“Good evening sir.  Claire Arrensfeld is the name, a traveling Cleric passing through, as you’ve guessed.  I was camping nearby and heard some screaming so I came to check it out.  Probably was that poor woman there, I imagine.”  Claire keeps the holy symbol at the ready.  “You’ll have to pardon my wariness, often when you hear undead talk of hunts, it’s bad news for the living, but seeing as you haven’t attacked yet I figured I’d let you offer an explanation.”

Ah yes, I imagine this is an unsettling sight for a mortal, he gestures to the multitude of dead bodies in the camp. I can assure you these folk were not kind folk, Poachers and bandits all. One of our subjects had regrettably lost his way and joined up. We came to attempt to make him reconsider and return home, his new companions of course were not keen to talk to us nor us them. Thus violence and screaming. 

"I'm no stranger to their kind anymore..." Claire says, more to herself than to the undead, but then she shakes her head.  "I believe you in that regard, but when it comes to the making of human flesh into 'good leather?'  Is that a common habit of yours?  I suppose it's just more gross than evil, so I've certainly got more important things to worry about..."  Claire looks to the human boy.  "And you.  You're okay going with them?"

As she waits for the boy to respond, Claire takes a moment to try to reflect on her mission, and the divine power inside of her.  Are these folks 'evil' by her standards?  What are her standards?  What does the light within guide her to do?

Religion: 4

(Roll was a 4 before it changed for no reason)

You search within yourself but find little guidance from within. The memory of Rollo is still fresh in your mind but these don't quite compare so closely to Rollo or the vampire that turned him. Without any holy guidance, you're left to your own judgement. Not just leather. Tools and weapons can be made from bone. Its not good to let materials go to waste you know. It's disrespectful to the dead.

Sir Gilroy has always liked to make things from whatever we hunt you see Ms. Arrensfeld. He means no harm by it though I understand it may be upsetting to you. I'm afraid time has made my companions careless with their words.

My lady please, these creatures our my Lords, they run the village I've grown up on, have for I dont know how long. I can't go back with them, the place is horrid. 

Young Caleb here was attempting to flee the village because of his own fears, with little regard for how thats affected his family and the village itself. When his mother found out he ran away she begged us to find him and bring him home. I'd have been willing to entertain his reason for leaving, but when I found him working with bandits, well you are lucky we found you and not someone else. Few tolerate bandits and fewer show mercy to them. 

I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go.

Go home to your family. They need you there.

He shakes his head violently. Ma'am I can't, I'll never be able to leave if I stay.

Insight: 12

Claire scratches her head.  "These gentlemen don't seem so bad, Mr. Caleb.  Unless you've got a particularly good reason for me, I don't see why I should risk my life so you can run away from home.  And if it's that bad where you come from you definitely shouldn't be leaving your mother behind," Claire explains.  She then waits another few moments to see if Caleb can drop some plot twist that would make an altercation worth her and her party's time.  She will also attempt to tell if the undead gentlemen are being completely honest or if they may have poor intentions for Caleb.  How genuine does Caleb's desperation seem?

Roderick seems to be being upfront though perhaps not entirely forthcoming with all the information. Gilroy also seems to be genuine about his love of crafting and hating waste. The third you've heard called Hubert doesn't seem to be interested in talking to you, but he does watch you warily. Caleb seems less afraid per se but rather disgusted but his desperation is real.

My mother can't leave, she's dead. She died years ago when she got sick! They brought her back! The whole town is like that, no one ever stays dead. I can't stay there, I can't keep living among the dead.

The boy speaks to much Roderick. She is a stranger, and a holy woman at that. She is a danger to all of us, we should kill her now while we out number her.

Sir Hubert she has done us no harm nor does she trespass on our land. There is no reason for us to do such a thing. Yes, we raise those who die within our territory, so they might continue to live out their lives with their loved ones. There are many who wish for that second chance, we are in a unique position to supply it. If I'm honest it is not quite so simple as that but Lord Hubert is correct, I cannot go into more detail with a stranger, especially not one who could prove a danger to our way of life. We have no quarrel with you Madam, but we cannot let Caleb leave no matter how much he wishes to. 

