Deciding that reptiles are the better part of valor, Narthian's serpent slithers down the ladder with enviable speed.  The others abide above, ears tuned to anything from below.  The snake comes back up soon, and Averdante and Volsh are sure they heard the snake hissing before returning.  The serpent hisses at Narthian, and finally vanished back to whence it was summoned from. 

--

With a clatter of armor and a shout of alarm, Bruenor and Dellas arrive on the scene with all the subtlety of an avalanche just as the serpent disappears.

The noises from below get louder.

--

Below, Haazheel, Lantamori, and the rest of the company begin to dine on hot, fresh food.  Out in in the dripping forest, Lantamori (and Haazheel, via Mystique) hear the distant howl of some wolves.  Thunder, still prowling between the camp and the abandoned town, whines a little, but does not call back to them.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:30, Thu 26 Oct 2017.

Bruenor visibly relaxes, seeing his companions still on the platform and not descending into the trapdoor.

He catches his breath for a moment, before straightening up and addressing the others, "Greensward..." throwing out his arm as if presenting their surroundings to indicate the subject he mentions..."They were hunted...stalked...by something evil, if the scrolls Dellas found are to be believed.  Residents started disappearing, and returning as undead versions of themselves."

He pauses, then adds, "Some sort of blood-drinking creature.  After much loss, they apparently found a way to ensnare it beneath the temple, and fled this place."  He glances around at the current surroundings, as if trying to validate whether they were, in fact, in the community's temple.  "Theoretically, it's still there...but whether alive or dead...bound or free...I can't say."

"Caution, friends," he adds unnecessarily.

"Something's down there," Averdante agrees, suddenly wary. He stands and takes a judicious step back from the trapdoor as he takes his bow back in hand. "Bound from the sounds below, but perhaps not for much longer -- I disabled some kind of spell before I opened that." He knocks an arrow reflexively, although if it's some kind of powerful undead, mere steel and wood might be of little effect.

Looking over, he questions, "Narthian?" Hopefully whatever the snake had told the druid would be helpful.

"Close the trap door and lock it," Narthian says. "What Bruenor says is true. The snake saw a great plant and some sort of undead." Seeing Dellas, Narthian waves him over. "Take a look at the sigil Averdante scratched out. Can you tell what sort of spell it was?"

Again Dellas is out of breath and takes a minute to catch it. "Well, let me take a look at it." He walks over to Averdante and requests to see the sigil.

Dellas Nump rolled 27 using 1d20+9.  Arcana

At the mention of undead, Farian turns away from the rear guard and focuses on the trap door.  "Nothing ever comes from the undead.  Let's reseal this door, and make our way out of this wretched place."

Farian again takes up the rear guard watching for anything.  Periodically he looks back to the group with dread on his face when he spies the trap door.  "May the light of Pelor protect us." Farian his hand reflexively reaches towards the carven holy symbol hanging around his neck.  After a few seconds of silent prayer, his hand drops and he again takes up a readied position watching the rear and the trap door.

Nodding, Averdante puts his arrow back into the quiver, and shrugs his bow over one shoulder before moving warily back to the trap door. He closes it gently, then fishes out his tools to try and relock it. At Dellas' question, he pauses to point it out. Then he focuses on the lock, recalling how he finally unlocked it -- and strains to hear any sound coming from below that might presage the thing below coming up that shaft.

The ready shifting of the lock is encouraging.

Enjoying her meal, Lantamori wondered where the missing members of their troupe had gotten off to.  Probably off fighting dandelions somewhere.

With Bruenor's warning and everyone else's caution, they stop themselves from going down the ladder into the lit room.  Dellas examines the spell that Averdante had disrupted.  It takes him a moment, because he quickly realizes the spell it not one he could usually cast until a higher level, but it does involve his favorite energy, fire.  It's a druidic fire trap spell, oriented not up at the ceiling, but rather down the ladder.  He also notes there is a second rune on the underside of the lid itself, a powerful heal spell if someone were to touch it.  Such a spell would be terribly problematic if, say, an undead creature were to set it off.

