"If it's trying to get us to leave, I'd feel safe putting money on this druid-lich thing not belonging to it," Caleb said to Voh'ren. "Besides, like I said, too many stories say this thing can be talked into helping you if you amuse it for it to not be true. Speaking of, any ideas on how to amuse it? I've got a deck of cards and some dice, you think See-abreys like odds and evens or poker?"

"Maybe we cannot see her because she is an illusion we are not meant to see, but they are." The young Kitsune said in thought. "Though you all have had more ties to Whisper then I have. I've only had one dream, then nothing."

"Still, we are here with a purpose, let's get to it." She said with a small nod. "So we can put this person to flame."

Continuing into the field of barrows, you find yourselves moving among the graves. It's hard to keep track of your position among the hillocks, with no landmarks and little to distinguish one barrow from another.

Whisper has vanished again.

Perception, please.

22:23, Today: Hester Darkeye rolled 23 using 1d20+9.  Perception.

OOC:

16:23, Today: Voh'ren Wildheart rolled 17 using 1d20+11.  Perception. *sigh*

ooc: 22:30, Today: Caleb Miller rolled 32 using 1d20+14 ((18)).

After it was clear that Whisper was no longer with them, Bristle took a minute to cast a geographical spell upon herself before they got too far into the barrows. Hopefully it would help keep them from getting lost, and might even provide some other insights later. Additionally, Bristle kept her eyes peeled for dangers and interests as their group ventured forth.

---

Casting Lay of the Land upon myself.

23:57, Today: Bristle Chonk rolled 24 using 1d20+6.  Perception

Bristle feels the approach of death. Caleb smells dry earth, humus, and dust. Hester hears the slow drag of footsteps approaching, in no particular rush, but with a certain weight of inevitability to them.

All of the above are coming from behind one of the barrows on the left.

Hester turns to face that which is coming with her crossbow loaded and cocked but not aimed.

19:13, Today: Firea rolled 3 using 1d20.  Perception.

"Hostile inbound at ten," Caleb said, all traces of humor gone, replaced with drilled efficiency as he turned towards the sound and smell and took aim, ready to dive behind one of the nearby barrows for cover.

ooc: Readying an action, if whatever's coming attacks or casts a spell, I will duck to cover behind a barrow.

"Unknown", said Hester, "It's dead but we don't know whether it's hostile yet."

"Regardless, I think I am going to place a ward upon myself," Bristle said to her allies as she cast Death Ward upon herself. Then, more loudly and directed toward the approaching threat, she said, "Is this the famed Siabrae of the barrows that approaches? If so, I would very much like to borrow a moment of you time for a chat."

The sound of dry, rattling laughter echoes at that. A moment later, a cadaverous form steps out from behind a barrow. It is draped in ragged furs, and antlers of stone protrude from its exposed skull.

"It has been some time since one came who knew that word. Why do you?" Its voice, too, is dust-dry and rattling.

She looked between Bristle and the talking, dead, thing. Saying nothing as this was Bristle's territory, and not hers but still, she found it weird and yet intriguing.

Voh'ren's eyes go wide as the Siabrae approaches. He puts his hand out, warning Kiru to stay at his side. He studies the fallen druid as it approaches---it's posture, the tone of its voice, the words it chooses. He hopes to glean some insight into its demeanor, and prays to the Green that his hunch about the reason for its transformation is right...

OOC:

23:34, Today: Voh'ren Wildheart rolled 28 using 1d20+15.  Sense Motive-Siabrae w/ Favored Enemy Bonus.

Hester just keeps her mouth shut.  It will see her soon and it may or may not notice.  She doesn't worry about things she can't fix.  She finds a way to fix 'em instead.

Bristle gazed upon the undead figure with awe in her eyes. This creature was a powerful example of a cross section of many of the clerics most prominent areas of interest. When the Siabrae asked its question, Bristle held her holy symbol up in reply. Not in a menacing way, as most clerics would. But simply as a way to show who she worshiped.

