Varuna smiles when he feels the warm healing touch of his Goddess flow through him to the Dog. He knows that she has compassion for all living things and he was glad that she didn’t mind this time to allow him to heal this faithful companion. “Thank you Sacred Mother!” He whispers.

Turning to Tal he nods and says, “I have stopped the bleeding, but he will need further healing.” Reaching into his bag again he starts pulling out small bags of items looking into them. “Lysora the Great One, in her infinite compassion, has allowed me to save him but her healing powers are normally reserved for people so it won’t return him fully to health.”

He finds a couple of bags he was looking for and sets them aside. Pulling out a small wooden bowl, a spoon, and his water skin; he starts to prepare a concoction by mixing water with some powders and herbs from the small bags. “I can make something up that will speed his internal healing, but if you have any ability to heal him it would help.”

As he makes the healing herb mixture, he looks up to where the others have detained their hostage; he listens to what the man says and sighs softly. He was always amazed at the human capacity for violence and killing; all of this anguish and death over gold.

He leaves the questioning to the others for now as he attends to his animal patient. While Varuna is compassionate to all living things, animals don’t usually come under his care. Only the fact that this animal is a loyal companion of one of the party makes it worthy of his attention now. When he attempted the healing he wasn’t sure that Lysora would answer his prayer, but even when she did he could tell that she wasn’t entirely pleased with the focus of his healing magic being an animal.

The healing draught complete, he looks to Tal and says, “If you get him to drink this it will speed his internal healing but it might also make him sleep,” he shrugged with a slight smile, “unfortunately we heal faster when completely at rest.”

He would assist Tal in whatever way he thought best to get Dog to drink the mixture. It would be a not so pleasant tasting drink but if he got everything right it should help him heal. ((Herbalism INT -2)). After Dog drinks the herbal drink (if he does) Varuna will put away his herbs and stuff, rinsing out the bowl with a little water from his water skin.

Leaving his patient to his master now, he will rise and shouldering his bag again, turns to their captive to hear what else they may have gotten out of him. Hopefully they can find out how many more of them there are up there at the lighthouse and if they are well armed?

Val gets up off the ground then shakes and dusts the sand off her clothes. Her inglorious dive to the dunes did not fill her with self-admiration, but then for her it was about staying alive and not interfering with others when it came to a fight that she could not contribute to. Still it ate at her sense of self worth.

Val joins En’Aranthea as she made her way easily enough over the ground with her longer stride. Val's only saving grace was she was a light weight. She figured she could at least help to tie the rogue up or keep a weapon on him except she didn't think he would be impressed with her weapon skill. Now it might works if she pointed her finger at him and speaks a short poem in Sylvari. She didn’t think the human would understand,

En’Aranthea gets to the man first. Val is just a step or two behind. She lets En’Aranthea do the talking while she stood off a bit but looked right at the man with a dark glower. Val hoped she looked dark and glowering and not like she had indigestion or something. This is something she was going to have to practice doing in a mirror—at another time.

Val looks over to En’Aranthea and says in the Common tongue, "If he makes a wrong move I will fry him where he stands." She then holds up her hands and weaves them together in what she hopes is a totally convincing manner and intones the words of her favorite short poem in Sylvari. It has a good sing song quality since it was so short. Hopefully En'Aranthea would not reveal her ruse when she hears Val’s incantation in Sylvari, "I never saw and purple cow. I never hope to see one, but I can tell you anyhow, I would rather see, than be one."

En’Aranthea was behind the captive, binding his hands, when Valendara spoke up. "If he makes a wrong move I will fry him where he stands." Fortunately, En’Aranthea’s face could not be seen by the man, as she was surprised by Valendara’s posturing. She continued her task of removing weapons and stooped to hobble the man’s ankles, and replied to Valendara in Sylvari, her tone mild.

“I’m not sure that’s necessary, my friend, as he appears firmly held by what our healer did. I did not think you were one to threaten a helpless person.”

Once Varuna’s spell fades, the man struggles a bit, but realizes that the ropes binding him are tied too well. "Aw right, then" he states. "Me an' Gob are a patrol. Cap'n Markos sends us out reg'lar as clockwork, 'e does. Mork an' Thull run a patrol like us, too." He grins, an unpleasant sight due to missing and greenish teeth. "Cap'n'll have 'em lookin' for you, now, seein' as how I won't be showin' up on time. 'Course, Gob got a good look at the lot of ya, so me mates'll know what to look for."

