Watching as the monster collapses on to Dwarghar, he is relieved to see Dwarghar survived. Dismounting he walked over to where Einhard had landed when he was knocked from his mount to check on him and see what assistance he might need. "Brother Brodd you may want to come over here and check on Einhard, he may be in need of your assistance."

Pock! I've been watchin' out fer you through those tunnels! Have ye fergotten me?

Brodd made his way to Einhard, seeing his almost fatal wounds he began to pray over him. Silently mouthing the words with his eyes closed while fingering his holy symbol.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:26, Sun 29 Mar 2020.

Catweazel is quite happy to stay quietly in the background, and as the others quiz Starshell he makes his way to the now dead beast and gives its blubbery belly a kick.

He then seems to just stand silent for a moment, not silent, but whispering to himself as though saying a quiet prayer over the fallen creature.

In reply to Brother Brodd (msg # 60):

[1d6+1]

11:31, Today: Brother Brodd rolled 2 using 1d6+1.  CLW. Bad roll, Sorry Einhard.

Amalrik sees what he can do to dig out/recover Dararghar. Maybe this blubbery mass only stunned him underneath it ... If two heroes are gone, it will be a long sad night.

Puck clasps the dwarf's hands, "If you say it is true, friend, then it must be true, for I could not have survived without a true friend such as you."

The gnome studies the dwarf as he pokes about for any ingested treasures. Nothing comes to mind. He just sees some crazed fur-wearing man dancing about in a midden of innards.

Dwarf friend, dwarf friend, dwarf friend, Puck repeats to himself.

It is grim work, cutting away the monster's neck where it connects to the body. She has to do it astride her horse, but eventually it falls away.

"Steady girl, steady..."

She wipes the blade clean and sheathes it, then reaches her arm into the wound...

"Do you want a trophy on your wall perhaps, milady?"

The moon elf crosses his arms and curiously watches as Lady Starlight hacks the beast's head off.

"I have seen people do it before. Hunters, like me, when they have killed a quarry they greatly respect. But you... and this doesn't look like a respectable quarry, though..."

After Brodd's handiwork; Einhard rises unsteadily.

"It's dead?

What was that thing?

Any casualties?"

She looks down at the moon elf scornfully.

"That woman gave her life to save me. The least I could do is retrieve her body for a decent burial!"

:We lost Kalandra Einhard, we barely knew her!"

It was about that time when a heated argument could be heard coming up the road approaching the scene of the recent violence. One side of the exchange was championed by one Regdoc Y'narc, a Seeker of the Wandering God. His foe in this particularly confrontational debate was an up-and-coming minstrel known as Harald the Herald whose gift for eloquence had been shelved for frequent and sharply barbed vehemence!

"I've walked more steps in my life than the combined armies of the thirty-two minor Duchies of Greater Grendelmarch! The One Who Wanders guides my steps! I never get..."

The old cleric's jaw dropped nearly to the dirt road upon which the two were trodding, followed by an extremely large - and bored-looking - pack dog.

"...lo s _t..."

Chomper sneezed, obviously a canine cover-up for repressing laughter, then padded over to sniff about the dead monster.

Meanwhile Regdoc stood scratching the back of his head and mumbling obscure curse words at the bard's distractions.

"HARK! Look yonder you old goat! There, on the field of battle, are our stalwart companions! We've missed the fight entirely! Bloody deeds will now be forgotten to the fading memory of Time for I was not here to witness them and put quill to parchment for the preservation of this day's heroic sacrifice! Oh that you'd have heeded my pleas to take the leftward path at yonder fork! Your devotion to that ancient religion... has blinded you, and it's made us late!"

The Herald took his leave of the bewildered cleric without even begging his pardon, and rushed to the scene of the fray. "Pray tell, what is this vile creature and whence its origin?"

Seeing the body of Kalandra, the overly melodramatic minstrel wailed, "If only we'd been here sooner! Perhaps..."

"In that case, milady, it is far more effective to go straight to the stomach... like this."

The elf walks over the behemoths corpse, unsheathing his dagger while he walks there, and slices the monster's stomach open with one brisk cut. Then he pulls out the creature's intestines with both hands. Smell, viscera and blood doesn't bother Manaku as he looks for Kalandra's body from cavity of its torso.

"Forgive my boldness, Lady Starshell. I have disemboweled many creatures in my lifetime. Big or small, the basic physiology remains same..."

Tactfully, Pock remains quiet even as the narcissistic bard proclaimed his arrival and the ashen-hued elf went about his ghoulish business.

He speaks quietly to Dwarghar, "Dwarf friend, are we a party of big game hunters? Do we go on safaris, hunting the pride of the pride?"

"Brodd, please see to Kalandra.

Looking at Regdoc and Harald...

"Please assist the others who have need.

And who is the warrior woman?

Dwarghar chuckles. Lost your memory eh?

No, Pock - you are a Gnome, you are well known for being clever and crafty. You can use magic illusions to defend yourself and confuse your enemies and your people are known to have made Wildly complicated artifices as toys weapons and other machines. Your folk were living in a mountain full of such wonders you were frozen there for how long none can say and are the only survivor of those people. This knightly longshanks fellow is Sir, Einhard- he and his friend the priest Brodd are trying to find some woman wot ran away from the kingdom or was taken by evil monsters I don’t know. We have been collected along the way and remain together for mutual defense as we wander through this dangerous and desolate place.

I have nothing left for me in this world so I wander with these insane folk I suspect the same of you. But if you remember some other place of your people and wish to wander there you are free to do some among us may even join you if you wish.

The Lady stands back, covering her mouth with her unbloodied gauntlet as the monster's innards spill out. Including several bodies. Kalandra's is the most intact. You also see the glint of silver on one of the near-skeletal remains.

The Lady turns to the Knight.

"You don't recognize your own sister in law, Einhard? My shield is too bloodied to discern my heraldry, 'tis true. And mayhap I was still a young thing when last we met. I was flower girl to your wedding, remember? How confused I was,looking for the bride to follow!"

She laughs softly, reflecting on more innocent days.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:24, Tue 31 Mar 2020.

Amalrik will help Manaku pull the belated Kalandra's remains from the beastly innards. Then he will wander about finding adequate wood for a funeral pyre. Sad tidings indeed.

Ha! I knew it!

So mission’s over eh? Which way now?
The Dwarf says

"I truly may have taken a hard a hit as Pock, I didn't recognize you nor could I imagine the little flower maiden as a warrior of some prowess.

My apologies and my accolades for a great accomplishment.

Sadly, one of our own has paid the final price.

What are your plans at the moment?"

She steps carefully through the oozing remains and pulls out Kalandra’s boathook that had been lodged deep in the creature’s back.

”I must continue to Castle Braunstein with my trusted advisor Catweazel, our court Wizard. Surely with a war band this large we can defeat the Minotaur and anything he throws at us!”

She hands the spear to Einhard with respect due to its previous owner.

”It seems your Gnome has lost senses from the shock of battle. I do hope he recovers. But you are still injured, Brother.”

She lays a hand upon his armor where the blood is still sleeping through.

[Lay on Hands - 2 points]

”I am no Cleric, but Valoria has granted me some healing gifts.”

Manaku kneels and gently wipes off gore from Kalandra's face. He bents over towards her face and out of habit checks if she is still breathing - while already knowing she is not.

"We should bury her."

Noticing the glint of silver the elf also pulls out half-digested skeletal remains.

"Something gleaming there... what do we have here, on this unfortunate fellow?"