Morgan struggles to hide his disappointment. He knows it isn't worth taking unnecessary risks... and the others are still annoyed about his little cave adventure.
But two skeletons cleaning their own graves...

He sighs.
"Let's stay away from them," he mutters, sulking. "There could be hundreds more behind them... even if they only look like two... skeletons... doing gardening."

He lifts his hat and sends his bat-familiar fluttering upward for a quick aerial sweep, checking the tombs for any recognizable symbols, and scanning for the far less pleasant possibility of a hidden skeletal horde waiting out of sight. The bat will try to stay away from obvious danger.

(Bat's stealth: 16, perception: 3) 
(I accidentally used saves instead of modifiers... but the values are the same.)

That’s a strange sight, Sacha thinks when they see the skeletons, but they’ve seen stranger. At least they don’t seem to be hostile. She agrees that it’s best to leave them to the dead to their business. 

With death on the mind, Sacha remembers hearing bits and pieces about Dermot’s strange faith earlier in their travels. 

“Wiseman Dermot,” Sacha inquires, “I’ve heard your people don’t care for the afterlife? What do you say happens when you die?”

Morgan’s bat does a fine sweep of the area, but a falcon does a dive at the defenseless and possibly tasty familiar. Razor sharp claws extended, the familiar is surely going to lose its physical form when it collides with the falcon, but Morgan is a shade faster and winks the familiar back to its pocket dimension. It unfortunately could see nothing but its looming temporary death. Thanks to the quick actions of Morgan, it avoided the pain of being skewered by a predator’s hungry claws.

Dermot’s ears perk at his name being called and he fidgets with the holy symbol hanging from his neck. “Well, it’s not really that we don’t care for the afterlife. It’s more like we believe in cycles of rebirth. Rebirth is necessary. Through the cycles of rebirth, we might become Umavi. Hmmm, a perfect soul, really. When we do, we become worthy of meeting the Luxon. The afterlife is our ultimate destination. We just have to experience a lot of stuff first to get there.” He pauses to regard the working skeletons.

“Once we do finally pass to the afterlife, who knows? There are many texts that cover theory, but no one has met the Luxon and come back, you know? The gods ultimately control what happens to their followers though. So your experience will be different. Read one account from a famous champion of the Everlight that said all her followers are little glass beads on a heavenly beach. Sitting on a beach forever doesn’t sound so bad, you know?” He looks up at Sacha, then he looks back to the gardening skeletons. “But, to each their own, heh.”

Irvan watches Dermot with bored eyes. The same as one might give to a child describing a fact, but only one shared at a superficial level. Galsariad nods.

“Our faith is science-based however. The entire faith is inferred based on observable, and therefore testable, truths. The scientific and metaphysical study of the Luxon is a highly respected field in the Kryn Dynasty; only the best and brightest are able to study its secrets.”

Dermot shrugs. “They also let nobodies in the boonies spread the good word.”

“Well, the Luxon granted you power for reasons we cannot explain.” Galsariad counters with a superior tone. “Even though you are not a scholar, it is clear that the Luxon favors you for some purpose.” After a brief pause, Galsariad adds, “Wiseman Dermot.”

“Multiple lives would allow me to slay more wicked. Perhaps one day I will hear more of your faith, Dermot.” Entropy adds before patting Hee on the rump to get the two mules going again. “We have a mission. If we are done with those two, let’s return to it.”

Morgan watches in horror as the falcon dives toward his tiny new bat familiar.

When the bat finally scrambles back into Morgan's hat, trembling, Morgan gently drops a tiny fruit inside.

"There you go, champ. A little comfort snack. Try not to die yet... I haven't even named you."

Quote from Erik_Soong >>

Irvan watches Dermot with bored eyes. The same as one might give to a child describing a fact, but only one shared at a superficial level. Galsariad nods.

“Our faith is science-based however. The entire faith is inferred based on observable, and therefore testable, truths. The scientific and metaphysical study of the Luxon is a highly respected field in the Kryn Dynasty; only the best and brightest are able to study its secrets.”

Dermot shrugs. “They also let nobodies in the boonies spread the good word.”

“Well, the Luxon granted you power for reasons we cannot explain.” Galsariad counters with a superior tone. “Even though you are not a scholar, it is clear that the Luxon favors you for some purpose.” After a brief pause, Galsariad adds, “Wiseman Dermot.”

