It is close to midday when the adventurers reach Helix, a clear sky, unbroken by clouds, brightening the streets of the humble village. Already, trading at the market is lively, with a handful of new merchants having opened booths near the market’s center. The sounds of a pair of musicians, playing a syrinx and lute, can be heard over the noise of purchases being negotiated.

Making their way to Mazzahs’ spire, the company can see that all but a few scraps of burnt lumber have been cleared from the site of The Foul Pheasant and that the first beams of a new building have already been raised.

The spire retains its exterior appearance of ruin. But as the adventurers draw close to the entrance a crackle of energy emerges from the top of the tower, a bright blue glow momentarily filling its upper windows. The sharp ozone scent of a lightning strike fills the explorers’ nostrils, the brief sensation electricity dancing across their faces and arms.

Reluctantly, Barnabus had parted ways with the diabolical statue. It had been, after all, early in the relationship with all of the fraught fragility that implied. He tried to reassure himself they would be back soon to whisk it back to Helix where he could visit it as his leisure in their patron's laboratory.

Eventually, Barnabus's excitement had given way to exhaustion and he had slept most of the way back to Helix. He hadn't even remembered to bug Ishmael to see about those two coffers riding along with them. Was he the only one with half a mind on such things? It's not like he hadn't noticed more than one accusi ... Snore.

With their return to Helix, the priest's excitement experiences its own recrudescence. He had so much to tell Mazzahs. Magnificent things! He had learned so much this time! It would be nothing short of a calamity if he didn't get to tell his patron about them -- right now. Understandably, then, he hastens up the stairs with his news.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Tue 22 Nov 2022.

At the sound of the lightning crackling above, Dax's head jerks up in time to see the tell-tale blue light from the tower windows.

"That can't be good!" he grabs at the front door and will rush up the stairs, as he draws his sword.

 Dilemma and Charley do not flinch at the noise, just glower.  The cat, standing on his mage's shoulder on the provision that he doesn't sink his claws into her, becomes a conical sight his hairs standing on end.

 Conjuress and Cat scale the stairs with companions, Dilemma holding her silvery dagger out -- just in case.

The scent of ozone is even stronger within the spire as the adventurers ascend the winding stairs, Barnabus eager to share the company’s discoveries within the catacombs, others alarmed by whatever might have transpired within the aged wizard’s laboratory.

The adventurers reach to top of the stairs to find a gray haze hanging over the circular chamber where Mazzahs conducts his research. The wizard’s hair and robe have been darkened somewhat by soot, but despite this, the mage seems well, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he gazes down at one of his tables where several fragments of a sapphire lie within an intricate circle written in chalk.

The wizard blinks in surprise at the party’s arrival. ”You’ve returned!” he says, greeting them with a smile, ”I’ve not been idle in your absence. I have some discoveries to share with you. How went your most recent foray into the tombs?”

Like the others Malivoire had been concerned for Mazzahs when the lighting strike occurred but having reached the top of the spire and now seeing the accomplished mage looking singed and sooty, Malivoire had to stifle a laugh behind a politely raised hand.

Not trusting his voice to remain serious for a minute, and knowing Barnabus was eager to take the stage, he allowed the priest to begin recounting their latest visit.

All but bounding over to Mazzahs, Barbabus breathlessly deposits two jumbles of bones before him, as if the Barrowmaze were his own private ossuary and he had just retrieved two of its treasures.

"The first," he claims (from #28), "could be those of a saint, wrongly crisped alive by paladins, Templars, and worse."

"I'm certain of this! All but certain! Only one corroborating fact remains to be nailed down," he avers. "Show him the copied engravings, Mal!"

"Now, these," he breathes, his tone now low, reverential, as he tenderly, most tenderly, unfolds the twice-enfolded bundle of bones, "these belonged to ... "

He can barely get the words out, nearly stuttering.

"A crypt guardian of a Lord of Orcus enfolded within his own burial shroud." (Provides detailed description of #33 and the ensuing encounters)

Reassuringly, he tells their patron not to worry about the activities of the cult of Orcus for Malivoire single-handedly wiped them out, for a certainty. Three of them that is.

"Most sagaciously, I decided to leave the sarcophagus undisturbed until obtaining further guidance."

He casts his eyes about the chamber, mentally looking for the best spot for a certain statue.

Also noted:
Something escaped from #29, adding urgency to the exploration of the other two sealed tombs.
Burial practices of the Green Man and their connections to their priestess's eternal servitude.
Two coffers (time to open them)