Tharin retrieves the roots and wordlessly sets them in front of the Duke, then settles back toward the door. His task is over in this endeavor, so he lets the thinkers do the rest.

Fizzbang puffs up his rather unimpressive chest. Ignoring the wound in his leg, he saunters forward. "Aye, Duke! We've recovered the root you sent us for! At no small personal sacrifice I might add! Perhaps next time you should make traveling adventurers aware of the necromantic horrors that lurk within your forest. We agreed for a simple jaunt into nature to recover a tuber or two, not to becoming pincushions and punching bags for undead minotaurs. "

*Aside* When Fizzbang gets a chance he would like to study the spellbook we found in the forest. 

"Undead minotaurs?" the Duke asks, concerned. "Times are odd indeed, my friend, if the undead disturb Ysmir's Rest. That is a sanctified place, there should be no necromancy there. But I thank you for taking the risk for the young lady. I will try and find some form of recompense for your troubles, but I must ask that you be patient. I will go make what I can from this to help our lady. If you wouldn't mind staying here? I shouldn't be long. I'll have Harold bring you all some food," and the Duke exits without waiting for a response. His brow is furrowed and he thumbs the roots idly, lost in thought.

Moments later Harold enters with a platter of dried meats, a large pot of soup, and 5 wooden bowls and spoons. He sets the tray down wordlessly on the desk, nods somewhat more warmly than before at you all, and exits.

The Marquess then looks up from the Lady Rhea and addresses you, "Thank you all. I do hope this is not too much of a burden on you. I would hate to put others in mortal danger for our sake..." he says as he looks at his feet.

Fizzbang, gnawing on some dried venison you have a chance to scan through the book a bit. It's all in an old dwarfish text, but plenty legible. The spells that are most easily read are: Message, Identify, Unseen Servant, and Mage Armor. You are unable to practice them as of yet, but after a good night's sleep and some time to test them you would learn them just fine.

Kynortas sits down and happily, hungrily eats some food. Dying is tough work, but he wouldn't tell the nobility of his troubles. He thought of his actions this day and where he went wrong. His thoughts wandered to the strap on his armor that he let break and the small rivet that attached it. He was troubled that he let something so small slip his attention. Tonight before he went to sleep he would mend his armor so that it would better protect him.

"Please don't trouble yourself, Marquess. Your father didn't realize what was going on and you could not have acted with the Lady being as..... attached as she is currently. It is fortunate we came along when we did. I have been happy to help. Hopefully, more light will be shed tonight and we can finally begin finding who did this to the Lady."

Aracynth rose wearily to join his comrades in the next room. The guard captain brought them food, which he began to eat rather slowly, as if savoring every bite while expending the least effort he could manage. He watched quietly as the others discussed the trial they had faced, ready to lay down and sleep for the night.

"That was some mortal danger alright!" Fizzbang grumbled at he ravaged his stew. All that dying had really worked up his appetite. He looked up thoughtfully. "Say, Marquess, if Ysmir's Rest is a sanctified place, what's a horde of undead doing roaming around? Sounds like Ysmir's sanctity has become a little suspect. And those weren't your hedge-mage variety undead either. Powerful necromancy went into creating those. Any idea who or what might want to do such a thing?"

"I agree wholeheartedly! I'm guessing my father will speak with Lord Veskhal'din when he gets the chance. They do minor dealings, usually in trade, but since we have befriended the Drow I'm sure they would help us and determine the source," the Marquess says matter-of-factly. "Personally I don't know what could have manifested within the Hallow, but with Lady Rhea's condition, undead in the forest, and my father's odd dreams of late... something is certainly afoot."

"I do not believe the Duke would take Kindly to you spilling his personal issues to strangers..." Harold scoffs at the Marquess.

After this moment of speaking amongst yourselves the Duke returns with a large cup of a greenish, thick liquid. It sloshes slowly as he walks into the room and he smiles at you all. "Grandmother's recipe," he grins.

"Alright, my dear," the Duke murmurs as he sits next to Lady Rhea, "drink up. This will help."

