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Rook dismounted and hurriedly led Hobo toward the open door. If there were undead still lurking out and about, she had no intention of leaving her trusted steed out to become zombie food.

“I think I found a shorter path,” he called, noticing the small road possibly used by pigs not too long ago, “I’ve no idea where it ends, but it doesn’t feel as dangerous or as long as the others.”

“We should still be cautious,” Illumia added, “we’ve no idea of knowing if this sorceress’ undead guard the path; tread lightly.”

As Rook neared the door, the sounds of the monastery grew louder. Soon, she would see the inside. The foyer is in view, it's wooden seats lying near the front doors, stacked into makeshift barricades. The floor is tiled stone, and the interior is dim with a few braziers and lanterns lighting up the inside. The two doors to the main chamber is cracked slightly open, and the others which lead to the two hallways are closed.

Around the Foyer are various people sat on the floor or stools. Monks, priests, apprentices, templars, craftsmen, and some others. Some patching themselves up, others sobbing in the comfort of others, some simply sitting down keeping to themselves, and others staring off into nothingness akin to the thousand yard stare. The man from before sits down on an unoccupied stool and speaks again. "Tell us, and speak up. We must hear the news."

Around this time, Lord Toyle's and Pentre's party would exit the pig trail, coming out at around the left side of the battlefield which was previously a meadow or even a garden. They bodies still lie motionless, with the many weapons impaled into them still serving as mementos of a previous conflict.

Rook leads Hobo inside, his horseshoes tapping loudly on the tiled stone floor. Her eyes scan the foyer, looking for Bertram, an older fletcher that she often bought her arrows from, a bit disheartened to not find him amongst the gathered crowd.

She returned her gaze to the man that had addressed her, her own eyes troubled as she brought no good news to these people.

"Vallan is burned," she said. "I rode up to it this morning to find it still smoldering, the gates smashed, bodies in the streets. The witch's doing. There are some who survived. Lord Toyle and a few of his knights. Some commoners as well and... travelers."

She did not elaborate further on the lizard-like creature, Arun-Ja, still unsure what to make of him herself.

"Was the attack here just last night as well?" she asked, trying to put a timeline together in her head. Had the witch split her forces? Or simply attacked one and then moved to the other?

“This is unsettling,” he remarked as they passed the corpses, some burnt and others rent in twain, “stay on your guard here.”

Illumia cast a spell to detect those who were undead among the dead, hoping this would give them a chance to prepare themselves, or to kill them before they rose.

Lord Toyle was rather weary at Aria and the witch and Arun-ja too, basically anything that was not strictly human caused him concern though he was good enough at hiding it all well, after all, Aria had always served loyaly for many months if not years.

Sir Arnold remained troubled at Pentre's callous approach.

"Was it really necessary to kill the wounded, you should make a greater effort to heal and protect rather than destroy" admonished the lawfully good knight, too righteous to feel comfortable with so much death all around.

"Needs must... sometimes you just have to be cruel to be kind and end their suffering quickly, it´s the merciful thing to do" dismissed Pentre, sword to hand and alert to the surroundings

Desire and Serena, hurdled closer to Arnold and Pentre, leaving Toyle and Aria to speak, always mindful to give their rightful lord all the space and privacy he deserved.

Ahead of them lay such a terrible path of destruction, it was hard to tell which one fared worse if Vallan or the monastery. Still they made haste forward to reach the grand entrance as quickly as they could manage.

"By Auft, you hear that?! The flippin' monastery fared better than the capitol!" The man says to his companions littered throughout the room, some half-halfheartedly chuckling. Despite him trying to lift the mood, the man continues. "Aye. You see that battlefield out there? We mainly kept the bastards back with a big ole ballista we hoisted to the bell tower. Saw 'em coming down the main road from miles away, so we knew somethin' was up."

"We tried sending out a messenger to warn of it to Vallan, but I guess he never arrived from what you're telling me." The man says.

No undead lays dormant on the ground. At least it seems that way from what Illumia can tell. As Toyle's party ventures forward, they hear the sounds of liveliness, and living people beyond the view of the doorway. More survivors, and a familiar face.

Pentre heard the sounds and voices further ahead, beyond the doors that were coming closer and barked out his orders.

