All Adventures are Local - Chapter 1

As the lot of you prepare to set off for the temple, Elijah steps out of the blacksmith's shop.

Oh, if you lot are headed to the temple, could you deliver the information we discovered from the young lad? We think there is an undead infestation in the swamp, but being coordinated by something. Perhaps they have some information? he says before wishing you all good day.

The first part of your walk is through the ever more buzzing town. More and more people are putting up decorations for the spring festival; silky fabrics in soft yellows and peachy oranges hung across the streets, from balcony to balcony, pots with flowery plants on windowsills, even a few garlands with light green leaves and white flowers around door- and window frames. The people are smiling and chatting happily, clearly unaware of the dangers around them. You pass Summerdew Conservatory, one of the schools in town, with kids out in the courtyard playing games and singing songs. Mandrake waves, Nàdair smiles, Roddric listens to them talk about the happenings with the puppies.
A bit further down the road you pass the Blessed Guidance of Ilyra of all Masks, a vanity project orchestrated by Aartskleinum Groodgramli Greatbraid, the highest man of faith in the kingdom. He thought Bromwich, a rich town visited by travelers from wherever the wind blew, needed to show its loyalty to Ilyra, and maybe the power and wealth of the faith in the Queendom Ainran. Greatbraid intended to make Bromwich the spiritual capital of Duiz-Dnalloh, the barony in which it lies. He asked the most renowned architect of the time, Retsnom, to create his greatest, and what turned out to be his final, masterpiece. Now, a few decades later, the massive construction with intricate spires and lots of statues hewn into the walls, was just halfway there, but no builders had been seen working on it for the past few years. In the beginning the spiritual leaders and baron , had pumped a lot of money in this project, but soon scandals came to light: the architect rarely showed his face, spending his time in the local taverns rather than checking on the builders, who decided that no checking meant room for slacking. Things escalated when Retsnom died and a new architect had to take his place; choosing one took several years and then part of the construction had to be taken down due to faults. At some point the money flow stopped, the Aartskleinum left disillusioned. Voices are rising about a new team of builders coming to Bromwich, but the people in town don't really believe in the ostentatious building to ever be finished. Most of them never even wanted the creation in the first place, much preferring to stick to the little Abbey just out of town. Passing the Blessed Guidance, you feel the mood of the rest of town doesn't fully reach it, a small stain on an almost perfect sunny midday.
Once you pass through the gates of Bromwich the influence of the countryside is immediately noticeable: meadows filled with wild flowers, buzzing with insects collecting pollen and nectar. The surrounding woods are full of birds singing and chirping at each other. You see only a few people out, women collecting flowers or lazily walking young lovers. About an hour outside of town the scenery changes, the flowers start to be scattered around just in small patches and the trees surrounding the grasslands growing taller and darker. There are no more insects and the birds have changed, a murder of crows filling one of the trees near the road, following you with their eyes. Another half hour down some of the trees have not yet gotten their new leaves yet, empty branches sticking through weirdly brownish coloured canopies, the grasslands are barren of any flowers and some larger birds of prey circle round above. The land doesn't feel sick, it just seems different, less filled with life, like something eerie is nearby, keeping all small things at bay.
Not much after that the Abbey of the Wayward Saint comes into vision, surrounded by a small garden, a colourful oasis in this weird environment. As you come closer you see a woman watering the plants, once she hears you she turns and waves, smiling broadly. Those that have been there before recognise her as sister Eloise.

It's common knowledge that the Wayward Saint was founded by a wandering All Mask mother. They visited Bromwich and found that it was in need of a safe haven for both inhabitants of the town and all travelers coming near it, regardless of which mask they were devoted too. Because they didn't want to be bound directly to the town they let the little temple be built a bit away from the town's walls, but close enough that anyone could still come by whenever they'd like. Soon the Wayward Saint was well known among both the townsfolk and traveling traders, due to the everlasting friendly and hospitable way everyone was always treated.
Nobody remembers the name of the mother who founded the Wayward Saint, or maybe nobody ever knew it, she always just called herself "mother". There are whispers all around that it was actually Ilyra herself who created the temple and it's accepting ways.
Now it's run by father Mikhael, who honours the philosophy of the Wayward Saint to his best capacity, accepting all into the temple who needed safety, advice, or just a calm space to hide from the world, as long as they respect the temple and all that are inside. Since they get a lot of visitors usually the clergy are very up to date on the latest happenings in and around town, usually having a lot more information than the average Bromwichian.

