[3.5E] Heretic's Bane Icewind Dale

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar is seething. Buehler never answered his question, and even if he had, he could easily lie. Listen to Buehler or listen to Gemma? Hells, both of them could be lying. He clenches the object in his hand tighter, until it almost draws blood.

Then Carmard places himself in command again, and passes the decision onto Thordek. Duervar relaxes his grip again. He could trust the warrior scholar further than either of the other major sides calling for their decision. He turns to face Thordek.

"Whatever you decide here, I'll go with you. There's a lot of questions we'll have to hunt for answers to after this, but for the moment, I'm your dwarf." He glances down at his hand for a moment, then towards the door. "There's no time to go over this in detail, but she's not lying when she says the Patriarch himself was a tyrant. I was a slave under his rule. He, Tolrin and the others brought me to safety when they fled the rest of the clan. They always said that it was because they realized that what they'd been doing was wrong, while Gemma's saying otherwise, and I can't tell if she's lying." He looks Thordek in the eye. "I could not care less about either of their cries of heresy or their interpretation of Moradin's words. Make your decision based on what you think is right, not what they keep telling you is. Heresy and the word of the gods is just whatever the latest tyrant says it is."

Sable's attack against Buehler stunned Duervar though. He waits for a moment to see if Buehler's in any condition to respond though.

[mshady]

Going Rogue

Sable moves from a tense standing position to wheeling around on Buehler without any hint she was about to strike. She moves in a deadly blur and tries to Buehler with her rapier, driving the blade right for his ear. The dwarf’s reflexes are far in excess of what any of his race should have, and he twists his head just enough for razor sharp edge of the rapier to open up a nasty wound on the side of his skull despite the Stoneskin spell that still protected him. The hilt of the sword hits him hard though, and he grunts from the impact and stumbles away from Sable. A sheet of blood covers the side of his face and Buehler curses nastily from the wound.

Sable inflicts a 6 HP wound on Buehler, far less than she had hoped.

Buehler turns towards her and raises his sword into a guard stance. Blood runs down the side of his face, staining his beard.

“So is this how it’s going to be!?” he yells at them, than repeats his words. He points his finger at Sable, and smiles nastily at her. “I knew if it came to it, it would be you” he says to her, his voice angry. "Damned mercenary"

“Come on, is some human the only one around here who can make a choice?” he says and shakes his head with contempt. “Look at them! They’re coming. What’s it going to be?” he snarls at the group. “Is it going to be the cripple, some broken down slave, or some snot nosed scholar? How about Kaladus’ apologist? The Arcanii no one wanted? Or maybe the dumb waiter hiding in his cousin’s shadow?” he says and flips sword to the ground with contempt.

He pounds his fist into his chest and snarls at the group again.

“They’re coming. What’s it going to be?” he says and crosses his arms across his chest, daring the group to move against him.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sable grits her teeth. "Damned thick-skulled dwarves," she mutters.

She look around at her stunned audience. "Well? Grab him and hand him over!"

-hopefully somebody actually does so, and as he's bring dragged off-

She yells back at Beuhler, "I have a mission to accomplish, remember!? Why don't you do something useful and go yell at your enemies rather than your allies?"

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar shakes his head at Buehler's rant. "I've made my choice. You're a liar, and so's Gemma. I can't trust either of you at the moment. So I'm choosing the group. I'll get everyone out that I can, or stay and protect the bomb with my life. I'm choosing the people I trust and believe in. If I get out of this, then I'll see if I can get some solid answers."

He looks over to Sable. "What's your goal here? Protect the bomb or get out now?"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

After Carmard field-promotes him, Thordrek answers him quickly and sarcastically

Oh yes, thank you so much...

During the ten or so seconds he takes to consider his options, Sable suddenly attacks Buehler and he continues to make an ass of himself. Exasperated, Thordreks snaps at him then speaks to the whole group

Oh shut up you jackass. From the way you're acting it looks like you actually want us to hand you over. We can teleport 9 people away, there's eleven of us, so unless it's to help with that problem stop talking. Now this is what we do, if 2 of you can get away on their own, we chance teleporting away right now. If 1 can, we leave Buehler to his friends, and honor his sacrifice, if none can... words cannot express how sorry I am to say this Kelith but we can't even begin to carry you to safety, so we'll make sure they can't... torture you and teleport away, and may the gods have mercy on me for even considering it.

So, what is it going to be?

[mshady]

Kelith

The priest of Kossuth nods simply in response to Thordrek's words. Crippled by the dragon's full weight in a bold attempt to bait it away from the group, that he survived that surprised even him. As he nods though, Thordrek and others can see some fear in his eyes.

"I understand..." he says, and than touches his holy symbol of Kossuth. "If they're anything like Buehler, dying here is best. I've no desire to live life in a chair, when I can serve Kossuth. My faith forbids I take my own life directly though. If that's the choice, Thordrek, than I ask you do it for me"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Nalrak is stymied by the madness unfolding around him. He'd take a moment to cauterize Buehler's wound, but he wouldn't be surprised if the Commander lashed out at him even for that. He was running around lashing out at everything in sight like a wounded animal, and Nalrak honestly couldn't tell if it was caused by mortal fear or a cunning plan to force them into handing him over.

He puts the thoughts of Buehler out of his head for a moment and crouches next to the crippled priest. "Kelith, are you certain?" he asks. "We can try to make it quick, but there's not much we can do to make it painless. We can still teleport you, if there's two able to make it out on their own." He looks around to the rest of the group and asks, "There are two among us who can get out on our own, aye?"

[Grodech]

Grathalmor grabs Beuhler's sword that he had tossed down. "You wanna stop 'em? Then stop 'em!" He throws the sword out the door. "I'd say start with 'da golem." He moves back to Carmard and Buna and assumes a stance similar to Beuhler's own. "Stop takin' shots at everyone else and get yer arse movin'"

It was clear to him that nobody was making it out of here on their own if the stoneburner actually went off. If it didn't, Sable stood the best chance. She was Beuhler's mercenary, after all. Why should they take her with them? He didn't voice any of this, anyway. He wished Thordrek would actually make a decision instead of giving them choices.

[mshady]

Buehler

The dwarf watches Grathalmor toss his sword out the door and scoffs at him. It clatters on the stone outside the door, and the sound makes Buehler wince slightly. Obviously, the sword was precious to him, and that grimace was quickly replaced with a scowl.

"Stop them? Stop the golem? Hah!" Buehler says darkly to Grathalmor. He looks out the door, and sees the phalanx of armored dwarves.

"Fine!" he snorts, "Gotta die of something, may as well take someone with me"

Buehler heads for the door, and pauses for a moment before looking back.

"Take Kelith with you. The Patriarch and the High Faenor can fix him. Sorry for holding out on ye, but we needed to leave someone behind who wasn't gonna bitch about it" he says. "Leave Sable, she's dead already. She knows what I have on her. Come on Sable, why don't you turn me in and maybe Gemma can fix yer problem if you kiss her ring, eh?"

Buehler looks at her with intent eyes and motions for her to come with him.

"It's your only chance, and you get to watch'em cut my head off. What a show, eh?" he says to her and waves for her to join him.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

As Buehler's tide suddenly turns from anger back to his usual arrogance, Nalrak watches in stunned silence. Buehler's parting words to them are the closest thing to an order that Nalrak's heard since everything went South with the poison gas and golems. The doctor's mind drifted to thoughts of whether Buehler was truly a heretic and, if so, where his soul would spend eternity. He didn't much like the options--he didn't much like the order itself--but he had given his word that he'd follow Buehler's commands.

Rising to his feet, he grimly says "Aye, sir." Nalrak turns back to the others and says, "You heard the Commander. That makes ten of us--Sable, shall we leave you with him? Or does anyone have a way they can get out without teleporting?"

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

The half-duergar watches as Buehler heads out the door. He felt a twinge of guilt watching him leave. The dwarf had been one of the original group, and had helped save Duervar, even if he'd been against it. "It's not worth much, but I am sorry for how this has turned out. This entire operation has fallen apart."

He feels like laughing at Nalrak's last question. "The only way I'm walking out of this is if Buehler's lying and I join Gemma. I doubt anyone would be interested in accepting me into their group though. It's surprising enough that the Patriarchate's accepted me this long."

[Gorgon_Heap]

The human woman seethes at her failed surprise attack, but is infuriated by the others' inaction. She shakes her head in horrified wonderment and glares contemptuously at everyone.

At Nalrak and Beuhler's words she face loses anger and gains incredulousness. She scowls at their wretch of a commander. "Oh, yes. This is it, now."

She snorts in disgust.

"I might wonder how bound I am exactly. My mission is to make certain the stoneburner activates and the enemies of the Patriachate are destroyed. The gaes spell you placed on me doesn't specify I have to see it all firsthand.

"They certainly won't take me along if I kill one of them, will they? I wonder if they can carry me out in a bag of holding or some such if I'm in gasseous form? Or if I can find some crack in a wall and float to safety on the winds?

She sniffs in a sort of annoyed punctuation, her earlier madness replaced with a calm finality. "It looks like you're right - I'm dead either way. You go and fight, but no matter what I'm not giving you the satisfaction of watching me die."

[King Tius]

Hjalmar Crownshield

The old Paladin keeps a strong grip on his new hammer. He preferred actions to words and all this talking just made his head hurt. He waits patiently at the ready for things to devolve, his feet planted firmly apart and shield half-ready. His impatience continues to mount as the grandstanding continues. Moradin's Beard, how that Buehler could talk. Finally, his crotchety nature overwhelms the learned patience of 250 long years. "I'm not gettin' any younger over here. If it's a fight we're havin', let's get on with it. Unless you plan on boring that golem to death, we're wastin' time. If we're runnin' away on the skirts of the wizarding types, hurry up. I could use a drink."

He is well aware that he isn't adding anything to the conversation but as far as he is concerned, nobody is.

[mshady]

Buehler

The dwarf stops mid-turn and looks back at Sable. He bites his lower lip and looks at her, with a look of serious annoyance. He glances back to where his sword landed, than back at Sable, trying to judge something. Finally he just growls and turns around.

"How hard is this? You'd rather kill a good man you can save that's served us for years than some murderer for hire? That its a consideration be offensive! Kelith, ye want to live?" Buehler asks Kelith.

"Live and not tied to a chair?" a confused Kelith says, propping himself up off the floor. "Um, yes?"

"Thought so" he says to Kelith, than turns his gaze to Sable. "Choice made. You always were a willful brat, Gods yer thick!" he says to Sable, than thrusts his hand in her direction and snaps his finger. A cloud of sparkling blue and white energy swirls in a vortex around her head for a moment, like some sort of crown before being absorbed into her head. As the spell takes hold, the anger in Sable's eyes blaze, promising painful death.

Save v. Spell - Rolled 14 v. DC19

Just as suddenly, she was calm and dopey eyed and compliant, the fight disappearing out of her.

"Come to me, Sable. Run!" Buehler beckons her, than looks back at the crowd and shrugs.

"Take care of Kelith" he tells them, and disappears out the door in a sprint with Sable in tow, following him without question.

[mshady]

Aftermath

"What a bastard..." Buna remarks, shocked by the suddeness of what just transpired between Buehler and Sable. "Was nice know'n her, but that makes 9!"

About 20 feet in the air over the group, there is a weak flash of light again and a soft pop as Buna finishes her words. Blue sparks flutter to the ground noiselessly, but even the faint illumination in the darkness draws attention.

Kelith looks up from his sitting position and points up into the air.

"What was that?" the cleric asks, squinting as he tries to see.

Buna looks and frowns at the sparks, than exchanges a look with Carmard.

"I think that's a sign..." Carmard remarks dryly at the fluttering sparks.

"Aye. A sign that we're leaving" Buna adds. She throws Carmard's arm over her shoulder, and looks at Nalrak with an impatient scowl.

"Well what are you wait'n for, windbag? Pick up Kelith and move yer arse!" she barks at the Doctor.

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

The half duergar stares in surprise as Buehler magically drags Sable out with him. "Um... Okay." He moves over quickly and hauls Kelith, still tied to his chair, towards Buna. "Looks like you might just live to meet your overgrown fire elemental yet."

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The doctor moves to help Duervar, but his strength is nothing near that of the warrior's. "Where do we...have to go to...teleport out of here?" he grunts between attempts to haul the chair.

[Grodech]

"Leave da chair cuz." Grathalmor says to Nalrak. He moves to Buna and Carmard and takes Carmard over his shoulder like he did to get him here. "Like dis.". He grunts with the effort, but maintains his steady footing. "If ya can't, Duervar should have da strength."

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Mouth slightly open, Thordrek watches as the jackass dominates Sable and they run out before he has a chance to act. The sparks shock him into action as he realises it's much too risky to teleport right next to the stoneburner. He takes from his belt his enlarge person wand. He uses it and grows until he is 10 feet tall and therefore much more able to lift someone. He quickly cuts Kelith loose from his chair and slings him over his left shoulder in a move that is sure to make Nalrak wince for his spine damage. Finally, he quickly tosses the wand to Buna and simple tells her

Duervar and Grath! Everyone, we have to get as far away as we can or else the stoneburner is going to frak up our teleportation. Grathalmore, you have Carmard, Duervar, pick up Arman, he's in no shape to run either. Everyone else, pick up as much gold as you're comfortable running with and go!


With his right hand he picks up the bag holding his discarded armour and extra treasure as well as Kelith's bag.

(With enlarge person active, Thordrek has Str 20 and a max load of 400 pounds and is large. Being a dwarf, that doesn't affect his speed (and that speed should now be 30 feet BTW), so I figure he can lift Kelith and his gear with relative ease)

[mshady]

The 9 remaining members of the party don't wait for permission from the other dwarves to leave. Figuring Buehler was going to turn himself in or die fighting, no one wanted to be here any longer. The undead that Nalrak had raised to defend the temple against any invaders stood silently, not quite recognizing the approaching dwarves as enemies.

Thordrek enlarges himself enough to easily throw Kelith over his shoulder, and the fire priest groans in agony from the movement. At least he could feel something, though. Grathalmor helps the Arcanii he had sworn to protect, supporting Carmard as they withdrew. Similarily, Nalrak helps the crippled Arman in his withdrawal.

They make the best time that they can, pulling out of the Cathedral and heading for the stairway to the surface. Behind them, they can see Buehler and Sable standing in front of the armored dwarves. Thordrek even sees Buehler wave at them as they approached, either friendly or mocking it was hard to tell.

That was the last the party saw of them.

Behind them, the Stoneburner blazed brighter.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman had no thoughts on the whole situation. He knew of the dwarven gods, but he was not of that religion. Nor did he know enough of the background of the patriarche and the dwarves around him, to make a decision as to what side to take.

Mystra and Corellion were his. Both considered to be not of the faith to the dwarves.

He watched as Sable joined Buehler and then attacked him with her sword, seeming to choose to hand him over to Gemma in that motion alone.

Things happened fast from there, and soon Buehler was heading towards his judgement with sable at his heels like a eager puppy. One with tears threatening to overflow and spill down her face. It wasn't her choice it seemed. Arman had seen the spell land on her, and felt sorry for her. He was too far away at this time to realize there was nothing more that could be done. Sable was on her own. Hopefully Gemma would see that she was being treated as a pawn, and make a decision.

Arman grabbed what he could of gold and gems that he saw before Nalrak grabbed him and they made a run for it. Arman helped out as best as he could to make it easier. He wasn't heavy by any standards, but still, he was a dead weight to carry.

[mshady]

DM Note:Sorry for the delay guys, needed a few days off to recharge a bit…

The group heads towards the stairwell, hoping to escape the immediate vicinity of the Stoneburner so they could safely teleport out. Not that this had been the plan exactly, but it was the plan they had at this point. They move as quickly as they can, with three of their number crippled by the long running battles of their mission. As they get closer to the stairs though, their hearts drop from what they see.

Ten of the armored dwarfs they had saw before, as well another dwarf wearing robes over armor along with a badge of rank, stand in the stairwell. They block their movement forward, at least physically. This would seem to be a rear guard, ready to deal with anyone who came from behind. Unfortunately, they had been following the actions of their commander as well, and had watched the arrival of the Patriarchate group.

“Halt!” calls out the voice of a female dwarf, as they approach a distance of about 60 feet. “Come no further! I not be permitting ye your exit until I receive a signal from Primus Silvernail. If Buehler is taken into custody, you shall pass. If this be a trick, our orders are to capture or kill you. This will be known in a few minutes time. The human female you left is turning him over now” the Arcanii says to them, her voice firm and authoritative.

[Grodech]

They had left Beuhler behind, but Grathalmor seriously doubted there would be any taking into custody. It wasn't his place to voice that though. Grathalmor shifted Carmard's weight and looked at Thordrek to see what he would say.

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar almost snarls at the dwarf's instructions. "We were told that as long as we stood aside, we'd be free to leave. At this point, we have no control over what he tries to pull. I don't want to tie my life to him playing nice."

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek curses at the further complication, but realizes that they weren't going to be able to fight their way out without a protracted and deadly battle they may very well lose and relaxes a bit.

Aye, the man gave himself up, as you apparently know. But if we've got to wait... Might as well be civil about it. Wait here guys

He gently sets Kelith and props him into a sitting position with the bags. He then walks slowly towards the clockwork armoured dwarves, hands to the side and trying to appear the least aggressive he can. After a few meters he gives the female leader a small bow and addresses her.

I'm Thordrek Torrun, and I appear to be in charge of what's left of our expedition. We didn't fight through hordes of fiends, orcs, goblins, giants and a few dragons only to end up fighting our kin, so as long as you don't try to detain us longer then necessary I don't see why we can't spend that time talking. I have many questions about your presence here, and I'm sure you have some about the Surface as well

(note for sense motive checks that this is not a ploy, he just wants to talk)

[mshady]

Addressed

A dwarf in the center of the group steps forward before speaking. He moves with a swish of metal against leather, along with a rapid ticking of his mechanized armor. His armor is somewhat different, enameled in black and trimmed in gold. A badge of rank sits on the left breast of his armor, and it looks like a sunburst with a black anvil upon it.

Getting a closer look at the armor, it is substanial and not made of thin armor but riveted plate. It probably represents several hundred pounds of steel, but it was hard to tell. The mechanics of it may take up substantial space as well, but would they needed it if the armor was not too heavy for a normal dwarf. It made even Hjalmar's bulky armor look trim.

"Hail, Thordrek of the Dwarves" the deep voice inside the armor says. "Listen well to our Arcanii, and stand put. If the Trickster surrenders quietly, or dies without complication, you may pass. We do not have that expectation, but Moradin surprises us all" the dwarf says, and laughs humorlessly. Calling someone "of the dwarves" was somewhat insulting. You said that you were of the dwarves if one did not trust others to know your clan. Calling another dwarf that was like calling him Clanless, making it insulting at least in terms of etiquette.

"Should he not surprise us, ye will not be allowed to leave. Yer surrender will be demanded. If not accepted, it will be enforced. Should none you be taken by this heresy, ye will be educated on the true ways and allowed Conversion Purification. The non-dwarfs in your Company shall be released. Do not resist us" the dwarf informs Thordrek.

He turns his attention to Duervar for a moment, though.

"We were told there were two escapees in this Company, Buehler and his Valet, a mongrel dwarf. That one is not offered safe conduct. He is wanted for murder of a priest of Moradin and two subordinate clergy"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

If there was one thing a doctor hated, it was waiting. If there was work to be done, that was one thing--even a problem presenting itself was an opportunity to begin solving--but simply waiting was the slowest and most excruciating form of torture for a dwarf so trained to diagnose and treat. He paced nervously to and fro while waiting for Buehler to find his manners...a bleak prospect indeed. However, once the dwarf speaks up about Duervar.

"Brother," he steps forward and responds to the ranking officer, "those were not the terms we agreed to as laid out by Gemma Silvernail. She promised safe passage for all but Buehler; surely the Unalloyed Church knows the importance of an unblemished word? It would bode well for us ALL to leave posthaste; the Holy Anvil has been transported for safekeeping, and the events already unfolding here are past the point of no return."

[roll0]

[Grodech]

Grathalmor leaned in towards Buna and whispered so that (preferably) only her and Carmard could hear. "Can da teleports be done from here?"

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

The half-duergar laughs. "Don't even bother doctor. They're self righteous enough that they aren't going to let me leave. I'll be surprised if they let any of us leave. They're going to look for any excuse they can to stop us. Conversion Purification? Sounds like religiously justified brainwashing and torture to me."

He holds out the silver holy symbol of Moradin he'd been clutching all this time. "I suppose you're looking for this? The holy symbol of the priest tasked with watching over the slaves for the glory of Moradin? The holy symbol of the dwarf that wanted to slaughter all of the slaves so that they could leave easier? The priest that had my brother whipped to death?" Duervar kept his voice tightly under control, but his hand was shaking. "Or have you told yourselves another story? I know how you folks work. Tell lies about your past so you can pretend you were good people. I suppose now he was just a kind, gentle priest, never deserving of the horrible fate that befell him. Come on, tell me. Which one did I kill? The slave master or the kind dwarf?"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

After being rebuffed by the clockwork soldier, Thordrek slowly walks back towards the others, annoyance clear on his face. Then the situation with Duervar arises.

Oh by Moradin's hairy ballsack, can't one thing go right on this thrice damned bloody fracking mission!

Thordrek swears loudly and dejectedly, past caring that taking Moradin's name in vain in front of the zealots might not be a good idea. He stomps the rest of the way back, where he is barely able to restrain himself from hitting Duervar. He quickly gets the attention of Arman, Buna and Carmard

Are we far enough? If not we're going to have to kill them or chance it anyway, I get the feeling that if we disable or jam the mechanism they'll be as mobile as beached whales, so prioritize frost, rust and acid attacks

[Grodech]

Grathalmor sets Carmard down and helps him steady himself on his one foot. "Got an extra urgosh if ya wanna use it as a crutch." he says to the arcanii.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The color drains from Nalrak's face; the doctor feels helpless as the situation around him rapidly spirals further and further out of control. Between their detainment, Duervar's revelation, and Thordrek's curses, it seemed reality had become a far different picture than the one Gemma had painted. "Fathers forgive us," he whispers in prayer as his mind rapidly jumps to the worst-case scenario: a bloody death for all of them, and failure in their objective.

[mshady]

Nalrak Ironfist

If there was one thing a doctor hated, it was waiting. If there was work to be done, that was one thing--even a problem presenting itself was an opportunity to begin solving--but simply waiting was the slowest and most excruciating form of torture for a dwarf so trained to diagnose and treat. He paced nervously to and fro while waiting for Buehler to find his manners...a bleak prospect indeed. However, once the dwarf speaks up about Duervar.

"Brother," he steps forward and responds to the ranking officer, "those were not the terms we agreed to as laid out by Gemma Silvernail. She promised safe passage for all but Buehler; surely the Unalloyed Church knows the importance of an unblemished word? It would bode well for us ALL to leave posthaste; the Holy Anvil has been transported for safekeeping, and the events already unfolding here are past the point of no return."


Duervar

The half-duergar laughs. "Don't even bother doctor. They're self righteous enough that they aren't going to let me leave. I'll be surprised if they let any of us leave. They're going to look for any excuse they can to stop us. Conversion Purification? Sounds like religiously justified brainwashing and torture to me."

He holds out the silver holy symbol of Moradin he'd been clutching all this time. "I suppose you're looking for this? The holy symbol of the priest tasked with watching over the slaves for the glory of Moradin? The holy symbol of the dwarf that wanted to slaughter all of the slaves so that they could leave easier? The priest that had my brother whipped to death?" Duervar kept his voice tightly under control, but his hand was shaking. "Or have you told yourselves another story? I know how you folks work. Tell lies about your past so you can pretend you were good people. I suppose now he was just a kind, gentle priest, never deserving of the horrible fate that befell him. Come on, tell me. Which one did I kill? The slave master or the kind dwarf?"

Provocation

The dwarf commander tilts his head in Nalrak's direction and regards him. Nalrak and the others notice that the head pivots, rather than moves naturally, like the helmet is a kind of turret. They could only presume there was a dwarf inside here, but who knew? There was no sign of beards on any of them. They sounded like dwarves. Obviously the Patriarchate had experience binding souls to constructed devices and perhaps this Clan had improved upon that too?

As Nalrak finishes his words, Duervar interjects his own spite and the situation seems headed downward quickly after that.

"The Great Anvil of Moradin, where The Smith forged the axe of the Father of Battle has been removed? Destroying a holy site was not enough you plundered it for your own heretical usage? Better it have been lost to fire than in your hands" the dwarf(?) inside the armor asks, and this time there is a real tone in his deep voice.

It was an angry tone. His hand rotates the massively bearded axe in his hand in a clockwise fashion several times before he turns to Duervar.

"You are an infamous dwarf" the black armored dwarf informs Duervar. "You speak as if your enslavement was a crime and you a victim of it. If you were a dwarf versed in the Old Ways, you would know yerr murder and escape was a crime against yer place. The Code of Moradin compels us that enslavement of captives taken in war is a mercy, for they keep their lives and redeem their souls from the stain of defeat by laboring for their Clan and Patron. Every one of them was offered death or toil, and chose toil. As they accept dishonor, they lived dishonored, Clanless and without the Rites of Kin and Clan to serve their betters.

No one was mistreated, but accorded the respect they had earned. Those born into it are blameless themselves, but as all of us do, they must carry the weight of their Ancestors. Your mother was raped by a Duergar and chose to bear her dishonor to term than take your life or hers. Your own mother sold you into debt bondage to the very Duergar that defiled her, making you chattel. In turn, you were sold to us because we saw there was yet some dwarf in you, despite the darkness of your skin we hoped that did not extend to your soul.

You were given a chance to fulfill what little role you had in life and to do so in honor as an important part of our Clan. You were still part of the Clan. Still allowed to pray and still could partake in our faith, our rites and ceremonies in your own way. We all serve Moradin differently in this life, so we may all serve him equally in the next. You forget how those slaves who accepted their place, accepted their Clan and Faith, oversaw others and a few even worked themselves back to an honored status in their own lifetimes.

No, you refused to honor the All Father, your true father, and were punished. You acted out and were punished. You refused to work, and were punished. To spare you the whip would have been a disservice to your eternal soul, for nothing our priests did could convince you to accept yer place, which was the inheritance from your Ancestors, whatever mongrel lot they might have been.

