward indication. He merely nodded, and continued on his way.
Volgroruth had walked through many graveyards in his past, though perhaps none quite so massive as this one, so he was equally unbothered by all the gravestones and mausoleums. Still, he kept his axe at the ready, should any of the dead rise against him.
Rahlmaat smiles broadly. "Not a scholar of sphinxes, then. Our needs for food match our desert home's bounty. You need not fear me if you give me no reason for wrath."
The sorcerer matches her smile with a predatory grin of his own – with a few less incisors than Rahlmaat. ”I’ve met a couple sphinxes… sphinxae? sphunx? over the years. But I try to avoid assumptions about anyone’s diet. It’s a pity that wrath is your sticking point. I’m exceptionally good at earning people’s wrath. It’s a gift… which I’ll refrain from giving you.”
Finding her lack of assurances oddly reassuring, the little sorcerer continues to approach. ”It’s an honor to meet you, madam. I’m Straehan, or Strae, if you prefer.”
"Though perhaps we might share another hunger's filling together, for if you be a student, our greatest hungers may match. Whence and when come you? Came you hear but recently? And met you the Widow when you did?"
”I haven’t spoken with another scholar in years. I’d be delighted!” He launches into answering her questions, ”I’ve just arrived, still cleaning the grave dirt from my clothes and, yes, the Widow greeted me. I found her charming but sad.” Strae examines Rahlmaat’s markings again. He points to a series of hieroglyphs, ”If those are a language, then we are from different worlds… My world is called Miir. I have visited a few worlds – Amonkhet, Ürth, a couple others. From where do you come?”
He adds, ”If you haven’t stretched your wings yet, you might consider it. Go high enough and you will see Limbo… it’s quite a sight even this far away.”
As the man--Straehan--walks closer, he comes in range of Rahlmaat's more esoteric senses.
She notes his enchanted equipment... curious that the rebirth process recreated some of those, though she'd noticed it for herself as well. But what she does not see is any sort of translation magic.
"I am Rahlmaat, born on Golarion, but my wandering way has wended 'tween many worlds," she states. "Have you yet pondered why we two speak and are understood?"
Understanding was no surprise on her part--the magic enabling that was one thing that remained to her--but Straehan's understanding indicated something interesting was happening.
"I have not yet taken wing since winning free of my grave--an odd thing, that, for we sphinx have no custom of burial. Perhaps it is simply a response to how closely associated death is with such customs by the majority of souls coming here...?" The sphinx pauses a moment in thought, then shakes her head slightly.
"A thought for later. For now, I have preferred to take my time and observe more closely. Have you noted any patterns to this place from above?"
"I am Rahlmaat, born on Golarion, but my wandering way has wended 'tween many worlds,"
Strae smiles, ”A pleasure to meet you. I have visited your Golarion once - very briefly - and an ally of mine hailed from that world.”
"Have you yet pondered why we two speak and are understood?"
”I haven’t had a chance to think on it as you are the first ‘newcomer’ I’ve encountered. I wasn’t surprised that I understood the Widow given her role. It could be a large-scale magic or possibly a function of our unique position outside the known multiverses. The Widow mentioned this Dominion is ‘special’ among the seven… I’ll be curious to see if our ability to understand each other fails when we cross into one of the other Dominions.”
"Have you noted any patterns to this place from above?"
”No, just the scale of it all. There are hundreds of thousands, if not millions of graves in all directions. There are no paths to Limbo that I saw, despite the fact – according to the Widow – that all of us head in that direction sooner or later. Limbo itself, is likely scores or hundreds of miles from here. It was hard to estimate because the city is immense. I believe the external walls are as high as small mountains. The bounds of the city itself extend well beyond the limits of my sight. It is notable, but perhaps not significant, that the city is based on a ziggurat or a stepped pyramid in design. At the center of a city is a white spire that rises so high it pierces the clouds. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
"What cause had you to travel so widely?" the sphinx questions, before turning back to the graveyard.
"Infinity is a concept one encounters on the planes. Once beyond the realm of works of mortal hands, scale ceases to be so surprising. Still it seems this shall be our new home, so we should see it. Shall we?" Rahlmaat waves a paw in the direction of Limbo, as if inviting Straehan to go first.
Vol was beginning to enjoy the solitude and quiet of walking through the endless cemetery. It was very different from his former life as the leader of the loud, chaotic, frenzied Scourged Legion. It took him some time, but he was starting to appreciate the solace that was afforded him by the eerie stillness of the dead. He could maybe get used to this. Maybe.
