Alexa flexes her fingers and tenses up.
"...is it gone?"
Aberus gaped at the small pile of tattered, rotting clothing, and the dagger, all that remained of the decaying dwarf.
"What...?" he started to ask, but then shook his head and turned to face his companions instead. "Uriel?"
Arloric frowns at the monster, even as it fully dies.
"Does anyone know what that thing was?"
The elf will cast detect magic.
Aberus looked to the spot where the dwarf once stood. "That was a huecuva. A cleric punished by their god, damned to unlife for their sins. Whatever this dwarf did, it was profane enough to draw the personal attention of Torag." Gesturing to the scribblings on the walls, he added, "Perhaps these writings will tell us something about that."
"I was tryin' to read them," Arloric says. "I got as far as figuring out it was Dwarven before that thing rose up and attacked us."
He takes another look at the writing, trying to make out just what it's saying.
"I don't suppose any of us speak Dwarven?"
"I don't speak it fluently, but I know enough of it to make a guess," Arloric replies. "After all, it was the duty of Acolytes of the Green Faith to serve as neutral arbiters and diplomats between the clans of Old Sarkoris. If I want to follow in their footsteps, I need to understand the people I negotiate with."
Uriel coughs a bit, but recovers quickly enough. "I think I'm alright. Well enough to continue, though some healing wouldn't be amiss later" he says "Mostly, I'm just glad to see that abomination vanquished. Such things cannot be allowed to continue to exist."
Arloric you manage to piece the words together as best you can, and you deduce the meaning of the paragraph. It's a short vague prayer. This priest was angry with his god over something not mentioned and blamed Torag for a need to commit suicide. It didn't go very well.
The magic holding the undead here is dwindling away from the pile of dust. However, there are two glowing auras belonging to potions.
"He was praying to the All-Father in anger. He wanted to kill himself and blamed Torag for it. So...Torag punished him after he took his own life."
He rubs the back of his neck as he thinks.
Aberus looked grim as Arloric spoke. "Torag values honor. I suspect that whatever history is behind this, the dwarf brought upon himself."
He stared at the remains in silence, letting this sink in before changing the subject. "Uriel has been hurt. Is anyone else injured? My healing magic is nearly spent, but I think I can manage one or two more."
Arloric sheathes his sword.
"I'm fine...you think we could use some of the holy water in that font up front to at least sponge this blasphemy out? Torag may not be my god, but he's as worthy of respect as your Sun-Sister or Uriel's Wrath-Father."
Aberus looked a little uneasy. "I can't say that I've ever used holy water for scrubbing. We should ask Ithilwen to try her spell, first."
"I would agree with Aberus. It should be simple to magically clean the Dwarf-father's walls, rather than using consecrated water."
Arloric gives them a confused look.
"What if there's lingering evil after the blood's gone? The idea is to wash of the blood AND the evil."
Are you going to clean the place up?
It's pretty messy and will take at least 8 hours of work, so sayeth the module. But it's not just cleaning. There are prayer and rituals as well, and that requires a Knowledge Religion check at DC 20. There's a +5 bonus if any of you worship Torag.
Holding up a hand, Uriel says "Hang on a minute." and pauses for three rounds to perform the full-length Detect Evil on the graffiti.
Holding up a hand, Uriel says "Hang on a minute." and pauses for three rounds to perform the full-length Detect Evil on the graffiti.
My GM would have used this as an opportunity for some kind of prank like having the letter explode or rearrange themselves to means something gross. But, the only thing evil about those words were the tone and intentions they were used. This priest had the nerve to protest to his god and then stick a knife in his heart. That's evil, but these letters are not threatening.
The dwarf father's shrine should be salvaged. Light shines in the darkness
Aberus shook his head slightly. "That's not how it works. What we are talking about here is really consecration. While there are spells that can do this, they are beyond what I am capable of and even then would only allow me to infuse the temple with my patron's power. I don't think Sarenrae would appreciate a temple underground." He smirked at this, and then added, "To consecrate this temple in Torag's name, then, means doing things by hand. That requires more than just cleaning: prayer and ritual are equally important. It is a lengthy process. Whether the dirt is cleaned with spells or water is irrelevant, but if we can avoid using the holy water for that purpose I think it would be best. At worst, we may need that water for drinking."
He looked around at the walls, and took a couple of steps towards the altar, taking in the staleness, the air of despair, and the filth. "It would take several hours. The better part of what remains of the day. I know the process; we all learned as a matter of course but none of us ever expected to have to do it. And to do so in Torag's name would not be easy for me since I would be...improvising. If any of you or our injured companions are knowledgeable in matters of faith, or better yet a follower of Torag, that would help. Considerably."
He turned around to face the group. "We should consider the consequences of doing this, however. As I said, it would mean a delay of hours. We are all eager to get to the surface after what has happened, as the people of the city need help, and there are people up that that I--that we--care about. And though while I am sure we all ate well at the festival, I do not as a matter of course carry food and water with me wherever I go. We are going to go hungry down here if we stay." He looked worried at this.
"On the other hand, I was also not prepared for this. Like any other day, my spells were chosen for the general needs of a cleric of Sarenrae's temple. I have nearly exhausted my magic for healing, and what little remains cannot be used in battle because it does not discriminate between friend or foe--this is not something we ever needed in the temple. At some point, no matter what is happening above, it may be too dangerous for us to continue. It's also possible that restoring this place may attract Torag's attention. That should not be the reason, of course, but it is a possibility to consider."