Apparently feeling there is no point in hiding anything, he continues to talk. "We light the light on the tower at night to get ships to run into the reefs. They sink, we row out, kill any surviviors, and take the loot. Cap'n's a genius... plenty 'o loot, and no need to risk our skin takin' it."

“What about the lighthouse keeper? What have you done with him,” En’Aranthea asked, her calm hiding a rising anger at the lives wasted by these wretches. The pirate gives a cruel grin. "Really now, what do you think 'appened to 'em?"

He pointedly looks the bladesinger up and down, a lewd expression on his face. "Tell ya what, luv... 'ow about you come visit me and my mates? I think you'd be right popular with the lads..."

En’Aranthea looks at him oddly at that, as the lewd reference escapes her, as she’s completely innocent, too young to have been awakened to love and it’s darker sisters. She refuses to let her anger over the dead influence her, however, as she was too well trained to be provoked into rash action.

“I will certainly be paying your “mates” a visit, and you will must definitely be joining us. As much as I’d prefer to drop you in a mudhole, that is not honourable.”

The bladesinger looked over to the two working over Dog. “How is our companion? Will we be able to move on? This man tells us that his colleagues will be coming for us soon, we must prepare and pick our ground to make a stand.”

With those words, she starts to look over her surroundings with an eye to strategy. Faced with greater numbers able to encircle them with crossbows, the group will need either higher ground, or some sort of barrier to protect one or more sides.

“How is he healer, is it bad? If you need it my power of healing is yours to use.”

Tal’Anor waited for a response from Varuna as to the state of Dog, his own wound all but forgotten

“I have stopped the bleeding, but he will need further healing.”

Reaching into his bag once again Varuna starts pulling out small bags of items looking into them.

“Lysora the Great One, in her infinite compassion, has allowed me to save him but her healing powers are normally reserved for people so it won’t return him fully to health.
I can make something up that will speed his internal healing, but if you have any ability to heal him it would help.”

“I have the power to heal some damage thanks to the grace of my Goddess, Oriana. Let me help him.”

Quickly removing his armored gloves Tal laid his hands upon Dog.

“I call to you my love, let your powers of healing run through me and heal my friend for he and I need you now.”

As he stood from his healing the Paladin heard his cousins call.

“How is our companion? Will we be able to move on? This man tells us that his colleagues will be coming for us soon, we must prepare and pick our ground to make a stand.”

(OOC: Assuming the healing goes ok)

With Dog back on his feet, if a little unsteady as yet, Tal made his way over to En’Aranthea’s side and spoke to her in Sylvari.

“So what do you plan Cousin should I charge them as is my nature, to give you a distraction. Or bellow a challenge from below them I do make a good target for crossbows it seems”

This was of course said in jest to her to lighten the mood before they would have to face the men holding the lighthouse. Yes all in this company by now knew that the Paladin’s dry sense of humor truly left something to desire. Yet he used what little humor he did have to try to make all feel relaxed and ready for the combat ahead so in truth it it was not all bad but close.

As Tal again waited for a response from a party member he gave a silent prayer of thank you to his Goddess and one true love for her help with Dog. Oh how he wished she would visit him again one day. But for now a task lay ahead and he would not falter.....

12th Pfier (Fallday), 452 E.R.
Edge of the dunes

Tal'Anor prays to the goddess of love, and she answers her servant with her healing power, knitting together the rest of Dog's torn flesh. The creature seems quite healthy now, though still understandably a bit tired.

The pirate seems quite amused by en'Aranthea's declarations of honor. "Honor?" he cackles. "Haw, haw, haw! Dead is dead, sweet thang! Corpses don't tell folks whether they was stabbed in the back or tha face... last time I checked, they don't care! Besides, missy, you took me out of your warlock friend's trickery, not 'cause you bested me in some fair fight! Where's the honor in that, eh?"

