Everasil - Game thread

The massive blonde bearded warrior lets out a deep chuckle at the sight of the dancing birdman, his dour mood somewhat alleviated. "I take that as a yes. Let us leave this place then." He says, reaching out for Ember's hand, hoping they will all find their way back safely to Dawn’s Point and their reward.

As the kenku's victory dance is revealed, Ember joins in. Picking up Aggie about twirling him about then kicking dirt at where the tear used to be, she quickly tuckers herself out--tired in a way she's never felt before.

As Thurodim reaches out, the little wizard tiredly takes his hand and inquires of her companions, "We're gonna get Bart out too, right? Not gonna... leave him here by his lonesome?" 

In the aftermath, Ozyre is happy to join in the revelry with a small gnomish jig. His feet patter about the floor like he's out in a rainstorm and trying desperately to keep the ground dry, with a moderate degree of success.

Then, in the post-aftermath, he decides to make the most use of Bart's scroll as possible. "Hey, Ember, d'y'think you could translate all of the writings in the room for me while I scribe them? It'd let us get the syntax of the language down, plus a few words. Probably not enough to write about anything other than grave stuff, but it's something, and if you have a little bit of an entry into the mystery of a language there are tons and tons of methods to figure a little bit more out, piece by piece, and then before you know it we've mastered the whole thing!"

At the question on Bart, Ozyre's tone gets a bit more solemn. Not so solemn that the solemnity is jarring, just a tad. "I'm certain we'll get a chance to keep our promise and honor Bart on the way out. Might be a bit tough, but if we can we should get him a nice spot around his farm."

"Yes..." Thurodim nods in agreement with the little giant, giving Ember a reassuring smile. "...the curse over this land is hopefully lifted now, we should put Bart and his friends to rest by the farm before we head back to the town." He adds. He isn't particularly interested in deciphering anything but stoically says nothing, instead standing, albeit somewhat restlessly and uneasy, as the others conclude their business in the cursed cave.

Ember nods, satisfied with the promise they’ll put those who perished to rest, and shuffles around the chamber, reading the symbols on the walls and urns at a fairly rapid pace.

“It’s a lot of names on these!” she says, pointing at the urns. “But I don’t recognize them. Allll the people I’ve met,” she turns to the gnome in an aside, “and I’ve met *hundreds*, but I’ve never heard nothing like them before.” Her energy comes in little bursts, like a puppy that runs itself out before flopping down in place to rest, and eventually she’s leaning quite heavily against Ozyre while he transcribes the symbols.

Ember, as you go over the funeral urns and boxes on display across the chamber, you essentially find, as previously mentionned, names of people buried here. The names sound foreign and ancient. With the help of Ozyre, you’re also able to gather titles that these people had during their lifetime. In general, they are military titles such as sergeant, captain, etc.

Once you’ve completed your investigation, you head out of the crypt and make your way back towards the chamber where you left Bart’s lifeless body.

Thurodim would take it on himself to deal with the gruesome task of collecting what is left of poor Bart in any way he can to bring him back to the farm. He would then head back there as soon as the others are all ready for that.

As the party gathers around Bart's body, the voice of their bugbear employer booms throughout the room.

"...You’ll be paid once…or if…you return and confirm that all’s well...".

The Kenku looks down at the corpse of Bart, then looks to everyone else and shrugs. 

"I guess we might not be paid then..." The massive blonde bearded warrior grunts and sighs heavily. He could have used the gold but considering what they had been through he was mostly interested in finishing up their duties at the farm and return to Dawn's point and deliver their report. Perhaps there would be some gratitude from someone over them closing the rift.

With the body of Bart now in your possession and a bit of doubt on your mind, you begin to head down the corridor you originally arrived from. The sinkhole is still wide open overhead, but something is different. The rain seems to be slowly subsiding, and looking up, you notice that the clouds above in the sky are starting to disperse. The exit up ahead brings you along the river bank, where you can then fairly easily climb the slope to return the ground level and within walking distance of the farmhouse.

"The curse, it is truly lifted." The massive blonde bearded warrior says with a hint of a smile as he watches the clearing skies above. He would help the smaller heroes up the slope and take the lead back to the farm, carrying the grisly remains of Bart the dabbler in forbidden magic.

"All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown," Ember quotes somewhat cryptically, an air of somber wisdom about the child as she surveys their calmed surroundings. 

The effect is ruined as she jumps into a large puddle with a cackle of laughter. 

As Ember laughs in the puddle, Cork looks at her with his black, beady eyes.  He repeats, "...All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown...".

Then, in a different voice - one you've heard from him before - he continues, "...What you just said, I would like to appropriate that for future use.  Was that an original statement, or do you have a citation for it?...".

Ember continues to find the biggest puddles she can as they continue, creating wide splash zones around her. 

