The dead cleric speaks

Eolar chants the words of the scroll over the remains of the dead cleric.
After a few moments the pile of ruined flesh shudders and rolls back, it's dead eyes staring upwards at the half elf standing over it.
"What do you want, tool of St. Cuthbert?"
Eolar commands in disgust: "Tell us of your group, fiend."
It's voice is broken and rasping.
"Why not? I care not what happens to them. My name was Chaplin, but I am dead now.
Bailey and I have adventured together many times. I wouldn't have called us friends but we had an 'understanding'. He'd do the fighting and I'd do the plotting. Mortimer and Reeves joined us later. They were just a couple of thieves but they worked well together and soon proved their value to us when stealth was required. The Raven haired, half-breed Ranger, Ancona and Izzard the spineless Gnome Magician were hired to help us track down the gambler. They might have become useful to me over time had I lived.
The cowards ran after the Owl bear killed me. I doubt they'd have given up, though. They probably just skirted the valley. They could afford to take their time, as Ancona shot the gambler with a poisoned arrow. He'll probably be dead like me within a few days."
Eolar is about to ask another question when the eerie light fades from the dead clerics eyes.

At least you know who you're are up against now!