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After Cato’s immolation of the undead ravens, it seemed that Foxglove Manor was finally content to let the party leave—or at least that it had no further resources to stop them.  The group returned to find their horses (thankfully) unmolested, and mounted up to make the ride back to Sandpoint.

Given that it was the middle of the night, however, and everyone was exhausted, it wasn’t long before they found a suitable place to make camp and rest until morning.  The breaking dawn found them sore and still tired, but at least the sun gave the group good light to see by, and the brisk late-summer breeze, tinged with sea salt, fortified them for the ride ahead.

And so it was the wearied cadre of Sandpoint Saviors rode over southbridge, seemingly victorious once again.

“Sergeant Storval!”  Tal Harden stood guard on the Sandpoint side of the bridge, sandy-brown hair as unruly as ever.  He straightened up, saluted, and tried to look extremely put-together for the higher-ranking man.  “Welcome back, Kellan."  Tal's ready grin peeked through his professional demeanor.  "How did things go?”

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This message was last edited by the GM at 15:53, Tue 09 May 2017.

Though being neither Sergeant Storval nor having had the benefit of staying at a Holiday Inn Express the earlier night - whatever that might be - it was Pisca who answered first.  "I'm not sure," she said in a pensive and oddly un-Piscaesque voice.  "I don't think that we quite know yet."  The gnome's answer had much more the flavor of personal musings than anything in the way of being answer-ish.  Her gaze was directed past the bridge guardsman and off into the town of Sandpoint, casting about for something as of yet unspoken.  She tipped up her nose and scented the breeze.

"There haven't been any more ... murders while we've been away, have there?"

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"Murders?"  Tal blanched slightly.  "No, ma'am.  Not in Sandpoint.  Not since that awful business at the mill."  He paused.  "There have been some wild stories about attacks in the outlands.  Monsters and such.  Can't say how much truth is in them, but that's what people are saying.  Lieutenant Barret and Dav Hosk took a patrol out earlier this morning to investigate.  You just missed them."

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"They're not just stories" Kellan replied soberly as he slid off of the horse and landed with a jingling of chainmail. "We ended up going by the Hambley's place..." he shook his head grimly "I'm sorry to say they didn't make it, and I'm sure that they were not the only ones...but at least we think we managed to cut the problem out by the root...so with the Gods good favor and a little luck, we just might be on on the tail end of all this"

He walked over and slapped the guardsman shoulder gently with the back of his gloved hand. "How about you Tal? You holding up alright?" As much as they did need to report all that had happened to the Mayor and the others, Kellan seemed to be compelled to check on his friends and co-workers while he could.

"Now we have to go to Magnimar.  But there shouldn't be any more murders in Sandpoint."  The news of monsters in the outlands had to be whatever ghouls and undead were still left behind by Your Lordship.  Maybe even that evil necromancer that had gotten away from them at Dr. Habe's sanitarium.

"But before anything we need to go see Father Zantus.  And Mayor Deverin."  Liseth was suddenly conscious of the two bodies they had brought along with them.  "We have to tell them the things we've learned."

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Tal grinned.  "All right?  If we're quit o' this I'll be a sight better 'n all right.  The town's been riled ever since the mill."  His smiled disappeared.  "Folk're on edge about it, and who can blame 'em, what with the mysterious killins and all."  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating Sandpoint.  "If you got news that'll ease their minds, maybe we can put this whole thing to rest and get things back to normal."

"Magnimar?"  The guardsman pushed up his helm.  "That's a trip, no question.  You sure?"  Tal's skepticism was plain.  "Magnimar folk ain't like us."  He shrugged.  "But you gotta do whatcha gotta do.  Betcha Mayor Deverin and Sheriff Hemlock'll be happy to see ya!"

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This message was last edited by the GM at 22:30, Thu 11 May 2017.

"Well that's good then."  The gnome's attention was still upon the town, examining it as a doctor would a potentially ill patient.  "If you're sure," she added.  And then, as though arriving at the determination as to whether the guardsman of the bridge was sure or not on her own, Pisca swept the subject aside with a flip of one dismissive hand.

"Very well then.  I suppose we have places to be."  She started her march across the bridge, leading the borrowed pony behind.  "I know that I do."  Despite their apparent success, she was grim-faced.  She had been since leaving the birds behind.  "So much evil," she muttered to herself as she made her way to the Sandpoint Cathedral.

"Yeah...it's not looking like we're gonna have much choice in the matter" Kellan replied to Tal's sentiments about going into the big city.

"We'll be over at the Temple if anything comes up...you take it easy out here Talking" and with that Kellan began moving in that direction, his pole axe balanced over one shoulder.

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Taking their leave of Guardsman Harden, the party headed up Market Street, past the Rusty Dragon, until they arrived at Southmarket.  They then zig-zagged up Festival Street—past Cyrdak’s theater, which was apparently in the process of preparing for a production of “The Korvosans”—and then up High Street to Northchurch square.

The group’s grisly baggage drew some stares, but most were used to unusual things going on with the Sandpoint Saviors, so they just raised eyebrows and whispered conjectures to each other after the troupe had passed.

Finally the party reached the large double doors of the church, which stood open.  Apparently word of their progress had already reached the church; a concerned-looking Father Zantus stood out on the front steps.  He hurried down to meet them.

“The gods bless you, my children.”  He cast a worried glance at the bodies borne on the horses.  “What did you find?”

