As Holden's axe thuds into the ground, you can see the combinations of your attacks have rendered every slime defeated. 

The mortally wounded Cultist turns over, gives a bloodied cough, and peers at the party. He contorts his hands in another sigil before pointing at his battered body. Strangely, he has a hint of a smile on his face. "It seems the Dark Ones have arrived," he says, giving another cough, before falling still, the life leaving his eyes.

Combat has concluded - nice work! The woods are still, and the slimes are disintegrating at an unnaturally rapid pace. The Cultist's corpse follows the same path - whatever last spell he had was used to erase evidence of his work from the surrounding vicinity. Glancing around, it still appears to be late in the night - you should have no issue backtracking to the Zavas Tribe before dawn. What would the party like to do?

Additionally, you may Level Up!

Lazarus appears to be quite sick, as as green tinge appears on his pale skin. But when the Cultist falls, a hungry expression is on his face. 

He rushes over to the Ochori, searching the corpse for anything of value for a mage before it completely disintegrates. 

Hush helps Lazarus in his search, seeing the body disintegrating before his eyes and knowing that precious little information may be found but may offer a bounty of help to them later on.

Luxaene coldly looks around, to see if there are any remnants or evidence on this cultists grander plans...

She speaks aloud, indicating to the others, "'The Dark Ones.'. A title anyone recognises?"

Investigation for the search: 18
History for the thought of 'The Dark Ones': 11 (+2 if Arcana)

Holden will investigate the slimes he just killed. Do they seem magical? What kind of magic? Of what substance are they made of?

Arcana: 14

As the Cultist's body fades away, the combination of your searching and quick actions allows you to recover some items left on the mage's corpse before it withers away into nothingness.

Lazarus - while you don't find anything particularly dedicated to traditional spellcasting, you do find a set of Alchemist's Supplies.
Hush - your nimble fingers allow you to pull of a small, wooden mask that the Cultist was wearing. You recognize it to be a Soulmask*. You additionally find a letter of crumpled parchment tucked into the Cultist's robe, both of which you manage to pull off and prevent from fully deteriorating. Once not in contact with the Cultist, they seem to cease melting. 
Luxaene - unfortunately, you are too shaken by the encounter to recall any specific history or arcane knowledge related to what has just transpired.
Holden - you get the sense that the Cultist was created by some conjuration magic the Cultist had casted. They seem to be made out of a kind of magical poison, one that fades when the spell wears off - and before your eyes, the slimes seem to be collapsing under their own weight, disintegrating just as the Cultist is. 

To any non-Imperial:

Hush briefly looks over the Soulmask, understanding its place here with the cultist and his spell casting, but first turning his attention to the crumpled parchment. The mask can wait, he thinks. He looks closely at the parchment, reading it, trying to ascertain its origin and any markings (Investigation: 7). 

After satisfied in his inspection of the parchment, he tucks it away and picks up the mask to look it over as well (Investigation: 15).

"Some interesting pieces on our vandal," Hush says to the others. "Did any of you find anything?"

Lazarus holds up a kit containing vials and alchemical substrates. "Our friend was clearly dedicated to the art of magic. This will surely prove useful for us." 

Not understanding the arcane value of the mask, Lazarus tucks away the alchemist's supplies. He laughs, "Too bad the Dark Ones couldn't keep him alive. The locals are superstitious as always. It seems our task at hand is complete. Why don't we report back to...what was his name again?" 

Impressed that Hush managed to retrieve the mask before it disintegrated, Luxaene helps him investigate it.

(Very sorry on the delay. Current situations have made my workplace not a fun time to be in, but I will be attempting to get out a post every 2-3 days.)

Hush studies the parchment, but the unique writing on it combined with the wear-and-tear on the sheet prevent him from ascertaining as much as he had hoped. What parts of the piece don't have significant holes of acid burned through it have scraggly gibberish written over it. It might be a code, or it may be another language - you aren't sure. 
However, the Soulmask gives you more evident information. The rough weathering of the bark the mask implies tough living conditions, which is strange - most of the time, Soulmasks were owned by well-practiced magicians that could afford a comfortable lifestyle, and as such took great care of their masks. From those facts, you can ascertain the Soulmask likely belonged to an Outcast of the Ochori tribe. 

What would the party like to do?

Lazarus is content with the outcome of the encounter. He urges his companions to return to the Chief Overseer and report their success, and maybe finally he can spend a night in a comfortable bed. 

Hush nods, "We should let him know. But it's strange that an outcast would be willing to risk so much to be a nuisance. I wonder what was driving him?"

"My thoughts also. While I can think of a reason, it is a bit short-reaching. Say, we could ask about these 'Dark Ones' in the community, I cannot believe this would be the first hearing of them." Luxaene joins the others as they begin to make their way back to town. 

