Those adventurers who approach the Shrine of St. Ygg find the atmosphere more somber than usual. When the group arrives, Brother Othar is standing at the entrance to the humble sanctuary, speaking with a pair of aged attendees, obviously comforting them about a matter of distress. Cella, the hood of her cloak drawn up, steps slowly around the circumference of the stone building, splashing holy water on the ground at regular points on its periphery, reciting prayers as she does so.

The adventurers can see that the window through which Gamdar attempted his escape is boarded up, still awaiting repair.

After a moment, the villagers speaking with Brother Othar depart. Cella, continuing her blessing, disappears from sight around the western corner of the shrine.

Barnabus's eyes longingly track the dispersal of the holy water. Covetous as always, he worries that not enough will be left for the outfit's purposes.

"The taint of Gamdar, eh, Brother Othar? Hard to eradicate, to be sure."

"We're trying to do some clean up as well in the maze. Found a hellmouth.. or was it a mouthpiece? Not sure. But direct line to Orcas if you catch my drift."

No longer worried about being spied upon, he describes the secret chamber in lurid detail, devoting extra time to extolling their "wisdom" in leaving the "corrupted" weaponry behind.

"Why Ynes had just about grasped one of them before we had even given it a second thought!"

"Mazzahs said we should talk to you about sealing it," he says encouragingly in the end.

"Yes we will be at the Strumpet. We are most appreciative of your assistance, Guildmaster. Don't forget to let us know about Searlait's funeral."

Dax looks to his companions, if they don't appear to have any more questions for the guildmaster, he turns and leaves the guild hall, heading to Mazzahs tower.

As they approach the tower they see Barnabus and the others, just leaving for the Shrine of St. Ygg to speak to Brother Othar. Dax follows behind Ishmael, his heart still heavy.

---

Anyone who wants to regroup at the Shrine can do so, or choose another destination.

Brother Othar’s demeanor is decidedly somber, his gaze remaining on the departing petitioners even as Barnabus begins to speak to him. The priest’s expression does not change as he shifts his attention to the adventurer, listening to the remainder of Barnabus’ account.

Sighing, he speaks quietly. ”Whatever taint that weighed Gamdar’s soul died with him. My regret with regard to him is twofold: that I was not wise enough to discern his true purpose, and that I was not a strong enough example of faithfulness to prompt him to question the path he had chosen. I hope that he has found peace.”

“As to Cella’s blessings, they are a precaution. I have found no evidence, material or spiritual, to indicate that Gamdar was able to complete any manner of working for Orcus on the grounds of the shrine. Despite that, among the charges placed on Cella and myself is the protection of the people of Helix. So we have taken steps in the wake of Gamdar’s passing to ensure that the shrine is the strong sanctuary it was intended to be.”

He gestures down a nearby thoroughfare. ”Some of the patronage of The Brazen Strumpet took it upon themselves to make certain that no trace of demonic influence remained at the cottage Gamdar occupied.” The adventures can see that the cottage has been burned to the ground and that the soil it rested upon has been liberally sprinkled with salt.

He pauses for a moment as he absorbs the remainder of the tale. ”Whoever elected not to touch those weapons is worthy of praise. It actually provides me with some hope. It seems that you delvers have finally sensed that stripping everything out of those tombs is foolish. A course fueled by greed which will lead to ruin, for more than just yourselves.”

“Orcus is not unlike many of his infernal ilk. St. Ygg stands ready to hear those who pray to him, even those who have never done so before. Demons and devils demand blood and sacrifice before they will deign to hear a single word. This portal you speak of likely took a great deal of effort, and the spilling of innocent blood, in order to be created.”

“Dousing it in blessed water will see it closed. I will see to it this evening and will have the water waiting for Sir Dryvyk at sunrise.”

He frowns. ”I must ask. Why is it you seek St. Ygg’s assistance in purifying the catacombs, Barnabus? You are a priest. Do you not believe that your own patron has the desire to see the dark powers of the catacombs driven away?”

"Truth be told, and I wouldn't dream of telling anything but that," Barnabus begins, "I do think Impuratus would dance a little jig to see Orcus and the others knocked down a few pegs. Though he is a god of death himself, he's much more of a kindred spirit to the Green Man. The dead should stay dead. Simple enough. Right? No reversal of the divine decay."