My GM would have used this as an opportunity for some kind of prank like having the letter explode or rearrange themselves to means something gross.
No evil detected, Uriel rejoins the conversation. "I sense no evil in this place. The words are merely words, whatever the vehemence behind them. It would take hours to clean them by hand, and let us not forget why we are here. Something terrible is going on on the surface, and we need to find a way to return and help where we can." Uriel says, eager to escape this place and take the fight to the evil that dared befoul Kenabres.
Arloric sighs and rubs the back of his neck.
"I am almost out of spells myself. I don't want that to be a reason we never make it to the surface at all. All of us have wounds from the fighting, or from the fall, and in my opinion, the more gods we have on our side, the better. We're not an army, it's not like us making it up there faster will turn the tide for Kenabres."
"...I don't like it, to be honest." Alexa finally speaks up. "But we need the rest if we are to succeed. We may as well fix this temple up as best we can while we're at it."
...stay safe, Miles. Please, for our sake.
"My tricks are just that – tricks. I can help, but as Aberus said, it's faith and prayer that can restore this shrine to its former glory" says Ithilwen waving a hand over the graffiti, slowly but surely making centuries of dust dissipate into thin air.
She nods despondently at Arloric's reasoning. "As sad as it is to say, I believe the greatest contribution we can make to the Crusades right now... is staying alive" she claims, laying a jet-black, sympathetic hand on Alexa' shoulder.
"Well, so far that is five in favor of staying here, including myself, and one against. Though we should still ask the others out of fairness." Aberus lowered his voice before asking, "Does anyone wish to have the honor of raising the question to Mr. Gwerm?"
Taking a long breath, then blowing it back out, Uriel dips his head a little. "Maybe we won't turn the tide. But maybe we would. We won't know if we don't try. But perhaps you're right. We've asked all we can of our patrons to get this far, and a rest would beneficial. I will respect the majority decision." he sighs and glances around. Seeing the graffiti again, he turns back to the group. "If we're going to be here for a while, we may as well get to work. Does anyone have a cloth?"
Arloric tears two strips off his cloak and offers one to Uriel.
"My Druidic magic can mend the cloak, don't worry."
He follows the instructions of the more religious party members like Uriel and Aberus, hoping the Forge Father will look kindly on non-believers tending to his sacred space.
Aberus watched as everyone busied themselves in response to his question. "That's pretty much what I thought," he smirked, then turned around and walked out to the vestibule.
"Lady Anevia, Sir Aravashniel, Sir Horus. Though we have not been trapped in these caverns for very long, the near-constant skirmishes, including one with a huecuva just now, have expended nearly all of our resources. We must take time to rest and recover if we are to make it back to the surface alive." Aberus felt exhausted and he let some of that come through in his voice. "I believe we are safe here, in the temple to Torag, now that the foul spirit is gone."
Arloric hums and sings a bit in Druidic as he works.
Horus Gwerm only grumbles.
"I better be safe. You'd think they'd have built a better wall or something. All these demons... anevia just stared at him and scowled while Aravashnial just calmly glided to one of the pews and laid his slender elven body down.
"Maybe we should set up watches?" Anevia asked.
"Yes. Yes, we should. I will speak to the others." He started to walk away, then hesitated and turned back to face his injured companions. "Would either of you happen to be students of theology? Or knowledgeable in religious matters? We are attempting to clean and reconsecrate this place to Torag while we are here, but my patron is the Dawnflower. I am..." He paused, unsure how to phrase this. "I am a little out of my element and could use some help."
"Take heart, Lord Gwerm," Arloric says as he works.
"You're in a shrine to the Dwarf-Father. No wall more solid than his. And if we clean this place up a bit, he may cast his eye upon it again and watch over us."
Anevia shook her head.
"Not I," said the elf. Then a strange sound alerted him and he turned towards it. "Is that Horgus Gwerm snoring?" He asked. With a sigh,he realized that the rich man had already fallen asleep.
Aberus blinked in astonishment at Horgus's sleeping form. "Well, at least one of us will get some rest."
He turned around to face Arloric and the others. "Anevia has suggested that we set up watches, which sounds sensible to me. I am not an expert on such things, though, so if someone can organize it I am happy to take a turn."
As a caster, I will need at least 8 hours of meditation, since elves do not sleep, rest, if I am to regain my spells.
Whether she sleeps or not, she still needs the 8 hours so doing first or last would be best.
Arloric nods at Telerin.
"I'll need to pray to regain my own magic. Fortunately, there is no greater shrine to the earth than the earth itself."
He turns to begin dusting off one of the pews.
"I'll need to pray in the morning as well," Aberus said, then grinned. "Though I suspect I'll be doing quite a bit of that over the next few hours, too. Uriel, if you'd be willing to help with some of the rituals, I might stand a better chance of getting this right."
Let's see those bones rolled.
It's totally worth it, I promise!
Uriel nods to Aberus. "I'll do what I can, though Torag is never a deity I've had much familiarity with."
Arloric nods.
"None of us are, Uriel, but I think he'll smile on us all the same."
Arloric continues working, waiting for direction from the others.