The party discovers that the terrain here comes very close to defining the absolute worst possible location in terms of defensibility - there is no true high ground, and the vegetation and dunes provide far too much cover for ambushing attackers. Nevertheless, there is little to do but to make do as best you can.

A large dune is located as the best possible ground to put your backs up against, and so, you do. The prisoner chuckles at your precautions, and is full of "helpful" observations. "Ask, me," he says, "you'd do better to tromp of through tha swamp, take yar chances with tha beasties, afore Cap'n Markos gets hold of ya! 'E always loves it when some fool decides to fight... ya'd be surprised tha kind 'o noises a soul can make, what when they hurt bad enough..."

The party has to resort to iron rations, since a fire would easily give away their position. "If the lot of you are so honorable," the pirate asks, "Why not just let me go, then? That'd be a right honorable thing ta do, I think!"

At one point, a small branch cracks not far from the campsite, causing the warriors to spring up, blades drawn, but no attack is forthcoming. Hours pass, night deepens, and still, no attack comes.

The night passes with you taking fitful watches, but no attack ever presents itself.

"Honor?" The pirate cackles. "Haw, haw, haw! Dead is dead, sweet thang! Corpses don't tell folks whether they was stabbed in the back or tha face... last time I checked, they don't care! Besides, missy, you took me out of your warlock friend's trickery, not 'cause you bested me in some fair fight! Where's the honor in that, eh?"

En’Aranthea knew better than to be bothered by the man’s taunting, she recognized it as the only weapon he had left. She eyed him with as much noble disdain she’d ever witnessed at Court and replied, “The difference is that you are not dead, and still have a chance to make something of your short and miserable life. Of course, it is such a short life, it is a wonder you can do anything of significance besides evil.”

She’d hoped for a more defensible place for the night, but made the best of things. She asked each person for the watch that would suit them, knowing that Varuna and Valendara (and indeed, perhaps even her cousin) may have needs around their clerical devotions or magely studies. She herself took the least desirable watches, and spent her rest time in the dreamless trance state of her race.

After a bit more of the pirate’s “helpful” interjections, she asked Tal’Anor to gag the man, thinking that finding a mudhole may not have been such a bad idea after all. As they broke the morning fast with more of the iron rations, she gave a portion of hers to the pirate, removing the gag and feeding him so that she needn’t untie his hands.

“I suppose I could send you back through the swamps, to let the Sla’kar mete out their own justice for you and your friends, but you’ll just head back to your “mates”. You’ll stick with us, then, until we can turn you over to the authorities in town.”

OOC: If no one else has any objections, Ena will continue on towards the lighthouse as originally planned. Knowing that there are patrols alerted to their presence, she’ll ask the party of they have any means of scouting ahead undetected, magical or otherwise (oh, to have a ranger in the party lol!!)

Varuna is glad to see Tal use some healing from his Goddess to heal the dog the rest of the way. He smiles and take off his large floppy hat and wipes sweat from his brow. Over hearing the conversation of the pirate he walks over as he sets his hat back on his head letting the large floppy brim sag down to partially obscure his eyes.

The pirate seems quite amused by en'Aranthea's declarations of honor. "Honor?" he cackles. "Haw, haw, haw! Dead is dead, sweet thang! Corpses don't tell folks whether they was stabbed in the back or tha face... last time I checked, they don't care! Besides, missy, you took me out of your warlock friend's trickery, not 'cause you bested me in some fair fight! Where's the honor in that, eh?"
He chuckles a bit at that, “I wouldn’t be too sure about what corpses can tell you, I have seen priests of my order make the dead talk and give up their secrets.” He smiled. “It was not trickery that bested you,” he shrugged, “we all have different weapons and use them as we may.”

“You fire upon us as soon as you seen us then turned and ran so it doesn’t seem like you were up to fighting fair either,” he smirked.

He didn’t know why he tried, there was no talking to such people. Murderers, thieves, killing for sport or gold. Such a sad state of affairs.

_________

As they moved on he kept a close eye out for trouble and was surprised when they made camp. He took his turn at the watch, asking for the last watch in the morning. He would pray to Lysora as he waited for the dawn. He would wake everyone just as the dawn sky started to lighten and ate his iron rations sparingly.

