Chapter 2: The path to enlightenment is blood

Lavender looks up in shock as the food and water rains down from beyond the ceiling. "Hell's bells, Stearvy! You know I was just joking about the divine bacon, right? Hmm... Mebbe yer god o' carcasses ain't so bad, ha!" He grabs a piece of the grey, spongy, shapeless food and tears a hunk out, chewing it a few times before scrunching up his face in distaste. "Urgh... next time could you ask him to put some flavor innit?"

After Stearvall announces his intention, Lavender chokes on his food mid-chew. "R'you shittin' us, priest? I thought we all agreed to steer clear o' whatever these grimalkin things are, now you want to stroll right into the woods n' seek 'em out?! Did'jer god 'o carcasses tell you this?"

He chokes down a few more bites to fill his belly before gathering up enough to feed the group for the day, making sure to fill his waterskin as well.

Daniel looks quizzically at Stearvall, "Why? I thought we were going to find some sort of relic?"

"The path to the relic leads through the grimalkin, We are must face trials to prove our worth, the first of these it to clense this undeath" He stands, almost striking he head on the ceiling and walks over to Daniel and places a hand on his shoulder. "I can not do this without you, I can not know if you will survive, will you join me on this divine quest?"

Daniel shrugs, "Guess it can't be helped, huh?" he asks, nodding his assent.

Lavender stops packing his sack with food long enough to let out a heavy sigh and turn towards Daniel & Stearvall. "Ahh, bullocks Stearvall. Had to go and get all serious and genuine on us, didn't ya'? Well, I'll help ya get yer trinket on two conditions. First, there's gotta be a sizable payoff at th' end. No way to know 'bout that 'till we get there. And second, Murt punches and stabs anything that comes at us."

Tying his sack closed and slinging it over his shoulders, Lavender turns to Murt. "Whaddya say Murty? Wanna pound some undead gobbos?"

Murt has worn the same inscrutable look on her face throughout the morning spent at gossip and plot, much as one would expect to see the level of comprehension expressed by your average moss covered stone (but perhaps with more animosity than most). She worries her bread and bacon with dog-like tenacity, voicing little opinion throughout the affairs of the men who surround her.

"Hmph?" She grunts, looking up from her plate. "Whuz-undead?"

Lavender looks askance at Murt with a smirk. "Well, if ya don't already know then I ain't gonna spoil th' surprise! Let's jus' say they're things fer you t' punch n' stab. And that's probly all you really care t' know about 'em, am I right? Ha! Let's be on our way, no sense delaying the violence, I suppose."

Daniel stands up and nods, "Let's get it done, then," he says.

The four intrepid adventurers head out into the cool fall sun. This morning is cooler than the last few mornings. You can see your breathe as you exhale. Ginger gave you directions to the abandoned goblin village; the known source of the grimalkin. Her parting words are "You are going to see things there that are horrible... be strong"

The walk is short. Bitty the samdu slows it down so it takes a bit longer. She continues to pause to pick up rocks to chew on along the way. To get to the village you need to take what was once a well worn but now overgrown trail through the woods. The trees are dwarf pines. The soil is a bit dry and rocky. It must be hard to grow food out here. The hike is uphill. By the time you have been walking a full bell the cool weather is not enough to cool you off and you are sweating.

Eventually you come upon a large boulder split in half. The trail leads through the boulder. Painted on the boulder in black charcoal is a large figure. Tall and imposing the figure has extra long limbs. You aren't sure if it is an accurate depiction of something or the artist just didn't understand natural proportions. The most important feature of the rock painting is the creature's face. There is no face. There is a large hole in the head. An empty gaping hole. In the creatures hands are a bunch of smaller creatures seemingly in agony. Down at the creature's feet are even more small creatures. They seem to be prostrating themselves before the large creature.

There is one other thing you notice. There is no sound in the woods. Not an insect or a bird or a squirrel. Complete silence.

"Well, this seems... cozy," Daniel says dryly as he sees the picture and notices that there's no sound, "I bet we're getting close."

With that, he straps his shield on and draws his sword.

Lavender slowly walks up to the boulder and reaches his hand out to touch the charcoal painting. He does a fair job of keeping up appearances, but the rest of the group can see the blood drain from his face and he swallows hard. "Yea... creepy is more like it. Mebbe we should find a secluded spot nearby and tie up Ol' Bitty so she doesn't get caught up in whatever we find ahead."

Taking a few minutes Lavender will do just that. Finding a spot a little ways off the already overgrown path on the "safe" side of the boulder he gets Bitty settled in with a few rocks to munch. Really he is just trying to find an excuse to let Daniel and Murt move forward until he follows a little behind them. With his dagger drawn, Lavender is ready to disappear into the brush at the first sign of trouble.

Murt, ever unmoved by the avenues of fine art, maintains a blasé air of disinterest in the face of the foreboding depiction of evil. Her study of the dark drawing is brief before she begins to sort of kick stones about. "Jus' stupid rocks." She mutters thickly, "Whys Undead live outside?"

Lead by Daniel the group walks through the split rock. Murt comes second followed by Stearvall with Lavender watching the rear. Bitty the samdu seems unconcerned at being tied up.

Past the rock you make it to the crest of the hill. An abandoned village with a dozen or so huts is laid out in front of you. Daniel almost trips as his foot avoids stepping on what looks like the clothing of a caravan guard. The clothing is ripped and shredded. You can recognize it as a caravan guard by the broken spear and the broken shield. Oddly you see no bones, blood or flesh in the area. How can such carnage leave no blood stains?

The walls of the huts are disconcerting. Painted all over the walls are more images of the faceless black giant. Pictures also include images of sacrifices. As you wander carefully into the middle of the village you hear a loud snap! to the right of you. It is just behind a large wooden hut.

Gunna check how stupid Murt is going to be.
Odd = dumb move
Even = more tactical move

Amidst the ruins, the snapping sound behind the hut brings Murt's pontifications to the forefront of her mind. Careful, deliberate action is needed, as Murt works to strategically make her move.

"HEY!" Murt shouts at the top of her lungs. "WHO THERE? SOMEONE NAMED UNDEAD?" She yanks her sword roughly from its sheath, and a burning brand of an eye glows at her forehead. "CUZ I'MUNNA FUGGIN' KILL THAT GUY."

You can almost see the face-palm, even though all Lavender does is squint his eyes shut in frustration. Wait... what am I complaining about? I *wanted* them to draw attention. Thank you, Murt! Lavender darts off to one side, taking cover behind a nearby hut and making himself ready to pounce on whatever unsuspecting enemy is foolish enough to engage Murt.

As Lavender circles around the other side of one of the huts and sees the old goblin from town, he visibly relaxes. As he is about to sheath his dagger, however, he hesitates. What in th’ blazes would this old goblin be doin’ pullin’ his rickety ol’ cart through an abandoned village known to hold undead gobbos? With dagger still in hand Lavender creeps closer, taking in the scene and trying to figure out what the goblin was doing back here.