Day 2, Evening
Without the clanging steel of skeletons at war nor the sound of plundering by Dakira's minions, the town had become silent, a silence that was only broken by the voices of the adventurers and the occasional creak of the few derelict buildings. The handful of houses that composed the remains of
Kirilyth seemed to precariously lean toward the visitors as they passed by, as if craning to get a better view of the strange and foreign creatures, living creatures. Here in the land of death, the houses observed them like some sort of spectacle, an oddity, an. . . abomination. There was hatred in their leering windows.
Johannes, Alacor, and Andriel approached the battlemage, who stood in the shadow of the bridge observing all that transpired; he watched the small group as they split from the party and approached him. On arrival, Johannes initiated a proposition to purchase or exchange spells with him, but before he could finish, the battlemage suddenly turned and walked away, ignoring them completely without a word
{Diplomacy Check: Failure}. He disappeared into the small house that he and Dakira had claimed as their own for the night. The party members exchanged bewildered glances.
As they returned back to the group they passed by Dakira, who was directing her skeletons to move her portion of the loot.
"
What's his deal?" asked Alacor, gesturing toward where the battlemage had gone.
Dakira's response was concise. "
If he doesn't want to speak with you, then that's just how it is." Alacor glanced at the old building curiously. Johannes then broached the topic of trade with her, but her reaction was hardly less hospitable than her partner's. "
I'm not interested in your paltry items," she said off-handedly. "
Talk to me when you have something of real value."
So much for that.
They returned to the party, where they then agreed to split up into groups and search the town for themselves. Although they knew the skeletons had already looted most of its valuables, the promise of there being something overlooked was high – after all, what did skeletons know about what's valuable or not?
Johannes, Alacor, and Andriel entered the nearby house on the eastern side, which also happened to be the biggest. Passing through the doors, they were greeted by an old and tattered rug on the floor, whose intricate design assured them that it was once brilliant and colorful but had since been drained of its beauty, leaving it a murky remnant of its former self. The rest of the house seemed to share the same fate. The walls, furniture, and floors – all of it seemed like a distant echo of what once was, and deprived of all hope for what could be.
The house, like most, was only one story high with vaulted ceilings, and the rooms were largely bare, as if someone had stripped them long ago, the previous occupants perhaps. Alacor stepped into a room that caught his attention, the library. In the corner there was a chest that had been recently forced open and emptied – no doubt the work of Dakira's skeletons – but the shelves were full of books and had been largely untouched. Alacor pulled out one of the books, but it disintegrated into dust the moment he did so. The last century and a half had not been so kind to them.
While Alacor searched the library, Johanes and Andriel passed through the rest of the house. Johannes pushed aside some of the low-hanging cobwebs as they entered an old dining room.
"
What did you think about Dakira's demonstration?" he asked, his voice almost intrusive in the still air.
Andriel studied the rotting tapestries. "
It was interesting," she replied. "
I had never seen necromancy so up close before."
"
Did your old teacher, Ryin, never teach you about that stuff?"
"
No. Er- he did sometimes, I guess. He said he even did it himself when he was young but stopped, though I can't imagine why; it looks strong."
Johannes dragged his finger through the dust of the old table, leaving a line in its wake. "
Was he the reason you learned to turn undead instead of rebuke them? I couldn't help but notice that."
"
Yea, you could say that," said Andriel. "
But to be honest, I didn't really know the difference at the time. There was a lot I didn't understand when I- . . Anyway, it's a shame he's not teaching anymore."
"
Right." Johannes glanced out one of the dirty windows, where he could see a faint silhouette of the forest and its gnarled black trees.
On the other side of town, Crispin, Cabrakan, and Lerdeth entered the house on the western side. It was small compared to the others and evidently once home to a single person. They found a single bed perfectly sized for a nook in the corner, with rubble from the ceiling strewn atop its sheets, and its main room was occupied by a set of work benches. On top of the benches were a number of tools – a clamp, hammer, chisels, handsaws – the tools of a craftsman. In someways, it felt like getting a glimpse into someone else's life, a life from long ago.
"
Sometimes I wish I had picked the simple life," said Cabrakan as he gazed over the humble abode.
"
How come?" asked Crispin. "
Less treasure, less violence, no fun – what could the simple life have on being an adventurer?"
"
Life expectancy," the priest answered.
Fair point. Crispin couldn't find much room for argument there.
Crispin went and opened the only door inside the small house, which revealed a closet-like room full of rubble, part of the wall having caved in. However, inside the room and peeking out of the debris was a large object – a clay mold for casting a bell about two feet in height. The rogue wondered if it had been used to cast the same bell out in the bell tower by the bridge. Apparently, this craftsman had a wide range of skills.
Lastly, Ziv and Dinamik entered the house in the center of town. While they strolled through the house, Dinamik plucked at his lute, trying to compose a song for the battle that had just transpired.
"
Stumbling 'pon a battle of dead,
We charged into the fray.
Creatures of bone in bloodless war,
Who fought amidst the day.
Lances flashed like lightning 'cross,
The field towards their foe,
And magic summoned creatures wild,
Who mauled with teeth and toe.
Archers let the arrows hail,
And priests did what they do,
But none could match the blade of the gnome,
Nor his good looks, too.
Handsome as the best of men,
The bard blazed across the field,
Like a god of musical might and death,
Such was the skill he'd wield-"
"
Okay. I think you're warping history a bit there, pal," interrupted Ziv.
Dinamik flashed her an irritated glance for being interrupted. "
I must preserve the events that have passed for all progeny to come. Tis the sacred duty of my profession."
"
Yea. That's what worries me."
Ziv stepped away from him for a second and peered into an old room where there was a large bed and chest – the chest had already been emptied by Dakira's minions. She entered inside and sat down on the bed, which, in its prime, had probably been quite luxurious; she laid down and stretched out on it, enjoying the transient comfort – it had been many weeks since she had slept in a real bed. Even though it was fairly decayed, the bed still retained some of its comfy-ness; whoever had lived here before must have been a well-off family.
Meanwhile, Dinamik walked into the dining room where there were a couple of cabinets. He opened them up but was a little disappointed to find all the silverware missing. It looked like whoever owned this place before had taken it with them – or it had been stolen. No matter, he decided. He didn't mind using wooden forks and spoons anyway, so great was his humility.
After an hour or so, the adventurers re-gathered in the center of town. The day had transitioned into the evening, and the sun now hung low in the sky. Their stomachs felt a calling for dinner, especially after the day's exertions in that great battle.
"
Alright, it's time to cook dinner and setup camp," announced Johannes. He noticed that Dakira and the battlemage had secluded themselves in their residence, which was in turn guarded by a contingent of skeletons. He wondered if they would attack him if he drew too near. . . "
It looks like we're on our own, for the most part," he continued. "
There was no sign of a cart, so we have to figure out who carries what from the loot. But first, let's start a fire, build the cottage, and do our thing. It's time for our second night on the Dead Isle."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:56, Mon 09 Oct 2017.