He was glad when they gagged the pirate as he was sure that he would give away their position at the first opportunity. He asked to take charge of their captive as they got underway again. He tied a short length of rope to the mans hand bound behind him and with his mace prodded him in the back, “Move along and if you attempt anything I will rap you smartly on the head.”

When En’Aranthea asks if anyone can scout ahead, he shrugs, “Only on foot I am afraid, I don’t have any magic that will help us see what is over the next rise.”

Val moves along with En’Aranthea and their prisoner. Her attempt to intimidate him had not seemed to be very successful. She had seen the look on En’Aranthea’s face. At first it looked a bit surprised and then when she faked her spell, En’Aranthea’s face sort of went blank. Ah, well this was something she was going to have to practice before trying again. She just couldn’t figure out how to make herself more intimidating. She was short even for a Sylvari and slender. And her face was youthful, not even yet the ageless face of a mature Sylvari, just plain young.

Later in the simple cold camp they had made, Val moves over to En’Aranthea to explain about her failed ruse.

“Thank you for not laughing at my fake spell. I have so few spells to use each day and I was hoping to pretend to have one ready so I could intimidate him into telling us what we wanted to know. The only thing I could think of was to fake a spell.” Val explained to En’Aranthea with a wry grin and a bit of chagrin about her failed plan “It didn’t work very well, actually not at all. But at least it was something I could do.” The real truth of her attempts to help was made clearer when she added, “Everyone else was capable of doing something, in the fight and afterwards. All I could do was dive down to the ground to make myself less a target and then fake casting a spell.” Val’s voice drops. “Not a very illustrious response on my part. Thanks again for your straight face; I don’t think I could have handled being laughed at, not just then. Now is it sort of funny.” Val looks up and smiles slightly. “I will try to do next time.”

When En’Aranthea asks who wants to be on what watch Val responds, “For me first or last watch is best.

With the night over and no attack from the lighthouse it was once again time to move forward towards it.

“Ena are we ready or do we wait for something”

Tal was ready for a fight he had almost lost Dog to these people and though it was not so much revenge it was more a need to show those at the lighthouse the error of their ways.
Taking the lead for the moment he lead the party forward.

(Yeah short post been distracted somewhat this week sorry)

13th Pfier (Valday), 452 E.R.
Edge of the dunes

The group makes their way across the dunes towards the lighthouse, which stands alone on a rocky promontory. Several hundred yards away, you can see the wooden tower constructed by the pirates, but at the moment, no movement is visible around it. Fortunately, the terrain between the lighthouse and the tower is broken by several large dunes - the kind that have apparently been here for some time, judging by the vegetation sprouting from them.

The lighthouse itself stands close to sixty feet tall, and is contructed of grey stone. A quick patrol reveals no pirates - or living things larger than birds - in the immediate vicintiy. An oaken door stands open in the front of the lighthouse itself, permitting easy access the the interior.

DM's note: assuming that you will want to explore...
The ground level consists of several rooms, the first of which is an entry hall - furnished with a table under which sit four pairs of boots. Several coat hooks sit empty in the wall.

There is a kitchen and dining area, as well as a pantry, also on the first floor. The pantry has been cleaned out of any usable supplies, and the kitchen cupboards are bare; all cooking an eating utensils ahev been stolen.

Following the stairs up, you find several empty rooms. One is a bedroom containing an adult sized bed and a bookshelf, the contents of which are scattered across the floor. Another is a workshop of some sort, with the sort of tools one would expect to find in the possession of a glassblower. Most of the items here are broken or badly damaged.

There is a sitting room, with two comfortable chairs and a small bag full of knitting supplies on the ground. Lastly, you discover the master bedroom. A double bed dmominates this room, and a wardrobe stands open and empty. A night table lies on its side, and clothes are strewn everywhere. The smell of death hangs heavy in the air - due obviously to the body of a woman that lies in the corner of the room. A large, dark brown stain covers the ground under the body.

Still more stairs lead up, to another floor. The first room you discover is an empty storage room (nothing inside but broken crates). Next is a playroom, with wooden toys scattered on the ground. Also are two heartbreaking discoveries - two children's bedrooms, each also heavy with the scent of death. Much like the master bedroom below, the wardorbes are emptied of their clothing (which lies scattered across the floor), and both contain rotting bodies. The younger child (perhaps six years of age) lies dead among scattered toys, the older (perhaps twelve) beneath a pile of his own clothing.

