Kiafra squats down and look at the organ with the bat branding.

"Curious. Unless one of you want to examine this strange piece of flesh, I am inclined to squash it", he proclaims as he stands and starts to tap his warhammer against his free hand.

He turns to Crowbeak as he is tapping the warhammer, "You mentioned us taking a warning to Follasach. Would our time not be better spent investigating the source of this corruption? I don't know about these other folks, but I would be happy to go to Corcairdhearg and see for myself what befell the town. Assuming the terms are agreeable, of course".

Vaalsh enters the house once more, walking up to Kiafra and trying not to step on anything that was once Comstock.

"That piece of flesh pulsating with magic. I'm not sure what kind. Let me have a look."

Concentrating and without touching the organ, the satyr tries to sense the type of magic at work here, as well as trying to remember if the symbol has any religious meaning. While doing that, she listens to what the others are saying and nods at Kiafras comment.

"There might be people who need help in Corcairdhearg. I don't know what the high-and-mighties of Follasach will or won't be able to help us with. We might be able to send a message to them, at least."

Vaalsh tries to remember if there are any easy ways for common people of getting a message across some distance, like a messenger service. Perhaps she has an inkling of the distances involved, both Stonpond to Corcairdhearg and Stonpond to Follasach?

Crowbeak nods in understanding, moving away from the remains and standing upright. "That's exactly the issue, I'm afraid. We don't know where it's coming from. The last I heard, Corcairdhearg is near the source of where it began to spread... or, at least, that's what Comstock told me before he passed." Sigh. "Follasach is along the way, but take any way you wish. But, please, give them at least a little bit of convincing to start caring about what happens down here. Tch, they call us the "sodom below". Isn't that funny?" It's pretty apparent how he feels about the town from his tone of voice. Irritated and overtly sarcastic...

Vaalsh, roll me both an Arcana check for the organ, and a History check to see what you recall.

Vaalsh clicks her tongue in annoyance at the Follasachian term for her home. It's clear she is of the same opinion as the elder.

"If it's along the way, we might as well... but I'm not getting my hopes up."

She tries to recall information: History: 9, Arcana: 18

Quote from VolcanoLair >>

"Curious. Unless one of you want to examine this strange piece of flesh, I am inclined to squash it"

"I think," began Fléche with a hint of sadness, "I have nothing against just being done with it." As Vaalsh entered, the bard turned to Kiafra and shrugged. "We have to admit though; If someone else examined it, we might find something out?"

Quote from TemmieChang >>

"That's exactly the issue, I'm afraid. We don't know where it's coming from. The last I heard, Corcairdhearg is near the source of where it began to spread... or, at least, that's what Comstock told me before he passed." Sigh. "Follasach is along the way, but take any way you wish. But, please, give them at least a little bit of convincing to start caring about what happens down here. Tch, they call us the "sodom below". Isn't that funny?"

"So... the snooty folk in Follasach first, on the chance they might help, then straight to Corcairdhearg to see what's going out? Sounds like a plan."

The bard was vaguely familiar with these places, as his kin had mentioned them more than once. Still, he'd never been to either city; and it sounded like they'd need to watch themselves even in the town without the mist.

Bryskin follows the conversation, then says abruptly, "Master Crowbeak, would you mind explaining to me who the nobility in Follasach are? Only I was a pirate and I had a lot of... influence... upon the nobility. Where their caring fails, a few veiled threats might work. Though I don't like to lie, the people you have been describing obviously deserve it."

"It seems our travel plans are mostly agreed then, but what of this corrupted flesh?", Kiafra asks, letting his warhammer hang over it so that gravity would take care of it were he to release his grasp.

"Am I the only one who would normally be recompensed for dealing with a threat such as this?", he inquires of the others. He glances at Crowbeak, "Perhaps some information would be an agreeable price, for my part that is?"

Launch, also examines the corrupt and squirming lump of flesh.  She removes some tools from her pack, specifically a set of blacksmith tongs and grips the wiggling mass.