Thusly warned off, Averdante is able to relock the lock with flair, but replacing the fire trap isn't possible without another casting of the spell (which no one in the party currently has).  Farian delivers his blessing as he does, imparting a little more divine attention to the horror below.

The sounds from below are cut off as the trap door closes, and you are are once again left with the dripping sounds of the rain and the echoing sounds of night birds and wildlife.

Sir Aberlayne breathes a sigh of relief.  "I half want to find whoever didn't put up a warning and deliver a stern lecture, but then again I'd also hate a rumor of challenge and potential riches to rile up some party of reckless, headstrong adventurers and get them into more trouble than they can handle."

Volsh nods, but looks thoughtful.  "Is there anything else in this place but wildlife and captured death?  We have only seen a little of this place.  Is there nothing else here to jump on us during our sleep?  I don't wish to lay my head only to wake up with something trying to leap out of the trees and eat me."

--

Down below Lantamori, Haazheel, and the rest of the caravan are enjoying a hot, satisfying meal under canvas awnings, dry and unmolested by vines or undead.  Thunder paces between the trees of Greensward and the caravan site, whining, but doesn't come under cover.  In the distance, the wolves howl again, a lonely sound in the night.

"I agree, Sir Aberlayne," Narthian says, breathing easier now that the trap door is again locked. "We should put a warning up all around this place in the morning. And I shall send a message to my conclave. This was an elven home, so elves should fix this."

AHA! Fire magic... but there's also healing magic cast on it... it's powerful. More powerful than what I can summon. We should be careful..." Dellas exlcaims. "I guess, there isn't much we can do. Though I'm glad that you can call up upon your kin."

Bruenor shrugs and puffs his chest out a bit...there's a part of him that wants to descend the ladder with his companions and test their mettle against whatever was down there.  He didn't like closing the trap again and...what felt like fleeing.  Did they have what it took to slay this thing?  If the elven community couldn't?

He doesn't know; and he supposes it's best to focus on the job they were hired to do...not run off slaying creatures that weren't an immediate threat to the caravan.

The smells from the meal down below finally reach him.  "I suppose we should lock it up tight, and head down for something to eat.  I trust we haven't weakened the seal on that trap door too much?" he asks hesitantly.  Going down after it while on guard was one thing.  Having it come upon them while they slept was another.

Considering the closed trapdoor, Averdante tells Bruenor, "That's the question, isn't it? Because half the spells warding this are gone now -- and whatever's down there knows someone's up here. That is likely to give it extra motivation to fight to get free."

He glances around at the others, adding, "It's not just ourselves we risk by staying, but all the halflings in the caravan, as well. Perhaps it might be best to advise the caravan master that for the safety of all, we need to move on another mile or two."

Some additional discomfort and inconvenience they would all recover from quickly enough. Whatever was thrashing to free itself below could well be fatal to those they guarded. An entire elven community, with the priests of Corellon's temple here, had only managed to contain it, after all.

"We can come back later and try to destroy it, but we're contracted to protect the caravan right now."

When the work of sealing the trap door is complete, Narthian descends with the others. He shares the tale of what they found with all who are willing to listen.

Haazheel expresses interest in the finds. After he eats, he helps clean up and ready things for a morning meal. Then he finds out what watch he's supposed to take.

Seeing that he is that last to start leaving, and wanting, again, to be cautious in this place, Farian watches as the party descends.  Looking up to the trees, and marveling in their beauty, he is utterly amazed that such devastation has taken place in these trees.

"Pelor, I will never understand why you allow some things to happen.  I know you cannot control the other gods.  Or their worshipers.  I trust that you know the way, and I will follow."

Farian reaches in to his pouch and pulls out a small piece of charcoal.  He walks over to the closed and hopefully locked door.  With his back facing his companions as they descend, he begins to move his hand across the door.  After a short time, his right hand moves slowly to rest at his side, his fingers stained black from the charcoal.

