Wilam is exhausted. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself but the world before him is starting to spin. He fumbles his way to the nearest headstone and sits on it. The dead are twice-dead now... surely no creature or spirit remains to lay claim to these grave markers.
Varro looking at the skull wedged to the blade of his Greataxe:
"ahhhh, ya going ta be a gud puppy now aren't ...oh yes you are ...ya good boy now ... yessss ya are..." ,tilting his head like listening to the skull, "wut was dat... ya want an ale ...well I be thinkin dat be a fine Idea .. just gots ta be dealin wit dat bitch master ov yers ...den I be takin ya ta a nice place and I be seein abouts an ale or three."
"ahhhh, ya going ta be a gud puppy now aren't ...oh yes you are ...ya good boy now ... yessss ya are..."
Jiles, seeing the action complete, makes his way out of the crypt to the group. "It's about time." With a sly grin, Jiles winks. He leans over, examining the elven woman in detail. "Where's my stuff!?"
The elf woman raises a hand, pointing to the southern-most crypt. She can not keep her arm raised for long, as her weakness is setting in.
With an angry growl, Jiles moves over to the southern crypt. "Fool woman... talking with the undead can only lead to you joining their ranks." Jiles enters the southern crypt, searching around for his things.
Arden follows Jiles to the southern crypt and searches for his equipment as well. "I wonder how many townspeople they have turned to zombies and skeletons already... surely the town is much safer now. I really hope these people don't spare that bitch's life."
Arden and Jiles find their belongings laying in a pile just inside the doorway to the crypt.
Muffled voices can be heard coming from somewhere nearby in the graveyard.
Arden gathers his belongings and moves back out to the others gathered in the graveyard.
Brann looks around to ensure nobody is still in dire straits. Seeing nothing too amiss he relaxes and focuses on his on recovery for a moment.
Seeing the prisoners emerging he shouts out, "Are you injured?" as his experienced healer's eye wanders over them.
The prisoners do not look to be overly hurt or damaged in any way.
He wanders over to Varro, "Well done Varro, I see you've made a new friend. Shame he isn't as handsome as you, *quietly adding* just about." and adds a smile and wink, the tension of the battle draining from him.
*Belly Laugh* "I be bettin he don't drink as much ither, but we be findin out soon enuf *Belly Laugh*
Holding his axe out towards the elfess so the skull is in her face "now ya be tellin sir Wilam all dat he be wantin ta knows or I havt ta come back and bite ya *Belly Laugh*
The elf cringes at the threat from the growling dwarf.
Ehud laughs.
Wilam watches the poor elf girl and considers the situation. If you could only ask one question, what would it be? He knows almost instantly.
Wilam walks over to the girl and stands, towering over her. "Who do you work for? Who put you up to this?"
The woman looks up at Wilam, eyeing him dangerously.
"Why should I tell you? You're just going to kill me anyways."
Arden speaks up, feeling he has a way of convincing people.
"Surely you would like to improve your chances for survival? These are good reasonable people and could very well be convinced to spare you if you were helpful. Think of your life."
The woman seems to have a spark of trust in her eye. “How can I trust that you won't kill me if I tell you?”
"Ya can't but ya can be trustin dat I be killin ya if ya don't"
The elf glares at Varro with a dirty look. She gets overly quiet.
"If your employer is, say, hidden... perhaps we would need your assistance in contacting him. We are here on behalf of Winterhaven and simply want to bring this ..." Wilam pauses for a moment and motions to the surrounding grave yard, "issue to a peaceful end."
"Very well. If you can promise a diplomatic end, I will give you what I know. I was just ... *cough* following what my god decreed of me. *cough, cough* To fulfill a prophecy....*cough*
"You done torturing her? Not like we can trust anything she says anyway..."
Wilam turns and looks at Ehud squarely in the eyes, "Silence yourself and leave this to me, boy. I'll not have you undo the work I'm so carefully crafting.”
Ehud sighs. "Whatever, Lich."
Wilam turns back to the girl and lowers himself to one knee. "What is this... prophecy?"
