Eilieen studies the symbol, her expression similar to the time the group stopped at an inn and she found a slug in her salad.  "Zadastha avert," she mutters, touching her holy symbol.  "As Aarnr said, a priest.  He gave us some difficulty, even conjuring up a fiery spirit, but Arkan put paid to his misdeeds."

There's a small pause.

"With his sword," Zadastha's priestess helpfully clarifies.  Bending slightly, she studies the unholy medallion up close.  "I wonder what other secrets this body hides," she muses.  "Certainly his power was considerable.  Insufficient," she - again - clarifies, "but considerable."

Turning back, she faces into the crypt area and grounds her spear, content to allow the others the discussion with the knight.  For herself, she will take the man's suggestion and stand ready for any further appearance of undead.  Zadastha's power still courses within her, a slow, deep heartbeat pushing warmth through her body.

Any ghouls who creep into view will find that warm pulse become a pyroclastic flow.

"Searching you say?" the Justicar ponders for a few moments, "Many of our fellows have been interred with personal belongings, some of them valuable, so it could be one of those.  But beyond that I can't say.  Perhaps the High Justicar will be better able to tell you."

"As for this son of a diseased cur...  I am not surprised that he had power.  He was, after all, entrusted with a mission into the crypt below a stronghold of Muir."

"The lady is too humble, without her potent abilities we would not have survived." Arkan says, gesturing at Eileen with a smile.

As the Justicar prods the dead cleric's unholy symbol, Arkan looks at it, a dark shadow coming over his face. "Orcus...even in old Raumathar we have heard of the name. Our ancient foes, the daemonologists of the cursed empire of Narfell consorted with Orcus and his ilk, conjuring foul things from the hells with the dark bargains they made with the so called prince of daemons."

Turning his head he spits upon the corpse, a gesture rather unlike him. But it shows the hatred that boils up within as old memories and teachings are remembered. It is not altogether surprising to hear the name or come across his servant, Arkan knows Rappan Athuk served as a bastion to the foul cult of Orcus in these lands in ages long past. It would make sense some power beholden to the demon prince would yet remain in the blasted ruins; no what is disturbing is to find tendrils of the evil reaching all the way here, to Bard's Gate.

"Tell me sir Justicar, have you had any dealings with Orcus's servants before? Say, in recent times?" he queries the warrior before him.

The Justicar shakes his head.  "There have been no servants of Orcus in Bard's Gate, as far as I know, since their vile cult was driven out of Tsar centuries ago, and their hold in the lands between the Forest Kingdoms and the Inland Sea was broken.  This order of Justicars was founded to protect Bard's Gate, should the foulness of the demon lord return.  To be honest, though, most of our time, over the years, has been spent north of the city, watching for orcs and their kin crawling down from the Stoneheart Mountains."

"Over the long years a number of us have been moved to travel east, to the Dungeon of Graves itself.  None of them ever returned, and no word of their fate ever reached this hall."

The knight sighs, "If there has been a priest of Orcus here, then perhaps the cult is rising again on the shores of the Great Sea.  Dark times may soon be upon us."

After inclining her head to Arkan's kind words, Eilieen actually breaks into a small golf-clap as the mage spits on the priest's corpse, managing somehow to keep from hopping in place like an excited girl.  But she grows more solemn as the Justicar explains the history and current situation.  "The Dungeon of Graves.  Well.  Perhaps we shall learn of their fate, ourselves."

Perhaps through experience; an ominous thought.

"An' some small-codded toad-knocking pudder helped him !" Aarnr growls angrily, trying not to let the news of a chance to split further pates cheer him up unduly.  "That portal didn't froggin' make itself !"  Or so he's been told.

"Portal?  Where is this portal?" the High Justicar comes down the stairs, looking less than happy, "Arvus has told me that you reported finding one, but he could not provide further details."

"Take me to it.  I would see this thing with my own eyes."

Colwyn finds the lack of gratitude disconcerting, and makes sure that he remarks on it, a little sourly, "We was killin' all them there ghouls as well."