Claire nods.  "I have no quarrel with you either, and appreciate your courtesy thus far," she says, eyeing Hubert.  "I'm afraid this whole thing is in fact, none of my business.  Caleb, I wish you luck, but you will have to find your own way.  At the risk of overstaying my welcome, uh... here..." she says, pausing as she looks around at the bandit corpses.  "I do, for my own interests and duties, have to ask you if you've had any run-ins with the giants in your territory, and if you might have any information regarding their movements.  They are the previously mentioned 'more important things' I have to worry about."  Claire explains.  "And then I'll be on my way," she adds quickly.

Around this time Spaz arrives back within range of Narz and is able to telepathically communicate what he and Claire had first seen before the Tressym was sent off.

Giants? We hunted one just a last week did we not?

Oh yes we did. Poor quality hide on that one unfortunately. I'm still wondering what to do with it. The bones are too big for practical purposes but maybe something decorative.

Yes we did. It was trespassing on our lands so we hunted it down. Tough beast for sure but the most rewarding game often is. Why, are you looking for a giant? If you need to speak with them perhaps something could be arranged.

Claire puts her hand up to her chin… “You took one alive then?  Yes I would like to speak with it if possible, but I’ll need to coordinate with my two companions back at my camp.  They are the ones more knowledgeable in interrogation techniques.  As for why… giants have been invading the area and causing trouble for a while now. I’m surprised they haven’t cause you more trouble honestly. Um, if you would like to designate a spot to meet tomorrow morning to make further arrangements, I think that would be ideal.  I leave it you to decide whether to allow us an audience with the giant or not, we won’t press you if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

Alive? Oh no my dear, it is most certainly dead. However its body is still very well intact while Sir Gilroy decides what to do with it. Until then we should still be able to communicate with its soul to some extent. Of course it may not be so inclined to speak. Still if you are interested, you can meet us at our hunting lodge.

Now wait just a moment. Letting her go is one thing but inviting a holy woman to the lodge is another matter entirely. I cannot stand idly by while you risk our very home. We're all equal members of the lodge and you do not speak for all of us Gerrit. I call for a vote!

Gerrit sighs but acquiesces. Fine, we shall hold a meeting and vote on the matter tomorrow night. Its far too close to sunrise and we must return. Still you cannot deny the right of Hospitality Hubert. Her and her friends can stay in the village Inn. During the day they will not threaten any of the residents.

Fine, I'll agree to those terms. But when the vote is over and goes my way, they are to be turned out to the woods immediately. From there they are not guests but game. Huber glares at you hatefully and smirks at the thought of the hunt.

Don't be so sure you'll get your way Sir Hubert. Regardless, my lady, if you and your companions wish to speak to this giant you need only head south through the woods. Look for game trail and follow it south deeper into the wood. You'll find the village in the shadow of our lodge. There are still residents among the living who should be able to greet you in the morning. If there's nothing further my companions and I must head back. It's a few hours ride and we need to return before the sunrise.

Claire curtsies to Gerrit.  "I look forward to our next meeting, and hope it remains as peaceful as this one."  Then she meets Hubert's glare.  "And if things go your way, I'm afraid I won't have to time to entertain your 'hunt.'  Our mission doesn't allow much extra time for nonsense.  However if you're insistent on a fight, I suppose we'd have to humor you for as long as it takes to kill you."

Hubert continues to glare while Gerrit nods. Gentlemen, let us head back for home. 

From atop their horses they chant a spell and the dead they cannot carry rise as zombies and begin to follow the trio.

Can't let all this material go to waste. Come along girls! The hounds run to their masters sides and soon the undead procession and their living "captive" head south through the woods leaving you alone in a now empty and destroyed campsite.

Claire lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and relaxes the arm that had held her holy symbol.  “Could have gone worse,” she mutters to herself, and then behind heading back towards Narz and Torsus.

(OOC: I presume between the travel there and conversation that far more than a minute passed since she left at least Narz in his bubble. So with that in mind..)

As Claire is turning to depart the hoot of an owl might draw at least a moment's attention to it from her. If it had, she'd see it watch her intently, potentially marking it as one of the several familiars the hobgoblin promised to send out to scout the area just in case Spaz assistance alone had not been enough. Just when it arrived could be anyone's guess. But once it had her attention for a long enough moment, it flies off on near silent wings to track the procession of undead from afar up until they returned to their town or the shared link began to fizzle from approaching the mile mark. 