The elf lowers her voice, as if afraid to be heard by the very air around her.
"The rift shall be opened once more to the unyeilding glory of Orcus, Lord of the Undead. His minions shall pour forth, spreading his influence across this valley, strengthening his grasp on this domain, pulling the Shadowfell forth into the mortal realm..."
Brann hears the talk of Orcus and tries to recall anything he knows about this deity.
Brann recalls that Orcus is known as the Demon Lord of Undeath, the Demon Prince of the Undead, and the Blood Lord. He is worshipped by undead and living creatures that do not fear undeath.
"What does opening this rift have to do with capturing townsfolk and holding them in grave yards?"
"His army will be built upon the bodies of those who inhabit this valley. These villagers were just the first of many to come."
Aside, Ehud curses, "Hoars hairy balls if we have to do this fricken stuff again..." He swallows what he was about to say getting a harsh look from Wilich.
Brann fights down a sick feeling and tries to gather some further information from their captive.
"Does Orcus have others working for him? Who else is involved in these plans to open a rift?"
Wilam pauses to consider this and his next question.
"Orcus is great and many. He commands leigons of followers and minions. His generals are creatures not even conceivable in the imagination. Kalarel, he is who you seek....*cough*....Shadow...fell....*cough, cough*....keep...."
The woman's will is fading. She is nearing death.
On hearing the name, Wilam finds a smile crossing his lips. "I pray you find rest, elf... pray your soul never faces your god."
He stands and leaves her as she lays, "I'm finished with her."
Facing the others, Wilam introduces himself to the rescued men.
Arden watches Wilam question the woman as he rejoins the group. "Well met friends, and thanks for the rescue. Surely we would not have fared well on our own!" He bows his thanks and smiles at the group.
"aye, lad ... well met ... ya might be tellin us how it be dat ya ended up in dat crypt." Varro asks.
Arden nods. "I had come in to town in search of a path to greater power. Met this fellow Jiles on the road to town, and then went to sleep at the inn. Next thing I know I'm kidnapped and thrown in the prison with Jiles. I have no idea why we were targeted. How did you all end up here?"
"Captain of the guard came cryin to us like a bitch. Said some stupid fricken townies were being eatin by zombies. The Lich and Werekitty got all pissed, so here we came." says Ehud to Varro.
"so ya tellin me ya jus ended up ere fer no reason ... jus bad luck ov da draw ... ya didn't be doin anyting ta provoke da 'idnappin?”
Arden shakes his head, "Not that I know of. As I said we had just arrived in town.... my guess would be that they target newcomers, as they would probably arouse less suspicion when they go missing."
"Well, the fricken Captain was fricken aroused. Missing townies is the only real action he's gotten in awhile, I think." Ehud spits, Hate fricken law men. "What power you trying to find?"
"Wut kinda skills ya got ta be findin power wit, ya gots any fightin skills we should know about, well besides the whole knees thing and the can't be findin ya way out of a shoddy crypt wit out help thing?" *Belly Laugh*
Varro looks to the skull on his axe "Stuck in der he was ... can ya fathum dat?” *Belly Laugh*
Ehud laughs along with Varro. "Maybe, he's looking for the power of a good shovel and a pick. Fricken saw maybe."
"I'm Wilam of Waterdeep. It's a pleasure to meet you," he extends a hand to Jiles and Arlen. "I didn't catch your names."
Arden shakes Wilam's hand. "My name is Arden, pleasure to meet all of you. I study the Arcane and this is the power I seek. As for fighting skills, you can count on my dark powers to bring pain to those who deserve it. It seems to me that Orcus may be able to help me in my quest for power, by allowing me to thin his ranks and destroy his evil. I would join you if that is your path." Arden steps back, surveying the group, measuring their prowess.
"We can use all the help we can find. And someone who understands the Arcane arts would be a welcome companion." says Wilam.
"I be sayin dat we take her back ta town and let da captian have her ...wut ya say?" Varro chimes in.
