Very rudely wakened by the scream of the dying halfling, Dreamljocht jumps up. Startled he looks around for the tiniest moment to get his bearings. With his scimitar out, his first reaction is to cast one of his spells: Searing Light.
A blast of pure golden-white light, like a ray of the sun, springs fore from the palm of his outstretched left hand. The ray shatters the darkness and hits the monster square in its chest, burning it with the sun's heat.

Dreamljocht rolled 12 using 1d20+4. Initiative.
Dreamljocht rolled 18 using 1d20+8. Concentration.
Dreamljocht rolled 24 using 1d20+7. Ranged touch attack.
Dreamljocht rolled 13 using 3d8. Damage searing light.

TRAVEL GROUP:
The rogue seems to just appear in a nearbye tree, some distance off as the wyvern rips Anton in two. He fires a arrow, hitting its chest hard.

Hissing, it takes flight after getting his meal-unfortuntly only getting half of the halfling. It soars into the air as Gordo stands up, screaming.

Dream's blast its the creature hard but it keeps flying and dissapears into the night sky.

Sam drops down, cold air coming from his lips. Despite not really getting along with anyone right now he doesn't comment, doesn't flinch but stands over the half of the body left behind. Anton's face looking up at him him fear locked in place. He kneels down and puts a hand over its face before standing back up.

The fear remains but his eyes are closed.

His gear lies near the firepit. Seriously are they going to see what he has?

CHURCH:
Off the belfry. Down to the ground. Two more get engulfed. Bad for Ty, they go towards the door and it begins to burn but they soon start to perish. So many of them, so little time. Yet it starts to come down harder now and the zombies seems to be really getting nowhere but it seems like the church is surrounded. At least its safe for now. Yet where the cocktails shattered, some of the zombies move towards it. Its like slow motion. They seem attractive to it. After some time they seem to move off. Still near the church but they seem to stop moving. Maybe they are freezing solid. Hard to tell.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:45, Mon 15 May 2023.

Gordo lets out a scream of frustration and a set of juicy profanities. He runs over to Anton, seeing he is really, truly, very much dead. He kneels beside him a short moment to honor him, then goes to where he can see the ground is the softest, and starts digging with his bare hands, quiet in contemplation.

Dreamljocht is shocked by the sudden death of the halfling. Allthough they had wounded the wyvern, he had done his brute work and the remnants from Anton are even too few for him to do anything. It would have taken a far stronger cleric to raise Anton from his untimely death.
He sits next tot the body and lays one hand on the head and one on the heart from the sorcerer and started to pray the elegie for the dead as given to him by his patron goddess. His lips moved and someone very close to him could have understand the words, but from a few feet it sounded like a continuous mumbling.
He stops only to warn Gordo: "You don't need to make more than a shallow dig as the ground will be most frozen. It is only a small dead body and we can burry it under a heap of stones easier. I'll help you when I'm ready with my prayers."

Ater a while the mumbling stopped and Dreamljocht came up with a heavy sigh. He started to collect small rocks and big stones to protect the body from any predator that would come close. To Sam he says: "Would you search his backpack. May be we can find the name of someone we can send notice about his death when we reach the habited world again. And if we can use some of his gear for the better of our group, it is pointless to leave it here."

Tyrael rubbed her hands together and blew on them to warm them up.  The molotov cocktails seemed to be doing their job, but not fast enough.  She'd have to put together some more and see how the cold was affecting the undead.  It looked like the freezing temperatures were slowing them and in some cases stopping them altogether.  That would be better than risking burning down the church.

Tyrael moved back to the wagon and prepared some more molotovs.

TRAVEL GROUP:
Sam spits at the ground, listening to the cleric and the mass profanities getting hurled by the monk. No emotion. He goes over to the backpack and kneels down, flipping it open but the man looks up. He raises a hand, eyes narrowed. Maybe he heard something?

CHURCH:
After the fighter goes to get some more gear and readies them up, about four of them all of a sudden everything goes quiet. No undead slamming into the walls. Just silence. The bear cub is curled up in the back of the wagon, seeming to be asleep.

Gordo realizes that although what just happened really is a shock and a lot to take in, he lost his calm - which as a monk, he shouldn't. He goes into total silence, just as Sam raises his hand. Did he hear something? Gordo thinks to himself, and tries to listen and look around.
13:39, Today: Gordo Vet rolled 34 using 1d20+14.  Perception.
Natural 20!

