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I don't believe any clerics had healing left in them as of the ghoul fight, so I'll skip ahead to the next morning, at any rate:

April 14, 1 VC - 8:00am

The rain continues, and everyone envies Bertram his condition a bit as their clothes and gear slowly soak through out on the open moor. Thankfully, the packs can be hung from Galen's horse and are generally waterproof, keeping the food from spoiling under the ongoing downpour.

The afternoon and night pass uneventfully, leaving the clerics time in the morning to consider their prayers and the possibilities of a new day.

Please deduct one day's rations each, except for Bertram.

Oops, sorry about that Yeah, switch those names.

Early in the morning, while it is still raining quite heavily, Krysta walks a few yards from camp, strips naked and bathes in the rain. As she washes the grime, soot, and blood away, she cries for her lost friends, and prays to Pelor...who seems to have forgotten her. Her prayers soon become angry and she shouts and curses the Sun God for abandoning her and her friends to the ghouls. She pleads for understanding. She cries and pounds her fists against her thighs in frustration. After a good while, she dresses (in clean, albeit wet, clothes if she has any) and returns to camp.

"I have a healing spell. Who needs it most?" she whispers, her voice raw and hoarse.

Rations deducted.

Bertram nods towards Galen in the tent. "The other cleric was badly burned."
He's not much for comforting the downtrodden, but he tries any way. "Don't be too hard on yourself. We're still alive at least. It's no consolation to poor Crivit and Quirin. But that much is miracle in its own rights. Another day to live. Another chance at revenge, perhaps...Or redemption."
He's not able to hold eye contact for long, so he stares into the fire while poking at the ashes to keep it alive.

rations deducted

Krysta nods and walks inside the tent, kneeling down beside Galen. "Do you feel like...like our gods abandoned us in there? What did we do wrong to have them...(sigh)..."

She gently lays her hands on Galen's chest and invokes her only spell of the day.

CLW: [1d6+1] = 5+1 = 6

"Feel a little better?"

Galen stirs fitfully in his fevered sleep and rolls over on to his side, the wounds seeming to heal over somewhat. His breathing deepens a bit for a moment, and then before too long he opens his eyes, crusted with soot and tears.

Buryl is wracked with pain from his wounds and from the feeling that this whole thing was his fault.

He mumbles to himself. If I would have just run instead of taking that shot, none of this would have happened. And if I didn't get so freaked out when we exited, Quirin might still be with us. I have failed you all.

He stands and goes back to look at the entrance of the crypt, trying to see inside as far as he can.

The tomb seems cold and dead now, more so than at any time, especially under the lead gray sky and driving rain. The rain is cold but Buryl hardly feels it. He peers into the darkness and feels somehow like the darkness is peering back. He suddenly grows nervous that their misadventure here has spawned even greater misfortunes to come, as irrational and superstitious as that seems. He has to turn away from the dark and silent entrance before the feeling overpowers him.

Galen draws a great shuddering breath as he regains consciousness, feeling as if he has been underwater...but he is reminded of his true state as he awakens, and he raises one hand weakly to scrub at his burning eyes.

Shakily he manages to sit up, wincing as the movement causes pain in his still-remaining burns. "Gods, I am alive. I remember that ghoul's claws...then pain." He looks at Krysta, and says, "It would appear I am deep in your debt. How fares the rest of our company?"

When he hears of Quirin's passing and the fate of Crivit, his face grows downcast. "Aye...I feared Crivit, falling prey to those tools of evil, would be animated by their unholy power. But I had thought we might be able to bless his corpse, that he might rest in peace. And Quirin..." He trails off, then takes another deep breath.

"Grant me time to pray, and I will do what I can for our remaining comrades." He gently clasps Krysta on the arm, then turns to struggle to his knees and touch his holy symbol, praying to the Great God of the North to hear him.

Memorizing CLW. Who needs it most?

OGRE MAGE wrote:He mumbles to himself. If I would have just run instead of taking that shot, none of this would have happened. And if I didn't get so freaked out when we exited, Quirin might still be with us. I have failed you all.

"Nonsense! It was the gods who failed us > they did not answer our pleas or prayers for protection! I can't imagine what Crivit could have done for Veles to abandon him to such a horrible fate. I can't speak for Galen, but while I laid there paralyzed, I mentally pleaded with Pelor for deliverance and would have given anything, even my life, if it would have spared the rest of us. But he did not answer me. Poor Quirin."

Krysta brushes her wet hair back from her face and pats Buryl on the back.

Bertram will back up Krysta's encouragement for Buryl. "We can never know if our decisions are right or wrong until they are made and we deal with consequences. We decided to support Fangir and Crivit lost his life. We decided to recover his body and Quirin paid the awful price. For what's its worth, you fought bravely and your courage never faltered even when the odds looked impossible. For that I am grateful and count you a worthy ally. You and Abi both."

Buryl holds his head up for the first time since the battle while completely ignoring the accolades.

Aye, Abi surprised me when she pulled out her sling, especially since the rock almost hit me. She could have run but she stayed right there, the entire time I was crapping my pants.

And Galen, I must confess to you that, even though you were unconscious and don't remember, I was the one at fault for those horrible burns you received. I only hope that someday you will be able to forgive me for it.

Galen gives Krysta a look somewhere between comforting and disapproving. "We must not blame the gods for all the ills of the mortal world. For all their power, the gods work through their agents...the gods help those who trust in themselves, for through our deeds we honor them. I have faith that Koios sees farther than I, but if I can improve my own vision it will be to his benefit as well as mine."

To Buryl, he gives an easy shrug. "Did you mean to set me afire? Then worry not about it, you are already forgiven. In the haze and confusion of battle, mishaps occur. Through Pelor's healing graces, I am hale enough once more...and if your oil had flown true, it might have turned the tide against those undead. And speaking of healing graces, let me use my own spells to succor someone, and we can discuss our options."

PM sent to the group.

Krysta listens to Galen and pokes at the smoldering fire.

"Well, we're pretty beat up...and beat down. I'm leaning with Abi...who I owe my life as well...in returning to Vaul. But...if we can heal up out here, there's no reason we cannot complete our mission. How are we doing on rations? I have enough for eight more days. How long will it take us to get back to Vaul?"

Galen first prays for healing and lays his hands on Bertram, who is barely on his feet.
Cure Light Wounds: [1d6+1] = 3+1 = 4

After that, he muses for a bit, then says, "If I'm remembering right, I think we're about 4 days travel from Vaul. I have a dozen days' rations; we should have salvaged Quirin's food. But I think we would be fine to keep camping here, if we wanted to try inside once more."

"The only question is, why? We were going to aid Fangir, but he told us to flee; I do not know if there if he still lives, or if we could aid him in anything. We went back for Crivit, but he came to us, more's the pity. We now have his corpse and that of Quirin, and we gave them to the flames...a fitting enough end, and it should let them rest in peace. The only reasons I could think to go back within is to see what became of Fangir, and perhaps recover the magical briar boots that Crivit wore. But I do not know if those are sufficient reasons."

"We could instead head back toward Vaul; with Krysta's and my healing spells, we should all be healed enough soon to perhaps investigate that onyx tower we saw on the way. What say you all?"

Buryl

We know that evil still lurks beneath us. We all heard the cry. After looking back inside, I don't know if I could go back in there anyway.

I would go have a look at the black tower if the group agrees. Or we could just go back to Vaul and lick our wounds.