"She'll be dead by then. Time to put out the lights," Ehud quickly and mercifully slits her throat. Then proceeds to mess her body up so she can't be ressurected or raised as undead. "Damn messy business disposing of Orcus lovers, but it's gotta be done. Now if only we had a whole lot of holy water, we could cut her into pieces, fill the pieces with holy water and feed them to the zombies we're sure to encounter in Shadowkeep. I seen it done once. Kaboom! Fricken zombie head exploded."
"The trick," Francis says, grabbing the still-warm body, "is to shatter or separate the bones from each other." He puts one foot on the torso and yanks one of the legs.
The bone pops out of socket with a loud *Pop!*
"Oh, like this?" Ehud tries the Francis method with the other leg.
"Quite, quite." Francis takes the disembodied leg and drops it on the ground. He then strikes it several times with his warhammer. Splat. Splat. Crunch. Crunch.
"Burning at least some of it may also be desirable."
"You ok, halfman Francis," Ehud says enthusasticly patting Francis on the back. "We gonna get fricken drunk tonight, eh?"
"I'm afraid it would be a quite futile gesture," Francis says, wiping off the edge of his hammer and finally picking up his thrown handaxe. "The instant alcohol touches my lips, it turns to water."
"Damn friend-halfman-Francis. That sucks." Ehud thinks for a second, "But, hey, you know, if we were shipwrecked and all we had were spirits. You could save us all by running them through your mouth."
"Let us hope it never comes to that."
"Hey lemme show you my trick," Ehud says. "Take a coin and put an X on one side. Here, you can use one of mine.”
"Okay." Francis takes the coin and marks one side.
“Don't let me see what side you put it on, now. Ok, on the count of three you toss the coin and I'll do a back flip over it as it turns. When I land, I'll tell you what side it was on. Ok? Let's go. ONE! TWO! THREE!"
Francis tosses the coin and Ehud does a backflip over it.
Ehud wobbles a bit on landing but tells Francis what side of the coin he put the X on.
With an astounding feat of acrobatics, Ehud does a standing backflip, clearing the coin in the air, sticking the landing on his feet as if the act were a trivial thing.
He promptly turns to Francis and tells him the side of the coin the mark was on.
"Impressive. I'm sure if we were shipwrecked with dozens of marked coins, you could entertain us for hours with that trick."
"Damn straight. And don't you forget it."
Arden stands observing the brutal nature of the party. He feels the darkness welling up within him and has to turn away, briefly, to gather his thoughts. 'I am not evil. I do not like hurting people. I only hurt those who deserve it.... by why does the darkness feel so..... empowering....'
"Well... I think it's about time we had a real look at that... circle there. Any ideas, Arden?" Wilam heads over to the glowing ground and considers it carefully. "There must be some way to deactivate or dispurse it's energy."
Upon taking a closer look at the glowing ring, Wilam realizes it is a simple summoning circle of magic. Disrupting the lines will end the flow of magic and would have destroyed the undead in the graveyard.
Arden smiles at his fellow companion of the arts, happy to focus on something other than tearing a corpse apart. "Let's see..." Arden moves to the circle and examines it with Wilam.
"I think if we just... Hmmm..." Wilam takes a closer look at the runic lines. "Yes, this is a basic enough summoning circle... probably what was empowering the undead creatures. Disrupting it should be simple. If only we had a shovel...”
"Varro!" Wilam calls over his shoulder to the dwarf. "You've been looking to replace that axe, right? What do you say to using it to overturn the ground here?"
"A'ight, I be right der"
Not be findin any fun in tearin da elfess ta pieces, guess I be leavin dat ta da half-pint
Varro wanders over to the circle with Wilam and the new guy, Arden. to help with the disposal of the circle.
Varro holding his greataxe in his off hand pulls the Waraxe from his belt and hands the monsterous axe to Wilam.
"Der ya go, get ta diggen."
Looking back to the skull still wedged on his Greataxe, Varro continues to talk to the skull as if it his new pet.
