Gilfer moved to the back of the carriage, sitting on the step just before the door before saying, with his head staring over the side of the caravan "I'll keep an eye..or perhaps more then one on whatever comes from behind. I trust it is to be understood that the inside is not where I want to sit at this moment."
Mekel climbs aboard the carriage, taking a seat next to Elise on the driver's bench, equally unwilling to actually be inside the carriage at the moment. "So where exactly are we going?" he asks, his left hand still holding the area of his arm where he had been stabbed.
Once on the move, there would be two things that would immediately strike at least certain members of the little group...
First, it would be hours before they would start hearing wildlife noises again. Perhaps the undead had caused that much of a disturbance?
Second, Mekel would begin hearing more whispers, especially any time that the path branched. Each time, the whispers would be loud enough that he could tell which path they were suggesting.
Elise noted the lack of natural sounds around them, but didn't comment on it. The undead they were following explained it plenty for her, animals running on instinct would try to be long gone as soon as they sensed the wrongness of it. Didn't help that the trio were travelling in their wake as well, the fact that wildlife started to return just told her that they were falling behind, more than anything else.
Gilfer started humming a tune, utterly nonplussed by the lack of animals or quantity of them. Where others might have had the knowledge of nature to realize they were missing, he himself was a city boy at heart, and nature always had an inherent wrongness to his mind. In fact, he got more uncomfortable when he started hearing animals again.
Mekel continues to grip his right arm as they travel, his free hand pointing in the directions the whispers tell him to go, silently staring out ahead of them from behind his mask, though he was obviously not well, from the way he held his arm and inhaled sharply whenever the cart hit a rough spot, though besides that he made no outward sign of there being a problem.
As the group's travel passed on towards a time where they might be feeling both tired and hungry, in the distance some manner of structure, seemingly built into a cliff-face, could be seen. By best guess, it wasn't occupied, and provided perhaps the best cover and defense in the area.
The whispers in Mekel's mind, however, seemed to regard the place with a mix of almost reluctant reverence, and a fair bit of anger.
Mekel growls as they approach the structure, his grip on his arm tightening as he speaks up. "That place seems like a good place to rest." he says, assuming the others had just noticed it, still trying to shut the whispers out of his mind.
Elise raised an eyebrow at the man's comment, noting his tense posture. "Aye, it does." She said, turning the wagon to park beside it before dispelling the magical horses drawing it. "Let's check inside, make sure we're the only ones here before settling in."
Gilfer looked over the side of the cart as they stopped "Hey, is it to have been decided that this place is likely safe? The birds aren't hear, the ratty spies, and I approve of any place they avoid. Except crows, crows sing such lovely tunes."
"That's what we're about to see." Elise answered the man, who she was increasingly sure was less than sane.
Hopping off the carriage, she hefted her own weapon, her temperament much improved over the holy one she had stolen, which had drained her for touching it. "Come along then." She ushered the other two, before starting towards the building.
Gilfer shrugged and jumped off the cart announcing as he did so "The inside might well be safe, but even if it is, if the outside is not, then we might end up surrounded in things that are less then fun."
He looked around the building, knocking over rocks, tapping the sides of the building every now and again, and overall just trying to find any sign of people outside of the building. He stumbled every now and again, apparently uncomfortable, although the occasional flinch was followed into a half dancing gambol, with his face distracted by a manic smile. Before long he looked at the others and announced "Nothing that can be found by the likes of me, but I'm certain there's many things out here."
The entrance to structure seemed open, perhaps having a wooden door that had long since crumbled away. Just inside, Elise could tell that there were two sets of footprints in the dust: one set of cautious steps heading in, and another set more purposeful heading out. While the outward-bound steps were newer, both had lighter dust resettling into them.
Elise noted the prints in and out, the layer of dust marking them as old enough to not be an issue, most likely. Stalking further inside, she made a thorough check of the building and any other rooms it may have, checking for other beings first, then trapdoors leading down, or hidden doors int eh walls that could lead elsewhere as well.
May as well take ten here as well, total remains 17
Gilfer walked inside shortly after Elise, chuckling to himself quietly as he looked around, utter disconcern in his stare now that he knew it was unlikely they'd be surrounded. Whatever was inside, they had it surrounded, and when you had something surrounded, it was food. Ah, the great equals. So many things. His allies = potential enemies. His fingers = potential torture weakpoints. His bag of tricks = a great way of scouting out a particularly problematic room.
After a moment in a giggling fit at his own insane logic, perhaps he was embracing this power without knowing enough about it, he turned to his allies, the swordsman with the mask and the half-drow, maybe full, and announced "We should be seeking for supplies, not just food or water, but for fun stuff, this place seems the sort to have been a cultists tomb when they decided that it was time to spike the tea and prepare the prayers to great elders. We have food and water, so don't go after spiked tea. Or spiked beer. Rot your teeth out, and worms are terrible for the complexion."
If you want a rant on the precise value of various tapestries, an instance of gnawing at the corner of a podium, and some time spent staring at random pieces of floor -utterly- convinced there's a trapdoor there, now would be the time to place a dead person with a book of random, nonsensical religious claptrap (aka any religious information whatsoever to my character) infront of us.
Mekel groans as he climbs off the carriage, barely able to keep himself standing as he wobbles inside the building, not even trying to be aware of his surroundings, finding something properly sized to sit on and sighing. "Gods be good, he's talking again." he speaks out, his left hand practically glued to his wounded arm by now.
Mekel's in too much pain to do much else than sit down and rest.
Mekel takes his left hand off his wound, blood coating the entire palm of his hand as he looks at it. "This isn't a normal wound. Most would have stopped hurting so badly by now." he says, reaching his right hand down to pick up one of the objects, and his left hand shooting back to cover the wound as he winces in pain, inspecting the object with a sort of morbid curiosity.
“You were stabbed by one of the leadership, who relegated themself to the use of a knife in close combat, and didn‘t seem to use spells. Seems pretty obvious the blade was magical in some way. Woould you like some help binding it?“ Elise answered back from the far end of the room, the slight sneer apparent in her voice.
