“Thank you for your care, Brother Moreno,” the platinum-haired woman chuckles in answer, “but Garn and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves.”

Ch’dau offers a chuff as faint as his nod at the nakedness of that statement but says nothing else. The warrior-priest dips his head in simple acceptance of the fact and calmly looks to Aranwen.

“We should return to the site of Kith's ambush as soon as we are able,” Gib advises, “There was one who was a victim to the horde before Kith even arrived and we've left some valuable weapons there that I would like to retrieve…”

Another grunt and nod of concurrence come from the Kazari.

“…Perhaps searching the remains of the undead will also reveal some further insight into this horrific puzzle as well.

I'm spent, as I am sure Cedric and Midge are as well, so if we could manage a period of sustainable rest, that too would be appreciated.”

“I assume that you are speaking of the priest of D'hurgen,” Davena interjects at the mention of the other victim, “The one leading this horde of the living dead? We slew him ourselves in the hopes of dispersing this lot…”

Eyes widening with the revelation from the beautiful woman, Therassor's priest considers this new information. Thinking back to what he had been able to make of the scene, he cannot recall whether he had seen any more fallen corpses and there were the two ghouls that they still had to contend with. Brow furrowing, Moreno's shoulders stiffen. If they were at the scene and had dispatched the priest responsible for that horde, why not then take care of the horde instead of allowing it to wander. Two women experienced horrible acts in the same number of days by these strange ghouls; why would anyone who truly wishes to stop the atrocities allow the undead to continue to roam knowing such a thing was possible? Atharis had lost his life and many of Gib's friends—and he himself—had nearly joined him in the Halls of the Dead!

“…As for your equipment and rest,” Davena carries on, unaware of the rising anger in the warrior-priest, “I would suggest that you see to your gear, then let us find a defensible spot to heal and recover your magics. Agreed?"

“I agree that we should reclaim our weapons,” the Kazari chuffs flatly, his arms folding across his chest drawing a glance from the warrior-priest, “and that, after this, we could all use a rest.” 

If there's one thing Gib had learned from his time in the military, it is that leading with strategy wins more often than not and that haphazard or emotionally-driven responses usually end in disaster. Repeatedly clenching and unclenching his jaw, Moreno refrains from challenging the decisions of the two who had just saved their lives. Breathing in the stench-ridden air through his nose in deep rivers of cool, the priest calms himself and addresses Aranwen once more. 

"Let us be quick about searching these," Gib sweeps his hand across the battlefield, his voice becoming less filled with iron as he continues, "and then set them ablaze somewhere that will not create a further hazard in these woods. We best not leave any corpse lying about lest diseases become another evil we must contend with. Once we are done with that work, we can collect our discarded equipment and do as suggested. I know it is dark and we are all weary, but this is my council, my friend."

(OOC: INTENT - search the undead, pile the undead in a place where they are least likely to set the forest afire and set them burning [if possible], retrieve his crossbow, search the undead there, search the priest of D'hurgen thus verifying that he is who Davina and Garn claim him to be as well as attempting to determine how he died, then finally set watches with the others and get what sleep he can).

*     *     *     *     *

Drugged by a lack of sleep, Moreno is shocked to find himself waking up at his usual time. Habits truly are strong, he ponders as he forces himself to repair from his slumber and organize his gear. Finishing his preparation, he moves to a secluded location near the camp and watchfully takes care of his morning business. Returning to his pack, he retrieves his scriptures and invites any who would like to join him in his devotions and services to Therassor. 

Fervent prayer and devotions are made to the Battle Lord. Moreno knows there is plenty more combat to come as Davina has stated is a possibility. Consideration is also given to the involvement of the priest of D'hurgen. The priest will consult with his Solanis counterpart on what they know of the Church of D'hurgen as well as brainstorming on the reasons behind the unlawful activities. Any of the company is welcome to join in that discussion as most of it will take place over the breaking of their night's fast. Before the party sets off, Gib addresses Davena.

"If I may ask," he begins. "when and where did you learn of this undead activity and the possible location of its center? Any knowledge that you can share now will be highly useful to us as it would appear that we have a mutual goal."

I don't know what you people are talking about. They are sent by Therassor to aid us in righteous battle!

I'll check with some peoples I know and see if anyone is interested in picking up the role of Midge. Don't hold your breath.

Stay safe, Blackthorne.

Excellent song... excellent band.

@ "I told you so."

Insect people! Miniature dinosaurs! Ewoks!