"Dats a good boy, ya jus be sittin waitin patient like, don't ya worry now we be gettin a good mead soon. Dats a good boy"
After gathering his belongings, and carefully tucking away all of his various weapons, Jiles walks to the group. Turning to Wilam, he nods his head, "I am Jiles. Well met, and thank you for coming to take care of this crazy woman.”
"Aye, well met indeed. I be Varro, dis be Wilich ...I mean Wilam, Our Lich... I mean Our Finger Waggler." Varro nods towards the skull wedged on his axe "and dis be Bozy boo, me new friend." Looking back to Jiles he asks "So ya be tellin me Jiles wut be your skills, ya a darky like ya friend or ya someting else?" Varro impatiently awaits an answer, while still holding out the Heavy Waraxe to Wilam.
Wilam ignores the weapon and rolls his eyes at Jiles as Varro stumbles through the introduction.
With a light chuckle, Jiles pushes out his cloak slightly as he dips his head, causing the cloak to open briefly, revealing crossbows and shurikens lining the insides. "I prefer more direct means of dealing with trouble. Although not too direct." Jiles winks. With a quick, brief motion, both of Jiles' hands are armed with loaded hand-crossbows, one of which looks quite intricate. He looks down at his weapons with some affection. *Ah, I've missed you my friends.* With an equally quick and adept motion, the crossbows disappear beneath the cloak.
"A'ight ... I gotcha ... Der be Darky and Sneaky ... gud enuf"
“What's with your elven friend? Why did he just run off?" Jiles looks over his shoulder, jerking his thumb in the direction the elf ran.
"Oh dat Belimir be loonier den a slant head in da summer sun... no tellin wut he be up ta ... he might ov got hungry ...beats me ...he be back when we be needin him dough. Don't ya be frettin none about dat."
Watching the party dismember the elf, Jiles squints and looks past the southern crypt at the surrounding area. *I could have sworn I heard something...* He moves off in that direction, scanning the area and listening intently.
He slips quietly into the shadows, heading towards the voices.
The muffled sound of someone gagged seems to be coming from the northern crypt.
Varro calls back to Francis "Ya get done wit dat body, ya not be fergettin ya throwing weapon dat be over der." Varro motions towards the weapon.
"Varro, I have no intention of lifting your axe... not unless you wish this process to take a week. And you won't be going back to the tavern until this job's finished," Wilam is stern but there's a hint of good humor in his tone. "Come now, the ground is soft and it won't take but a few good overturnings to break the runes."
"Uh-oh Varro, Mommy Lich is pissed at you," Ehud winks. "Best get to work."
"I be sorry, Lad ... I be thinkin ya would want ta do da breakin ov da majik runes... Hold on, let me put Bozy where he not be gettin in ta mischift."
Varro leans his Dwarven-made Greataxe with the skull wedged on the blade against the crypt and with two hands he gets to work turning the ground upon which the ruins are crafted. Caring little for the Waraxe of questionable origins, Varro makes quick work of the project.
"Der ya be ... gud enuf?"
The glowing runes come to a halt with the disruption of the magic circle. The gross stench and sickly feeling subside, returning the cemetery to a place of mournful worship and remembrance.
"Thank you, Varro. That will be sufficient." Wilam gets the urge to offer an explanation of various summoning circles and how they may be disabled, "This was a simple summoning circle and constructing it on a disruptable surface makes it very easy to disable. More complicated Runes may be warded with magic and even when constructed on sand, they're impossible to disrupt without a ritual process..." Wilam catches himself and notices nobody is listening.
He continues to mumble to himself. Nobody appreciates the finer arts these days. It's lost on the youth. One day, it will save them... but do they listen? To the Depths with them, I say. Let the weak minded fools walk blindly into their doom. Wilam finds himself scowling as he stares blankly into the place where the runes were recently laid.
Turning to Wilam, Ehud asks, "We really goin back to the drink hole after this or are we gonna end more Orcus lovers? I gots some death left in me."
"Judging by the sun, we have plenty of time to at least make the journey to the old keep... what did she call it... Shadow... Shadowfel Keep. Yes, that was it. But I don't think it would be unreasonable to bring proof of our work here to Lord Padraig, first. I'm sure we could convince him to pay for our work."