You not only rejected your place, you killed the cleric who tried to return you to your place so you could occupy it with contentment. Yet you wonder why you have a troubled soul? That, Duervar Kinslayer, is why I say you killed a good dwarf, why it was a crime and murder. We tell no stories, it is you who have told jaundiced stories to help you cope with your crime and lack of place. That cleric had a name, Maratus Mettelsonn, and I offer you one chance to turn over his focus before I cleave it from your hand"

[mshady]

Carmard and Buna to Thordrek and Grathalmor

Carmard takes the spare spear axe (urgosh) and puts the blocky axe head under his shoulder to brace himself. As dwarf field crutches went, he was certainly using a traditional method.

He looks back at the blazing Stoneburner and the distant figures of Buehler, Sable, Gemma and several clockwork soldiers and shakes his head.

"I would not chance it. The delicacy of a teleport, especially off scrolls, cannot be overstated especially if the proper memory techniques about where we are going has not been utilized. The magic here is... not quite wild, but it is surging. The magic might work, or it may suffer a surge. Or it could be snuffed out like a small flame in a wind storm. If the magic is simply drawn into the Stoneburner, that is one thing. If it surges though, a magic that turns you into energy and sends you somewhere else that is suddenly many times more powerful then intended... could be very bad"

"Like how bad?" Buna asks.

"Mmmm. Like you arrive in pieces, or with pieces in wrong places, like wearing your heart outside your chest? Or worse, you arrive whole in an inferno of magical energy. Or you could become a fireball of hair, teeth and eyeballs. We're not sure, it is all theory and I harken to try to prove that kind of magical theory. A Gate spell uses energy to open a portal and the more energy, the more you can do with the portal as Kaladus demonstrated. Teleport involves you becoming energy, a very, very specific amount arranged in a very specific way. It tis best not to tinker with that formulae, for it can be unforgiving in normative times"

"So we need to put as much rock and as much distance as we can between us and the Stoneburner, yes?" Arman asks, inquisitive and interested in the discussion of magical theory.

"Yes. Meaning we must go through them to do it" Carmard says, gesturing towards the massively armored dwarves. "The key is through them though. Their armor is complex, and therein lies its vulnerability, if any. They may be disabled and certainly they cannot be swift. We only need to get past them... although after what I just heard, killing a few would not overly burden my soul with guilt" Carmard says dryly.

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar snorts and spits at the feet of the dwarf speaking with him. "I don't give the contents of an outhouse for your old ways. Slavery is a vile, broken existence, and any who support it are cruel, twisted beings who care not for the lives and autonomy of others. There is no honour or redemption in a slaves existence. There is only misery and death. Give as much of your life over to any being as you miserable lot have to your god, and you lose any sense of perspective. You are the true slaves here, bowed down to a tyrant that cares not one bit for a single one of you. Tell yourself that it was for my own good, tell yourselves that you are only doing as your masters told you, tell yourselves that Moradin approves and loves you. Lie to yourself that you are a good person. Me? I chose to live free of that garbage. You can enslave me, beat me, kill me. I will gladly accept torment and torture on the Wall of the Faithless over the miserable, blind faith you have accepted for yourself. Your system is broken, and has broken you with it."

He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the group. "I don't ask you to stand with me. This is my fight, and I won't force any of you to die with me."

He throws the symbol to the ground and smashes his pick down on it, impaling it half way up the length as the pick embeds itself in the ground, then pulls itself back up without harm. "I'll give you that murdering bastards holy symbol back when I imprint it upon your armour and your heart. Come and take it from me if you truly want it."

Using my Stone Dragon War Pick.
hp: 94/97; DR 2/- (I just noticed that my armour is adamantine)
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek



Not happening, our "esteemed commander" is a complete ass who wanted us to leave him behind as far as I can figure, but you're a comrade and, for the moment, under my command. I'm not leaving you here.

He chuckles sardonically

Ironically, I couldn't face my gods with my head held high if I did, and I expect the others feel the same way. If they don't then I'll damn well order them to


Thordrek pulls the group into a huddle

Alright, the plan is to get away, not to kill them, even though as Carmard said that wouldn't keep me up at night. We are however going to have to take their arcani out. When I give the signal I want everyone with ranged capacity to open up on her and keep it up until she's down. She's the priority target. Secondary target is the one Duervar has marked out. Stay together, help each-other, stay together, keep moving, stay together and protect the wounded. Buna, handle Kelith. If someone has a better idea, you have ten seconds.

While he waits those ten seconds, he buffs himself with his animalistic power wand.

[mshady]

Here is the map. Sorry for it looking familiar, but it is much better with this group of bad guys versus the other group with Gemma, I assure you!

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/43/lastcallrd1.jpg/

http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/371/lastcallrd1.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/43/lastcallrd1.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist


Alright, the plan is to get away, not to kill them, even though as Carmard said that wouldn't keep me up at night. We are however going to have to take their arcani out. When I give the signal I want everyone with ranged capacity to open up on her and keep it up until she's down. She's the priority target. Secondary target is the one Duervar has marked out. Stay together, help each-other, stay together, keep moving, stay together and protect the wounded. Buna, handle Kelith. If someone has a better idea, you have ten seconds.

"Aye, captain Thordek," Nalrak nods. He still didn't like the thought of leaving Buehler behind, but the commander had practically ordered it himself. As he eyes the dwarves blocking the steps, he thinks of something: "Might be best to stick in groups no larger than two or three until the arcani is down, sir. Otherwise she could fry us all with one well-placed fireball. I can dispel her magic quickly, but only have it in me to do it twice. I'll identify any spells she's casting; permission to dispel freely or should I wait for your go?"

[mshady]

Avalanche Drop

"Hey, look behind us! They're going to kill Buehler!" Kelith calls out.

The group turns to look, almost reflexively, to see what it was Kelith saw.
They see a distant Buehler on the ground, being struck by Gemma. She savagely kicks the dwarf, but he gets back to his feet like some sort of punch drunk boxer who refused to go down. Instead of taking another blow though, he grabs Sable and pulls her backwards and points up at the sky light that the dragons of the Aurilites had used.

A moment later, a bright blue flare of energy bursts from Buehler and engulfs both him and Sable. From several hundred feet away, they can hear Sable's shrill cry of pain before the two of them disappear into the blue blaze of energy. The light is intense enough to make almost everyone look away for a moment. When they look again, the two of them are gone. Motes of blue energy float in the air where they were and Gemma is crawling back to her feet, clutching at her eyes painfully.

The group turns from that scene to look upwards as the sight of dozens of ropes and heavy bags fall to the ground with heavy metallic thuds while soldiers grab the ropes and start sliding down them before the ropes have even landed.

On the other side of the sky light though, they all watch a massively armored dragon take a flying leap into the sky light. The dragon is covered in thick plates and clearly its wings are too encumbered to be of use as more than weapons. Atop it is a rider, but they only catch the barest of glimpses of him. The dragon tumbles downwards, falling well over a hundred feet until at the last moment, its descent is arrested by the flare of a spell. It lands on the ground, not gently, but not hard as soldiers are streaming down their ropes into the cavern. By a quick estimate, there may be as many as 200 of them, whatever race they might be, they were clearly well trained.

The dragon and the soldiers land between the Stoneburner and the marching Jilkers, After a moment of getting its feet under it, the massively armored dragon lets out a thunderous roar. The beast was as big, if not bigger, than the other dragons they had fought earlier. Not waiting for the other soldiers to make their landing, the dragon immediately charges right at the well-ordered formation of troops, and Gemma was nowhere near them to help. The dragon crashes into the formation of dwarves with a crunching impact, sending suits of armor flying and gears spinning in an explosion of violence. An ice blue blast of frost scours the group, before wings, tail, claws and mouth start flashing about...

"Duplicitous heretics!" the dwarf commander calls out, but even he is momentarily in awe of the sheer violence of the dragon for he can only watch for a moment.

Turning his attention back to Duervar, he lifts his heavy axe and points it at Duervar.

"In the name of Moradin, you are sentenced to death for your crimes. The rest of you shall share his fate for consorting with the followers of the Snow Maiden!" he calls out to the group.

The methodical ticking of the clockwork armor is interrupted for a moment, before it is replaced with a rapid mechanical thrumming sound like the pounding of a mechanized heart. A moment later, the armor of each dwarf begins to vibrate and they suddenly seem to move much faster and more fluidly...

Everyone, please roll initiative!!

[Grodech]

"Fools!" Grathalmor yells "It's da Aurilite troops here ta stop us! We were trying ta catch them in da blast, now you've doomed us all." Grathalmor pulls one of his pistols [move action], levels it at the leader and pulls the trigger [standard action], hoping the bullet will cause problems with the mechanical armor.

[messed up the dice code - it didn't roll - see next post]

"Go round the right." he says to Carmard and Buna, "I'll try ta clear ya a path."

Edit: Since Grathalmor's low init roll puts him behind, he'll likely use it against a different one than the commander (such as J9), as he will likely be engaged by then.
Stats:
Grathalmor Ironfist
HP 94/94
AC: 26, Touch 13, FF 26
Readied Maneuvers: Steel Wind, Stone Bones, Mountain Hammer, Mithral Tornado
Current Stance: Stone Foot Stance

[Grodech]

Ranged touch attack [roll0]
Damage:
[roll1]
[roll2]

[King Tius]

Hjalmar Crownshield

The old dwarf feels his new hammer tremor in excitement as the dragon descends. He can practically feel the hammer trying to drag him towards the dragon. "We've got other business to attend to first, ya daft hammer!" Hjalmar plants his feet and hurls Morzhul at the leader.

"I doubt all this infighting is what the Soul Forger had in mind when he carved us from the stone."

Initiative: [roll0]
Hammer Attack: [roll1]
Hammer Damage: [roll2] + [roll3] Fire

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

hp: 94/97; DR 2/-
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

Duervar laughs at the fool before him. "You moron. You come to stop us from planting a bomb in the home of the Aurilites, then you think we're working with them? This was their home base! They had an entire army here! You righteous idiot."

Initiative: [roll0]

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Lunging forward, Duervar plants his feet firmly in front of the dwarf and grips his pick tight. Raising it up over his head, he brings it down hard towards the chest of the fool leading the Jilker's group.

Moving straight to a square adjacent to JC, then using Elder Mountain Hammer on him.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] plus [roll2], ignores hardness and DR.

Entering Stance of Clarity, getting +2 AC vs. JC, -2 against everyone else.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Initiative: [roll0]

Dispel if you think it's worth it Nalrak

After the dragon drops Thordrek's face falls in astonishment at the dragon and at the idiot

Did they remove your brain to fit you in there.... Idiot.

Oh well, fire at will and all that, you know the drill

Thordrek moves forward (ten feet forward) and, mindful of her cover, sends a seeking ray at the jilker arcani

(4d6 electricity, ignore cover and concealment, if it hits I get a bonus to hit her with rays for a round)

to hit: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The doctor is stunned for a moment at the recent events, but when he finally reacts it is in an uncharacteristically nonchalant way: he laughs and shakes his head. When it rains, it pours, he tells himself. However, the cleric is nonplussed when he sees his comrades starting to focus on the battle at hand. "This is our chance," he calls out, "make a hole and run for it!"

[roll0]

[mshady]

Official Initiative Round 1

Thordrek: 22
Duervar: 20
Jilker Arcanii: 17
Jilker Commander: 15.5
Carmard: 15
Arman: 12
Buna: 8
Jilker Heavy Infantry: 8
Hjalmar: 5
Grathalmor: 2
Nalrak: 1
Kelith: 0

[mshady]

Roung 1 - Will format polish later!

Thordrek: The Levtokuld moves 10 feet forward and, mindful of her cover, sends a seeking ray at the Jilker’s Arcanii. A ray of electricity springs from Thordrek’s much more plain self-forged axe. It snakes around the stone crenellations and strikes the Jilker Arcanii with tremendous force, dealing significant enough damage to make the dwarf explode!

Thordrek deals 12 HP to the target.

It takes Thordrek a moment to realize that his spell had not made the dwarf explode at all. He had just targeted a very skillfully worked illusion. He was not sure at what point the illusion had taken over for the Arcanii, maybe they had even talked to it all along? Frustrated at wasting a spell, it occurs to him these Jilkers fought smart and this Arcanii could have serious talent.

Duervar: Enraged by the discourse with this Commander, Duervar lunges forward and attacks him with more furry then accuracy. He swings the pick right for the dwarf’s heart, only to have him thrust his axe forward and catch the shaft of Duervar’s weapon with the top of the waraxe. The armored dwarf moved with surprisingly dangerous speed, stopping Duervar mid swing and pushing him backwards a foot. He stumbles and recovers from his attack.

Entering the Stance of Clarity, Duervar focuses on the dwarf in front of him.

Jilker Arcanii: Wherever the Arcanii was, she was staying busy. A cloud of blue smoke appears behind Grathalmor and Carmard suddenly. The cloud crackles with a strange electric spark and a humanoid figure bursts on to the scene. It howls in pain, seemingly jolted by the summoning process perhaps gone awry somewhat, but it immediately finds its mark.

The Bearded Devil, a now familiar foe, chops at the surprised Carmard only to find that Grathalmor has stepped in front of the blow. The blow opens up the side of Grathalmor's chest but the infernal wound is shrugged off by Grathalmor's constitution.

The Bearded Devil (BD1) deals a 6 HP blow to Grathalmor, after earthsilk.

Jilker Commander: With his armor rapidly ticking away with a steady thrumming sound, the armored dwarf swings at Duervar with a very powerful swing. The axe collides with Duervar’s pick, sending sparks flying through the air as bits of metal are scraped off both weapons. The clang is ear splitting, and while the Jilker is seemingly unaffected by the attack, the blow sends Duervar’s pick flying backwards. The dwarf steps forward and cuts at Duervar with a powerful horizontal slash, cutting Duervar across the belly. Had he not been armored, the flow might have disemboweled him, but instead it was a deep and painful cut.

The Jilker Commander inflicts a 10 HP wound on Duervar.

Carmard: Wounded and nearly defenseless on crutches, Carmard clutches the bleeding wound and grimaces from the pain. His hand comes back red with blood, and he felt the tingle of infernal magic. That was not good, but he hand better things. He backs away from the creature, but it swings once again at him, opening another wound, but this time he is able to shrug off the effects of the blade.

Away from it now, he decides his best defense is a good stoneskin. He quickly reaches for a rune and concentrates on the spell for a moment before his skin is covered in a tough layer of stone.

Carmard backs up to U15 and dares to cast Stoneskin.

Arman: The Elf looks around for his opposite number among his surprising enemy. He had never killed a dwarf before, and the thought disoriented him. These were not Duergar either, these dwarfs were supposed to be at worst, friendly rivals and were as steady a race as there was. Of course, his time with the Patriarchate was changing that perception day by day, but still…

The sudden appearance of the summoned Bearded Devil made Arman grimace. He had no wish to see more of them, yet they seemed to be what these dwarfs specialized in summoning. Something about a shared bond of alignment, or merely beards? Something to ponder.

Deciding it would be best to go with an old standby, he reaches for a bit of silk and rolls it between his fingers. The wad of blue tinted webbing darts outwards and blossoms into a great net, and the whole group of infantry is covered in the goo. Smartly, Arman anchored it to the stone crenallations and the wall behind them. The object was to get past them, and if he could disrupt them, all the better. Of course, it depended on how strong they were…

Deciding to get out of the way, Arman back peddles to O17…

Buna: Seeing that Arman may have the enemy well in hand for the moment, she hefts Carmard’s hammer and thinks about what to do. The webbing was great, but it just provided cover too, and the devil could resist magic. So, she moves away from the devil with Kelith is tow (to O16) and (O15 for Kelith) and sends her hammer at the devil.

The hammer flies, head first, towards the devil but her first time with Carmard’s hammer does not go so well as the hammer flies right past the devil. With a clean, if close, miss she pulls her hand back towards her and mentally calls for the hammer to return to her. It stops mid-flight and comes tumbling back to her a moment later and she catches it in her mailed fist. Even through the armor, the returning hammer stings her palm and she curses more from the surprise than anything else…

Jilker Clockwork Infantry: Caught in the web armor, dwarven curses reverberate through the chambers as the powerful soldiers use the strength of their armor to throw off the sticky webs. The sound of grinding gears can be heard as the heavy strands are moved aside. Only two of the soldiers clear the web, but two others make progress in freeing themselves…

J1 – Rolls 25 and clears the web!
J2 – Rolls 25 and moves left!
J3, J4, J5, J6, J8 – Fail Strength Check
J7 – Rolls a 23 and moves forward
J9 – Rolls a 22 and moves right and clears the web

Hjalmar: The old dwarf feels his new hammer tremor in excitement as the dragon descends. He can practically feel the hammer trying to drag him towards the dragon. "We've got other business to attend to first, ya daft hammer!" Hjalmar plants his feet and hurls Morzhul at the leader.

"I doubt all this infighting is what the Soul Forger had in mind when he carved us from the stone."

The throwing hammer drives towards the leader of the heretical dwarves and strikes his armor with a heavy clang. Sparks fly, along with chips of enamel, and Hjalmar can see the armor was dented but it was hardly any damage at all.

“I doubt it either, but we do what we can. What is going on again?” the hammer asks as it returns to Hjalmar’s hand. “That’s some hard steel they got! Throw me again!” the hammer says, rejoicing in the challenge.

Hjalmar advances 5 feet.

Grathalmor: "Fools!" Grathalmor yells "It's da Aurilite troops here ta stop us! We were trying ta catch them in da blast, now you've doomed us all." Grathalmor pulls one of his pistols [move action], levels it at the leader and prepares to thinks about pulling a pistol and shooting one of those armored dwarfs but the sudden appearance of the devil changes his mind, and he curses.

With his spear axe in hand, he moves towards the devil and lays into it. The hizagkuur weapon cuts open the side of the devil, and crunches some bones while he is at it, thanks to the powerful swing. The devil is rocked by the blow, but still standing...

Grathalmor inflicts 15 HP on the devil, bypassing reduction but not all of its elemental protection....

"Go round the right." he says to Carmard and Buna, "I'll try ta clear ya a path!"

Nalrak: The doctor is stunned for a moment at the recent events, but when he finally reacts it is in an uncharacteristically nonchalant way: he laughs and shakes his head. When it rains, it pours, he tells himself. However, the cleric is nonplussed when he sees his comrades starting to focus on the battle at hand. "This is our chance," he calls out, "make a hole and run for it!"

That said, the devil was going to cause problems and as no one else had engaged it in the battle confusion, he had to. He turns and heads right for the devil, and it snarls as he approaches. The glaive flashes at Nalrak, but the dwarf’s armor turns away the blows. He plows ahead, raises his hammer over his head and sends it crashing down and strikes the devil right in the face! The beast staggers from the wound, its nose pulped and spitting teeth…

Nalrak scores a critical hit, dealing 30 HP after damage reduction, against the devil, thanks to the critical hit and knowledge devotion…

Kelith: Just trying to protect himself a little, the crippled Kelith casts Shield of Faith on himself...

Map Update

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/835/round1finale.jpg/

http://img835.imageshack.us/img835/466/round1finale.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/835/round1finale.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

HP: 63/67
Touch/Flatfooted/AC: 11/26/26
Saves: Fort +9, Ref -2, Will +14

Ongoing effects (durations):

Knowledge Devotion: +3 insight bonus to attacks and damage (remainder of encounter).


Nalrak's smile becomes a grimace as the devil's saliva and blood drip down his face. "Come on, then," he scowls, "back from whence you came!" As he shouts, he makes another massive swing against the creature. He breaks his focus for but a moment as he scans the battlefield for the opposing arcanii, looking for any signs of her next spell. He is careful not to move too much, and his own interlocking plate armor clicks into place as it seals up around his joints and prepares him for the worst the devil has to offer in retaliation.

No action: activate Knowledge Devotion (with Collector of Stories) against the devil
Standard Action: Attack the devil! 24 vs AC for 12 damage
Move Action: none (provides +2 AC from interlocking plate armor).
Immediate Action: identify the next spell the arcanii casts and possibly dispel it via Divine Defiance (will decide once spell is identified).

Rolls:
[roll0]
[roll1] +3 from Knowledge Devotion
[roll2] +3 from Knowledge Devotion
[roll3]

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

hp: 82/97; DR 2/-
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21; +2 vs. JC, -2 against others.
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

Duervar grunts in frustration as the dwarfs axe cut into his stomach. Catching his pick as it flew back, he settled in again and swung his weapon in towards the Jilker's chest in a blow that should crush his bones; if he has any. "Let's see how much of a machine you are."

Using Bonesplitting Strike as a standard action.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] plus 2 Con damage. Hope he's not so much of a construct he's immune to it.

EDIT: Really? A 3 then a 2? Hope this doesn't continue through the whole fight.

[mshady]

Map Update

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/835/round1finale.jpg/

http://img835.imageshack.us/img835/466/round1finale.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/835/round1finale.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

AC: 29
HP: 89
Ref: 6
Fort: 11
Will: 7

Thordrek looks back at the others and issues a few orders before charging into battle.

Arman, watch out for that wizard, she's got common sense. Also, she might be invisible. Nalrak, you're on devil duty. Everyone else, move forward

He approaches the jilker commander to lend Duervar a hand axe

to hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[King Tius]

Hjalmar Crownshield

Hjalmar hustles to W10 and hurls his hammer at the leader (he has PBS and Precise Shot so it should only be a +2 to the commander's AC). He laughs heartily at Morzhul's lust as he does so.

"What's going on? Hells if I know. The duergar are our allies but these dwarves aren't? Everyone's runnin' around callin' each other heretics while we try and blow up this mountain and kill the frost lovers. I miss the good old days where if it was coming at you from below and wasn't a cousin o' yours, you killed it as fast as you could."

Hammer Attack: [roll0]
Hammer Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] Fire

[Grodech]

Grathalmor moves up (to T13 where Hjalmar had been), this time pulling his pistol and firing at J9.
Attack:
Ranged touch attack: [roll0]
Bullet damage: [roll1]
Powder damage: [roll]1d10[/dice]
Stats:
Grathalmor Ironfist
HP 88/94
AC: 26, Touch 13, FF 26
Readied Maneuvers: Steel Wind, Stone Bones, Mountain Hammer, Mithral Tornado
Current Stance: Stone Foot Stance
Additional OOC info:
It's tough being this low in the round. Everyone's position may have changed by the time Grath's turn comes up. I'm reserving the right to change the above actions based on enemy actions... His intention is to stay near Carmard to protect him, as well as Buna and try and get them past the enemy. Also, please note that I'm adding the Sworn Protector bonuses (+2 attack/damage)for the rest of this encounter. I missed those on the previous round.

[Grodech]

oops:
Gotta pay better attention to my dice code before hitting submit...
Powder damage: [roll0]

Ignore this. I'm an idiot. Natural 19 - critical chance:
Attack roll to confirm critical: [roll1]
Additional Damage if it is a critical (x3, so an additional 4d6+6)
[roll2]
Additional powder damage if it applies - I wasn't clear on this point
[roll3]
Additionally, J9 will take 1d3 bleed damage per round - maybe I should have shot the leader...

[ArmanMadero]

Arman tried to determine where the mage would be... He cursed under his breath a little as he realized time was running short. Despite that these dwarves were of the good sort, or rather, not duergar, he still was going to find it hard to attack them.

He decided to pretend there were no dwarves in the suits, but only clockworks and gear and extremely good magic. Taking some steps away to clear himself for working his magic, he cast his spell, and hoped it would do some damage...

"Tintreach."

Lightning Bolt to J7 and hopefully the others behind...

[roll0]

[mshady]

Thordrek: Looking back at the others, Thordrek decides to rattle off a few orders before he charges into the fray of battle. It was quickly becoming apparent these dwarfs with extremely tough.

“Arman, watch out for that wizard, she's got common sense. Also, she might be invisible. Nalrak, you're on devil duty. Everyone else, move forward!”

He approaches the Jilker Commander to lend Duervar an axe, but he manages to trip on a field stone mid-swing. His axe bangs against the dwarf’s armor, but it certainly gets his attention. Thordrek is immediately struck hard by the axe in the dwarf’s hand. The adamantine screams from the blow, sending sparks into the darkness and tearing open the armor and cutting open a wound on Thordrek’s side.

The Jilker Commander deals a 14 HP wound.

Duervar: He grunts in frustration as the dwarfs axe cut into his stomach. Catching his pick as it flew back, he settled in again and swung his weapon in towards the Jilker's chest in a blow that should crush his bones; if he has any. "Let's see how much of a machine you are."

Duervar thumps it again with his war pick, but the blow is shrugged off by the armor and painfully so. He hears grind for a moment..

Jilker Arcanii: Still invisible, the Arcanii conjures up another spell while remaining hidden. A field of black, rubbery tentacles reach up from the floor and start waving about, grasping for anything.

Nalrak rolls a 16 v. 26, and suffers 7 HP bludgeoning damage. He is grappled!
Buna rolls a 8 v. 21 grapple check and suffers 8 HP bludgeoning. She is grappled!
Kelith auto fails and suffers 7 HP bludgeoning. He is grappled!
Arman rolls a 28 v. 34 and suffers 9 HP bludgeoning. He is grappled!

DM Note: Earthsilk shirts do not stop bludgeoning damage. Sorry!

Jilker Commander: Having shrugged off several blows now, the dwarf inside the armor actually laughs darkly at them.

“Are ye truly this impotent and unskilled?” the dwarf mocks. “I am Knight Commander of the Iron Shield, Urgon of the Coldstone Clan. Know me as your death” he says, and throttles his axe. The teeth on the edge of the axe spin rapidly, whirling as he moves it through the air. The axe rattles and flecks of oil fly from the blade. Looking closely, there is a chain attached to the Knight Commander’s gauntlet driving the axe. He swings it at Duervar first, and it connects with a hard thump.

The Knight Commander rolls a 35, connecting easily with Duervar and laying another VERY painful cut on him, shredding his armor with the augmented axe. He now has a criss-crossed wound across his torso.
Duervar takes a 8 HP wound.

The second blow, Duervar parries away with his pick by clubbing the axe away with a wild swing against the overpowering foe. In truth, he simply stops the swing, this dwarf was far too strong to knock backwards.

A third blow comes in, right at Duervar’s head, but he ducks the powerful but slow blow. At least he had some advantages here…

Or so he thought.

Duervar is suddenly struck by the heavy shield, a slab of solid metal probably weighing 100 - 200 lbs. The blow knocks the wind out of him and sends him tumbling backwards.

