The Monastery

Gaius sighs. "Really? You're carrying corpses around now? Alright, let's take a look then." Gaius studies the corpse for a moment and then looks up at Akon. "Yes, the zombie got bit. I see that. I'm just gonna guess dragon at this point. I did hear that Scorch was responsible for a lot of the mess at the monastery. It would not surprise me if that red drake was just the beginning of a nest of dragons of some sort."

Akon nods. "Exactly. And this only serves to confirm it. Look here." She points out the gouged out marks where the rib cage is, and the burned clothing singed to the rotting flesh. "That's exactly what I was thinking. But I'm not aware of any dragons that raise dead. Though there was talk of one I believe....do you know of any necromantic dragons?"

Gaius looks at the burned pieces of clothing and then thinks for a moment. "Well, I've heard people say that Scorch himself is a dracolich, but if he was raising undead in Jastrey still... that would be a terrifying thought. Even more reason for this monastery to get cleared out it seems."

Akon sighs and drops down onto a tavern bench, leaning against the wall and tiredly pulling her hood down by running one hand across her hair. "I'd almost rather prefer those Ressik goons. A dracolich within our town walls is not anything at all to be lax about. Ugh. I am more comfortable fighting off soldiers than trying to tame a dragon. I've never seen a fully sized and live one...nor do I wish to."

Pendrad, passed out under one of the tables, wakes up suddenly at the mention of a dracolich.
 
"Foul sorcery!" he shouts as he leaps up and slams his head into the table leaving a red welt on his forehead.
 
Pendrad rubs his forehead and steadies himself stumbling toward the tavern door he sees the corpse beside the monk and the resident warlock.
 
"Well what did you drag out of the pit this time Akon?"

Akon snickers, finding humor in his jest, and she tiredly cocks her head up, leaning it against the tavern wall, eyes looking heavy. "As much as I am flattered that you would assume I did such a thing as to raise this bit of filth, alas, I cannot claim title as its creator." She pointed halfheartedly over the ruined bits of flesh that will managed to hold the form of some kind of humanoid. "Why don't you give it a look-see and see what you can make of it? I dragged it back from the monastery to see if we could figure out what's down there before we go in swords swinging. I rather like to know what I'm up against. Current theory, and immortals help us if it is correct, is that Scorch or one of his relatives is down there making a nest and brooding over our lovely monastery. I believe Dracolich would be the word. Nothing I particularly care to go poking a stick at..."

 
 Atasatch walks up to the group and looks to Akon. "Did I hear something about a the monastary?"

Akon nods and points to the corpse again which is lying on the table. "Aye, I brought some bits back for us to muse over." She says with a tired sigh, leting her eyes fall closed again.

Solas stands from his table, carrying his half filled wine glass with him. He makes his way over to the newly formed party. Placing one hand on Pendrad's shoulder, and one hand on Gaius' he wedges his way between the two. "What are we looking at?" He pauses. He looks from the table, to Pendrad, to Gaius, to Pendrad, back to the table. "No, seriously," He says, sipping his wine. "What are we looking at?"

Pendrad takes a moment to glance over the corpse.
 
"Status: dead, seems to be formerly undead to be precise."  Pendrad says in a mechanical fashion.
 
"The burns could be from mage fire, as me and Wyndfere were tossing fire about without discretion." Pendrad says as he strokes his stuble.
 
"For the teeth marks and gashes, it could be from scavengers around the monastery having a bite to eat." He says as he shrugs.
"I suppose this will require my magical expertise however." Pendrad says as he hunches over the corpse and places his hand on the fetid head. (inspect magic)
 
"Tell me your secrets."