The five of you wander back from whence you came, leaving the rapidly decomposing organic material behind. The woods seems quiet, but the natural hums and chirps of woodland beasts comforts the journey. By the time you make it back to the outposts of the Southern Farms, it seems to be a short time until the sun will rise, and through the densely packed trees, you can see the overgrown foliage or the Zavas tribe that pierces the horizon above. Emerging from the scenery are a cluster of buildings that are likely what Flinn was referring to as the outposts that keep watch over the Southern Farms. A dozen small buildings lie askew in a grove, some on the ground, others suspended like glorified treehouses. Interestingly, it appears to be unguarded at the moment. 

Pressing on, you approach the gates and roped bridges that lead upwards and onwards to the platformed Zavas tribe above. The morning activities of the tribe have already begun. Shopsellers are propping up vined stalls in a marketplace, and taskgoers traverse the canopy, carrying messages and all sorts of products. You pass by what seems to be a uniquely constructed, flat bazaar of items and products - an extremely large, tautly-woven mesh of dried vines and reeds is strung across a circlet of trees, and this seems to be where the bartering of goods is done. Piled in several merchant stalls are colorful fruits, vegetables, and spices, with an interesting mix of common and exotic products alike - the specialized techniques of druids and farmers of this tribe have allowed flora of any climate to thrive in this town. However, one thing catches your eye - what seems to be a squadron of a half-dozen Imperial troops enters the bouncy arrangement, their weight warping the area on which they stand slightly. Unaccustomed to the arrangement, they slowly make their way around the stalls, seemingly speaking with each merchant that has goods for sale. Some seem to argue, while others seem to comply. What makes you turn your heads is a particularly loud bout of shouting - a ruddy, flustered, what seems to be elven merchant is arguing with two of the Imperial soldiers. Onlookers begin to gather as the spectacle seems to gather attention, and the handful of Imperial soldiers begin to nervously look at the accumulating crowd, hands slowly being placed to their weapons. 

What would the party like to do?

Lazarus is interested in the ruckus and steps closer. Looking at the soldiers, he says, "Soldiers, what seems to be the issue here? Has this merchant does something wrong?" 

Luxaene stands on the side the elven merchant, "Indeed, I do not think this is anything that cannot be settled with by exchanging words."

Hush sits back, watching the scene play out. He scans the markets for anything of value that might prove opportunistically available given the ruckus (Perception: 26). He quickly telepaths a message to Lazarus and Luxaene - Careful. We don't want to make any major enemies at this point. There's much we need to discover and rocking the boat either way might hamper our efforts later on.

(I sincerely apologize about the delay - work's been tumultuous given current circumstances where I'm at, but I hope to continue posting with some regularity, even if the posts are a few days in between. Hopefully that's alright with you all!)

One of the Imperial soldiers turns to Lazarus, an annoyed look on his face that seems to abate ever so slightly by noticing the Imperial clothing on Lazarus. "Damn Zavas - they never pay their dues to the king. You don't seem to be a guard, so I kindly ask for you to step away."  He proceeds to move forward towards the merchant, and to Luxaene, who is standing nearby. "We told you already, two gold for this week, or you're out of town!" To which both the merchant and several surrounding Zavas members begin loudly protesting - something along the lines of 'The Imperium has no right to rule over the Zavas' is a popular sentiment. A piece of rotten fruit strikes the talking Imperial in the helmet, and some laughter can be heard from the mass of tribesmembers nearby. 

Hush, the only thing that catches your notice outside of what you can witness in the confrontation are more Imperial and Zavas members gathering in the vicinity. Derek has also disappeared, presumably into the crowd. 

(Holden, you still here?)

Lazarus revels in the conflict. Tensions were high in the Zavas Tribe, and while the staunch loyalist in him would support the Imperials, he would do no such thing. In all of this, he senses opportunity for gain.

The young nobleman cocks his head and falsely assumes a friendly position next to the elf merchant. He says to the talking soldier, "Soldier, as a concerned citizen, I want the best for our local community. You have no right to be treating this man like this. I highly suggest you return to your other duties, before this crowd around you decides to throw something more painful than rotten fruit."

Lazarus tries to leverage his status as an Imperial to persuade the soldiers to leave. After all, they can't arrest him as they would do to one of the natives. By doing so, he hopes to begin building a relationship with the local people, which should help further his goals in the Wilderness. 

Persuasion: 12

If Lazarus feels that the battle of wills isn't going in his favor, he has one more trick up his sleeve. If that is the case, he will cast Cause Fear at the Imperial.

(WIS DC 14) 

Holden pulls out 2 gp pieces and prepares to hand it over to the soldier if things get out of hand. 

(I’m here! Haven’t been posting because Holden doesn’t talk much, sorry. I’ll make sure to post his actions in the future even if he doesn’t say anything.)