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Archer looked up sharply.

"Who is John?" He asked dangerously, eyes narrowing.

This was an interesting turn of events, most definitely. Whoever this John fellow was could be very important, it all just depended on how the boy answered, and the mannerisms he portrayed when he did.

He turned to look at Iraco, a question in his gaze.

After a few awkward attempts, Rae and Xepil manage to figure out how to work together to see into the passage. Her forearms prop on top of the narrow bottom ledge as she peers into the darkness.

She stares and listens, and listens and stares until interrupted by John's question. "Ah, nah, nae much," she replies as she turns slightly in his direction. "Tight spot. Bags could nae be carried - have ta be pushed or pulled along. Worst of it is the ceilin' though, 'tis a mangled up mass o' sticks n' roots. Lights'll hafta be left 'less yeh wanna turn it inta yehr own pyre..."

"Oof, grrrrgg.." Xepil struggled as he kept Rae upright on his shoulders.

"No big deal bout the torches, grrrggg.. we can just.. grrrr.. use Galinea's lantern to light the way. Grrr!"

"Sheesh! You are heavy for being so short! Grr!"

"Are we all going through?" Galiena asked, holding her lantern up to trade for Rae's torch if she wanted and steeling herself for crawling through the claustrophobic tunnel.


((Everyone in the tomb please make a wisdom/perception check with your next post.))

---

Iraco shrugged when Archer looked to him. "Beats me," the other hunter said. "Must be one of them adventurers."

Josh looked away, struggling to come up with answer that kept him out of further trouble and, strangely enough, a desire to keep John and the others out of trouble as well.

"Yes, Iraco... one of the adventurers," Lloré chimed in, not wishing to betray the others either, but maybe seeing an opportunity to change some hearts and minds. "But there is nothing nefarious here. He saw the boy hadn't had much of a square meal lately. They are good people... trying to find a way to defeat the hound.... for all of us."

"Wait a second... Done with the drawing. Hobgoblin, do you think the darts and spears are usable in here? I might be able to cast a spell before, it might be more difficult inside."

"Graahahah! Of course not!" Xepil laughed as he clambered up the tunnel, dragging his equipment. "That's what the trusty scalping knife is for, grrrr, but honestly I hope we don't get waylaid in there. I hate having to fight while prone, grrrr. Also this is probably a bad time to mention that I'm borderline claustrophobic, grrr..." Despite his confession for hating cramped spots, the Hobgoblin still fearlessly went in there with a long combat knife in hand just in case.

Rae laughs a bit maniacly as she gives a few unnecessary bounces on Xepil's shoulders after his compliment on her weight. "Aye! Wha' di' ya think? That we dwarves was light an' airy like the spindly elvish lot, eh? Nae, we're thick an' heavy like the stone from whence we was hewn!"

She gladly trades the torch for the lantern at this point and climbs halfway into the tunnel. "I dunnae ken..." she replies to Galiena's question before the Hobgoblin comes scrambling up. "Fightin' any uglies'll be easier in the open than up here - hardly even room fer weapons. Whaddya think?"

Galiena wasn't thrilled about the idea of all of them being squeezed into the tunnel, particularly before they even knew if it went anywhere. Maybe it was simply some kind of vent to keep moisture from building up in the tomb?

But she wasn't particularly keen on being left behind either. And if someone got hurt, she needed to be there to patch them back up. "I guess we could leave the torch over here," she says, going to set it into one of the bronze braziers on the north side of the room.

As Rae and the Hobgoblin go into the narrow and cramped tunnel, they find it only goes back about 10 feet before turning to the right.

"You think you can pull me up, Xepil?" the cleric asks, taking off her pack and handing it up.

"Sure, grrr.." Says Xepil as he lowers a hand down to lift Galiena. "Fortunately Rae managed -not- to dislocate both my shoulders with her unnecessary bouncing, grrr." The Hobgoblin still obviously sore from carrying the dwarf.

"Forget about the tunnel. There's something coming from the stairs."
He unsheathes his dagger, prepares an offensive spell and says in direction of the stairs :
"State name and business!"
With a bit of luck it's just another adventurer. And even if it's an unknown creature, it already seems to know we're here.

Archer's eyes hardened.

"Good people get killed in this world." He said stiffly. "That's what my people of Uztar have taught me. The goodness of your gods-damned heart doesn't save you." He looked off to where Shara had flown, but she hadn't yet returned.

"I swear upon the ghost eagle, if those bloody adventurers did anything to my falcon, I'll rip their limbs off one by one."

Rae begins to get a bit more excited about the tunnel at the discovery of the turn. "Oh, hey! D'yeh ken it'll take us round t' the north?" she questions of Xepil. "S'pose we should tell the other two."

With Xepil now ahead of her and offering a hand up to Galiena, Rae has difficulty in clearly hearing John's warning. "Nah, nah, tell 'im the tunnel migh' turn 'round t' the north!" she excitedly instructs Xepil. "'Sides, he's the one tha' don' wanna head south t' the entrance anyway."