In the latter instance, it was to return back to Narz. But in the former case, it was to continue monitoring from the edge of the forest. If/When Claire (and Torsus) return to camp, Vigo is sitting outside the dome and at full attention with Spaz cleaning his paws at his side. The tressym's eyes though appear to light up a bit seeing Claire return safely, and happily pads about her legs back inside the dome. It's there she can see the hobgoblin sitting there absently drawing in the dirt with a stick while muttering to himself. "I ain't catch everything, but I got the gist of what's going on. And this feels like one of'em distractions that'll -- at best -- cost us another couple days travel but earn us maybe an ally when passing through here... But at worse, assuming dem dead heads got some real skill or magic to'em, likely our lives or a host of other troubles." He admits frankly, and only after which looks up to the returnees. 

"Still sorting my thoughts out on the 'type of dead heads' ya met, but... they ain't no vampire at least. But what'ch'all really think of'em?" Before Torsus can begin the whole mind linking thing, Narz gives him a pointed look. "Aloud, preferably. No sounds getting past this dome anyhow. Same for at least some divination magic, so need to be overcautious here." 

Torsus had never left as by the time the player was able to see, claire and the DM were 9 posts in and as he had no clue where claire had gone once the shouting stopped he'd returned to camp with a shrug, not willing to waste a precious spell slot just to fly and seek. He'd been pacing though, as he wasn't fond of waiting for news himself, and if the floor had been made of wood it would be well worn. It wasn't out of concern for Claire but impatience. He knew she could handle herself in a fight and she was the only one of the group who could healt herself if needed.

Regardless Torsus looks at Narz with a struck, critical expression as he brings up the mind link, before crossing his arms to look at him pointedly, atleast breifly interrupting anything Claire might have to say... Now listen here Narz... I took you for one who posessed more intelligence .. or atleast wisdom than this. I fully understand you dislike the mind link. But what purpose would it serve here? he said gesturing towards the general area. After your first few refusals, I only began to use it in situations (with you atleast..) that it was absolutely required! Like our meeting with the Zhent woman. It was the only way to have that conversation without her overhearing every bit of it. My goodness.... he says, shaking his head in disbelief before looking to Claire and gesturing for her to say her piece clearly disappointed in the wizard.

While waiting for Claire to add her personal opinion on what to do Narz looses his connection with the owl as the undead begin to leave the range. The owl returns as instructed, noting that they continued almost directly south into the woods.

Narz stares back at the tortle flatly. "Before you decide to berate or insult someone, 'subtly' or not, -perhaps- you might consider that I was being considerate of your limited knowledge into the arcane beyond your particular... discipline in such arts." He said before clair spoke up, then sighed and rubbed a bit at his forehead. "And given the nature of your patrons, I thought it unlikely they would've shared much knowledge beyond their particular disciplines and wants of you. Which thus far through your release of them haven't exactly expressed a greater expanse of utility. Nevermind your own admitted failings to acquire and retain and utilize knowledge on either arcane, divine, or primal practices without such dealings to keep things in order... or am I wrong?" Narz cocked his head slightly to the side at the question before righting it with a shake of his head.

"If I'm mistaken, then I s'pose I owe ya an apology to some degree. As I cannot recall ever going into the full details of this here particular dome magic beyond it restricting access and providing a comfortable atmosphere. Nor did I want to wholly underestimate your sense of caution where it comes to intelligent undead."  

Torsus crosses his arms, returning the flat stare. Yet you spoke the obvious! he says with a sigh. I truly am not trying to be insulting, but my own point was I only speak with you mind to mind when i feel its necessary. And one could assume the features of this hut you have, the sounds fro moutside are dulled as though we are within a structure so I would also assume it to be otherwise in the reverse. I truly am sorry for being rude but While I may be forgetful, I am not dumb.

he shakes his head, then raising his brows in exasperation. As for what my patrons give me it isn't knowledge. it is raw power, and the knowledge of how to use each specific one. No more and no less. Likely their way of punishing me for blockign them from mine own mind, lest they drive me insane. My power is more akin to a sorcerer in that regard. More like a natural talent that I could not explain to you, rather than the learned knowledge of a wizard whom memorizes each spell.  Or atleast that is how I understand the difference to be.