Once again we hear them calling for war
It doesn't matter what they're fighting for
They light the match and watch the whole world burst into flame
The story's always the same
So tell me people are you ready to kill?
Behold the propaganda, get your fill
A distant enemy is threatening our freedom again
How much would you like to spend?

Millions are falling inline
And it's just a matter of time
Endless destruction will ensure their pockets are lined
For all time

No more defending the lies
Behind the never-ending war
It's time to make them realize
We will no longer be their whore

No more, no more
No more, no more
No more, no more

They don't care about the blood on their hands
Look at the world and you will understand
They count the money as the innocent continue to bleed
They're always planting the seed
So tell me people are you ready to die?
Without believing in the reason why
They paint a picture and the whole damn world is deceived
It's all that they ever need

Millions keep falling inline
It's only a matter of time
Sowing destruction will make sure their pockets are lined
For all time

No more defending the lies
Behind the never-ending war
It's time to make them realize
We will no longer be their whore

No more defending the lies
Behind the never-ending war
It's time to make them realize
We will no longer be their whore

No, it can't be disguised anymore
How they smile as we pay for their war

No more defending the lies
Behind the never-ending war
It's time to make them realize
We will no longer be their whore

No more defending the lies
Behind the never-ending war
It's time to make them realize
We will no longer be their whore

No more, no more
No more, no more
No more, no more

You and I
Long to live like the wind upon the water
If we close our eyes, we'll maybe realize
There's more to life than what we have known
And I can't believe I've spent so long
Living lies I knew were wrong inside
I've just begun to see the light

Long ago there was a dream
Had to make a choice or two
Leaving all I loved behind
For what nobody knew
Stepped out on the stage, a life
Under lights and judging eyes
Now the applause has died and I
Can dream again

Is there anybody listening?
Is there anyone that sees what's going on?
Read between the lines
Criticize the words they're selling
Think for yourself and feel the walls
Become sand beneath your feet

Feel the breeze?
Time's so near you can almost taste the freedom
There's a warm wind from the south
Hoist the sail and we'll be gone
By morning this will all seem like a dream
And if I don't return to sing the song
Maybe just as well
I've seen the news and there's
Not much I can do...alone

Is there anybody listening?
Is there anyone who smiles without a mask?
What's behind the words-images
They know will please us?
I'll take what's real. Bring up the lights

Is there anybody listening?
Is there anyone that sees what's going on?
Read between the lines
Criticize the words they're selling
Think for yourself and feel the walls
Become sand beneath your feet

So... Giddy will be on leave starting Thursday of next week (I believe). We may see a post during that time.

I've posted.

"This looks like a science vessel.." She seemed to speak more to herself than the rest but they could hear her clearly, "they have stasis beds... perhaps an error message.." She hummed to herself before turning to the rest, "These ones have backup medical batteries.. there could be people in stasis. Good thing I'm coming aboard then. You'll probably need me."

"Once we git over there, stick close t' me, Doc. Can't afford no trouble catchin' you sideways."

Jonah grimaced and turned to Wolf, "Well you look mighty fine in that slicker and the iron your packing but you heard the man...Bullet...we got things to do if'n you can keep your mind on business." Pops glanced at the young Doc as she looked out at the Demeter and smiled. "Them EV suits ain't gonna load themselves."

Captain had made his decision and the order were given. There was work to do and no one had any reason to hang around. EVA suits to prep and a shuttle to launch, not to mention what equipment to take in case you needed to repair or rig the Demeter to work.

Sung tracks down Ivy and when he makes sure that no one else is about, he dips his head and looks her in the eyes from beneath concerned brows, "You OK, Ivy-girl? You tuned int' that radio pretty hard."

Ivy looks up at the captain and smiles sadly, “Yeah. No. I don’t know. It is like I am hearing a conversation caught on a recording that is years old. Stains. You spill something dark and it leaves a stain and no matter how long you wash it or soak it, the stain is there. Even bleach only hides the stain, but it is there. Can people become stains?” She stands up from the couch and looks at Wyatt with eyes sad from too my pain in too short a life, “I wish I was normal, Captain. I don’t mean to be a burden.”

"Ivy," Wyatt's expression softens. "don't you ever wish you was normal. The 'Verse gave you a gift. We jus' gotta figure out how It wants you t' use it proper."

“I think I will go to the exercise room and do a workout. It usually makes me feel better and focuses my mind back to what’s real.” She responds making quote marks with her hands when she says the word real, “Just a quick one, I’ll be ready when you need me.”