"But you know all that, Brother Othar," the curate says half-accusingly. "Listen to me talking theology with my superior. You also know that the last shrine to my god in this neck of the moors was razed long ago. So it's to you that I go for guidance on the where and how."

Dreamily, Barnabus confesses that it is his own "sacred hope" to erect a wee bit of a shrine to his god once all is right again with the Barrow Maze.

Off to the guild to see if there are any sappers available.

”Your hearts seem heavy,” Brother Othar tells the adventurers as they depart, ”If you are in need of any assistance from myself or Cella, you need only seek us out. One of us is always here at the shrine.”

Presented with a request for a man who can breach walls and barriers, Guildmaster Osen pauses only a moment, before nodding with a deep, possibly disturbed, frown. ”There’s one among us who’s familiar with such work. He mostly keeps to ambushing bandits now. But you’re welcome to speak with him.”

He turns back to the sellswords gathered at the tables in the guildhall. ”BATTIST!”

Battist, a wiry, slightly stooped man, clad in a gray cloak, a pair of long dirks on his weathered belt, approaches warily, his dark eyes regarding the adventurers with suspicion. Osen leans down and mutters a few words to the mercenary, which prompts an almost instantaneous change in the sellsword’s demeanor. He grins widely, revealing several broken teeth, his dark eyes twinkling.

”Needin’ a barrier removed, is it, my lords and ladies? You’ve come to the right place. Yes, indeed. Still know my way around a spot of saltpeter. Haven’t forgotten my formulas. No, not at all. You’ve heard of the siege of Clafton Fort? To the north? Twas me that breached the wall. It surely was. Sent Duke Esmund’s soldiers to flight! Them and their spears fell all about the field like raindrops!” He cackles and slaps his knee, his ribs shaking with laughter.

Coughing, he adds, ”And the lost Grimstone Mine? On the far side of Iron Mountains? Was me what got those brave souls inside. Powder that came from all the stone that was destroyed hovered for days.”

“So, what is it, lords and ladies? What’re you needin’ Old Battist to do away with?”

Conspiratorially, Barnabus leans in, "What indeed. What indeed. This lord has designs on adding a certain barrow to his... to his... demesne."

"Now, never you mind that I have neither manor nor title. That won't come between me and my ... demesne. Those can come later, with a enough gold to spread around, amirite?"

Leaning even further in, the raider explains that this barrow has a door they wish to blow up from afar.

"We'd like to know what's behind the door before we're swimming with it."

"Can't have too much prudence in this line of work; that's what I always say."

He does let slip that they might have to deal with a somewhat messed up mummy, but if that's a bridge too far for Battist, why, then he can "sit that one out" and that Barnabus would understand that predilection perfectly.

As the group leaves the Shrine of St Ygg, Dax hesitates and then calls out, "I'll catch up to you at the Strumpet." He turns to Othar and says, "You are right, for me at least, my heart is heavy."

He takes a seat on a pew, and waits for the cleric to join him. Dax looks glum as he begins, "I answered Mazzahs' letter for selfish reasons. I wanted the chance to gain some treasure, enough so that my mother would be able to leave Bogtown and live comfortably in Irongard Motte.

After meeting Mazzahs, and hearing his reasons for employing us to enter the Barrowmaze, I felt that I was helping a higher cause, if you will, not just tomb-robbing. I still think that.

But, our mistakes inadvertent as they might be, have cost the lives of hirelings and innocents alike. I still feel that the cause is just, but it seems that we bungle things more often than not."

Dax lets out a long sigh, with a dejected look on his face. "I just would like to know that what we are doing is truly worthwhile. Maybe it would have been better to leave the Barrow alone?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:04, Sun 16 Apr 2023.

Othar sits in the pew that Dax has selected, looking back at the ranger and listening attentively as he speaks. At the end, a smile crosses the priest’s face, the first that any of the adventurers have seen since returning to Helix. It is an expression tinged with weariness, but assuredly sincere.

”As I have grown older, Dax, it seems to me that only those who are truly noble in spirit ever pause to examine their own motives. To consider the reasons behind their actions. Persons without a moral center, those steeped in selfishness, never question themselves.”

Othar nods. ”The fact that you are sitting here with me already tells me all that I need to know of your character.”