"Hopefully this will help to keep others safe from the perils of the trap door."

As he turns to walk away, there is lettering upon the door.

"If you want to die, please enter this room.
Otherwise, if you want to live, run away as fast as you can."

Dellas nods slowly and watches Farian writing on the door. He nods and asks for the charcoal and continues to write similar messages on the walls and door in different languages before following the others

Draconic, Goblin, Gnome
This message was last edited by the player at 05:40, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

Averdante watches as first the priest, then the little fire mage, write their warnings out. He's not sure he likes Corellon's temple being defaced... but at the same time, it would have been nice if the priests once here had left some kind of warning. The place was beside a trade road!

Bow in hand, he waits for them to leave the building. He doesn't have a charcoal stick, but that won't hold up to the elements, anyway. Once the door is closed, though, he uses the arrowhead to score a few words of his own in to the wood: Danger. Death Within. To that, he adds a rough sketch of Ehlonna's symbol.

Eyeing it critically -- he's no artist, but it's recognizable anyway -- Dante lifts his beautiful Moonbow and holds it up next to the door. It's not really a holy symbol, but he's not a priest, either. Nonetheless, he makes a quick, silent prayer to his goddess.

Satisfied then that he's done what he can for now, he quickly descends to the ground to make certain the caravan master is aware of the hazard nearby, and to collect Preet -- bowl and all, if need be. If they're staying, he needs to get Mask tended to, as well.

Although, he'd really rather they didn't stay. Curious as he is about what's inside that tree, he'd rather not find out by waking up with it at his throat.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

Narthian can, with a bit of looking around and some judicious sprinkling of meat scraps from tonight's stew, attract a young kestrel.  After writing down your plea and attaching it to the bird, you impress upon him the image of your home and where it lies.  He's off like a shot, taking your words with him.  Hopefully he will be able to bring aid.

While Dellas doesn't have a spell handy to re-ward the door, Narthian could re-ward it tomorrow, as the fire trap spell comes more easily to druids.

Dellas and Farian carefully put a warning on the door in all the tongues they share, which will hopefully give any other curiosity seekers a reason to stay away.

Sir Aberlayne nods her approval.  "Well and good.  If Narthian can re-ward that trap door tomorrow, this place will be as protected as it ever was.  I am definitely all for coming back to this place once we are stronger, though, and putting this evil to rest for all time."  She taps her chin.  "I know the Baroness hereabouts is still recovering from a plague on her lands, but this is something she should know.  I remember Master Deyna sending a message to the Baron of the lands where we were attacked by ogres.  Hopefully she can do the same here.  And I will send a message to Yondalla's order when we get to the next town.  I dislike leaving this alone, but we serve no one well by dying today."

Volsh scowls at the door, then looks at the rest of the village, gloomy in the growing dark.  "If we are not to examine the rest of this place now and make sure nothing else lingers, then I shall take the darkest watch.  I trust this place even less now."

Once all are upon the ground and stories are shared, everyone can get a hot meal (wild game or vegetable stew and fresh flatbread) and tend to their beasts.  Averdante finds Prreet basking in his bowl and looking entirely comfortable.  If pressed, Prreet will place a paw upon Averdante's lips, indicating that anything can wait until the morning, as he is doing the very serious business of snoozing.

Thunder is extremely happy to see Narthian, and spends a great deal of time making certain his friend and hunting partner is in once piece, sniffing him all over and licking him to make sure he is all right.

If you speak to Master Deyna (Sir Aberalyne will certainly tell her about the undead in the hidden chamber, though doesn't mention it to anyone else in the caravan), she shudders in relief that the undead is at least contained for now.  "Aye, I'll send a message to the Baroness.  She should know, at least for the sake of her own people."  She'll find a crow to take a quickly-written message to the manor.

You can divide your watches up and pay close attention to the sounds in the night.  There are more wolf howls, some close, some far, though no lupine figure comes close enough to camp to ever be seen.  There are no unnatural sounds from up above, and by mornings' light, no undead have broken loose.