"I'm takin' everyone over with me," Sung acknowledges, stepping aside so she has an easier path past him. "You'll be left here alone an' I want you keepin' an eye on our sensors so you can warn us should something pop up on them. The controls'll be locked down, but you'll 'ave the code. Ain't no one comin' aboard 'less you let 'em. Dohn ma?"

(OOC: Ivy's response, if any.)

Swinging by his quarters, Wyatt considers what to take along. Sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs bouncing with anticipation; alone in his chambers, he allows these kinds of outward emotional displays. This whole situation has his superstitions standing up and trumpeting. The Demeter could be a ghost ship. It could have a crew in stasis. It could have a whole bunch of things and there's no way to be prepared for them all. 

Fox wasn't wrong to be concerned. Wyatt certainly is. He just can't show the rest of the crew. Shrugging out of his coat, Captain Sung slips his ballistic shirt over his ruddy red T-shirt. The EV Suit won't allow him to wear his beloved brown coat, so he moves on to his weapons. 

There's likely a vacuum... he considers, looking at his shotgun. Even the Colt will be useless until they can get the Demeter set right. Scowling, he tucks his Colt in the back of his waistband since he can't wear the holster and the EV suit. The only time he'll take the suit off is if they are successful at restoring artificial gravity, so he won't be able to access his weapon until then, but the gloves of the suit would make it nigh unto impossible to shoot the weapon anyway. Of course, his combat knife is a different story.

Snatching the sheathed weapon up in his left hand, Wyatt rises and grabs the ship-linked handset in his right. Leaving his hat and coat behind, the captain of Destiny makes his way to the shuttle. Once there, he dons one of the EV suits and searches for a way to attach his knife securely but still have it be accessible while he waits for the others. Once dressed, he checks to make sure that his handheld is working appropriately.

(OOC: When everyone is aboard and a doublecheck has been done to make sure the crew has everything they need...)

"Let's tempt Fate," Wyatt breathes. "Takes us to the Demeter."

No posts yet? Did my delay kill the momentum? Did we have momentum? 

You do good work, sir.

Wyatt dips his head in a simple nod to the doctor's assessment. "Once we git over there, stick close t' me, Doc. Can't afford no trouble catchin' you sideways."

With their plans laid, Sung tracks down Ivy and when he makes sure that no one else is about, he dips his head and looks her in the eyes from beneath concerned brows, "You OK, Ivy-girl? You tuned int' that radio pretty hard."

Post is up. Dice weren't kind. You have a couple of dilemmas to resolve before your search continues. Keeper, Ghlahn can attain that fire escape if he doesn't care if people see him, or I gave a couple of other options.

Any of you with visual splices will have HUD displays. Blossom has fed you the video stills of Rya.

X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, 12th Alley | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 8:55 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

As the group makes its way to the next stop, Charlie readies himself for an encounter with the second team that they’ve been informed is trying to get the boy. Weaving in and out of traffic with the aerodyne’s fans screaming under the pressure, he taps away on his agent performing a search under Rya Mendez hoping for photos like a NCDL (Night City Driver’s License), library card, high school photos, anything. 

“Hey, Bloss... can you find me some photos of this gal, Rya Mendez? I got face recognition running right now and I want to have the drone ready... best fifty credits spent this week.” Unfortunately, the fixer’s efforts are coming up been fruitless. 

“Bloss?” the netrunner raises her eyebrows and rolls the lolli to the other side of her mouth. “Open your bluetooth access, choombas. I’ll send you all the stills from the video.”

“Maybe drive around the block?” Echo leans forward and puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder to catch his attention. “That way we can get a look at the area and find ourselves a place to park this rig that’s a little less conspicuous.”

Chariles agrees with a dip of his head. If a group is waiting for them, then this might be the place. It’s best to be cautious. The fixer’s initial plan was to deploy the drone before they drove around the block, but as he considers the air traffic and the surroundings, he decides that it is best to give Ghlahn time to get into position. 

Pulling around the corner, he settles the Air Jeep in front of a diner’s large single pane window. The daily specials play across the glass in glowing bubble font. Sunday breakfast is a draw and the team can see that the facility is packed with people wearing their best dress. Not many appear to have vehicles though, because the parking spots in front of Grandma Dee’s Diner are empty. A sign reads, 30-Minute Parking M - F 7am - 6pm. There are no parking meters.

