Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3282185" data-attributes="member: 11760">Tock bursts out into song, strumming his banjo as he follows, high-stepping like an imperial soldier on parade."Off we go a looting,No more growl-hooting,For the owl-bear has been slainBy men without a brainAnd a wizard frozen coldAnd a fair bard, he was so bold.So we'll take the dead thing's stuff,Because we're so very tough,And I'll leave this crappy townAll the ladies will surely frownTheir eye a winking brownWill get no more good poundsFrom their beloved Tock.They'll settle for an asshigh DocHis arm will do just fineGarl's gold shoved in their mines.But that's not here nor thereLet's just all prepareTo take our deserved crapAfter the deadly scrap."Hazel gives the bard a look as though she's going to smack him, but rolls her eyes and says nothing.The contingent heading for the owlbear den stops ate the mouth of the enlarged area and looks around for any signs of movement. Satisfied that it's pretty clear, they head toward the obvious focal point: The dead bodies."Their scent is even worse than the dwarf's," Tock gags. "My gods."Tosh kneels beside them and does a quick visual search without touching them."What do you think? Roll 'em over and check 'em out? I mean, I know it'd be poor form to just loot 'em and leave 'em, but I'm figuring we probably don't have a lot of options for doing the proper thing for them in our situation. Maybe we could make a point of getting them back to town after we bring a wagon back?" Tosh looks over to the glint of coin. "And it seems a waste to just let that lay there.""Can anyone recognize them?" Emmerson asks, "Because if they are Bridgers, I'd like to give their silver back to their families"Tosh looks at the wounded paladin with a pained expression."Ah, but you see, dear Emmerson, we can't be sure that this bag actually belonged to these poor folk. We cannot even be sure these poor folk knew each other. In which case, who's to say who the bag belonged to begin with? Indeed, if we were to take the bodies back, and found no one to recognize them, I assure you that the constabulary would be happy to charge us for dropping them in their laps." Tosh begins searching in earnest now. "It may be for the best, considering the deplorable condition of the remains, to try to find some sort of identification that may be recognizable, and inter the bodies ourselves when we come back. You could even send them off with a few words from Lothian, if you would, Emmerson."The bodies are in bad condition indeed. Whenever this trio encountered the owlbear, it was not recently, and it went very poorly for them.The first, probably male, wore a now rotten robe. Beside him is a quarterstaff with a leather hood cinched around one end, a leather tie around the hood, keeping the hood on, but able to be whisked off easily when needed.The second, probably female, wore now moldy and much-chewed leather armor. Still clutched in one hand is a longsword still in its scabbard.The third body is not human and is shorter and somewhat frailer than a dwarf, but larger and stockier than a gnome. Whatever color its skin once was cannot be discerned, as rot has turned it mostly gray. An ankle sheath and a dagger stick through the rotting woolen trousers on its remaining leg.Each also has various small pouches at their waists, and three identical metal flasks. The sack nearby is almost entirely split open along one seam, and there is the glint of gold and a little bit of platinum within.Tosh reaches for one of the flasks, intent on examining it for any conspicuous markings."Emmerson, on second thought, it might be as well to just give them their rites on the spot. I'm not sure moving them would be such a great idea. But then again, I'm not real big on religious formalities, you know."Hazel kneels beside the bodies and tries to carefully shift the rotting clothes aside to check for any cyst-like formations in the bodies, figuring Bufer would want to know."I think Tosh is right, Emmerson. Perhaps you could say a prayer for them here, and lay them out nicely?" She glances around the cavern. "I suppose we could create a small cairn to keep vermin off the bodies, but they don't seem to be in any shape to move easily."Tosh inspects the flask -- which has a thin wax seal covering a cork stopper, fat enough to be jerked out easily and a metal toad engraved on the bottom of flask -- as Hazel gives the bodies a once-over. Not only are the wounds different from those on the body of the kobolds, there do not appear to be any cysts in these three.Tosh hands the flask to the bard."Anything