The tall creature with the wings and jackal-skull head softly raps Umble’s head, then points to the entrance to a nearby valley. “Ah, Thoot, now that is a brilliant idea!” exclaims the gregarious bird. “You are from Roslar’s Coffer, and they are from Roslar’s Coffer. Perhaps you can help us? If so, we can provide you with some very helpful information about wending you in a homewardly direction. Some awful tragedy befell this Roslar’s Coffer. Everyone there died quite suddenly overnight. Well, everyone but you, apparently, but in any case, the sum of the populatory has deposited here, dead or otherwise. Their souls are milling about in that valley over there. As happens on such calamitous occasions, the inhabitants aren’t quite ready to admit that they’ve died. Despite their obvious amortality. Now, Thoot and I, we are not psychopomps in the greatest esteem. One might say we’re on our last chances around here. But because these souls have arrived in our territory, it’s our duty to make them accept their mortality and move them along in a soulwardly way. But they took one look at us, called us ‘monsters,’ and accosted us with homicidal intent. They wouldn’t allow any discussionment. Now, eventually, more powerful psychopomps will be along to settle this all out, but Thoot and I will be in a terrible amount of trouble in light of this failing. Here is our propositionality: if you convince these souls they’ve expired—as, until the recent event of their passing that you somehow avoided, you were among their kind—we can tell you about the Dead Roads: the roads from the Boneyard to mortal worlds, that is. Have we a deal?”

Shi looks thoughtful. "So we convince them that they are dead, and you give us directions out of here," she says thoughtfully. "Directions from the land of the dead is always useful, I suppose. I don't suppose you know how everyone died?"

"I'm afraid not. We are but lowly psychopomps, charged with ensuring that the transition from life to death is as untraumatical as possible. Knowledge of how the deceased came to our realm isn't given to us."

Morticia watches the exchange between Shi and the creatures calling themselves Umble and Thoot with wide eyes, trying to process all the information they were being given at the moment. So they were in the land of the dead but they weren't dead themselves? And there was something in their hearts? ALL of Roslar's Coffer died?! Now they were to convince the people that they are all really dead to find a way out of here!?

"This has to be a nightmare..." The rogue pinches her cheeks. Grey hues look over the others. "If we have no explanation on how they died, how are we gonna convince them they are actually really dead when we're not actually dead ourselves?"

Thoot puts her hand under her non-existent chin, clearly thinking about something. After a moment, she taps Umble's head again, communicating something to the more talkative psychopomp. "Thoot hypothesizes that you should perhaps seek out some figure that in life had some position of authoritiveness in Roslar's Coffer and work to convince them of their amortality. Them being in our lady's realm is proof enough, but perhaps their denial will be lessened if it is coming from a trusted source instead of creatures they believe are monsters."

The two Psychopomps make Corinne uncomfortable, as she clutches a little tighter to Shi's arm, the normally very well put together courtesan looking a little worse for wear from their adventure thus far. As they continue to discuss their request, the absurdity of the encounter begins to set in, to numb the whole experience to that of a dream,

'Settle... remember, you yourself are a real monster, why would something like this bother you? You've seen firsthand that some of the worst monsters are merely men, and you've handled many men, what are some guardians and guides to the souls of the dead?'

At the mention of an offer to show the party the way out of the boneyard, Corinne perks up, training her glowing eyes on to the macabre beings, "We will help those poor souls accept their new surroundings, are there any dangers for....ahem, mortals like us to look out for?"

At Umbral's first words, Greyce would tilt their head in curiosity, mirroring the creature. At the mention of something in their heart, they'd look down at their chest, poking their exposed flesh. "Huh..." They didn't see any evidence of something piercing their chest. They'd shrug, then watch Shi ask her string of questions, listening to the responses. Greyce would twitch a little when the Psychopomp mentions 'a bit of a tweak'.

When Morticia would clap her cheeks, it'd catch Greyce's attention. A soft chuff would leave their nose in amusement from her reaction.

Thoot tapping Umble gets their attention once again.

One thing at a time... Greyce would ground themselves thinking back to what Shi last said. Convince poeple their dead and get the directions out. Plain and simple.

"Not at the moment, but I would not dawdle. I am not certain of how our superiors would react to the presence of vitalitous ones in the Boneyard."

