Kregor wiped his cheek with his free hand. The mucus from the thing’s tongue seemed to resist faintly as he wiped it away. He sheathed his sword, bowed his head, and thanked Gragnor for granting him the strength he needed to keep the beast from descending upon the village. Then Kregor turned back to the way he came from and called out to the others.
"It's over."
Selanil nearly dropped to his knees in the murky water, overcome by fatigue and his wounds. Only his grip on the spear held him up. He staggered to a wall, leaning against it for support.
“Monster gone?" asked Glom, who was about to collapse from the effort of the battle. He remembered the creature's tongue around him and shuddered in fear.
Horsom had been splashing forward, his guttering torch casting strange and forbidding shadows on the walls of the tomb. He had stopped suddenly when he heard the rumble of Kregor's voice up ahead, ripples spreading from him like portents of what lay ahead. The constant dripping muffled the priest's speech, but the silence which followed spoke volumes. Then those words, etched in his mind forever: "I will not forget you!"
Horsom had staggered as the air around him groaned, burdened with an impossible weight, and then had suddenly seemed to stretch into eternity. Stretched and…tore…opening into a realm of madness.
He gasped in horror, but by then it was over. He could feel that the Hisser was gone. Whatever the strange servant of the Elder Gods had been, it had lost its body. Disincorporated, it had been forced back into the Far Pit. Shaken, he strode on once more, and was relieved to find Kregor, Glom, Selanil, and Dain, wounded but alive. They could have been far worse for wear.
"We should search this tomb,” Horsom said. “Who knows if any of its minions remain? First though, we should get Fellan…You might have heard him calling to us a few minutes ago. Hopefully he's really here and that wasn't just another of the creature's tricks." He eyed the rest of the group, noting the numerous wounds many of them were sporting. "Some of you should avail yourselves of the potions we secured from the Archdeacon."
"I agree with making sure this place is clear of other dangers but we must rest and heal first,” Kregor replied. “We prevailed against that abomination but I am not so certain that we would all survive any further hostilities."
Kregor looked at his companions as they gathered near where the beast fell. He surveyed them and tried to determine who was the most wounded. Between the skeletal ghouls and the abomination, everyone looked rather grim, even where there were no obvious wounds.
Still, Selenil seemed worst off. "May Gragnor grant me the power to heal your wounds for the good dead you have performed today," Kregor said, laying hands upon the elf. He then moved to the next most wounded person and continues.
(You may decide who to heal & roll the dice.)
Upon finishing his healing, he turned to Horsom.
"I too would like to find out what this beast’s lair consists of. However, we are wounded and I think that we would be better served to wait until tomorrow to venture any further. Besides, the water gets deeper as we travel further down the path. We must figure a way to empty these halls of the water. It will not be easy otherwise."
Horsom itched to proceed right now, but knew it was wiser to continue as a group. "Let's rest up and handle this tomorrow then. Let's board up the entrance and place my warning stone on the seal."
He peered down the flooded corridor, eager to explore this ancient Esk tomb. Now that the imminent danger had passed, his thoughts turned to the marvels and secrets such an ancient construction could reveal. He wished that his friend Corvo were here to share in the discovery.
“No doubt the tomb flooded when the stream was dammed for the mill,” Dain said. “Draining the pond might dry it out, if the villagers will allow it. Else, we might build some form of pump.” The dwarf grinned. “Flooded chambers are a problem my folk have faced in the past!”
When they were all gathered in the first chamber again, it seemed that Fellan's voice had been another illusion, a hallucination thrown by the creature to distract and confuse them. Had it been a real, audible sound? Or had the creature merely projected Fellan's voice into their minds?
Still, the chamber was not so deep that they could not boost a light character up to the edge. Up Glom went. Down came the rope. Soon, they were all above ground, sopping wet in the moonlight. It was still Spring. Although the night was not excessively cold, their wet clothing chilled them.
The sky, though, was clear and full of stars. The village seemed, for the first time, truly peaceful.