"I am a cleric of death and knowledge, great Siabrae. And I have always had great interest in learning about rituals and undead beings." She pat the skeletal bear at her side for emphasis. "You, my friend (I hope), are a wondrous sight to behold. Is there a name we should call you?" The "I hope" in her sentence suggested Bristle thought their group had little hope of defeating this powerful creature if they found themselves at odds.

Caleb's eyes widened and he tensed, gripping his crossbow tight enough for his knuckles to whiten as the siabre showed itself and spoke. When it proved not immediately hostile, he relaxed ever so slightly, lowering but not stowing his weapon.
When Bristle had finished introducing herself, he chimed in with his own two coppers, an edge of resolve undercut by fear of the unnatural thing in front of him in his voice. "We're here because we need to talk with you, and maybe offer you some kind of deal. There's a witch, goes by the name Whisper, he said, dripping contempt in the way he said her name, "She's causing all kinds of mayhem. We're told you might have been screwed over by her in the past, and were hoping you'd be willing to help us to return the favor."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:33, Tue 22 June 2021.

"Oh, I see," that dry voice rasps out. "Whisper. A name I've not heard of late. Would you walk with me?" The undead creature gestures into the mounds.

"I... um..." Bristle looked to her companions, surprised by the Siabrae's unexpected invitation. But her look of uncertainty quickly turned into an expression of dangerous delight. "Yes. I would be happy to walk with you." Her armor clanked loudly as she followed the undead being, leading the way for her undead bear and her fellow party members. "Have you dealt with Whisper directly in the past, ...?" Bristle left a deliberate pause at the end of her sentence, indicating she was still awaiting a name for the Siabrae. "She appeared to two of us, while awake, just as we entered this land. Previously we had only seen her while sleeping, or when dealing with her puppet-people."

"Thank you for the offer," Voh'ren says, bowing his head respectfully to the Siabrae. "We would be grateful for any insight you could offer about this Whisper."

The Half-Orc starts walks forward, joining Bristle toward the front. He wills himself to relax despite the strange and ominous appearance of their host and surroundings. When Kiru hesitates, he kneels down next to his animal companion.

"It is all right, little one," he says to the wolf pup while scratching him behind the ears. He continues, glancing at the rest of his companions. "Our host means us no harm. Let us be good guests and accept his offer." The words seem to calm the wolf pup, and the pair move forward to follow their host.

"When one gets to be my age, one finds names to be tedious things. Call me Chance, it's as good a name as any. As for Whisper...let me tell you a story, while we walk. It starts in the long-ago past, a world none of you would recognize. There was nothing here but wilderness, in that age, a vast forest dotted with plains and lakes. And there were people who lived within that forest. Outsiders called them barbarians, but to themselves, they were the Chanac, and they were the people of this land. They fought and loved and lived with the land."

The siabrae walks along between the barrows as it speaks, its pace slow and steady. It doesn't look aside, just walks onward.

"And then the legions of Taldor came."

Hester walks along, quietly and thoughtfully, listening with both ears, watching with both eyes, breathing deep of the air and feeling the ground beneath her feet.

"Ah, yes, the legions of Taldor," Bristle said nodding knowingly. "I am sure many of the details have been lost to time, but I recall they are the ones responsible for much of... well, this." The cleric waved an arm toward all the burial mounds surrounding them. "There are also rumors circulating that you, Chance, are the risen general who led the invasion. A graveknight too, no less. I suspect the opposite is probably closer to the truth though, hmm?" It was Bristle's roundabout way of gently prodding the siabrea into sharing more of their first-hand perspective of the past. Obviously the druid-lich was not a graveknight, and assumed it was more likely Chance led forces against Taldor rather than for Taldor.

As they walked, Bristle focused mainly on the siabrae and its knowledge, and trusted that her companions would remain warry of any other potential threats.