Somberly, the party carries the corpse of their fallen comrade up the spiral staircase to the mansion above.

As one, they stop. Were they hearing things, or was that music?

That was definitely a string instrument.

As they emerge, they find Sir Einhard's horse (that you feared was lost, stolen by a goblin) and Sasar's mule, standing entranced with ears facing forward, facing a foppishly dressed individual playing a lute.

Still carrying the lifeless body of the fallen thief, Sir Einhard paused at the sight of the stranger with his horse. "You there! What are you doing with our steeds? Identify yourself or face a fate similar to that of the thief in my arms."

Brother Brodd looked on in wonder at the man playing the lute for the animals. The music was quite enchanting, so he didn't wonder why the animals listened.

Regdoc obliged Chomper by allowing the large guard dog go sniffing around the burned out house and grounds. "Don't burn your paws. Following the Sacred Path won't be easy if you can't walk..." Chomper didn't seem to care for the oldster's advice.

Regdoc searched around to see if a shovel had perhaps survived the inferno. If not, he agreed that a cairn would be in order. "Amalrik, why don't you and Thud begin gathering what stones you can find. I'll look for something to dig with."

"Chomper! Get over here and guard me you mongrel! I don't know why I put up with you running off and chewing on rancid goblin corpses. Don't you dare lick me with that tongue! I know where it's been!"

Yagi admires the stranger's form of attire.

"Hey Mistah Wong, hooman playing funny thing mebba you sing wid it and start band?"

Thud walks up to the fellow and grins. "Hey, there fella. Nice lute. I'm Thud, and this is my gang. Can you play us a funeral dirge? We have to bury a friend of ours. Her name was Izzy."

In reply to Einhard (msg # 2):

"Oh, calm down, Einhard," said Creston, following close behind the knight. "You can't steal and play the lute at the same time. Those zombies sure have you on edge."

Amalrik tends his wounds as best as possible, quite well beaten up. Then begins looking for suitable rocks to use.

Alietra was around as well, wiping vine-zombie goop from her blade.

Well, don't everyone thank me all at once, for killing *two* of your enemies!  she thought uncharitably.  Or, whatever the hell happens to a zombie when you gouge its spine out.

Ah, she knew she'd gotten lucky. And they hadn't even seen her in the shadows, probably.   And, they'd lost one of their own, that was so sad...

Bard?  That got her attention.    She'd been named after a character in a bard's song...some princess with a healing heart, and a magical castle, or such crap. Her parents were kooks!  She'd known quite a few bards and minstrels in her previous gig as a barmaid.  Lots of fun to have around, yep...

Sasar let the others do the talking while he looked on to this bard  to see if it was a set up for an ambush.

Satisfied nothing was going on, he helped Thud carry and load the metal on his mule. I’m

"Ahhh, there you are!" Brodd says to Alietra. "We want to thank you for helping with the zombies, sadly, we lost our stealthy person in the attack. She was well skilled! I am called Brother Brodd, how are you known?"

Einhard looked at Creston, "What? It looks to me like he's using his charming music to lure our mounts away. Pretty music doesn't make a man harmless." He glances back at Alietra "Are you with him?" he asked as he pointed toward the bard.

"Yes, I know him!  Watch out!  He's got a molotov cocktail in his lute!!"
  She waved her hands. "Haha, only kidding!   Not seen him before.  I came out here expecting a winery, and found this crazy combo of cursed burial ground and really bad gardening.   What's the story with his place, anyway?" 

She eyed Brodd, and figured this was the holy man, and maybe their leader, too.  The 'Brother' bit confirmed the first of those.

"I'm Alietra.  Ali to most. I can move around pretty quietly, when I need to.  I used to work in a library," she lied.  "You had to be quiet.  Also, sometimes the locks on the scroll cases would jam, and you had to jimmy them.  Sometimes, somebody would get out of hand, 'cause they couldn't find the right scroll, and you had to take them out from behind." She shrugged. "So I've learned a few things."   

