"Ye dinnae look so good , either. Mayhaps ye should be restin' while we continue on. Gotta lo' o' work t' do t' get these bodies topside, an' then...well, ain't rightly knowin' wha' then. If'n we ken be gettin' th' bodies back t' the courthouse an' gettin' a priest t' be speakin' wit' th' dead, then they should be able t' clear Brodur. Course, tha' means findin' Elsa's body an' bringin' i' back. Likely have t' dig i' up from the graveyard."
"An' why did Brodur just bring back Ellsa's body an' no' the others? like t' be tha' she were th' only one t' show him friendship. More questions than answers we be havin' a' this poin', bu' me thinkin's tha' we be on th' right' track."
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Wren looks at Arval with concern.
"Oh dearie, you look terrible. Just awful, like you're on the verge of death," Wren says grandmotherly. "Is this also what happened to Kawrock?"
* * *
"...thinkin's tha' we be on th' right' track."
Wren's face scrunches as she tries to make out the language that 'Jack is speaking, but cannot place it as one she's heard on Golarion.
Shrugging, she recasts light and follow Kawrock deeper into the cave.
"I have not been touch by a wraith as of yet. Just because my plumage is not as colorful as you are use to, it does not mean there is something wrong with me. If you want something bright and colorful I may be able to oblige the request soon." The Tengu replies to the strange feathered elf.
The group explore the rest of the small cave which burrows into the hill. However, it does not go back very far and does not contain any items of interest, only the four bodies.
"All clear in here. Lets more these bodies and see if there isn't a grave for the little girl."
Wren casts Detect Magic as she sweeps the cave, chittering and chattering as she does.
"Oh, this cave reminds me...blahblah...a young woman exploring her own...blahblah...a journey of self...blahblahblah...finding things where light...blahblah...and of course, two different sizes...blahblahblah...the warmer the jelly the better...blahblah...twice in one night..."
But her babbling trails off as Kawrock makes his offer.
"If you want something bright and colorful I may be able to oblige the request soon."
"You can do requests? You have colors other than drab?" Wren coos excitedly. "That would be nice! I would love some pretty yellows or purples if you can...I wasn't aware you could change colors."
Wren will help carry some of the bodies as well, packing them in her blanket and then in her haversack.
"Well, where to now? Maybe to Stitches' home?" Wren asks Eldon.
"A fine idea," Eldon replies to Wren, "but first we may want to locate Ellsa's grave. Though if we happen to pass Brodur's house on the way, we could reverse the order."
Eldon heads to the rope and climbs out of the hole. Once outside he'll give the others a status update on the sun's position in the sky. Of course, Eldon will make use of the opportunity to explain how to tell the time and cardinal directions by the position of the sun. "I learned this during one of my many and epic journeys, while sailing over an ocean in search of an island filled with treasure and beautiful mermaids. You see, when the sun rises..."
Wren scans the cave but finds no magic. The group finally emerge from the cave with Arval barely getting out. Normally hale and doughty, Arval shivers constantly, and the colours seem to bleed form the world for him.
The sun is nearly set by the time the group make their way to the graveyard. However, as they approach they hear curious a curious shrieking noise from the chapel, but it's distorted and unworldly. The sound of some otherworldly creature in great pain.
Arval holds huis shield closer as he hears the sound. He follows the group but at the back instead of at the front.
"Not more of those things..."
He says in a frail voice.
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"If'n i' be, then stay back ye will. No chance'n fallin' prey again. Mebbe nothin' but i's no' worth th' chance, lad." Whiskeyjack led the way forward, hoping to spot whatever was making the racket before it spotted them.
Whiskeyjack holds up his shield, advancing slowly. As the sunlight finally fades out over the swamp, a curious thing happens. Rushing past Whiskeyjack and the rest of the party, a wraith bursts from the confines of the chapel, moving impossibly fast as it screams off into the distant swamp.
Around the village, the group see a few other wraiths emerge from homes, shrieking as they vanish in the distance.
"Well, I guess we be knowin' wha' be happenin' t' th' other wraithspawns. Bu', tha's a task fer another day. Le's be abou' our business."
Wren puckers up as the wraiths appear...only to slowly let go as the wraiths flee.
"Yes, let's do what we can, friends. Ol' dear Stitches is probably worried sick about me, and I about him," Wren agrees with Jack. "Let's keep moving...to the graveyard, then?"
Wren checks to see that her magical protections still imbue her feathered magic armor and bobs her head as she walks forward. She falls in beside Eldon.
"Tell me again, Eldon...how did you begin to lead this flock?"
Arval slowly lets his shield down and follows, a bit slower than usual, Wren.
"Well at least the theory on the head wraith panned out" Kawrock says as he watches the lesser spawn flee. "I was not looking forward to fighting all of those in the dark."
Once at the grave yard Kawrock will begin searching for Elsa's grave.
Kawrock looks over the gravestones and sure enough, sees a relatively recent one with ELLSA carved into a crude headstone above a spiral of Pharasma.
