"I'd wager it's to the door behind the moving statue with the shields," Irgal pipes up. "Perhaps we should check there?"
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Okay, now I'm really back-back, but I'm still trying to get caught up.
Irgal approaches. "Maybe there's a trick here?" He casts detect magic and scans the door and room.
Yeah, Channel Energy and holy water are the best ways to bypass incorporeality. Of course, I only have one channel left today, so it might be best to meet the challenge later, anyway?
Irgal just follows silently for the time being, perfectly happy to let the larger members jostle amongst themselves and thanking the chance to breathe better air.
Pale and shaky from fume inhalation, Irgal responds, "I'm sorry, something was supposed to what, again?" A look dawns over him as he slumps against the wall. "Was... Was that the Everflame?"
Irgal looks everyone over. "How is everyone? Do you need healing?"
Damage: 2d6 + 9 ⇒ (6, 5) + 9 = 20
"A keyhole? Do we even have a key?" Irgal pulls out his bow and fires.
Not wanting to hit the large lizard paladin, he shoots poorly.
"What the blazes?" Irgal looks the statue over and at Harken, Jaer, and Keshy below. He quickly starts a chant. "Deliver the strength of many to a single champion. Deliver the strength of many to a single champion."
"Home and Family are two of the precepts that Erastil holds dear," Irgal recites, somewhat rotely. "I wouldn't be surprised if the required symbolism teaches the value of protecting these precepts, as in turn, they protect you." Gulping, he adds, "Of course, I spent far more time in the fields than at my desk... I'll... see if I can determine the symbols."
"Who's raising those skeletons?" Irgal seethes. Unfamiliar with the amount of death of his fellow citizens around him, he grows furious. "When I get to the bottom of this, I swear, I will unleash Deadeye's justice upon them!"
Irgal holds onto his belongings and wishes Roldare well. "We'll be back, with Dimira, then we can all get out of here. Thank you for the warning regarding the traps. We'll be careful."
Our diplomacy is sublime. You can be sure that we will point out every danger at every turn, keeping you safe from the monstrosities that you were unaware you had no defense against. No, don't worry about our armaments nor about our odd religious fervor, we only use those to punish unbelievers! Your thoughts are pure, aren't they? Of course they are. We'd have destroyed you by now if they were otherwise. Rejoice! Keep smiling, it's good for you!
Irgal marches up to Roldare. "Roldare, this is not the end of your days. Erastil has seen fit to send us to clean up this mess, and as we have watched him utterly demolish piles of walking bones as we ventured into here, as we successfully made it to you, we are still more than a mere pack of children. Between Jaer's guile, Harken's back, Ka'narg's expertise, Illya-Nim's will, and Keshy's fervor, you'll find that we've got more strength on our side than one might expect. We may not be the team you sought, but we are the team you'll need. Now, you can join us and let us protect you as we save Dimira, or you can stay here and hide and keep yourself safe, but we are all pulling together, and Erastil has decreed: you will not die today."
Clearly impatient, Irgal adds, "Now, we need to keep going. We have a fire to fetch, and our fellow villagers to save!"
Irgal bites his lip and shuffles his feet. "Um, well..." Looking around to the group, he turns back to Roldare. "Er, well, that is to say... We are the children."
"She's a bit tense, too, Roldare. We all are. Things are going wrong. Let's regroup and just make sure we all get out safely, all right?"
"Shelyn? Krayl? Oh, oh no... Roldare? The skeletons are gone. They could not stand the light of Erastil. We're friends. We're real. Please, listen to our prayers. Erastil, grant some comfort to your poor servant." Irgal prays to Erastil to fill the are with his presence.
Irgal mutters, "...Not particularly auspicious, if you ask me..."
Irgal, having been content to stay at the side and let Jaer explore, sighs and picks up a broom. He starts sweeping. "There's got to be more here. A place with pillows and brooms? Something is being hidden on the floor."
Irgal takes the smokestick and offers to carry the rest of Bardan's pack. "We won't need the extra tent and blanket, necessarily, but waste not, want not." Eyeing the brooms, Irgal adds, "Is there something to sweep here, perchance?"
Irgal looks Harken over. "No, not nearly enough. Erastil watch over you."
Irgal barely stifles a chuckle as he approaches. "Hello Jaer. The name's Irgal. Fancy meeting a new face, here!" Irgal looks Harken over, and adds, "Let me know how you feel after that draught. A quick prayer will finish healing your wounds, should any remain."
Irgal frets, sadness and rage rising within him. With all alacrity, he looks at the skeletons and calls out, "Erastil remove these abominations!"
Irgal takes a step back and prepares his bow.
Packing up his tent, Irgal smiles and adds, "Everyone ready? Let's go!"
Before everyone sleeps for the night, Irgal asks everyone to gather round for a prayer to Erastil. The ritual is simple, but invigorating.
At dawn, Irgal prays to Erastil and checks on the remains of the horses before continuing.
"Still no shovels like before. I recommend a pyre, honestly."
Good to see you!
Irgal pulls out his veterinarian's kit. "Let me take a closer look," he replies, testily. He offers a prayer "Erastil, strengthen my resolve..." and examines the wounds.
Still in shock, Irgal walks by Illya-Nym. "I'll take the arrows. Blunt? Dead horses, blunt arrows, that's not making a lot of sense, to be honest."
I vote for a new rogue, as well. Regarding marching order, I'm an archer, so I can be toward the back, as long as you don't mind putting the small guy back there.
Irgal stares in shock. "That's bad. Really bad. Illusory orcs are one thing, long-dead corpses and treacherous paths are not threats, but this? This?" Tears well up as he continues, "Who would do this to horses?"
Irgal looks down the path, not even thinking of it as an obstacle. "I'll wait for you at the bottom," he states as he sets off.
It was mine. Go ahead, blame the sure-footed halfling for being unable to manage the time of you ungainly top-heavy giants. See you down there.
"I sincerely hope not," Irgal blurts bluntly. "Think of all the poor mothers who would have lost a child."
The shortsword's no good for me. I'm not trained with it, nor is it the right size.
Irgal starts carving a makeshift gravestone into a piece of driftwood as he prepares the corpse. He takes time to examine his effects. "If we can identify him, we will be able to tell someone, somewhere about his passing. You're right, he won't need his sword, so we can take it. Certainly there must be someone who misses him." He grasps his holy symbol and chants, "Deadeye, grant me sight."
He looks the body, sword, and pouch over one last time.
Irgal nods. "Rocks it is. I'll offer Erastil's blessing."
"I'm afraid I don't, either. Isn't there a funeral pyre tradition among the Ulfen? That would be another possibility."
Irgal turns to Keshy. "We really should investigate closer," he protests quietly. He walks up to the body to examine it.
Irgal's curiosity gets the better of him as he carefully approaches the figure.
"Can't you just growl fiercely or something? She just looks hungry. Maybe I should feed her or something."
I'm halfling-sneaky, but not particularly lock-picky.
Irgal draws his bow, preparing to fire if necessary.
Irgal pitches his tent in a simple, yet functional fashion. "No need to make it too incredible. It's a fine place to be."
"Nah, it's fine as it is. We just have to keep going."
Irgal stops worrying about the orc corpse as he draws his little morningstar. Then, in one swift movement, he stands tall, a little too tall, looking Harken square in the eye, winks, and swings at the last standing orc.
"A test?" Irgal calls incredulously. "This is all supposed to be some sort of test, isn't it?" Irgal runs up to the corpse of the right orc to examine it in more detail...
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