[OOC: Small update with DM information]
Kadrin gave the bridge ahead a wary glance. "Well, the bridge has not been made by any of my kin's hands, but it will see us across."

[OOC: Kadrin will also examine the hanging bodies as he waits for the others to begin making their way across the bridge... specifically, how are their arms being held to their chests? Do they still hold/carry any weapons? Do they have any heraldry that would identify them (heraldry check if needed, please)?]

"Grimaz ungrim unbaraki,"

At the muttered (or was it grumbled?) curse, Jarenion's violet eyes flitted to Kadrin, lingered there for the briefest of instants, watching the Dwarven General's jaw, even though it was hidden behind the immense beard, set with determination, and, similarly, his broad shoulders square themselves.

"Indeed," the mage muttered softly, letting his gaze lift from Kadrin, now, to regard the bodies of the six hunters hanging high above them.

The mage was not a religious sort, to be sure - the majority of his faith had been placed long ago in the arcane - but he appreciated the powers of the gods and the fealty of those who followed them and, even more so, the traditions and customs which were ascribed to their existence. So it was that a good part of him lamented the fate of these six and, by extension and supposition, the fates suffered by those others who had accompanied Galenthanus. Still yet an even greater part of him mourned the lack of time and necessity to properly tend to the bodies of his countrymen. This display, likely intended as some simple ward or warning, was just as much an insult to elven custom and, to that end, Jarenion was sickened all the more by the sight of it. "They should be interred in the arms of the Oerth," he murmured almost absently to Lun, "not hanging in fetid environs such as this, left like so much fruit to rot on the limb,"

"Well," Kadrin's voice interrupted Jarenion's musings, drawing his attentions away from the curiously dangling bodies for a moment, "the bridge has not been made by any of my kin's hands, but it will see us across."

Jarenion turned his eyes to the bridge, let them find Maximus thereafter - the giant of a thief still scrutinizing the area for tricks or traps - and, then, after another glance at the remains of the six hunters, he regarded Lun once more, "A prayer for their spirits, dear sister."


((OOC: As the subject says, just a fluff post... mainly because this game has inspired me to write and I'm finding myself in Jarenion's head fairly often... ))

However a second very familiar face, though in unfamiliar armor, stopped him dead in his tracks. A deep breath inhaled, he moved to stand beside the man in full green plate armor.

"Hello Arien"

"Well met, Maximus, it has been some time." Arien offered his hand and clasped Maximus' forearm."

"Aye, some time indeed. And how are you? Any word from the others of our first group?" With Arien telling of himself, his wife and child, both of which Maximus had not known the Knight had. Then a sad admittance from both men as to no word from Char, Dapple or the rest and then Queen Yolanda entered and began to talk.

In quick order upon her ask for aid, the rest of the eight people gathered gave a vow of accepting the task of finding and rescuing her son and the group's friend Galen. "

"Let us move to the garden immediately then and we will begin"

Once in the garden, she gave the two amulets to Arien and Sparrow telling the party of their worth.
"These can guide you to Galen as well. You will feel them pull towards him but they will not know passageways or dangers just direction. If the three sisters are our foes then you will most likely be near a swamp or a dark forest, some place with lots of roots and earth. They would create a lair beneath a mound or hill."

The queen smiles for the first time since she came to you, "Thank you all and may the gods guide you on this quest." She then begins casting her spell. As the spell begin to shift them all could Maximus groan "Oh no not again so soon" The garden becomes bright and then suddenly ....

The group found themselves in a cavern, not quite dark as you are near the mouth of the cavern and there is sunlight some distance before you. Maximus unable to hold his lunch from the two teleports fell to his knee's and threw up. Slowly recovering after a few moments he cleaned himself and rose once more to his feet. The recovering gladiator could see the ground beneath his feet was stone, laid out as if on a patio or a courtyard. That the air was warm with a slight scent of the sea to the air. Before the party could see was a stone bridge over a rocky gully filled with dark green quartz like rock with a green iridescence to it. The Bridge was lined with columns decorated with serpents coiled around them and two skulls, larger than a man at the entrance to the bridge closest to where the group of eight now stood.

Between the twin skulls stood a lone man, holding a torch but not moving, something about him looks almost unreal or not natural as if a statue made of perhaps flesh? Above him a more gruesome sight of bodies hanging from the stone ceiling upside down black ropes binding them by their feet. Although high up Maximus and the rest could tell by their garb that these were once 6 Elvin hunters. They hang unmoving but their arms stand crossed at their chests not hanging down. Beyond the bridge there is sunlight and a cave entrance that has been carved around to resemble a demonic face.

