Not taking time to appreciate this incredibly hard-fought victory, the group rushes toward Dakath and Forte, who Tag has seen to. It appears that Forte's injuries are bad, but he will recover in time.
Tag looks at the horrific burns and cuts the wights left on Forte's body and shakes his head. "I wish I knew more of the healing arts my friend. Good wine will numb some of the pain, you are welcome to some if you wish."
The group looks toward Augustus' sad face and is most saddened to see Dakath clearly beyond help. Though Augustus' magic has healed some of the burns, it appears that his spirit is gone.
Tag sighs deeply, remembering the thieve's antics only a few days ago and how he was duped into believing his story of being Xania's spice selling husband. He crosses himself and bows his head. "Though Dakath and I did not always see eye to eye, I will miss him. I will compose a dirge to play at his funeral, Si."
Ami's eyes brim with tears. This man was kind to him, called him friend, even. And now he was gone.
Xania sheathes the dagger, taking back her gift from Rhune and walks unsteadily toward Dakath's corpse.
-----Breathing shallowly and fast, Rhune steps over to Augustus and Dakath...tears flow from her eyes as she sees his expression...turning to Xania, she tentatively reaches out for the young woman, not sure if she will accept her hug.
Xania shakes her off, both in pain for the injuries she has taken and because she is not sad, but furious that Dakath has been hurt this way.
Sighing deeply as the young woman shuns her attempt at consolation and truly not knowing why, drops her arms and slips next to Asif. She feels Xania's loss greatly and wonder if she would have done the same if it were Asif lying there instead. She shudders at the thought and puts her arm around his waist needing to feel his warmth right now.
Asif is momentarily distracted from the whole affair when a shadowy essence rises up from the second elf-spirit, much as the first, and settles into the weapon once again. Immediately afterward, Asif feels the weapon tug him toward Dakath, and he carries it in that direction. Coming close as Augustus begins to tell you all the verdict, everyone is amazed to see the greenish mist of energy rise from the mace and settle into Dakath. As it occurs to some that the evil spirit might manifest itself in him, you cannot help but hold out hope.
Xania watches the greenish mist of energy with a worried frown, "What if he becomes one of those monsters?" she thinks.
Looking with awe, you see after a few seconds Dakath's eyes jerk awake, his injuries still very serious, but his life-force very much intact! As the rest of the group marvels at this, the mace tugs Asif toward Forte, who is clearly not dead, but the same process manifests itself. As the second essence leaves, Asif feels the weapon's pulsing power deaden, and it now looks exactly as it did when it was originally obtained.
Dakath's eyes slowly refocus and he finds himself staring into Auggie's worried face, he can feel the dryness of his throat. He coughs once and manages to smile, "You're all as ugly as ever, so I guess I'm not dead. Did we win?" he says in a weak tired voice.
Amibar cannot believe his own eyes, and he wipes away the tears to make sure it is not some distortion he is seeing. But no! Dakath truly is alive!
--------Clearly startled by this aspect of the mace, Rhune sucks her breath in as Dakath's eyes flicker open....and then Forte's as well.
Shocked beyond reason by the strange turn of events, Asif's adrenalin evaporates and the mace falls nervously from his hands.
"By Aten's holy light, Aten protect us, Aten protect us... what is that? What heka dwells within this thing?"
Rhune steps next to Asif, "I don't know, Asif. I truly don't know. But maybe we can use the mace to good," she replies in a low whisper as Dakath comes to.
Tag gasps in awe and fear. "Dakath is that you or Lazarus? Of all the powers in the world...even our Lord Jerboha did not rise for a full three days. Yet here you are by the power of that weapon arisen, this is a true miracle, Si!"
He turns to Augustus. "Brother, is this miracle by the power of that evil mace? Can true evil used for good like this? I for one would feel more comfortable if you carried the mace brother, for surely a truly good and holy man such as yourself can keep it from doing evil. Maybe it can be turned to goodness? Perhaps, the evil spirit in it could be exorcised by the power of Jerboha?"