“I think you judge you and your companions’ efforts too harshly. That is, if an aging priest’s view holds any weight with you. But for you adventurers, who knows what creatures from the catacombs might have emerged and visited their terror upon Helix? Every such horror that you destroy is one that cannot plague the land of the living. I assure you, despite what he might claim to the contrary, Krothos Ironguard’s men are best suited to contending with common bandits and goblins. The terrors of the moor are quite beyond their abilities.”

“The destruction of The Foul Pheasant rests squarely on the shoulders of its proprietress, not yours. It is a direct result of her own foolish decisions. But, what if the possessed man had obtained the map he demanded, and with it found something of great value to the terrible powers he served? But for all of you, I can promise that he would have.”

“If not for you, Gamdar would have continued murdering right under my very nose, his true nature concealed by cunning magics. If you had not acted when you did, Taycee would have been lost to us. Acting as you did halted the actions of Orcus’ agents within Helix and restored the sanctity of this shrine.”

He chuckles, his sudden mirth surprising. ”If there is any ill will against you in Helix, it’s from that. Some of the patrons of The Brazen Strumpet are rather jealous of your friend Malivoire. Taycee speaks of him often and with great admiration.”

His seriousness returns. ”Let me tell you something that only one in my position could. As you are aware, Helix, like many villages of the duchies of the middle south, is a frontier settlement, threatened by hostile holdings on many sides: goblins, orcs, lizard folk, froglings. Those kind of threats are to be expected in a community such as this. Those who come here know the risks, but brave them in the hope of establishing lasting security for themselves and their families.”

“If it were only for that, I can promise you that the Church of St. Ygg would have found it acceptable to station myself and Cella in Ironguard Motte and have us visit Helix regularly through the seasons. But instead, a shrine was raised here. Why? Because of the Barrowmaze.”

“The history of this region is not pleasant to read, Dax. It is filled with terrible happenings and countless deaths, all tied to those ancient tombs. Each time that the darkness which dwells there ventures forth it is stronger, and the price to turn it back is greater. Something terrible festers within that place and eventually, if we do not uncover its secrets, it will unleash an evil the likes of which we have never seen. Something that will bring destruction far beyond the Duchy of Aerik. The church knows it, though they struggle for an answer. Mazzahs does as well. It is why he left his post at the school in Monlist, and all the luxuries of that city, and came to reside here. We are few, but we know we cannot let what dwells in the Barrowmaze continue to grow.”

“And it is you and your companions who are braving the dark and finding those answers. Make no mistake, your purpose is a noble one. The noblest. If the people of Helix survive, it will be because of the efforts of you adventurers.” He taps the ranger’s chest for emphasis. Pausing, his voice grows somber. ”But it is not without danger. However, I have no doubt that those who have traveled out onto the moor with you have been well aware of what they might face.”

He sighs. ”The destruction the demon wrought weighs heavily on you. There is no way any of you could have anticipated what the statue hid. If there is any fault, it rests with the magician who imprisoned the infernal monster. It was the ancient trick of a cunning worker of darkness. In fact, retrieving the necromancer’s tome of spells was a great service. It ensured that his knowledge did not fall into the wrong hands.”

“But…if I may speak frankly to you, perhaps there is wisdom to be gained from the balor. Exploring the tombs requires wisdom, I believe. What Mazzahs craves most are items that provide answers to the catacombs’ history, to the terrible magicks that have been worked within its halls, and the secrets that have been locked within it. Things that provide such insight  are what should be taken from the maze. Others…perhaps it is best if they are destroyed, or left buried.”
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Sat 15 Apr 2023.

The visit to the chapel was no more uplifting for Malivoire than the visit to the guildhall.  It seemed gloom and shadows dogged their footsteps these days, and that it seeped into each area they touched.  He joined the others in offering condolences and remuneration for the families, but it did little to improve the elven mage's mood.  But Brother Othar's offer of spiritual aid did not appeal to him, so after politely declining he joined the rest in departing the chapel only to split off when it became clear Barnabus wanted to head to the guildhall.  With no interest to confront that loss again so quickly, Malivoire instead headed for the Strumpet.  Perhaps some wine would settle his mind.

When he reached the inn his gaze naturally looked for any sign of Taycee, before he found an unoccupied table at which to quietly mull things over with a bottle of red wine.