Duervar suffers a 5 HP wound from the shield attack and is knocked back 5 feet…

Carmard: Just outside of the effects of the spell, Carmard watches the slippery tentacles snake around his comrades and try to crush them like some sort of conjured snakes. While he had other plans for the moment, he decides to free his friends instead. Conjuring a ball of pulsating arcane energy, he sends it into the heart of the writhing black snakes. The dispel explodes with a roar and the white light washes away the effects of the spell.
If he was happy with the success, it would not be for long. Carmard had just made himself the target of another Arcanii…

Arman: Grappled by the rubbery tentacles, Arman tries to escape but he simply does not have the strength to get out of them. Carmard’s quick reaction, even crippled as he was, had saved him any worse damage. The snakes had coiled around his wounded leg though, and if it hurt before, it positively roared in pain now. How he wishes he had never been shot in the leg!

Arman tried to determine where the mage would be... He cursed under his breath a little as he realized time was running short. Despite that these dwarves were of the good sort, or rather, not duergar, he still was going to find it hard to attack them.

He decided to pretend there were no dwarves in the suits, but only clockworks and gear and extremely good magic. Taking some steps away to clear himself for working his magic, he cast his spell, and hoped it would do some damage...

"Tintreach."

Arman’s Lightning Bolt hits J7 and J4 before stabbing off into the darkness, and does 32 HP. Both dwarfs are still standing, but look to have been badly hit by the spell.

Buna: Shrugging off the spell, thanks to Carmard, she looks around for the other Arcanii. Deciding to take a risky throw, and unable to see the enemy Arcanii, she throws the hammer at the devil that Nalrak was engaged with. The hammer hits it hard, rocking it with the blow. She calls the hammer back to her, and sees it is stained with devil blood.

“Love the hammer, Carmard!” she calls out.

Jilker Clockwork Infantry: Some of the infantry is still clogged by the webbing, but continue to try to grind their way out of its grasp.

J2 – Previously free, it bulls ahead and frees itself of the web, by moving left!
J7 – Frees itself, and moves into combat with Thordrek, provoking an AoO.
J4 – Passes check and moves forward in the web.
J6 – Passes Strength Check and clears the web!
J3, J5 and J8 – Fail their strength check, still stuck in the web!

Thordrek swings at J7, but his axe bangs off the armor with minimal impact! This armor was tough!

J9 moves into combat with the massively armored Hjalmar. It swings its axe-saw weapon at Hjalmar, but the dwarf’s armor is simply too heavy and the weapon just cannot quite pierce the armor.

J1 moves forward, looking to join the fight!

Hjalmar: He hustles forward and hurls his hammer at the leader.He laughs heartily at Morzhul's lust as he does so.

"What's going on? Hells if I know. The duergar are our allies but these dwarves aren't? Everyone's runnin' around callin' each other heretics while we try and blow up this mountain and kill the frost lovers. I miss the good old days where if it was coming at you from below and wasn't a cousin o' yours, you killed it as fast as you could."

This time, the hammer connects squarely with the Knight Commander and crunches some of the armor. It is tough, thick, armor though and he is sure some of the power of the blow was lost…

"Feel like tin cans to me! Come on, throw me again!" Morzhul says telepathically, encouraging Hjalmar on.

Grathalmor: Leaving his cousin to devil duty, he moves up to get a clear shot at one of the dwarfs scrambling out of the webbing. He had saw a wizard web before, and these things must be incredibly strong to plow through it. Still, being slowed down was important as anything else right now. He draws a pistol, pulls back the hammer and aims it at one of his supposed kin. The gun roars and his vision is blurred for a moment by the cloud of white smoke, and he hears a loud clang as the dwarf drops its shield. He can see where the shot has ripped open the armor of the arm. Bits of metal fly out of it, small gears, pins and chain fragments along with a spray of blood. It must be a pretty gruesome place in there…
Seriously wounded, he figured Hjalmar should be able to finish him off.

Grathalmor’s shot does 29 HP to the dwarf, but he’s still up but has lost the use of his shield arm.

Nalrak: Nalrak's smile becomes a grimace as the devil's saliva and blood drip down his face. "Come on, then," he scowls, "back from whence you came!" As he shouts, he makes another massive swing against the creature. He breaks his focus for but a moment as he scans the battlefield for the opposing arcanii, looking for any signs of her next spell. He is careful not to move too much, and his own interlocking plate armor clicks into place as it seals up around his joints and prepares him for the worst the devil has to offer in retaliation.

It turned out he need not worry, for the devil grunts and falls to the ground. It lies there a moment, before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke again…

Immediate Action: identify the next spell the arcanii casts and possibly dispel it via Divine Defiance (will decide once spell is identified).
DM note: So long as the Arcanii does not cast direct damage spells or attacks, but conjures or summons things, there is nothing for Nalrak to see to identify. Or am I misreading this?

Map

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/259/round2finale.jpg/

http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/3023/round2finale.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/259/round2finale.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

AC: 29
HP: 75
Ref: 6
Fort: 11
Will: 7

Once again, Thordrek pratfalls at the worst possible moment and gets a painful wound for his trouble. He resolves to consult with an exorcist if he makes it out, there's a real possibility he is cursed. He pushes through the pain as he had done so many times in he last days and sends one of his heavyer blows the knights way.

And I'm Thordrek of the Levtokuld, and I think I'd rather steal your life force

He channels a vampiric touch abd further enhances the attack with the energy from a spell he had in reserve. (arcane strike with a level 2 spell)

To hit: [roll0]
Damage[roll1]+[roll2]+[roll3]+5

[Grodech]

Thier plan to make a hole and run for it seemingly abandoned, thanks in part to the web in the way, Grathalmor starts thinking that they could really use one of Buna's well placed fireballs about now. He advances [move to T9] drawing his second pistol and firing at the Jilker Commander. He hoped Carmard had enough sense to keep up with him.

Attack:
Ranged touch attack: [roll0]
Bullet damage: [roll1]
Powder damage: [roll2]

Stats:
Grathalmor Ironfist
HP 88/94
AC: 26, Touch 13, FF 26
Readied Maneuvers: Steel Wind, Stone Bones, Mountain Hammer, Mithral Tornado
Current Stance: Stone Foot Stance

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=141231)
Male Lawful Good Shield Dwarf Cleric 3/Inquis 3/SK 2, Level 8, Init -6, HP 56/67, DR 1/bludgeon, Speed 20
AC 24, Touch 11, Flat-footed 24, Fort +9, Ref -2, Will +14
Condition
Knowledge Devotion: +3 insight to attacks and damage vs. devils (remainder of encounter).
Knowledge Devotion: +1 insight to attacks and damage vs. dwarves (remainder of encounter).
Detect Magic (1/80): Detect presence or absence of magical auras.

Nalrak advances cautiously, on the lookout for any sign of the invisible magician. He quietly curses himself for not praying for the Silent Keeper's all-seeing eyes. The ability to see the invisible magician would have made this much easier, especially since instead of fighting like a dwarf this arcanii was resulting to the sort of trickery usually reserved for gnomes. Nalrak has to use the resources at his disposal, so he quiets his mind and focuses on one of the first spells he had ever learned: the ability to feel magic coursing through the air. He scans the area, hoping to find a magical aura. He was waiting for the quavering sensation that would tell him he was staring at an illusion so he could tear down the facade.

No action: activate Knowledge Devotion against the Jilker Commander
Standard Action: Cast Detect Magic (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/detectMagic.htm)
Move Action: move to S13
Immediate Action: identify the next spell the arcanii casts and possibly dispel it via Divine Defiance (will decide once spell is identified).

Rolls:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2] to identify the arcanii's next spell via verbal component.

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

hp: 69/97; DR 2/-
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21; +2 vs. JC, -2 against others.
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

Duervar catches his breath for a moment after the shield drives him back. He shakes his head in irritation. He's fumbling about, distracted by his anger. He breathes slowly and carefully, trying to regain his focus. Then he steps back in, swinging at the commander again.

Spending a swift action and making a single attack to regenerate maneuvers. 5 foot step to move back into R10.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[mshady]

Thordrek: 22
Duervar: 20
Jilker Arcanii: 17
Jilker Commander: 15.5
Carmard: 15
Arman: 12
Buna: 8
Jilker Heavy Infantry: 8
Hjalmar: 5
Grathalmor: 2
Nalrak: 1
Kelith: 0

Turn 3 - Part 1

Thordrek: Once again, Thordrek pratfalls at the worst possible moment and gets a painful wound for his trouble. He resolves to consult with an exorcist if he makes it out, there's a real possibility he is cursed. He pushes through the pain as he had done so many times in he last days and sends one of his heavier blows the Knight’ss way.

“And I'm Thordrek of the Levtokuld, and I think I'd rather steal your life force!” he declares, and swings at the armored titan in front of him. His Mirabar forged axe bangs against the armor and sparks fly, but even a strike this solidly aimed only sparks against the armor in the darkness.

While the axe does not cause any appreciable damage to the enemy, the contact was good enough to trigger the spell. The vampire like touch of the axe acts as a bridge between Thordrek and the Knight, and he siphons some of the dwarf’s life force away.

He feels a cold chill as his own wounds heal, and indeed he even feels a little stronger then before!

Thordrek’s roll of 25 was not enough to cut through the armor, but he still got off the vampiric touch. What was the 2d4 for, btw?

Duervar: Duervar catches his breath for a moment after the shield drives him back. He shakes his head in irritation. He's fumbling about, distracted by his anger. He breathes slowly and carefully, trying to regain his focus. Then he steps back in, swinging at the commander again.

The pick strikes solidly against the armor, and this time the dwarf did not even bother to block the blow with his shield. Even allowing Duervar a free shot at his armor plate, Duervar cannot put his pick through the thick metal.
Was this thing made of actual metal plate, not just a metal skin?

Duervar’s roll of 25 was not enough to beat Urgon’s armor either, try harder!

Jilker Arcanii: Out of sight but out of mind, the Arcanii sees how the group is spread out and conjures a spell. Nalrak catches a snippet of distant draconic before a wall of violet flames erupt out of the ground. The violet purple and orange flames leap 20 feet into the sky and send waves of heat rolling southwards. Several in the party are too close to the flames and are singed by the intense heat…

Grathalmor and Arman takes 5 HP heat damage.
Carmard takes 3 HP.
Buna takes 2 HP.

Jilker Commander: Seeing the sudden eruption of the wall of flame, cutting off one part of the group from the other, the Knight Commander. He swings his shield in front of him like a battering ram and surges right at Duervar. While Duervar cannot reach quick enough, Thordrek does and he tries to cut open the armor once again but his axe just bangs off the thick armor once again.

The Knight’s unexpected charge sends Duervar reeling, and he pushes him back into the Wall of Flames, sending him tumbling through the flames. Duervar screams in pain as he is thrown into the flames!

Turning to Thordrek, the Knight Commander regards him for a moment.
“Daring to use necromancy on me? For a moment, I had thought ye had honor” he remarks.

Duervar has been shoved through a Wall of Flame, and has taken 14 HP in fire damage.


IMPORTANT DM NOTE! With the Wall of Flame up, I figured those of you with lower initiative may want to alter your turns now that you have been cut off.

MAP

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/7/round35.jpg/

http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/3489/round35.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/7/round35.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[Grodech]

"Balls!" Grathalmor says. He turns and looks at Carmard. "Anythin' ya can do about 'dis?"


Turn 3 - Part 1

IMPORTANT DM NOTE! With the Wall of Flame up, I figured those of you with lower initiative may want to alter your turns now that you have been cut off.


Both the arcanii go before Grathalmor, so I suppose I should wait until we see if either of them can do anything about the wall before posting his next action. If they can, he'll likely keep the same action. If they can't, he'll need to back off the wall.

[mshady]

Carmard: Seeing and feeling the Wall of Fire, Carmard cringes away from it. There was no protection even Grathalmor could provide from this. The flame wall is over 20 feet high, and he has to crane his neck upwards to see the top of them. He takes a moment to assess the wall and how inconveniently long it was as well.

“This one is a clever one” he remarks, approving in the choice of tactics by the Arcanii. He sends another crackling ball of energy towards the Wall of Fire and it explodes with a roar, trying to dispel the Wall. The Wall wavers for a moment, but still stands as the dispel fails.

Arman: Singed by the heat, Arman decides to back pedal away from the intense heat that singed him. Limited by his lame leg, he can move back just far enough to escape the heat. Unlike these dwarves with their armor and tough hides, this was quite painful to him. He had a scroll that might be useful here, and could possibly burn spells out of his spell book if needed. That Arcanii was serious trouble, and that Wall was the worst as it separated them from Thordrek and Hjalmar, their two most capable fighters.

Buna: “I’ve just about had enough of this!” Buna rages, as she is stung by the heat from the Wall of Flame. She spits and sputters as she falls back. The Arcanii must be strong to shrug off an attempt by Carmard to remove the spell, so she holds off on attempting it herself.

“I have an idea! I’ll get the Arcanii!” she says, and her fingers weave a pattern. A moment later, she begins to bob in the air.

DM NOTE! If your Initiative is after this, please repost if needed.

[Grodech]

Singed by the heat of the wall, Grathalmor moves back away from it [move to T17] after Carmard's dispel doesn't work. He exchanges his spent pistol with the loaded one as he does so. He takes a brief glance back towards the rest of the battle and the stoneburner to see if anything was headed in their direction.

OOC: Too bad I had to waste a nice roll - lol. If 20 feet is not enough to get out of the heat damage area, he'll take a second move action to move further back. Not much else he can do at this point.

Stats:
Grathalmor Ironfist
HP 83/94
AC: 26, Touch 13, FF 26
Readied Maneuvers: Steel Wind, Stone Bones, Mountain Hammer, Mithral Tornado
Current Stance: Stone Foot Stance

Spot, if necessary: [roll0]

[King Tius]

Hjalmar Crownshield

With a Jilker now up in his business, Hjalmar forgoes throwing his hammer in favor of smashing it up against the enemy in front of him. The Wall of Fire is of little concern to him at the moment, though he is now one of the few targets available to the Jilkers.

Morzhul Attack 1: [roll0]
Morzhul Damage 1: [roll1] + [roll2] fire
Morzhul Attack 2: [roll3]
Morzhul Damage 1: [roll4] + [roll5] fire

[King Tius]

Critical hit! Rolling to confirm (plus additional damage)

Morzhul Attack 1 Crit Confirm: [roll0]
Morzhul Damage 1: [roll1]

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

While others are afraid of the flames of the wall or curse as its heat singes the hair of their beards, Nalrak stands strong--the intense warmth was something he had grown numb to since the accidental blaze he had sparked as a youth. The dwarf strides forward and raises a hand to the wall. He stretches out his palm until it is nearly in contact with the flames. With a loud, confident voice he calls out, "Restinguendum."

Move Action: move to S13
Standard Action: cast Dispel Magic, targeted on the Wall of Fire. SUCCESS if the arcanii's caster level is 20 or less.

Rolls:
[roll0]

[mshady]

Jilker Clockwork Infantry: Despite flanking Thordrek, the 7th Clockwork soldier cannot pierce Thordrek supremely hardened armor. The 1st, 2nd and 6th soldiers move forward, free of the webbing, and swing at Thordrek as well. Between his skill and cunning armor, Thordrek manages to deflect two of the blows only to walk into a third axe. It thumps him solidly in the leg armor, and while it was adamantine, it was not thick enough to stop an axe, only slow it down.

Thordrek suffers 9 HP damage from the blow, after damage reduction.

The 9th dwarf, despite the damage from Grathalmor’s gun shot and the loss of its shield, attacks Hjalmar anyways. While this armor made the dwarf extremely strong for their race, even the brute force was not enough to pierce Hjalmar’s thick armor with the first blow. The second meets his shield and does little more then make his arm numb.

The 4th dwarf frees itself from the webbing and moves into combat with Hjalmar, and is greeted with a hammer blow that the dwarf simply shrugs off.

The 3rd dwarf breaks out of the webbing and bulls its way forward, but the 5th and 8th are still bound up in the webbing…

Hjalmar: With a Jilker now up in his business, Hjalmar forgoes throwing his hammer in favor of smashing it up against the enemy in front of him. The Wall of Fire is of little concern to him at the moment, though he is now one of the few targets available to the Jilkers.

His first blow connects right with the helmet of the Jilker with a resounding bang. Morzhul flashes with a brief burst of fire. The blow is powerful enough to crush the helmet, splitting the face plate. The dwarf staggers backwards, blood streaming from the helmet. The dwarf never screams in pain, but simply collapses to the ground with a thud.

Hjalmar deals 43 HP to the soldier, easily killing the dwarf (J9).

Grathalmor: Singed by the heat of the wall, Grathalmor moves back away from it [move to U17 – T17 is occupied] after Carmard's dispel doesn't work. He exchanges his spent pistol with the loaded one as he does so. He takes a brief glance back towards the rest of the battle and the stoneburner to see if anything was headed in their direction.

Nalrak: While others are afraid of the flames of the wall or curse as its heat singes the hair of their beards, Nalrak stands strong--the intense warmth was something he had grown numb to since the accidental blaze he had sparked as a youth. The dwarf strides forward and raises a hand to the wall. He stretches out his palm until it is nearly in contact with the flames. With a loud, confident voice he calls out, "Restinguendum."

Move Action: move to S13

Standard Action: cast Dispel Magic, targeted on the Wall of Fire. The dispel strikes and causes the Wall of Flame to waver, and explode into motes of blue energy that quickly dissolve…

Map

http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/200/finalerd3.jpg/

http://img200.imageshack.us/img200/6333/finalerd3.jpg (http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/200/finalerd3.jpg/)

Uploaded with ImageShack.us (http://imageshack.us)

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

hp: 55/97; DR 2/-
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21; +2 vs. JC, -2 against others.
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

Duervar screams in frustration as the wall of fire forms in front of him. Now he was cut off entirely, and Thordek was about to be overrun. Then Nalrak steps forward and dismisses it entirely with a single word. Nodding once to the priest, Duervar steps forward again, moving in opposite to Thordek and swinging his pick towards the dwarf's back.

5 foot step to S12 and attacking JC with Elder Mountain Hammer.
Attack (+2 for flanking): [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] plus [roll2] ignoring any hardness or DR

I am not rolling well this fight.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

AC: 29
HP: 75
Ref: 6
Fort: 11
Will: 7

Thordrek snorts

Oh, were the zombies of slaughtered civilians not sent by your side then? At least I'll leave your corpse well enough alone after I kill you.

This little diatribe gives time for Duervar to maneuver into position (delaying action until he moves)

Continuing to burn through his resources at a frightening rate, Thordrek attacks the commander with an shocking grasp enhanced axe blow aided by his ring of piercing spell and the energy for one of his mid-level spells

(so, channeling shocking grasp, arcane striking with a level 2 spell, and activating the ring of piercing spells)

To hit [roll0] + 2 (flank) + 3 (shocking grasp) + 2 (arcane strike) +14 (normal)
Damage: [roll1] + 5 (normal) + [roll2] (piercing spell ring) + [roll3] (arcane strike) + [roll4] (shocking grasp)


if this guy has more the 38 ac i call bull****, shame about the damage though

[mshady]

Round 4

Thordrek: 22
Duervar: 20
Jilker Arcanii: 17
Jilker Commander: 15.5
Carmard: 15
Arman: 12
Buna: 8
Jilker Heavy Infantry: 8
Hjalmar: 5
Grathalmor: 2
Nalrak: 1
Kelith: 0

Thordrek: He snorts in reply to the Knight Commander’s words.

“Oh, were the zombies of slaughtered civilians not sent by your side then? At least I'll leave your corpse well enough alone after I kill you!”

This little diatribe gives time for Duervar to maneuver into position (delaying action until he moves)

Duervar: Duervar screams in frustration as the wall of fire forms in front of him. Now he was cut off entirely, and Thordrek was about to be overrun. Then Nalrak steps forward and dismisses it entirely with a single word. Nodding once to the priest, Duervar steps forward again, moving in opposite to Thordrek and swinging his pick towards the dwarf's back.

His fury causes his blow to be misguided, and once again the massively armored Jilker blocks the attack with his shield.

Thordrek (Delayed): [/I]Continuing to burn through his resources at a frightening rate, Thordrek attacks the commander with an shocking grasp enhanced axe blow aided by his ring of piercing spell and the energy for one of his mid-level spells. His axe crackles once again as he swings it. This time, the blow connects and the axe does indeed open up the armor. Which the axe itself barely does damage to the armor, the magic imbued into it is enough to make the axe glow.

He is rewarded with a grunt from inside the armor, and the Knight Commander stumbles backwards.

[B]Jilker Arcanii: Seeing her wall taken down so quickly by Nalrak, she decides to attack him more directly from wherever she was hiding. Nalrak is suddenly confronted with an oncoming image of a great steel containment vessel surrounded by a fire he could not put out. As he looks, he thinks he sees someone through the fires and runs into the fire, just as the vessel ruptures, pouring hundreds of gallons of fermenting alcohol into the fire…
Nalrak has been attacked by a Phantasmal Killer spell, but uses his Divine Defiance ability to attempt to counter spell the attack. He feels the wave of cold energy wash over him, demolishing the illusion of his worst fear…

DM Note: Good thing he had a second dispel. I rolled it out, and he got a 3 for his Will save and a 2 on his Fort save. Yes, we are using death magic now…

Jilker Commander: The stumbling commander shrugs off the blow. His armor is scorched and the enamel on his armor is melted away. Red bits of smoldering metal drip on the floor, but he continues his attack.

“They followed a wicked God. Such must be exterminated, stem and root. I name you hypocrite, kin! You came to their home to destroy it. Sending the welps and sows out to die in the fire was pointless. Does it help your tainted conscience? You plan to use that weapon on my home and judge us for using the enemy against ye? Pah!” he says, and swings at Thordrek.

Another heavy swing of his axe connects with Thordrek, and sparks fly from the spinning saw blade edged axe. He feels the blow open his armor again, cutting into his arm…

Thordrek suffers 9 HP after damage reduction, and now is bleeding, 1 HP a turn…

Carmard: The Arcanii moves forward 10 feet, and looks for something to do. Biting his lip, he reaches skyward and his fist turns to ice for a moment and the chunks of ice disappear. A moment later, the air above the entire Jilker contingent opens up and heavy chunks of ice fall downward.

J5 takes 10 damage
J3 takes 14 damage
J8 takes 15 damage
J4 takes 11 damage
J7 takes 13 damage
J2 takes 18 damage
J6 takes 12 damage
J1 takes 11 damage
JC takes 17 damage
JA takes 7 damage
Thordrek takes 8 HP
Duervar takes 9 HP

Arman: Arman moves forward, as best he can, which was still about as fast as a dwarf moved normally. He sends another lightning bolt towards the dwarves in their toad looking armor. He catches four of them in his second blast, and is more than a little surprised the enemy Arcanii was not trying to disrupt or counter spell him.

J6 takes 31 damage
J7 takes 36 damage – DEAD!!
J8 takes 35 damage
J5 takes 46 damage- VERY DEAD!!!

Buna: The other Arcanii watches the sudden carnage, and moves forward before coming to a stop. Her fingers work, and a veil of blue haze shimmers over her face for a moment. She looks around for a moment, trying to see something, before locking on to something.

Jilker Clockwork Infantry: With their ranks suddenly savaged and all of them battered by ice, only 5 of the soldiers still remain. Unfortunately, 3 of them are right by Thordrek. The swings rain down on Thordrek, one after the other hitting his armor but being turned away by its thickness and design. It was if they were just trying to batter him to death. As he stumbles from the blows, he sees another axe aimed right for his head. It opens up the side his helmet and sends him staggering. He can feel that part of his head was severed, and intense, burning pain from the spinning axe blade.

Thordrek suffers a 10 HP hit, after reduction, and takes another bleeding wound 1 HP round.

Finally, the other two dwarfs break out of the webbing. One of the dwarfs heads for the stairs and he looks to be in very sorry shape indeed. The other bulls forward, heading towards Hjalmar…

The one in melee with Hjalmar swings at him, and connects with a heavy blow. He grunts at the wound to his leg and the bleeding it caused, but otherwise battles on…

Hjalmar has taken a 9 HP blow.

Hjalmar: Rattled by another blow, the big dwarf shrugs off the blow and keeps fighting. His first blow connects, and shatters the armor to the grand elation of Morzkul. Bits of metal, armor and springs go flying.

To make sure, Hjalmar strikes the dwarf again, putting a dent so large in the helmet that it would have to be fatal to the wearer.

The armored dwarf stands for a moment, metal clunking and gears grinding, before something seizes and it drops to the ground.

With one more foe down, Hjalmar steps over the body and towards the next one.

Wow. Really took him down! Crying shame, what armor! So lets get that dragon! We can take it!

Morzhul pridefully advises Hjalmar. Small wonder most of his prior wielders were dead...

The next Jilker up swings at Hjalmar, but he blocks the slow and crushingly powerful blow with his shield...

Grathalmor: Free of any action now, Grathalmor moves forward and draws his second pistol. He swings it towards the bulky Knight Commander, draws back the hammer and fires. The pistol barks and sends a bullet heading towards him. The shot strikes the armor, drilling a hole in the armor and he grunts from the blow.

That shot hurt. It could be mortal. Just not quick enough.

Nalrak: Seeing the Duervar was wounded, and trusting that Thordrek could stay on his feet awhile longer in his magnificent armor, Nalrak casts a healing spell on Duervar.

He heals Duervar for 24 HP… 75/97 HP.

Updated Map

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[King Tius]

Hjalmar Crownshield

The grumpy old dwarf continues to deal with the jilkers one at a time. Since they were kind enough to line up one at a time for him, he is kind enough to knock them down one by one.

Morzhul Attack 1: [roll0]
Morzhul Damage 1: [roll1] + [roll2] fire
Morzhul Attack 2: [roll3]
Morzhul Damage 1: [roll4] + [roll5] fire

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

AC: 29
HP: 56
Ref: 6
Fort: 11
Will: 7

Thordrek staggers to the right (five foot step to R10) and takes a look around the battlefield and smirks

I only plan on getting my people back home alive and free, it's not too late for you to do the same with yours, well, with those who are left.

Seeing the success of his last attack, he replicates it, going in low.

(so, yeah, shocking grasp, arcane strike with level 2 spell, ring of piercing spells)

To hit: [roll0] + 2 (flank) + 3 (shocking grasp) + 2 (arcane strike) +14 (normal)

Damage: [roll1] + 5 (normal) + [roll2] (ring of piercing spells) + [roll3] (arcane strike) + [roll4] (shocking grasp)

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

hp: 46/97; DR 2/-
AC: 23, touch 13, flat footed 21; +2 vs. JC, -2 against others.
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3; can replace a Will save with an automatic 24 Concentration check as an Immediate action.