"Well it be needin more, der be me udder axe fer ya"
Varro cleans the soil from the axe and returns it to his belt.
"Won't the freed prisoners be evidence enough?" Ehud sighs, "Sides, law men don't pay for what they think everyone should do. They stupid like that. Fricken guards and lords and captains. Can't kill em either. Can kill Orcus lovers, though."
"Of course they will," Wilam patiently explained, "But Lord Padraig never offered a reward... there was no time to discuss it beforehand. Winterhaven is on the way to the keep anyhow. We'll stop to let them know the present threat has been eliminated. We have great leverage in this situation, you know... We know more about the greater threat than anyone else. Used properly, knowledge is the ultimate power in the universe."
Calling back to Francis, Wilam questions, "Francis, did you search the elf's corpse for a key or correspondence of any kind?"
"I thought..., hmm. Rather, I... No." He searches the dead elf's pockets...and her dismembered legs
Varro pockets the coins.
"wutdahell is dis" Varro holds up the rolled sheet of Vellum.
Unrolling the sheet of velum there is written in delicate handwriting is the following message:
"I received your report on the adventurers. Next time you see them, put an end to their meddling. Mix the blood of ten people with the elixir my messenger brings in the envelope. Then trace the following pattern on the ground of a graveyard and pour the liquid into the lines. That should supply you with a force to thwart them.
I'm very close to completion; see that I'm not interrupted. As you already know, if you do come to the second level of the keep, the pass phrase is "From the ground, some magic was found."
- Kalarel
At the entrance to the northern crypt, Jiles retrieves his crossbow from beneath his cloak and loads it, somewhat cautious. He peers into the crypt from around the corner of the entrance, making sure there isn't a threat. After seeing the gagged individual, Jiles calls out, "We got another live one over here!" With that, he waits for the others, holding his crossbows loaded at the ready.
Francis follows Jiles to the northern crypt. “Is this another Winterhavian.. Winterhavenite... Individual from the town?”
Gesturing with his crossbow, the point of a bolt glinting in the light, "Why don't you go have a closer look. I'll keep my sights on whoever it is. This may just be a ruse."
The wind picks up momentarily, throwing some dust into the air. Jiles' hand remains unwavering as he aims his crossbow at the captive. Squinting through the blowing dust, Jiles tries to remember if he has seen the person before.
Francis gently presses Jiles's hand, the one holding the crossbow, to the side "Unless you see through the point of an arrow, I don't believe it will be necessary to point, as such, to someone tied up. We've had plenty of violence here already. No need for more.”
Inside the northern crypt lay more prisoners, bound and gagged similiarly to how Jiles and Arden were bound. These must be all of the missing villagers! Also, judging by the condition of the undead that was fought, all of the villagers must be accounted for!
Ehud starts cutting their bonds free with the sharp end of his spear, muttering, "Stupid fricken townies. Bunch of fricken sheep. Can't even escape from zombies."
One of the prisoners, a child, runs up to Ehud and throws their arms around him.
"Thank you sir for freeing me and my mommy! You are a hero!"
"Thank Hoar, boy," Ehud pats the boys head. "Hoar helps the weak. I was once weak. Worship the Doombringer and learn to wield the spear and javelin, then you'll always be able to protect your own mommy."
Arden smiles and nods as the other prisoners are released. Apparantly we were just another couple victims and were not targeted specifically. He helps some of the prisoners up and out of the crypt who need assistance or appear to be injured.
Wilam is puzzled by the situation. Who would stuff 8 captives in the smallest mauseleum and leave two in the largest mauseleum? "Something doesn't add up here... Arden, you and Jiles were seperated from the other group... Any idea why?"
Jiles shrugs, then rubs his chin. "Well, who knows? Maybe the other one was just too full?"
"Not likely. You two were in the largest mausoleum, the others were in the smallest." Wilam continues to feel suspicious, but can't put a finger on exactly why.
