After witnessing the spectacle, Droknin asks in a low voice, so that it doesn't attack the attention of the dragon. "So, how did you know the white wyrm was coming?"

(Perhaps, we could give it a little more distance and take a long rest?)

Aranea stares at the power of the dragon and shudders. She is very glad to no longer be inside the temple. "I had some sort of strange vision," she whispers. "When I touched the altar, it was as if I was at Icespire Peak. My vision followed the dragon as it flew here."

Barkas lies low, then holds his head at the sound as the dragon rips into the structure, jarred by the sight.  “Aranea…” he manages to get out.   He waits and watches to see if the dragon will stay in the structure.  He looks from side to side at his companions, breathing the cool night air and just feeling lucky, so lucky to be alive.  

Less than a minute passes, and then the white dragon re-emerges, slowly, from the hole it hard torn open in the roof of the temple.  Clutched under one of its forelimbs is the great golden bell.  Once entirely back up on the roof, it rears back, lifting the bell high overhead in its white talons, and roars.  It is the sound of hurricane winds and cracking, calving glaciers, the noise booming across the open plains around the monastery like peeling thunder.

Draconic:

 She spreads her great, shimmering wings and looks about to take flight... but then pauses.  Her head cocks slightly in your direction.  Though you are far beyond the reach of the effects of dragon-fear, you feel lumps in your throats all the same.  She sets the bell on the roof and then gracefully climbs down, disappearing behind the wall of the monastery.  For a moment or two, you wonder what she may be doing, but then she climbs back up into view, an Orc corpse in one clawed hand and another in her jaws.  Collected the bell again, she takes a running start and leaps fromt he roof into the sky.  It takes furious beating of her wings to gain altitude and several low circles around the monastery to gain air.  One circle brings her agonizingly close to your hiding space, but this is a victory lap for her, not a hunting expedition.  Eventually she rises to a desirable height and turns south again, gliding back at a much more leisurely pace than with which she had approached.  A few minutes later, she has vanished from sight.

T'laren lowers his hand from where it has been poised to grab Droknin by the mane if he stood with a mind to challenge the White. 

The elf lets out a held breath, and an elvish curse.

Droknin puts his paw on T'laren's shoulder. "Worry not my friend. In my younger years, I would have follow the wyrm to its layer, but not today. We need to rest and figure out what we are doing next."

"Did it seem that the dragon knew that bell was there once it fell and the gold was revealed? I've heard of such creatures having a nose for gold and the like, but ghosts jarring a secret golden bell loose and the dragon arriving within the hour...", T'laren muses.

Aranea watches as the dragon claims its prize, her eyes wide. The creature was powerful indeed to lift a heavy bell with such ease. How did the dragon know about the prize so quickly? T'laren voiced her own questions aloud.

"Perhaps the vision I triggered had something to do with it, notified the dragon somehow," she muses. "Either way I'll be a bit more careful in mimicking the gestures of ghostly apparitions from now on. The dragon is likely returning to its lair. We should be safe enough to rest for a while, but I'd prefer we retreat a bit further from this place."

Barkas nods in agreement.  “Aye, I agree with that.  Let’s get away to somewhere safe… maybe if we can rest for an hour before we travel too far..”. ((If so, Barkas takes a short rest as before.))

(@DM. What time is now?)

Very late in the night.  Dawn should be just a few more hours.

"Although... the dragon, with its prize and a full belly, isn't likely to return, if there was anything more we hoped to learn from the shrine. The apparitions, your vision, the bell falling... all didn't leave much time to take stock of the place."

Barkas looks at T’laren with his head cocked to one side, thinking.  “What if one dared to touch that altar again, would it give a vision a second time?  Seems that it was true…”.   Barkas keeps working on binding up his wounds from before.  

(Perhaps we can make our way back to the farmhouse, and get a long rest there?)

((Yeah. Sounds good to me. Did we take any time to check for orcish plunder?))

(Yeah, a long rest sounds good.)

Aranea considers T'laren's words. "That's true. Perhaps we can come back in the morning after we've slept."

“Perhaps we should check them quickly before heading back to the farmhouse… unless… you don’t think it will return, do you?”  Barkas looks questioningly at Aranea.  

The warlock shakes her head. "I think T'laren is right. It has its prize now and fed on some of the orcs. It shouldn't return this day."

Taking the lead, Aranea moves back toward the temple. She can't help but cast her glance toward the sky every few moments though. Inside the temple, she will search for anything that seems valuable, including on the corpses of the orcs and ogres.

Investigation - 13

It seems Aranea’s nerves are shot for the night.  Creeping into the monastery, she cannot focus on searching the Orcs, her eyes perpetually jerking skyward at every gust of wind.

Other than some crude Orcish hide armor and their greataxes, she doesn’t spot anything useful before she retreats back to the others.

Droknin has the sword ready if the Dragon does return. After Aranea returns, Droknin suggests that the party returns to the farm.