Corinne nods, “thank you” she turns to the rest of the group, looking to each of them, “shall we help those poor souls move on? I would very much like to get back to a familiar place, although...” she bites her lip and scrunches her face up in worry, “If everyone in Roslar’s coffee is dead and down there....I don’t know what kind of place we will be journeying back to...”

Shi shrugs. "One with a lot of bodies," she says with a faint smile. "But I suppose I should take a form they are a bit more likely to recognize...one moment while I find Briana's death."

The first arrow hits my leg, knocking me to the ground and making me easy prey for the next, slicing into my stomach. Should have checked the crenellations more thorougly...I feel my knives slip from my fingers as the third and final arrow streaks towards my head.

In a shimmer of light, Shi's pale form is replaced with that of a red-haired elf with dark green eyes and competent bearing. She calmly flicks a stray fiery lock out of her eyes. "Right then, let's go find some spirits," Briana says briskly, starting confidently across the plain.

Briana:

Watching Corinne bite her lip in concern, followed by Shi's smile, Greyce would toss a confident wink the maidens way. They'd take out their scythe with a flourish, striding forward.

There's a quiet whine that escapes Morticia at the thought  of venturing back to a place with a lot of dead bodies. Without much of a choice here, the rogue quietly trails behind the others, hoping to rip this band aid off sooner than later.

A small valley stretches out beyond the rocky pass. Winding stands of gray trees and tumbledown walls mirror the layout of Roslar’s Coffer, with simple trails in place of roads. Softly glowing figures—some of them with familiar faces—wander about, apparently practicing their daily routines. All 435 residents of Roslar's Coffer can be found here, and standing off by herself is an aging woman that you all should be able to recognize: Lady Mullana Grive, the mayor of Roslar's Coffer.

Briana makes her way over to the mayor. "Hello," she says politely. "Do you know where we are?"

"Yes, we're all in the Boneyard right now. I don't know how we all got here, but like I told the other villagers, if we remain calm and wait, the Knights of Ozem will arrive to rescue us and take us back to Roslar's Coffer."

Briana blinks. "Typically, one gets to the Boneyard by dying," she points out mildly. "Have you considered that potential answer?"

"That does seem like the most reasonable conclusion, although it caused the townspeople to fly into a terrible panic. Now I'm willing to try again, but only if you're able to convince the town council, which is led by Arabella Tharmethion, and the children of the town. I've never been good with children and I don't think that I could tell them without warping their little souls."

The rogue let's Shi handle the talking, as she was probably the best suited one to do so. She was probably the most level headed with all of this happening at once, and the most convincing (next to Janna). She does, however, frown at the aspect of needing to tell children that they've passed on, leaning over to whomever is closest to her and asking, "Are you any good with kids? Or, um, talking in general?"

Shi considers. "Hmmmm. Very well. Can you direct us to the council members?"

Greyce would hurm and haw when Morticia would lean in to ask anyone if they were good with kids, or talking in general. "Shiiiit." They'd blurt, scratching the back of their head. "Ahhhh **** it!" The armoured curved figure would stride forward towards a youngling.

"Hey kid." Greyce would crouch down, bringing their scythe forward to rest along their lap. Grey eyes would watch the kid, waiting for their reaction. Most kids were resilient, more curious than anything. Hoping they found one with an open mind, Greyce would rock their curved blade to flicker in the light. "Have you seen one of these before?" They'd ask, rolling the weapon over so the blade is facing away from the child. "Story books show this as a weapon that takes life, belonging to the reaper of death." They'd run their finger along the blade and when reaching the tip, it's sharpness would cut their skin and a drop of blood would pool. "But in the hands of a humble farmer, it's a tool that nurtures life." The blade would glow a feint purple, sealing the wound. "There are those who have the ability to give life, and those that must carry the heavy burden of guiding life on." Greyce would do their best to explain. "It takes someone really brave to understand the importance of this cycle, the emphasis of balance, and to accept it as an unbiased duty." Their chin would lift slightly with dignity.

"We are in limbo, little one." Greyce would reach out, gently tilting the childs chin their way. "Do you understand?" They'd ask. After a short pause they'd continue, "Are you, a Brave One? Will you help us bring balance to your village?"

Greyce's attempt at some 'tough love' understanding:
Persuasion?: 4
If you allow adv for her using her weapon as a prop or someone else to stand with her for help if she comes off too strong?: 20