Brother Augustus shakes his head "I have no knowledge of that weapon, and indeed I would not wish to use it if there is a chance it's powers are unholy. No, I will not take it."
Ullar adds his two cents to the discussion. "Was it not for the mace that we survived this battle at all? I don't see how we can conclude that this mace is evil, after all that has happened here. However, I suggest that, on the next occasion, Dakath will be examined by mother Kuzma or another ´healer´, just to make sure and ease our minds."
"Isn't there anything in this tomb which can be identified by someone of Petr's clan so that we find out about the history of those two elven spirits?" asks Ullar, looking to Tag and the rest of the group.
"There may be more clues in the third tomb Ullar. Let us go back and question Petr and mother Kuzma after this last foray, Si," Tag says.
"Dakath?" Xania asks, her voice husky from the fury that has not quite left her body at seeing him cut down. She slumps down wearily at his side, only now noting the hideous wounds that have been dealt her.
At the mention of his name Dakath turns to face Xania and smiles at her, "You don't look too good," he begins to laugh which is quickly replaced with a coughing fit. "I think we've done something good today," he tells her cryptically. His hand makes it's way to hers.
"That's good, because I feel pretty crappy too," Xania replies, tightening her grip on his hand for a moment.
"You're not to die again," she orders, "not until after I do."
Dakath nods his understanding to her, "I shall endeavor to keep to that rule," he says somewhat subdued.
"Good," she says shortly. Ironically, she doesn't seem to be joking.
Lying on the ground, Forte can only manage to whisper, "I saw something...pointy ears watching the woman....a raft....so much; so confusing....a man with a cross....a red haired man...trees of stone..." He closes his eyes, his garbled message delivered, and the pain overwhelms him into silence.
The corpses of the creatures are found to each have small silver helms with gems in the brow (too small for the larger warriors to wear), elf-sized chain mail, and long swords at their belts with medium-sized gems in the pommels.
Looking around at the scene, Rhune looks up at Asif, "Are you alright?" she asks him stepping closer to him to put her arms around him, wincing as she puts weight on her injured leg. Once he has answered her, "What do we now? Leave or search?" she asks in a soft voice aware of the high price they almost paid for this tomb.
Without hesitations, Ullar runs for his pack and gets the vial of mother Kuzma. He runs back to Dakath and pours its content in his mouth, using his other hand to make him swallow if necessary.
After a few gulps, the gladiator stops, seeing if the potion has any effect on the nearly former thief.
Dakath hardly has time to swallow as Ullar throws the potion down his neck.
The pain he felt was slowly replaced by a cooling, tingling sensation as the potion coursed through his body.
It's effects are remarkable, as Dakath's injuries heal completely right in front of your eyes. He now sits before you looking as healthy as he was walking into this place, though you note that there are a few burn scars on his face and arms, and his leathers have been burned in the midsection.
He seems somewhat distracted as he searches the rest of the tomb and says nothing to anyone. His brow seems to be creased in a frown as if he's deep in thought, and his mind doesn't seem to be on the task at hand.
Gathering up what they want from the tomb, Dakath and Rhune look about, finding nothing of value or interest in the rest of the place, merely the two sarcophagi that apparently formerly contained the elf-corpses.
Not sure if she wishes to take the helms or the gems Rhune leaves them for Dakath. The longswords are another matter. She picks up both of them along with the scabbards. One she straps across her back (from the one that hit her) and the others she just holds onto.
Rhune finds herself rather fully loaded with weapons, with three long swords, five dagger, and a short bow. Indeed, it will be difficult even moving about carrying all that!.
Asif picks up one of the helms and gestures toward the sword in Rhune's hand.
"What do you make of these? The workmanship of your kind is indeed most fine. This is not the land of your people by my understanding. How then I say did these two unfortunates find there KA imprisoned here in this place. Why did they come here in life and why in death do they remain. This indeed is a mystery I wish to find the bottom off. Tagalino is a man of stories, and has shown some talent in identifying the history of things. I wonder if he can tell us anything of these."