The top floor of the lighthouse houses the lamp itself; not surprisingly, broken glass shards of the mirrors lie scattered across the floor. The lighthouse lamp is damaged beyond repair, and any oil that may have been stored here has been carried away.

The lighthouse is, in short, a scene of desolation, despair, and death.

Varuna trudged across the dunes prodding their captive in the back with his pace every time the man slowed. Seeing the lighthouse and the pirates fortifications in the distance he tugged on the man’s guide rope and pressed his mace more firmly into his back, “Don’t think to cry out to your friends, they are far too distant and it isn’t worth the headache you would receive for trying,” he grinned.

As the group entered the lighthouse, Varuna steeled himself for what he feared might be a gruesome scene, but as they went further and higher into the lighthouse it was far worse then he had imagined.

There is a sitting room, with two comfortable chairs and a small bag full of knitting supplies on the ground. Lastly, you discover the master bedroom. A double bed dominates this room, and a wardrobe stands open and empty. A night table lies on its side, and clothes are strewn everywhere. The smell of death hangs heavy in the air - due obviously to the body of a woman that lies in the corner of the room. A large, dark brown stain covers the ground under the body.

Still more stairs lead up, to another floor. The first room you discover is an empty storage room (nothing inside but broken crates). Next is a playroom, with wooden toys scattered on the ground. Also are two heartbreaking discoveries - two children's bedrooms, each also heavy with the scent of death. Much like the master bedroom below, the wardorbes are emptied of their clothing (which lies scattered across the floor), and both contain rotting bodies. The younger child (perhaps six years of age) lies dead among scattered toys, the older (perhaps twelve) beneath a pile of his own clothing.
As the carnage worsened he involuntarily tightened his grip on the captive pirate till the man was wincing in pain, “Easy mate.” the man finally said. It would have been better if the man had remained silent. At his words Varuna seemed to snap out of his astonishment, he whirled on the man and grabbed him by the collar and drew him tightly to him till he was nose to nose with him, “What are you people? Who would do such a thing to a woman and her children?”

The pirate shrugged, “Nothing personal mate, just business.”

Varuna snarled at him, “Business? Let me show you what it is like.” He roughly hauled the man up the final flight of stairs, practically dragging him till they reached the top level. He pulled him out onto the parapet and dragged him to the edge and stopped holding him against the old railing as he set his mace down.

“Vermin such as you are not human, “ Varuna said in barely checked rage, “you slaughter others like animals and so you should be treated like diseased animals and put to death.” With his last words he shoved the guy over the railing but as the man screamed out as he fell, Varuna held on to the rope still bound tightly to the captive. He held on as the man dangled only a few feet over the 60 foot drop to the ground. “Do you like that feeling? Do you like knowing that you are about to die?” he yelled over the edge as he strained to hold the man. “This is what your victims feel right before you slaughter them, not a nice feeling is it?”

The man screams from the pain of the rope biting into him and the thought that he is about to plummet to his death. Varuna holds him there for a few long seconds, struggling against his desire to let the man fall to his death and his beliefs in not taking a life.

(Continued below)

The Sylvari, for all their long lives, were surrounded by death: even more so did bladesingers know that a natural passing was an unlikely fate for those who lived by the sword. In En’Aranthea’s short time at Megilindar Nost, she’d been summoned to the Oak of Remembrance a score of times to witness the appearance of new name among it’s branches: another fallen bladesinger in the service of the Speaker of the Stars. Even so, death had been remote, a possibility that occurred elsewhere, and to others.

As Ena’Arenthea moved through the desolate lighthouse, viewing its carnage, she felt sadness and despair rising, filling every mote of her being and slowing her limbs. Perhaps her teachers, especially her beloved Kiirar, had been right: she was not ready for the world. Fighting skills, diplomatic arts and oratory gifts counted for little in the face of such heartless and needless death, and she was unprepared to face the enormity of it.