When the opportunity presents itself, Barnabus reviews the tactics they plan to employ against the mummy, assuming they can locate it. He asks that Ynes pour out the oil and Andryr light it up.

Back to the barrow of Set when we're ready.
-50 GP to engage the sapper
This message was last edited by the player at 17:47, Sun 16 Apr 2023.

”Seen a spot of the undead afore,” Battist tells his prospective employer, ”Got a healthy respect for such, but I’m not one to quake in my boots at the sight of ‘em. Twouldn’t keep me from doing what was needed.”

The mercenary indicates that his services can be had for a trip out to the Barrowmoor for a fee of forty gold pieces. In the event of his hiring, he requests an additional ten gold pieces, with which to purchase supplies needed for the destruction of the door, along with any other obstacles the adventurers may want done away with while he is present with them.

Seeming to match his thoughtful mood, Malivoire finds The Brazen Strumpet quiet when he enters. The afternoon hour of his arrival rests between the noon mealtime and the early evening, when workers from the village will arrive for libations after a day of labor. Only a few patrons are present and Malivoire recognizes only one: Karg Barrelgut, the blacksmith, who has apparently come for a plate of food and a mug of ale. He raises his glass to the mage.

Bollo, from behind the bar, gives Malivoire a friendly smile and nod. The dark haired Merida takes his order, assuring him that she will have his wine to him promptly.

The mage’s thoughts are quickly clouded by the recollection of recent events. Enough so that, when his wine and glass arrive, he is mildly startled when they are set upon the table, and the chair next to him is pulled out.

Taking a seat beside him, Taycee, the deliverer of his drink, regards him with a concerned frown. ”I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” she says apologetically, ”and it may be none of my business, but are you well? You seem…troubled. Even Merida noticed.”

Dax listens intently to Brother Othar. His shoulders visibly lift, as if a heavy weight has been taken from his back.

"Thank you Brother Othar. You have no idea what your words mean to me. I hope we will have the wisdom to determine which objects should be brought back to Mazzahs and which should be left where they lay."

The elf stands, and surprises the priest with a strong hug.

"I hope we will prove that Mazzahs faith in us is not misplaced."

Dax takes his leave and returns to the Brazen Strumpet.

Malivoire was startled by Taycee's arrival, but glad for her presence and offered a small smile.  He still found himself a little nervous around her, but the gloomy matters on his mind outweighed any minor lack of confidence he might have felt.  Reaching out, he took a sip of the wine to settle his mind and then faced Taycee.

"I am well enough, thank you.  And I do appreciate your concern, it means much to me.  It's just..." he paused, glancing up to the ceiling before looking back to the redhead, "I am worried we are doing as much harm as good with our explorations of the barrows and crypts.  We lost Serlait and Kraomar this time out, and nearly Old Gib too."  He started in a stilted fashion, but then it all came out in a rush.

"We had diverted to an open barrow and defeated three ghasts present there.  There were signs of something else within, but we chose to ignore it in favour of returning to the crypts.  Leaving it for another time.  But while we were in the crypt, that thing in the barrow came outside and attacked the camp, killing Serlait and Kraomar and severely injuring Old Gib.  And we weren't there to help."

"If we'd only finished off the barrow completely, they'd still be alive.  We knew something more stirred there, but we ignored it.  It's our fault they're dead."

Taycee listens quietly as the mage speaks, her concerned expression deepening as he describes what transpired. When he stops, she remains silent for a moment.

”I’m certain that there are far better people who you could go to for wise counsel than me…a barmaid in a frontier tavern. But…Malivoire, save for you and your companions, I wouldn’t be here to speak with you at all. You brought Gamdar’s murders to a halt. Merida and Urgritte, they feel sure that given time, he would have preyed on them as well. And none of us…none of us saw him as a man to be feared. In our eyes, you’re all heroes.”

“It’s more than that, though. I’ve lived here long enough to know stories about the Barrowmoor. Not from a time long ago, mind you. From recent days. Just prior to you first coming here, the widow Kelna’s only son was dragged from their field by a ghoul while he was planting bulbs for leeks, never to be seen again. In the last days of winter, the old leather worker, Ursio, and his wife were attacked in their home by shades. Dark spirits made only of shadow. The shrieks of the undead could be heard all over Helix. Brother Othar rushed to aid them, but he was too late. Both those good people were reduced to husks.” She shudders involuntarily. ”You’ve gone out there. You and your companions. Faced the some of the horrors in those barrows. Destroyed them. Made certain they can’t harm anyone else.”

