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Lawric moves through the chamber in silence as the last of the prisoners flee. He watches the bodies laid out near the pool, his expression unchanged. After a moment, he steps to Thurgan’s side, eyes drifting from the corpses to the orc. "THEY MUST BE NAMED. THEY WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN BY THE LADY" Lawric kneels beside the first of the bodies, the cavern’s still air barely shifting around him. He pulls his small, worn book from inside his cloak and opens it across his knee. He writes slowly. Very slowly.
He moves to the next body. Then the next.
"TO REMOVE THE ROT, YOU MUST ALSO DESTROY ALL OF ITS SPORES", he states calmly, in response to the Orc. "WE SHOULD RETURN TO TRUNAU TO REGROUP AND LEARN MORE OF THESE ADVERSARIES. WE WILL RETURN AND WE WILL FIND THEM AND THEY WILL KNOW THE MOTHER'S WRATH. spoken in a simple, cold certainty.
“WE BURN THE DEAD,” he says, turning toward the ruined chambers. “BUT WE LAY THEM WITH DIGNITY FIRST, IN THE LIGHT OF DAY. THEIR BELONGINGS GO TO THEIR NEXT OF KIN, IF THEY CAN BE FOUND" He pauses, deep in reflection and thought. The silence drags on as he stands without blinking. "I WISH TO RETURN AND MORE THOROUGHLY INVESTIGATE WHAT OCURRED HERE. IF NONE ARE STAYING, THEN LET THEM HAVE THEIR CLOSURE- BUT SPARE THE CHAPEL AND THE REMAINS IN THE GRAVEYARD. THOSE BELONG TO THE LADY" Then to Galimus: “THE SPELLBOOK GOES TO AGRIT. THAT IS A PROMISE WE MADE.” With that settled, he moves to the first of the bodies and begins to prepare each corpse for its last fire.
Lawric snaps his head toward the empty space where Krant vanished. He steps forward once, jaw tightening. “APPEAR.” He raises a hand, fingers stiff, and releases a short, focused surge of counterforce into the air.
As the shimmering fades, Lawric's hand shifts to Grum and twists the Lady's fate toward the creature. ** Dispel Magic, level 2
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, Needle darts, Prestidigitation, Light, Vitality lash 1: Bless, Bless, Santuary 2: Dispel Magic, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense
"FOR REFUSING THE RIVER OF SOULS." Lawric braces himself as the waves of void energy roll over him, the distortion pulling at his cloak and hair. He holds his ground, pale face unchanged. When the last ripple fades, he lifts his fist. A slow pulse of light gathers in his palm and compresses inward, then breaks outward in a sharp burst of white energy. *** Heal (Level 2)
Cloaked in darkness, Lawric slowly and steadily crosses the worn stone floor. He momentum carries him up to the very edge of what he presumes to be another pit. The glowing poppet bobbs in the air infront of him, casting deep shadows across the edge of his hood. A pale finger lifts toward the figure at the back of the cavern. "REPENT" * Stride
Lawric moves forward through the narrow cave, stopping short when Thurgan drops out of sight. He moves a few steps closer to the edge, eyes narrowing at the undead crossing the chamber. He raises a hand toward the nearest one (red). “STOP.” A pulse of vitality energy snaps from his palm toward the creature threatening Thurgan.
Lawric moves forward at a steady pace, keeping his focus on the shambling undead ahead. He reaches to his belt, pulls free three more metal shards, and flicks them toward the creature. “ENOUGH.”
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, Needle darts, Prestidigitation, Light, Vitality lash 1: Bless, Bless, Santuary 2: Dispel Magic, Cleanse affliction Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Void energy ripples around the halfling, rippling in the air as he walks. The distortion clings to him, but he doesn’t slow. His eyes stay fixed on the undead ahead... reflecting nothing but Pharasma’s quiet disapproval. He reaches to his belt, fingers brushing the small bar of metal there. Three jagged shards tear free and lift into the air. “HER PATIENCE IS NOT ENDLESS.” The shards whistle forward, cutting through the space between him and the abomination.
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 0 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, Needle darts, Prestidigitation, Light, Vitality lash 1: Bless, Bless, Santuary 2: Dispel Magic, Cleanse affliction Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Lawric shifts forward in the cavern, shadowing behind Thurgan and Grump. Lawric moves through the open chamber, footsteps light against the stone. He keeps just behind Thurgan, following the orc’s advance as though his shadow The sounds of the creature echo from ahead. Lawric’s eyes fix on the movement, cold and unblinking. “AS ALWAYS, YOU LEAD. I WILL TIDY AFTER.” From the small block of metal at his belt, he peels three thin shards of cold iron... each one glinting faintly in the dim light. With a short, precise motion, he flings them toward the creature breaking through the door. ◆ Stride
Lawric watches the prisoners as they flee, but doesn’t move closer. His eyes flick from one to another, then toward the door they fear. “I TRUST THEIR FEAR IS VALID” He steps forward just enough to stand beside Galimus, the poppet turning slowly over his shoulder. “IF THEY WHISPER OF SOMETHING WORSE, WE SHOULD LISTEN.”