You continue walking and the minutes blur into hours, stretching on and on until you near a large willow tree surrounded by tall monuments that obscure large portions of the cemetary. It is then that a noise breaks the deathly uniformity of your travels at last: the soft sound of footsteps. Could this be others who were transported to Kisarta as you were or some unknown threat?
"What cause had you to travel so widely?" the sphinx questions…
Straehan raises an eyebrow, ”I might ask you the same question. If the sages speak true, your people delight in questions. And from personal experience I know that questions beget quests which beget travel – either in search of answers or better questions." He chuckles. "Am I holding up a mirror for you?”
As it was rude to press a lady to answer a question she’d possibly rather avoid, Strae shares his own answer while she considers. ”I’ve traveled for many reasons across the face of Miir. But my interesting wanderings between worlds have largely been as an oft-unwilling piece on the chessboards of fickle Gods.”
He adds, ”There have been a few occasions when my travels were a result of blind luck, kind friends, or good karma. I visited your world in one such moment.”
"Still it seems this shall be our new home, so we should see it. Shall we?" Rahlmaat waves a paw in the direction of Limbo, as if inviting Straehan to go first.
The little sorcerer nods and begins walking beside the large sphinx. ”Since going back seems unlikely…” Especially given how the Widow avoided answering that question he amends silently, ”… then going forward seems our best path.”
As they walk through the vast graveyard, Strae quotes a sliver of a poem he half-remembered from a world he couldn't quite recall, ”The grave’s a fine and private place… But none, I think, do there embrace.”
Straehan raises an eyebrow, "I might ask you the same question. If the sages speak true, your people delight in questions. And from personal experience I know that questions beget quests which beget travel – either in search of answers or better questions." He chuckles. "Am I holding up a mirror for you?”
Rahlmaat turns her head and looks down at Straehan. Her smile has a keen edge to it. "Tell me, human, if I were to believe of you all that sages say about your species, how much of it would be true?"
She pauses to let him respond, but after a while admits, "I have traveled wide in search of answers and questions both. True riddles I seek, not the toy-riddles which so many scholars think we sphinxes favor."
The little sorcerer nods and begins walking beside the large sphinx. "Since going back seems unlikely…” Especially given how the Widow avoided answering that question he amends silently, "… then going forward seems our best path.”
"'Going back' is an illusion at best. No being or place stays still. But yes, I think there shall be no return to whence we came from this place, else I would have learned of it before. For that matter, how long do you think it has been on the world of your birth since your death? I should not be surprised to find that it took long centuries for what remains of us to arrive in this place, if not longer. For all we know, there is nowhere left to go back to."
She sweeps her left wing into the air briefly, as if brushing something away. "Best, I think, to spare no worry for the past. Though it is a pity so few monuments bear dates. I would be curious to see if there was a pattern in time."
The sphinx pauses a moment. "I wonder how they measure time here? With dead from so many worlds, and a sun so strange, there must have been many possibilities..."
Bronwyn looks at Edér. Edér looks at Bronwyn. Without a word spoken they fall into a familiar pattern. First Bronwyn attempts to hide in the shadows of the willow tree, then once she's in place Edér calls out, "Hey, is someone there? I'm friendly if you are."
How much use those items are to him is unclear given that he appears to be a ghost. There's a blue aura surrounding him and if one looks closely he's slightly transparent. This doesn't seem to bother him any as he looks around for the source of the footsteps.
Perception DC35:
Rahlmaat turns her head and looks down at Straehan. Her smile has a keen edge to it. "Tell me, human, if I were to believe of you all that sages say about your species, how much of it would be true?"
Strae stops and regards the sphinx, speaking earnestly, ”I’ve given offense. I sincerely apologize and hope you will forgive me. I meant no slight. I just wondered if the ‘sages’ were correct at all. Curiosity has been the foundation of many of my journeys and I thought it would be nice if that was a quality we shared.”
He pauses a moment longer before resuming his stroll. ”As for my species… If I knew what poor opinions sages held of my race, I might be inclined to agree. I’ve met few truly noble humans – and I'm not among their number.”
…after a while admits, "I have traveled wide in search of answers and questions both. True riddles I seek, not the toy-riddles which so many scholars think we sphinxes favor."
The sorcerer’s sober mood lightens a bit. ”Then, perhaps your arrival here was not accidental. Fate has dropped you into the center of a box of riddles whose ramifications may change our understanding of the multiverses.”