Charlie uses his NuCube and activates his audio splice earplugs, feeling the ear canals seal off and sound muffled. Tapping the side of his face and ears, he confirms their activation. Check. Next, he switches to his Amps and makes sure that his Anti-Dazzle is operating. An indicator on his HUD confirms that it is. Check. Switching on his Amped Vision he registers the HUD displays outlining people as his eyes pan over them. Check...nice, yup; Double-check. Turning on his Lowlite vision, he waits for the vision to clear up. Check. Next, Luther checks his Telescopic vision Amp, zooming in the whole 20x magnification down the street. Check.

Cranking on his Amped Audio, the fixer waits for the audio filters to kick in and clear up the excess noise. Turning on his Radio Link, he hears a faint female voice say, “Link activated. Searching for open networks. There are thirteen networks available. Please select the network you’d like to link to.” A list of unfamiliar names appear on the HUD in front of his eyes. Radio link, check. 

“Hill View is probs the name they gave whatever the construct is that Rya Mendez lives in. End of Row likely means the furthest back portion of the alley.” Information delivered, Fixer feels Blossom stiffen a little in his lap. 

“So, this area’s got some booster activity. The Dead Dogs,” she quiets as she accesses more information through her internal cyberware. “Local gang… not much in the news, just some minor arrests for drug trafficking…”

“Great, like things couldn't get better.... “ Charlie taps at his agent’s keys again. “Bloss, can you find anymore info on Dead Dogs like mugshots for me so either one of us can feed that into the drone, so we can “tag” faces—bodies—to know gang members, please?” 

“Might take a minute,” the Asian woman distractedly replies.

“Map shows me the diner, here—Grandma Dee’s Diner. I”m thinking that I set my perch up here at the diner. Even this POS won’t look out of place,” Cred Stick Charlie informs his team. “Anyone wanna walk from this point?” Charlie looks to the sniper. “You want to egress and extract here or in the hot zone, the choice is yours, unless your not afraid to be seen with us in the vehicle as we cruise around the block.”

Ghlahn looks out over the street having spent the whole of the ride observing the dullness of the Sunday morning. Nothing unusual jumps out at him now and it didn’t then as they passed ordinary building after ordinary building. Without even thinking about it, he assesses the various fire escapes, rooftops, and ledges as overwatch positions. It seems his inner sniper never rests.

"Once you all come up with a plan,” he says, spotting the skeletal ribbing of a fire escape across the street on the corner. “Just let me know and I will find a spot to keep an eye on you as usual."

Exiting the jeep, the sniper hefts his bag and rifle case, shoulders them, and takes his opportunity to cross the street amidst the practically non-existent vehicular traffic.

“Let’s get rolling,” Echo says, eyes on the retreating back of their overwatch.

Eyeballing an elderly couple who have taken notice of their activities from within the diner, Cred Stick Charlie glances in his side view mirror and lifts the aerodyne from the pavement with a high-pitched squeal of a belt.

Driving past the mouth of 12th Alley, Casino finally comes out of his reverie and back into the present. He can see a series of huts and hovels start to appear in the dark confines leaving a winding path between them that just as quickly is swallowed up by dark shadows. Wiring and clotheslines, the difference between them lost in the dark, easily crisscrossed the upper levels like a primitive spider web. This net of wires and lines begins at the ground level and reaches as high up as the big solo can see. He also makes out the crossways linking buildings together overhead, a maze that can be just as deadly as a true poisonous spider’s web for anything flying. Above all this the underside of another level of roads block out a portion of the natural light still so determined to make it through.

To Casino this was just another cluster****, part of the city and not really telling the group anything about where this Rya Mendez is to be found.

Fixer peers around at the alley and surrounding neighborhood. Squatters. People who can’t even afford the rent in that flea-infested pile at Rya’s fake address. All she could do was afford to buy an address. And then live here. What a crappy world. The idea hits the techie in the face nearly every day on this planet, but somehow it strikes him really hard here. He feels bad for those stuck in this alley—and he has seen much worse alleys. Heck, they’d just been buying info in a worse one outside the rental space. But life is harsh, and he does not want to end up here himself. 

And not ending up here means finding Jace and doing it quickly. He puts pity aside with one last thought—what would he be willing to do not to end up here? And similarly, what would he be willing to do to get out once here? He has heard nice words about Rya Mendez, but can’t help wondering how she has answered those two questions. Sometimes nice people just need to stay alive. What was it his uncle used to say? “When people are starving and watching their kids die right in front of them, they don’t just roll over in the gutter and say, ‘ah shucks!’ and die.  They fight. They fight whoever and however they need to in order to save themselves and their families.” The wisdom of Uncle John. Was Rya fighting to stay alive? It would explain much.  And he could hardly blame her. 

