OOC:
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I believe it is two votes extended rests, two for a short rest and one either way. I'll say the PCs take the extended rest than, since the party seems leaning more in that direction
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The party spend the rest of day gathering supplies for their journey away from Marais d'Tarascon. The villagers seem eager to help them free of charge, thankful for what they have done for them. Luc continues to follow them around, but he has fallen silent, spouting no more nonsensical verses.
All through the day storm clouds hover over the village, just as they have for days. Thunder booms on occasion, followed by a flash of lightning, but otherwise this day is as dark and dismal as those preceding it. Still no rain
comes.
After a good rest at the inn, the party is awaken to the sounds of music and the smells of food. The noise barely drowns out sound of thunder that shakes the village. As you look out the window you see the lightning dancing wildly across the sky, casting stark shadows in its skittering flash. Then the rain begins, falling in large, foul drops that soon become a deluge. The streets quickly turn to mud; small streams form in the cracks and depressions. Vision out the window obscured by the unending sheets of dark water. Through it all, the thunder continues to roll above the village, and the lightning intensifies. The storm has arrived.
You move down to the inn's common room, which is in stark contrast to the outside. You are greeted by what seems like the whole town. They clap and cheer at your arrival. Many, including Gremin, the blacksmith and even Fiora come and congratulate you for ridding the town of the killer. A see a delicious feast covering a large table and the mugs seem to be overflowing with fine drink. As the merriment goes on, all thoughts of the storm are wafted away from your mind. You enjoy yourself immensely.
As the night goes on the villagers start to dance and two beautiful young women sweep up Sir ExSixTen and Jax by the hand and start to dance around the room with them. Dorn, Andras and Brenn, sitting in the far corner, laugh at this sight. The three are being entertained by a slightly tipsy Fiora, who is telling embarrassing tales about the younger members of the community.
The only townspeople who don't seem to be enjoying themselves is the cleric Brucian, who is sitting sulkily in the corner, and Luc, who is staring blankly in a chair at a table.
As the night goes on Luc begins to mutter something, slowly and quietly, but with greater intensity and volume as the hours go by. This time they are not nonsensical however, now they seem to match the verses you found on the old scroll.
The light of the sky shining over the dead Shall gutter and fail, turning all to red. The night of evil shall descend on the land When this hexad of signs is near at hand. In the house of Daegon the sorcerer born Through life, unlife, unliving shall scorn. The lifeless child of stern mother found Heralds a time, a night of evil unbound. Seventh time the son of suns doth rise To send the knave an eternity of cries. Inajira will his fortunes reverse And all shall live with dreaded curse.
It becomes harder and harder to ignore the booming thunder outside and Luc's verses. Suddenly Brucian speaks up.
I have a story to tell you all, the cleric begins.
I do not think the worst is over in Marais d'Tarascon.
He describes the stormy night on which Jean brought Marcel to him about a month ago. Marcel was quite dead, torn apart by undead hands.
I
retrieved the ritual ingredients from my small collection and attempted to raise poor Marcel, Brucian continues
, but something went wrong. Marcel remained dead, and Jean cried out in anguish. He spirited away the corpse of his brother. That was the last I saw of Marcel, and the last time I saw Jean alive.
I did not know what my failed miracle wrought; but I have suspected all along that some undead agency has been at work in his village...Until now, I thought that Marcel fell victim to the same agency as the other villagers. Now I realize that the trouble began after Marcel died—and not a moment before. I don't know what that means, but I am sure the events are connected...
Suddenly there is a scream and three people fall out of there chairs, dead. A moment later they rise up unnaturally, their skin and strange hew and their eyes glazed over, just like what happened in the inn a night before. Reacting quickly Gremin pulls out his pistol and with a bang fires it, killing one of the undead. The second lunges over and grabs Luc, but Brenn's arrow sails towards it slaying it before it can make away with the boy. With a zing Andras fires his own bow, felling the last.
Luc quietly starts to recite a new verse, one not on the scroll:
Look for the scroll where the old rest fine,
behind the stone where six stars shine.
The finding, however, will cause much pain,
beware the time of the falling rain.
Suddenly the door to the inn bursts open. A villager, the grave-keeper Jax and Dorn saw when they first came to the town, soaked to the bone rushes into the common room. He is out of breath and obviously very frightened. The dead are approaching Marais d'Tarascon! he manages to say between shivers and coughs. An army of the walking dead! The man succumbs to a racking fit of coughs, and all he can manage in response to
questions is to point toward the southern fields. Gremin and Brucian rush outside, followed by the party and Luc. They make their way through the pounding, slimy rain like blind men.
You can barely see a foot in front of you unless lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the area. Even then, the houses and trees are nothing more than vague shapes obscured by a shimmering curtain of rain. Walking is difficult, for the dirt paths have become muddy and slick.
Finally, you reach the southern path. The fields beyond remain hidden by darkness and the storm. Peels of thunder and the driving rain muffle nearly every sound. Then, in a spectacular crack of lightning, the figures come into view from the far distance, illuminated by the lightning; dark forms moving slowly toward the village. They look like misshapen humans. A flash of lightning illuminates the entire field. The dark shapes are everywhere! The closest are but 100 feet away, shambling forward. Darkness returns. It seems as if an eternity passes, or maybe just a heartbeat, and then a brilliant flash lights the sky. Now you can see the figures clearly, if only for a second. They are zombies, a literal army of them, and they are marching on Marais d'Tarascon!
Hurry, we must set up barricades! Gremin shouts to the party. Help me arm the villagers and set up a defensive line! he says, in the background you can hear Luc chanting the new verse over and over.
No, find Marcel's body! Brucian shouts adding his voice to Luc's. I am certain that it holds the key to the terrors which have befallen us! We can keep the town safe, you have a more pressing job to attend to!
GM: | The party has taken an extended rest.
It is now total darkness and the party will need a light source. | |