It was the children that were the hardest to take. The Sylvari sheltered their precious and rare young with zealous care, and few as young as Ena’Aranthea were ever allowed outside of the Great Forests. To see the tiny bodies sprawled like broken toys, cast aside by a giant and careless hand, was too much for the young Sylvari to bear, and tears spilled unheeded down pale cheeks.

Ena’Aranthea was lost to the world as Varuna reacted to his own emotions and began to treat the prisoner roughly. It was only instinct that had her follow the cleric as he berated the pirate, pulling him up the stairs to the lighthouse’s highest floor. Seeing Varuna push the man over the parapet, broke through her misery, however, and she sprang forward to catch at the rope, not realizing Varuna’s intent to scare rather than to kill.

“No!” she cried, “We cannot do this. We will not sink to their level! Remember your vows to the Goddess, Varuna!”

OOC: I could post more, but Varuna’s taken a pretty significant action in game play, so I defer to the DM to determine the outcome. Can’t assume that the fellow isn’t heavier than Varuna can hold, or that Ena’s actions won’t tip the balance and cause what she seeks to prevent.

Seeing Varuna push the man over the parapet, broke through her misery, however, and she sprang forward to catch at the rope, not realizing Varuna’s intent to scare rather than to kill.

“No!” she cried, “We cannot do this. We will not sink to their level! Remember your vows to the Goddess, Varuna!”
Ena’Aranthea’s words sink in as she grabs the rope to help him hold the man from falling. He looks at her, tears streaming down his face at the despair that has gripped him and he nods as he feels his Goddess presence inside him, “You are right! Even for someone as low as this one it is not within my right to take his life.”

He begins to haul the man back in with Ena’Aranthea’s help and drags him up roughly and drops him on the ledge as he pants from the exertion. He retrieves his mace and leans over the crying pirate as the man lays there whimpering thanks to them for his life, “If you want to thank someone, Thank Lysora, the Sacred Mother of Us All for it was her hand that stopped me from killing you just now.”

Varuna stepped back out of reach and sat down with his back to the lighthouse as he watched the man. He tried to calm his own emotions and silently prayed to the Sacred Mother to forgive him his moments of transgression. He had wanted to kill the man just now, it went against all his beliefs but in the end it was the love of his Goddess that stayed his hand.

He looked up to the Elvin Bladesinger and said, “Perhaps someone else should watch over our captive so he does not come to further harm.” he smiled slightly, “I fear my patience with him is near it’s end.”

When he calmed himself he would rise and look over at the Pirates fortifications and ask the others, “Well, how do we drive out those vermin?” He sounded as if he wanted revenge for what had transpired here, retribution for the lives that had been needlessly taken.


(OOC: Have adjusted previous post and added this one to fit in Ena’Aranthea’s actions. The results are the same either way. )

Val follows the others up into the lighthouse. As they ascend the stairs of the wooden lighthouse she over active imagination sees many possibilities concerning not only what has happened here already but also what might happen. She tries to fight against them and not let the negative thoughts overwhelm her. This sort of gritty in your face here and now is not anything she is familiar with or has any experience of.

Of course happen to the occupants her. Perhaps they were captives of the pirates anyway she hoped they were still alive. She moves after the others as they went from level to level. The odor of death increase the air as the group entered what was obviously a bedroom. Val liked the edge of her hood across her lower face. She really had wished she could cover her eyes as well. Death came to all eventually but violent death of innocents was something that she had seldom encountered. The woman’s body was huddled in the corner. Val could imagine her terror as she begged for her life to no avail. That moment when she knew death was coming Val shuddered.

Val trailed the other as they went up again this time to another room. The smell of death had not diminished. As the others entered the room Val hung back at the door fearing what would be found. The smell of death was strong in here too. When the bodies of the children were discovered and uncovered she was heart sick. There was no excuse for harming children. Her main refuse to contemplate the terror they must have experienced.

Val closed her eyes and offered a prayer for their souls. Not usually a vindictive person none-the-less, the harrow of these deaths made her asks for retribution on the souls of those who had committed these heinous acts. As the others moves up the stairs Val’s attention was drawn elsewhere.

Taking linens from the beds she began to wrap up each body into a sheet and then rolling it up in several layers in a blanket. She laid their enshrouded bodies next to each other and went down to the mother and shrouded her body as well.

