“Well, I...I...I uh, smelled it of course, pretty much right away, as soon as the door was open. I been to funerals and embalmings, but I never smelled anything like that. Maybe I should have gone and called somebody just then, but I went in anyway. Smell was everywhere, but place looked like...usual I guess. Found...uh...what was left of Tural... at the end of the Hall of the Awakened. He was...on the floor. Blood everywhere. Even, uh, on the ceiling. Tore up...I don’t know how to describe it. Um. The lamps had been knocked over, and...I mean, I only recognized him because of what was left of his robe. I ran and got Father Mirko, and he called for the guard.”
Balasar nods encouragingly. Did you hear anything, either when you found the door unlocked or after you had entered?
Wendell thinks back to life on the farm and tries to remember how quickly fresh meat will spoil if left out after slaughter. (Survival+4 added) 9
Wendell's pretty sure that meat left out after 2-3 hours would be unsafe to eat, and could hazard a guess that it would not smell pleasant after 6-9 hours.
“Well, I...I...I uh, smelled it of course, pretty much right away, as soon as the door was open. I been to funerals and embalmings, but I never smelled anything like that. Maybe I should have gone and called somebody just then, but I went in anyway. Smell was everywhere, but place looked like...usual I guess. Found...uh...what was left of Tural... at the end of the Hall of the Awakened. He was...on the floor. Blood everywhere. Even, uh, on the ceiling. Tore up...I don’t know how to describe it. Um. The lamps had been knocked over, and...I mean, I only recognized him because of what was left of his robe. I ran and got Father Mirko, and he called for the guard.”
Balasar nods encouragingly. Did you hear anything, either when you found the door unlocked or after you had entered?
"Hear anything? I...no...I mean, well, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual, ah...well." Brother Barto fidgets a bit. "You do hear things down there, but it's just you know, creaks and rustles. Uh. Bones...settling...that sort of thing. We...we joke about the rats in the walls. You get rats, of course. Just, part of the business. But..." he stops, and shakes his head. "No rats. There weren't any rats. Why weren't there any rats?" He brings his hand to his mouth, obviously wrestling with confusion and disgust.
"Hear anything? I...no...I mean, well, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual, ah...well." Brother Barto fidgets a bit. "You do hear things down there, but it's just you know, creaks and rustles. Uh. Bones...settling...that sort of thing. We...we joke about the rats in the walls. You get rats, of course. Just, part of the business. But..." he stops, and shakes his head. "No rats. There weren't any rats. Why weren't there any rats?" He brings his hand to his mouth, obviously wrestling with confusion and disgust.
What about the smell? Can you think of any way to describe it?
"Hear anything? I...no...I mean, well, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual, ah...well." Brother Barto fidgets a bit. "You do hear things down there, but it's just you know, creaks and rustles. Uh. Bones...settling...that sort of thing. We...we joke about the rats in the walls. You get rats, of course. Just, part of the business. But..." he stops, and shakes his head. "No rats. There weren't any rats. Why weren't there any rats?" He brings his hand to his mouth, obviously wrestling with confusion and disgust.
What about the smell? Can you think of any way to describe it?
"I...dried blood," he swallows, "uh...rotting meat. I grew up in the slums, I know that smell. And...something like wet dog? That's the only way I know how to describe it. Wet dog, but a hundred times worse."
"Oh, and..." he thinks for a bit. "The way a wound smells. When it goes bad. The Temple has a hospital, I've worked there. The smell of infected flesh, when it's gone green, and..."
"Oh, and..." he thinks for a bit. "The way a wounds smells. When it goes bad. The Temple has a hospital, I've worked there. The smell of infected flesh, when it's gone green, and..."
He goes a bit green himself, and can't go on.
Balasar lays a reassuring hand on Barto's shoulder. I apologize again for making you relive such an experience. I hope that you will soon find peace.Turning to the others, he apologizes for monopolizing the conversation, and asks if any of the others have questions they would like to ask.
Gong reflects for a moment before speaking. "The threats that a man faces do not always come from the outside world. Corruption can strike from within - and it may be the same with these catacombs," he rumbles in his deep voice. "I fear that one of the undead - some kind of ghoul - may have made its way in here. Hiding among the corpses and waiting for a timely meal."
Wendell nods, "The seems a reasonable guess to me. Unfortunately, I'm not certain the priests will be able to offer much more in the way of assistance. Should we head to the catacombs to investigate?"
Wendell hesitates, "It might, but from the sound of things there might not be much left to examine, and rot would have set in pretty heavily by now. Are any of you familiar enough with injuries to discern something useful from a days old corpse?"
Elaric grimaces with memories of magical accidents he has witnessed at the Arcane University. "I will likely be of help only if the injuries are of an arcane nature."
Wendell thinks back to life on the farm and tries to remember how quickly fresh meat will spoil if left out after slaughter. (Survival+4 added) 17
Balasar nods encouragingly. Did you hear anything, either when you found the door unlocked or after you had entered?
Wendell's pretty sure that meat left out after 2-3 hours would be unsafe to eat, and could hazard a guess that it would not smell pleasant after 6-9 hours.
"Hear anything? I...no...I mean, well, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual, ah...well." Brother Barto fidgets a bit. "You do hear things down there, but it's just you know, creaks and rustles. Uh. Bones...settling...that sort of thing. We...we joke about the rats in the walls. You get rats, of course. Just, part of the business. But..." he stops, and shakes his head. "No rats. There weren't any rats. Why weren't there any rats?" He brings his hand to his mouth, obviously wrestling with confusion and disgust.
What about the smell? Can you think of any way to describe it?
"I...dried blood," he swallows, "uh...rotting meat. I grew up in the slums, I know that smell. And...something like wet dog? That's the only way I know how to describe it. Wet dog, but a hundred times worse."
"Oh, and..." he thinks for a bit. "The way a wound smells. When it goes bad. The Temple has a hospital, I've worked there. The smell of infected flesh, when it's gone green, and..."
He goes a bit green himself, and can't go on.
Balasar lays a reassuring hand on Barto's shoulder. I apologize again for making you relive such an experience. I hope that you will soon find peace. Turning to the others, he apologizes for monopolizing the conversation, and asks if any of the others have questions they would like to ask.
Gong: "Nothing for now. I have an idea, but I don't want to alarm these men."
Wendell shakes his head, "I'm satisfied for the moment, and curious as to what Gong has in mind."
Brother Barto takes his leave, giving the party the room to themselves.
Turning to Gong, Wendell asks, "What are your thoughts?"
Elaric eyes Gong curiously, wondering the same thing.
Gong reflects for a moment before speaking. "The threats that a man faces do not always come from the outside world. Corruption can strike from within - and it may be the same with these catacombs," he rumbles in his deep voice. "I fear that one of the undead - some kind of ghoul - may have made its way in here. Hiding among the corpses and waiting for a timely meal."
Wendell nods, "The seems a reasonable guess to me. Unfortunately, I'm not certain the priests will be able to offer much more in the way of assistance. Should we head to the catacombs to investigate?"
Do you think that examining the body is likely to reveal any useful information?
Skoth nods "It may be worth checking the body on the off chance it holds a secret."
Wendell hesitates, "It might, but from the sound of things there might not be much left to examine, and rot would have set in pretty heavily by now. Are any of you familiar enough with injuries to discern something useful from a days old corpse?"
Elaric grimaces with memories of magical accidents he has witnessed at the Arcane University. "I will likely be of help only if the injuries are of an arcane nature."
Confirming whether the injuries are, in fact, arcane might prove useful. I suggest we examine the remains before entering the catacombs.