Tyrael paused, not moving.  Her elven hearing seeking out any sound.  Silence could be good or it could be really bad.  Stuffing the explosive vials into a pouch on her belt, the Half-Elf slowly crept to a window to look out.  Could she have gotten lucky and the undead horde had wandered off?

Dreamljocht was still thinking about the death of the halfling, when he noticed the reaction of Sam. He tilted his head, listening. Gordo heard something tto, he saw. He listened carefully: would the wyvern return? That could be devastating: he started to ready his spell Prayer, in case of emergency.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Dreamljocht rolled 24 using 1d20+8.  Perception

---

TRAVEL GROUP:
"Heard something. Faint." Sam stands up, eyes narrowed in the direction he heard it in. The monk and cleric heard it as well. But its hard to tell what it was. Maybe it was their imagination? Almost like a whistle?

CHURCH:
Oddly, when the warrior looks out, there is no bodies. No sign of the 'bombs'. Nothing. Just snow upon snow. Creepy.

"Me too," Gordo whispers back. "I think we should head for the cover of the trees," he says, but doesn't go yet - waiting to make sure the others are also coming.

Quiet and quick Dreamljocht gathered all his gear, and also the backpack of the late halfling, before moving in the direction the sound seemed to come from, looking and listening for anything that could give away what was waiting them and there. He heard nothing special.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
12:42, Today: Dreamljocht rolled 11 using 1d20+8.  Perception.

---

Tyrael looked out the window for some time, occasionally moving to another window to get a better view.  She did not trust what she saw, or rather, what she did not see.  It made no sense.  A horde of undead just simply vanish?  Not only that, there did not seem to be any sign of the firebombs that she had thrown.

What in the hells was going on?

Tyri leaned against the wall of the church beside the window.  Could it have been an illusion?  To what end?  She remained at the window, looking out occasionally while trying to figure out what had happened.

TRAVEL GROUP:
The rogue does the same thing to the best of his knowledge, hoping for some sort of replay but louder. He waits, listening as Dream goes into the halflings belongings-something that isn't real cleric like. But more...rogue like. To each their own-Sam supposes burying the dead with all their gear doesn't really work. Course he's steal it anyway.

Rogue.

Dream lays out the following gear-either some of it was lost, used or on the 'other half of the well halfling!'

*Sorcerer’s kit
abedroll,
aflint & steel
iron pot
mess kit
soap
torches (10)
trail rations (5) days
waterskin)
Ink
Inkpen
Parchment (sheet)
Sack
Scroll cas (Nothing inside)
Silk rope
Waterproof bag
Whetston
Honey (jar)
Water purification spnge

Magical Gear
Potions of CLW  (3)
Ioun Torch  Floats as Ioun Stone w. Continual Light cast upon it
Potion of Vanish (1)


CHURCH:
Its quiet. Perhaps too quiet but its nighttime. The occasional sound from above comes down to the ground. Probably snow. It starts to come down hard. Nothing creeps up from the ground or anywhere else. Pretty dismal but it seems safe enough.

Dreamljocht searches Anton's pack. He saw Sam looking. With a tired grimace he says: "I hoped to find some trace of who Anton was or where he came from, but nothing. I'll take the potions and the ioun torch for the benefit of our group. I'm not interested in his gear itself. Both of you can take what you need. It would be a waste to give it over to the wilderness and its predators."
He split the potions of Cure Light Wounds and gave one to Sam and Gordo each. The ioun torch and one potion he took himself. Looking at the potion of vanish, he looks at Sam: "This one suits you best," and hands it Sam.

Gordo takes the potion handed to him, but he doesn't touch any of the rest - barely even looks at it.
"Whichever equipment you don't want we either bury or burn," he says, and walks a couple of paces away, looking watchfully and restlessly to the distance.

Tyrael stayed at the windows for a little while longer, moving between them when she felt the need to warm up, or stay awake.  She couldn't take watch for the entire night.  She'd have to get some rest at some point.  "Where are you, Dream?  Hailie?  Anton?" she muttered softly to herself.  "I'd even welcome Sams company right now, sour stares and all.  How desperate does that make me?"