But sympathy doesn’t find the kid and doesn’t keep him out of the alley. He has his own fight to fight. 

Fixer looks at the others in the group. This stuff was their gig, but he decides to speak up anyway, “Ok, so we’ll be able to see with the spy,” he refers to the drone, “and we need to watch all exists. We’ll have the walkie talkies split up at each exit, I assume. Does everyone here know what she looks like? We all saw the video,” here, he looks to Charlie, “Charlie, you see the vid?  You know her? There is no reason she should know us or know we are here. I know I’m not the master planner, but I gotta think going in with the whole gang will be pretty noticeable and might make her run just to be safe. I suspect I’m here as backup so point me where I can be of use. Teamwork, folks. It isn’t just Jace’s life that depends on it now.” 

That last statement makes him nervous. It is so true. He peers around and remembers the entrance to the alley as they continue around the block—aside from all the wiring, there hadn’t appear to be anything electrical, let alone security oriented, at the mouth of the alleyway. Who the hell would wire a hobo alley? Nobody he can figure; but if Rya can rent an address, maybe she can rent something else as well. Those wires running about the alley...they’ll get attention too. He’d seen crazier things and if there is security of any sort whatsoever, they not only might want to be careful, but might be able to take advantage of it for their own uses. Security in a hobo alley...crazy thought.

Charile replies to the techie called, Fixer, "Yes. The drone will give you all an advantage. Hopefully. And your radio will ensure that you have a way to talk to each other. 

"Did I see the vid? Yes, I sure did. But no, I don't know her at all. On the other hand, let’s hope that no one has tipped her off, or that the other wrecking crew has found her and whacks us before we can get this job done."

“A bunch of private networks… none of them strong,” Blossom is back in her internal view of the Web, having taken Ghlahn’s seat when the sniper had vacated. “Nothing strong. Lots of dark space.”

Turning to look at Charlie in the driver’s seat, Casino asks an age old question, “So, what now?”

“Bloss,” Cred Stick Charlie calls back over his shoulder, “where is the best connection for you here? I'm thinking the diner for me.”

“That diner was plenty crowded…” Blossom pops the sucker from her mouth. “If we can get a seat, that’s fine with me.”

One way in and one way out, that makes Ghlahn’s job easy. The challenge now is making use of what little architecture was available, remain unnoticed, and provide fire support at the mouth of the alley. No sweat.

He had surveyed the building across the street from the alley coming around the corner, before Charlie had dropped him in front of that busy diner. There was nothing ideal, but there was that fire escape up the south side. That seems like his best bet.

Crossing the street, he passes in front of the CPA’s office. Foot traffic is picking up. The sidewalk is about 70% congested with people making their way east. People dressed in their best clothes, hair combed, cybernetics polished. That’s going to make climbing the fire escape unnoticed nigh unto impossible. Keep going? Try to find another way up the outside of the building? Or see if there’s a way into one of the businesses along 12th Street, maybe find a way upstairs and then out onto the escape?

Rounding the corner once again, Charlie parks the jeep and waits for it to settle to the ground before removing the keys. Grandma Dee’s Diner is no less packed than it was five-minutes ago.

“Standing room only,” Echo mutters. “Looks like we need another roost.”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:02 AM PST)

Haven't heard from Giddy... he's apparently still swamped. So, no rush.

Don't lose hope. I've started the post. Just ran out of time to finish it today. I will have more time tomorrow, I can already see that on my calendar. I hope to finish the post then.

Keeper, what type of perch is Ghlahn looking for? The ideal height, vantage, etc. would be helpful to know.

Got bamboozled into working all day. Thanks for your patience, everyone. I'll hopefully get a post up tomorrow.

I got shanghaied for the weekend. I hope to have something up today.

Shuttle with the EV suits because there's no life support. That's a big ship and there's a lot of mystery behind it. I like to play it safe with the firepower.

Gotcha. I've got a post from Keeper and Giddy is currently wrapped up in the whole "being an enlisted military so you gotsta do what they tell you and work when they tell you" scenario. I'll post this weekend.

I was so excited when I saw your post, Olan. Then I went to the game thread and I see it was typed out in invisible 0's and 1's. I don't have any means by which to turn those invisible 0's and 1's to visible so I'll just wait for them to naturally turn.

Poor Giddy has fallen prey to the work schedule of an enlisted Navy Man again. I've spoken with him once in two weeks and that was briefly. I know he appreciates everyone's' patience with his weird schedule as the games on the Inn are one of the few things that help him feel like a normal human being.