One last venting before I let this matter drop. he says before looking to narz Your insistance on this whole 'dont mind speak to me' business is rather infuriating. I truly don't understand your hesitance. It's not as if my patrons could control you through me. On top of which, they would have to force me to submit first, in which case you'd be aware. And if that ever comes to pass, take this ring from my finger and shield thyself with it. And as for my repetior of spells, you have only seen what I have shown you. And I have only used what I deemed nessecary for the task.

with that the tortle deflated, sighing heavily As for my opinion on the 'dead heads' Its really none of our business. And they seem to keep to themselves. I would say we press on, unless you wish to comfirm with your pets the truth of it.

Claire lets Torsus and Narz bicker for a moment before stepping in at Torsus' suggestion of pressing on.  "The only thing that interests me is that they themselves have been trespassed upon by giants, and have the corpse of one readily available, and the means through which to allow us to speak with its spirit.  We may be able to gather further intel on the giants, as well as earn ourselves a potential ally in the region.  Of course, some of them didn't seem to keen on outsiders regardless of our disposition towards them, so engaging with them further may result in a squabble, but personally I doubt it."  Claire sits back.  "Honestly it just comes down to whether you think access to this giant's information is worth the time.  Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to ask what kind of giant it was; not the leader but one of his men was getting quite antsy towards the end of our conversation, but I suppose we could ask them tomorrow morning what type the giant was, and if it was a hill we continue on, and if it was something a little smarter, maybe consider interrogating its spirit a little more seriously."

"As for your bickering," she looks to Narz.  "Torsus has, since you asked him, refrained from using his mind speak outside of the one situation with the Zhentarim, which he judged, I don't think wrongly, that the importance of the situation required it.  Being a rare occurrence, I don't think your dislike of his mind-speak needs restating, though I do understand your aversion to it.  That being said," Claire pivots conversationally and physically to regard Torsus.  "You don't need to take every hint of critique as an excuse to be an arse in return.  Narz has every right to demand mental privacy and while he may seem oversee... over... overshell... over...zzealous, mhm... overzealous in his protest of it, neither should it surprise or shock you when he brings it up, and it certainly doesn't call for you to insult his intelligence."  Claire huffs, tired.  "I feel like I'm mediating between Gil and Threfle again... takes me back..."

Narz quirked a brow and gave Torsus a more dry look at the 'I'm not dumb' remark. But rather than interupt and explain the faulty logic in presuming the extent of his spell, as there were plenty out there by even the hobgoblin's limited reckoning with similar effects but their own quirks that can and have proven the downfall of the overpresumptious, Narz respectfully held his tongue, but crossed his arms as well before long.

At the mention of the ring, which to his poor memory in the moment, he could not recall if it had come up in the previous confession, Narz's attention started to waver as curiosity began getting the best of him. Still, he caught enough to focus again on the Tortle long enough to nod faintly in agreement. But following Claire's explanation of the situation(and subsequent admission of some... disappointment(?) in her teammates), the hobgoblin again found himself brushing his beard in thought.

"... Sorry Claire. I don't mean to rattle your chains any more than I wish to promote disharmony with my particular... hang ups. Between the training I went through -- as most Hobgoblins of my particular, uhm, station have undergone -- on top of some past experiences involving creatures that make use of telepathy, the aversion is harder to ignore." He looks again more pointedly at the ring, regardless of it is presented or not, but so long as its visible. And if not visible, he'd look to Torsus instead. "Coupled with a brief obsession with looking into it a bit further, and discovery a few ways by which they've overpowered or circumvented protections, and it becomes harder still not to..." Narz trailed off there with a sigh.

"... to let words of assurances or self confidence grow too much, least I and those that aughta be able to rely on me suffer the consequences of it... That's not to say I hadn't meant what I said earlier as well, but-" Narz catches himself there, then waved a hand in dismissal of the topic. "To the more important topic at hand, the cons almost outweigh the pros. As not only would we be missing an opportunity to probe another giant's noggin, er, spirit for more about their people in general or their movements, but might 'upset' them with our rudeness if we try to circumvent their territory after "trespassing" it without their tacit approval of some other bullshite. And then have them to deal with either whenever we may happen to pass through here on business." The hobgoblin said, rolling his eyes at the last tidbit. "Let's just finish resting up, And if in morning proper we can agree to follow up on matters with this hunters, let it be so."