As he does so the Lady takes a look into the cup and smells it. Her face contorts and she smacks the Duke's hand, knocking the cup to the floor, mumbling something completely incoherent! The Duke, one eyebrow raised, picks up the cup and sloshes what is about half of the liquid left. "Now, now," he says calmly but forcefully, "No need to be rash. If we were to have a contest of tempers I'm sure I would win..." Saying this he wraps the lady in a one armed hug, holding her arms, and pours the drink into her mouth.

Coughing and sputtering she relaxes and slumps a little. Duke Armitage releases her and she remains with her head hanging, the whole room quiet. When she looks up her eyes are a beautiful green, the haze and rheum vanished. She looks at all of you very slowly, eyes the Marquess, and looks up at Duke Reznik Armitage; then immediately begins sobbing.

Tharin takes his soup back to the corner of the room. He watches the proceedings, waiting for the lady to calm down, in her own time. His quarry is in front of him, and he is not letting her out of his sight, but he doesn't need to leave until tomorrow.

Aracynth ceased eating and pulled himself into a more attentive position at the Lady Rhea's distress. Duke Armitage seem to have the young maiden well in hand though, so the Paladin waited silently, on the chance he could be of service.

The Duke waited a moment and lifted the Lady's chin with his large paw. "Lady Rhea, you're safe. These fine men have helped us and the Marquess has been worried about you. Can you tell us anything that happened?" His dark face was obscured by furrows and sympathy as he beheld the small woman.

"I... I..." she sobbed, "I don't know!" Her body wracked with gasps and choking she sputters out a few words. "The last thing I remember I was in the castle ready to go riding... I ate my dinner with my family and then..." she stifles another gasp, "I remember rain and wind on my face... but I woke up here!" She looks up, bleary eyed and puffy, into the faces of everyone in the room.

"There was nothing odd about the dinner? No extra guests? Please, m'Lady, anything we can do to help you." Reznik Armitage looks a man who suddenly aged 15 years in a moment.

"I... I really don't know... The crew seemed normal..." she says, exasperated.

"This is troubling indeed..." Aracynth intoned, pushing through his own weariness. "You may call me Aracynth, M'Lady, and we are all glad to see you recovered and in control of your own faculties once more. We will work diligently to find and expose the source of your troubles.

Do you recall any oddities, in regards to your honored parents, the day you prepared to go riding?"

Lady Rhea looks at the dragonborn and nods slightly. She then looks at the ceiling, trying to remember, "I would say no, but there is something that bothers me. My father had been spending more and more time alone lately. Sometimes in his study, sometimes in the small church in the castle yards. He is still cheerful and always warm to me, but I just saw him less often." She now looks down, tears welling in her eyes again "I hope they're ok... I miss them so."

Aracynth nods, "They earnestly miss you as well. As it happens, we were tasked by the Duke and Duchess Oglethorn to not only locate you, but also to escort you home safely, when you are ready. Whatever curse was laid upon you is indeed troubling, but at least we can make sure no further harm will befall you.

It is late now, and I think we all deserve a chance to rest. Let us set aside our worries this eve, and continue our discussion in the morning."

"My Lady, my name is Kynortas. Your mother said to let you know that it is time for tea back home. Your mother seems in good enough health. Your father was most anxious to find you. He seemed genuine enough when we asked him." Kynortas speaks after munching down some food and watching. Lady Rhea was distraught surely enough, but there was more here. Getting the information tonight however is another matter entirely.

"My Lord Duke and Marquess, I believe the Lady Rhea could use a good nights sleep. I know that I myself am.... fatigued. I have some armor to mend  and we have more questions than answers. Might I make the suggestion that we all retire for the night reconvene in the morning? I think we can address our next course of action tomorrow when we all have clearer heads."

All of this putting on airs annoyed Kynortas. It was a good thing he was trained in courtly manners during his basic training. His homeland had many rich folk who lived in largess and insisted on manners. To him it was a waste of time.