Had Val gone above with the others she might have encouraged Varuna to let the man hang there until he died. Especially after he said that killing them was just business. Luckily she was spared all of that drama and a possible soul turning decision. As it was she did the best she could not knowing human burial customs—there were so many different ones. When she finishes she heads downstairs. She does not like to be in the tower the higher she went the more trapped she felt. The great wooden structure that was the lighthouse was nothing like climbing the large trees in the Sylvari forest. This placed closed one in, just like the mother and her two children had been trapped, with no way to escape.

The way to the lighthouse had been almost as if a scenic stroll in a disheveled garden as no enemy rose to face them.
Once they had reached the tower it was no trouble to gain entrance to it and so the 4 of them and their prisoner moved inside. The tower for the most part was the same as many before and after it with a ground level consisting of several rooms, and an entry hall, a kitchen and dining area and an empty pantry cleaned out of any usable supplies, the kitchen cupboards bare.

With a look to his cousin and her nod of ok he led them up to the 2nd floor to find several empty rooms, a bedroom containing an adult sized bed and a bookshelf, the contents of which scattered across the floor. A second, clearly a workshop of some sort, with the sort of tools one would expect to find in the possession of a glassblower, yet most of the items broken or badly damaged.

Moving deeper into the second floor the party found a sitting room and finally the master bedroom and the body of a dead women flung to the ground as if a piece of meat. Tal’Anor with a hand raised to stop anyone else from entering moved to the body of the dead women. A somewhat clean sheet taken from the bed he took hold of the body and wrapping it in the sheet repositioned it in respect.

“May the Goddess Oriana watch over you in the hereafter and may your soul find its peace among the heavens.”

With that done Tal moved to rejoin the others and with them, Ena now in the lead, moved up yet still more stairs to another floor. The first room before them an empty storage room, the next a playroom, with wooden toys scattered on the ground and after that two children's bedrooms, each also heavy with the scent of death. Tal knew what awaited them and tried to stop the rest from entering to see the horror before them but due to his position now at the rear of the party it was to no avail. Two children once so alive now dead their young lives as that of women, clearly the mother, taken from them violently.
In front of the Paladin Varuna seeing the dead children went into a rage grabbing the prisoner by the collar and drew him roughly to him until they was nose to nose

“What are you people? Who would do such a thing to a woman and her children?”

The pirate shrugged,

“Nothing personal mate, just business.”

Varuna snarled at him

“Business? Let me show you what it is like.”

Varuna roughly hauled the man up the final flight of stairs, practically dragging him till they reached the top level. He pulled him out onto the parapet and dragged him to the edge and stopped holding him against the old railing as he set his mace down.

“Vermin such as you are not human, you slaughter others like animals and so you should be treated like diseased animals and put to death.”

Before anyone could stop him the Cleric threw the prisoner out upon the towers side to hang by the rope held in Varuna‘s hands.

“Do you like that feeling? Do you like knowing that you are about to die? This is what your victims feel right before you slaughter them; not a nice feeling is it?”

Tal moved to stop the Cleric from killing the man, though perhaps deserving of death, it would parley no favor with Varuna’s patron to do so in cold blood. But as before Ena’s quickness thanks to her training as a Bladesinger beat him.

“No!” she cried

”We cannot do this. We will not sink to their level! Remember your vows to the Goddess, Varuna.

With his rage ebbing it was easy for Ena’Aranthea to calm him down and pull the man to safety. Leaving the two to themselves for the moment he turned to take care of the children as he had done for the mother to find that Valendara had beat him to it.

“Thank you Val, but I must ask you to step outside as I must say a prayer for them to the Goddess Oriana to watch over them in the heavens.”

Moving next to the wrapped bodies Tal laid his hands upon each and prayed.

“My lady Oriana take the souls of these two lost children, show them the way and lead them back into the light of your love. Show them their lives were not lived in vain and they shall be missed by at least I your mortal lover.”

With the prayer over Tal and the others reached the towers top to find the lamp itself broken, glass shards scattered everywhere across the floor. The lighthouse lamp is damaged beyond repair, and any oil that may have been stored here has been carried away. The tower once a needed gateway to safe passages now just a destroyed Tower of Death.

Turning to Ena he awaited the parties’ next move....