Valley of the Dead: Chapter 2 "Home of the sleepless"

[Shayuri]

Mei-Ying's eyebrows lifted as she perceived that underneath Ferviel's admirable perception and grasp of the situation ran a deep current of cynicism. It was perhaps inevitable, she reflected, as Ferviel was not merely a holy man but also a warrior. From her time among the monks, she remembered vividly that all of the old ones, all the Masters, who knew practices and techniques that would kill with a touch and pierce the hardest armor...they were all men of peace, even pacifists. She had often wondered at how men who trained as warriors could become so. Ferviel was a hint of an answer. A life of war made you like the great monks...who had found peace within...or like Ferviel, who no longer believed in peace.

It was a little sad, but nothing she had the power to change.

As for the current situation, it seemed simple enough. A magic barrier sealed most of the undead in the valley. Now it seemed something was trying to goad them...the only ones able to open the barrier...into removing it.

"Anything that can command undead like that will be powerful," she remarks. "beings of power sometimes find it difficult to hide, if one knows how to look. I believe we will have to return to the farm to pick up the trail."

 

[Myth and Legend]

The cleric looks at the group with a solemn expression and retorts with his usual gruff voice.

"Going back to the farm is pointless and anyone straying from the camp after dark is dangerous. Don't mistake my meaning - your main task is still the security of this force and the participation in the expedition to the Valley. I might even be wrong, the dead things might have found another way to leave the Valley, who knows... I just wanted you all to be on your guard and to be wary of deceit. I want to know what's going on and stop people from disappearing and turning up dead. Dark nercromancers don't bother me over much unless they mess with the simple folk. We haven't had any around here though - the Baron's men and the various Temples would be too meddlesome for such pursuits of magical study."

He looks at the stone and the amulet and scratches his short blond hair. "I've no idea what that stone is but it looks too eerie for a child to draw on her own. The amulet, I think I might have something on it but you'll have to leave it here and I'll have to consult some books. It will take time, and that's something I don't have in abundance right now."

Ferviel nods as he produces his own holy symbol made of gold and begins chanting, while sprinkling the diamond dust on the dead body:

"Lathander, Lord of Morning, God of the Sun, Bringer of Light, Patron of Youth, Father of Redemption, I call upon Thee to return this woman, Adelaide Swiftblade, back to us, so that she may yet walk her path and serve her purpose, so that she may know the joy of many more mornings to come and so that she may spread thine own radiance amongst her fellow men."

As he chants, bright light erupts from his eyes and palms, much like the one that came from Geryk when he smote the undead. This light however, seems to move as if it were mist blown by the wind, or strips of silk floating trough the air. It brushes Adelaide and covers her, returning colour to her cheeks and lifting her body a few inches from the ground. The paladin's back twists in an abrupt arch and she wheezes in a breath of air as her eyes stare blankly at the ceiling of the tent.

Ferviel stops his chanting, the light fades and there is no trace of the diamonds. Adelaide looks about with confusion, her cheeks a bit hollow, her eyes with dark bags underneath them, but otherwise alive and of seemingly sound health.

"Wh... what is going on?" She looks about with confusion. "Dawnbringer Ferviel. And... Thok? Wh... where am I? Who are the rest of you?"

Ferviel sighs and gets up. "You're lucky I know your father, girl. Now lay still, your wounds are still dire." He produces a wand from a satchel on his belt and blue light washes over his hands and onto Adelaide. He turns to face the group.

"You lot, how prepared are you for another van mission tomorrow? I have some trinkets with me - emptied most of the worthy items from my stores and from the merchants in Angelwatch. Lathander's Temple is rich, if nothing else. Anyone need anything? I don't want any more corpses hauled back to me."

[sblock=spellcraft DC 20]Ferviel casts Raise Dead.[/sblock]

[sblock=spellcraft DC 18]Ferviel casts Vigor from a wand.[/sblock]

[sblock=OOC]@Voda Vosa @Malachei @Dragonwriter @Shayuri @Zerith @Scotley update. Where the hell is Malachei.. :/[/sblock]

 

[Zerith]

Zinerath continued with his meek manner until a moment after Ferviel had finished speaking, he mumbled something beneath his breath and then straitened back out again, reclaiming is full, merger, stature and returning to his old, if tired, self; his lower face was again meet by light and he gave a chirpily, weary answer. “I could do with a rest, a proper bath, and something to dry off with, but aside from that, I’m ready to butcher another…” he spoke as if he was talking about playing some kind of child’s game, that he just so happened to enjoy, a little too much, but his sentence stalled for a moment as he strove to find the right words, he did not want to come off as rude; he was going to say ‘Paladin slayer’ but the woman had just gotten over a rather dire case of dead. He raised his right hand to his chin in thought for a moment; inadvertently showing the shadowy vestige of his wings as the dim crimson of his eyes wandered to hers.

“… Undead hulk.” He chimed after a very brief delay before lowering his hand from his chin and darting his eyes back to Ferviel’s, Zinerath’s own then narrowed and then his brown hoooked down and scrunched together with anxiety while his lip pulled back in a similar manner into a slight frown, he trembled for a moment, and then cast his eyes downwards in defeat before making an about face and leaving the confines of Ferviel’s tent stopping outside of it, in sight and well within hearing distance.

 

[Voda Vosa]

"You can undo death? Thok impressed." The half orc muttered as the man recited the spell. He gave a step back, as the spell made effect, but as the young paladin raised and addressed him, Thok gave a few steps forward. He loved his name. "Thok, yes. Thok glad you ..." the orkish warrior strugles with the common. "..good-not-dead now. Thok and these destroyed the bad-not-dead in your honour. It might have been little anticipated."

