Camping for the night.

May 26th 6:46.

The eight of them traveled down the road at a brisk, but not pushed, pace. Eventually, after several hours of traveling they reached a spot in the road where Isolda road on over next to Beranhond.
"This road continues on up to Red Larch so we will be cutting off and heading east towards Goldenfields across the plains. We will camp for the night to rest the horses - the Abbey hasn't been all that welcome as of late so we will want to approach in the daylight."
Beranhond nodded and spread the message to Kailina and Janusa.

8:00 PM
The group stopped by a small brook. While Hrekdovaskalishavarto (Hrek) made a fire and dinner the rest of them watered and fed the horses, brushed them down and then set up their bedrolls.

After dinner, Beranhond volunteered for the first watch. As the rest fell into slumber he and Tigrisclawu stared out into the darkness.

Perception:
Roll(1d20)+6:
3,+6
Total:9 (well... fitting considering he can't see very well).

Tigrisclawu Perception:
Roll(1d20)+5:
17,+5
Total:22

Arrival in Waterdown.

On the fourth day after meeting his distant relations, Beranhond stepped off the ship. His stomach wasn't doing too well, and the ship's crew had been borderline crazy. However, he had arrived safely in Waterdeep. After recovering for a moment, he went to the market and sold off his remaining healing turbans that he had made on the ship. He then took the money to the local chapter of the Vasri trading company and exchanged much of his coins for a letter of credit.

As Beranhond arrived at the temple of Torm in Waterdeep, he say a procession traveling up the steps to the temple just in front of him. The procession consisted of 4 people being carried on stretchers and 19 people carrying stretchers or protecting the group. The procession was dripping and splattered with a coating of blood and viscera, obviously coming from a battle of some sort.

Jumping to try to help, Beranhond hurried to catch up to the group, Tigrisclawu in tow. The group made it up the steps and into the large, wooden double doors of the temple before he was able to catch up with them. As he entered the doors, Beranhond saw the group being directed by a priest of Torm to a stairwell leading downward. Beranhond walked up to the priest, who noticed him entering and turned to face him, saying, "May the Justice of Torm guide your actions. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Beranhond noticed the man wore the full suit of battle armor typical of a priest of Torm, with wispy blonde hair on the sides of his head that appeared to be just beginning to lighten to white in places, giving him something of a halo. The man smiled reassuringly as Beranhond stopped in front of him. "I am a healer. Is there anything that I can do to help those people that just came in?"

The man bowed respectfully to Beranhond, acknowledging a fellow healer, as he said, "Thank you, friend, but they will be well taken care of in our infirmary. Your offer is appreciated, regardless."

Beranhond took advantage of the brief pause in the conversation to introduce himself. "My name is Beranhond. I came to your temple in search of answers." Why can't I come up with anything less cliche to say than that? I'm just opening myself up to be converted with that line! "I have several friends who are paladins of Torm, who were sent to this area from Tantras. I was in the area and thought I would check in to see if Ceilith was still here. Do you know her?"

The man put a hand on Beranhond's shoulder (likely a rather awkward touch) and said, "Yes, she like many of our priests and clerics, are fighting the beasts attacking the city. She is one of those on the outer loop, making a tour of the countryside that will take her another week to return. Do not fear, my son, the champions of Torm are valiant, and this foe won't stay them so easily."


Not to be so easily persuaded, Beranhond continued pressing for answers. "Who are they fighting? You spoke of beasts?"

"Yes," the man responded. "Those wandering outside of the city have been under increasing attacks by both undead and beasts roaming around. It was the undead that drew our attention, but both the magical and non-magical beasts of the forest, river, and plains have been extremely aggressive of late, and our attempts to contact the druids' circle near Goldenfields have not been able to even locate the druids, let alone discover why the animals have gone mad."

"I thank you for your help, priest. I must be off. Until we meet again, fare thee well." And with that, Beranhond turned and left the city, to continue his search of more answers.

Other things you pick up: 

• The undead and the beasts have been attacking for around 3 weeks, and attacks have only increased in that time, despite the rather recent addition of the paladins who were in the area for a different threat.
• Things at sea have been stormy of late as well, with seemingly random ships being attacked by large sharks and creatures of the deep that rarely interact with human vessels.
• The fighting with animals outside of Waterdeep and elsewhere is worse than the priest let on. The talk in the city is that the undead and the animals are targeting priests of Lathander. It's even rumored that the leader of the church of Lathander, Dwimble the Good, is considering declaring a holy war against the beasts that are attacking them. 
• Torm's priests see themselves as vulnerable and next in line should the creatures tire of attacking Lathander's clergy, and have joined in the fight, becoming something of a target themselves.
  

The Burned Remains From the Table

Beranhond:
 In the papers from the table, you find the remains of several different notes. One sheet seems to detail the writer's attempts to create an undead creature. He apparently considered himself only mildly successful, and was hopeful that with a bit more time, he could do much better. There were many attempts leading to a single wight. The next note makes some mention of an alliance, and that "they are now supplying me with bodies." It is rather cryptic, but the author of the note seems very pleased with the arrangement. You also find two scrolls in the pile:

Command Undead (level 3)
Spectral Hand (level 3)

Morning Glow, Morning Glow, starts to glimmer when you know...

8:00 AM:
Dan, I will be away from a computer until sometime Friday, so fill this in whenever you need to.

Beranhond's eyes open and looking around he sees...

Roll(1d20)+3:
20,+3 (booya!)
Total:23

The square is no longer the host of an influx of people looking for healing. The miracle worked by Narath seems to have done the trick for now. There are still people who have set up temporary shelters and are trying to make themselves comfortable. It seems that much of the city has shut down with the loss of many of the buildings and bridges, and people are still just trying to keep their families safe and fed.

The ruins of the temple draw Beranhond's attention once again as he wakes up, and he gets up and gestures for Tigrisclawu to come along as he investigates a bit more.

The temple is certainly the building that has seen the most destruction anywhere in the city. Even without looking too closely at any of the other buildings, that is apparent. Even the stairs leading up to the temple have been destroyed, and the only reason it is obvious they were once stairs is that half of them were tossed to the ground to lie on their side beside where they once stood.

As he approaches the building, a foul stench reaches his nose. It's worse than the simple dirt, sweat, blood and death of the rest of the city. It's as if decay has already set in here, and somehow the temple has in one day experienced a month of rot. The smell seems to be a combination of rotting flesh and feces, though the feces could be explained by the priests who are undoubtedly buried in the rubble.

Beranhond walks over to investigate the rift that has opened under the temple. It appears that the slope is gradual enough to climb down into, slowly, over all of the rubble that has filled in the hole a bit. At the bottom, it looks as if this fissure opens into a pre-existing tunnel or something, though it is impossible to see anything beyond that it opens up at the bottom of this small ramp.

"It looks as if no one even attempted to dig the priests out," Beranhond notices with a bit of shock. There are still several limbs he can see sticking out of the wreckage. "And that one appears to have been gnawed on," he notices with disgust.

"Speaking of priests..." Beranhond remembers the priest he had the tussle with earlier, and turns to look for him, but he is either hidden from view somewhere in the square or has left. Either way, he will not be likely to get any answers from him anytime soon.