"Acererak's tomb," Kadrin grumbled. "I remember Galen speaking of this place when he first returned. If our friend is true, then we find ourselves on the threshold of the most foulest of places."

"Can this be the Tomb of Acererak? The Tomb of Horrors?" This from the Bard Finarsil.

As Maximus looked over the party his eyes drawn to Sparrow to see the amulet on her chest floating and pulled in the direction of the cave mouth.

"No big surprise, the amulet says we go into the cave." The Half-Elf Ranger spoke as she saw Maximus looking at her.

"Be ready," Arien hissed as he indicated the torchbearer standing between themselves and the mouth of the tomb, "This man - or whatever he is, is no friend. No decent person would be in such a place of evil as this, surrounded by the hunters in such a display. I fear a trap; prepare yourselves, friends, and fan out into combat formation!"

As Maximus and the rest spread out to better avoid some type of area effect spell and to maximize their individual skill the knight leader of the party stepped forward

"You there," the knight called. "What is the meaning of this? Who dares to slay the servants of the Faerie Queen, and to disgrace their bodies so? What have you done with Galenthanus, son of Yolanda the Queen?"

Receiving no answer, Arien gave a quiet signal for the party to move forward, Maximus's hands ready to draw his throwing hand axes, and use them as needed. However as the eight approached closer to the man with the torch, they could all see in reality that it was not a man at all but some type of construct.

Lifting the brim of his hat with one end of his staff, Jarenion smirked a little.

"Something of a scarecrow," the mage observed, aloud but more to himself than anyone else, "intended to scare other than crows." He craned his neck back, turning his violet eyes to the bodies of the hunters where they hanged above and mused; "Why ever a scarecrow in addition to the likes of that, though, is beyond comprehension,"

Maximius, not wanting to take his eyes off the ‘scarecrow' replied over his shoulder.

"That it may be, however as Arien has said let us be on guard. Even a lifeless item of skin and straw can become quite dangerous with enough magic"

Jarenion's lips pressed tightly together at Maximus‘s reiteration of caution spoke once more.

"The torch is the most obvious magic, here," he informed them, then, "a simple spell cast, likely, for the effect. The rocks in the cave, there, belie a raw magic, as well, nothing formed or directed. Beyond that, there is nothing more arcane here, now, than those enchantments carried with us. My spell has some time left, I shall be sure to inform you if anything changes."

Spell what spell? Maximus his attention focused to the front had not heard or seen the Mage cast one but any spell cast right now the huge Ex-Gladiator knew would be helpful. As Maximus though this Arien quietly spoke out to him to check the ‘scarecrow.

"Maximus," the knight spoke softly. "Check the... scarecrow and the surrounding area for traps, if you will. I would not be surprised to find that our enemies have drawn our attention to this macabre display, only to shoot us with poison darts or some such while we are distracted. Let us beware the skulls, the pillars, the hunters themselves. I rather doubt that our enemies intend to allow us to simply stroll, unmolested, into the front door."

"Aye I'm on it" Moving slowly, as Kadrin checked the stonework of the bridge, the party's lone Thief moved towards the ‘scarecrow' ready for action and to give it a good looking over, Finarsil's song lingering in his head..........

"Alac-Ro the Weaver of Webs is the one
Who toys with adventurers' lives just for fun
When fear tries to make adventurers run
Dark webs seek to blot out the life-giving sun

"Alac-Ro the Weaver of Webs is he
Who creates the dark-woven tapestry
His dark works make a solemn decree
Please try to find a way to break free

"Alac-Ro the Weaver of Webs works at night
Devising the most devious designs for a plight
Where adventurers are tormented with fright after fright
If they fail to do the things that are right

"Alac-Ro the Weaver of Webs is who
Makes adventurers sweat like a wet morning dew
Creating impossible odds not a few
There is victory when you discover just what to do"

Bringing the power of True Seeing into play, Odyson felt like a veil was being lifted from his eyes and everything around him took on new meaning and auras. The bridge, the skulls and the pillars were all exactly as they seemed to be, no magic of life to them at all, no traps or symbols that may be a threat. The Torchbearer was a stuffed sack of human skin with no life or unlife either. Gesturing toward the bridge and the torch bearer, " These carry no magic to fear, we pass safely."

As he pointed to the green of the rock was another matter for it was, for lack of a better word, pure evil Negative Material energy that was seeping into the rocks surrounding the cave. It had no life or direction; it was merely a sign of the strength of what was awaiting them. "Don't touch the green rocks, it now also pure evil, it coming from where we must go."