"Indeed.  I expected no less from those who had, so recently, slain a giant.  We do appreciate your efforts in defeating the undead, but their source is also of vital importance."

Arkan too finds the High Justicar's lack of social graces a bit off-putting, but he brushes aside his concerns; the High Justicar is likely rightfully worried about the possibility of another assault from within the sanctuary of the Justicars, and this time by an entire army of Orcus's foul minions.

"No doubt, if they were not looking for any relic or other item of importance, this does appear to be a scouting sortie. Though it could have been both I suppose." Arkan muses, stroking his chin as he peers at the High Justicar.

Gesturing back the way they came he adds, "We can take you to the sight of the portal, or what remains of it Sir Justicar. Lady Eileen here has made sure there will be no other foul servants of the demon prince transporting themselves here by occult means."

"Excellent!" the High Justicar proclaims, "Take me to it, by all means."

The group start to escort the knight through the crypt, and as they walk Colwyn edges closer to him and explains to him, "We were thinkin' as 'ow it might be somethin' in the way of a inside job, so ter be speakin'"  The rogue's hand, quite by coincidence, rests casually upon the hilt of his knife.

"An inside job?  I am not familiar with that term... "

"It's meanin' as one of yer own people's been makin' a way in fer the ghouls."

And at that moment they enter the chapel, with the portal carved into the floor.  The High Justicar studies the symbol, and his face twists into a tight lipped smile.  "Not one of us, I think.  One of the masons that were hired to work on expanding the chapel."

Eilieen studies the High Cleric somewhat skeptically for a long moment, then sighs.  "I suppose that makes more sense.  I have no idea if this is a...professional job or not, but if it is cleanly cut, it follows a mason did it rather than a knight moonlighting as a sculptor."

And here she had been hoping to discover a traitor, perhaps begin an inquisition...an image of her at the forefront, decked out in samite, her faithful houndsfellow party members ready to pounce upon the heretics...

"...shall love me and despair..." the Priestess mumbles, her eyes glazed, before shaking her head to clear it of the unpleasantly attractive vision.  "Rather, where are these masons now?  And can you tell us aught further about this abomination, my lord?"

In complete contrast, which is just his way, Aarnr is quite happy with the High Justicar's explanation for it means that the Knights, from whose stock doughty Sir Galdean sprung are not the whey-faced, false-hearted, nuthooks that paved the way for the necromancer's entrance.

Besides which, stonemasons were always a bit suspect, being entirely responsible for towns and cities amongst other less obvious travesties, and could probably do with a good culling to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Eilieen's considerations rather surprisingly lead to the priest giving some thought to the matter himself. "Thou don't think this is the first of these gods-blighted portals the dismal-dreamin' sheep-bitin' hedgepigs have froggin made ?" he seeks some clarification.

Colwyn winces.  Masons.

"Masons's like as not rollin' in gold, an' 'avin' a strong guild.  An' if'n yer wantin' them ter do any work fer yer in future, then yer doesn't want ter be upsettin' them, on account of 'ow they'll still be doin' the work fer yer, but they'll be chargin' a arm an' both legs ter be doin' it, an' probably yer ears as well."

The High Justicar nods at Colwyn's assessment, "Yes, that's correct.  We spoke to the Masons' Guild, who arranged for us to meet several of their members to discuss the work that was needed, and the price.  We contracted with one, a man named Feldon, and he arranged for the workers to come and do the job.  From their accents I would say that most of them were from Derindin, which I suppose is why Feldo was able to charge us less than his competitors."

Erista nods knowingly. "You get that sort of thing, hiring the lowest bidder," she advises. Then, in a fit of honesty, allows, "I mean, I haven't heard of a lot of infernal portal borne ghoul infestations, per se, but my cousin Lindsey said their cellar washed out the very next rain and she won't be paying Uncle Theo anytime soon."

With a small sigh, she goes on, "Of course, Uncle Theo says he told her it was the wrong side of the hill before they started, and now he won't come to anything if Lindsey's invited too...". Pausing, she realizes this is perhaps a bit off topic.  "So, you know, it can lead to all kinds of problems. Honestly, you're lucky you just got ghouls."