familiar to you?"Tosh takes the longsword, staff and dagger and places them apart from the bodies. He removes the belt pouches one at a time and examines the contents."Poor souls," Emmerson sighs. "If they were Bridgers and we wanted to sell or repair their gear, Therurt would likely recognize it and that would raise a lot of questions."He gets down to one knee, grabs his short sword and places his forehead against the handle and crosspiece, as he recites a prayer for the dead."Great Lothian, hallowed Saint Daris, you are the warriors, you have ridden alongside my friends here into battle, you have also felt their love and caring when you were wounded or lonely; ride alongside of them, for now they are in this the hardest battle for their life, the battle for inner peace. Now is the time for you to care for them. Great Lothian, from your heart all spirits have come; when they return to you, cradle them gently in your arms and allow them to join their friends in the skies. If they want to hurry themselves to you, tell them you are not ready; and they must wait, for now they can pass on peace to others." He sheathes his sword and stands. "There, I pray souls are at peace."Tosh holds up the pouches. All three of the dead have various personal effects in some of their pouches -- a lucky rabbit's foot, a plug of long-ruined chewing tobacco, a copper coin stamped with an obscene image instead of the emperor's face -- but one belt pouch from the robe-wearing man contained what were likely once spell components, including various spices, small pinches of sulfur, bits of fur and the like. A belt pouch off the shorter person contains a rusted-to-uselessness lockpick."And here we have possible means of identification," Tosh says. "Not that I'm optimistic that a rabbits foot or lewd money is a great identifier."He holds up the spell components."Renraw? This may be up your alley." With that, he tosses the pouch to the mage. He then takes the other two flasks and hands those to the bard. "Those look the same?""Yes, the toad on the bottom, see?" Tock says. "The flasks may have come from the House of the Transformed Toad, over in Middleborough."Tosh goes to the owlbear nest and looks around in it. He gently picks up the remains and dislodges the tube from the hand. He walks over and places the hand with the robed figure and the tube with the small pile at their feet. He takes an empty sack from his backpack and tosses it to Ragglus."I don't think that old sack will be much use in the carrying of the coins."Renraw picks up the spell component pouch from where it dropped when the wizard was unable to catch it. He examines the contents very superficially and mindlessly stuffs them in his own bag."I divine nothing from these spell components. Worthless, worthless. But judging by those queer vials, I do believe these fools knew more than we. They were here with purpose beyond increasing their personal wealth. Perhaps the liquid within the vials has to do with the fouled kobolds downstairs. The cause of -- or cure for -- their pestilence, perhaps?"On the other hand, it could to do with the mirrors and the shadow creature, as well, or perchance both. Let us quickly get what can be gotten from here and return to the outer room and the mystery of the mirrors."Ragglus kneels and begins filling the sack with coins, grinning."Next round at The Cat & The Fiddle's on them, eh?" He laughs a bit."Their folly is our jolly," Tock says grinning at Ragglus. "You want to go steal from an owl culture, you best be able to at least kill an owlbear. They didn't have a bard."While the rest of his party search the area around the dead, Emmerson goes to the other side of the lair, intending to use his shield to dig a makeshift grave for the corpses."If those three were not Maidensbridge citizens, but a party of adventurers from another city, I wonder how they heard about Tulgey Barrow. Are there songs about it?" He selected a spot, sifted the dry dirt with his hands. "We all came here, without the guarantee of treasure because it's close to Maidensbridge, barely a walk from our everyday lives. But what made those three come here from greater distance? What were they seeking? Were they certain there was treasure to be found? Were they after knowledge of great import? And I also wonder if they were killed somewhere else and dragged here, or were they surprised by the owlbear and killed here.If they were killed here, what is the importance of this dug-up den?"He sees the looks on the other party members."I know. I talk a lot. Brother Kenan said I tried the patience of the order too much."</blockquote>

Verification