Lawric raises his hand, the poppet floating just behind his shoulder as his caustic voice cuts through the clatter of bone and steel. “STAY DOWN.” A streak of pale energy whips from his palm, striking toward the blue-lit skeleton menacing Thurgan. The air hums faintly with the pulse of creation’s forge. ◆ Stride
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, Needle darts, Prestidigitation, Light, Vitality lash 1: Bless, Bless, Santuary 2: Dispel Magic, Cleanse affliction Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Earlier
“NAME KNOWN OR UNKNOWN?” After the answer, he pulls a small, water-stained book from beneath his cloak and opens it across his knee. He writes carefully, the ink catching in the damp air—names where there are names, a small mark where there are none. He traces a spiral in the mud beside the corpse, then places a hand on the brow. “THE LADY OF GRAVES SEES YOU. YOUR PATH IS CLEAR. GO WITHOUT REGRET.” He waits until the current carries the body downstream, watching in silence until it is gone. Then he closes the book, slides it back beneath his cloak, and rises to follow the others. ---
Lawric moves slowly through the graveyard, the rain dulling every sound but his steps. At each disturbed grave, he kneels long enough to study the soil and broken wood—then pulls his small, water-stained book from beneath his cloak. He writes a name. “THREE FROM ABOVE,” he says quietly, eyes on the torn coffins. His shrill voice pierces the quiet of the desecrated chapel and grounds.“THEY WERE FRESH, AND TAKEN WITHOUT CARE.” He moves to the next cluster of graves, the ones that have sunken inward. Another pause. Another name entered. “FIVE FROM BELOW. THEY WERE PULLED BACK INTO WHAT CLAIMED THEM.” Finally, he stops at the last grave, fingers tracing the slick black roots. “HARLO KRANT,” he reads, adding the final line to his record. “LESS THAN A YEAR IN HER KEEP.” He closes the book and looks toward the shrine. “THEY ARE ACCOUNTED FOR. NOW WE FIND WHO UNACCOUNTED THEM.” He lifts the chalice, holding it up his eye. "A RELIC OF THE LADY. WE MAY USE IT" he mentions, looking toward Galimus as he speaks. At last, he pauses stoicly, looking across the damaged and desecrated graveyard and shrine. His already pitched voice cracks with something close to emotion. "SO MANY NAMES. WE MUST FOLLOW THOSE RESPONSIBLE INTO THE PITS"
Lawric studies the body for a long moment before extending his hand. The water stirs at his gesture, rippling outward. A corner of the cloak tears free from the rock, and the corpse drifts slowly down the spring.
“IT ISN’T A FINAL REST,” he says quietly, “BUT IT IS REST. NO ONE SHOULD BE LEFT AS POISON TO THEIR OWN.”
⸻ The next morning, Lawric moves in silence— even for him. His motions are deliberate, almost meditative, as he prepares his things. The hard light in his eyes never fades; determination has taken the place of rest. “HER WORK NEEDS DOING.” It’s the only sentence he offers. A brief nod passes to Thurgan and Grump... something old, practiced, understood without words. When the party steps off toward the hill, Lawric falls in behind the orc as naturally as a shadow finding its source. Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, Needle darts, Prestidigitation, Light, Vitality lash 1: Bless, Bless, Santuary 2: Dispel Magic, Cleanse affliction Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Active conditions: Spirit Sense
When the last of the noise fades, Lawric steps carefully over the scorched floor. The air still hums with heat and the stench of rot. He stops beside Galimus without a word. For a long moment, he just looks at him—expression unreadable. Then he reaches out, resting two fingers against the oracle’s shoulder. A faint, sterile glow passes from his hand into the wounded flesh.
When it’s done, he withdraws his hand, turns, and walks back across the room. He lowers himself to the floor, cloak wrapped tightly around him, and closes his eyes. He does not say goodnight.
Spell Text: Choose an affliction on the target, such as a curse, disease, or poison. If it has advanced past stage one, reduce the stage by one. This reduction can be applied only once to a given case of an affliction, with the case ending when it's completely cured. Although the reduction can't occur again, heightened versions of this spell attempt to counteract with each casting.