Regarding Erista with a serious expression, the knight says, "You are right, of course.  A more powerful cultist could have summoned more fell creatures to swarm through the hall.  Fortunately this vile symbol has been marred, and in my experience, it will be difficult to repair.  Especially now that we know of this little trick, and can be prepared for it."

"If we have artisans working on the premises in future, I shall order regular inspections of their work, and guards stationed near them at all times."

Ozzy's face lifts to look at the High Justicar.  "This Feldon.  Does he live here, in Bard's Gate?"

"Yes.  Yes, he does." the High Justicar of Muir responds with a nod.  "When we spoke to him, it was at his home, on Kinemarket Lane, near the East Gate.  Nice chap.  Offered us tea and everything.  Perhaps your party should speak to him?  It could, of course, be pure chance that his workers infested our crypt with undead, or it could be that Feldon put them up to it, so to speak."

Standing with folded arms near the others Arkan listens intently to all the High Justicar had to say about the masons. He is relieved none of the Justicars themselves are involved, otherwise things would have become rather messy.

"Yes, for a Justicar or any member of the Order of Muir to go and arrest a mason could result in problems down the line, especially if you want any more work done. We can pay this Feldon a surprise visit, and see what he has to say." Arkan says, glancing at the ruined circle of dark magic.

Stroking his chin with a hand he turns his head to regard the High Justicar and asks, "What if we find evidence this Feldon was involved? If we end up in a fight and are unable to take him alive, we could be arrested by the Bard's Gate militia."

Aarnr likes the way this is going, but before he can vow to deliver the severed head of this Feldon to the High Justicar personally, Arkan raises a perplexing objection.

"The authorities of this toad-infested, fen-sucked cesspit would take against us when we slay the snake in their midst ?"  He should be shocked, but this merely confirms his already very low opinion of guards and city-folk in general.

"If the pig-nuts are in league with the craven-crawlin', bat-fowlin' bladders, then they shall suffer the same fate !"  The priest states firmly.

"The Order stands in good stead in Bard's Gate, for we have done much to defend its citizens, and at great cost to ourselves." the High Justicar says, waving an arm in the general direction of the various chambers of the crypt.

"Many of the guilds would support us, and you, in whatever action was taken against Feldon, as long as there is evidence of his collusion with the followers of a demon god.  Under those circumstances, he would immediately be declared a traitor to the city, and condemned to death.  Demon worship is not tolerated here.  Indeed, a goodly number of the masons would likely not object to his death or arrest, what with Feldon being in direct competition with them for work."

"And if you have evidence, then the city guard will simply take you in for questioning.  At that point you could present the evidence to them, and they would examine it for themselves and you would be vindicated."

Arkan nods at the High Justicar's words, replying, "Evidence there is enough as you have seen with thine own eyes. Aside from the circle of dark magick here there is also the corpse of a priest of the daemon lord with the vile symbol of the cult still around it's neck. Then of-course we will also have the support and word of the order of Justicars itself yes?"

Hearing Aarnr speak with his traditional gusto Arkan quickly adds, "Forgive my easy to anger friend here. He would never harm an innocent denizen of the city, but his rage comes in mighty handy when dealing with evil doers."

At least that is what Arkan hopes is true; may they never have to put that theory to the test!

Evidence.  That's a tricky one.  Somehow that never came up during the conversations he had with the slave that taught him the common tongue.  Though to be fair, those discussions were liberally punctuated with swearing, shouting and a modicum of violence.  Learning a new language was very frustrating.  But at least now Aarnr was completely confident he'd mastered the volcanoes.

"Wouldn't a severed head be considered froggin' evidence ?" the priest inquires of Eilieen in an uncharacteristically low tone, glaring at anyone who looks as if they might be listening in.

Zadastha's priestess pats Erista's shoulder at the sad tale of her uncle's cellar.  "Family business.  Always a problem," she murmurs.  The priestess purses her lips, pausing.  "But good that no ghouls were involved," she quietly finishes as the Justicar continues.