Rhune looks at both the helm and the sword, "I don't really know, Asif. I am not a warrior," she replies to the young man.
Asif gestures to Tag to come over to him.
"Efendi, please come. You sing of many historical deeds. Do you by any chance know anything of these?" Asif shows him the sword and helm. "You speak the musical tongue of Rhune's people, maybe you can shed some light on this mystery. Or if not tell of someone who might. A fine story teller such as yourself would meet many people."
Taglio responds, shrugging his shoulders, "I am sorry mio amico, their style is not familiar to me. I assisted my father who traded in many goods from many countries and I have some knowledge of things like this, but the knowledge of these things is not mine to give. I cannot speak the tongue of Rhune's people Asif, I only remembered that tune from my learning of ancient songs. In truth I only understood half the words myself."
Tag looks sheepishly at the group. "I did not know the words would have that effect."
Tag estimates that the chain mail is normal elf-sized chain mail, not particularly valuable. The swords are quite fine, of beautiful steel and well crafted, along with medium-sized gems in the pommels. He estimates them to be worth around 250 gp. apiece. The helmets he has a little more trouble with. They are simply, but finely crafted with smallish gems above the brows, worth around 100 gp. apiece.
Seeing how difficult it is to move about with all the armament, Rhune turns the two jeweled swords over to Asif.
"What the f*ck were those things? And what an impressive mace that is!" Ullar calls out to the rest of the group.
Dakath offers an explanation, "Restless Spirits who we're just released. The one I saw was thankful." He looks around at what is left from the battle. His eyes alighting upon the helms, chain-mail and swords. He shakes his head as if to clear some fuzziness and walks over to the helms. He picks one up and looks over it. He then places it upon his own head. Dakath then checks the swords and the chain-mail telling his companions what he finds.
Dakath estimates the helms are worth around 100 apiece as well, agreeing with Taglio. He disagrees with Taglio's assessment of the swords, however, saying they are probably worth no more than the helmets. As for the chain, he agrees that it is normal, not particularly valuable. He finds that the helmet somewhat impairs his ability to hear, but otherwise provides some measure of protection to his head.
Rhune also watches Dakath as he moves around the room. Wondering what changes he has undergone and hoping that they are for the good. She turns attention to Asif and the other sword.
As they get ready to leave, Forte croaks out, "Dakath's pack....don't forget Dakath's pack." He walks over to the ground where he spilled the contents during the melee, and begins to put everything back in, although rather haphazardly. "Damn!" he exclaims, as he find his broken chain mail and slings it over his shoulder. "I guess this is worthless now," He takes it off his shoulder, looks at it in disgust, and throws it on the ground.
Departing the place, you find the bodies still outside scattered all around, numbering in the hundreds you would guess. Each appears to have their weapons and armor and has not been stripped of anything that you can tell. They are equipped interestingly, as the humans, perhaps one quarter of the bodies, are wearing heavy clothes and strange fur-lined hats, armored in fitted scale with long swords and long spears. They appear to be of similar ethnic origin to the people of Sukiskayn, not Italians. The orcs are sparsely equipped, wearing animal hides and wielding crude weapons, clubs and axes, and number approximately the same as the humans, something over fifty apiece. The goblins are quite similar to the ones that you all have encountered hereabouts, though they appear to be of a different tribe, and number over one hundred dead. They are equipped in leathers and short swords along with a score of archers.
Asif takes a look at these obvious foreigners.
"My friends what do you make of these poor fellows. They wears clothes unlike any I have seen. Where is this place called Sukiskyn I overhead one of you mention. It is a kingdom unknown to me."
Rhune reminds Asif that Sukiskayn is the village you all have spent so much time in. "We should take some of their garments back to Sukiskyn and ask the people if they recognize them, Si. They may be able to tell us more."