Heading back to the wagon, Tyrael checked on the animals.  Finding some rope and assorted jingly things, she set up some simple alarms at the doors and windows.  Hopefully, if something tried to break in, the jingly bits would make enough noise to wake her.

TRAVEL GROUP:
Sam's attention goes back to the north, eyes narrowed. He nods his head to Dream and after a moment he goes back to the bag and grabs it but hoists it up and places it on a higher tree branch after Gordo probably looks through it. Sam does grab the honey, waterproof bag, sponge and waterskin. His attention keeps moving towards the north, eyes narrowed.

*Sorcerer’s kit
Beddroll,
Flint & steel
iron pot
mess kit
soap
torches (10)
trail rations (5) days
waterskin-Sam
Ink
Inkpen
Parchment (sheet)
Sack
Scroll cas (Nothing inside)
Silk rope
Waterproof bag-Sam
Whetstone
Honey (jar)-Sam
Water purification spnge-Sam

Magical Gear
Potions of CLW  (3) -Sam, Dream and Gordo
Ioun Torch  Floats as Ioun Stone w. Continual Light cast upon it-Dream
Potion of Vanish (1)-San


CHURCH:
The bears yawns and goes back to sleep as it slowly gets down and flops to the floor. It grumbles and curls up next to Tyr. Once she is done, she begins to drift off to sleep after tending to the animals and putting up her makeshift 'alarm'. The church is quiet besides the tumbling down of snow to the ground. Nothing creeps up, nothing makes any sound with the 'alarm'. Its very eery.

It was an uneasy sleep, with every small noise causing Tyrael to wake with her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword.  She hated nights like this and she knew that she was going to be tired in the morning, but there really was no other option.  This was why she much preferred to travel with a group.  At least when there was a hint of danger around.

If the rest of the party had gone off and gotten themselves killed without telling her, Tyrael was going to be vexed.  She didn't know for how much longer she was going to be able to stay here.

Gordo, somewhat reluctantly it seems, thinks better and goes over to the equipment. With a slight bow of the head he thinks, I'm sorry, friend. He takes the potion offered to him, and also throws into his backpack the sack, flint & steel, torches and rations, and ties the rope on the outside of his backpack.

Dreamljocht sees Sam's attention for something in northern direction. "What do you hear we don't seem to hear? Something that sheds light on Halie's fate, or on any new danger that waits for us?"
Dreamljocht stands utterly silent and listens intently.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
21:34, Today: Dreamljocht rolled 20 using 1d20+8.  Perception.

---

TRAVEL GROUP:
The rogues attention keeps focused, and Dream can hear it. A whistle, similar to what Haile used to find her horse "You hear that? We need to keep moving forwards."

*Sorcerer’s kit
Beddroll,
Flint & steel-Gordo
iron pot
mess kit
soap
torches (10)-Gordo
trail rations (5) days-Gordo
waterskin-Sam
Ink
Inkpen
Parchment (sheet)
Sack-Gordo
Scroll cas (Nothing inside)
Silk rope-Gordo
Waterproof bag-Sam
Whetstone
Honey (jar)-Sam
Water purification spnge-Sam

Magical Gear
Potions of CLW  (3) -Sam, Dream and Gordo
Ioun Torch  Floats as Ioun Stone w. Continual Light cast upon it-Dream
Potion of Vanish (1)-San


CHURCH:
Sliding keeps being heard as Ty sleeps. She wakes up, feeding the fire and the bear wakes up once more, whining.

Gordo, looking at the darkness, hopes in his heart that pushing forward in this situation won't place them in more danger than they can handle. "Lead the way," he says to Sam simply.

"It sounds as Halie, but I can't hardly belief. But let's have a look. Sam lead us, as your hearing seems best." Dreamljocht takes up his gear and steps behind Sam in the right direction, where he thought to have heard the whistling.

Tyrael had been stoking the fire when the bear cub started whining.  She looked over at the cub with a sympathetic look.  "Yeah, I know cubby.  You miss Hailie.  So do I.  The others will find her and then bring her back here safe and sound."  she told the young animal.

She looks at the roof as she hears the sliding sound again.  "There's a lot of activity for such an abandoned church.  Is it the noise that bothering you?"