Demon worship not tolerated here?  Demon worshippers condemned to death?  Eilieen fights the urge to clap her hands together and do a little dance on the spot, instead opting for a solemn nod.  It's not easy, but she manages despite the faint glitter in her eyes.

Arkan, fortunately, is on his toes (thus far, when has he not been?) and manages to smooth over any of Aarnr's faux pas.  Eilieen isn't in the mood for such, as at the moment she's at least in partial agreement with Aarnr.  It won't last, but will probably occur again...at times the two feel like a pair of swinging coconuts: sometimes they smack into each other with a violent crack, sometimes they travel in tandem.

And now, as their mage continues with the diplomacy, Bowbe's priest seeks guidance.  "Hm, no."  As much as she would like to agree (assuming Feldon is guilty of demon worship), in this case clarity is needed.  Quietly.  "Some kind of other proof - things about his house pointing to demon worship, a secret temple dug into his cellar, an unholy symbol hidden under his shirt or the like - will be necessary."  The Zadasthan raises her hand.  "I know, I know.  If he's a demon worshipper, such things are of less import than simply..."  For a long moment she studies Aarnr, then shrugs, unable to actually argue in this circumstance.  "...removing his head and waving it about like a banner as warning for people with similarly moronic ideas.  But for the lawkeepers of the city, we need to prove we didn't kill him for no reason."

Eilieen's explanation might beggar belief to one from the fens, but seems very much in keeping with his low opinion of civil authorities everywhere.  Nor is it any more likely that, as the High Justicar suggests, Aarnr would ever be helping the guard with their inquiries.

So, temples, symbols, demonic paraphernalia, possession of chisels that might be used to carve Dark Portals ... the priest reluctantly nods his acquiescence.

"Thou can find this hell-hated gorger's place of abode ?" he asks Colwyn hopefully.

Colwyn nods enthusiastically, "Aye.  It's bein' dead easy.  We 'as ter be goin' ter the East Gate, an' I's guessin' as that'd be more ter the east end of the city.  Then we needs ter be askin' some cove fer the way ter this 'ere Kinemarket Lane.  An' when we's gettin' there we needs ter be askin' where this 'ere Feldon's livin', an' then... "

"Actually," interjects the High Justicar, "it isn't that complicated.  I can supply you with the location of the house, a description, and instructions for getting there."

"Or else we could be doin' it that way."

"Excellent." Arkan replies to the High Justicar. "We should be on our way then, before the enemy discovers something went wrong, and the raiding party was destroyed before it could do whatever it came here to do."

Pausing for a moment Arkan strokes his chin, thinking about something, then turns his head towards his companions and says, "In fact, interrogating the mason and any of his compatriots could prove to be most useful. We should try to take them alive if at all possible."

He glances meaningfully at both Aarnr and Eileen as he says the last sentence.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Wed 11 May 2016.

Eilieen can't help but giggle at the lackluster agreement Colwyn proffers after the High Justicar's simpler solution.  She can't really blame him - sometimes it's fun to stretch one's abilities a tad, to remind everyone (and oneself!) of what one is capable.  In short, it's nice to do something one has trained to do.

She does, however, lose that smile at Arkan's significant stare, and toes the ground in some embarrassment.  "Alive, yes."  In an effort to patch over the image she may have created, the priestess tugs at Arnrr's arm.  "As Arkan states, we take them alive," she more forcefully notes.  "The more of them we capture, the more information we can extract."  Not torture, of course; that would be far beyond the pale.  "The more information we extract, the more of them we can find."  It's a pretty simple progression, one she's fairly confident Aarnr can follow; it has an attractive end for him, after all (more of the enemies in their hands).

A pause, and she restructures her thinking.  It's a pretty simple progression, one she hopes Aarnr can follow.

Despite Arkan and Eilieen's misgivings, Aarnr is indeed familiar with the concept of leaving a few survivors, though he's a little confused as to why they might want to do so, it seeming a poor return to enslave any follower of Orcus.

"Cut enough bits off and they'll confess," he assures the priestess.