"That sounds like a good idea to me, Tag," Ullar replies.
"However, we must not underestimate the emotional impact such a thing can have. I've seen how Gladiators attach themselves to preferred weapons, even starting to give them names..." then the warrior falls silent, remembering that he did the same with his buckler.
He just stares at the ground, hoping that nobody noticed his ´stupid´ remark.
Tag gathers up a few samples of the men's clothes and puts them in his pack.
Forte looks at the armor on the way out. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing," He goes over to investigate the armor, checking to see if it might fit him or another party member without armor.
Ullar searches around for two spears, which he can bind on Zephyr his horse.
"Hmm," the gladiator murmurs, "...I guess those humans won't need their armor anymore," and he searches the corpses for any useful armor he can find.
"Xania, do you expect that anything magickal can lay within these remains? Perhaps your magickal abilities can assist us here," the warrior asks, wondering if Xania is up to do any casting right now after this quite intense experience.
"I did not take that spell today, Ullar. I alternate it with one that allows me to study the spellbook Marika left me. I am trying to learn spells that will help us more--especially against things like this," Xania says quietly, her voice taut from suppressed pain.
"No problem, no problem," Ullar replies, still searching for useful armor.
"I hope you don't mind me asking, do you?"
Xania shook her head slightly, not wanting to spare the concentration it took her to speak normally.
The group notes that the stench has not lessened at all in the barren circle.
Wrinkling her nose at the stench. "I personally do not want to search all their bodies. Why don't we just leave this tomb and make camp again. I could use a rest," Rhune says as she limps toward the edge of the circle, blood still trickling slowly from the gash in her leg. "Augustus, perhaps you can do something about my leg as well," she asks the young priest softly. As she passes through the corpses Rhune looks them over, holding a piece of cloak over her nose. If she sees anything interesting or out of the ordinary she will investigate.
"I could rest too," Xania says, moving as if she doesn't want the light fabric of her tunic to rest upon her badly burned chest. She walks close to Dakath and her skin is very pale with small beads of sweat dotting her forehead as she moves.
"Yes, rest would be good," agrees Forte. His face seems to lose focus, as if his mind is wandering. "We will see those people again. I feel it," he adds, to no one in particular.
It's only now that Ullar realizes that he is wounded more severely than he thought.
"Hmm...rest...not a bad idea indeed," he says, still looking for a suitable piece of armor.
Both Forte and Ullar are able to find a couple of large blokes wearing fitted scale, which Ullar is able to make wearable, but Forte finds is rather tightly constructed. He can wear it, but it is very uncomfortable.
Tag suggests to all that they take their horses back to the camp from last night and rest a further night before tackling the final tomb. "We could set some traps or hunt, perhaps fish for some food, Si. A good meal of fresh game would revive our spirits I'll warrant. Also we could cut some fresh torches, I think our light sources are going to run low."
While there is no water from which to fish in the local area, the warriors decide that a bit of hunting would not hurt them any. Heading out, they are almost immediately successful in finding traces of some small game (you all may call whatever you wish), which they track down within an hour or so. Within another hour, they have it roasting upon the campfire, and with the skills of the cooks in the group, they manage a decent dinner without resorting to rations.
While everyone is out hunting, Rhune goes about setting up camp. Though she winces every so often as her leg hurts like hell. By the time the others arrive back with the various rabbits and squirrels she has a fire going and is sitting there waiting. "Ah, we will have a nice dinner this evening," she says noting the number of small game the warriors have.
It is still relatively early, so the group has plenty of time to rest, meditate, or whatever they wish before settling in for the night.
Rhune helps Asif with his dinner and spends most of her time with just sitting as she does not wish to walk much on her injured leg...the incident in the tomb as her worried and once in a while her eyes stray to Dakath and Forte and then to Asif. Those that look in her direction will see that she is sitting even closer to Asif than she normally does.
Tag brushes down and feeds Beatrice back at the camp and studies the old book before the light has faded.