Chapter 2 - Red Larch, continues

Felicia blasts one of the rats coming from the wall.

Casting eldritch blast.
13/13 HP | 13 AC | Darkvision 120’ (magic or natural)
Spell Slots: 2/2 | Spell Level: 1

A callous BANG sounds from the old wooden door on the far side of the room, rattling the rusting iron pull.

A beat.

A second THWACK sounds and the door flies open on its hinges, puffs of dust showering the threshold in a small cloud. A slim figure steps through into what little light is available, hand clutching a sun-bleached quarterstaff topped in a twisted, knurled fist.

Already! Mhorva calls in accented words wrapped in a husky, warm voice, And here the hunt had just begun! I--

Her pond scum-coloured eyes swivel to the wall to see a too-large rat scrabbling out of a crevice. Muttering a curse under her breath, she makes a cupping gesture with her hand toward the creature, manifesting a ghostly, skeletal hand that reaches for the vermin.

I guess we’ve found all we can in here. Time to ask some more questions about this cult or find the other people connected to these Believers and see how they are connected to the Earth cult.

Mhorva leans on her staff and grimaces, taking a few steps forward with a dull clack-clack. Yeh seem capable enough; swift in a fight too. The folk above di'int seem that confident, though, she says to no one in particular. Her eyes find the three bodies on the floor and she moves towards them. A few steps out, the woman crouches on her hands and feet and approaches at a sort of crawl. Her hair, long, black and a bit stringy from natural oils, trails along the rough stone floor.

Foul airs, what have we here, she muses, searching the decomposing remains. Occasionally, her fingers prod a bit or two, nostrils inhaling deeply to take in what most would deem an unpleasant scent. Tsk, tsk, tsk, she mutters under her breath.

Balak, saddened by this brutal sight, investigated the room for anything else he may find.

Once everyone is done searching, he will suggest: Perhaps we should bring these bodies to the surface. The elders need to see what these "omens" have done to these people.

Xella turns towards the newcomer. "Hello, there! Have we met before? I'm usually pretty good with faces."

Mhorva finishes her bizarre investigation of the bodies, pulling back and rising to her feet once more. She turns to face the woman addressing her. We? No. The first time, this. Her hair swings in thick black strands over her features as she talks. The first time meeting these ones too. Yeh can call me Mhorva. She taps a decomposing limb with the foot of her staff, and it's unclear if she's addressing the adventurers or the bodies.

Tell me, do yeh know what this means, then? Mhorva taps her forehead where the mark has been cut into the corpses. 'Tis a strange symbol that doesn't speak of any kind of joy to mine eyes. And to the rest of the room, The way out back there is clear. Master dwarf, yeh've a sound idea. The townsfolk above sent me chasin' after yeh down here - skittish they were about what befell yeh. So if only takin' a while longer than they expected was enough t' set them off, I think they'd appreciate knowin' about this.

Bad omens, that’s what they mean. They are symbols of the Earth Cult. To make matters worse... Sorgrimm looks more dour than usual as he pauses for a moment. Not but a few evenings ago Helm gave me a vision. The vision was of the Earth prophet Marlos Urnrayle. I don’t think this is a coincidence. Something is very concerning about all of this and we must get to the bottom of it.

Balak sheaths his weapons, clips his shield to his back, and carries two of the bodies, one on each shoulder.

We must grab that dagger back at the statue. It is evidence of this gastly scene, and perhaps there is significance to it.

Dazzle, please follow me an' grab it.

Grimm, can you carry the last body, please?

Sorgrimm stows his weapon and shield and lifts the body as Balak requested.