The young bard comes out softly strumming a sad tune on his lute, keeping an inconspicuous eye out for his coin purse. The song was intended to lament the loss of a dear friend.

"I don't know the whole story, perhaps someone else does?"

"Alietra. Sir Einhard, here," he said with a slight nod of his head, the best he could do with Iffy's body in his arms. "Your aid back there is appreciated. I don't think any of us really know much about this place. We were on our way to find the Baron's daughter, my niece, and ran in to some goblins overrunning this place."

He walked over to his horse, laid Iffy's body across it's rear haunches, and shook out his arms. "Ahh, she's heavier than she looks." He turned to face the young bard. "Thank you for calming my steed and the mule. Apologies for my initial reaction. You know how it is when the adrenaline is pumping."

Einhard turned to address the growing crowd of potential adventurers and spoke loudly so all could here "We are looking for my niece and should any of you newcomers wish to join us, I will tell the Baron of your good deeds. I am certain he will reward you for your assistance. But first we must bury our fallen, and then we shall be on our way shortly should you care to join us."

Should we bury her with the family in their cemetary? Or just build a cairn over her off to the side over there? he said pointing to a corner of the yard. "I don't know if it will be rebuilt or not."

"I think we should bury her on ground already hallowed for that purpose. Judging from all the destruction, she may be the last person to ever be interred there."

"I tend to agree with you, it would be best in the family cemetary." he nods agreement. "I suggest we spread out a little bit and find it, no doubt it is close about the house."

In reply to Brother Brodd (msg # 11):

"I am Harald, a bard from the college. A pleasure to meet you. It is a shame to hear that one you were closed to passed away."

Brodd nodded and said "thank you."

The pixie peeks out the door and smiles as the rays of morning light shine through the smouldering remains of what was once a bountiful vinyard.

"I'll find the graveyard easily! Especially if there's no trees left to get in the way!"

He steps outside, slips off his backpack and takes a leap. His wings spread and vibrate to fast to be seen, rising up into the air.

Barely a minute later you hear rush of air and a blood-curdling scream.

"What happened?! Anyone see Eron?" Brodd says.

"Yeah, he buzzed off a few seconds ago. Sounds like he crashed into a tree. We should look for him."

Brodd quickly runs in the direction the pixie flew off in. Looking wide eyed to spy any sign of the minuscule Eron.

You are attracted to the shine of one of his darts. You follow fresh droplets of blood and find his bloody and shredded sword belt with the weapon still inside.

As you hear a booming roar echo like laughter from the woods, the dismal feeling that the sun will never shine on your friend Eron Windblade in this world again washes over you.

Your only solace is he left his sack behind so it wouldn't weigh him down for the short reconnaissance.

Inside you find:

  garlic
  holy water x3
  iron rations
  mirror
  oil x3
  sack, small
  string
  tinderbox
  wineskin

"By the Gods he's dead! I can't tell for sure what happened, but something got him!"

Brodd goes over to examine his friend Eron, "I told you to watch yourself! First Iffy, now Eron!"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

"Oh, Mistah Wong, dis not be good, two at one time."

Thud nods. "Thanks. Me too. Say, you any good in a fight? We could use another arm. We're adventurers."



Thud bends down and sheds some tears for Eron. He then takes Eron's holy water. You know, in his memory.

Brodd gives up the search for Eron's body and continues to look for the cemetery plot to bury Iffy.

After it is located, he begins to gather stones to build cairns over the body, "I don't have a shovel, so a cairn will have to do, Eron's should be easy if we find him. A raptor may have taken him, a hawk maybe." he says with a tear in his eye over the two dead friends. The party was getting smaller, he wondered about the bard.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Thu 28 Mar 2019.

There were gardening tools in one of the rooms on the main level. A couple shovels at least. Probably a pick and a couple rakes too.

"Does anyone have a shovel, perhaps in the house?"