She studies it.

Launch

Knowledge Arcana: 19

Knowledge History: 28

Speaking her mind to all around, Launch says, "Maybe we shouldn't destroy our only clue to this mystery."  "However, I can understand not wanting to expose ourselves further to infection, corruption, or contagion."  "May I propose another solution.  I can create an object called a Bag of Holding.  It could safely store the corrupt flesh in an extra dimensional space.  We could save it for investigation later, while being safely insulated from the evil in it." 

The bard stood back, waiting to see what the astral elf's examination resulted in.

Bryskin looks nervous at the idea of exposing the object to a extra dimensional space, but is willing to accept the idea if the wizard believes it’ll be safe. 

Kiafra harrumphs and steps away as the pulsing organ is taken from under his warhammer.

"Take it if you think it will be useful", he replies to Launch a little skeptically, not really knowing the skills of the others present yet. "How long does it take to create such a bag? I would like to get moving as soon as Crowbeak here has considered my proposal".

Launch and Vaalsh, you can tell that the magic encompassing the organ is that of a necrotic nature... and the type of symbol on the organ does not help either. Due to its deathly cold nature and necrotic energy... it can be deduced on what the bat symbol refers to.

Vaalsh, though you can't recall any specifics, you have a faint memory of someone picking up letters during the week and flying away with them. Their face and appearance escapes you mind... but they were able to fly.

Crowbeak nods to Bryskin and Fléche. "The Follasach noble family is pretty small, from what I remember. Listen, their city's ran by a "prophet" and his daughters. He's a phony, I say. He's never around, but he's got his eyes all over the city, so it'd be in your best interest to not speak a damn thing about him. Met a man and his family from Follasach who treated him like some kinda savior. Though, can't say I know anything about his brats. If they treat their prophet like a savior, they probably see his children as the same." 

Launch replies, "I could have the containment unit ready by the morning.  We probably should grab supplies and rest up before pursuing this quest."

She searches in the hut for a jar or other container with a lid to put the flesh in while working on the bag of holding.

Vaalsh informs the others about what she has learned about the organ, adding in Launchs direction: "I would prefer if we dispose of it, but if that magical space is safe, I'm fine with leaving the storage to you."

The satyr addresses Comstock: "So this phrophet is to be avoided. Will we not come into conflict with him or his daughters if we want to speak to the founders?"

Looking into the round, she continues:
"I would also like to speak to that witch that was able to construct these masks of ours. If she knows how to protect against the sickness, she might know about its origins too. If she isn't too far, we could make the trip today. I'll... uh... be back in a moment."

Vaalsh hurries back to the tavern to grab the rest of her gear that she left in the hurry before.

Bryskin watches as Vaalsh runs off to the tavern. He skulks out of the front door and scans the street. He's watching for any threats. If he sees none, he will follow the shadows, sneaking behind Vaalsh to warn her if danger is near. 

Perception: 15 

Stealth: 28

Kiafra frowns, "I am not certain spending the entire day resting and preparing is a good use of our time, although seeing this witch could prove useful".

"And Crowbeak, what say you about helping me with some information regarding an unrelated matter?", he asks the elder.

Vaalsh and Bryskin, the outside of the elder's home is far worse than it was before. It's dark, sun blotted out with red smoke and a light drizzle beginning to come down. The street is vacant... for the most part. Towards the entrance of the woods, Bryskin takes notice of a small, lithe figure hoist up a body and put it in a wheelbarrow before skipping into the woods with the cart.

Crowbeak tilts his head, sitting down in his chair and listening intently. "Of course. Speak, my child."

Kiafra wanders across to Crowbeak, sitting in front of the elder cross legged with his warhammer standing upright by his side.

"I am looking for someone. Well, not just one person in truth. I seek a family of halflings who would have lived here almost 20 years ago. I am afraid I know no more, other than there were three children, but one went missing. Again almost 20 years ago", he says quietly, a hopeful look on his face.