"…how long do you think it has been on the world of your birth since your death? I should not be surprised to find that it took long centuries for what remains of us to arrive in this place, if not longer. For all we know, there is nowhere left to go back to."
”I debated asking the Widow that very question but chose not to tax her patience. I plan on making enquiries in Limbo. I imagine some skilled seers have ‘slipped through the cracks of reality’ as we have. There’s a war whose outcome I wish to know – even if it was centuries ago.”
She sweeps her left wing into the air briefly, as if brushing something away. "Though it is a pity so few monuments bear dates. I would be curious to see if there was a pattern in time."
Straehan nods, ”Agreed. I also wonder if there is some significance regarding who awoke in a plain grave versus some of the larger and finer tombs? I assume that we aren’t the only curious people drawn here. If so, then likely some scholar residing in the city has studied the cemetery. Perhaps the answers to some of our questions can be found in a library.”
"It's not there anymore... I don't remember breath of life." She said, now saddened for what she'd lost. Se felt Restoration and Remove Curse there -- she was only a hair's breadth too weak. "It's close. If I were only a little stronger... Can we..? Can we grow? Learn more, regain some of what was lost?"
"As for whether it is fate that we be here? Fate is but the consequence of choice and Truth. All things are the result of these two, by my judgment."
"I certainly have hopes to find great stores of knowledge in the city, but I wonder what the price of access may be. In a place such as this, I would think Truth would be valued above gold, and so access to a library might well cost more than a king's crown."
She pauses, then adds, "As would only be right."
”Fate is but the consequence of choice and Truth. All things are the result of these two, by my judgment."
Straehan strokes his beard, considering. ”What you do you mean by Truth?”
"A proper riddle should be solved by one's own mind, for little is gained if you are simply given an answer. I will give you, then, only the start. Truth is what Is and what Was."
Already slightly wary and a bit on edge of any potential undead threats, Vol draws Slaughterfang, his wicked looking butcher's axe. "I know you're there, so no use in hiding. If you're looking for a fight, be honorable and show yourself." Comes the orc's deep voice.
"What is Truth? Have not the philosophes debated this since philosophy began? But how can one know anything else if one does not know Truth?"
”Discerning facts from fantasies – and gathering more of the former than the latter – is certainly helpful in assessing what is true in any situation.”
"A proper riddle should be solved by one's own mind, for little is gained if you are simply given an answer. I will give you, then, only the start. Truth is what Is and what Was."
[b]”Hmm. So if Fate is merely is a result of truth and choice, that suggests there may not be any external… sentience (be it a God or otherwise) in the equation. Is that your belief?”
"The gods are not external to reality. They also have choice and are part of Truth," Rahlmaat replies. "Existence is, I would say by definition, a closed system. Which is, of course, why learning of that which does exist is of such import."
His gaze shifts from the axe up to Volgroruth's face. "Whoa, you're a big fella ain't ya? Not used to havin' to look up to meet people in the eyes. Anyways, my name's Edér. I just got here and am mighty confused, so if you ain't lookin' for a fight then maybe we could talk a spell? Or just go our separate ways. I'm easy."
Vol positively towers over the blonde haired man. He is twice as tall as the human, with massive bat like wings sprouting from his back. He wears no armor or even shirt, but instead it appears that there are hunks of metal, barbed wire, and fragments of rusted weapons imbedded in his jet black flesh. His huge chest, some four feet wide, giant arms, and the rest of his exposed skin(aside from his face) is covered in eldritch tattoos that glow a faint, sickly green color. His eyes smolder a dark red, and a pair of horns curl around each side of his head. Bone spikes protrude from his jaw, and two small tusks jut up from his mouth.
Once Edér makes his intentions known, he lowers his axe, though only somewhat. After all, it would appear that the man before him was some sort of apparition. "Well met Edér. I am Volgroruth Bloodscream, and I too have recently come back to life. Though, it would appear you have not fully completed your return." He says, in obvious reference to the man's transparent, ghostly state.
He leans back, one eyebrow raised as he studies Volgroruth. "So, uh, mind if I ask a question about your diet? 'Cause you look like the type of fella my nan would have told me ate naughty little children for breakfast. If you saw a kid, or maybe an orlan, someone super small and tasty-looking, would you try to eat them?" He raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Not tryin' to offend or start a fight, just askin'."
The massive orc looks around slowly, hefting his gigantic axe as he does so, as if maybe trying to spot something hidden. "Why do you ask? Do you happen to have any super small, tasty-looking small children hiding nearby? I'm ravenous!" He says, rubbing his huge belly, and flashing Edér a wicked grin.