Delighted to hear her voice mimicked, she grins back at [Sound of Cork Popping], face splattered with mud, before her expression goes blank. As though reciting the biographic blurb on the back cover of a book, she answers, "All's Well That End's Well by the Bard of Avon. Waterdhavian playwright, poet and actor. Widely regarded as the greatest writer in the Common language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. The Bard's works—at least 37 plays, 154 sonnets, and 2 narrative poems—capture the range of human emotion and conflict and have been celebrated for more than 400 years." 

The little wizard blinks, grins again, then promptly returns to play while poor Aganazzar burrows into her scarf to keep from being splashed with mud. It's a moment later that she suddenly stops in the path ahead, turning back to her companions with the wide eyes of realization.

"What are you guys gonna do next? When we finish this that means we'll be finished with... each other?"

Ozyre trots along towards the farmhouse, the determination that comes from the finish line being in sight fighting against the fatigue from a long day of adventuring and winning, as it will presumably continue to do until the next morning, at which point he'll be too sore to do anything. His strut stops for a moment as he ponders Ember's question, then he picks right back up once he's decided he's found a suitable answer. "Well, what I do next isn't decided yet. I didn't come here with much of a plan, really. When you have a plan, you're just focusing on one door that leads to where you're going, and if that door closes before you get where you're going, which it more or less always does, then you have no idea where you are and you have no idea where you can go next because you've just been looking at one door the whole way and you've closed your eyes to so many others. On the other hand, when you don't have a plan, you can see all the doors and all the ways forward and you can bob and weave through them however you like and you barely notice when one closes because there countless others that are just as good and you can take any of them that you like.

"Now, whether any of the doors that I'll be taking will lead me back around to you fine people, I can't say. But I can say that it's very very very very very likely. For one, whatever paths I take, I know they're going to be adventurous, and adventuring is a group activity. There's only so many monsters one hammer can smash, and without all the awesome magicamastuff that you and [Sound of Cork Popping] are so good at, I can't imagine anything would be half as easy. For two, I wanna be there when everybody does what they want to do. Everything I've heard about your grandpa makes him sound like someone I'd really like to meet. And Cork's no doubt going to make some great discoveries about the things on this continent that'll be shipped off to more institutes than you can imagine." He adds in some discreet Gnomish, "[Plus, I bet I could get him to give us credit as co-authors. That means we'd be famous!]" He returns to Common. "And Thurodim... well, I'm not entirely sure what his goal is, but I'm sure there'll be some wild rides that I'd love to help with!"

"So, you know what, I think I actually can answer your question. Obviously I can't speak for everybody, but the end of this quest does not mean the end of the group."

Thurodim keeps leading the group back, walking straighter now as if a heavy weight had been lifted of his massive shoulders, grumbling something but also letting on a small smile as Ember plays around in the puddles they pass. He doesn't get much of what they talk about but he actually recognizes the name the little one mentions. If he had the time he would indulge in his writing as soon as their mission was finished. "I hope our next quest will be something a bit less sinister and less witchy but for my part I hope to have your continued company when I explore this wild continent." He says with a small smile back to the others as he keeps walking back to the farm.

Discussing your future endeavors, you eventually reach the farm house. By then, the clouds have parted enough for you to see the sun up in the sky. Based on its position, you’d say it’s getting close to midday.

Now that’s in the sun, the farmhouse does seem quaint. Forgetting the dead bodies currently lying in the beds and the state of neglect, it may have been a nice place to live once.

Seeing the farmhouse in a new light now, the massive blonde bearded warrior stops and turns to his brave but quite small companions. "You know, I am a restless one, and I will go on more adventures, but it would be nice to have something to call a home. I doubt Bart would mind if we settled in here for some time after reporting back to the hairy one." He says with a bright smile, seeming quite sincere.

Thurodim would then see to the grisly work of getting the bodies into the ground, side by side by an old oak a bit away from the farmhouse, hoping some of the others with a better sense for aestetchics could make something that would commemorate Bart and his family. He hoped they would all rest in peace now in the afterlife while he and his new family got on with theirs.

As the party returns to the quaint farmhouse, Cork takes a moment to stroll around the grounds and look at the area in the daylight, absent the relentless rain.  He gets low to the ground and examines the puddles and damp mud as he slowly makes his way around the property.  He looks a bit like an enormous bird, looking for insects in the ground.

And that's exactly what he is!  Kind of.  He is taking the opportunity to examine what sort of invertebrates are drawn out of the soil now that the rains have stopped and the sunlight has returned.

Relieved that she and her new best friends would not be parting ways so soon, Ember hums happily to herself as they return, resilient in the way only children are.

"A home..." Ember echoes, gazing wide-eyed at the farmhouse, now cast in a new light. 

She helps to dig the holes for the bodies, digging her bare hands into the wet dirt like little shovels, though she quickly tires and recruits her smoky Mage Hand for extra assistance. The hand flickers in and out of existence, the toll of the fight clearly catching up with the spell-drained pyromancer. Aggie, meanwhile, scurries off to collect any flowers or small items like acorns and nice rocks. He brings them back and creates little piles over the graves.