“Multiple lives would allow me to slay more wicked. Perhaps one day I will hear more of your faith, Dermot.” Entropy adds before patting Hee on the rump to get the two mules going again. “We have a mission. If we are done with those two, let’s return to it.”

Frekor tried to not pay attention to all the praises to Luxon, but Entropy's comment made him speak his mind.

-Having multiple lives is not as fun as you would think.- said in a serius tone while looking to the road. Realizing that he spoked out loud, he looked at the goup and added -well, that's what I think. I mean, imaging going through puberty more than once, right?- said with a chuckle.

"Or coming back as bunny girl. 3 feet for life!"

" Anyone have any idea how much further it is?", Jacaranda queried.

She had listened to the religious talk with some interest but she was comfortable in her own beliefs, she grinned at Ylis, " Gods forbid you were bigger.....I'm not sure the world could handle it."

She moved to the front looking for any sign of civilisation in the distance as they moved on.

Perception- 24

OOC: I think it's half a day away at this point. How much/when we can see depends on what the city looks like.

DM: Wysp has a fantastic DM clock; it is about a day from this point before you reach Bazzoxan now. 

Randa shades her eyes with her hand and squints into the distance. Never having been to Bazzoxan before, Randa isn't exactly sure what to look for, but she follows the road which travels in a roughly straight line, twisting around the odd large stone spire. She doesn't see the city, but she does notice that the Barbed Fields have a light screen that hangs over it. It is so light, that one wouldn't notice it up close but it becomes noticeable when trying to see over the open distance of the Fields. 

It is concentrated straight ahead, up against the mountains at about a day's journey, she notices that the the rust-colored haze is most concentrated. It obscures the base of the mountain at this distance. It is likely their destination, all things considered. 

The skeletons off the road embrace each other, then the taller one helps the shorter one into the hole where the larger had been tending. After lowering the shorter one into the hole, the taller one begins to bury it, scooping the dirt over it and tapping it lightly once finished. Then it moves to the area the shorter one had been tending and lowers itself into the hole there, stopping to gaze with empty sockets at the party when it is just a head above the dirt. Then, it scoops a heaping pile of dirt over its head and is gone. 

Skeletons burying themselves, *exaggerated shiver* that is creepy as heck. Ylis hopes that when she passes she either goes straight to Arboria or if she must come back, be at least 4 feet tall.

"The Colonel, unwilling to let this challenge to the pride of Drassig
Soldiery pass unanswered, called over his assistant. "Major," he seethed,
"send up the Regiment's champion. I want this Elf's head!"

And so the Champion went forth. Up the hill he strode, confidence
in every step, to do battle with this Challenger. The Challenger
roared his mirth and stepped over the crest, out of site; the Champion
followed. Soon the sounds of battle rolled over the hill and the
Regiment waited. And then, THUMP Thump thump.... A head! Rolling down
the hill came a head. And then, from the hilltop, came the rumble of
the Challenger's laughter. "I am Staghelm of the Meadow! Again I challenge
you! Send up your best Squad!"

The bunny can't see very far but she hopes the journey is near ending without more creepy stuff going on. She has had enough dead demons, live demons, jackhole demons, flying demons...all of that stuff. She just wants to get to the city so she doesn't have to deal with any more demons. And she wants to learn how to get stuff clean. There is still a dark spot on the wagon that bothers her.

Jacaranda narrows here eyes at the haze, but concludes it is probably something to do with the besieging fiends......which they will likely encounter before reaching it..........

" Alright, doesn't seem like our destination is too far away.   If you've protections against Fiends or the like in your repertoire perhaps have them ready to deploy......we may well meet some before we arrive."

Morgan smiles.
"Well... **** it."

He hops off the cart, scoops up a handful of dry earth, and splashes a bit of his own water onto it (more enthusiasm than technique).

Clambering back aboard, he marches straight to Brother Bombur, holding the muddy clump like it's a sacred relic.
"Can you bless this ground?"

Then he jogs over to Ylis and Sacha.
"Hey... could you try to coax a couple flowers out of this? Even tiny-tiny ones? Pretty please?"

Whatever happens (a holy glow, stubborn dirt, or the world's saddest sprout), Morgan quietly places the damp, blessed earth (flowers or not) along the tombs.

He wipes his hands on his pants, tips his hat, climbs back onto the cart, and settles in without another word.

(OOC: at least that's Morgan's intention... hoping nothing terribly wrong happens)

Ylis hands over a seed and shrugs. The soil needs to be enriched to overcome all of the poisons in it but worth a try she guesses. 

