She raises one hand and politely waits for acknowledgment.

"What is it?"

Oriana snickers quietly at the politeness, like they're in a classroom.

"What about less ball-y fire? My blue flames are quite good at burning only what I want. Caution is of course warranted. What about destruction of fineries and such in self defense? Also I can talk to ghosts. Sometimes. Depends on the ghost. Uh. Etiquette?"

"...Fireball or not, if you ignite a pocket of corpse-gas or burn down the tunnel supports and collapse a crypt, you'll need to make alternative burial arrangements because you won't be welcome here. Spells that are selective enough and accidental damage to grave goods can be forgiven."

"As for ghosts, there should not be any here. If there are, we've been remiss in our responsibilities. Ask them what's causing them to linger, put them to rest if you can, and tell us all about it either way."

Hand goes down. Deep breath.

Probably it's going to be a hurry up and wait situation. Hours of boredom and one minute of terror. That's how it goes.

There is an ominous stillness in the air of Potter's Ward. Mounds of unmarked dirt stretch far and wide, the sites of mass graves, while abandoned mausoleums crumble. The dead here have generally died without mourners to tend their burial sites. 

One of the mausoleums on the southern edge is marked by the statue of the gargoyle that was described. 

Caron casts a spell, and her pupils briefly shift shape to the arrowheads of Erastil's symbol before reverting to normal. She inspects the mud and rubble around the area.

"Here's the wheelbarrow trail from the latest body to be brought here. The human went back the same way. It looks like the corpse was dragged off into the tomb by a few smaller humanoids. Barefoot ones, not quite the right size for dwarves or halflings."

(She does remember to set up Party Chat before they really get going. And a general sound muffling buffer for everyone, which anyone can break by dropping the pebbles she attaches it to.)

There's a lot of humanoids that exist. Like those 'river ghosts'. Derros, she thinks?

"Not sure if I should shift now or wait," she mentions.

"Small minions might have small tunnels that you'd have to transform back for," Caron suggests. 

"Can you do other sizes?"

"Nope, it's humanoid or that size. Some of us are little- More like ordinary foxes, but not me."

Weird werefox with a spell for shifting forms: Confirmed??

What alignment does a werefox turn? Chaotic Something, probably, Chaotic Good or Neutral from the accounts of her behavior in that form? 

The martial half of the party approaches the entrance, Oriana and Tisharue a step ahead of Caron. 

"Anyone got a light?"

Tisharue wordlessly draws her longsword. With a short phrase in Elven, it bursts into smokeless flame.

She also offers insubstantial balls of glow in both hands and puts a lil fox fire on top of her head at tapping it with her tail.

And into the Dead Warrens they go.

The tomb they enter is an ossuary, the ceiling a tall dome held up by four large stone pillars, the walls lined with mud-caked skeletons. To the east and west, pits five yards across have been filled with heaps of hundreds of bones. To the south, a rough hole has been gouged out of the wall, leading into a tunnel lit by a pale blue light.

Some skeletons remain intact in each of the pits: Four humanoids to the west, and a Large partially-decomposed owlbear to the east. Their heads slowly turn towards the footsteps on the stairs with the faint scrape of bone against bone.

Grrrr.

"You tangle with the owlbear, we'll clear the others then back you up!"

She and Tisharue rush down the stairs to charge the humanoid skeletons before they can dig themselves out of the bone pile, while Caron and Vavana ready crossbow and cantrip.

Yeah okay she was also thinking 'go for the big one'. Even if a tiny part of her is considering being contrarian for the heck of it.

Let's see if the owlbear is at all disrupted by a sticky cloud of darkness around its head? And start striking at joints. She'll even bite if it's called for, horrid tastes in exchange for defeating monsters are nothing new.

She's going to try dodging but fully expects to take a few hits here. This one is big and there's a bunch of magic about it.

The owlbear skeleton lacks any special senses that could bypass the illusory cloud blocking its vision, and is forced to swipe at her blindly with bony claws like swords. Its motions are quick but also predictable, reaching back before each rake of the claw for more momentum and squatting back to lunge with its beak more forcefully, and it can only fight around the sturdy pillars by touch. 

The rotting flesh and feathers taste as foul as expected and slough off from the animated skeleton rather than giving Weiss a grip on the creature. Being composed of bone, smacking it around is the most effective at damaging it. 

Behind her, the sword-light flickers and the sounds of more metal on bone can be heard from the human-scale melee.

Crush this one, crush that one, block with her tail, which is magically durable, glance around to see if the 'plan', such as it is, has gone to shit-