"Tch.." Akon grumbles as she opens her eyes again reluctantly and hauls herself up. "No see....look." She hunches over the corpse and then picks at a particular bit of blackened skin. She begins pealing the skin away, but upon looking at there are distinctive fiber marks. "That's clothing. Well set into the skin. Which would lead one to assume that this flesh was burned before it was raised." She then goes about prying apart the teeth marks on the back. "Here, see?" She then digs her finger all the way in at full length in one of the teeth marks. "I've not seen bear nor rodent nor scavenger with fangs that size...." She then pulls her finger out of wound and goes down towards the ribs. She spreads apart the clawed wounds and then drags her fingers knuckle deep along them, as if her fingers were talons. "And see? This looks a bit more on the larger side of things, wouldn't you agree? I don't think this is just some random happenstance."

Wyndfere opens the door, slightly ticked from what he learned at the town post. But upon entering, he means business.
 
"So, you're hoping that these undead can show us the key to something? You'll find nothing in these ones. For I heard he vaporizes you with his breath. And if he did that to these poor souls, there'd be nothing left.
 
"As I came to this villiage, I met a warrior named Erdan. Some of you may know him. But he had fought Scorch and he saw his fellow brothers and sisters die before his very eyes. Burned to a crisp and smashed to pieces before they had a chance to do anything.
 
"So, I too would be wary and listen to Fancy here before entering that monestary again with the party we formed earlier, for we must train and find more help if we want to see if there actually is a nest."

"I do believe I heard a tale of a dragon who killed the former inhabitance of the monastery so the singed clothing might be a remnant of that." He says without taking his hand off the corpses head.
 
"As for the teeth could be the work of a basilisk." He says seeming to go out of focus for a moment as he says basilisk.

Gaius nods as Wyndfere finishes speaking.  "I'm afraid I must agree with Wyndfere. We should put the monastery to the back of our minds for the time being. If this thing is that powerful, we must train and become much stronger before we can handle a task like this. In other words, it is best to be cautious in this matter. One of these days, I fear we may not come back if we keep up these foolish trips to the monastery completely unprepared."

Solas's comedic facade visibly drops. He inhales sharply before exhaling gently. "Smells like rotting flesh. Not new rot either, old rot, days, weeks, months old." He says quickly. "Item on table must be some kind of corpse, possibly undead." He breathes in again. "Smell of burnt cloth, a mix of old and new." He snaps his head toward Akon, cocking it to the left. "You retrieved some corpses from the monestary. You reek of the same stench. I suggest bathing." He snaps back around to the corpse pieces. He inhales deep, again. "Yes! nooooo. Yes!" He says, again without breath. "You're all wondering what caused the older burn marks and scratches on the rib cage of the undead corpse retrieved from the monestary." He finally pauses for a moment. He grins again. "In all this time I forgot to mention... Im brilliant."

Chataya follows shortly after Wyndfere and moves to stand next to the Sheriff.

"This is hardly a fitting place for a corpse," she says, glancing around at the group. "Is there nothing I won't see in Jastrey? What are we looking for?"

Akon scoffs. "Get used to it. This is tame. I'd much rather see a rotting corpse on a tavern table than some of the things I've seen here...regardless. We are looking for clues as to what made these walking bags of flesh." Akon lets her head fall back, eyes closed once more as she sits again on the bench, face angled towards the tavern ceiling.

"Good point, Fancy. That is another problem entirely. What caused these creatures to walk again? Perhaps a corpsecrafter? Or perhaps a Black Fruit?" He looks around the room, "We may be in for some double trouble, friends."

"Bah. All this speculation is pointless. We can guess all we want, but we don't know anything more than we did since our last visit." Gaius gets up and begins to head out the door, clearly frustrated with the situation.

"Well, that would be another reason why we thought it may be Scorch or his kin. It is rumored that he is a dracolich. In which case walking singed corpses with dragon sized bite and claw marks forming around and from within a monastery that was previously attacked by dragonkin would make remarkable sense...." She pulls up her hood, blocking out the light from her eyes, furrowing her brows against the slight daylight trickling in the tavern windows.

Taking deep sigh, and grumlbing as she rises. "What is making so much racket outside...." She says as she stalks her way to the tavern door, pushing it opened annoyedly.