Wren walks between the lines of gravestone before she finally stops in front of the one for Ellsa.
"Oh dearie me," Wren says, looking at the headstone. "I think this must be hers. Is one of you consecrated to a church that might be able to say a few words of Ellsa?" Wren asks, still trying to learn something of her new best friends.
Since digging is likely to be necessary, Wren will 'help' shuffling dirt out of the way with her feet, much like a chicken scratching and looking for worms.
Arval sits down near the grave and loosens his shovel from his pack, holding it up for Wren.
"That doesn't work, use this."
Whiskeyjack snatched the shovel from Arval's hands. "Gimme that! Damn elves dinnae know real work from th' holes in their bums. All they know t' do is flap their lips like a bird's wings. As if'n they could be flyin' if'n they be talkin' fast enough..."
The dwarf continued to curse and mutter as he worked, talking of Agradd's bloody vengeance on all useless people, and of how fancy dressed people ought not to be out in public, and the general cursings of a man digging in the dirt without a decent bit to drink. Of course, every time Whiskeyjack got to that part, he would pull out his flask and take a swig.
When the hollow thunk of a shovel hitting wood sounded, Whiskejay moved more carefully. He excavated most of the dirt around the coffin and then used his hands to scoop out the rest. Finally, he said a blessing over the coffin, using his station as a priest of Angradd to evoke the darven pantheon's blessing on this child's soul, before opening it.
The group dig and almost immediately uncover the unfortunately decayed body of a little girl held in burlap. Nobody here could afford a coffin.
"I met some of the others on our way to the funeral of a dear friend," Eldon tells Wren while heading toward the chapel. "He had a request in his will that we'd do some things for him, namely protect his daughter and deliver some books. I then stumbled upon a cult and a prison inhabited by ghosts, named Harrowstone, where I met some of the others. Not because they were ghosts or prisoners, but because they went there to join me later."
Eldon then goes in great detail of how he defeated the spirits in Harrowstone, and how the others assisted him with it. he does so even while Whiskey digs.
"...And so it happened that they came to rely on me, the most knowledgeable, most charismatic, strongest and bravest of the group. Which is why they continued to assist me when I took it upon myself to free Brodur of his charges. I mean, it's not like you find a person with my extraordinary capabilities every day, do you? I inspire courage into people, and that's why they want to be around me."
"Hey, you found the girl!" Eldon comments when Whiskey's done digging. "Good job, lad. Now remove her from the grave, if you will. I'll examine her before we try to communicate with her."
Eldon uses detect magic to see if magic's lingering on Ellsa, and inspects her for a cause of death.
Looking at the little girl's body, wrapped in burlap and buried in this forsaken place, Whiskeyjack paused. It was one thing to talk about digging her up and using her body to free Brodur, and another to actually think about what that meant for this child and her family. What desecration would they stoop to next?
"Is this th' righ' course o' action, d' ye think? Diggin' up a wee child's dead body, carryin' i' t' town so's her spiri' ken be interrogated fer a mob who's no' like t' thank us fer doin' i'? Sure'n she'll be sayin' 'twere th' wraith tha' kilt her, bu' no matter wha' th' people will think this be foully done."
Whiskeyjack was quiet for a moment, then continued. "I be offering t' pay fer a new funeral an' gravesite in town, fer Ellsa an' all th' others. None o' ye need t' think this be somethin' ye have t' pay fer. I be doin' i' because i' calls t' me heart, as if Angradd his own self be speakin' t' me. "
"Now, le's be off. We gotta long way t' go, an' need some way t' be transportin' all these bodies t' town."
Wren bobs her head like a rooster, listening to Eldon speak. She, being such a trusting soul (especially with her new best friends), believes everything Eldon is saying to her. And that no one else is changing or correcting the story just lends credibility to the man's claims.
* * *
Wren coos softly with her head bowed as Whiskeyjack sermonizes and/or blesses.
When others suggest taking the bodies back, Wren looks confused.
"Why would we do that? Do they need to see the bones for some reason? How would the bones help in Stitches' defense?"
Eldon quickly determines that she met the same fate as the other bodies discovered, the same one Arval is perilously close to. Her life force was completely drained from her.
a speak with dead spell, birdy. Would have thought you would know about that.
Wren squawks confusedly...such things had not been explained to her.
"Who can do that? One of us can speak with the dead? Also, is our word not good enough? I will be registered as Brodur's defender, the jurors and judges will surely believe me, won't they Plumie?" Wren says both to Vladlena and to the sky as she seeks her bird companion (who does not really exist).
"Well, if you wish to bring the body, bring the body. I'll not speak against it."
Wren begins to shuffle to Stitches' home, which she believes has yet to be explored.
"I already have one foot in the grave, might as well go all the way and talk to them for a bit. Though I would like to return."
Arval adds to the conversation.