Arden shakes his head. "Like I said I had just fallen asleep at the inn when I was awoken by my kidnappers. We had sacks over our heads and could see and hear very little between the inn and our crypt. Next thing I know you all are fighting the corpses in the graveyard!"
"My story is not so simple. I was on my way to Winterhaven when I was approached and asked to deliver a note to an elven woman. We found her in the inn. I don't know what the note said, but I figured it was easy money." Jiles absently flips a shuriken along his knuckles as he talks, staring at the road in front of him.
"After you delivered the letter, what did you do before finding yourself here?"
"After delivering it to Ninaran, I offered her my services and drank up, had some cider, and rented a room at the inn. Why?"
"Perhaps the elfess presumed that you would be more able to save the captured townspeople than anyone else." He looks at the large crypt. "There may be clues in there. Care to take a look, Wilam?"
"Of course," Wilam steps into the vacated mauseleum. He casts Light on one of the caskets, "But these old eyes aren't good at searching for clues."
There is nothing remarkable about the crypt.
Bored out of his gourd, Varro begins checking every skeleton, and every open grave for any treasure he might find. The whole time talking to the skull wedged onto his axe.
" Ya tink der might be sumting in ere, I don't know what he did befer he be becoming undeed ...ya I be sure he was sumting like a butcher, a baker, or a candlestick maker. but I be not fer certian..."
The undead carried nothing of value or interest.
Finding nothing of interest anywhere in the graveyard, Varro heads towards town still talking to his new found friend wedged on his Greataxe.
"Yea, dis place be borin. I tink it be time fer a drink."
Hollers to the others, "I be meetin ya in da Tavern ... I ...we be headed ta get a drink or four."
One of the prisoners raises his hand saying:
"Wait up! I don't want to stay here any longer!"
The other villagers chime in and agree that they want to return to Winterhaven, and they all begin following Varro back down the path.
"A'ight, But I ain't be buying drinks fer da lot ov ya .. ya going ta have ta find a way ta pay fer ya own"
The villagers all chuckle at Varro's comments, obviously amused at his strange dwarven antics.
"Let me tell ya about dis time I hunted out a dragon in a tavern...."
Varro and the villagers begin their way down the path and out of sight.
The villagers all listen and laugh at Varro's stories of glory and adventure. The small boy who approached Ehud walks right beside the warrior, idolizing his every word.
Wilam joins them on the treck back to Winterhaven. He remains silent unless addressed by anyone other than Varro, who simply gets tight-lipped smiles and nods of sarcastic agreement when referred to in his wild stories.
Varro goes on with his story,
"So der I be, drinkin wit me new pals, when I *sniff sniff* smelled me sumting. and I not be sure if dey teach ya dis around dez parts but a dwarf be havin a keen sense of da smellin..."
After spending a few hours unconscious, the cheetah wakes up. It takes him a few moments to remember what happened and where he is. Again, memories of days long gone rush into his mind and tears start to well in his eyes. He changes back to his human form, wipes his cheeks and starts walking toward Winterhaven, hoping the others are safely there with the rescued villagers.
"Zombies and whiskey and wild wild women, they'll drive a man crazy, they'll drive him insane..." Ehud sings with his arms relaxing on the longspear over his shoulders.
Brann follows the others back to Winterhaven. Orcus, is there a reason behind this? He slips towards the back of the group as he focuses his thoughts inward to commune with Moradin.
As the party arrives at the gates of Winterhaven, the guards on top of the wall immediately open the giant doors.
They begin cheering and a crowd begins to form at the quickly spreading news of the villagers being returned.
The town is in an uproar with excitement and joy as the heroes walk through the town, being cheered on and greeted by all the townspeople.
They find Lord Padraig in the center of the town, grinning from ear to ear.
He quickly closes the distance and shakes each one of your hands, while saying:
"Thank you! Oh thank you so much! The town of Winterhaven cannot repay your kindness! Not only have you saved our stolen villagers, but I got wind a while ago that you were the ones to rid the valley of the Kobold Threat!
A great many thanks for all your help! Please, take this as a dowry of our appreciation."
