Skritch shuffles in front of her then straightens to stare up at her floating, ethereal form. 

"I know not how we might do it. But we," and here he scruffs Sunhill behind one ear, "we will, er, give it our all. I swear." 

And then Skritch bows. Super low.

Satisfied with your answers the shade turns to gaze upon Rachus and the Wizard. 

All around you the spirits of this temple have stopped in their wandering and have turned to watch. The air grows still and cold and you can see your breath steaming before you as you exhale. Rachus with detect magic still active you can see the build up of magical energy in the room though the balance now seems to be tipping more toward radiant than necrotic. 

I swear on every fiber of magic that is in me, my staff and my honor. I will persue the task till my last breath

Rachus looks solemn and says, "I swear to you that I will see this to the end" His thoughts are of his family should this darkness spread across the land. 

A flicker of a smile touches the spirit's lips, and she reaches down, her translucent fingers passing through the petals of the wreath you offer her Skritch. She lifts them from the cold stone of her tomb. She holds the blossoms to her breast, and a sense of peace seems to settle over the room.

Slowly, her form begins to thin and grow indistinct, the spectral light that defines her dimming as she drifts backward toward her final rest. Around the chamber, you see the other spirits, a silent, fading company, following her lead. They are retreating to their eternal slumber, a quiet tide receding from the shores of the living world.

At last, only the flowers remain, suspended in the air above the sarcophagus. They begin to shine with an inner light, a soft and holy radiance that swells until it is too bright to behold. The light breaks apart, shattering into five distinct motes that drift out from the tomb, each seeking its own master.

"Take my blessing with you," you hear the voice of Pelgara echo around the chamber, "...and call upon me in the moment of your greatest need."

As you each clutch the mote of light that hangs before you, you find a single white flower in your hand, blessed by the spirit.

OOC: Each of you can add the "holy flower" as a custom item to you inventory and in a time of need you can use it to "ask for help". You may choose the skill check (DC 15) and the check you choose will determine the nature of the response. After a single use the flower will crumble into dust.

At last the room grows quiet and the magical lights are extinguished.

"Well," Jemile speaks to you all at last sounding a little shaken, "...that was more eventful than I expected. It seems you know something of the troubles that have disturbed these spirits?"

Skritch uses Druidcraft to make a heroic flower belt with the blessed Holy Flower as the buckle. 

He is perfectly aware that this is structurally unsound, sartorially speaking. He knows the belt will fall apart should he ever use Pelgara's blessing. However, since he doesn't wear pants, he's not really fussed by his belt's in-built obsolescence.

Rachus takes the mote of light and is relieved to see balance restored within this resting place. He will then start walking back and looks to Jemile "Yes we heard about a dark demon but beyond that we are light on the details. It must be powerful to affect the dead here so." Then to his companions "It seems the next step is to head South from here and to see what we find." 

Thanadol nods silently. "Agreed, it must be stopped"

As they leave the restored mausoleum, Skritch brainasks Jemile, "That we might succeed in our holy quest, do you have anything that will help each of us? I'm thinking supplies, equipment, magic items, acorns?" 

Dealuri places the white flower in her backpack and continues to do her best to behave herself. She unconsciously rubs her left arm above the wrist where the black mark of Loki now resides, although it is covered with her robe sleeve. 

Vakas lowers his head, holding out his hands and taking the flower, nodding and smiling, an acknowledgment and a pact.  He stores the flower in a pouch at his side, then he turns to face Jemile.  "Yes, I suppose we have been warned that we might face such.  Now, it seems to be our destiny.  Perhaps, if we are finished here, we can head back to more .. comfortable.. environs to discuss."  He looks to the others, to see if they are ready to go.  

Skritch gives a furry thumbs up 👍!

Dealuri nods in agreement. 

Rachus leaves as well. 

Sunhill gets away from Skritch and, as they all leave, surprises Jemile by sneaking a lick of one of their hands.

Skritch thinks that's charming. "Look, kind Jemile, he likes you!"

It doesn't occur to Skritch to wonder whether Jemile is into it or not. Afterall, who could not be into Sunhill? Doesn't make sense.  

OOC: Apologies work has been crazy and I have neglected my D&D responsibilities :) Let's get back into it!

Skritch you make your request of Jemile as you all make your way back through the catacombs toward the upper temple. "You have certainly earned our aid." Jemile replies, "speaking of which..." they pluck a small pouch from their belt and hand it down to you, "Twenty gold as promised. We will discuss what other aid might be given with the High Seer. He will have returned by now I suspect.

Jemile smiles down at Sunhill and pats his head.

All too soon you all find yourselves standing in the cool air of the main temple hall. You notice a change in the atmosphere up here, there is a definite sense of urgency in the movement of the acolytes up here and Jemile is suddenly inundated with worried initiates needing help with urgent tasks.

"Please excuse me," they apologise, "The High Seer has returned and there is much to be done."

Not a moment has passed before your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar bark of Olak, "There you all are! Here I am making arrangements for you to see the High Seer and you are all off sight seeing in the catacombs. Dratted rude if you ask me, but nobody does. Oh no!"