Kawrock shakes his head. "I have such a spell, but the wounds Arval has received are beyond that spells power."
"Lena, ye dinnae know yer divine spells, though yer sorcery's next t' none I have seen. Lesser restoration be fer curin' temporary damage, bu' Arval's be much more serious, and be takin' a much more powerful spell t' cure. I cannae be castin' such a spell. Angradd dinnae be trustin' me t' channel tha' much o' his power a' one time ye'. Still, mebbe we ken be gettin' ye fixed up a' a temple in town on the morrow."
Arval looks more and more hopeless as everyone is discussing his fate.
"Hope so... Don't want to stop now..."
Wren clucks her tongue, walking and wondering if anyone else knows where they are going.
Kawrock nods in agreement with Whiskey. "Do not worry Arval, you'll be back to your old self soon, just take it easy and don't do anything reckless." The Tengu then walks swiftly to catch up to the feather wearing elf.
"אני כבר שמתי לב כמה התנהגות מוזרה לא אופיינית שלדון . אנא הסבר את עצמך ." He says to Wren once he is with in ear shot.
<elfspeech from a large, lipless birdman>
Wren smiles as Kawrock surprises her by clucking in a civilized language. Then, she brightens.
"Well, yes, it is true. I am very different than other elves, indeed, as you have noticed. While some people, even myself at times, find elves to be haughty and condescending, but people tend to just love me and Plumie, they do. Ol' Wren makes friends quite quickly," Wren answers with a yellowish smile that highlights all of her 8 charisma.
"In addition, I have wonderful fashion sense, as you've noticed," Wren spins twice, flashing a rainbow of colors - blues, purples, & reds, yellows, oranges, and greens - before looking down at Kawrock's matte finishing.
Wren blushes, realizing she was showing off.
"Yes, I am very unique," Wren says finally with a grandmotherly smile.
Kawrock sighs, slightly frustrated.
Kawrock sighs, slightly frustrated.
Wren looks Kawrock up and down and cocks her head like a raven looking for shiny things.
The group make their way through the darkened swamp over to the stand of trees which roughly matches the description the Beast provided of his home. They find a tangle of willow trees growing by the shores of the small lake, it has been scarred by a fire that seems specific to the willows.
Eldon's unable to understand a single word Wren and Kawrock are saying, but walks besides them and continuously nods his head. "Uhu... Uhu... Most certainly, yes... Uhu..."
When the party reaches Brodur's house, Eldon moves over to Arval and touches his shoulder. "The wraith also drained some of my health, though it's not showing even slightly due to my amazing stamina. Still, I sympathize and hope this'll help you."
A blue glow emits from Eldon's hand and the wounds Arval has suffered disappear. "There, that at least takes care of your physical wounds."
Eldon sends his dancing lights up to the house and follows them closely. He's constantly on the lookout for more traps, or any other kind of danger, while inspecting the willows.
As the wounds close up over his battered and bruised body Arval doubles over and throws up. After collecting himself again he slowly follows the others again.
Eldon scours over the area that was once the Beast's home. The fire seems to have consumed most items of interest, but he does manage to find a mostly intact book of Taldan poetry.
Whiskeyjack looked at the book, and then at Eldon and Wren. "Books seem t' be more your line o' work than mine. Still, bet Brodur'd like 'is book back, if'n it be his." Whiskeyjack poked around, looking for anything else of interest here.
it's a bit impolite to speak in another language in company, you two. Makes us feel left out
Wren smiles and coos at Vladlena.
"Oh, you're quite right, dearie! Did you wish me to explain the conversation we were having or how to speak the elven language?" Wren asks, barely pausing before answering her own question.
Wren will reveal the spoilers above...and then begin to teach Vladlena the entire history of the elves (according to her) and how to speak elvish.
"Oh, the elves are a very proud...blahblah...rule by the most pointy-eared...blahblah...arrogant and condescending...blahblah...but really are just must better...blahblah...elven sex ritual...blahblah...only cantelopes, never stonefruit...blahblah...the longbow, the longsword, and the war spatula...blahblah..."
* * *
Wren takes up the book and thumbs through it.
Perception
After Wren summarizes the conversation Kawrock nods. "I'm starting to think our new friend isn't what she appears to be, or she is just a tad insane. Either way we should keep an eye on her."
While Wren thumbs through the book, Eldon cast detect magic to check it for magic.
He also scans the house an its immediate area for traces of magic.
Nothing magic here. Wren reads through the book. A lot of poetry about gallant knights, true love, and the other stuff Taldans seem to enjoy so much.
Eldon also sneaks a peek at the contents of the book. Something which he has difficulty doing, considering the height difference between Wren and himself. After he's jumped up and down a couple of times he starts frowning. "This doesn't seem like the kind of thing Brodur would read... Actually, I wonder if he can read..."
"Who do you suppose it belonged to, Ellsa? Guess we could ask her."
As everyone keeps discussing Arval looks more and more tired.
"Are we almost done yet?"