Lord Padraig holds up a brown cloth sack, obivously full of coin. Inside it holds 250 gold.
Varro gladly accepts the cloth sack.
"Please stay in Wrafton's tonight, tonight is The Feast of the Flame, beginning our celebrations of Shieldmeet, two days from now. Salavana is even serving her famous Honey Mead and Hard Apple Cider! Come, come, let us begin the festivities."
Lord Padraig begins walking towards Wrafton's Inn, a light and cheerful mood frequents his step.
Wilam is not sure if he should protest the celebration. There isn't much time... but there is something to be said for high morale. Perhaps I'll have a talk with the Lord.
Wilam waits for a chance to catch Lord Padraig, "Your Grace, if I might have a word... in private."
"Of course! Let us move to the backroom of the Inn. We will have our privacy there."
Lord Padraig leads Wilam to the room behind the bar and closes the door behind them.
He pulls up two chairs, sits in one, an motions for Wilam to do the same.
"What may I do for you Wilam?"
Wilam goes to the inn and waits for Padraig in the back room. When he arrives, he wastes no time getting straight to the point, "Sire, I will be frank," Wilam looks Padraig directly in the eye. "There is a plot afoot that threatens Winterhaven's very existence. While the safe return of the townsfolk is cause for great happiness, now is not the time for a celebration." Wilam moves closer to the Lord to emphasize the seriousness of the issue. "We found correspondence from a common source among both the kobold's leader Irontooth and the elf responsible for kidnapping the townsfolk. A cult of the Demon Prince himself has uncovered an ancient portal that lies in the depths of the abandoned keep. They seek to open the portal and unleash the horrors of the Shadowfell upon Winterhaven. This is the prophecy, spoken by the elf in the graveyard:
'The rift shall be opened once more to the unyeilding glory of Orcus, Lord of the Undead.
His minions shall pour forth, spreading his influence across this valley, strengthening his grasp on this domain, pulling the Shadowfell forth into the mortal realm...'"
Wilam pauses to let the words sink in. "Let the festival continue and speak to no one about what I have just told you... help my friends and me to slip out to stop the threat in the keep. Then, when the cult has been erased, we will have cause for real celebration."
Knowing he could never persuade his companions to break away from the celebration now that it was fully underway, Wilam adjusted his plan for an ideal resolution, "We have had a hard day, so we will stay for the night... but we must be off, first thing in the morning."
Lord Padraig nods solemnly at Wilam.
"I had in fact heard rumors about a death cult in the area. This is dreadful news that you are confirming their existance. I know the history of Winterhaven has been riddled with evil and undead, all because of that Keep on the Shadowfell. If you and your capable friends would be able to venture into the keep and end this threat for good, Winterhaven would forever be in your debt."
Lord Padraig fumbles with his hands, rubbing them together as he takes in this dire news.
"Aye. I will help you in leaving Winterhaven early tomorrow morning. I will have supplies waiting for you with Salvana when you wake. When you are ready, I will make sure the gates are free and open for your departure."
Ehud goes into Wrafton's smacks Salavana on the rump and smiling says, "Honey Mead for this hero, please!”
This has been a hard day for Belimir. Although he doesn`t feel like celebrating, he knows how the townsfolk feel, having an undead threat dealt with. He is still shaken by what has happened at the graveyard but can control himself much better now. He keeps away from the central part of the celebration with a mug in his hand.
Varro continues on with the crowd to the tavern.
“A few coins, some free food n free mead ... now dat be what I be talkin about.
can't be stayin fer two days fer no celerbration, but no need ta be spoilin a feast. 'Morrow we can be worryin about dat keep ...maybe we get back in time fer da festivities.”
The celebration goes on well into the night, joyous villagers, shopkeepers, and farmers all join together. The Undead threat dealt with and the beginning of the holiday brings countless amounts of joy to Winterhaven.
The heroes all take in the festivities, drinking, eatting, and celebrating each in their own way. They retire late in the night to their respective rooms, falling fast asleep, and resting well after several days of hard, yet rewarding adventuring.