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The gnome screwed her face into a tight knot of concentration as she considered the question and the hundreds, if not thousands of words that must necessarily go into the answer if it were to be done right.  She opened her mouth as though to begin.  Then she closed it again.  After a thoughtful pause, she began again, but found herself once more lapsing into silence.

"That's a very long answer, Father Zantus," she said at last.  "We found quite a lot of things.  And we'll have to tell it all to Mayor Deverin and Sheriff Hemlock as well, so, if you don't mind, could you come with us to City Hall so we only have to tell it once?"

"In the meantime, we have the body of Aldern Foxglove and his wife.  They've been ill used," she added, walking around her pony and holding up a hand to indicate the two still forms strapped to the back of the larger horses, "and I think they're in need of restful burial.  Aldern was kind to us.  You wouldn't mind if they were laid to rest here, would you?"

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"Aldern . . . and Iesha?  Both dead?"  Father Zantus went a shade whiter.  "I knew Aldern was involved with some less-than-upright people, but I never thought . . . ."  His voice trailed off as he walked towards the bodies.  "Of course we'll bury them here.  With a full ceremony."  His eyes widened as he got a closer look at Iesha's body.  "But perhaps not with an open casket.  I see there are many things for us to discuss."

"Daena!"  The crimson-haired acolyte of Sarenrae appeared in the doorway, shooting a surprised but genuine smile at Kerr and Liseth.

"Yes, Father Zantus?"

"Daena, we will need to prepare these bodies for burial.  But," Father Zantus gave her an intense look, "I want you to take charge of it personally.  You will see why.  No novices should be involved."

"Yes Father Zantus."  As Daena left to make preparations, the town's chief priest motioned to the party.  "You can leave your steeds here, they look tired.  They'll be well cared for.  Now let's go see the Mayor and the Sheriff."  He began walking across the square towards City Hall.  "I'm sure they'll be as interested in hearing your story as I am!"

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Cato nodded, impressed once again with the efficiency of the people he found in Sandpoint.  Father Zantus seemed to have everything in order; normally Cato thought that priests assigned to backwaters like this would have done something to offend the higher-ups in the larger temples.  Or maybe he has...but that doesn't mean he's a bad administrator.  Or perhaps he has his own reasons for wanting be here...  Shaking his head, Cato followed along.

"Thank you, Father Zantus.  We do have a great many things to talk about it.  And I think we'll need your assistance to tie up the loose ends at the Foxglove Manor, though we'll wait to fill everyone in on that."

Kellan nodded his greeting to Father Zantus as Cato and Pisca explained the gist of the situation. Despite his hardy upbringing on the Storval farm, a few full days in the field, living in his hauberk and lugging around a pack and polearm...not to mention their hunt for the restless dead lurking in the countryside, it had left him tired and it showed on his face.

Still, it was obvious to his closest companions that Kellan was taking his new position as a Sergeant seriously, he stood a little straighter, looked a little more reserved...or maybe the stress of the past few months had just aged the young man prematurely?

"We appreciate it" he chimed in, then stifled a yawn with a closed fist before he set off with the others, side by side, his pole axe over his shoulder.

"Good to be home" he added, somewhat to himself but loud enough for his friends to hear. He looked around at the familiar homes and storefronts and managed a weary smile.

"You knew ... "  Pisca bobbed her head in an appraising manner as she followed along after the longer-legged humans.  "You did ... " she said, accompanied by more of the head bobbing.

"That's very interesting, Father Zantus" she added.  "We did not."  But she left her comments at that, possibly waiting to pursue them once gathered with the Mayor and the Sheriff.  Possibly.  But it was always difficult to tell with Pisca.

With a weary wave back to Deana, Liseth dismounted to walk with Father Zantus and the others to see the mayor.  There were so many questions and still they didn't have all of the answers.  At the least, they could give assurance that Sandpoint shouldn't suffer subsequent sorties from the undead.

"Father Zantus, how long ago were Aldern and Iesha married? I didn't even know about Iesha until...we...found her in Foxglove Manor."  Liseth didn't want to get in to the exact state Iesha was found in until they were with the mayor and sheriff.  But maybe they could get some sort of time-frame for how long she was in that cursed state?

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"Three years ago," Father Zantus answered, his tone maudlin.  "They were married three years ago," he sighed.  "They seemed so alive at the time.  Such great things ahead of them.  Such high hopes.  Aldern was convinced that he was going to overcome the wrongs of the world.  But it appears as if they overcame him instead."

"Whatever happened out there," it was clear Father Zantus feared the worst, "try and remember that he was a good man."  His eyes welled with tears.  "A good man.  He did not deserve . . . that."

With that, they arrived at the City Hall.  The group walked through the well-appointed entry area and up the stairs to Mayor Deverin's office.  The door stood open.  Walking in, Rose Kritchett looked over her spectacles at them, motioning them in to the meeting room as if they were expected.

Which they apparently were.  Sheriff Hemlock stood as they entered, while Mayor Deverin remained seated.

"Welcome back."  The mood in the room was grim.  "Abstalar," the sheriff nodded to Father Zantus.

"Belor," the priest responded, nodding his head as well as he went to take a seat at the table.

"I'll get right to it, then," Mayor Deverin began.  "You've returned from your mission.  What have you found?  Any clues to the murders?"

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