Readied maneuvers:
Moment of Perfect Mind
Elder Mountain Hammer
Bonesplitting Strike
Stone Dragon's Fury

Duervar snorts at the argument between Thordek and the Jilker. "Neither side gets to claim any sort of honour here. And if your values and honour get thrown out the window the moment they become inconvenient, you don't get to claim any sort of high ground. At least I don't try to pretend that slavery or large scale murder are honourable."

He swings his pick around, trying to somehow rebuild his momentum.

Using Bonesplitting Fury again.
Attack: [roll0] plus 15 (normal) +2 (flank) +2 (Stone Dragon maneuver) a total of 34. I may have finally hit.
Damage: [roll1] and 2 Con damage (no save).

[Grodech]

Grathalmor advances to U13 and takes his second pistol shot at the Jilker Commander. Maybe if they could injure him enough, they could get the others to back down. They also needed to get that web out of the way.

Attack:
Ranged touch attack (assuming -4 for firing into combat): [roll0]
Bullet damage: [roll1]
Powder damage: [roll2]

Stats:
Grathalmor Ironfist
HP 83/94
AC: 26, Touch 13, FF 26
Readied Maneuvers: Steel Wind, Stone Bones, Mountain Hammer, Mithral Tornado
Current Stance: Stone Foot Stance

[mshady]

A Dramatic Exit

With several of the Clockwork infantry down, the Patriarchate group tries to push its surprising advantage in numbers. After several attacks could not penetrate the massively thick armor of the Knight Commander, Thordrek and Duervar follow Grathalmor’s pistol attack with their own best. Thordrek’s blow rocks the dwarf, with a burst of magic and electricity that sends him stumbling backwards and the armor grinding. Stepping up, a burned Duervar swings his impaling pick high over his head and brings it down right into the dwarf’s chest. The pick spears him through the sternum and sticks into the armor. The Knight Commander back peddles for a moment, and rips the weapon out of his own armor and shoves Duervar backwards. The weapon is covered with bright red blood, and while he shows signs of continuing, Knight Commander Urgon of the Coldstone Clan collapses on to the ground. He lands with a heavy metallic thud on his chest, and a pool of blood starts to form around him…

With their Commander down, the three Clockwork infantrymen continue to press the attack on Thordrek. Of the many blows, only one of them hits Thordrek again, but it is a serious wound to the hip this time. That victory is short lived, as Arman lashes one of them with a magic missile and sends that dwarf down as well. Duervar and Nalrak take one of the remaining, with Thordrek and Grathalmor bring down the other in a short, nasty fight that leaves all 4 of them with additional wounds, particularly Grathalmor, who takes a crushing blow to the shoulder that would later require medical attention to repair fully.

Hjalmar and Morzhul finish off the last dwarf, and Morzhul flares to life to incinerate the webbing that was blocking their way. The webbing burns quickly. The last Jilker disappears up the tunnel, metal feet pounding furiously on ancient stone.

There is little time to do more then look behind them now. The savage battle between the armored dragon and it’s rider, along with the hobgoblins who had roped down into the cavern. Occasionally a dwarf and his armor are sent flying through the air, and blasts of cold breath fell others, but by and large the dwarf formation remains closely ordered despite serious losses. The relentless dwarfs pound on the dragon’s armor, opening wounds only to be knocked back again. The rider and Gemma exchange powerful blasts of magic, but the rider cannot keep up. After a few volleys, he is sent flying off the dragon in a screaming, flaming mass that disappears into the press of soldiers. The hobgoblin infantry, lightly armored but well armed and trained, have the dwarfs surrounded and press on all sides as the dwarfs press relentlessly on the dragon.

While they only watch for a bit, the dwarves carve up the hobgoblins and seem immune to their blows. More magic is exchanged, felling opponents on both sides, but it is a blood bath all around. The lumbering golem turns away from the Stoneburner and engages the dragon finally, and the dwarves back away from the wounded beast. As they do so, they scatter the hobgoblins and begin a quick march back to the stairwell as the golem takes on the armored dragon in an ineffectual standoff…

As they move up the stairs and look at the battlefield below, they see several of the Jilkers they had felled in the battle shimmer with a golden aura for a moment. Five of them stagger back to their feet, including the Knight Commander. Somehow, their armor had done something to restore them.

That is all they have the time to see as the group takes a moment to breathe. The Stoneburner continues to blaze brightly and the pond of lava around it expands exponentially. They are all buffeted by waves of searing magic, and the Weave that has been drawn into the Stoneburner hisses angrily at how it is being exploited.

As the group heads up the stairwell, they are greeted by another canister of poison gas, that causes all but Thordrek to choke badly from the stinging gas. It is bad enough that Arman and Kelith both vomit in the tunnel, retching violently. When they clear the cloud of gas, they are met with another canister from the remaining Jilker. Six times they push through a cloud of gas before they see the light of the moon ahead of them.

Behind them, they can hear the metal foot falls of the remaining Jilkers who are coming up behind them. The tunnel is rocked several times by tremors, and weak stonework falls in places but no one is seriously hurt.
They don’t see what comes next until it is too late. Several large metal darts go flying down the stairwell from the cusp of the exit. Grathalmor, Nalrak and Arman are hit by the large metal darts with the tips driving through their armor. Arman is not so lucky, with one catching him in the abdomen and sinking in deeply. The hard luck Elf mage slumps to the ground and the wounded Nalrak quickly tries to administer some healing magic.

“Scorpions!” Thordrek yells out, warning them of the repeating ballista. They hear ropes and pulleys creak and new darts slammed into place. Thordrek directs Hjalmar and Grathalmor to join him in forming a shield wall and they charge forward at the scorpion position. Two of the weapons are facing down the tunnel, with half a dozen dwarfs operating them, along with the survivor of the last engagement. Another gas canister is sent at them, but it has no further effect beyond making them miserable. They weather the next volley of shots as well, their magically hardened shields protecting them. As they emerge from the cloud, Hjalmar points Morzhul at the emplacement and sends a fireball hurtling at it from his hammer. It explodes, and sends several unarmored dwarfs diving behind a crude stone wall they had created. The trio of dwarfs jump the wall and make quick work of the crew, along with the remaining armored dwarf that had caused them such a headache. Within a minute, they have dispatched the crew of dwarfs and wait for their companions to finish the miserable climb.

Standing out in the open now, and as far away from the Stoneburner as they can, they take a moment to look at their surroundings. An old fortress sits here, guarding the entrance below, but there are no torches in it at the moment. No one else is around, and no dragons appear either. The temperate in the area is rising though from the Stoneburner and they can see streaks of hissing blue ribbons on the sky heading into the mountain. An angry orange glow from the sky light taints the sky as well, like a simmering volcano. Relentless metal footsteps continue to head up the stairwell…
It was time to get out of here, they all realize. They place was becoming increasingly dangerous and there were probably only minutes remaining before the Stoneburner would blow…

DM Note: Feel free to post some reactions here, before I move on. The threads will be combined shortly.

[Grodech]

Grathalmor breaths a deep breath and lets it back out with an audible sigh. The pain in his shoulder was increasing as the adrenaline subsides now that the fighting was over. "Dat ting's about ta blow." he says, stating the obvious. "Let's get 'da frak out o' here.". He takes a minute to reload one of his pistols, just in case the teleport puts them in an unfriendly situation. He tried not to think about what had just happened - dwarf pitted against dwarf and the revelations that came with what was said below..

OOC: No idea how low Grath is on HP after that, but he does have a couple of potions available if he or anyone else is in dire need.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Battered, bruised and otherwise wounded but victorious, Thordrek looks at the group he still has nominal command over. They all looked like they'd been dragged through a few layers of hell, but their eyes, like his, showed the fierce exaltation of victory and the relief mixed with guilt that all soldiers feel after they survive a mission and not all of their comrades did.

It looks like we're clear, good work everyone. Carmard, Buna, if you would prepare the scrolls and begin? We shouldn't go straight to Huddlestone, take us a mile or so out of the town. We don't know how the battle went, and we may want to get our stories straight, I wouldn't put it past Buehler and Glorian to have us.... silenced for what we saw if they thought it would be for the best, so I'd rather we be seen entering the town by as many as possible, if it is indeed still ours

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

It was dizzying work for Nalrak, trying to keep an eye on all of his comrades and take account of their multiple wounds. As soon as he could get a handle on the situation, additional maladies forced themselves upon the group. When we rest, he tells himself, press on now. Healing when we rest. They force themselves through a fierce storm of attacks, hoping to distance themselves from the Stoneburner before it sounds one last shot of its own, and hopefully end this damnable battle.

After what seems like far too long, the group pauses to rest. Nalrak wipes his brow, attempting to drive off the pounding headache assaulting his senses. "Okay, who needs..." he begins, but is dazed for a moment as everything around him starts to go white. "Who needs...healungh--" Nalrak almost gets through his sentence, but as he loses his words he finally diagnoses the ringing sound in his ears and the wretching sensation in his throat: dehydration. Before he can curse himself for missing his own condition, Nalrak faints. He comes to as he falls to the ground, picking himself up quickly. He's more embarrassed than he is sick, and a few quick pulls from his waterskin later he's as right as rain. "Right. Perhaps we teleport first, then heal afterwards?"

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar spends a brief moment standing over the prone form of the Jilker commander. The imprint from the holy symbol still impaled on his pick may not be very visible on the armour, but he still felt good. It was something of a satisfying moment.

Of course, it couldn't last, not with more Jilkers around to continue the fight. Joining with Nalrak, Duervar helps take one of them down, then gathers together with the group to watch the fight below and be ready to retreat. When the commander was raised from the dead a few moments later, Duervar snarls in frustration and almost returns to kill him again, but recognizes that it's time to leave, as the rest of the force seems to be marching on them.

The flight up the stairs is difficult and slow. Poisonous gas and embedded siege weapons greet them as they go, and the group barely manages to pull through. For the moment though, they appear to have made it.

Duervar pulls the holy symbol off the tip of his pick finally, examining it closely. It weathered the fight below fairly well, especially since so many of his attacks were wild. He returns it for now to the bag at his waist, with the few other symbols that hadn't been lost below.

He nods to Thordek and Nalrak's comments. Stretching his shoulders out again, he gets ready for if they're dropped into a hostile situation.

[mshady]

The Grand Exit

Having made it to the surface, surviving gas attacks and entrenched siege weapons, the group takes a deep breath of cold, fresh air. They are exhausted, bloody and dirty from their work and some of them have a heavy conscience as well about their mission. The shocking intervention of an unexpected third party and the revelations were earth shattering. They had killed other dwarfs too, or at least some of them. It seemed some of them got back up after going down with no other intervention. Clearly there was much more going on here than any of them knew before setting out on this mission, and the only person who did know more had disappeared.
As they gather their thoughts for a moment, they feel the ground shake. The light of the subterranean stoneburner glows through the sky light on the side of the mountain that the dragons had used. The sound of hurried metal footsteps can be heard behind them. Dozens of steps, from the same metal suits of armor that had nearly overwhelmed them just minutes ago.

Nalrak was exhausted, from dehydration and blood loss. Arman was sitting, awake but wounded and in need of attention. The mage bore his wounds quietly. Grathalmor stands by his cousin, and is ready to leave. Thordrek tries to get things organized, knowing their surprising enemy is not far behind them. They had never found the other Arcanii, and Gemma Silvernail was still out there. All of them but Thordrek are seriously sickened by the gas, even Hjalmar, who stands with his hands on his knees and seems to be fighting the heaves.

“It looks like we're clear, good work everyone. Carmard, Buna, if you would prepare the scrolls and begin? We shouldn't go straight to Huddlestone, take us a mile or so out of the town. We don't know how the battle went, and we may want to get our stories straight, I wouldn't put it past Buehler and Glorian to have us.... silenced for what we saw if they thought it would be for the best, so I'd rather we be seen entering the town by as many as possible, if it is indeed still ours…” Thordrek says, trying to do what needed to be done. Carmard’s presence of mind was still dulled by the painkillers from the loss of his leg, but he nods tiredly.

“I’ll take one scroll, Buna can take the other. I don’t think Arman’s in any condition for something like this” he says and pauses. He turns and leans on his crutch before pointing a finger in Thordrek’s direction.

“No one is going to have us silenced. Not over something that canne be hidden, and not for what else we saw. This is still the Patriarchate of Moradin, it is led by honorable dwarfs. We may be asked to keep silence. That you would think that leaders of your Clan would do such a thing is… sad and offensive, but forgivable for much was hidden from us all. Yet I cannae blame them for hiding a shame either.” Carmard looks at Thordrek with his hard eyes, holding his gaze for an uncomfortable long moment again. “A mile out should be fine though. This is not a time to simply… appear in the middle of town. I doubt it would ever fall to such rabble as we face here, but best to avoid mistakes”

He takes a moment and reaches for the scroll, snapping it open and securing it. There is a strong wind building in the valley, and the stonework of the old castle moans from it.

Buna looks at Thordrek and shrugs apologetically, apparently conveying her own uncertainty about the situation. Buna long had a reputation for not being a conformist or getting along with the leadership here, and worried thoughts often found a home with her.

“Alright boss, lets…” she starts to say, before her words are interrupted.
The massive roar of a dragon echoes out of the sky light, and they see the armored dragon climbing out of the sky light. It is clearly wounded, with hundreds of blood stained rents in its armor. The beast throws itself out of the sky light, and rolls down the side of the hill after its tired heave, before righting itself. It snaps with its teeth at its own armor as it rolls, ripping off metal. It’s scales are scorched and it seems some of the metal has been twisted by heat. It must be very bad down below…

“I see our cousins aren’t the only ones who decided it was time to leave” Carmard observes.

“Yeah… Lets get out of here before it decides to come over here” Buna replies.

They can’t help but watch the dragon flap its wings, failing to lift off, and furiously trying to rip off plate armor with its teeth.

If it was interested in killing anyone else, it was not high on its list of things to do at the moment. As wounded as it was, it was still far more powerful then the other dragons they had fought. Surviving a golem, an arch-mage and a hundred dwarf super soldiers was certainly testament to that.

Another quake rocks the area, and a fissure opens on the side of the mountain. A blast of fire, tinged with yellow, blows from the gap. For a moment, the entire landscape was as light as day from the harsh, sudden light.

Nothing stopped the pounding climb of the dwarf’s below though. They kept coming.

“We’re leaving! Gather round!” Carmard says in a full throated yell.

The group gathers around, four by Carmard and three by Buna. The two Arcanii face each other, and recite the scrolls in unison. The scroll is quick, and a dense blue haze quickly forms around them. Not unusual for such a spell. That the haze took on a cyclonical spin was of immediate concern though, and it crackled with lightning as it did, like some sort of bad storm.

The two Arcanii share a look between each other, and accelerate their recitation. The haze solidifies around each member, but the haze has taken on a faster spin. Yowls of pain from several members of the group can be heard, as the lightning cracks. A ribbon of blue and yellow appears around the group, snarling around the group like a deranged, wildly jumping, knot. It flutters rapidly.

Carmard looks about, and realizes he is losing control of the spell, before reaching for a knife. He quickly and decisively draws it across his wrist. The blood wells from the wound, and he presses one hand on it. Next, he reaches out and presses the bloody hand on Buna’s cheek. The scroll he holds in the other hand suddenly turns to ash and blows away, followed by the one in Buna’s hand.

His free hand darts to his bloody forearm and forms a powerful bridge between him and Buna and the whole world goes white for everyone…

[mshady]

The group wakes up slowly, feeling, dizzy, ill, scorched, but alive. They are in a field, deep with snow. They sit a foot or more down in the snow, ice water puddled around them where the spell left them. All of their ears are ringing from the teleportation and it leaves everyone disoriented. Particularly poor Arman.

After gathering their bearing, Buna sits up and looks around. Her face is pinkish, her nose simply burned by the magic.

She looks around for a moment before seeing Hundlestone and pointing at it.

“Nailed it! Mile away and it looks ok too!” she says excitedly.

The others look up to see, what she is talking about with varying degrees of excitement. Home meant different things to different folks right about now.

The recognition was short lived, but turning their heads just then saved their eye sight. The world around them jumped, and the night sky turned azure blue. A scream of rock and metal tearing roared through the air, and everyone turned towards the mountains.

The saw a bubble of flame rise into the sky. Miles into the sky. Massive chunks of mountains went soaring high into the sky. Miles fire, like comets shooting high into the sky. It was a massive explosion, a column of flame boiling out of the ground and reaching high into the sky and falling back into itself. Again and again. For what seemed like over a minute, as the explosion sustained itself. The explosion fell into itself, into a much cloud of flame that lingered.

The ground around them shook violently, as if in a seizure from the massive wound the Stoneburner had torn into it. Everyone bounced on the ground and clung to the snow, just trying to avoid falling into the sky. Even the wind screamed. Hollowed even, as a massive storm front of wind, heat and debris was belched out of the mountain passes. What must have been a fatal wind up close merely melted snow and blistered skin, but it was still painful and a shocking surprise.

…and an eternity later, it was over. Blessed.

The mushroom cloud lingered, the ground still rumbled like an empty belly, but it was over. Only torn ribbons of the Weave hung in the air around site, sparking from their wounds and hanging like limp noodles in the sky.

The Stoneburner’s job was done.

[thorgrim29]

[COLOR="Indigo"]“No one is going to have us silenced. Not over something that canne be hidden, and not for what else we saw. This is still the Patriarchate of Moradin, it is led by honourable dwarfs. We may be asked to keep silence. That you would think that leaders of your Clan would do such a thing is… sad and offensive, but forgivable for much was hidden from us all. Yet I cannae blame them for hiding a shame either.”

Thordrek quickly replies to Carmard before he gets on with the spellcasting

I'd trust almost everyone in the patriarchate with my life in the blink of an eye.... Just not those two. From what little I saw she's cast from the same mould as her sister, and I'm not sure there's anything he wouldn't bring himself to if it was for what he sees as the greater good.


Later, as all hell breaks loose, he whispers in awe

Moradin forgive us....

Then, to the group, with barely faked joviality

I'd say we just beat Nanfoodle's biggest explosion record, I wonder if there's a prize.... Well everyone, we did it, it wasn't easy, and some of us didn't make it, but the mission that took us through three planes of existence and a few dozen miles of underdark is over. I hope the other group got far enough away, that was a bigger boom then I had imagined by a few orders of magnitude. I suggest you take a few moments to count our blessings, and catch our breaths, then we'll head for huddlestone.

He takes off his helmet, breathing deep the pure alpine air, and sits down in the snow, his boots keeping the chill away

[mshady]

Return to Hundlestone

“Who’s Nanfoodle?” Hjalmar asks gruffly. He looks towards the mountains. The fire cloud still glows softly, and strands of Weave hiss in the darkness. Glowing stones return to earth, like comets, landing softly in the mountains. The old dwarf turns and looks at Carmard, shaking his head as he does. He applauds quietly with his gauntleted hands.

“Ye folks really did it. Congratulations, ye can blow up the world! Seems yer Patriarch doesn’t just fancy himself the Chosen of Moradin, but Moradin himself. Watch yer devil lights, I’m going to town for a drink and off to see my Ambassador” the old Paladin says. Nalrak looks at the group and the wounded Arman, who still has a bolt lodged in him, and elects to join him. Hjalmar helps Nalrak haul Arman to town on a hastily made stretcher.

Carmard watches them go and says nothing. Instead, he turns back and looks at the results of his mission. He was forcing himself to look at it, to etch every detail of it into his mind. No one disturbs him, instead taking a moment to examine wounds and readjust battered armor. Only Thordrek’s fine armor is unmarked, with the suit mending itself from the damage dealt to it.

When he finally had seen enough, Carmard asks Buna for a hand. They leave with the rest of the group, pushing through the deep snow. Some have winterland boots so they can walk on top of the snow, but most do not, and the going is slow. The walk of a mile takes a couple of hours, leaving most of them weary and cold. Thordrek’s advice about making sure everyone saw them come in is filed under a “good idea at the time” for most of them. Two teenage boys guard the gate, wrapped in furs, and looking stuff and bored. Hjalmar sits by the gate, leaned against the tundra covered curtain wall with a pipe. He appears to be enjoying a good smoke, but ice flecks his beard and he looks cold. He greets them all with no more than a grunt. His hand rests on his hammer though, and he seems to be in some kind of revere with it. Nalrak appears to have already gone inside.
Thordrek converses with the two guards, identifying himself and their group. It doesn’t take much of an exchange to open the gate. It turned out it was not even much of a gate, more of a formality, as the creaky old thing is lifted up.

Upon entering the town, there is no one there to greet them. The entire area seems to be devoid of any other Patriarchate dwarfs, but they do bump into a couple of humans. They suggest if anyone was here, to go to the warehouses the Patriarchate forces had seized for shelter and to look for a flag. A couple of dirty looks later directed at the group from the local citizens, they clomp through the unplowed streets of the town to find the warehouses.

They find it empty and cold, but there is left over bedding and plenty of fire wood and dung pellets to get the stone hearth fire going. An envelope is left on one of the tables, and the seal has already been broken. Arman lays on a cot, covered in a wool blanket, looking pale and less impaled then last anyone saw them. A bucket of red stained water sits in a corner, as well as several scraps of bloody gauze. His operating tools are still sitting on the table. They glisten, made of a shiny mithril, and there are dozens of instruments and tools there.

Nalrak explains he did not read the letter inside, but had been curious it and requested the honors.

“Comrades:

Should you find this letter, please accept my apologies for missing you. Likely the Forgemark Legion and its auxiliaries are still in the Icewind Pass. It is our hope the power of the Stoneburner will cause the enemy to break for home. They may yet require convincing. If any of you are able, please join us. The more skilled warriors and Arcanii on our lines, the better. If not, I understand. No doubt many of you have serious wounds. Please accept my condolences for any losses you suffered.

When we return and everyone in your group is assembled, I will expect a report on the mission. In the meantime, rest and recover. No one has done more to earn at least a day’s rest.

Sincerely,
Ambassador Toland Jilker”


"Another fight?" Hjalmar asks. He sighs heavily and stands up from where he was sitting. "Anyone want to go north with me, of have ye young lads had yer fill of the blood and guts?

If anyone wants to join the battle, let me know. Otherwise I presume you are staying. I'll summarize any participation.

[Grodech]

Grathalmor felt like retching. A terrible, terrible thing, that stoneburner was. If he ever saw another one in his lifetime, it would be too soon. He hoped the gods would forgive them - Gorm, Moradin and all the others...

Once back at the warehouse, he asked Nalrak to have a look at his shoulder. He was sure there were broken bones, from the way it felt. It would probably be weeks before he would be able to fight again. Just as well, he'd had enough to last him a while.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

In response to Hjalmar

Gnome alchemist, he blew the top off a mountain with explosive gel during the last siege of Mythral Hall

Thordrek makes no move to go towards the battle

I think a few of us in fighting condition should stay with the wounded, and I'm beyond weary, I'd just trip on someone. You go ahead.

After helping nalrak with the wounded, Thordrek sits down and dozes off near the door with his axe on his knees

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Aside from reading the letter, Nalrak is conspicuously tacit. Judging by the large number of surgical tools and the careful treatment of Arman's wounds, Nalrak seems to have buried himself in his work in order to avoid coming to terms with their recent actions. If he was rebandaging, he wouldn't have to reflect and remember. If he was suturing, he could silence the words of Scripture: "Now I am become Death, the Flame that Engulfs the Forge."* If he was healing, perhaps he could stop hurting.

Nalrak welcomes the invitation to have a look at his cousin's shoulder. The good doctor confirms his kin's suspicions; there is a small break in his clavicle, but Nalrak whips up a splint quickly enough--fixing a bone so he wouldn't have to dwell on how to mend his soul. Dragons and golems were one thing, but they had fought--they had killed other dwarves. What effect did that guilt have on the redemption Nalrak had tasted? He put the question out of his mind, instead replacing it with the joyless mindlessness of wrapping the wound. He had practiced the task so frequently that he could do it in his sleep. To an onlooker, it almost seemed that was what the dazed dwarf was currently doing.


“Comrades:

Should you find this letter, please accept my apologies for missing you. Likely the Forgemark Legion and its auxiliaries are still in the Icewind Pass. It is our hope the power of the Stoneburner will cause the enemy to break for home. They may yet require convincing. If any of you are able, please join us. The more skilled warriors and Arcanii on our lines, the better. If not, I understand. No doubt many of you have serious wounds. Please accept my condolences for any losses you suffered.

When we return and everyone in your group is assembled, I will expect a report on the mission. In the meantime, rest and recover. No one has done more to earn at least a day’s rest.

Sincerely,
Ambassador Toland Jilker”

"No doubt many of you have serious wounds." Nalrak couldn't help but laugh to himself as the cavalier line of text resonated in his head. How casually their pain was considered! How nonchalantly the Patriarchate viewed the pressure weighing on the hearts of every dwarf assembled. From that sentence alone, it was abundantly clear to Nalrak: this burden was theirs to bear. The things they had seen, the things they had done; these were not to be the subject of bard's songs. Instead, they were the regrettable actions that had to be taken to ensure there was still an inn waiting back home for the bards to perform in.


"Another fight?" Hjalmar asks. He sighs heavily and stands up from where he was sitting. "Anyone want to go north with me, of have ye young lads had yer fill of the blood and guts?

Nalrak sighs. While the toll of battle was a heavy one, heavier still was the thought of letting his kin bleed out alone on the field of battle because he couldn't keep his wits about him. Perhaps this was the work his ancestors had mentioned that was still for him to do. "Aye, Hjalmar," Nalrak calls. "No point being trained as a battle surgeon if I steer clear of battle, is there?"

*a slightly blatant ripoff of Robert Oppenheimer's famous quotation (http://www.atomicarchive.com/Movies/Movie8.shtml) from the Bhagavad Gita.

[Grodech]

"Maybe ya both should get a bit 'o' rest afore ya head out." Grathalmor suggested.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Listening intently, though seemingly casual about the whole scenario, the warpriest grinned fiercely as the line from the letter was read about joining in yet another battle - with Ambassador Jilker no less. When Hjalmar spoke up, he nearly cut off the words Magnum was about to speak. But he let others have their say first, as usual.

A stoic nod and a chuckle at Thordek's words preceded a beard tugging thoughtful pause at the words of Grathalmor, "Aye, to da battle I'll go, grizzled paladin. But Grathalmor's right, a rest ta recoup our strength seems da wisest plan. I'll help heal everyone who's goin', den prepare spells ta ease our trudge in da cold ta save our strength fer da battles ahead. If ye believe elsewise, please enlighten us wid yer aged wisdom."

Looking around for his new found friend and trusted ally Wyatt, he expected the scout to accompany them as well.