When the shaman looked up at the cave, just on the edge of his vision range, he had to turn his head from the sheer energy coming from there. The cave shone like a dark sun of evil, blindingly intense. Ody shaded his eyes as he nodded across the bridge to the cave. "Too much evil to be held inside where we go. Never seen so much evil and it is only our beginning. What can make so much?"

Odyson looked up at the hunters. They were not dead! Life still shone in the body although very weak. Yet, there was something else as well, little worm-like things (about 2 inches long) on the bodies clustered around the eyes, ears, mouth and the hands. In fact, the reason the arms were crossed was these leeches were attached to the hands of the hunters like crude stitches binding them together. Furthermore, the very ropes that bound them upside down from the ceiling were of the same life-force as the little parasites. These creatures were not evil by nature but they sure were not good for the hunter's health."The hunters are still alive, barely. They have creatures sucking out their life. Little ones on faces and hand, leeches. Not rope either, more leeches. We should save them."

"They are alive?" Sparrow could not believe what she heard. She wondered who would do such but then realized that their present location meant that there were too many possibilities to imagine. "If they live we need to save them or help them pass to the other side if we cannot save them. Either way, we need to do it quickly or the leeches will decide their fate. And I am sure it will not be a kind one."

Jarenion listened and, once or twice, nodded as The Great Bear reaffirmed and appended the mage's own observations in regards to the arcane forces that emanated in the space around them. When the shaman spoke the words ",hunters are alive, barely," though, Jarenion blinked, almost dumbfounded, and was glad for the brim of his hat and spill of his hair shielding most of the expression from view. His eyes turned upward, again, and, as he contemplated the hunters' predicament, started to chew on his lower lip even as a litany of spells churned in his mind.

"They are alive?" he heard Sparrow say, her disbelief not dissimilar from his own, "If they live we need to save them or help them pass to the other side if we cannot save them. Either way, we need to do it quickly or the leeches will decide their fate. And I am sure it will not be a kind one."

"Quite," Jarenion muttered, his eyes still on his near-dead countrymen, "We cannot, in good conscience, leave them as they are," He finally lowered his gaze, finding Lun, first, lingering there for a moment, and, then scrolling the assemblage of faces until he met the gaze of Sir Thedell, ",most certainly not in this place."

((Assuming some discussion/direction, here, as to the plan discussed in the Q&A,))

Thus, a course of action was laid out in which Arien and Lun would rise up to free the Celenian hunters and Jarenion and FInarsil would, through additional magics, assist in lowering the freed bodies to the ground where they could, at least, be properly tended and, with luck, sent on their way back to Yolanda with something to report other than despair (a minor sense of hope, at the very least). The mage brought the formula for feather fall to mind and, for an instant, hesitated in it's readying, the protection from evil spell he had readied just moments ago was still there (for a purpose, he was sure), and so he allowed himself to complete the casting, centering the spell on Arien, then, as the Knight and Priestess began their ascent, the mage found feather fall in the forefront, once more, and, with a nod to The Flaming Raven, awaited the need for its use.

((OOC2: Okay, as discussed in the QA. Lun and Arien are heading up to free the hunters, and Fin and J are going to feather fall them down. Figured that given Ody's revelations regarding the preponderance of evil revealed by his True Seeing, the protection from evil 10' radius spell wouldn't be a bad idea,))

"A prayer for their spirits, dear sister."

Lun returned Jarenion's glance with her own golden gaze. This was an awful place to have come to an end, and by all reasoning that end had been awful indeed. Forcing herself to look into the macabre scene, she began to whisper a soft prayer to the Daughter of the Night Skies. It was the purview of the Goddess to guide souls on the path of eternity, and she prayed it would be a peaceful passage. The fallen hunters had earned that right.

"They are in the hands of the Moonlit Mystery now. May she guide our fallen brothers and sisters home." Lun spoke softly as she laid a hand on the mage's shoulder.

Twisted looks of horror had painted across all gathered, in truth, horror was the only reasonable reaction to what lay before them. Still, they had come to this place with purpose, and they could let nothing stand in their way. The cost of that was too high. It seemed the others were of a similar mind, as each began delving into the mysteries of what lay before them.

It was the raven haired shaman's words that brought all to halt, "The hunters are still alive, barely. They have creatures sucking out their life. Little ones on face and hand. Not rope either, more leaches. We should save them."

"They are alive?"

Sparrow's words of dismay echoed her own inner monologue. It was a hard thing to believe, but worse, it spoke of the depths of this park power. She did not want to think on why the hunters had been left to such a fate.

