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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Manbearcat" data-source="post: 9617285" data-attributes="member: 6696971">Multiple components here:* This is the place of the mass grave.  The interior was clearly blown open by the profound southerly winds from the pyroclasm uprooting the massive tree and forcing it to slam into the structure.  They were likely to have been doomed anyway due to other aspects of exposure and fallout, but this failure of the envelope of the small church they huddled in sealed the deal.  You can see  remains, some in various states of mummified decay and others skeletal, through the interior rubble and heaps of ash and pumice.  * Maneuvering around the huge petrified tree with the sharp edges of its dead boughs which occupy much of the wall's hole is also a hazard.* The structure itself is still somewhat sturdy, but the wooden framing has more than its fair share of rot and the load-bearing walls have been compromised due to the strike and various lack of stewardship and maintenance over time.* The altar of Helm remains here.  As does whatever consecrating capacity that it has to protect these bodies from profane manipulation.  How do we know?  The work of Valindra Shadowmantle is clear here.  She must have discovered this site due to magical means and come here directly to attempt to "harvest" all of this death and suffering for her own fell purposes...and she must have been rebuffed by those powerful consecrations.  However, she didn't leave her project alone.  Her covetous intentions led her to ward the entire three dimensional boundary of the church with her profane necromancy, ensuring that...if she can't get in to get "what is rightfully hers..."well, no one else can either.  If you try to enter, you'll have to deal with that powerful enspelling first.  Presumably, she will return here once she has discovered a ritual to foil the dead (?) god of vigilance and protection's consecrations stemming from the altar within.[HR][/HR]Elsewhere, at the large lake's edge...Pritchard can hear voices from behind him.  They are vague and distant...as if not here from this time.  A slight turn of his head easily triangulates upon the well as the source.  These are voices that are captured memories of this place.  Captured internalizations and wishes, rather, at the casting of a coin down the well for luck or perhaps even portent.  With honeyed whisper, the evil god of tyranny, domination and sin, the archdevil Asmodeus, attempts to pull Pritchard from where he stands at the shore to the well.  "There must be a fortune down there.  Not just a fortune in coin, though that too, but also a fortune in the rich hopes and dreams of fools that can be harvested for powerful material purpose as this world is populated with like fools."What do you do Pritchard?</blockquote>

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