OOC If all agree to rest first, he'll convert his remaining spell slots to healing spells, then work on repairing his armor until he passes out from exhaustion. The next day he'll do a triad spell on endure cold & another on snowshoes spell, then prepare a few others if needed so all who go will have both spells active for the journey.

[mshady]

Just as tired as the rest of them, Hjalmar strips down his armor and does some quick repairs with a small smith’s hammer, along with some other tools. His hammer, Morzhul, is never far from his side. After two portions of trail rations and a tea, the old dwarf shoulders his pack again and is ready to go. He looks tired, but ready to press on through force of grim determination.

“Ready doctor?” Hjalmar asks two hours later, hammer in hand. “There’s Aurilite’s to kill and your boys need us”

The Doctor and the Paladin depart, weary but pressing on. Nalrak barely had a chance to do more than pack his things, with the rush that Hjalmar was in. For these two, it was off to the campaign again.

The rest stay in the warehouse and wait for their comrades to return from the river group, hoping they would return at all. Arman, Carmard and Kelith are confined to the bunks that are set up for them. Grathalmor is hurt, Thordrek and Duervar exhausted while Buna is out of any meaningful magic. Neither Sable or Buehler are anywhere to be found.

Yet, the letter on the table had already been opened…

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

The half duergar sits silently watching the aftermath of the Stoneburner. It was probably too much to hope that the commander got caught in that storm. He was frustrated with himself, if he hadn't stepped back to watch the fighting he might have been able to prevent him from getting up again. Should have driven his pick through the commander's skull, let him accept Moradin's blessing in person.

The destruction of the mountain shook Duervar though. The Patriarchy had so much destructive power at their hands, and even if it was directed at targets that deserved it, who decided who deserved it? It left Duervar with a sour taste in his mouth, wondering if anyone could be trusted to make such a decision. His interactions with Buehler didn't really help that much either, and even with Thordek and Carmard's assurances that they trust the Patriarchy, Duervar wasn't as sure as he once was. He would have a lot to think about in the coming weeks, as the fallout from these actions occurred.

The return to Huddlestone amused him in a really grim way. The conquering "heroes," who had destroyed an entire mountain with a weapon that should not exist, wander into an almost empty town with no one to praise or condemn them. Both would probably come later, but for now, no one seemed to know or care.

The letter was so impersonal. Succinct, terse, to the point. "My condolences for any loses you suffered." And a request for more aid. Duervar shook his head at Hjalmar's question. "I'm going to stay. I've had my fill of fighting the white dragon and his forces, and I need to decide if I still agree with the Patriarchy." He turns to find somewhere to settle down and rest.

[mshady]

A Day Later for Hjalmar and Nalrak.

Hjalmar and Nalrak arrive at the front lines, cold and even more weary. Hjalmar barely stops, setting a relentless pace and Nalrak falls behind several times. It takes a shouted request to get the Paladin to wait for him, and he only grudgingly stops.

When they do arrive, they see that dwarf engineers and Arcanii have erected walls to protect their position. Every day, they had set new walls of stone and other fortifications, creeping across the valley like some sort of moss. All of the Forgemark they see are in trenches, most filled with cold water. Several of the hardy dwarfs are sick, and Nalrak quickly finds work with the Silver Knightingales at a buried field hospital. There must be a thousand dwarfs here, quite a few less than the start of the battle.

The center of the battlefield is littered with the corpses of enemy soldiers, left there to freeze. The easiest to pick out are the frost giants and ogres, several with large bolts protruding out of their bodies. On the opposite side, the Host of Auril waited and were largely without defensive fortifications. A few of their siege weapons sent stones flying into the dwarf position, but it was almost completely ineffective.

Hjalmar finds himself taken to the main bunker of Prince Tolrin and Glorian, along with General Clinkscales. The three are planning an attack in the night against the Aurilites, while they are still in shock. The attack is only hours away, so they have few questions about Hjalmar’s mission and are just glad to have another powerful warrior to join them in battle.

Hours later, the battle does indeed commence. The dwarfs rush forward out of their trenches and bunkers right at the teeth of the Aurilite line. Arcanii fly overhead on griffons, using wands to lay down walls of stone to shield their advance, along with clouds of darkness. After nearly two weeks of constant assaults, the enemy is indeed surprised by the attack. The dragons that had been held back for fear of Glorian’s magic finally head into the fray in formation, intent on driving the flying Arcanii and their leader off only to find they are quick stung by aerial lances, harpoons and magic for aerial knights had been protecting the Arcanii all along. That swirling, vicious fight, quickly spirals upwards into the heavens, leaving both sides bereft of top cover. Occasionally the torn body of a griffon thuds into the snow, or less frequently the flaming body of a dragon or its body parts from above the clouds. It is too dark to see what is going on.

Down below, the Aurilites march out to meet the charging dwarfs. A thousand dwarfs confront three times their numbers, and the meeting in the center is vicious. The highly disciplined and armored Iron Order holds the center, while the Forgemark hold the flanks. It is a slow, grinding, fight but the rigid dwarf formations and rock hard discipline push through the hordes of modestly armored and trained enemy. Only the giants and the ogres cause them real problems, throwing rocks at the dwarfs and weighing in with heavy weapons to exact their toll.

At the very center of all this is Hjalmar. With Morzhul in hand, he stands in front of the Patriarchate troops and hammers through his foes. The hammer spits an occasional ball of fire, killing several, while others it strikes and lights afire. He hammers his way forward, cutting a bloody swath through the enemy lines with his thick armor and powerful hammer, shrugging off blow after blow as he goes, stopping only to heal the worst of his own wounds. Eventually, he makes it to some of the rock throwing giants and takes on a quartet of them. He blasts them with fire and strikes them in a fury, smiting one to the ground almost immediately. The other three batter the dwarf, but he carries on and hammers them right back, eventually felling two more before his own soldiers catch up and help him finish off the last giant.

Drenched in the blood of his foes, and his own, the battered old dwarf hurls himself right back at the enemy line and continues to fight like a dwarf possessed. Enemy soldiers drop one after the other, none are able to pull him down, but exhaustion itself finally slows the old Paladin. Far away from his allies and deep in the enemy lines, he is surrounded by spearmen who stab at him. The dwarf accepts the blows, and while his armor is quickly becoming tattered, he throws himself at his enemy with a war cry heard across the battlefield.

“Morzhul!” he cries out, and with a desperate energy he continues his fight. He knocks down several of the devil orcs he fights now, but these elite forces are a better match for him. He kills several of them all the same, before being overwhelmed finally… A few moments after Hjalmar is plowed under by the pile of enemies, a blast of fire lights up the area once again, but the old Paladin is gone from sight.

After the battle, the Forgemark find Hjalmar laying face down in the snow in a pool of blood. Half a dozen spears are shoved through the back of his thick armor, and his armor is a ruin. His shield lays on one side, fouled by spears and seriously damaged. Tightly gripped in his other hand is Morzhul, drenched in blood and dusted with bone fragments. Its gems pulsate seductively to the other dwarfs, who share looks of consideration, before they notice something.

Despite his wounds, the old paladin and slayer of easily a hundred enemy, was still alive. The Paladin had survived his bloody rampage into the heart of enemy lines. Victorious and owning the battlefield now, calls for medics and Silver Knightgales ring out in the morning. A stretcher carries the delirious paladin to the field hospital, where he is united with Nalrak again. The Doctor, who’s hands are already stained with the blood of many of his kind and far beyond exhaustion, sees his comrade. The dwarf is inexplicable alive, clutching his hammer with vice like intensity and breathing shallowly. He floats in and out of consciousness, and only the last of Nalrak’s magic is able to save the old paladin.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak

The doctor is amazed to see Hjalmar alive. From the tales that floated back from the battlefield, he was confident that this was the blaze of glory Hjalmar had desperately wanted to go out in. Now, he had to admit that he was surprised to see his comrade clinging to life. "I don't know how you did it," he mutters under his breath before getting to work.

[roll0] to figure out why Hjalmar is still alive

[thorgrim29]

My bet is he's posessed by his evil hammer that went insane after a few millenia of isolation

[mshady]

Nalrak and Hjalmar

Nalrak checks the wounds and shakes his head. That the dwarf was alive was astonishing, but it mostly seemed a testament to the dwarf's toughness and his armor.

Upon closer examination though, the dwarf just would not let go the hammer and well, that might have something to do with it too.

So Nalrak works to remove the spears and care for the wounds, and notices something. It just did not seem like the dwarf would bleed out. It was not a bad thing, but he should have bled out from his wounds on the battlefield, but didn't. That could only have been something from the hammer.

Using one of the last healing potions around, he used it on Hjalmar, conceding it was the only way. A minute or so later, Hjalmar woke up. He does little more than groan, but he finally relinquishes the hammer.

With other things to worry about, Nalrak sends his comrade off with the other wounded.

There was plenty to do.

Several days later, he finds himself back in Hundlestone with the victorious and mostly intact Patriarchate army. They take over some of the other warehouses to recover before a long march back north. Hjalmar joins Arman, Kelith, Carmard and, to an extent, Grathalmor in recovery. Nalrak spends some time resting as well, simply from sheer exhaustion...

[mshady]

The Merge

Another day goes by, and Toland, Glorian and Valina arrive as well. They advise the group their comrades were sighted walking out of the mountains, and should be there in a few hours. They were also advised there were many of them, so apparently many of the slaves had survived as well.

Sure enough, the other half of the group does arrive, worn out from their own long journey. Most of them find beds, and while the leadership has questions for everyone, the new arrivals needed a day's rest and hot food. The food was sent for and bed's quickly made for the Patriarchate group. Everyone else was sent to separate quarters.

Johannes, Magnum, Nega, Kal-resh and Wyatt join the Patriarchate group. The only ones missing are Sable and Buehler, for the time being.

DM Note - Finally! Consider the threads merged now. Go ahead, everyone!

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Once they make it back to Hundlestone and get into the warehouse, he gives whoever he recognizes from the other group an enthusiastic greeting and exchanges stories about their adventures.

He still skips the majority of the Umber Hulk encounter, though, for some odd reason that only Magnum might know...

He explains the death of Arum, the gnome wizard, with... well, not really much remorse. Just a quick aside. It was apparent he didn't like the guy too much, but respected his skill as a caster, at the very least. He still has his gear, too, which he casually neglects to mention unless someone brings it up.

He looks around a bit, wondering if everybody is accounted for. He seems concerned, tapping his foot and scratching his head in confusion, when he realizes something is off.

"Where is Sable?"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

After the battle, Thordrek looks around to see who of his friends from the army were hurt or killed, and gapes in amazement when Hjalmar's tale is told to him. When he sees the commanders, he simply salutes them and gives a terse, almost emotionless report

Sir, ma'am, mission accomplished, as everyone from here to Waterdeep no doubt knows. I can report 3 dragons killed before the blast, and at least one caught in it, Xurshin unfortunately not being one of them. Bundok fell in battle with a dragon named Xursdotter, and Buelyeh and Sable are missing in action, they teleported out on their own too close to the active Stoneburner and there seemed to be a problem with the spell, if they arrived anywhere I have little doubt they will come back eventually, provided they don't kill eachother. I will write up a full report tomorrow or whenever I wake up

He turns his towards the exit and glances back at Glorian as he crosses the door

Your sister sends her regards

(i intend to write up a full report of the mission from Thordrek's POV, but I won't have time for that until next week, so if you want to keep the story going it will basically include what happened after Buelyeh took over, and will also have a short paragraph on everyone's individual participation and a list of Thordrek's loot. As I won't be reading 3 whole thread, if you feel like your character did something cool Thordrek knows about, mention it in the OOC thread)

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

When the other group arrives, Thordrek greets them enthusiastically, but offers little information about what happened, saying that he'll let the Powers That Be decide what information is classified.

In answer to Wyatt

I wish I knew, but I'd be very surprised if she chooses to work with us again, she had a bit of a breakdown after you left, and was later dominated by our "illustrious leader". They teleported out of the cave, but there was a problem with the spell, and I don't know if they made it or where they are

[mshady]

The Leaders

"Yes, I was about to request that. I don't know what I would do without people reading my mind like that... " Glorian says, irritated at the remark. She does not turn to speak to Thordrek at first, instead finishing the contents of her goblet.

She turns and looks at the rest of the group, and her chair creaks as she does. Glorian wears a blue robe with gold stripping, and her hair is dyed a deep shade of blue. Her eyes are an almost unnaturally bright blue, and framed with a near permanent scowl. She is old for a dwarf, probably closer to 300 then 200, and has the weather skin and scars to prove it. She was a hard person, and dangerous too. You could know nothing about her and have reason to fear her. That she was probably one of the finest killers in Faerun simply confirmed any assumptions. She knew it too. The woman was skilled and dangerous, brilliant in nearly all things but hardly inspirational. She was not a woman who had limits when serving her beliefs. She talked like a woman who had wielded power for so long, she felt no need apologize for it or explain herself. Not outside of the inner circle, and perhaps not even then.

"Regards from my sister, eh? Yes, we figured she would arrive. Nice to see something went according to plan" she snorts.

Tolrin and the other dwarf woman both look at Glorian for a moment and wince.

"Yes, well I look forward to your report Levtokuld Thordrek. I'm sure there's quite a tale to tell" Ambassador Tolrin says, smiling sympathetically. "You'll have to excuse her, the battle and what you saw takes a toll. I think it goes without saying that what you saw with our cousins requires a certain degree of... discretion. For now though, any report, please deliver it to Valina. She is our scribe and archivist, our Keeper. My condolences on your losses on the mission, especially Bundok. He was a good dwarf and well respected. Arum was a friend as well, and both had travelled with me for some time. This was a hard mission, and on behalf of the Patriarch himself, I extend his congratulations on a job well done" Tolrin says. He had always been wordy, but polite and fair. While a skill user of both divine and arcane magics to some degree, his greatest tool had always been his diplomatic tact. It was why he was the heir to the Clan. Blood helped too, of course.

Valina nods in Thordrek's direction. This dwarf is very fair indeed, and while she wears a fair amount of jewelry and tailored clothes, she seemed the warmest, friendliest and youngest of all three of them.

"I'll take any reports and other news you may have. As for Buehler, he survived and is in town. He's join us when he can. Sable may not be joining us. I understand she, rightly so, had a hard time things towards the end. When we're done, maybe we can turn this all into a grand tale for song. Especially Hjalmar's" she says and smiles. She brushes away a strand of black hair from her

[Toliudar]

Post-Merge

Johannes is relieved to see trusted colleagues return alive. He quickly introduces Kal-Resh around the circle before turning to report. If Buehler was already here, then he had already said, well, something about what happened below. For Johannes' part, he was eager for more details about how things had finished up with the Stoneburner. But his questions would wait. Johannes resisted his desire to make his report properly baroque and over-the-top, trying to restrain himself to fact rather than fancy.

"We were escorting freed slaves and additional troops out of the underdark. Wyatt scouted some barges, and we loaded supplies and recovered gold onto five for transport. Initially, we made good headway. Several hours before the appointed detonation time, a tidal wave and earthquake swept through the tunnels, and we lost 11 people and two of the barges. The drow brothers, despite being separated and out of contact with each other, managed to escape in the blast.

"Further along, we faced poison gas in the air and some kind of black goop in the water. At the same time, the Black's Company mercenaries mutinied and demanded a larger cut of the treasure. We reached an understanding, but they never followed through on their initial demands, and seemed to settle in to contribute during the rest of the journey. Still, Marcus made it very clear that his loyalty, such as it is, was to Buehler and not the Patriarchate. I would not recommend making use of them in the future.

"By contrast, I would especially like to recognize the contributions of Magnum, Nega, Wyatt, and this fine orc, Kal-Resh. All three stepped up in times of need during the journey, marshalling others and putting their own lives in jeapardy at several stages of the mission.

"Now, where was I? Ah, right! We used air from a conjured elemental to stave off the worst of the gas, and made it through to an underground lake. There, scouts saw what I believe to be an aboleth and a rather scruffy svirf rothe-herder. While we ashore, planning our next move, the drow brothers Bhineth'lyn and Drath'lyn crept into the camp. Bhineth'lyn tried to trade information on the creatures of the lake for his swords - he seemed obsessed with those swords. We killed him, but Drath'lyn escaped.

"Scouting ahead, Wyatt and Magnum battled a mighty umber hulk, clearing the path for our journey. We made it across the lake safely, and made our way up through tunnels, caverns, and mushroom forests. We broke surface on the sixth day after we first set out on the barges, close enough that we were able to see the fires of Hundlestone."

He turned to those of the company who had stayed to manage the Stoneburner.

"The view of the crater is, to be honest, astonishing. Not beautiful, but astonishing.

"We spotted the white wyrm Xurshin, circling the ruins of the mountain, then heading off to the north. Moving quickly over the exposed ground of the mountainside, we reached Hundlestone...this evening.

"The men, orcs, goblins and minotaurs of this group all worked closely with the dwarves to ensure our survival, and they have been carrying their share of the supply and gold packs with them to this place. They took up arms, such as were available to them. They fought dragons, and some of them died in that fight. It would seem an abomination to me if we were to now treat them as anything less than peers and honoured survivors."

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt seems... distraught, when he learns that Sable did not come back with the group.

"So... so she isn't here... but she's still alive... somewhere. I hope. ... 'dat's... 'dat's good, I guess." He seems conflicted, looking away. "She was a good friend to me. We ran a lot of crazy stuff together. Wayward, Sigil, the Godsmen, the hobbos... I hope Shaundakul sees her to safety." He resigns himself to that much, and shrugs. "Thanks, Thor."

He stands at attention when Johannes recognizes him to the management, though he reminds silent.

He raises an eyebrow slowly as Joh explains the events in the tunnels to leadership. It dawns on him that he has relatively little idea who these people are, but he figures they are important - having not met any of them prior to getting captured by orcs. He fidgets a little in his silence when he realizes these things, but mentally steels himself. Someone is going to ask questions sooner or later - he might as well be ready for it.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Leaving the detailed reporting to Johannes, Magnum stood just behind the dwarven dandy and right beside Wyatt. Boisterous and bellicose in battle situations, he was far from loquacious when it came to reporting. Besides, he couldn't think of anything to add to what he considered a thorough job of it done by Johannes.

He simply shrugged off the recognition, after all it was nothing more than a day's work to him. He glanced at Wyatt when the Umber Hulk was mentioned, giving him a chuck on the shoulder with his elbow as he released a rare and supportive chuckle, but added nothing specific. He had come to like the halfling very much, and trusted him quite a bit. Though it was not in his nature to show much of such emotion, he spared such favor to those he considered friends and dependable allies.

Paying close attention to the talk of what happened after they left, he gathered in every detail of what was discussed, staring at the leaders for any outward clues to their reactions. He knew Glorian only by reputation. Ambassador Tolrin he knew personally, having spent some time with him on the road prior to this assignment (iirc?), and rather liked the noble heir. Valina he knew only slightly, and had always thought she was very attractive. But his proper place in this world was at the forge, training troops, or on the front lines seeking out the toughest enemies to defeat in battle, and he looked forward to returning to one of those activities soon.

Thus his only utterance was to that topic, eagerly asking "So, what tough task is next ta be accomplished fer da Patriarchate by us?"

[mshady]

Ambassador Tolrin

"I'll answer that, Magnum. Good to see you made it. Losing Arum and Bundok was tough, glad some my travel companions made it. All of you did very well on a tough assignment, both to do and carry with you. The next tough task will be a bit of a summit. Between the Chosen of Auril and Moradin. Day and place will be soon and somewhere between our home and theirs. We are to present terms to the dragon and draw a map. Or we are sending another Stoneburner to him.

Of course, depending on how the summit goes, the Patriarch may kill the dragon then and there. There are merits each way, but the Patriarch has requested the survivors of the first mission to be his honor guard" the Ambassador says and smiles kindly, first at Magnum and then the rest of them.

"Now, what happened to the other group? I understand our cousins made an appearance" he says and taps the table. He shares a glance with Glorian.

"Tell me what you saw and what they said"

[Gryndel]

Magnum

With a respectful bow of his head, Magnum released a rare half smile at Tolrin and replied, "Thanks, it'd be an honor indeed."

Though he looked a little troubled at the mention of another Stoneburner, being personally against such a destructive force that caused such horrendous collateral damage, the Alaghor couldn't deny its effectiveness as a weapon. While he had no moral concerns about it either way, the catastrophic crater it created in the mountain and the affect on the Weave gave him pause to ponder the possible chaos it could create in the long term. But that decision was well beyond his scope of responsibility, and he accepted it on a minor level, promising himself to think about it more.

A further furrowing of his bushy brow indicated his deep thoughts about this, as well as wondering if his own Patron Deity would accompany Moradin during this summit.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

The day after the other group arrives, Thordrek walks into Valina's office and hands her a rolled parchment and a book. While he lets out small grunts of pain now and again when his body reminds him it does not appreciate the abuse and he is clearly far from 100%, the bone deep weariness of the last days has started to leave him. Before writing his report he had visited, as was becoming his custom, the shrines of Moradin, Dumathoin and Glanngeddin, the first two to make penance, the last to offer thanks.

At Moradin's temple he apologised for his part in destroying a soul and the killing of other dwarves and left promising the cleric he would work at the temple's forge for a day in penance as soon as he had finished his immediate duties. If the cleric asks why, he simply points in the direction of the explosion. He also prays that the fallen find their way to Moradin's halls.

At the Keeper of Secret's shrine he left a handful of the gems he brought back from the dragon's lair, and silently communicates his regrets at the destruction of an historic delzoun site.

Finally, at Clanngeddin's shrine he offers as thanks for his victories one of the fangs he took from "his" dragon's maw.


The report reads in a neat but not overly ornate script:


An account of the Patriarchate of Moradin's first use of a Stoneburner and the travels preceding it, by Thordrek Torrun of the forgemark Levtokuld (along with the date, I don't know it but Thordrek would)

This account picks up after our return from Sigil, as numerous reports have been made of the preceding events, including one by me.

Having enlisted the aid of Prince Tasster and his sons as well as Lady Nega and a few more Minotaur under Kerik many-skulls, we followed Arcani Carmard through a gate into the Underdark. It should be noted that the elf Arman Madero, despite nearly crippling injuries sustained in the preceding days, decided to follow the mission through. We also brought along the Godsmen leader Kaladus and Regina, taken prisoner at the battle in Sigil.

The gate had a slight malfunction, but everyone made it trough and we quickly moved out. At a Patriarchate encampment, we met with allied duergar forces led by Sollinor Stonebreaker, and despite frictions with the paladins we managed to join forces with them and continued our journey. The Sollinor took us to his camp, and it was there we met Buehler Granvil, who took over command of the mission and brought along an unsavoury band of mercenaries, Black's company, who had some history with Sable.

We then assaulted an aurilite outpost held by hobgoblins, ogres and frost giants. The battle was long and hard fought, and while we lost some of our allies to the aurilites, we eliminated the commanders of the outpost (a mine) and retrieved valuable intelligence (I include the commander's journal with this report). After liberating slaves, stocking up on supplies and building a few siege engines out of the fort's furniture, we headed to the next target, a fortress protected by ice walls.

The next battle appeared significantly harder. The fortress was very well fortified, and the forces defending it were numerous and disciplined. Fortunately, I managed to lead a significant portion of our forces in a flanking action while the Duergar played anvil (I must note that Sollinor Stonebreaker and his forces were invaluable, and it was my honour to fight alongside them), and Arum (may the surly gnome find peace) used his blast globes to devastating effect. But, seeing the fight was lost, the commanders fled to the next defensive position, so it was all in all a minor victory. We learned from a freed dwarf child that the leader was none other then Horvrath of the Chill Wind.

The next position, the gateway to the dragons' lair proper, however proved to be a real challenge. Sable managed to poison their food supply a few hours before our arrival, but still it was a fight for the history books. Along with the now familiar waves of hobgoblins and ogres we faced several frost giants and Horvrath's guardian, some kind of construct, amazingly skilled at combat, and with a few nasty tricks, not to mention the wizard himself. We took the beast down, but not before it wounded most of us badly and maimed Carmard, and I gave Horvrath the finishing blow as he was trying to flee. Johannes then arrived on the scene with a few hundred freed slaves, and I took a few of them and Arum with me to support the duergar forces. There, the sollinor and I got in a fight with a fiendblooded ogre mage and his cronies that almost ended in our death, we were saved only by the favour of Moradin and Johanness' timely arrival. Meanwhile the battle raged on, and with the help of the freed slaves our forces managed to carry the day despite the presence of more aurilite champions, including I am told a frost giant riding a dire bear and a giant sized ice golem controlled by a mighty wizard.

Then, proving that no good deed goes unpunished, a band of freed slaves led by two drow who claimed to be members of Bregan D'haerthe took our wounded hostage. The situation was... tense, but Buelyir and the Drow worked out a compromise, and the combat ready slaves stayed with us, including a few old friends of Wyatt's, while the Sollinor and the rest of the slaves left to try and outrun the blast.

Not far from there stood the last enemy position, a despoiled temple of both Moradin and Berronar. I led a small force to take it, and we made short work of the defenders. Unfortunately, we also found a huge crowd of civilians hard at work calling Xurshin to their aid. We got them to shut up, and barely had time to open up the armory when we heard dragons incoming.

Johanness and I led the Wayward sons (Wyatt's friends) and a bunch of other slaves against one dragon on the roof of the armory, while the main group dealt with the other 2. Many freed slaves died in that battle, along with Bundok Battlehammer, but in the end we prevailed thanks in no small part to Sable. After dealing with out wounded and laying the dead to what rest we could, we examined the spoils of victory and planned our next move. Though I did not see it, apparently Nalrak fell in battle and was brought back by Alaggor Magnum

Among the loot were many items evidently retreived from the ruins by the aurilites, and examining them revealed that the outpost had also been an Hizagkuur mine and an important base in the war against the Phaerim. We also found an adamentime box apparently containing what ancient Dethek script described as "the Reaver that ends the line". We therefore decided to leave the box right next to the Stoneburner to be destroyed. The anvil in the middle of the temple proved to be an ancient artifact, and Kaladus used a ritual to take it away from the temple, allegedly to deliver it back to the Patriarchate. Assuming he did, I suggest we consider his debt with us settled and avoid Sigil for a few years or decades, as his power was greatly enhanced by the ritual and he is most likely imposing his will on the Godsmen as I write these lines. I took a suit of armor to replace mine as it had been damaged when the dragon Zurrsdotter tried to eat me, and as Duervar and I cleaned it and restored it to a usable condition it proved to be the most amazing peice of both smithing and enchantment I have laid eyes upon. It also has engraved in the back a map of the old Delzoun empire, and as such is perhaps the most valuable thing to come from this mission. It is is also heavily enchanted, apparently by Karsus himself, and therefor has properties I cannot even begin to guess. Used to belong to a fellow named Gorgrim if the inscriptions on it can be trusted. The others also found great treasures, especially Hjalmar who seemed inordinately fond of his hammer. That weapon should be examined, as it seems to exert some kind of influence on the paladin, but I have not been able to make a guess as to it's nature

Johanness led the main group on barges down the river, and I will leave it to him to report on that adventure. We finally decided to let the civilians go with as much food as they could carry.