Lawric focuses on the cluster of undead pressing against Thurgan. He extends one hand toward them. “RETURN TO YOUR GRAVES.” A line of pale energy lashes through the horde, cutting into the rot that refuses to rest. He lowers his hand, draws a steady breath, and whispers a quiet phrase under it. He calls the Lady’s clarity to his own mind. ** Vitality Lash
Lawric waits as the dead pour through the shattered boards, their moans filling the air like wind through a crypt. He stands his ground, eyes fixed on the first to breach. Only when they are close enough to threaten the others, does he move. “COME NO FURTHER.”, his shrill and strained voices pierces the silence. A wave of white-blue light erupts outward from him, washing through friend and foe alike. The living feel warmth surge through their wounds; the dead recoil as the same energy burns through their hollow frames. *** 3 action Heal
Lawric stands perfectly still in the middle of the empty room, unmoving in the long silence before the storm of combat. Exerting his will against the night, the shimmering emanation around him expands... spreading order outward like ripples through still water. He turns his head slightly, eyes drifting to Thurgan and Grump. Without a word, he bends fate around them. The Lady’s blessing settles on the faithful ◆ Sustain Bless (+10ft)
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense, Fatigued
Lawric rises slowly, cloak brushing the ground as he stands. He lifts one hand toward the ceiling, palm open. “LET RIGHTNESS GATHER.” A faint radiance begins to hum in the air around him, drawing warmth into the room. *Stand
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense, Fatigued, Bless
In a well-practiced movement, Lawric steps through the space behind Thurgan’s shield and retreats deeper into the room. His floating poppet follows, bobbing along just over his shoulder, thread-faced and silent. Once he’s reached a safe distance, he turns sharply. One hand rises. “RETURN TO YOUR PLACE.” A streak of pale energy tears from his palm, washing over the pink-rotted thing with silent force. * Stride
Lawric lifts his hand again, fingers steady. “STAY DOWN.” A second bolt of vital energy lashes out toward the decaying form, quickly retracting for form a glowing barrier between the undead and pale halfling. **
↺ If a creature dies, death’s call. Temporary HP = (Creature Level + 4)*2 Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense, Fatigued
Lawric’s eyes snap open before the groaning reaches full volume. He rises. One hand slides beneath his cloak to draw a small, black-handled dagger that is more ritualistic than practical. The other tugs his hood tighter as he moves inward, stepping closer to Thurgan and the growling Grump. “YOU HAVE NEVER FAILED.”
Then, with a sharp breath, he whips a bolt of radiant force toward the green-skinned brute looming at the edge of the light. “BACK TO DUST” He raises his free hand just after, forming a shimmering ward in front of him. A moment later, the air between him and the enemy tenses.
◆ Stand
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Lawric stops mid-wrap as a familiar warmth washes over him. Blossoms drift on the edge of his vision—strange, soft spirits brushing past his skin. He breathes in through his nose and lets the linen fall from his hands. No need for poultices now. The work is done by gentler hands. He stands and turns at Naquin’s question, eyes resting briefly on the broken forms piled near the wall. “THEY ARE NOT BODIES,” he says calmly. “THEY ARE EXHAUSTED SHELLS. IF THEY HELP US RESIST THE DEAD TONIGHT, WE WILL SEE TO THEIR RITES AT DAWN.” He doesn’t wait for agreement. He just goes back to the windows and works to repair the damage.
Just steps quietly back to a place near the others, folds his legs beneath him, and closes his eyes. He sleeps this time where others can see him.
Lawric moves through the wreckage without a word. He gathers bandages, clean water, thread. His hands are steady, methodical—more embalmer than medic. He stitches Galimus with precise, expressionless care. Wraps Thurgan’s arm tight enough to stop the bleeding, but not enough to bruise. Cleans the bite on Grump’s flank with slow, circular motions. “YOU’LL HURT FOR A WHILE,” he says softly. “THAT MEANS YOU’RE ALIVE.” Then he keeps working.
Galimus 10/37 + 20 = 30/37
As the creature in front of Galimus dies, Lawric whispers into the night- coaxing the released spirit toward his poppet.
Reaction to Cast Focus spell: death’s call:
You gain temporary Hit Points equal to the triggering creature's level plus your spellcasting attribute modifier. If the triggering creature was undead, double the number of temporary Hit Points you gain. Too many, too close.
“THE LADY DOES NOT YIELD.”
Status: HP: 17/33 + 6 heal + ? Temp HP Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 1/2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Lawric moves forward, keeping to the edge of the chaos. His eyes track the blood blooming beneath Galimus, already pooling in places it shouldn’t. He raises one hand—not in panic, but in declaration. “BREATH.” A quiet pulse of vital energy rushes forward from his outstretched palm, threading through the air before sinking into Galimus’s form, still on the ground.
“THURGAN. DON’T GET LOST. I AM COMING” His voice doesn’t rise in urgency. It just cuts—high, strained, and certain.
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Lawric awakens without a start, eyes open before the sound fully registers. The groaning wood, the wet scrape of claw on stone, the sharp crack of splintering boards. He stands. No words of alarm. No rush. Just a soft exhale as his eyes move toward the window where the form takes shape in the moonlight—bloated and blue, pressing against the shattered frame. He focuses his energy on a small bar of cold iron tied to his belt, peeling of several sharp strips and flinging them into the quickly widening hole.
Lawric awakens without a start, eyes open before the sound fully registers. The groaning wood, the wet scrape of claw on stone, the sharp crack of splintering boards. He stands. No words of alarm. No rush. Just a soft exhale as his eyes move toward the window where the form takes shape in the moonlight—bloated and blue, pressing against the shattered frame. He lifts one finger. “YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH TIME ON THIS SIDE.” A sudden surge of searing energy lashes out from his hand, spiraling with white heat—drawn not from fire, but from Creation’s first breath.
Status: HP: 33/33 Hero Points: 1 Halfling Luck: 1 Focus Points: 2 Spell DC 19, Attack +10 Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash 1: Bless, Command, Fear 2: Calm, Cleanse affliction Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Active conditions: Spirit Sense |