"Open up to the lord of the lands, come out to greet lord Toyle of Vallan!" demanded Pentre in his authoritative voice

"It might have...," Rook said. "Perhaps the warning gave at least a few of them a chance to survive," she added sadly. But the sad look was replaced quickly with a look of irritation that she could not hide when Pentre's voice came from outside. "Here are a few of the survivors now."

Before the man went out to greet the party, she reached out to touch his arm... "Wait... can you tell me.. Bertram? Is he...?" she let the question hang unfinished, already dreading that she knew the answer.

The man hearing Pentre's orders got up from his seat to walk over before being stopped momentarily by Rook. "I'm afraid I don't know lass. Some of the craftsmen boarded themselves up in the workshops and warehouses out back behind the monastery. If he's alive and not here, you might find him there." The man says before continuing on.

The templar opens the door a bit wider to see Lord Toyle's party outside. He gives a respectful bow. "Mi'lord. I see Lady Auft has spared you well from the dark menace. Is Vallan truly burned like the ranger says?" He asks, momentarily glancing over at Arun-Ja and Illumia.

Toyle nodded grimly

"I am afraid to say that it is so, only my fortress, the dungeons and barracks as well as the nearest tavern were partly spared, the rest is all blood and ashes and rubble" assured Toyle looking at the man

"We come to seek sanctuary for the night and rest a little before we continue the journey to the mountain top to defeat this menace that is threatening us all" explained Toyle as to the reason for their visit

Rook nodded her head to the man, smiling a tight smile with only a little hope. "Thank you. I will check." But she refrained from going there just yet, not wishing to push her way past him while he greeted Toyle and the rest of the company.

Once the doorway clears, unless there's another reason to stay, she'll head toward the buildings in the back.


((It's toward evening now, right?))

“The dead sleep here,” Illumia assured them, both sorcerers then standing back and letting the diplomats figure the rest out. While they did so, both attempted to read the dark magic at work, seeking to find the source and cut it off if possible. As Illumia chanted, Arun-Ja wrote down the occurrences, charting every change in the air as it occurred.

The man gives a sigh after hearing the news. "A courageous feat indeed. Well, as you may have already known..." He looks out to the battlefield behind Toyle's party. "...As of late, we have more than enough room for travelers in the monastery barracks and dormitories. And if ye need anything else before you begin again on your travels, please, do let us know. Some of the apprentices and craftsmen have been itching to use their skills for more than just practice and business."

The Templar says, before taking a few feet back to gesture them inside.

"I'm surprised this place held up so well. I would've thought this place would've taken more of a beating..." Aria whispers to Toyle.

As the group filed in, Rook gave Sir Arnold a smile which then extended to include the few citizens of Vallan that had followed along, as well as Arun-Ja and Illumia. But she carefully avoided locking eyes with either Toyle or Pentre.

Maybe, she thought, their strict policies against magic had even driven the witch to her drastic course of action.

She'd been about to go try to find Bertram, but lingered a few moments longer. "Is there a historian among them, by chance? Someone who might know Adryn's full history?"

"Maybe, but they'd be held up in the workshops like most of the rest of them if any are still kicking." An old man says grimly towards Rook, sitting on the floor. "Though, even if they kicked the bucket, you should still be able to maybe find some scraps or documents in their dormitories." He says.

Toyle gazed at Aria

"Well my fortress held out overall rather well, it was well designed and better built. One should not assume the survival is the work of magic. Though... being scholars, they would probably be the only ones who have always been allowed a touch of magic, dark and light alike, for the sake of learning and education. Like those two, sometimes you need to fight fire... with fire" explained Toyle gazing at Arun-ja who clearly had a sorcerers' touch.

Sir Arnold smiled warmly at Rook, saluting the knight templar courteously before leading the way for the lord of the lands and his overly eager executioners, Pentre and Aria.

"Good to see you made it here..." muttered Sir Arn at seeing Rook, listening to her request a historian to investigate the witch

The ranger nodded to the man. "Then I'll go check there. Thank you." She turned, leading Hobo back toward the door so that she could exit again, intending to circle around to the workshops.

She paused though, when Arnold returned her smile. "You as well," she said to him, wondering if perhaps she might find an ally in him despite his association with Pentre and Toyle. Of the entire group, he was the only one that struck her as genuinely trustworthy.

"Care to walk with me, Sir?" she asked him, still avoiding Pentre's eyes.