The next morning, Sable returned from scouting the surroundings reporting a large army of Aurilites force marcing to the temple. We spent the next hour or so setting up field fortifications and preparing the stoneburner. Nalrak also used a powerfull enchantment he found in the loot to raise an army of undead from the old dwarf tombs around the temple.

That's when it all went wrong-er. A shadow-weave wall appeared in the stairs just as the last civilians were leaving, and we heard them being slaughtered by something making clockwork sounds. After much speculation they attacked. They bombarded us with the burning skulls of the slaughtered civilians and poison gas, and set their zombified bodies against us, along with a few flesh golem. Carmard activated the Stoneburner and Kaladus enacted his ritual, and then battle was joined. The undead were soon joined by a band of devils, and just as we were getting the upper hand an object that looked similar to our Tombstones was dropped down the stairs. As the devils did not vanish, confirming that our enemy had made a pact with them.

We retreated nearer to the stoneburner, and waited for our enemy to make himself known. Leading a force of clockword armored dwarves was a dwarf woman, Gemma Silvernail. She made many claims about the Patriarchate and asked for our surrender, and then Buehler made opposing claims. As his tale fit better with what we knew and they had just attacked us with devils and undead, most of us beleived him, though we still were shaken by the revelation that several more souls were being tortured into stoneburners, to be used against dwarven cities. True or not, those kinds of allegations are enough to shake anyone's resolve.

She asked for Buehler as prisonner and for us to withdraw peacefully so she may deactivate the stoneburner, who was by then surrounded by a lake of boiling magma. As the commander was directly concerned and was acting increasingly erratically, Carmard removed him from command with no opposition, and for some reason decided to put me in charge. At this point, he was either deliberately trying to goad us into surrendering him, or had actually lost control, and as there were 11 of us and we had only enough teleportation capacity for 9, I decided to leave him and Kelith (who had by then been paralysed below the neck by a dragon and wanted to die) behind. Buelher used some kind of mind control on Sable and ran off with her, leaving us to carry our wounded up the stairs.

We then ran into a party of clockwork dwarfs led by a knight and an arcani. At first they told us they would let us go when they had proof Buehler had surrendered, and told us we would be taken to reeducation camps if not, cementing my belief we had made the right choice in not trusting Gemma. When the previously mentioned aurilite army attacked and Buehler escaped they attacked us. Though their armour is formidable, we fought them off, reaced a safe distance for a teleportation, and got away a minute or so before the explosion.

End of report




((hey, whatever happened to Nalrak's skeleton army?))

[OMG PONIES]

Ambassador Tolrin

"Now, what happened to the other group? I understand our cousins made an appearance" he says and taps the table. He shares a glance with Glorian.

"Tell me what you saw and what they said"

"Aye, Ambassador," Nalrak says while at attention. "We encountered opposition from the Unalloyed. Engagement was necessary for a successful exfil." Nalrak paused there, praying that any details would and should be kept confidential. In the face of superior officers--especially superior officers he was no longer sure he could trust--the verbose doctor was all business, terse and direct.

It was bad enough that Gemma had labeled them as heretics, but to respond with violence had been a basic symptom that confirmed her diagnosis. Nalrak's faith had been shaken since, and he kept coming back to one simple question: who are the heroes and the villains these days? Does the former even exist any more?

Tolrin's admission of the contingency plan for the summit seems to give a bleak answer to Nalrak's question. There was the possibility of another Stoneburner? Nalrak exhaled heavily, but quietly enough that his superiors could not hear. He thought they had made a decisive, horrid blow out of necessity, much like performing an amputation. Instead, they had simply opened the floodgates. May the gods have mercy on their souls.

[ArmanMadero]

The last day or so for Arman was a blur. Having to fight the clockworks and dwarves with a bad leg was bad enough. Having that wall of fire come up in front of him made it worse. The bolt in the belly, about sent him to Mystra herself.

He didn't remember much after that happened. He knows that someone carried him away, and he remembered seeing the stoneburner explode with such a force, that the Weave itself hung in tatters where the mountain used to be. Shimmering in thin ribbons and fluttering in a non existent breeze as it tried to repair itself.

Arman wasn't sure that would happen. So much power in a little box!! The horror of seeing it go off, would give him horrifying dreams he was sure.

He knew his reverie wasn't as fulfilling as it should be, but given the circumstances, he was ok with it for now. Sleep was a human state, one which elves did not reach unless extremely ill or injured. Which was him.

He knew the bolt had been removed and the wound taken care of. He wasn't looking forward to his leg being reset, and he hoped it would be soon.

[Grodech]

Grathalmor spends his recovery time generally avoiding the higher-ups in the patriarchate. Things were said, and discovered, when they were below and he was having a hard time wrapping his head around it. He trusted those that were below with him, mostly Carmard and Buna more than any (other than Nalrak, of course). The devastating effect of the Stoneburner had rattled him to his bones, and he didn't want to have anything to do with another one ever again. He and Nalrak had several private conversations and hadn't come to any conclusions on who or what to believe any more...

He made good on his promise to Buna to share some ales if they had gotten out of that alive, to the point that the two of them had spent several days in a drunken stupor.

After that he made good on his promise to see that the two skulls he had retrieved were given a proper burial, and visited several smiths to see about getting his damaged equipment repaired (pending the information about what was his and what needed to be returned, if anything). He also visited the quartermaster, as Carmard suggested, to point out the flaw with the guns (they needed to be magic to penetrate a dragon's hide...)

[BelGareth]

Kal-Resh simply nods and smiles to everyone he meets, his large canines jutting out and over his upper lips, making him look severely feral and possibly drawing many a stare from the stoic dwarves that did not know him.

After Johannes gives his debriefing, Kal-Resh is tired of the stares and changes shape into a dog and recedes to the back of the room, but not to far from Joh, and lies down, realizing he was far more exhausted than he thought possible, the events of the days all piling up and finally being released he was asleep in seconds, his snores going throughout the building.

[OMG PONIES]

He wasn't looking forward to his leg being reset, and he hoped it would be soon.

As the brass reviews Thordek's report and pieces together everything that had happened, Nalrak mutters an aside through his beard to Arman. "Still favoring one foot? I can reset that for you after we adjourn."

[mshady]

After Action

"We'll read the report. Particularly Sigil and Carmard's actions that led to starting the Stoneburner early. That was reckless in the extreme. The hiring of yugoloth mercenaries as well. The damage that caused, actions with this Regina and Kaladus, the mess with the Takers was bad. Very. Very bad. I'm going to review it very carefully. Arcanii Carmard will be lucky to BE an Arcanii after this. We're lucky we be on a different Plane, for the Godsmen are QUITE upset about how our forces and our weapon helped destroy the Great Foundry. The Great Foundry we did business with, thank ye very much" Glorian says, looking amongst the group before turning her gaze back to Carmard. It is a hard, imperious look.

"Since when do we pick up strays on secret operations? Just picked up anyone you can find, Carmard? At least they're not as worthless as a slab of shalestone. The halfling I understand, but a half orc savage too? Well, see to it they get paid and understand they should keep quiet on the finer points of this. Everyone knows what happened, but how it was done is still a secret matter" she says, shakes her head and exits the building. She spares Carmard a withering glance as she leaves, and the wounded dwarf just stands there with his crutches and looks down at the floor. He sighs heavily and says nothing.

"My apologies for her" Ambassador Tolrin finally says, "it's been a hard fight for her and she lost several of her Arcanii against the dragons, with more to come potentially. Between that and our cousins' return, we both have much on her mind. She just shows it more" he says and smiles diplomatically. He seems a bit exasperated by her truthfully.

"Now, halfing, do you have a name? What about the half orc. I'd be interested in knowing who you are at least. I extend the hospitality of the Patriarchate or Moradin to you, and I am sorry your introduction to us was on such a tough task. I understand the halfing and Sable were an effective team. I regret to inform ye that Buehler says that Sable is dead and that he himself is still recovering from his injuries"

DM Note: Still doing the immediate aftermath, and Ill try to type up the next part this week if I have the time. Still in New Jersey till Saturday, pecking our stuff at the hotel lounge.

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt watches Glorian walk away, staying silent until she leaves. "So 'dat's Glorian...? I'll make sure to stay out of her way..."

Wyatt simply stares at Tolrin, at the news that Sable is dead. His hands fall to his sides, and he looks away.

"No... 'dat can't be right... she's... she's too clever for 'dat. She..." he sighs, rubbing his forehead. "I... I can't believe... I'm gonna have to talk to Buehler at some point. I... I'll deal with 'dat later. ... Tymora smile on you, Sable."

He shakes his head, looking at the floor. He gathers himself for a moment, sighing again, and looks up at Tolrin. He is clearly distraught, but manages to keep himself composed and professional now, for the time being. "Sorry. She was a good friend to me. As for me, well... I'm Wyatt Akturus, and I'm a scout, and boy did your crew put me to work. Lots of firsts... swinging through windows to fight stubborn clerics of my own faith, defending a noble woman of sorts from a hostage situation, disabling massive traps on a castle, dropping a jury-rig alchemy bomb on a circle magic ritual and actually breakin' it, beating a frost giant to death, helping with a slave uprising, getting chewed on by a dragon, guiding a line of barges down a river during a cave-in... the fact 'dat I'm standin' here and talkin' to you right now surprises me more 'dan anything."

[OMG PONIES]

"I regret to inform ye that Buehler says that Sable is dead and that he himself is still recovering from his injuries"

"Buehler says." Perhaps it had been their meeting with the Unalloyed Church of Moradin or the recent late-night talks with his cousin, but Nalrak had recently come to the conclusion that anything spoken by representatives on the Patriarch should be taken with a grain of salt. The doctor wouldn't be surprised if Buehler's words turned out to be true, the fatal blow delivered by his own hand. He gives a silent moment of reflection for the human mercenary who had been so fearless and full of insecurity at once.

As Nalrak raises his eyes back from the ground, he spots how bad Arman's wound is. He notices that the spot around Arman's wound is simply soft flesh, as the bolt chipped away a good fragment of bone. The surgeons and clerics had already done what they could to repair it, but even prayer and magic had their limits. He'd need something that could help him regenerate the bone itself. The only one Nalrak knew with that kind of skill was the Patriarch himself, the top dog in a pack that Nalrak wasn't keen to stick his hand in anytime soon. Laughing at it all, he gives Arman a sad smile. "Don't think I could do anything but agitate that, friend," he apologizes. "We'll need to petition the Patriarch for his ability to regenerate your bone if you really want that healed right. After all, a sail without a mast is just cloth."

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Johannes receives Glorian's rebuke with a casually hefted eyebrow. For a woman who did business with the Foundry in Sigil, she was pretty quick to judge others on the basis of skin. Or, in Kal-Resh's case, fur. And how secret could this operation be, when they were reporting in the middle of a warehouse, and a hundred survivors are now scattering throughout the Ten Towns.

Johannes steps up next to Wyatt as he reports.

"Wyatt here may have been a, shall we say, recruit of opportunity, but he was largely responsible for the survival of dozens of Patriarchate troops. As was this fine half-orc, Kal-Resh."

[BelGareth]

At being talked to, Kal-Resh perks up, he jumps up, walks over to wyatt and waits for him to finish talking, it was obvious the little halfling was distressed, and he had grown a soft spot for him, with all the scouting and vanguard missions he had spent a lot of time with the hin.

Once he was done, Kal-Resh changed into his speaking form, he shifted and changed until he was the hlaf orc from before, the feral wild thing that shouldn't have been picked up.

"My name is Kal-Resh" he shrugs "I was a slave among tha rest, thought I could help out, got no home to go to, got nothink." he thinks for a moment and then shrugs again with nothing else to say.

[mshady]

Ambassador Tolrin walks over to where Wyatt stands and places a hand on the halfling’s shoulder. He smiles at him sympathetically. Tolrin is not wearing armor, but a simple black vest with an overcoat. A gold chain hangs off of a watch. Beneath the armor, mithril chainmail can be seen though, as well as a pistol inside the jacket. One of the Patriarchate’s heavy mauler pistols.

“All of us know how hard it is to lose a friend, especially one ye’ve been to war with. I respect your loyalty to her. Talk to Buehler, if ye can find him, about this. Sable was a lost soul, more lost than most. She was also a murderer for hire, a troubleshooter and a criminal. She brought a different perspective, a good scout and a deadly fighter.

She was also an assassin, who worked for gold and asked fewer questions. The difference between her being your friend or killer may have only been who hired her though. If her death came at a time in her life she was asking questions about her own life, the tragedy is she never got to seek redemption for the life she lead. At least the God’s know Sable died serving a good cause” Tolrin pats Wyatt gently on the shoulder.
He seems concerned for the halfling’s grief, but provides a sense of pragmatism concerning who had died here. Sable was an assassin, and it was not a line of work a good soul found itself in.

“It is good to meet you, Wyatt Aktarus. It sounds like you acquitted yourself well, and were along for most of this tale. Skilled scouts like yourself are always welcome in the employ of the Patriarchate, for it is not a skill Moradin gave many of my people. I understand ye were part of a larger group of mercenaries, and some yet survive. We would be willing to hire all of you on, and provide you a safe place to call home for as long as you would like it. "

Tolrin turns to Kal-resh and casts a somewhat wary eye towards the half-orc. He shrugs though, and approaches the half-orc.

“You too acquitted yourself well, I am told. I am glad you and so many other slaves survived the slavery down below. The Aurilites are as cruel as a cold winter. If you would like a home and to earn a good living, we would extend a similar offer, for a shape shifter is a very valued person and this area is a wild landscape you might grow fond of” he says, patting the half-orc on the shoulder.

[mshady]

Ambassador Prince Tolrin Jilker returns to standing in front of the group. Dressed as a businessman or barrister, he is clearly a refined sort. He reaches for a white bone pipe, carved into the shape of a ship, and takes a puff off of it before carefully setting it next to a stove pipe hat on the table. He was good with words, intelligent and if a bit blunt, certainly sincere. Or at least he was very skilled in the image he projected.

“I too must be off, and look forward to reading Thordrek’s report. Despite Glorian’s words, I’ve known Arcanii Carmard many years and whatever he did, I assume it was of necessity. We should all be careful of judging decisions made in the midst of a situation. His greatest offense with her is simply that his actions distracted her from her own considerations, and she has little patience for that kind of thing. She is the kind of woman who thinks that, if a boulder blocked her path, it would be the boulder’s obligation to go around her. That kind of clarity of purpose is needed at times, especially at war, and I ask that ye respect her for what she is, not who you and I would wish her to be. She has had a harder life then you might expect, and it has left her as a hard woman” he says and pauses, looking at the others.

“I sense many of you have questions. Your faith has been shaken. The power we used was too much and ye worry about its’ use. Maybe you wonder about who you are serving, and why we told you so little. There are reasons for what we do, and our portraits are done in shades of gray, not bright colors and clearly delineated lines. Our story is best told by my the Patriarch himself, but you will have a chance to hear his words after the summit. Rest assured that all we do, we do in the cause of a greater good. I must be off to prepare the summit and I expect to see all of you, who are able, there”

Tolrin bows to the group, deeply, in a sign of respect and smiles at them. He calmly reaches for his pipe and his hat and heads for the door. With Glorian and Valina already gone, and Buehler nowhere in sight, the group is alone in the warehouse.

[Strangie]

Wyatt

"We were known as the One and a Half Sneaks. She told me I was one of the few people she could trust to watch her back. It meant a lot. I don't think... she would lie to me. You sorta... see someone in a different light when you've been to hell and back with 'em. But I suppose 'dat's the kind of risk you take with 'dis kind of work... Thank you, sir, for your kind words." He gives a respective nod to Tolrin.

He nods again at the mention of his fellow mercenaries. "Yeah, 'dat's right. I was part of the Wayward Sons. Tec'lic, Viktor, and Eoin should still be around... 'dey're the survivin' crew of our lot. I'll have to catch up with 'em as soon as I can. I'll let 'em know of your offer, too. And I appreciate 'dat, as well. I'm gonna... need some time to figure out my next steps, but I'll definitely consider it."

He listed intently to Tolrin's next words to the group collectively, and watched him walk off. He stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where Tolrin had turned the corner, with his hands at his hips... thoughtful. He shook his head for a moment, before turning to the rest of the group.

"Looks like it's just us, now... now I don't even know what to think anymore after everything 'dat's happened..."

[mshady]

The Summit – Lac Dinneshere

Seven days later, a summit is set to convene between the Patriarch and Xurshin, the Chosen of Auril. In a flat clearing between Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval, a series of tents have been erected. These two towns are both fishing villages, just south of Kelvin’s Cairn and Soulhammer Hall, the old halls of Clan Battlehammer and capital of the Patriarchate of Moradin now. The tents sit on an ice crusted beach full of black pebbles and stones. It is as barren as barren can be, with only the skeletons of old fishing boats dotting the bleak beach. The wind moans through the valley, and the cold that comes along with it is as biting as ever. It was winter now, and winter in this part of the world was a miserable affair. To keep everyone warm, several fires dot the beach and armored dwarves huddle around them for warmth despite their heavy fur cloaks and long beards. Lac Dinneshere, or Lake Dinneshere as others would call it, is frozen over now. It did not take long for several feet of gray ice, streaked with brushes of white snow, to form solidly.

Off to the south east, the mountains still glow from the Stoneburner. Distant ribbons of Weave still spark in the air, as well as an occasional pall of smoke or rumble in the ground. Several dwarfs stand behind cobbled together stone walls, to protect them from the wind, with spyglasses. They circle the camp, but most of the attention is focused on Lac Dinneshere itself. Several massively armored minotaurs stomp around the camp as well, restless and ready for battle

In one of the tents, all but Carmard, Kelith and Arman sit. They are all huddled around a fire, talking and roasting bits of cheese and sausage. They have all been here 3 days now, waiting for the arrival of Xurshin. The cold had been punishing for everyone, and Nalrak had been busy around the camp treating others for frostbite. Ambassador Tolrin had made the rounds in the camp, letting everyone know that the Frostmaiden, Auril, was punishing them for challenging her Chosen and that they all must defy them.

In the biggest tent, a pavilion erected by magic, the surviving members of the Forgemark of Moradin had gathered to entreat with the dragon, and possibly slay it. These included Ambassador Tolrin, Arcanii Primus Glorian, Buehler, Valina, Generals Barakas and Genar Ironborne, as well as the Patriarch himself. Also in the main tent was High Faenor Bital, the Matriarch of Berronar and First Mace Nega Silverhammer, both from nearby Sunderhelme. Inside the tent, Duervar has been invited to resume his old duties with the Forgemark, if he so chooses. Otherwise, he remains with his new comrades. Atop the tent, a longer banner snaps in the wind. It bears the banner of the Patriarchate on top, as well as an equally sized flag below. It is the emerald eyed mountain lion set against a snow topped peak, for once Clan Jilker were known as the Mountain Lions of the Thunderpeaks.

After a long, frozen, vigil, calls of alarm go up in the camp. The word “dragon!” is shouted out, as the enemy had finally arrived. A stream of dragons, at least a dozen, circle over the camp for a long minute. They are high above, thousands of feet up, but clearly visible. The dragons plunge from high above and land on the opposite shore of Lac Dinneshere. One by one, they fall from the sky and flare their wings as they land. As each one lands, the dragons roar a steady, fierce note that the next one picks up to produce a long, unnerving roar.

The last arrival is many times bigger than the others, a vortex of wind and snow surrounds it and the temperature goes down several degrees. This massive dragon glows with a whitish blue light in its scales, and when it lands, it’s roar overpowers that of all its kin. As everyone files out of the tents to look, they see the other dragons bowing down to the new, massive one. A dozen other dragons lower their bodies and lay their necks out of the beach as the massive one rears on both feet and spreads its wings in a frightening display.

This ancient wyrm seemed hundreds of feet long, with a wing span that seemed to stretch the length of the narrow beach it had landed on. It fans its wings and opens its maw, sending forth a blinding snow storm that whips through the camp with supernatural force. Tents are peeled open, and flags are torn from poles. Anyone who stood outside to watch dives to the ground to shield their eyes and exposed flesh from the sudden cold. After a minute, the cold subsides to merely frigid temperatures and visibility returns.

Standing in front of a dozen other dragons can only be Xurshin, the Chosen of Auril and one of the largest dragons in the known world.

[Toliudar]

Johannes

The slender and beardless dwarf huddled in closer to the fire while they waited for the aurilites to arrive. He had been grateful to Thordrek for the boots, and had given them back, gift-wrapped and perfectly buffed, the day before they'd set out for this summit. And it felt very good to be back in his much-loved old boots. But that didn't mean he didn't miss the special magics of Thordrek's footwear.

He was nervous about this. Half a dozen times in the last few months, he'd seen examples of dwarven 'diplomacy'. They didn't inspire confidence. Add to that the still-glowing remains of a mountain stronghold in the background, and the prospect of having dragons who had lost kin in the fighting...yeah. Not a good combination.

He'd taken the slight precaution of reshaping his appearance on the day before they arrived, adding in a healthy beard and about fifty pounds of bulk to his frame. He shifted his markings to more closely resemble a Patriarchate scout. Normally, he'd find the attire drab and uninspired, but there were times when it simply didn't do to stand out.

--

As the dragons began to appear and land among them, it was hard to fight down the memory of the wave of fear that had swept over them in the last battle. He remembered, all too vividly, watching the thrashing dragon crash through a dozen warriors and the roof of the building. Hearing the screams from the other battle sites. He fought back an urge to reach around for his bow.

And there was Xurshin. Xurshin, whose attention they had so fervently sought to avoid just a week before. Johannes had not been invited to stand with the Patriarchate delegates, and while he tried to nurture a bruised ego over the slight, he was too plainly relieved not to be front and centre for what might become a truly astonishingly bad situation. No, Johannes was content to be off on the sidelines, with the clever and reliable Wyatt, the soft-spoken half-orc Kal-Resh, and a few other dwarven colleagues.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

The Alaghor made the rounds with Nalrak in the warehouse to help mend the harm suffered by those wounded in battle. Though he was no real healer, and certainly no surgeon like Nalrak, he had the ability to convert spells to curing magic. This power he used sparingly on the battlefield, typically only for himself or others badly wounded to continue the fight. But now he saw no reason to reserve any of his daily allotment of blessings while warriors and their ilk suffered for days.

Magnum often sat and talked at length with those who had stayed behind with the Stoneburner. He didn't pressure them to speak of it, though he always gruffly asked their opinion about it. But he made himself available for casual companionship and was always more than willing to just listen without judgment or comments, other than to encourage more conversation and seek understanding.

He also spent some time trying to repair his armor and to begin the process of crafting some useful weapons from the Umber Hulk bits he had collected.

At the Summit he used many of his minor spells to help relieve those suffering the most from the cold, including himself, casting multiple Endure Cold spells, made more numerous by Triad spells. He reserved his highest level war spell for the benefits he gained in battle from having it, and retained many of his other spells in case violence ensued.

When the dragons started arriving he made his way outside and moved closer to Johannes and Wyatt and his other recent companions. He casually commented, "Big'un huh?", giving those around him a slight shrug and nod of his head in reassurance.

Always ready for battle in any situation, he seemed eager that the meeting with the chosen of Auril turned violent. But he also knew his place well in the hierarchy pf the Patriarchate, and thus did nothing nor said a word to invoke any such occurrence. He was quite interested in the dragons, being a powerfully potential foe, and his hands were never far from his weapons and shield. Amazement at the sheer size of Xurshin blended with his battle hardened mind on seeking ways to defeat such a creature in battle and the glory it woudl bring Clangeddin should he be involved.

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt simply stayed off to the side, watching the dragons. He didn't seem terribly fond of this idea as a whole, though he did appreciate the fact that his Boots of the Winterlands protected him from the chill and made travelling in the snow much easier for him.

"Got 'dat right," he replied quietly to Magnum. Paranoid as ever, he glanced all around... he was hoping this wouldn't turn out to be some sort of trap laid out by Xurshin or his followers.

Not dying to some damn four-legger today. Not now, not ever, he thought to himself, and frowned.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

In the days before the summit, Thordrek had done his best to figure out what the various magical items he had picked up did, especially the armor. He copied the map of the old Delzoun Empire and the other inscriptions and sent them to barakbar.

Meanwhile, he spent a few days at the forge, after the battle there was no shortage of work, and at the warm glow of the forge he managed to drive away some of his demons and guilt.

At the summit, he was glad for his foresight in purchasing his boots of winterland, and antsy to get it over with. Then the dragons landed.... Suddenly he was longing for the cold boredom. Since he was an actual member of the Patriarchate, he was posted close to the command group, and waited nervously for a resolution to come about.

[mshady]

The flap of the large pavilion opens after the roar of the dragons subsides, and Duervar comes running out of the command tent. He is wearing full armor, and his pick has been repaired. Indeed, he looks well groomed for once but he is still the same surly fellow despite resuming his old role with the Forgemark for perhaps the last time.

“Buehler says we are going out to meet the dragons on da center of the ice. Says to put all the defenses up ye have that will last. Not sure what to expect, but we’re dealing from a’position of strength. He just hopes they realize it” he says and laughs bitterly. “They’ve got a lot of faith in the Patriarch, and ye know how I feel about faith. Come on, time to go meet the neighbors!” he says with mock excitement. Sarcasm and a dry sense of humor from Duervar were always to be expected. In the background, drums beat and horns blow, signaling the Forgemark Legionnaires and mercenaries to get ready, just in case someone might have missed the meaning of the ferocious dragon roars.

The group shares a mutual look, either dread or in Magnum’s case, excitement and heave themselves to their feet and follow Duervar to the main tent. The twin banners snap in the wind, and snow drifts through the air. It was cold, well below freezing, actually. They can all see their breath in the air. As they approach the main pavilion, the flap of the tent flips open once again. Out of it, dwarves start to march grimly out of it and form up along the edge of Lac Dinneshere.