Ali could not help herself from having humorous images of the pixie being struck down with an iron, spiked, fly-swatter.     It was terrible of her, she knew that...she stifled that, and offered to help:

"I'll go see what I can find, Brother Brodd,"   with that she left for the main level of the place.   Keeping eyes and ears peeled, as she went.

She finds them easily enough, making her way past the bloodstains where dead goblins were when she entered. Strange...maybe they were the ones that reanimated and followed them down?

She returned with the implements, proffering them to any strong-arms who were going to dig.    Destiny had not cast her as a shoveler.  That much she was sure of.

Ah yes, missing goblin stiffs-   "Hey, folks, listen:  there were some dead goblins at the entry when I first came in.  And those are gone, now.  Just thought you should know."     

"Manticore? Eh?! Eron Windblade, you little runt, this had better not be one of your games! I'll feed you to Chomper wings first, I'll... oh... oh my... And Iffy, you too..." Regdoc seemed to be straddling that line between reality and... something else. A blurring of realms that was difficult to define. He raised a gnarled hand and wiped it over his eyes, then tugged a few times on his whiskers - which looked rather painful in execution.

"Gone both of you... May the Path be warm beneath your feet." Regdoc sighed as he held up one hand in a time-honored gesture of both welcome and farewell.

Turning back to the others who were at work digging graves and gathering stones, Regdoc announced, "It was a manticore, or perhaps something equally terrifying, that got him. Don't ask me how I know unless you're willing to sit for the full lecture. But we've not time for lectures at the moment. We have time to get our dusty b-, ahem, boots on the road before this creature's next meal-time! Make your farewells quick and let's go!"

Regdoc appeared to have come out of the fire, the basement and the subsequent battles completely unscathed, though most of them had seen him nearly come to the end of his career. Now though, his clothing seemed a bit less tattered, his cheeks not quite so hollow, and Chomper was packing a meaty hunk in his large and toothy mouth. It might appear that in the coincidental moment they'd all blinked an eye, something out of the ordinary had occurred in that small space of time between heartbeats.

"Believe me or don't! But I believe me and Chomper here believes me and you all had better believe me!"

Regdoc had begun to shuffle up the road the direction they'd originally come from with Chomper trotting happily behind him with his supper in his teeth.


OOC: Yes, it appears Regdoc's sanity is momentarily intact. He has strong reason to believe a manticore is nearby - and it's hungry still.

After he finishes burying Iffy, Brodd prays silently over her grave then follows after Regdoc.

Amalrik says silent words to Crom about the lives of both parties. Obeisance to the gods done, it is time for the living to get on with matters. Which way do we go ??

Thud pointed at Regdoc. "Follow the crazy guy!" Which, of course, Thud does.

"Where do we go Regdoc?"

After ensuring the group was done burying the fallen, Einhard mounted his steed and rode to catch up with the others as they made their way down the road. "Regdoc, you feeling OK? What's this talk of manticores? You know something about that place you aren't sharing?" he said as he motioned back toward the winery.

The old Seeker turned back. "No. I know nothing of this place save what we've seen and learned to this point. Believe me or not, I was warned. By Eron himself... There's danger if we stay, and little to nothing to be gained."

He straightened a bit, and his rheumy eyes seemed to focus on each of them. "I've not made it this far down the Wanderer's Way without paying attention to such warnings. They mostly come as thoughts and feelings, but sometimes I see... more. Let's talk about it on the road. Back to the Crossroads for now, and then we should continue on our quest."

The wildness returned to his eyes and he began to grumble at his ever-patient and loyal hound. Chomper gave the dog-like equivalent of a shrug and padded ahead of Regdoc up the road.

"What's dat Mistah Wong? I tink de old dude said it was a "Manitowoc", I tink mebbe it be sumtin dem hooman farmers use.

Crazy iffing ya axe me."

OOC - I used to work for Manitowoc Crane. ;-)