Twisting so that another of the evil creatures' attacks falls against his shield with a metallic thud, Gib's rhythm is broken as Aranwen stumbles from a strike and falls to the ground.

"Aranwen!" Moreno calls, his voice harsh and filled with a cocktail of concern and grief. Angrily smashing one of the walking corpses aside with his shield, the warrior-priest springs towards his fallen friend just as his world is shattered into tiny spots of light accompanied by a heavy ringing in his ears. I am floating... he muses disconnectedly as the ground sweeps up towards him but his body felt unreasonably light. There are no visions of the Warrior's Halls, there is only a deeper darkness than he's ever experienced and the retreat of his consciousness.

My beard is wet. Opening his eyes, Gib realizes that the world is on its side. Strange. Earthen odors are caught in his nostrils. 

“The zombies are gone. They’re really gone.”

I know that voice... I— Realization floods his mind. Painfully righting himself, he looks up at the form of the young priest of Solanis on all fours, beginning to move away.

“Davina…” Cedric's wonderment is evident in his soft voice, giving cause for the older warrior-priest to fervently assess their situation while wearily struggling to his feet.

Davina and her man are there, near Ch'dau, and the ground is strewn with the remains of the undead. Not as many as I would have thought, Gib grimly muses, his hardened gaze falling on Aranwen's form just a small distance from Cedric's ponderous crawling person. The others... Midge, Kith... they've survived!? Gratefully dropping a nod to the two who had obviously contributed to their survival, Moreno makes his way to Cedric's side and helps him to his feet and together, takes them to Aranwen's body. 

"Please, Lord Therassor," Moreno intones as he sets his shield and sword to the side and kneels next to his friend's head. "Please let her live."

Quickly checking for a heartbeat, breath, or any indication that the Sylvari still lives Gib is relieved and thankful to find that she does. Pulling his gloves from his hands, he places both over the chest of the fallen Bladesinger and chants the Healing Prayer. 

"Battle Father, Lord of the Fight,
A warrior has fallen in Your Might.
Bless this valiant heart with life.
By Your Powers make him right."

Reveling in the miracle of Therassor's healing, Gib closes his eyes and allows himself this moment to bask in his god's glory. When the power has passed, the remnant warmth lingering in his chest, Moreno addresses the needs of his fellow companions, each in turn as he considers their wounds from the most in need to the least, calling upon Therassor's miraculous healings until he can no longer make the requests.

With Aranwen returning to the land of the living, Moreno approaches Kith where she and Ch'dau sit. Looking her over from a position a few feet in front of the little thief, he presses his lips together and offers a small shake of his helmeted head. "What was about to be done to you... I am sorry for my part in your falling prey to those ghouls. I believe now that the dangers in these woods require a different approach than simple military strategy and will not be suggesting any further scouting missions."

From there, he tends to wounds and injuries as best he can from the supplies and medicine he knows. He listens to the talk and keeps an eye on the woods while he works, and when all of the work to stabilize his friends, the warrior-priest drops to his knees within their midst and takes his sword by the hilt in two hands, blade held towards the heavens and invites his companions to join him in prayer.

"Therassor, my god, my general," Moreno stares hard and fast at the holy symbol embedded and engraved in the crossbar of his weapon, his voice as level as he can keep it, neither loud and boisterous nor meek and quiet. "I kneel and pay homage to thee for guiding these two here where they brought us victory. Glory, and honor be thine. We live to serve thee further and for this we are grateful." 

Remaining in poised prayer for a few moments longer, he finally, with ceremonial precision, draws his blade through his cloak so to clean the gore from the metal without cutting the cloth and sharply sheathes it. Rising from his knees, Gib retrieves his shield and returns to the happenings within the rest of the party.

"Your arrival is certainly appreciated," he acknowledges to the two, Devina and Garn. "We had feared the worst when we discovered your absence in Crandel. We did our best to confirm that you were safe and alive. It would seem that our concern was hasty."

(OOC: Whatever comments and conversation happens...)

Stepping up to Aranwen, Gib offers a suggestion in a low tone, not quite conspiratorial, "We should return to the site of Kith's ambush as soon as we are able. There was one who was a victim to the horde before Kith even arrived and we've left some valuable weapons there that I would like to retrieve. Perhaps searching the remains of the undead will also reveal some further insight into this horrific puzzle as well.

I'm spent, as I am sure Cedric and Midge are as well, so if we could manage a period of sustainable rest, that too would be appreciated."