Fergus:

”I don’t know that the townsfolk can make it without a rest first,” suggests Fergus, adding, “Let’s move together to the sheltered dale I remember from when we got here.”

Fergus tries to gather up the townsfolk and shepherd them into the dale, saying, “Come here, my friends, and take your ease.”

Boona held up when told to and placed her burden down, " We sleep here now?", she queried.

Unless anyone has other business first, the party camps out-of-sight, in a sandy dell just off the trail headed west, back down this black mountain. It is an uneventful night - and a short one - as the sky soon brightens. But there is no sunrise; the sky is a dark, steely grey. There is a gloom in the air. The grit here gets under your clothes and irritates your skin.

Jorzu feels a sharp pain in his throat as he dozes fitfully, which then subsides. His companions can see that he has grown a third eye upon his Adam's apple, which has just opened its new eyelid. As he awakens, he discovers that it is not under his control; rather, it looks around nervously, blinking.

Quinn awakens from nightmares to a disturbing voice urging him and his companions to go back into the lower level of the outpost, and step into that churning blue lava sea.

It is just after noon before everyone feels marginally rested and somewhat fit to travel. The day is dark and dreary, and you'll need to get started soon if you want to make Phandalin before nightfall. Everyone may receive the benefits of a Long Rest.

Boona rose, noted Jorzus new ocular addition, checked her own throat.....then grunted happily and asked if the former prisoners needed carrying today before setting off once more her stomach growling noisily.

Fergus:

Waking up and feeling moderately refreshed, Fergus goes over and checks on the freed townsfolk.  If any of them seem to be still suffering from the effects of the poisonous air of the outpost, he offers to help (casting Lesser Restoration), in addition to offering some of his rations.

He is just about to start his morning encouraging song when he sees Jorzu’s new addition and stops in his tracks.  Digging a small mirror out of his pack, he holds it up to Jorzu and asks with concern, “You feeling okay there, my friend?  You seem to have acquired an extra eye overnight.”

Fergus:

Anyone else looking particularly out of sorts today?

Insight:  6

Jorzu 

Jorzu stirs from a fitful rest. “…khh-cough…” he rasps. When Fergus raises a mirror it takes a moment for the image staring back at him to register. "Intriguing. It feels no different, but you are right, I have an eye in my throat. Hmmm...". A long awkward moment ensues as Jorzu tries to make eye contact with his new ocular acquisition. "I can't see through it. I wonder were it came fr...." a light flashes through his mind, a eureka moment, "the jar! It must have left something on, or in, me when I carried it. Has anyone else grown an appendage?" 

He spins around to look at the others. As he does his cloak billows around him. When he comes to a stop his shabby garment swirls and appears to change. The thin, hole ridden material soon fills out into an animal skin complete with fur collar. He pulls the collar tight around his neck, all but covering his new eye in grey wolf fur. With his new look complete he calls out for Laiti in a concerned voice.

Fergus:

"But...I carried it too!" squeaks Fergus in alarm.  He starts looking in the mirror at himself, searching for any new sensory organs on his body.

"Yes, I'd like a carry" replies Paulina the stablehand, whom Boona carried last night for a short stretch. "My leg is not good." 

Fergus looks around. Everyone is looking tired and haggard. He then examines his own body, which seems to be free of extra organs. The villagers, while still malnourished and weak, are mostly clear of the poisons in their lungs. (No Lesser Restoration needed.)

Jorzu covers his newly-adorned throat with his new fur collar. He feels normal, even as he can feel eyelashes flickering occasionally under his collar.
Laiti appears. "That was boring. We leaving?"

The weather is humid and grey. The sky is a steely overcast dome that feels low and oppressive.

(What next? Straight back to Phandalin with your three charges? Where in town are you headed? Anything you need to do on your way in?)

( Boona just wants to go to Phandalin. Dump the prisoners with a healer and head back out after Bryonys family.......though she has no idea where they may be.)

Quinn awakens, a bit grumpier than usual. He groans and stretches. He mutters to himself "Bloody hells, that was a crap sleep." He looks back at Zorzula's rest and vivid recollections of his nightmares creep back. He packs his things and joins the group to discuss plans just as Fergus discovers Jorzu's new appendage.

"Jorzu. I haven't known you for very long, but is this a habit of yours? Growing new body parts?" He watches as Jorzu's new eye seemingly moves on it's own with disregard for Jorzu's will. "You best keep that thing covered. Who knows, it could be a spy for someone or something. You don't have any new ears anywhere do ya?"

Quinn quickly searches his body, sorting through his beard, looking in his shirt and taking a peek down his trousers. He recoils, not out fear, but in disgust at offensive odor. He makes a mental note to take a dip in a lake or river as soon as convenient. 

"Let's break camp and escort the townsfolk back to Phandalin. Maybe check back at Bryony's aunt's house to see if Carp turned up."

The trudge back down and out of the mountains is uneventful. The weather remains grim, but there are no signs of rain yet. It somehow both humid and bone dry. 

As the daylight is beginning to ebb, the party arrives in Phandalin. Its buildings seem more drab than normal. The townspeople seem tired, wan, and unwell. Fergus' sharp eyes note that scaly fungi, nearly imperceptible, have grown between the cracks in Phandalin’s buildings and cobblestones. 

Before you can get far in town, Gwyn Oresong, the dwarven sage, spots your arrival from the front of the inn. "You're back! What did you find? Come in! Come eat! Tell me what you've learned!" She beckons you inside the inn.

(Everyone should now be Level 7.)

Fergus:

"Professor Oresong, a pleasure to see you again," responds Fergus.  Gesturing to the rescued townsfolk, he says, "Let us get these good townsfolk some hot food, cold ale, and a comfortable place to sit and relax."  Gesturing to his allies, he adds to the dwarven sage, "The rest of us have been through a lot this past day as well and need to take our ease for a moment, but there are still abducted townsfolk to find and we need to do some research to find where they have been taken---your help would be most welcome in that endeavor."

Going into the tavern and getting settled for dinner, Fergus shows Professor Oresong the map and starts sharing what they learned from Ruxithid before hostilities broke out.  He also starts looking at the papers he took from the desk, hoping to find additional clues.

References for discussion:

Conversation with Ruxithid:

Voices heard after Ruxithid's demise:

Papers:

Bryony sees a table in the east wing covered in papers and notes. On top is a crudely drawn map covered with messy arrows and scrawled labels. The room is otherwise unoccupied

”Papers?” exclaims Fergus, realizing he is too small to be of much help in moving the rescued prisoners.  He rushes off in the direction indicated and grabs the papers.  If there is a writing utensil, he will scribble down the locations Ruxithid and the disembodied voices mentioned before grabbing it all and following the party and prisoners to the lift.

Among many sketches and notes, Fergus finds a crudely drawn map of the region on the central table in the east wing, with messy arrows and scrawled labels reading “Gibbet Crossing,” “Crypt of the Talhund,” and “Talhundereth” – the same names the voices had hissed. (Fergus: Make a Religion check.) 

Fergus mulls over the words he heard spoken as he gathers the papers from the east wing of the sanctum. It occurs to him that the message’s tone as well as the means of communication are unlike any known divine tradition—this must be some other kind of powerful entity or group of entities, posing as gods to accomplish their malign ends.