First out of the tent is a healthy looking Buehler Granvil, the leader of the Stoneburner mission and no one’s particular favorite. He is wearing a black cloak with golden trim, a sallet style helmet and magnificent breastplate none had seen before. At his side, in a highly ornate sheathe, is his katana sword. Several pistols are held in holsters on his leg and belt, along with some other weapons. All of his outfit is tan, gold or black.

Next out is Valina Glanrak, also wearing the black and tan cloak. Her long hair is hidden under a spangenhelm and an aventail of gleaming mithril chain. She too wears a breastplate and knee high boots trimmed with fur. A mechanical crossbow hangs at her side, with an extended clip as well as pistols and short swords. A horn is also present, nearly hidden under the cloak, as well as a sturdy looking lyre. The youngest member of the Forgemark, she has none of the previous lightness and humor. It has been replaced by a deadly serious look.
The two brothers, Barak and Genar Ironborne stride out of the tent next. Both wear full plate armor, black and tan again. Barak was the General of the Forgemark Legionnaires, and was a legendary weapon master using martial techniques rarely practiced anymore. His training manuals had served as a basis for all Legionnaires, as well as a hand in developing the Levtokuld training. He was a supremely confident fighter, a force of nature on the battlefield and a gifted general. There was no better dwarf in the entire Patriarchate that was better in a melee. Today, he favored a massive two handed sword strapped to his back. Barakas wore no beard and had a shaved pate, but it was hard to tell under his helmet.

His brother wears heavier armor and bears a shield with the Jilker heraldry, and it looks like a powerful magic artifact. As soon as he exits the tent, the old dwarf raises a towering battle standard with the banner of Moradin upon it. The standard shimmers from a haze of defensive magics. Genar himself was the oldest member of the Forgemark Brotherhood, believed to be well past 300 and sporting a knee length white beard that was tightly braided. He was the Commander of the Patriarch’s Own, a small force of halberd wielding dwarfs. Reputedly, the only way to become a member of the Patriarch’s Own was to die gloriously in battle AND be personally raised from death by the Patriarch himself, followed by having numerous defensive wards as well as swearing powerful oaths to serve the Patriarch and him alone. While old, Genar was a master of defensive fighting with sword and axe or spear. Both appeared to be decked out in rings, amulets and other magical gear.

Next out of the tent is the Arcanii Primus, Glorian Silvernail. She wears no helmet, and her spiked blue hair waves in the wind. In her hand is a staff that Thordrek would immediately recognize as Netherese in origin, as well as a golden axe, numerous wands and an open robe over a breastplate. She too glitters with magical equipment, but also wears the same cloak and color scheme as the others. Even from a distance, she simply walks arrogantly and has a dangerous air about her. As skilled a mage as she was, she was also quite skilled in melee as well. Behind her walk a quartet of massively armored minotaurs with a large looking trunk. It was hard to tell if Kerik or Gore were part of that group, but the armor these minotaurs wore looked far more advanced than what the others wore and they were enameled in Patriarchate colors. Everyone knew what was in the trunk they bore.

Out of the tent next The Ambassador, Prince Tolrin Jilker. He had traded his barrister’s suit and top hat for heavy armor and the Forgemark Brotherhood’s cloak. Tolrin bore his throwing hammer, as well as considerable magical equipment that had not been seen before. He was festooned with wands and guns, but otherwise everything he wore seemed quite tailored to his body and wore a silver torque around his neck. It was easy to forget that Tolrin was a rarely seen theurge, combining divine and arcane magic and a student of both Glorian and the Patriarch.

Next out of the tent is Faenor Bital, the Matriarch of Sunderhelme and reputedly the highest ranking cleric of Berronar Truesilver in the land. She is accompanied by First Mace Nega Silverhammer, the leader of the Valkyries of Berronar. Most of her Order was in the camp. While the others all wore the Forgemark cloak, they both wore silver cloaks and shining silver armor. The Faenor had short cropped red hair with streaks of gray in it and chubby cheeks, but was broad shouldered and was known as a powerful warrior in her day. Descended from a clan of dragonhunters in the glaciers of the far north, she had no love for the Aurilites. She bore a unique looking staff with a cross beam and several ropes of silver rings. They glowed with a subtle golden hue. Nega’s armor was the same as last she was seen, but now repaired. The wings on her helmet have also been repaired, but the helm otherwise covers her face. Sunderhelme and the Silver House was technically a close ally to the Patriarchate, but effectively part of it. The long standing rumor was that the Patriarch had sought to wed Matriarch Bital but had been refused for reasons unknown.

The group lines up at the edge of Lac Dinneshere, with the minotaurs positioned behind them. The previous Stoneburner party is motioned to by Buehler to stand with the minotaurs and follow when they began to move, presumably.

Finally, the tent flips open one more time and a procession of heavily armored, halberd wielding troops flow out of the pavilion. This was the Patriarch’s Own, the hardest regular unit in the Patriarchate. They form up behind the others and wait a moment for the Patriarch.

The moment comes after a beat, as the tent is flipped open once more. The Patriarch, Hignar Jilker, exits the tent and looks around for a moment before joining his comrades and escorts. He wears an open faced helmet with a crown upon it, that is bejeweled with green emeralds and blue sapphires. The Patriarch wears no beard, but instead a bushy mustache and has a serious demeanor. The Patriarch is barrel chested, but a hit shorter than his comrades, actually, but was known to be in excellent physical shape despite his age. His armor is the natural black of adamantine, with golden trim and of a cunning, articulated design similar to what Thordrek was wearing. He bears a staff in one hand as well, and it is one everyone in the Patriarchate would recognize: The Hammer Staff of Moradin, an artifact that dwarves had fought dwarves over going back to ancient days. It had great divine power, but also allowed a true king to access the wisdom of his ancestors who had wielded it before. On his belt, he carried only one weapon, the legendary Heretic’s Bane hammer. The hammer is short handled with a big block of metal shaped like an anvil, but with a beak spike at the end.

The Patriarch walks up to his guards, and several of them crouch and set down a platform that he stands on. It levitates off the ground, lifting the Patriarch a good 5 feet off the ground to allow him to look over the rest. The Forgemark Brotherhood, as well as the Faenor and the First Mace, look at the Patriarch and all bow slightly to him. He raises a hand and points across the ice before speaking. Other dwarfs have gathered to watch the procession of their leaders, and the Patriarch tries to position himself so all can see and hear him.

“Clan and Kin, across dis froz’n lac is an ancient evil. A Chosen o’ the Frostmaiden herself. Several dragons have died these last few weeks, but many more of us have too. After a daring mission to destroy one of their homes, we have finally forced them to parlay with us. The dragon fears the next one now. It fears that someone, finally, has stood up to it. My intent is to cease our constant fight, to allow them to stay in their area and they no longer bother us and areas under my protection. Make no mistake. This is not a negotiation. It be a demand! Either they yield, or they will die. Now, all of you but the ones who bravely destroyed the first stronghold, stand off the Lake in case. Whatever happens though, be prepared. Moradin bless us all!”

[Gryndel]

Magnum
The Alaghor nodded once to Duervar and grinned fiercely through his beard as he began casting a series of spells. He offered to share the magic with Duervar if agreed.

Spells cast:
On me;
Magic Vestment (on Armor - 9 hours)
Endure Elements (24 hours)
Resist Energy [Cold] (90 minutes)

Me and/or others;
Mass Resist Energy [Cold]; Wyatt, Kal, Duervar or someone else?
Snowshoes via Triad Spell (SC); Me, Wyatt, Duervar or someone else?

Did he get the chance to get his armor repaired of the damage it suffered?

With a dubious glance at the trunk carried by the minotaurs, Magnum was very glad to hear about the demand his leader intended to deliver. He eagerly marched in his proper place behind the Patriarch, beard bristling with pride. He was more than ready to fight for the realm he loyally served and happy to be part of the advance group chosen to confront the dragons.

[mshady]

A Dance with Dragons

The Forgemark Brotherhood walked on to the ice of Lac Dinneshere, frozen snow crunching under their heavy feet. The Patriarch’s Own escort the Patriarch himself, who stands above the others on his platform. Trailing behind them is the remaining members of the Stoneburner group, minus anyone left behind due to serious injuries. Behind them is a quartet of fierce looking minotaurs, hauling another large trunk. Presumably with another Stoneburner.

On the opposite side of the Lac, the dragons see the advance of the dwarfs and step on to the ice as well. The ice cracks under their combined weight, but it does not buckle. Both sides continue a slow march towards the center of the frozen lake, as neutral a ground as was available. Behind them, soldiers took postions behind boulders and loaded ballistas, in case something happened. Whatever protection they had, they were still greatly exposed in the event of an aerial attack.

As the two groups draw close, Xurshin finally speaks in an immensely deep and threatening voice.

“Close enough, dwarf king” the Great Wyrm says. Behind him, the smaller dragons flare their wings in a threatening gesture. It would be intimidating, if not for the massive dragon that stood before them. Their sire, their master, and their Goddess made flesh.

“Want to keep a safe distance, eh? Fine” the Patriarch says back, and snorts derisively. He raps the levitating palanquin he is riding on with his staff. It lowers to the ground and he hops off it, just before it comes to rest on the ice. He seems surprisingly spry. The mutual growl of the dragons accompanies his descent. The response of the Forgemark Brotherhood is an unconcerned chuckle to their leader’s words.

“Speak quickly, dwarf. Having you and your runt brothers here together tempts me with a fury. You killed several of my sons, but I have sired legions. The laws of my kind require satisfaction against dragon killers. Not parlay.” Xurshin says to them. Around him, several smaller dragons leap in the air and hover. The size of dogs to as large as horses, these young dragons hover around their father. The voice is loud, and it is at the edge of fury.

“Don’t give me the dragon killer revenge shale stone! Ye eat the mothers of all yer sons, and kill any one o’yer sons that get too big. Ye killed more dragon then I ever did, but I agree they’re tasty” the Patriarch smiles defiantly. Buehler even raps a gauntlets against a cast iron cook pot and grins wildly. Xurshin snarls loudly at them.

“Hit a nerve? Well, having us all here together means all problems can finally be solved. One way or the other” the Patriarch replies. The mustached Patriarch actually gives the dragons a half smile, and drums his fingers on his hammer.

“Your Ambassador said you had a proposal. Propose. Boring me, this is” Xurshin growls back at them, after a moment. The massive dragon rests on its haunches for a moment, lowering its neck and head to regarding the dwarf party at nearly eye level. The head was massive, able to swallow large animals in a single gulp. His teeth were as long as a dwarf stood tall.

“You and I, we have a history. You tested me and my brothers, killed some of my friends but respected my power, just as I’ve respected yours. Even had a couple of common interests from time to time, as neighbors do”

Hignar says, being completely conversational with the massive dragon.

“Get to the point, King of the Dwarves” Xurshin rumblines back at him.

“That be my point! I stayed out! My kin stayed out. Out of mountains my kin once toiled in. Out of old Clan Holds and Delzoun ruins you and your sire now claim for lairs up and down the Spine! You tried to control the only road into here, threaten a town and demand their children as tribute. Hundlestone be under my protection, and that be where I draw a line" the Patriarch roars right back at the dragon in a voice that would curl the toes of the hardest warrior.

"Only Kings understand Kings, so understand me well. Whatever you do to me going forward, there is only going to be one response. I’ll burn another one of your mountains. Not just burn it down, but leave a fiery pit of lava in the heart of your mountains” the Patriarch says sternly to the dragon. He turns and gestures towards the party that had taken the Stoneburner into the heart of Xurshin’s territory.

“Those few took one of those Artifacts right into the middle of one of your lairs, but all we really have to do is get close. Just a few dwarves, is all it took. Look at them, and what they did to you. The Stoneburners are the legions I sired. We dwarfs live a long time, and as the Chosen of Moradin, I wager I’ll have a time longer still. Unless you want to spend the next few centuries fortifying yourself in fear of more Stoneburners for the day I come, heed my proposal!” the Patriarch says, nearly yelling the last part at the dragon.

Xurshin pauses for a moment, before lifting his neck and raising his head to its full height. Nearly a hundred feet in the air.

“Propose, already!” is his only response, but it was a seething one.

“It’s simple. You stay in the Spine and out of Icewind Dale. Out of the Frozen Far, the glaciers, all of it. Stick to your mountains, never threaten Hundlestone, the Icewind Pass or towns to the south. Not even Luskan. In return, we stay out of your mountains and out of your affairs. Otherwise, there will be another demonstration closer to your home. A bigger one. I’ll come into those mountains with my brothers and sisters and lay waste to anything else we find. Simple proposal. Simple penalties. Agreeable?” the Patriarch says, his tone stern and fearless. The dragons response is long in coming.

“Agreeable” comes the answer, finally. It spits the words from its mouth, and snarls widely at everyone. The teeth were indeed massive, and even 50 feet away, its breath was a cold blast of air.

The Patriarch crosses his arms and simply nods at the dragon.

“You can go now. Look around one last time and remember the view while ye are eating yer mates. You won’t be seeing it fer awhile” the Patriarch says to the dragon, this time plainly mocking the massive thing. He even goes so far as to point to the mountains, as if commanding an unruly child to go to his room.

Xurshin roars at that. Loud and furious. When the roar ends, he looks around and flares out his massaive wings. They beat several times and he slowly rises into the air, his immense weight being carried aloft with massively powerful wings. The dragons around him, large and small, do the same and head into the sky. Snow and ice crystals swirl around everyone as the dragons depart, and everyone watches them go.

Hopefully, no more of them will be seen again.

With the dragons finally gone, disappearing into the mountains, everyone can hear the Patriarch breath an audible sigh of relief. He walks back to where the minotaurs stood with a Stoneburner trunk and lips it open. Instead of a terrible weapon, everyone in the party can see the trunk is instead filled with chunks of ice and several dozen bottles of alcohol of various descriptions. The dwarf chuckles and removes his crowned helmet, setting it in the ice. Next, he rummages around it and withdraws several bottles of ale and walks over to the survivors of the Stoneburner attack with a wide smile on his face and an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Now that this is all over, I think that calls for a drink! These be from my private reserve, The Patriarch’s Own Ale! Brewed it myself, I did. Something a little special about them too, they’re never ending bottles of ale. How great a thing is that, I tell ye? What did ye think I had in there? Another Stoneburner” he says and laughs, and passes out large, brown glass bottles of ale imprinted with the mark of the Patriarch. The bottles tingle slightly in everyone’s hand, wearing gauntlets or not. If anyone tries a bottle immediately, the ale is dark and quite strong but has a nutty flavor to it.

“I’m sure ye all have questions about things, but keep them to yerselves for both the questions and the answers may worry others. In a tenday’s time, I’ll hold an audience and ye can ask myself and the others anything ye want and get a no rothe shat answer, whether ye like it or not. Ye stopped a war with what you did, and cannae be commended enough for it, but I’ll try anyways. Hundlestone was just the beginning of his plans for the North, and they had to know the cost o’doing that business would be far too high to tempt. As ye can see, we need that problem to go away to focus on other ones. When ye come to the Moot, bring Prince Tasster and his sons. Time I spoke with them as well” he says and smiles kindly to the group. He seemed truthful enough, but the best liars always did. Or the words could be the truth.

Turning to face the tent, Hignar puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles sharply in three quick blasts. Out of the pavilion tent, a white creature shoots out of the tent and flies through the air towards the Patriarch. A very small white dragon lands by his heel and looks up at him. The Patriarch tosses a couple bits of meat from inside the pocket of his cloak to the creature before smiling at the presumably shocked group.

“My inside source, Xuryurt. Not all of the young dragons appreciate their cannibalistic father. There would be a lot more dragons in the mountains up there, but he kills any of them that object. This little fella got away. A few others too. One day, when he is big enough, might go back and cause some trouble eve,” Hignar says and pats the dragon on the head, only to have it nip at his hand and puff some ice crystals at him.

“Now let’s go home” he says and waves for the rest to join him. An ale in his hand, and his crown left in a chest of ice, the Patriarch of Moradin and Rightful King of the Jilkers in Exile walks back across the ice, a small dragon following him and whistling a tune.

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Kind custom curtsies to great kings, indeed. It would seem that the Patriarch is not all bluster and racism after all.

Johannes breathes a sigh of relief as the dragons take their leave. To be honest, he breathes several, and then one more for good measure.

At the promise of answers and an audience in moot, Johannes simply nods and tilts his head, considering. There were indeed a great many questions to be answered, but whether he felt safe in asking them...that was a much longer pondering to ponder.

--

As the bottles are passed around, Johannes takes one with a cautious nod and pops the seal. He takes an experimental sip. The combination of magic with the fermentation process could lead to extraordinary things - he sort-of remembered one particularly good night with the Sensates with a keg of Arborean Blueberry Port - but it also skewed things towards the bolder and less nuanced tastes. Still. He nodded approvingly at the first taste, and reached out to clink bottles with Magnum in toast.

"I don't always drink ale, but when I do, it's Patriarch's."

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Nodding to the toast, Magnum actually smiled at Johannes' comment. After clinking his bottle with Johannes, he upended his and tried to drain it, only to find it had no bottom - or at least no end. Being an advanced brewer himself, the ale pleased his professional principles and delighted his personal taste.

Recapping the bottle, he placed it in his haversack and bowed slightly to his King, "Ahhhhh, a right fine brew too, honored Patriarch."

Magnum did indeed have a few questions, and was certainly not afraid to ask anything he thought worthy of inquiring of his leader. He thought others might likely ask the same things he would, and he scoffed once at the idea that they might worry others. Though it was likely a wise ploy, he thought such open inquiry would likely be educational for all. But he was not about to argue with the Patriarch about it, at least not here and now.

Seeing the little dragon surprised the Alaghor a bit, but only for a brief moment until he hears how it came to be associated with the Patriarch. He chuckled softly at the playful little creature, almost considering the possibility of obtaining a similar "pet" for himself someday. After all if he was going to have a "pet" a dragon would be one of the only creatures he would consider having as such a companion.

Proudly marching behind his leader, he used his musical skills to hum a deep harmony to the tune he heard whistled.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

After the parley, Thordrek takes off his helm and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. He gratefully accepts the beer.

I always had a taste for holy water

As they walk back to the base, he jests to the others

Too bad, fair bit of money in dragon hunting

After a few minutes

Then again, it's not like this peace will last very long, I give it a few years, a decade at the most

[mshady]

The Patriarch

"Glad ye enjoyed the brew, have to say I had some help on the brew'n but the magic'n at the end was mine. What we need be a good brewery somewhere" he says with surprisingly unguarded cheer, but the smile fades slightly. "One o'the many things we're lacking, this far to the North. Something I'll be changing, if I can... Tolrin if I don't live to see that day" the Patriarch says, his voice more melancholy.

He stops and looks around at the snow blown terrain. The wind howls for the hundredth time. He actually appears a bit sad as he looks around.

"Well, let's get goin'. We will see how long this peace last. I get the sense Old Scales was nay too happy about what happened. Was expect'n more of a discussion, why I put on a show. Good to get off the throne now 'nd again" he says and waves for his guards. The Patriarch's Own Guard moves around him, surrounding him and protecting him. The actual Forgemark Brotherhood stands apart, walking behind their leader.

End Scene

[Gryndel]

Magnum
"Aye m'lord, a northern brewery..." Magnum trailed off with a thoughtful look on his face. He had never really considered anything other than a life of battle, however long Clangeddin favored him to survive such a life. But the possibility of running a brewery, combined with work on anvil and forge, and training troops for battle, appealed to him as a sort of 'retirement' plan. He knew full well his abilities and skills qualified him to do such things in life, though he vastly preferred battle and adventure. Still, it was worth considering, and certainly they were noble endeavors in his mind.

For now, at least, he set his mind to where the next battles might take place, and just what dangerous mission he might have the opportunity to serve on after the audience with his King.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

In the weeks leading up to the summit, Nalrak had been...different. What had previously been religious conviction had recently become Nalrak's guiding light, directing his every step. Because of this, he had decided to forego material possessions--except for one. The Ironfist Guantlet was put aside when Nalrak donated his weapons, armor, and magic. Instead of giving it to the poor and needy residents of the city, he gave it to his cousin. If the priests in the temple knew of this, they would have torn him a new one. But the relic had to stay inside the Ironfist family, as did the secret of the exchange.

At the summit, Nalrak found himself warm despite the fact that he wore only a simple set of clothing. As the dwarves passed around the never-ending bottles of ale, Nalrak politely abstained, which was very odd indeed. Apparently the doctor had decided to pursue a simpler way.

[Toliudar]

Johannes

The foppish, beardless dwarf is back to his chatty self on the trip back to Hundlestone. He's chatty with the others about his plans to go shopping in Waterdeep in the week between their return and the audience with the Patriarch.

"Think of it, friends.Waterdeep is a city of boundless opportunity, variety and charms. Tire of its pleasures, and you are tired of this world. We, meanwhile, are war heroes, and rich to boot. Waterdeep will open itself to us like, well, it would be impolite to impute to a city any particular sexual apparatus, but my goodness, gentlemen and ladies, the fun we could have..."

[Grodech]

As the gathering made its way from the grand pavilion, Grathalmor winced at the sight of the trunk. He was now closer to one of those than he ever wanted to be again. He'd spent the previous week trying to talk Nalrak out of this poverty nonsense, unsuccessfully. Now his tatoo glowed a fierce blue as he walked next to Buna on their trek across the Lac.

The dragon's display was impressive. The fact that the Patriarch not only didn't flinch in the face of the dragon, but was actually goading it was even more impressive.

He was relieved when the dragons left. Even more so when the trunk was revealed to be carrying ale, and not another Stoneburner. He gladly took one of the bottles, but nearly dropped it going for his axe when the young dragon burst forth from the tent. He nipped on the ale all the way back across the lake, and then as they made their way back home.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Waterdeep does sound good, I've never been there but from what I've read and heard about it it could be a fun time. We should really sort out how rich we actually are before going of course

[BelGareth]

It was obvious the half orc felt a little out of place among all the stony faced bearded dwarves, he was constantly in animal form, only changing long enough to answer a direct question, and only fast enough to change back as soon as possible.

He kept close to Johannes, Magnum, and Wyatt, knowing only them, and keeping company with no one else.

When the dragons came, he appeared on the heels Joh as a snow leopard, his stark white fur letting him blend in with the snow and ice of the Lac as he loped along with the rest of the group.

He whimpers slightly as the dragons landed and roared, especially the large one, he watched the rest of the interaction from between Joh's feet, his hackles raised the whole time.

When the Dwarf-King spoke to the dragon he relaxed slightly, only fully relaxing when the dragons flew off, not liking the interaction at all. He had never seen a dragon, let alone see one as large as the Dragon-king, or even hear one talk! It was marvelous and strange, and scary all at the same time, he was glad he had his companions to hide behind, trying his best to ignore the bitter coldness, he thanked what ever strange dwarf that had cast the dweomer that kept him warm, but it still didn't warm him completely from the extreme cold.

After the king offered them some beer, he almost changed back, but thought better, he was the dwarf king, he wouldn't want to talk to a half orc, let alone a savage that was tag along, he would stay how he was and keep out of sight, that would be for the best.

When Joh started talking about the deep water, he got a little confused, he stretched his legs, as he rose, he was in the form of a dog and he yawned his mouth wide, trotting over to Joh he shifted so he could talk better, or at least be understood.

With a raised eyebrow he looked at them all quizzically:
"Kal is confused, why would dwarves want to go to Deep water? Is there big fish there?" he said, scratching his head, his eyes went wide suddenly "Are they tasty?" he said with a big grin.

[mshady]

The Audience with the Patriarch

A week goes by before the audience with the Patriarch, a week in which the group has time to recover and repair. As well as time to think about what to do next, as well as what to ask the Patriarch. If anything. The invitations come 3 days before the audience, delivered by one of the Patriarch’s Own. Each is a small parchment letter, with a wax seal bearing the Patriarch’s seal. Each letter appears to be hand written, in square like dethek script. Even Kal-resh gets one.

Greetings:

Consider this a formal invitation from me to meet in three day’s time, at mid-cycle for lunch in my chambers. Bring your appetite. Meet at the Temple of Moradin in the Soulhammer Halls, and ye will be escorted. I want to extend my thanks again for the mission ye have undertaken, as well as an opportunity to speak about what ye saw.
I only ask that if you attend, I have your oath of silence about what ye will hear.

Sincerely,
Hignar


The letter contains no formal titles, or other sort of references to station. Aside from the seal, it is pretty much a normal correspondence.
For all who chose to go (presumably all of you?) walk through the winding hallways of Soulhammer Hall, old hewn halls of stone. There are many living quarters, work areas, forges, mushroom groves, deep wells and training yards. Like many a dwarf city, it was built like a fortress. The halls have a certain cold dampness to them, and most passageways are only wide enough for one dwarf at a time to pass through. There are a few main passageways, for moving large loads, supplies or troops.

As with many dwarf fortresses in this Age, it seemed lonely. While hardly one of the great Delzoun Citadels, like the one they had just destroyed or Mirabar or Adbar, it was a place build for thousands but held half that number. For all that was gathering here, from new dwarfs, mercenaries, knowledge and power, the place still had a damp chill only warmed by coal hearth fires. The lonely Halls themselves seem old and sad, the home of a people in decline but grimly holding their ground.

When they finally make it to the Temple of Moradin, deep under Kelvin’s Cairn, a detachment of the Patriarch’s Guard is waiting for them. They do not hold their Lucerne hammers or halberds, but instead short axes and swords, to better fight in the confined spaces. Both dwarfs appear younger than might be expected, and they wear open helmets this time. One has a deep scar on the side of his face, but the other appears fine enough. Both have on immaculate armor, enamels and polished to perfection, not to distract from the fine quality or weight of the armor they wore. Nothing could compare to the heavy suits of the Other Jilkers, but they were certainly equipped for their job.

“The Patriarch has finished his afternoon prayers, and will see you now. This way, please” the younger, unscarred one said.

“By that he means, move yer arses. He is not one for wait’n for people” the scarred guard said, his voice far more gruff.

So they walk into the Temple, take a side passageway and enter the rectory, where the priests lived. They move past that and down another short passageway. The smell of cooking food wafts down the hall way, of sizzling meat and breads. The hall itself is quite a work, and every few steps a large block can be found with the Holy Symbol of one of the dwarf Gods or Goddesses. Each one includes the Words of each God, as well as the Dethek runes stating “blessings be upon ye”.

“He calls it The Path of the Pilgrims. Had it carved here, was a big thing with his closest kin. When he walks it each day, he stops and says a prayer by each. If he’s nay in a hurry. Someth’n from back home. Rare he comes out much. Rare to have visitors” the scarred guard says….