But something unexpected has arrived.  The crow Master Deyna had sent is back in camp, a small scroll bound to his leg, cawing to be noticed.  The scroll, one unbound and read, is thus:



It is sealed with what looks like an impression of a signet ring with the arms of three stars over an oak tree, identical to what you have seen on the marker stones in this Barony.

Upon hearing the missive read aloud, Lantamori realized Master Deyna's dilemma.  She could let them assist the Baroness or press them to move on with the caravan.

It would be irresponsible to her people and those she'd contracted with to leave the caravan unguarded and worse yet to bring it any closer to this new threat.

"How close are we to the next safe haven?" the elven woman asked.  If they could get the caravan into a town or village, Master Deyna might then be willing to hold fast a day for them to return with aid for the Baroness.

"Half a day, no more than that," Master Deyna says quickly, looking very alarmed at the message.  "Empty Horn, no one would dare be able to come back around here, not ever, if those monsters get a stronghold.  Goddess knows what would happen to anyone left alive."

Haazheel does whatever he can to help ready the caravan to move.

Dellas scribbles new notes in his spellbook as he learns of this new development. He closes his book and walks over to the others “Could I see the letter please?” He turns it over several times and reads it, nodding along. “Well, letting these brutes gain hold of a castle would be less desirable. Though we do have our prior arrangement which I’m not fond to leave or put on hold. A most serious conundrum indeed.” He hands the letter back

Narthian assures Thunder that he is alright, though it was a near thing. "[Language unknown: N andin eauainint vir p but Omeiveort Ecaipa ulnemo T nteiouout he pe ounool eraesslat!]" he says to the wolf.

After Narthian sends his messenger bird, he climbs to the temple and sets his Fire Trap by the trap door. He shimmies back down and looks at the "bleeding" mushrooms and the darkwood stakes found near them. "These are valuable, and will make excellent weapons," he says of the darkwood. "We should find a place amongst our gear for them."

Knowledge Nature: 20:49, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 18 using 1d20+10 ((8)). - Although I suspect that the blood was dripped from above.

Another Knowledge Nature: Wolf Calls Unusual? 21:00, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 26 using 1d20+10 ((16)).

When the raven returns with the message, Narthian face-palms. "Aye-ya! Of course, the ogres with the Silver Sheen! I should have been looking for [Language unknown: thohervorion]! Sorry, that is wolfsbane or belladonna in the Common speech." He takes some time to explain to the others what the herb looks like, and asks everyone to keep an eye out for it. "Even if we do not detour, we may be attacked. We should be prepared!"

He asks one of the mounted party members to act as scout, as Narthian plans to roam the scrub on either side of the road searching for wolfsbane. He also looks for some edible berries (Number of Goodberries when I cast the spell: 21:03, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 4 using 2d4 ((2,2)).)

After a restless night, unsettled by the proximity to some kind of powerful undead, Averdante makes short work of repacking his gear and getting Mask saddled and ready. If Preet is done with his rest, any rocks still in the bowl will be stowed in his saddle bags for later use, and the bowl returned to the cook.

As far as the trouble at the fortress goes, when he hears about it and sees Master Deyna's response, Dante follows up on what seems to be Lantamori's half-voiced notion. "If this would be a great hazard best brought to ruin immediately, perhaps we should get the caravan to that place of safety, and then ride to the baroness' aid?" he asks the caravan master. "You didn't hire us for that, and wouldn't pay us for it -- but it sounds as if the baroness offers compensation, anyway. Or do we send word back to Redhaven of their situation, while we try to travel faster and clear this area before these beseigers notice us?"

It sounded to him as if this threat would make Master Deyna's work in the future more dangerous, but he didn't know how far ahead she would look, nor if there were other roads she could turn to as alternates, if this route became too hazardous. They were contracted to her, right now, so she'd have to temporarily release them to aid the baroness, and wait while they did so.