Morgan gathers all his ingredients for what would normally coax life out of its stubborn slumber here. Unfortunately, the Wastes are normally inhospitable for most life and the Barbed Fields are even more so. The minor druidic magic from Randa and Sacha (Ylis doesn't know Druidcraft. Some druid she is!) succeed in getting a tiny sprout to form, but it immediately wilts once the cantrip stops pumping magic directly into it. The soil here is particularly irradiated with the war magic of the gods. 

Pulling the dead plant out and hoping the others will still grow, Morgan plants his efforts by the tombstones. The stones are old. Ancient even, with designs that have long since faded. Now that Morgan is up close however, he sees names written on each tombstone, which has been etched fresh. It reads:

"Here lies Empress Emberheart, Champion of the Wild Mother and Swift Judgement to the Betrayer Gods. Fell on this spot avenging her lover and knight, Bohareth. In love. Forever."

"Here lies Bohareth, Champion of the Erathis and Bane of the Betrayer Gods. Fell on this spot protecting his empress. In love. Forever."

Morgan has nothing to lead him to believe that his efforts will result in new life here, he only has hope, and there have been far less available to some that have stubbornly refused to die and thrived instead. 

Morgan repeats the names and the inscription he read to the others, hoping someone more educated than him can make sense of them. Good or evil, champions or killers, he doesn't really care. He just feels lucky to have witnessed something like this. For him, his pointless hope was the best gift he could offer to that strange, stubborn display of undying love. And that's enough.

Satisfied, he lies down in the back of the cart, hat over his face. After a few miles, he lifts the brim and lets his familiar fly free, if it wants to hunt a few mosquitoes or check the road ahead. But still traumatized by the close encounter with the falcon, the tiny bat refuses, and instead curls up to sleep right on Morgan's face.

'Fair enough,' thinks Morgan with a tired smile and resumes dozing.

Ylis hears about the hawk and wonders where Luna went. She probably got lost again...then she hears a peep from under the seat.

"I told you to look for Randa,..."

*peep*

"What do you mean you did, you're still in the wagon!"

*peep*

"You looked for Randa in the wagon?"

*peep*

"And you just stayed here because she came back?"

*peep*

*sigh*

The party continues on, leaving behind the historic couple. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on your philosophical bent, there isn't much to delight the senses on this leg of the journey, and the rest of the day is entirely without issue. Lazy, idle chatter fills the air as Ayo tries to coax her team back into their more generally upbeat selves. More perceptive members of the Fellowship can see that she is struggling with self-doubt since Bert and Ernie and may be compensating some.

Dermot takes over driving the mules while Ayo stretches her legs until the two teams make camp that evening. Ayo shares some of her hunting experiences while providing for her family back home growing up. 

"I've been as far as Urzin, to the west. You guys may have passed through it on your way to Jigow. It's the only place between Jigow and the Dwendalian Empire."

DM: In fact, the party did not encounter a place called Urzin on their way to Jigow. Odd.

"It is hard to hunt in the marshes and swamps there. Mostly because there aren't a lot of things big enough to feed a family. Except for alligators there and boy..." she chuckles. "You definitely do not want to get caught in one of their death rolls. I once saw a tiefling woman get caught in the jaws of one and it rolled her over in the water furiously. Luckily her friends were there to save her. It was going to be my kill but since they went through the trouble of being bit for it, I thought I would just let them have it."

"See Rumble, that's good story."

"Ayo, I think we may have bypassed Urzin on the way to Jigow. If it's in a swamp maybe we went around...?"

Ylis nods while keeping her bonfire going so people can warm themselves against the desert chill and heat rocks for later in the night. She uses a mess tin to heat warm blueberry tea for everybody to supplement the tack and jerky.

Before she goes to sleep she prays to the Moonweaver, "Hey it's Ylis, thanks and all that for lighting our way. Thanks for the blessings and I hope you have a great night!"

Jacaranda watched Ayo with some concern but she did not approach, better to give her time to work things through herself.  She remained at the front of the small caravan her eyes on where she suspected the city to be, at least Ylis seemed none the worse for wear.....Sacha was quiet but her northern cousin often was. She looked back at the boys, the cleric was as stoic as ever but she was a little worried about Morgan and Frekor after recent events.....perhaps they would help each other through....

Sighing she scanned the sky for danger and kept on walking.....