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Immalor, Elf

"By the Three!" shouts Immalor

Realizing that even his mighty weapon can not hurt the creature, he continues to try and "draw fire" and strike the abomination.

It's getting slick & a bit bloody. The melee continues in the apse of the fane. The eldritch statue nearby seems to watch you from it's dozens of multi-faceted green gem eyes

Initiative rolls, party 6, monster 5, the party wins Init and will be 1st to act

Leon jabs again at the contruct with his dagger, atk roll 12+2=14 hits!, for 4+2=6 damage. The 7' tall flesh golem falls forward onto the blade as Leon retracts it like a serpent's tongue - and slumps to the floor with a dull crash. His face is turned to the side with his tongue hanging out slightly

Zavenorrin moves around to the rear of the battle, towards the 1st row of mostly slime dissolved pews. He sees in the shadowy torchlight the hilt of a sword. The blade is stuck into a pile of slimey wood debris, but appears to be a falchion with a somewhat flared end, and is in good condition despite the slimey residue. A suit of corroded chain mail and heavily decomposed round wooden shield also lies nearby. The chain mail suit is inhabited by a skeleton, but lies face down.

The party stands winded from the battle, with adrenaline still pumping through their veins.

What are your next actions?

Leon sounds his barbaric "YAWP!" as he clutches his bloody dagger. Before retrieving his long sword, he watches the moldy rope for a moment, reassuring himself that it really is a rope, not a frog tongue or tentacle or anything else he should be wary of. He barely notices his own bruise, but looks around asking, "Everyone all right, then? Hit hard, didn't it?"

Turin, cleric

Turin will cast Cure Light Wounds on himself and ask around if anyone else needs it.

Balfa tells the priest: "Thank you good cleric but I'm fine, this' but a flesh wound."

Zavenorrin answers Turin in a whisper: "I accept your help, friend. This frog outside did leave me a pretty noticeable souvenir with its teeth..." Then turning his head again toward the strange outstanding falchion he adds: "And maybe you can help me tell if this weapon and this pile of bones contain some kind of evilness!"

Eggi

"Nice fightin, friends!

Egbert looks to the Thief... "HEY! Yoo wanna play wit this here statue?? Them'z purdy gems, eh? I'll help ye any ways I can!" Eggi waits for direction from either the Thief or his party members.

Immalor, Elf

"This building does not look like its fit for habitation. Slime is everywhere! Perhaps we should investigate the place and then move on?"

Immalor moves over to the skeletal warrior in chain, and uses the butt of his axe to move and sift around the area.

Turin the cleric

Turin ultimately casts CLW on himself and Zavenorrin. He looks at the falchion and says, I am no authority on weapons nor a sage of magical knowledge. I might be able to help if you found a foreign Holy Symbol but for matters profane I'm afraid I'm not the man to ask.

Turin adept of Sif, mutters a prayer to his God, and lays hands upon himself & Zavenorrin, Turin heals 6+1=7, Zavenorrin heals 3+1=4 hit points.

The Temple stands eerily quiet now, with the din of battle died down. A breeze comes in thru the gaping hole in the east roof, fluttering the rope strand that hangs down.

The green gem eyes on the hideous statue look pryable to the Dwarf Egbert, though one would need to clamber about the structure to gain access to all. Closer inspection of the dangling rope reveals it is a rotted rope and there is a rusty grappling hook wedged up above in the hole in the roof at the other end of it. The giant dark brown boulder on the floor underneath the hole appears to be a meteorite.

Immalor kicks over the skeleton. It does not animate. Its face is melted bone. It's garb is also dissolved as are the wooden walls within this structure leaving mainly the one vast room.
It is now 5pm. It gets dark around 630pm. Late Autumn.
What are your actions?