Which lasts for only a few seconds before he erupts into a full body laugh. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. No, I do not eat children, or humans. Though, there are or rather were, actually maybe still are? I'm not sure honestly. Ah, where was I? Right, some members of Scourged Legion ate our captive foes, but I tried to outlaw and discourage that practice as best I could."
"No it isn't," calls a voice from the willow tree as a small, furry creature emerges from the shadows. She's almost ridiculously tiny compared to Volgroruth and probably wouldn't even come up to his knee. The dark brown hair on her head is braided down the sides of her face, framing large, blue-green eyes with slit pupils like a cat's. She's holding a bow loosely in one hand but doesn't have an arrow in the other.
"Sorry about that. Wasn't sure who or what was approaching so I figured I'd hide while Edér checked things out." She has to stop a good ten feet away from Volgroruth in order to look at his face without craning her neck at an impossible angle. "My name's Bronwyn. Like Edér said, we just got here. The Weeping Widow told us we should walk towards the sun until we got to a city called Limbo, so that's what we're doing. I'm hoping someone there can tell us how to get back to Eora."
"The Lady said it's impossible, but the Watcher here sees that word as a challenge," Edér chimes in. "What about you? Got any plans of what to do next?"
”The gods are not external to reality. They also have choice and are part of Truth,"
”I see. So the Gods’ choices may be lead to consequences for lesser beings regardless of those beings’ choices?” He chuckles, ”Or do our choices and consequences drive the gods’ choices? How delightful that we might be the puppet-masters.”
"Existence is, I would say by definition, a closed system. Which is, of course, why learning of that which does exist is of such import."
Straehan raises a curious eyebrow, ” ‘By definition’ has always seemed to me to be an arbitrary fence to limit possibilities. With so many unexplored possibilities, I would not agree that existence is certainly a closed system nor where those closures are. Where we are now… does that expand the bound of existence or are we outside existence – while still existing? At a minimum, it seems we are beyond the bounds of previously known ‘existence’.”
Though speaking of slow, is her own mind less than once it was? The sphinx suspects so, but it is difficult to measure a mind with the mind itself. Still she's certain that only a few of her mental enhancements have made it to this form.
Hmm... if this form is made of 'aether'... is it more malleable than mortal flesh? And would that include the mind? Likely not, though she could experiment with what alteration magic she can recall. Still, the mind is more closely linked to the spirit, as evidenced by how she remembers at least part of her past without any of her physical body coming here.
...just how much of her spirit came here? Might some portion of her been severed by the means of her death, and gone on to the River of Souls and Pharasma's judgment? Would she, perhaps, never recover all of what she had once known because of this? Is this why her form, powers, and memories are so reduced?
She mentally files that as something to study when she can while responding to the conversation.
"You do hit on a grand riddle. What is existence? What does it mean to exist? How would you define it?"
"As for the gods... some of them were once mortal, and some of them have found themselves more mortal than they would wish. Truth is rarely simple."
Amn smiled only briefly, but nodded with understanding. "I will hold my conviction. And I thank you so much for what you've given me, miss. I... I should probably take those first steps now. Thank you."
She offered a polite and reverent bow, but hesitated to leave. "And... Thank you for talking as you do. It's beautiful to hear a voice..."
Amn smiled and looked to the sun. She put one foot in front of the other, and kept walking towards the pale orb.
Off in the distance Kiya and Daisy spotted what appeared to be a couple of humanoids under a tree, the pair stopped considering their options.
I doubt many people would come to such a desolate place willingly... so they're probably new arrivals just like us... but keep your wits about you anyway.
Kiya stuffed Urgathoa's holy symbol beneath her clothes. Better safe than sorry. Don't know what kind of people we could meet. They made their approach but stopped when they noticed the two had become three.
And now they outnumber us. Daisy moaned to Kiya. Not to mention one of them looks strange. Transparent like. I know we're in a humungous graveyard but does there need to be so many ghosts.
Kiya chuckled before calling out in a raised voice. Hello there. briefly turning to Daisy she lowers her voice and says. If they do react with hostility you take the smaller one and I'll handle the other two.
Vol laughs again at the appearance of Bronwyn. "You are very small, indeed. Do not worry tiny one, I will not eat you." He says, flashing a grin full of sharp teeth.
"Yes, I too met a Weeping Widow who instructed me to journey to Limbo, so it would appear we're heading the same direction. Though, I wonder if you'll be able to keep up with me? Should I carry you?"