”You’re not like the others who have come here. Plunderers who only care for gold. We know. Everyone in the village. I know. You are trying to help the wizard find a way to drive the evil out. To make these lands safe.” She places her hand on the mage’s arm. ”Everyone here regards your company as our protectors. Every bit as much as Mazzahs and the clergy of the Shrine. If a true threat comes, we would look to you for aid. I can promise you, none of us are foolish enough to think Krothos Ironguard will seek to defend us.”

She falls quiet again. ”I did not know Kraomar well. He was quick with a joke and had a wonderful laugh. I know he had trouble with Perri Ticklebottom. Owed her gold for bad gambling decisions. But…he was also proud to be associated with you adventurers.”

“Searlait…she preferred us to The Foul Pheasant. One of the last times she was here, she told Urgritte how pleased she was to be guarding your camp. She was well aware of the dangers, but unlike some of the other contracts the Mercenary Guild had given her, she believed that what she was doing with your company was important. That she was helping others through her work in some small way. I don’t for a moment think that she regretted joining you.”

“The creature that attacked them. Do you know what became of it?”

As Billworth Turgen helps Barnabus and Dax Moonblade with their purchases at his shop, he gives a shake of his head. ”Right lucky you are,” he tells the two adventurers, ”Only had two lanterns left. Sold the other three I had on hand right after I opened up. Might be a week until I see more from Ironguard Motte.”

He snorts. ”Someone here ends up needing one bad enough, I might have to send some coin to The Brown Buckler in Bogtown. I hate doing business with that lot. Thieves, every last one of em.”

Malivoire listened reluctantly at first, but Taycee's conviction eventually won him over.  It wasn't that he abandoned his remorse for their actions and the fate that befell Kraomar and Serlait, but he was able to better balance that with the good that had come from their actions, outcomes the townsfolk could see.  He put his own hand atop Taycee's where it lay on him arm.

"You may be just a barmain in a frontier tavern, but you seem pretty wise to me," he smiled, not forced but genuinely this time.  "Thank you for reminding me there is always another perspective."

Then he leaned back in his chair and cradled his wine glass in his lap.  "It was a mummy that had ravaged the camp, a strong type of undead creature.  We set off after it immediately as it was headed toward the town, and caught up quickly enough.  After a short fight we were able to wound it enough that it used strong magic to flee.  We do not know where with certainty," he admitted, "but we believe it has most likely gone back to its lair in the barrow.  We're preparing to return and deal with it right now."

Belatedly Malicvoire realized it looked like he was doing nothing of that sort, sitting here drinking wine.  "My part is done," he added hastily. "The others are gathering some last help and supplies, and we'll head back out on the morrow, I expect."

Dax glanced at Barnabus, with a look of alight apprehension. "You sold three lanterns this morning? Would it be rude to ask who purchased them?"

Taycee smiles warmly. ”You have no need to justify taking a rest,” she says, ”You’ve earned it.”

“The mummy…you and the others kept it from coming here and claiming more victims. I imagine that Searlait and Kraomar gave it a fight as well. Their sacrifice wasn’t in vain. They surrendered their lives trying to protect others.”

A group of worn looking drivers enters the tavern. ”Duty calls,” Taycee tells the mage, patting his arm again, ”I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

”Group of folk that looked a bit like you,” Turgen answers, ”Well armed and armored. Not nearly as friendly, though. Had the air of ruffians about ‘em. Said they were off to seek out treasure in the Barrowmoor. Five of ‘em, all told.”

The merchant rubs his jaw. ”Called themselves the Outriders of Uleck. I suppose they hail from the town of the same name on the other side of the Moon Peaks. Their leader called himself Grak. Had a warhammer on his belt. Part orc, I think. Wore an iron pendant of a broken axe.”

Hearing about another gang of meddlers romping and stomping its way to the barrow only makes Barnabas all the more eager to return there with his gang.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:06, Fri 28 Apr 2023.

"Interesting. We'll have to keep an eye out for them when we return. Thanks for the information, Master Turgen. And for the goods."

Looking at the priest he adds, "I'm heading to the Strumpet. I need a meal, a drink, and rest!"