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I pause, gulping a bit. "Ah, well..." I thought deeply for a moment. Could I get close to it? I can steal a ring from a queen, but that is if she is sleeping and the guards are away. If the beast lays in a dark crypt, which I wouldn't be surprised if it did, then I might have a chance. The stories that I had heard about it tells me if it were to see me, I'd be a dead man. Yet still, I do think I am capable of it... with help of course. "I do not think I can do it alone. But what of this thread you speak of? Are you implying this may be a tale like the Nordic Gods? Fenrir, was it? I heard tales of the great beast being tied down with a certain rope and then being slain by one of Odin's sons... Víðarr was it?" I may be a thief, but having a contract in a priests hall can really pay off with the right amount of boredness.

Archer looks around nervously, before cursing softly.

"Damn it, Shara's still outside. I didn't even see where she went." He winced. "If anything happens to that bird, I swear someone's gonna have their head on a pike."

He examined what was around him, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"Can't see an inch past my nose...Damn it. Iraco, are you there?"

Having given his knife to Rae, Xepil resorted to the only other weapon he could swing in such a small environment; his buckler!

"I'm sick of these freaking snakes, in these freaking tomb! Grraa!" He snarled and swung down on the snake bursting down from the ghoul's stomach.

In the Mad Widow's hut:

"Perhaps like that, Vilod."

She tapped on her spinning. "I can spin the thread to make the rope." The widow's mouth crept up into a crooked smile. "If you bring me hair of the dead."

---

Just inside the southern tomb entrance:

"Aaagh... I'm here," Iraco answered, picking himself up and trying to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the tomb. The only light here trickled in through the still-opened door. The dark, narrow passage is supported by walls of stone slabs. The low ceiling is made of similar slabs, each inscribed with dense spirals. The air is still and cool, and puddles of water have pooled on the hard-packed earthen floor.

"Bird won't do much good in here anyway," the hunter said gruffly.

"You think them folks was drowned then maybe?" Hadden asked nervously, not sure which answer boded better for his own personal future. He wasn't particularly anxious to either go deeper into the tomb or to go back out through the pool with the water spirit.

---

((I'm headed out of town for a few days. I'll give Vampire until I'm back on Tuesday to respond. Either way, I'll make sure to chime in for that story thread then. ))

I look back towards Cat and Olsen thinking, 'Great, as if this wasn't hard enough. Now i have to scalp a dead man!' at least Ymae knows how to make the rope. "Okay... Where is the nearest crypt? Surely finding a tomb shouldn't be too hard around here..."

Rae releases her hold on the buckler completely as the serpent bursts from its fleshy prison. Somehow, she finds Xepil's offered blade at about the same time and, with a wild cry, makes a furious plunge of the blade toward the wriggling creature's head. If she can't kill it, maybe she can injure it enough to keep it from coiling up to strike...

Woohoo!

Oleen and Cat exchange uneasy glances again as Vilod agrees to go fetch corpse hair for the witch.

"Too bad the Jarl's been havin' us burn all the folks the hound got," Oleen commented. There'd been a nearly continuous funeral pyre going these past few months over concerns and rumors that the hounds victims would become undead.

"Wut 'bout that tomb then?" Catkins suggested. "Iffn the hound ain't in it no more, couldn't we jest go in an get some?"

---

Rae's knife's tears into the snake, leaving a wide gash along its side as it slithers free of its ghoul. It strikes out toward the adventurers immediately...

"If the Jarl is burning everyone who was attacked, then we just might have to. Maybe there will be some Draugr? Or the Hound keep some unlucky travelers it finds in its den..." I rise from where I had been sitting, dusting myself off. "Thank you, Ymae, for the help. We will hopefully be returning with some hair." I drop a bag of gold in front of her, a gift for the information she had given us.

(anyone there?)

(I am. I think I had been waiting for Xepil to respond and then kinda forgot...)

Xepil dodged back out of the snake trying to strike him, sharp teeth bared at the thing as it continued to slither out of their attacks and taking minimal damage. Above all, he really hated fighting in close quarters like this, he was a skirmisher and an atlatl expert for a reason. He didn't like exposing himself to danger like this!

"Dang, friggin' thing! Die!!" Snarled the Hobgoblin and tried to bash the serpent with his buckler again.

As Ymae went back to her spinning, Oleen and Catkins were only too glad to escape from her hut. Oleen, though, didn't seem too pleased with the direction the conversation had gone. "I dunt wanna be diggin' up no dead bodies! Couldn't we just off somebody instead? Who's got the longest hair?"

Catkins looked a little uneasy at the suggestion, but looked to Vilod to see what she thought.

---

Xepil's shield bashes into the corpse of the ghoul, which falls limp now that the snake has slithered out of it. It's dead weight falls atop Rae and Xepil in the narrow chimney-like tunnel, while the snake slithers downward, its gut-slicked sides wriggling between the tangle of limbs and weapons as it falls down into the crawlspace where their feet still are, along with the cleric and the wizard.

It felt like it had been ages since the half elf had been left to guard Morgan from the Jarls. She had been drawing away in a sketch book, one that never left her side. It was disappointing that she couldn’t adventure with her companions, but no matter. This is where she was needed.

Her lead pencil glided smoothly over the page, forming intricate shapes across it. As she looked up at the position of the sun from the window, a small pinch of worry formed in her mind. ’They should have been back by now....’ A soft hum escaped her lips as she stood and looked out the door. No sign of them by the looks of it.

Nightfrost sighed and grabbed her small bag, wondering if something had gone amiss. Her long hair swayed a little as she walked out of the inn and towards the tomb, thoughts rushing through the mind like a tornado or curiosity and worry.

"Blasted mess," Rae grumbles angrily as the serpent continues its slippery path downward and the ghoul lands atop her head. She squirms under its weight and yanks downward on whatever limb is easiest to grab. ((She's kind of trying to throw the corpse downward onto the serpent, but, given the lack of space to do so, an accidental dismembering could be humorous...)) She wishes now that she'd thrown caution to the wind and used fire to deal with this situation.