The half-elf continued, "If they live we need to save them or help them pass to the other side if we cannot save them. Either way we need to do it quickly or the leeches will decide their fate, and I am sure it will not be a kind one.

"Quite," Jarenion muttered with his focus on the hanging elves, "We cannot, in good conscience leave them as they are... most certainly not in this place."

"Agreed," Lun's words were hollow as she let her focus move from Jarenion's violet gaze to the dying forms of her people. "There is no other course but to aid them."

Discussion began and it was soon decided that she and Arien would take flight to free Yolanda's hunters, and with the grace of the Goddess return life to them all. Silent prayers breathed from her lips as she and the knight rose up from the earth to meet the trapped hunters. It had begun.

With her Long Sword Dark Weaver still at her left side, Finarsil solemnly slung her Long Bow across her back, as she simultaneously summoned her Ye' Cind Flute from its hidden pouch in her Bracer of Ye' Cind on her right wrist.

The revelation of 'True Seeing' from the Shaman Odyson brought with it a mixture of relief, as well as despair, in knowing that certain aspects of the bridge and pillars bore safe passage, but the knowledge that the Hunter Elves were hanging near death from the Leeches was a bit unnerving.

Finarsil was no novice, nor were her companions, as seemingly with one mind and one accord they all knew that the fate of the hanging Hunter Elves was in their hands, in spite of their urgency to locate and liberate their friend Galen and the Triplets.

The High Elf Bard did not need to voice her actions as she stepped forward to take her place in the most advantageous position to help Jarenion ease the Hunter Elves to the ground with their combined 'Feather Fall' spells, in harmony with Arien and Lun, as the abilities of the latter two carried them aloft to free the Hunter Elves from their unwanted hanging state!

Finarsil was ready to play a tune on her Ye' Cind Flute that would help bring healing to the Hunter Elves, after they were freed by Arien and Lun, then gently lowered to the bridge floor with the combined 'Feather Fall' spells of both herself and the Mage Jarenion.

She gripped the Flute with both hands as she concentrated on the task at hand, casting 'Feather Fall' in unison with Jarenion, as each Hunter Elf was freed by the combined efforts of Arien and Lun.

There would be time soon enough to play the appropriate tune to aid either her companions or the victims of the Leeches, whichever became more needful once the Hunter Elves were 'safely' deposited on the bridge floor.

((OOC: Finarsil will be postioned as far to the rear behind Jarenion as possible to still effectively utilize her 'Feather Fall' spells [however many times the spell needs to be cast to help lower the Hunter Elves safely and as gently as possible to the floor of the stone bridge] and be in a position where the remainder of her comrades are able to provide a modicum of protection and cover against any type of surprise attack, while she and her comrades attempt to help rescue the Hunter Elves from the evil fate of being hung by Leeches!))

The party discussed the plan. Arien and Lun would move up and help to cut down the hunters, Jarenion would cast his spells to ease their descent. The thought of leeches was revolting, but of greater worry was the overall situation.

To the knight, this was obviously a trap. And yet, there was no way they could bypass it in good conscience; just hours ago, Arien had bid his son to help those who could not help themselves; he could not have dreamed up a situation that met that criteria any more obviously.

And so, they would spring the trap, and deal with the consequences a they came. Still, they need not do so unaware.

"Beware, my friends," the knight spoke in a clipped tone. "I would bet my spurs that this is a trap... not that it changes anything."

With a word, Liun'naur ignited into blue flame, and the knight began to levitate up.

The die is cast and the plan is set as Arien and Lun move upwards towards the hanging Hunters. The rest of the party waits beneath on or near the bridge where they can watch and prepare for ...well anything. The two adventurers reach about 40 feet up when something happens suddenly.

The six bodies fall, or rather the "ropes" that holds then lengthen and they drop about ten feet dangling on blank tentacles covered with small suckers and barbs on them. Then the serpent like appendages reel back and with a snap, hurl the bodies of the hunters in unison at the party below.

Now unburdened from their former prey; the black tentacles move toward the Knight and the Priestess with lightening like speed.

OOC: You are in combat. I need actions posted. Remember if you are on the ground, you are under bombardment by dead bodies.

Jarenion exhaled and watched as Arien and Lun began to float upward to where the Hunters of Celene were suspended. Between readying his spell and keeping a watchful eye on the knight and cleric - along with trying to pay some semblance of attention to the remainder of his surroundings, as well - the mage hadn't realized that he had yet to replenish his breath until, as Arien and Lun reached an altitude just passed midway to the hunters, the mage sharply sucked that near-forgotten breath in through clenched teeth as the half dozen edhelie suddenly dropped and were flung at the party,

"Tanya naa n'quel,*" the mage muttered with that breath. He took a step or two back as his thoughts abandoned the feather fall spell which had occupied them and, quicker than thought could register, mentally scrolled through his spellbook in search of something more applicable.