Thok gives a look at Ferviel, "Thok could take a looky, perhaps something to protect Thok against bad-not-deads"

 

[Dragonwriter]

Rufus watches the ritual intently. When Adelaide rises again and begins asking questions, he smiles. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Lady Paladin. Name's Rufus."

He faces Ferviel and shrugs. "I'm up for more tomorrow. Any of your trinkets capable of warding off Shadows and the like, or mitigating their touch?"

 

[Zerith]

[FONT=&quot]Zinerath looked upwards at the rapidly darkening sky before he spat beneath his breath “ideal reflections are worthless.” Before returning to the tent and again looking Ferviel in the eye.
[FONT=&quot] his lip tugged momentarily to the side in a twitch before his face become bare of any notable emotion[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] “I do not like the idea of having to face more shadows, or other apparitions, that can’t be harmed by my weapons, do you have anything that can reliably smite such undead? I’d prefer something I can wield with both hands; perhaps something with some weight like a Greataxe or Falchion?” he asked flatly, he would not have denied that his true preference was fore another scythe, but he doubted the cleric would have a ghost slaying scythe on hand.[/FONT][/FONT]
[FONT=&quot][/FONT]​

 

[Shayuri]

"I have not seen many objects of power in these lands," Mei-Ying said curiously. "I'm not entirely sure which among your collection would suit me best. If I might have a chance to briefly inspect them before deciding?"

 

[Scotley]

"Anything you could spare would be put to good use. There are several crystals that enhance weapons or armor which could aid our cause, anything that might help with divination could help us with that mystery. I would very much have like to have been able to speak to the dead at the farm in hope of finding more answers. I knew a priest many years ago who had a belt of priestly might which both protected him from harm and enhanced his strength in battle. There are rods which could enhance my spell casting in a variety of ways that could benefit us."

 

[Malachei]

Lórquelië remained silent. The neutral expression of the noble elf did not betray the turmoil that was inside her. There was something here that felt familiar, in a bad way. The thought hurt her, and her hand was clenched, unable to extend itself. When she saw the cleric return their comrade from the lands beyond, Lórquelië felt in part sadness, and in part hope. For my kind, death is not the solution, she thought.

She brought herself to agree with the orc warrior, and chime in, "Indeed, impressed, as well." The orc who called himself Thok had risen in her eyes, perhaps because he had fought bravely, or perhaps because they had a demon-child in their small band now, and orcish blood was the lesser of two evils.

Turning to the paladin, she calmly spoke, "I am glad that you return, and have your seven heavens wait for you. Coming back must be a sacrifice, I understand, and I thank you for it." Paladins and their heroic deeds... perhaps they were so eager to take risks because they firmly believed that the world that awaited them beyond was so much more pleasant than the one we had to cope with here. The Noldorin shrugged. That was no concern to her, and her people, whose custom was to retreat to the fabled lands of Everaska.

Turning to the others, she added, "A lesson we learn is to stay close. We could have saved her if we had." It was as much directed to the reckless paladin, and just to make sure, she whispered, "Be more careful next time."

..........

When Ferviel steered talk to the tasks at hand, Lórquelië listened carefully. She did not know about military tactics of men, but what would an orc and a demon-child know about planning, and strategy? She had seen the impulsive nature that was in them, from their blood. She could not help but wonder what the Dawnbringer thought when he looked at this little band. "So, Dawnbringer, we are the vanguard, I presume?"

[sblock=OOC]

I'll talk about items in my next post, I felt it somewhat... ungrateful... to experience raise dead and a magic item bargain in one post.

[/sblock]

 

[Myth and Legend]

Ferviel nods and starts rummaging trough his chest. "Eh, I have a bills of purchase from Roland and Germa but my personal stores are not categorized. I have Bags of Holding stuffed with trinkets I've collected over the years. Best put them to use now, I meant to equip those who are of worth from the start. The Temple will compensate me anyway."

Ferviel rummages trough his pockets and hands Mei-Yin and Lórquelië a detailed scroll with prices and purchased equipment listed.

[sblock]The scroll details nearly the whole inventory of what one would assume can be found in a town the size of Angelwatch. See the OOC thread for details.[/sblock]

"Let me see what I can find for you boys. Geryk since you're a member of the Temple I'm holding you responsible for the items I bestow on the group. If they turn up sold instead of put to use it's on your head, got it?" The cleric starts rummaging trough the adamantine chest.

Adelaide's wounds begin closing, aided by Ferviel's magic. She still seems confused about her situation.

"I...I died? - she blushes and clenches her fist. - Thank you for retrieving my body, truly. I owe you a debt. And to you Dawnbringer, I am sincerely grateful for bringing me from the afterlife. I have a chance to redeem my honour now!"

She seems frustrated but determined. She smiles at Rufus and her cheeks redden even more. Then Lórquelië passes her comment and the paladin lights up bright-red and casts her eyes downward.

While still going trough the chest, Ferviel speaks.

"Yeah, you are the vanguard. You two are the only arcanists we have right now, Geryk is the next in rank after me as far as clergy goes and the lads with the swords have proven to be good at swinging them I suppose. Galen chose them, I don't know. Well I've seen the half-orc swing a blade at Bolgirm and live to tell the tale, so that's something at least."

He then pauses and turns back.

"Crap! Bolgrim and his boys are at the rear and haven't reported yet. Let's get you your gear, I need to check why they have not reported yet!"