The Beginning? Or the End?

Gerhart's first thought upon returning to consciousness is a string of sentences not to be repeated in polite company. His second thought was 'Ma head hurts way too much for only three pints.' His third, upon noticing he was in a hole, 'Well at least it's not the pig pen." He groaned, tried to sit up but lay back down when the world started spinning. Through his headache he registers what he was hearing from above his hole. "Ha, poison! Knew I wasn't tha much of a light weight" he grumbles aloud.

A loud "Hey" drives a spike into his head, "Oi! Not so loud, my head's trying to finish me off already, no need to help it along!" He shouts back grabbing at his face and massaging his aching skull.

Alithia woke with confusion to the many different strings of conversations around her but none of them made too much sense. The smell and feel of dirt under her was familiar after being in the woods for most of her life, though the pounding in her head was unusal. She didn't usually drink, and she had only drank a single pint with her dinner.


She sat up slowly, clutching her head with one hand and scrabbling for her bow with the other. It was then that the conversation taht woke her made sense. Poison! If someone had wanted her dead enough to poison her, then they probably stole her bow and sword. The thought made her jolt to her feet in anger,headache forgotten, whoever took her weapons was going to pay. It was then that she glanced around to see three other people standing in crudely dug graves.

"Where are we?" She asked, trying to get the others attention.

As each of them slowly, or swiftly in some cases pull themselves from the holes in which they'd been placed the two men seem to all but ignore their questions. They do, however, learn the nature of where they'd been placed. They had been thrown into a graveyard, and not a particularly well kept one at that. The trees linger overhead, their branches barren as they look ready to fall upon an unlucky mourner. 

The two men are currently filling their shovels with dirt ready to toss their loads into the pit that Shima climbed out from. The first man looked to be well into his late thirties, a dark unkempt beard falls from his full face. His clothing was hardly anything extravagant, a set of overalls with a worn shirt hid a thick layer of fat, but there seemed to be the slightest bit of muscle behind it. His friend on the other hand was a wiry fellow, hardly much more than skin and bones. He had a light woll cap that covered what appeared to be already thinning hair. His clothing was overly loose nearly falling off his thin frame as the fabric seemed out of place on his small body.

-"Wondah wha' they did ta make whoever it was hate 'em so much." The first grumbled as he tossed in the first pile of dirt towards Shima.

-"Well, they wayin I'm seeins it. They looks like the adventurin type. Maybe they thought they'd stopped some sorta killer, or heh maybe cleaned out some ruins he was usin' fer a base?" The second man chuckled as he tossed in another shovel's worth.

-"Wha, you readin' again? You know those stories are just fer kids right? Give 'em some sort of wunder about the outside world? Yer not supposed to actually believe in it." He frowned as he stopped fer a moment.

-"Well can't blame a lad for dreamin' can ya?" He grinned out.

-"Actually I can, nah get back ta work before I toss ya in wit' dis one." He said throwing in another pile of dirt.

Each pile they tossed seemed to fly right back Shima. It wasn't until the third toss that she realized that the dirt wasn't going past her, it was going through her. 

Metina growls as she watches them toss more dirt at the bear woman. I may not know the group I'm standing beside, but it's better than the men who are trying to put us in our graves. I reach for my bow, not drawing it, just reaching for it. At that moment is where I notice woman batting at the dirt, my eyes widening as I see it pass through her form. I immediately grab my bow to pull it out, hoping that my hand doesn't happen to somehow go through myself. My brain not fully comprehending what this would mean.

After being ignored Blair starts to become frustrated, but before she is able to say another word something catches her attention. She watches as not just one of the others, but 2 of them seem to pass through what they touched. "What is this?" Blair asks to herself. She then decides to kneel down, and and begin to pray to Levenrog.



Prepared Spells
2 cure wounds

Shima was the first to react to the apparent ignorance of their presence. A thorn like whip extending from her hands as it slashed right through the larger grave digger's body. As it did the man stopped for a brief second as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. The man shivered as he looked back to his compatriot.

-"Oi... Let's, let's finish dis up. I'm gettin da' willies here..." He grumbled as he obviously tried to put up a strong front over his shaken exterior.
-"Wha? Gettin scared over a couple'ah corpses? They's dead Monty, dead as a door nail, now get back to work." The smaller man scowled as he pulled his shovel from the dirt tossing another load into Shima's pit.

Shockingly enough as you each look at yourselves it seems all of your belongings from your last memories seem to be upon you, weapons, armor, trinkets, everything that once called you to life.

As Gerhart attempted to make contact he seemed to make even less of an impact than Shima's attempt, his hands phasing right through the men without so much as a shiver from him. A smokey gray substance fading over his hand as his form converged with the gravedigger for that brief moment, fading as his hand rested upon air once more. His last few words struck a chord as he turned towards the grave. His eyes first setting upon the ivory white tombstone where his name was written down, along with a simple date. 

'Gerhart Dohugul 931 Air 34'

As the others look towards their own they all see the same simple letters. As if they were all done as little more than a sign of respect for their existence as sentience beings. Each sharing the same date. 

His eyes peering down into the depths saw what he would fear most. His own corpse lying down in the pits of the earth. His skin pale white as his arms cross his chest. It didn't appear as though the person who afforded them the tombstones had given them the courtesy of coffins, instead simply pushing their bodies into the dirt to be forgotten. Although, as he looked down at his corpse something seemed off. Gerhart saw something that was not his, at least not to his knowledge. It was a silver chained pendant that wrapped around his neck. The pendant held a dark smokey purple colored gem that was hardly bigger than an inch in diameter. The pendant seemed simple, not particularly crude nor extravagant. If a passerby had looked upon him they might not have even noticed the pendant.

As others may look down upon their own bodies they notice similar oddities. Each bearing some sort of jewelry that carries the same smokey purple colored gem.

An earring for Shima, a broch pressed against Blair's armor, a ring across Alithia's left ring finger, and a wristband on Metina's arm.

Each piece of jewelry seemed rather insignificant. The craftsmanship not seeming particularly valuable, the gems seemingly flawed by their hues would hardly even interest grave robbers. But as each person would look on their currently otherworldly form, they would notice that the new possession their corpses seemed to have gained, they on the other hand do not possess.