Sister Eloise drops her arm, blinking a few times in slight confusion and awe as she looks up and down Nàdair. Miss Nàdair! Many springs look better on some than others I see! How may springs has it been? Her eyes move to the two men in the little group, first Roddric, at who she smiles a very comforting and relaxed smile, not pressing for any contact, then Mandrake and her breath stops momentarily. In a few quick strides she closes the gap between her and Mandrake and she reaches for his hands, holding them in hers like they're priceless artifacts. Mandrake the healer. It's always an honour to have you here with us. Please let's go inside! Father will be saddened if I keep you out here to myself! She gently moves Mandrake's hands until the palms touch, looking at them for a split second before turning and leading the way inside.

Sister Eloise shakes her head. Too much Mandrake, I think it's best I leave it to father to tell you. Something is out there, the dead are coming back. We hear screams and moans coming from the graveyard at night. She pauses at the door, hand on the knob, turning around and softly adding in a half scared whipser. Father forbade us to look, but something moves through the shadows at night and it keeps me from sleeping. She stares at nothing for a second, her mind far away for a second, then looks back up, forcing a smile and pushing open the door. Father! Look who showed up suddenly! Mandrake the healer is here and he brought two friends!

Sister Eloise frowns at Nàdair. Surely you know we are open for any person coming or our church, Nàdair. We don't go around asking if they howl at the moon!
Once you step inside the church you step into a pool of light, small patches in different colours created by the large stained glass windows on the other end of the light wooden temple. Small squares in the rosette show all masks of Ilyra, with little depictions of what the masks represent around it. Below the rosette are five pencil shaped windows with images of the first four known mothers and fathers of the Wayward Saint and an "empty" one in the middle, just light yellows and oranges, shining like a sun. Small flecks of darkness move across the floor; shadows from the large chestnut in the backyard.
Three rows of benches face the stained glass window, right beneath it, facing the benches, are four wooden chairs. Where in other churches Kwartiers, Helftkleini and other clergymen sit a level above the faithful, in the Wayward Saint everyone is on the same level. Father Mikhael, like most fathers and mothers before him, preferred to speak to the faithful more like in a conversation, planting seeds of thoughts in their minds, rather than telling them what's right or wrong. Often he starts pacing back and forth, seemingly finding the right words to say written on the floor.
Now Father Mikhael comes striding towards the three of you with a broad happy smile on his face and arms wide open. Mandrake, Nàdair! It's so good to see you two and your friend. How could you guess what's in my oven Nàdair? And you, friend, excuse me if we met before, I see so many faces and my old mind doesn't store names the way it did once, Father Mikhael and you are? By now he has reached the group and reaches a hand out to Roddric.

Father Mikhael places his second hand over the handshake with Roddric. The door will be always open.
He then let's go of Roddric's hand and turns to Nàdair, smiling a slightly shy smile as he pulls her into a big hug. I will still welcome you if you do and bake you a special batch.
After 4,6 seconds he releases her, turns to Mandrake, opening his mouth to speak, but before a single word cones out Mandrake speaks first. Father Mikhael listens patiently, crossing his arms and frowning. When Mandrake stops talking father shakes his head. It's worse than I thought. Had I known innocents had been attacked by those rampaging the graveyard at night.... I didn't want to bother the mayor right before Spring Festival, I thought it were some wild animals digging up the graves. I feared it was something more sinister, but this.... This is serious. There has to be a necromancer pulling people from their graves, controlling them to do harm to innocent tradesmen! It's painful to see the school of necromancy used in such a cruel way. Bringing back the dead breaks with Ilyra's design! Death, just as life, has meaning and purpose and should be respected!
I have to ask you to please take care of this issue fast! I have some holy water, which can be used to battle the undead, and I'm sure you'll be able to find the necromancer out on our graveyard one night soon.
He starts moving to a door on the other side of the room, waving for you to follow him as he continues to speak.
Now for the werewolves organising packs, I can't hand you a solution there. I have heard of Helftkleini using their religious magic to cure men of lycanthropy, but it's not in my abilities to do so. I could write to the nearest Helftkleinum, but that would take time. I feel the druids might know more, maybe even have heard of other cures. It actually surprises me, Mandrake, that you didn't go to see them first.
Now that I think about it, have either of you ever met Oma Salie?