(Welcome AdoniVae!)

The trek here has been rather dismal and grey. A cold mist hangs on the valley floors, clouds pile atop the craggy bluffs. At night, wolves howled in the distance. And during the day, the only company seems to be ravens that circle overhead.

But finally, the wooded moors give way to mist-laden fields. Ahead, up the narrow track, stands the village of Hirot. The village is defended by a low earthen rampart topped with a wooden palisade. Behind the village, a causeway rises to a great hall resting atop a craggy ridge. Black hearth-smoke hangs forlornly over the village, as if even the smoke were too frightened to venture beyond the village walls.

A solitary figure at the gate sounds a long mournful horn, declaring the rider's approach to all.

---

Lloré clamped his mouth shut again, looking at Archer with troubled eyes. He knew the other man was speaking of his mentor, who the hound had claimed, but the bard could not seem to find a way to get past the walls the hunter had put up. He furrowed his brow and tried again, softer this time, "It is not their fault Barrow is gone."

The two guards pushed Lloré northward again then, following the path the bird had taken.

And soon, both Iraco and Archer would realize where the trail was leading... right to the haunted tomb of the Ulfheonar, the ancient warlord.

---

In the Tomb...


No words answer John's challenge, but something that used to be a human descends the three stairs into the chamber, reaching its fingernails that have grown into claws out toward the cleric that Xepil is pulling upwards to the tunnel over the doorway.

((John's got time to get off either a spell or an attack if you want since he heard it coming and has it prepared.))

The damp ground leave prints of my boots in it, along with my horse's. I take her to a stable and tie her up, giving the owner a small pouch of gold to hold her for my stay. 'This place seems to be a bit more gloomy than I remember...' I think to myself as I walk the dirt path. The houses all look the same to me, still stout and deprived of any color. I remember tales of an old witch, people too scared to even mention her in conversation. I wonder if she is still breathing? I kind of hope not, she gave me chills as a kid.
I snap to my senses only to realize I had stopped in the middle of the path. Quickly, I avert any oncoming traffic and stand by a wooden support pole. I wonder to myself, 'Where could they be..?' as I remember them vaguely, I still remember their voice and the tricks we played as children. Some people looked at me, most with curiosity, but others with an unknown desire. Possibly insulted I come here, maybe they are used to keeping to themselves. I walk into an old looking building with a title, The Three Rats. "Ah! I remember you!" I hushedly say to myself and the building. I know the people who come here very well, and I used to work with them. I open its door and look around. "I'm looking for Jenks," I say loudly, hoping someone would hear me. The smell of this place is oddly familiar, heh, it smells like home.

It seemed to be a recently killed undead, compared to the lich and revenants he had heard about. In both cases, still horrible, flesh-eating creatures.
"It's an undead! Hob, in your back!"
Almost instinctively, he threw the already prepared yet quite malformed projectile in the creatures direction, aiming for the body mass.

((Caster roll not needed for the spell! Just a saving throw for the ghoul...))

---

Hirot is definitely gloomier than when Vilod left. Many buildings seem abandoned, some with obvious marks of violence: shattered doors and walls scarred by massive talons. There are less people too.

The Three Rats, though, is much unchanged. It's as rat and flea-ridden as ever. Though even here, there are a few less people around than there should be.

A familiar heavy-set man turns around from the bar as she enters, looking as if he's about to tell someone to get lost. But his eyes widen when he sees who it is. "Shades! Vilod! Where the hells you been?" It's Catkins, one of Master Jenks crew.

Another, Oleen the Imp, a short man with wildly unkempt hair, pops up from where he's been sleeping on top of the gaming table... probably passed out there drunk last night. "What? What're you on about, Cat? Ha! Look at this!" he exclaims when he catches sight of Vilod. "I told ya she weren't dead!"

John's arcane projectile slams into the ghoul, shearing off its left arm all the way up to the shoulder. It seems to shift about in its gray, lifeless skin, still reaching for Galiena with the claws on its right hand...

"What!!?" Hearing John screaming about Undead, Xepil's first move was to toss Galiena out of the way. He grasped her hand firmly and threw her away from where he could see the ghoul reaching for her. First things first, protect the healer!

"Rae! Cover wizard boy! Grrr! I'm going back down!"

The ghoul's claws rake harmlessly against the cleric's armor as Xepil tosses her several feet back into the chamber, where she lands a bit ungracefully, but hurries back to her feet as the creature follows into the room.

((Xepil could, if he's got a weapon ready, get in an attack from above. ))

((Wellp, he does have his knife out))

Xepil phews when he sees the ghoul miss the cleric. As the ghoul passes under him, the Hob spots an attack of opportunity and takes it, swinging his knife down to stab at the ghoul's skull.