A nod to Frederick's speech about the possibly body.  He stands to introduce himself to David.


"I am Hawkmoon, Crusader of Mayaheine, a knightly order from apparently far away.  I am pleased to meet you, Sire Von Ersch."

He will eventually tuck into some breakfast when offered, more or less relaxed now that the sun is up.

Softly chuckling as Frederick spoke "You give me to much credit old friend, I wouldnt be capable of keeping in check such verocious creatures. Well, not yet anyways .." *coughs*

Sipping tea "I do not hold a title Sir Knight, you certainly must come from afar as Ive not heard of this order before. Only thing is I wonder if you got sucked into this place for whatever dark reason the gods seem fit. I hope your wits are as sharp as that sword of yours."

A woeful shake of his head, he glances at the hilt of his bastard sword and pats it.

"Then poor times indeed, for this sword has far from a razor edge.. it relies on it's size to injure... "

In reply to Frederick (msg # 344):

"Ah, it sounds like the woman perished, then. May God have mercy on her soul." He felt a little guilty, as he'd suspected her as somehow being involved in the attack, or at least thought she acted very suspiciously.

"Once we're done I'll go see to her remains."

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 348):

"I will help you Boris." When it was time she would rise, rather stiffly and prepares to help with what was left of the woman.


-

"As will I, Sire Underhill.  Perhaps some comfort can be given to her soul.  At least now she should no longer be frightened."

David smiled ".. it always is the size rhat matters .."

Looking about nearly all chipped in right away to give the bones a needed funeral. It did mean head back towards the deeper end of the swamp. But, the majority had voted. And such was the laws of physics. One went with the larger group. Safety in numbers, and such.

"Just, .. if you might want an answer I have means to wrest them away from the deceast. If .. you are not bothered with the ways. Offcourse"

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 351):

Finishing his food while the others converse Stoney is simply quiet.
with the agreement to lay the bones to rest, he pipes in.
"I agree, lets put the woman to rest, then be on our way."
Then even though early, takes a longer than normal sip of his wine.

A nod to David.  Truth is truth.  Size does matter.

"I am not unopposed.  It is sad that she bolted from the ring of our protection.  Maybe something can be done that will allow her soul to rest, a sort of apology for being unable to save her life."

David thinks, muses something rather incomprehensible. Sounding rather 'arcanish', in a .. dark manner of speaking

"It will basically only let her answer with yes or no of sorts, no full answers. Afterall. Its .. deceased. But perhaps .. as it may not have died a long period ago it will remember more then if I was to dig up a mummy of sorts"

He shakes his head slightly.

"I think we should let her rest in peace then, I hope she can.  Think we should bring her remains out of this cursed swamp to bury her?"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 355):

"I am open to any ideas, but lets pack up and go.  I really don't want to be in the swamp for another night."
Tipping up his wine canteen upside down, that is now empty.  Possibly he has other reasons to get to a city.

Boris sipped his tea, considering the ramifications.

"disturbing the sleep of the dead doesn't seem respectful.

"But our main goal here is to track and locate the lair of the Saracens. If her spirit can provide guidance, then perhaps it is worth it.

"Besides, we also need direction on where her village is. Unless any of you good folks remember where that might be?"

Taking a sip from the tea "Disturbing dead folk would be digging up corpses and putting them to work for you that could be done just as easiky by the living. Asking a corps questions before its put to rest .. I dont think that falls underneath disturbing it. Although, there might be abit of a grey area there. I'll admit reluctantly. Offcourse. We could possible find out abit from those that slay her and let her in such a rather uncomfortable state. But, it is up to you. I'll gladly aid in putting her to rest so she wont rise again."

Nodding to the halfling "See, the .." smiling ".. Boris here knows to work the grey area. Listen to the boy."

Sips

"Simply my opinion.  Done respectfully I doubt there is any harm"

I concur.  As long as it is done before her corpse is interred then it is not a disturbance.  We should also ask her about the boy she was looking for.

Nodding towards the knight "I agree Sir .. " with a sly smile ".. I might dabble into the more greyshades of the law and its etiquette. But I assure you, there are far greater evils then me riding a dead horse."

Holding up his hands, chuckling "Oh yes, talking to dead folk really is not whatvIm doing all the time to kee company, they seldom are fine companions. They rarely give answers you want to hear. Mostly answering with simple yes and no. Thus if you want information think. They are restless if you rattle them to much beyond the grave. I can wrest a few yesses and No-s from them. Before I'll annoy them and .. well .. we dont want that to happen. now do we ?"

The knight shrugs, looking to the horse a moment.

"There is no evil in animating the poor animal's remains, is he a good steed for you even in death, then?"

David mused "A shady area this, some would say any dead thing should remain dead. Others wouldnt agree at all. But, as an answer .. its brought me here didnt it, no wet smelly boots. So, the answer is yes. I suppose it has .. is .. still a good steed."

Getting up leaning sleightly on the staff. "Well, shall we proceed to locate the remains. Ask what we can and .. make sure the poor girl wont rise again."

It is not difficult to discern the path she and her pursuers would have taken as the foliage has been quite trampled leaving a very obvious trail.

Hawkmoon helps break down camp, and will accompany companions to the body.

"If only she had not run."

Boris nodded at that. He'd forgotten she was looking for someone else, her brother, perhaps?

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 366):

Stoney has read about individuals whom can speak with the dead, and even raise the dead, but never met one.  Or never met one whom admitted to doing such things. As small talk:
"Very interesting.  I am curious, David, how do you speak to the dead?  Do you call upon your god, or use the energy surrounding us all to communicate with them?  I have only met very devout priests whom can raise the dead, and read stories of those who can communicate with those passed."  Asked in a non interrogative, nice way as possible.  Trying not to offend.

Turning towards the 'kid' David eyed the little human intensively. As if trying to look through him. But then chuckled (in between coughs) "Gods ? Gods ? Here. The only god that is worth worshipping is me." Holding up his arms into the sky and waving spookily then chuckling

"No, not really .. it is all part of the magic. Pronounce the words correctly and you can draw upon the energy that is everywhere. For good, .. bad .. evil .. or somewhere in-between, it really doesn't give you a manual when magic used is evil, I could raise a demon only to have it fight another one. is that evil ? Raising demons itself might be. But .. the purpose of using it might make the difference between keeping your sanity intact or losing it. Either way, raising the dead in these parts is highly unrecommended. These things seem to create an occasional misformed mutation. Only those with a vast knowledge can even try to perform it with a somewhat less likely mutation. And even then the magic used in itself is dangerous. So you see .. even myself am walking a fine knives edge. I've been staring into the abyss for a long time my little friend. It is only when .. not if .. it will start to return its gaze. I merle can hope my sanity will remain intact for as long as I may live"

Frederick nods his head.

Shaping the magic around us takes it toll on any mage.  Theose who deal in life magic suffer more than the rest of us.  I suspect a tiny part of their own essence is lost into the shaping each time.