There still the chance to save, at least, some of the hunters and, perhaps, in the doing, also shield some of his companions from the projectiles which his countrymen had become. His slender fingers dipped into a belt pouch and came out with a bit of spiders web and, just as quickly, the incantation flowed from mind to mouth to material. His breath blew across the webbing and, on the last word, the strands left the mage's fingertips and flew toward the columns to comply with his arcane commands.

Jarenion's gaze flitted upward, again, as his mind chased the next spell,

((OOC: *(Translated from elven): "That's not good."

As for actions, as discussed in the Q&A, I've opted to cast Web utilizing the pillars and floors/walls as anchor points in hopes of 1) shielding at least some of the party from the bombardbodies and 2) perhaps catching/saving some of those plummeting point ears.

Jarenion's next actions will be Dependent on the outcome of the web spell. If it's successful, they'll likely involve magic missile against one or more of the tentacles above. If it's not, *shrugs*, I'm not 100% sure, yet.))

Finarsil had slung her Long Bow across her back and summoned her Ye' Cind Flute from its hidden pouch inside the Bracer of Ye' Cind on her right wrist.

She had taken a position to help Jarenion, standing ready to cast a 'Feather Fall' spell to help lower the unfortunate Hunter Elves from their precarious predicament, while ever alert to react to the unexpected.

Her Flute and the High Elf Bard had become as one over the years, through good times and bad, their years of experience together causing them to harmonize as one entity in times of trouble!

As she watched Arien and Lun spring into action to help free the Hunter Elves, the drama unfolding above her head qualified not only as a 'bad time', but a 'time of trouble'!

The six bodies fall, or rather the "ropes" that holds then lengthen and they drop about ten feet dangling on blank tentacles covered with small suckers and barbs on them. Then the serpent like appendages reel back and with a snap, hurl the bodies of the hunters in unison at the party below.

Now unburdened from their former prey; the black tentacles move toward the Knight and the Priestess with lightening like speed.
The High Elf Bard and the Ye' Cind Flute flowed as one in reaction to the sudden peril hurtling towards the party below, as a 'Rally Tune' was called upon the Flute, blanketing the area with the notes and melodies of an Urgent Call to Arms!

((OOC: When a Rally is called on the Flute, allies gain +2 to hit, saving throws and +3 to morale.

Finarsil stands her ground as she continues to play her Flute in an effort to Rally Her Comrades and Aid Them in Their Time of Trouble!))

Kadrin was wary enough that his crossbow was cocked and loaded, his eye fixed not on his companions, but on the elven guardsmen. Memories of his own kin reanimated to life kept his finger steady on the trigger, ready to bury a bolt in any body that even looked like it might try to strike the priestess.

The sudden catapulting of the elf hunters by the tentacles was not exactly how he imagined this plan to work out. Sure, he had faced foes that would fling the bodies of his warriors back at his troops... but that was with actually seige craft, not rope.

"Son of a..." the scarred general muttered, firing a bolt at one of the tentacles seeking the fair priestess even as he tried to step side and dodge the incoming elf missiles.

[OOC: Kadrin will fire as many bolts as he can into one of tenacles, preferrably one that seems to be attacking the elf priestess while trying to dodge the incoming elves... he will not be looking to catch them.

If the tentacles begin to try and attack those of us on the ground, Kadrin will put away the crossbow in favour of his war hammer and shield, and will attempt to shield one of the spellcasters.]

As the group put its plan into motion, the tentacles did the same. So far it seemed the tentacles had a better plan. The bodies of the elvin hunters became deadly projectiles for both the hunters and anyone they hit. Sparrow knew that they were beyond saving but also that they would soon suffer no more. Judging as best she could the trajectory of the incoming bodies, she moved to avoid them while sending projectiles of her own back at the tentacles.

OOC: Shooting arrows at the tentacles

Her movement through the air met an abrupt stop as the glistening leeches struck out. Like spiders they waited until she and the knight drew near, and then hurled the dying elves toward them all. Relieved of their former prey, the tentacles reached out hungrily and slashed through the air with terrifying speed.

Sped by magical flight, Lun kept her distance from the writhing leeches as she spun through the air towards the rapidly descending elves. There was no way to save them all, but by the grace of the Goddess she would guide as many as she could to safety.

((OOC: Flying and trying to avoid the tentacles. Attempting to catch the falling elves. If possible she will guide as many as she can into Jarenion's web.))