At the mention of 'time for tea' Lady Rhea bursts into tears, once again gasping out inaudible words and hastily stifled sobs of 'my mother'.

The Duke stands up and sweeps his arm toward the exit. Once you are all out he bows his head, "Friends, I thank you all for the work you have done. We will continue in the morning and hopefully she can be on her way home. If there is a way to contact Bart about her finding and returning I recommend it. Something is still amiss, but as you said, we all deserve a rest. I bid you goodnight and will see you all in the longhall bright and early. You may sleep there again." After saying his piece he walks off toward his room, sullen. His normally amiable nature and cheer are gone, replaced with a fatherly worry.

You may all take a long rest and heal, Fizzbang you can officially add those spells to your repertoire. 

Aracynth rose and bowed, before seeing himself outside the front of the longhall for some fresh air. He retrieves the (magicitem)Figurine of Wondrous Power(/magicitem) that Duke Oglethorn had given them and places it on the ground. "Lir Ve." 

A flash of light pierced the darkness as the magic figurine animated and a small silver raven stood patiently waiting. 

"Take this message straight to the Duke Oglethorn and nobody else. Salif. "Duke Oglethorn, we have found your daughter. She is in good health. We will return shortly. I hope you have been well. Respectfully, Aracynth." " 

As the silver raven took flight into the darkness, Aracynth hoped it would find Duke Oglethorn without issue. With the message sent, the Paladin returned inside, doffed his armor and equipment, and greatfully settled in to his nightly prayers before bed.

Once the royals and their entourage had left, Fizzbang exhaled. "Ooooook then! This bunch is as unsettling as a Displacer Beast on a Tuesday! What in the Nine-hells is wrong with that girl? Someone, or something, is up to no good. And I don't like it! Normally I'm the one who's up to no good! That's MY territory!" He gasped slightly, running out of air mid-tirade. He inhaled to set in again, but thought better of it. Maybe now was not the time. 

"It's certainly time for a drink, I can tell you that! We'll babysit the brat all the way back to the Duke and collect our reward! I'm not getting paid to go off crusading around and righting every wrong. Bring the girl home, check! Drink the Marquess' ale? Check! Definitely not want to get gored by a necromantic minotaur ever again? Double-check!"

As you all find places to bed down for the rest of the night, Tharin sinking into the corner slowly and succumbing to exhaustion to meditate, the Marquess picks up the tray of food and leaves the sleeping Lady Rhea in the bed. By the time he returns you have all fallen asleep comfortably and without incident... except in the semi-waking hours of the morning you are wracked with dreams again:

Kynortas:

 Aracynth:

 Fizzbang:

Harold knocks on the table, already in the room. "The Duke has breakfast for everyone, the townsfolk have been told to wait outside. The hall is yours for now. I hope you slept well." He turns and exits through the open door into the dining area where the smell of sausages, eggs, and boiled oats greet your noses. The Lady Rhea and Marquess Maverick are already up and they nod awkwardly to you all before exiting the room.

Aracynth awoke with cold start, his heart pounding, staring up into the exposed rafters overhead. They looked a ruddy pale color, tinged a raucous red in the dim light, until he managed to orient himself. 

The Guard Captain was leaving the room, followed swiftly by the Marquess and Lady Rhea. He nodded perfunctorily as they left, and rose quickly. The smell of the food left him slightly nauseated, but he stifled the feelings and grabbed a few sausages to force down, as he went to the edge of town to clean up for the day. The morning air under the rising sun did wonders to put his ease his nightmare.

He returned awhile later and donned his armor and equipment, inspecting the greatsword for any damage from their conflict with the skeletons, while he waited for the others.

Tharin opened his eyes and immediately looked for Rhea. Finding her, he retrieves his breakfast and follows her and the Marquess out the door. 

"Excuse me, my lady, my lord. I am under instructions to keep you safe until you are reunited with your parents. I understand your need for privacy, but I will be close by to make sure nothing happens to you both. I hope you understand."

Tharin then picks an out of the way corner and keeps an eye on the both of them.

Perception 19