Hold for any posts…

[mshady]

The two guards escort the party to the Patriarch’s chambers, deep in the heart of the Soulhammer Halls, along the Path of the Pilgrims. They enter a small, round chamber with several benches and a log book, along with a quill and a fresh ink well. It is entitled “Visitors”. The guards request that each of you sign in. It all seems highly unusual, but they explain that the Patriarch liked to keep meticulous records. They advise you to take a seat, and the scarred guard knocks on the next door of a very heavy looking door. A slot slides open, and they speak to someone on the opposite side, advising them “the guests are here”. The slot closes, and a moment later they hear a mechanical spinning sound like some sort of bank vault. The door swings open, gliding silently on a great hinge, and it is no mere door but a 10 ft thick metal construct that is immensely heavy. It is made of a sandwich of several kinds of metal, with a concrete core and lead sheathing.

They are greeted by none other than Valina. She smiles to everyone and waves them in to a large chamber. She is wearing a conservative dress, made out of earth silk and dyed black along with a gold necklace, earrings and braclets. Her hair hangs loosely, long brown curls that frame a square but comely face with a friendly smile, rare here. While the youngest of the Forgemark Brotherhood, she is still close to two centuries old and it was starting to wear on her a bit.

“Well, welcome to the Patriarch’s Rectory. Good to see all of ye again. He’s expecting you, of course. Sorry for the security, but I think ye can see the need. Follow ‘long” she says and waves them along. The chamber itself is filled with trophies. Along the back wall is the skull of a massive dragon, with a name plate under it reading “Andra Moyen – Terror of Cormyr”. There are several other trophies around, from dozens of holy symbols from Gods like Cyric, Bane, Lloth, Bhaal, Auril, Kossuth, Tempus and more. Heads of several demons, teeth of other dragons adorn walls, a pirate flag, Thayan banners, a jaw of a vampire with a plate under it reading “Mira Thiltender”, quite a few weapons and the robes of a Shade Prince. There is even a letter of thanks, sealed in glass, from Lady Alustriel. On the center of one wall is a map of the world, with red pins stuck in it, apparently notating where the Patriarch had been.

The room was a museum to the career of a successful adventurer.

Valina notes some of that, but largely lets it go unaddressed. The room speaks for itself. They go through a few more areas, before another door opens. Inside, they see a large stone table that has been set with fine silver. Flagons of ale sit on the table, as well as a whole roasted pig and plates of both mushrooms and cheese. Two younger dwarves scurry about, and set two iron pots on the table and have a hearty smell to them. Valina inquires about them, and one of the stewards explain it is a mushroom bisque, one of the Patriarch’s favorite recipes.

From the kitchen off to the side of dining room, a dwarf emerges from the kitchen. He is wearing plain brown fatigues, with tan pants and a white apron around his waist that is covered in stains. He stops and leans against the wall with a pensive look on his face and the smoldering stub of a cigar in his mouth. He looks over all of them and says nothing, a serious look on his face before giving them a slight smile.

“Glad ye could make it. Just in time for a late lunch” he says in a thick dwarven accent and smiles, this time more broadly. “Now, if everyone else could take their leave, that’d be much appreciated” he drawls, in pitch perfect Surface Common. He waves the others away, and even a somewhat surprised Valina takes her leave from the room. No one seemed to question leaving him without guards and unarmed. The museum chamber seemed to speak to why that was unneeded.

“Just all of you, and me” he says, after everyone leaves the dining chamber. “I spoke with Prince Tasster yesterday actually, in the throne room, ‘bout his request for assistance. I told’em we will look into his needs. I understand the Paladin Hjalmar has decided to return to the side of his own Ambassador instead of mine. He’ll be returning down south, to serve with the Army of Gold. Left his hammer with us, said it was a creature of the North. Nega has other duties, and Carmard is still recovering. So is... Kelith, is it? Not much recovery for him, but I'll try” he says and simply shrugs regarding all of that, disappointed but not overly so apparently.

“So, have a seat. Enjoy some food. Had some help, but prepared it all myself. Simple fare, but I never cared for finer dining. Learned a lot o’recipes on the road, and like to stick to what I know. Stubborn dwarf in me, aye? Oh… one special thing” he says and reaches for a black bottle from a bottle rack carved into the wall.

“Spider wine. Made with a paralytic poison. Popular with the drow. Recommend sipping that one, but an exotic taste. If anyone’s so brave…” he says and smiles, proud of the acquisition apparently.

“Eat first though, talk later. My only rules here, aside from what was in the letter. I’d like to hear what each of ye think about things, the mission, staying on with us, what your plans are. I can’t thank all of ye enough. Must say, I read Thordrek’s report a dozen times. Great penmanship, and bracing reading. Most have been terrible being there. Try the bisque before it gets cold, by the way. How about my little vanity room? Impressive, eh?” he asks, almost grinning. He walks over to the table and ladles some brown soup into a bowl.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The good doctor sits in silence, hardly touching his food. Ever since he had foresworn his material goods, eating and drinking seemed frivolous. He was nourished by his purpose...purpose, he almost chuckled at the idea. He had thought it was his purpose to haul the Stoneburner into a dwarven temple, to convince a half-mad wizard to gate out the Anvil and detonate the thing. He had long ago taken an oath as a healer, to first do no harm. He often stayed up nights wondering how grossly the Stoneburner had invalidated that Oath. Nalrak couldn't fathom the death toll, but he thought it much greater than the number of people he had saved throughout the years...all because of his dogged work to convince Kaladus to assist them. All because of him. Were these the kind of thoughts the Patriarch wanted to hear?

Nalrak calms himself with the only thought that keeps him from crumbling: despite his actions, his daily prayers were still being answered. The magic of the gods was still choosing him as a conduit, so even blowing the Stoneburner did not seem an entirely unforgivable act. After working so hard toward his own redemption, it had become very difficult for him to believe the words he had memorized from the Scriptures: "There is none outside the Forge's warmth; the hammer of forgiveness can bend us all, though we must first face the flame." Was the Stoneburner simply the fire that was meant to soften up Nalrak's heart so that the gods could sculpt him into a forgiven dwarf? The doctor sighs. He still has a purpose, even if he's unclear as to what it is.

[Grodech]

Grahalmor says little as they are led through to the rectory, although in the The Path of the Pilgrims, he does pause a moment to run his fingers over the holy symbol of Gorm before continuing.

Once in the rectory, Grathalmor takes a bowl of the bisque, but passes on the spider wine. He sits next to his cousin. At one point he nudges Nalrak "Ya still need ta eat. Yer no help ta anyone if yer wasting away from starvation."

When asked about their opinions of what they saw below, he says "Yer right, it was terrible down down there, but da most terrible thing we saw wasn't 'til we returned. Dat stoneburner is a horrible, horrible thing. More power den anyone should ever wield, good, bad or indifferent. If yer plannin ta make or use another one, ya can count me out."

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Nalrak thought for a moment to correct his cousin, but Grath wouldn't understand. Not even the dwarf closest to him could fathom a life free from material possessions. To be honest, sometimes Nalrak wondered what he had gotten himself into; it had only been a matter of days, and already he was questioning the certainty of his path.

"I won't starve, Grath. It's amazing, really, how little the body needs to survive. Even still, I don't want to appear rude," the dwarf mutters as he looks around. Anyway, around these halls austerity seems like a synonym for profanity. With a soft smile, Nalrak nibbles on a chunk of bread. He'd ask some of his more mundane questions, but he'd reserve the existential dilemma for his inner monologue. He did not, however, want to be the one to dampen the mood.

[BelGareth]

Kal moves behind the trail of shorter dwarfs, he stood a little taller than them when he was in his 'speaking' form, he had changed because he thought the king would appreciate it more than his other shapes. He had never met a king before, and he didn't want to displease him, he seemed...somewhat stern to Kal...almost foreign and alienlike...he didn't know what to do, and all this close rock about them made him feel a little claustrophobic, like when he was taken prisoner...

They entered another room and he stared at the book and pen offered to him, taking it, and not wanting to make a scene he pretended to write, trying to imitate the signature above his.

Smiling like a child who just figured out how to finally put his prized toy together he joined the rest in waiting to be led, which wasn't long.

Standing up, he looked at the scarred guard with a toothy grin, which subsequently vanished as he was returned with a growled stair of consternation.

Hanging his head he marched on wards, he tried to think about other things, he watched in awe of all the trophies he passed, almost stumbling into his halfling friend Wyatt, before he realized he was indeed staring. All these amazing things, what did this brave and powerful warrior need with the likes of us, or me? he thought to himself.

Seeing the table set with utensils and the smell of warm foodstuff, Kals stomach began to growl, at the mention of the the bisque he moved over and inhaled a long and deep waft of the soup and smiled in satisfaction, he hurriedly sat down and waited for the food to come.

[Toliudar]

Johannes

The slender dwarf bounced through the halls, taking everything in with an appraising eye, nodding appreciatively. The feather in his hat seems to have been re-foofed, and sproinged up and down playfully as he walked. Johannes kept close to Kal-Resh and Wyatt, figuring those two to be the ones most likely to need an advocate in the conversations ahead.

Johannes is clearly intrigued by both the prospect of eating food prepared by the Patriarch himself, and by a sip of the spiderwine, and he doesn't hold back on either count.

"Majesty, this room is a perfect reflection of its owner. I hope that these mementos bring you both comfort and pleasure. It is both gracious and a further tribute to you that you open yourself to this conversation, and I am of course deeply grateful.

"My first question is, sadly, a rather stereotypically dwarfish one. May I ask how the accounting has proceeded on the dwarven legacy which we collectively carried out of the underdark. Which is to say, and not to put too fine a point on it, how much did we get, and how are you dividing it up?"

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt certainly helped himself to food - something to eat other than trail rations or mushrooms made him happy. "It's an honor bein' here... which is somethin' I don't get to say often. People like me are best neither seen NOR heard."

He sits back a bit, thinking back on things. "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do yet. I'll be honest... when Carmard and crew scooped me up in 'dat cave, I had no clue what you guys were really into. But now 'dat I've slugged it out alongside everybody... I've made some good friends. Lost a few, too..." He sighed and shook his head a bit. "Grath is right, 'dough. 'dat whole stoneburner business was somethin' I couldn't even have fathomed before joining up as a sammikon. This whole mission is way beyond anything I've ever undertaken. I'm just glad to be alive right now. I do owe Carmard and company my life, 'dough... 'dat ain't somethin' I'll ever forget. But doin' somethin' like 'dis again is... it's a little hard to put into words."

[mshady]

Dinner is Served

The Patriarch is using a black knife with a chipped tip to carve a piece of the pork off as Johannes takes a sip of the wine, the first one brave enough to try it. He snickers a bit as Johannes tries to speak at first, but cannot as his tongue and mouth go numb from the wine for a moment. Johannes feels the numbness spread through his body, not paralyzing him really, but making him tingle.

“Good stuff, eh?” he says and laughs.

He turns to look at Kal-resh and eyes him curiously, not judgmental but evaluating him with a careful eye. He smiles slightly, and looks down his own plate with the pork and bread. He shrugs and walks around the table and sets his plate down by Kal-resh and takes the half-orc’s empty plate for himself.

“Not been to many o’dinner party with Kings, eh? First serv’ns on me. Take what ye want, hack off some pig. It’s a big one, plenty to go around. If ye don’t want to use the fork, I won’t mind” he smiles and pats the half orc. “Don’t worry, yer not the first half orc I’ve broken bread with”

Next, he turns his attention to Grathalmor and Nalrak and regards them pensively for a moment as he takes another piece of pork as others are helping themselves. Another juicy shank of meat is slid on to the fresh plate. He snaps up a new loaf of bread, and uses some of the bisque as gravy.

“So, ye two are the Ironfist lads that escorted Carmard? Read some of the notes on ye two, quite a battle record and Nalrak’s a trained surgeon too? Ye’ve been doing good work for us, saved the lives of a lot of good dwarves. Buehler said ye were instrumental in dealing with that mage that repaired the Stoneburner? Kaladus. They’re still look’n for the Anvil, but that wsa some tricky magic he was doing. Not the first Artifact our people’ve lost, but eh? Better that instead o’destroyed. We’re good at find’n things though, ‘ave no fear” he says and pauses before speaking again. He seems to think about saying something, but decides to let it pass for the moment.

Having recovered from the spider wine, Johannes finally manages to address him. The Patriarch has a bemused smile on his face before he sits down. He takes a moment to actually try some of the food he prepared before responding.

“Glad ye liked the decorations. I try to rotate most o’the things in there with what I have in storage. Some other trophies, art work, flowers, paintings of friends… mostly the dead ones nowadays” he says and sighs heavily.

“Of all the things ye could ask me first, when ye get paid is what you come up with first?” he says, his voice going cold and his eyes serious. He takes a deep breath, the room chilling a bit. Instead of a scathing remark though, the Patriarch starts laughing loudly at the question.

“Well, may as well start with the easiest question. Certainly a dwarfish question, isn’t it? Truth is, I nay know exactly and I’m not the treasurer. What passes from one kingdom shall be inherited by the next, so I won’t be sharing it all out amongst ye. I do have a kingdom to run, it be expensive and as ye may have noticed, there’s not much economy up here. We have much to prepare for.

That said, you’ll be well taken care of and there’s plenty to go ‘round too. Some o’the more..practical treasures ye recovered, ye can keep. It will be figured out in the next few days, I’m sure. Valina and Buehler usually handle that kind of thing. In that order. Next question?”

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

When preparing for the meeting, Thordrek had debated what to wear for a while, not actually owning clothing suitable for a meeting with his king. He ended up getting new clothes tailored for the occasion, simple yet high quality pants and a deep blue shirt bearing his clan's symbol in ancient script and the Levtokuld symbol in silver thread. Feeling naked enough without armour, he wore his cloak, rings, belt and component pouch and a dagger/eating knife.

He marvelled at the museum like, well, like a historian in a museum, swearing he would get a few stories out of either Hignar or Valina. When he smelled the roasting pig, his stomach grumbled and after greeting the Patriarch he helped himself to a bit of everything while a few of the others opened the conversation. He even tried a glass of the drow wine (fort save: [roll0]), and while the taste was intriguing he found he couldn't taste anything else for a while, let alone speak clearly and so kept to beer for the rest of the evening. After his mouth came back to normal, he spoke up

Thank you for the food sir, it is excellent, certainly beats dragon steak. Now as to your questions... I believe that the mission itself was fully justified. Tough I weep to think of the historical significance of the place we destroyed, we face an implacable enemy and we had to show it we can hit back at least as hard as it can. Likewise, the size of the blast itself, while awe inspiring, does not concern me so much, power is power, whether expressed in the form of a huge bomb, a millenial dragon or an army. It is the fact that a soul was leashed to the device and destroyed in the explosion that concerns me.

I'm no theologian, unlike yourself or Nalrak, but old Thorbund Whitebeard, my clan's cleric back in Mirabar, used to tell us that it is not for mortals to meddle in the affairs of the gods, and my studies on Karsus' Folly only go to support that lesson. Now obviously Moradin has not withdrawn you His support, therefore I must conclude that the gods at least tolerated Barauk's destruction, but I must wonder how many more of these... acts... will be so tolerated, and that's not even touching the moral side of the question. Also, I didn't even need spells to see that the Stoneburner damaged the Weave, and there will probably be repercussions from the Chosen of Mystra

So that's my take on the mission. As for my plans, a lot of us promised Tasster we'd come along when he reclaims his halls, and aside from that I would very much like to do research for a while. Also, as I mentioned in my report, the armour I brought back has a map of the Delzoun Empire on it, and with any luck we can use it to find an ancient hold. I would love to take part in such an expedition. But first I would like a few months of leave, Johanness mentioned Waterdeep, and I haven't seen my family since before the battle of the Surbin.


Finally, the obvious. The Unnaloyed Church are going to be a problem, that much seems obvious, but how much of a problem? Are they all as hypocritical and fanatic as Glorian's sister? I do hope it won't escalte too much, because I can't see Xurshin holding to the truce if we're stuck in another full-scale war so soon

[mshady]

“I know a good recipe for dragon steak” he says slyly. “Cooked up every one I ever killed. The secret’s lemon juice. Other secret? Black dragons taste like… use your imagination” the Patriarch chuckles to himself, amused at bordering on making a dirty joke. “The pig’s better”


After that, he falls silent and thinks about what he says next. It was going to be important.

“I’m glad ye understood the mission. Certainly the display at Lac Dinneshere put that into perspective. The only thing that kept that dragon and its forces in those mountains was me. The area’s defenseless otherwise. That’s not ego, that’s truth. This place lived in relative peace till I stood up to them. Xurshin would destroy just to spite me. Wipe out all Ten Towns and be back for dinner, whatever that might be for him” he says and shrugs apologetically. “With the Stoneburner, they have another reason to stay in the mountains now, giving me freedom to pursue other goals. I hope that part makes sense, at least. If I were to die, what of these people? The stoneburners are my legacy, because of them. At least some of them” he pauses again.

“You’re no theologian, and Nalrak seems faithful enough but is no theologian. Theology is according to the Gods, not us. Not even me. What I do know is that all the other Gods are like Nalrak. They know what Moradin’s will is. Their versions of theology are what they want Moradin’s will to be. I welcome all to believe as they like, at least now I do, but I know in my heart that we all know nothing, truly. The Gods want us to be like them, and we pick the one most like us. It can make your head spin. When I became the Chosen of Moradin, a surprise to me truly, I glimpsed the will of Moradin.

It is not a complicated will though. There is no theology needed to understand him. It is all a study of mortals putting words into the mouth of Gods. I argue against it, but I argue for it too. Moradin’s will is so simple, it requires theology to give us something to understand what it means. To organize our lives around, a code created by a people who need strictness and tradition. We need none of it truly, yet we require it. Our people are a riddle sometimes, but it is true. I am Patriarch because, as a people, we require a leader to show us that simple will. It is what it is.

What is that will? The will of Moradin is obedience to Moradin, and his children, for our belief in them sustains them. If we forget, it fades. Some they grant power to, to rally more to their cause. The other part is simply to survive, to multiply and be strong so that we can fulfill their first need. So long as we act in a way that improves our race, but ultimately religion is a transaction with power, for power. I represent that power, in this room and this world. None of which is to ever be repeated.

Duervar is probably as good a theologian as Nalrak though, he gets the jist of it. What it all really is, is morality. Morality is the contract we make amongst ourselves about how we wish to live. The Gods aren’t too concerned about that, so long as we do our job here.

So why the lecture? I don’t like the implication of me and Karsus in the same sentence, for one thing. I understand it though. It was also my way of saying that the Gods don’t really give a damn about Bauruk one way or the other, except that he was disobedient and they resent not having the chance to punish him. If his soul was not destroyed, that soul would be on either the wall of the faithless or he would be judged false and suffer an eternity of torment and end up a demon or a devil. One that would probably cause me or my descendants trouble. Denying them the right to judge him? THAT is meddling in the affairs of Gods.

I imagine there is a limit to how many times that can be done, denying the Gods their Right. What Glorian did was… extreme, but I supported it as his fate would have been worse. It also meant that an Arcanii was not required to make the same sacrifice to control a Stoneburner, and I’ll sacrifice a traitor over a loyal Clansmen any day. The fewer the days that choice has to be made though, the better.

Tolrin tells me I’ve already received angry letters from the Chosen of Mystra and my presence has been demanded by the Silver Marches. You can guess the content of the letters, and I even agree, but the Weave has survived worse and I’ve shared tea and travels with many who write me now. The real fear is that we do have power now, and what will we do with it? Will I make demands of my allies and make them my vassals? Of course not! Destroying the Zhentarim, or Thay or the Drow cities though would be just as bad. Better to manage them than the chaos that comes afterwards. That is there real fear.

The only ones that need to fear them truly, are the dragon and the Unalloyed Church. Clan Jilker, the real Clan and not just a few castoffs. They are dangerous because they believe their theology without question. We are all heretics, and now that they know we have established ourselves and can pose a threat, I expect them to act out. Glorian’s sister, my wife? She is a great danger, but not the greatest. Not at all.

With the Unalloyed Church, there is going to be a war. I couldn’t end their heresy and their crimes when I was their King, so Moradin made me his Chosen to unite as many as I can up here against them. Which is as much atonement as an honor, I assure ye. The longer they have to grow into their power, to whip themselves up that we survived, the more dangerous they’ll be. One day, they will come up from below and convert or kill every dwarf hold they can find. That’s my worry” he says and sips a drink after his long monologue.

“Or does anyone think talking to them will work?” he chuckles.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

The Alaghor spent the week repairing his armor, and in his spare time before resting each night he sought out Johannes, Wyatt and Kal to share stories with of past experiences they each had. He felt a special sense of camaraderie with these three, though he couldn't explain that clearly if asked. Oddly, in his early years he had felt a deep sense of dwarven xenophobia, believing the old ways of the dwarven nations were the best of times in his race's history. But later in life he had developed a respect for other races, one that continued to grow the more he was exposed to others. After all, he concluded years ago, race was not the only determining factor in what type a person they were. Sure, race mattered, and was often the primary consideration for many, but it was not the only thing he held as important in determining the value of one's character.

Magnum proudly signed the guest book of his Patriarch and respectfully waited in silence, contemplating again what he would say to Hignar. He returned Valina's smile, uncharacteristically letting it linger under his beard until he realized what a fool he must seem, then grunted and scoffed at himself for showing such personal interest. Passing through the Path of the Pilgrims brought a sense of purpose in sharp focus, and he paused at the representation of Clangeddin to offer a short prayer. The tour brought a sense of pride and wonder to him, being something of an adventurous spirit himself. Having battled sundry creatures in his years of war in the Underdark, he was somewhat familiar with a few of the trophies. He paused now and again to look some of them over meticulously, jogging when needed to catch up.

Inhaling deeply, Magnum relished the aroma of the cooking. He had always valued good meals highly, a true treasure in his mind, and always savored such opportunities to enjoy a well prepared meal. He chuckled softly as the others were dismissed, giving Valina a friendly look as she left. Turning his attention to the food, he shamelessly helped himself to vast amounts of the fantastic fare offered. Though wine never set well with him, he bravely sampled the drow spider wine.

Fort Save [roll0] I'm not sure if that save succeeded. If not, I guess the next words would be slurred and somewhat halting...

"Very impressive indeed, m'lord! It brings ta mind an idea I had one day, dat da Patriarchate oughta have a room ta display such trophies taken in battles dat support it, givin' credit where credit is due."

He gave the Ironfist cousins more than a few inquisitive glances as he ate. As usual, he waited for the others to have their say first, reserving his concerns for last. His first inquiry was answered in part without voicing it; the whereabouts of the great Anvil. He chuckled at the conclusion and said, "Aye, doubtless a mission ta locate such a relic fer da near future eh?"

Magnum fell silent again as the discussion turned to theology, and listened closely to the Chosen of Moradin, his own King. He nodded a few times, showing his basic understanding matched that expressed by Hignar, "Aye, all we can do is serve dat which suites our own beliefs an' hope it offends no God enough ta smite us personally. As fer me, I found my place in such broad concerns long ago, an' it makes me more'n happy ta continue such service."

Magnum paused a moment to collect his thoughts, seeming to conclude confidently, "As ta Prince Tasster, I too would join such a worthy venture, if it be deemed acceptable an' timely. Moreover, ye be right ta hold such concerns about da Unalloyed Church, Majesty. Dey may hear such talk, but dey'll never listen'r understand. So, what's da next move fer us? I mean, more ta da point, where would I best serve da Patriarchate now? I'd like ta join da trip ta Waterdeep as well, if its possible, an' when da business concernin' Prince Tasster is ripe ta solve I'd appreciate da chance ta participate. So I await yer wisdom, yer Majesty."

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Nalrak's heart sinks in his chest at the update that the Anvil had still yet to be recovered. He had long feared that Kaladus had proven Buehler right; if this was the case, there wouldn't be a chance to hear much of an explanation from the old mage when next they met. Orders would be to kill on sight, whether the Anvil had been recovered or not. Nalrak fears the order may come from the Patriarch now, in this silent moment, but he's relieved when the King moves the conversation on to the next topic.

The relief only lasts for a short while, though, as the Patriarch expounds on a worldview that is at once pluralistic and totalitarian. Rather than goodness or grace, the King expounds on power as the primary currency of religion. Nalrak had believed that once--that when ideologies clash the strongest survives. The first time he followed that path, he was chewed to death by a dragon. The second time, they had blown up a holy site and fellow dwarves to scare a few dragons. The Patriarch would have them believe that it was all in the name of the greater good, but it was beginning to sound more and more like it was done in the name of The Patriarch, especially when he started talking about his legacy and coming war.

As the Patriarch begins speaking about the Unalloyed threat, Nalrak sees an inconsistency in the King's worldview. The King says that he welcomes all to believe as they like, but then labels the Unalloyed as heretics, just as Gemma had done in the moments before the Stoneburner erupted. He assures the only way to deal with them is war; this sounds even more fanatical than the Unalloyed Church, which at least prefers conversion as an alternative to violence. A forced choice still wasn't much of a choice at all, but at least it left some room for dialogue. The Patriarch was right though; Nalrak had tried dialogue once, and it had failed. He didn't know if attempting again would be anything but futile, but neither did he think civil war among the dwarves was a suitable plan B. He wants to point out the hypocrisy, but doing so wouldn't change the King's heart. Once he finally speaks, it is with the calm air of someone seeking understanding, rather than the impassioned inflection of one hoping to persuade.

"Your Majesty, my fear is that if we were to engage with the Unalloyed Church that would be the opportunity for Xurshin to mount an effective counterattack. The more irons in the fire, the less attention each one gets. Still, these are just my coppers added to your storehouses of knowledge and experience. I agree that our last diplomatic interaction with them was...less than successful.

This doesn't change the fact that they are part of the race we swear to uphold, and something Buehler said in the Temple still hasn't quite settled. He told us that the Stoneburners were made to eliminate the Unalloyed Church before they attacked us...a pre-emptive strike, if you will. Is that true?"

[mshady]

The Patriatch listens to Nalrak's words and waits a moment before responding.

"Hold on a moment son, a leader of your people just went on about the theology of his kingdom and you, a theologian yourself, have nothing to say about it? Silence has the sound of disagreement. I'm not asking ye to kiss my ring, but lets hear your thoughts. Ye can speak freely"

[Toliudar]

Johannes had listened carefully, and the tingling in his tongue had faded. He thought that he might make an effort to come to Nalrak's aid - if aid the gentle priest in fact required.

"Here, you mean, My Lord. We are encouraged to speak freely here, with all of your other people sent off, with a door ten feet thick sealed off. There are no advisors to the Patriarch to provide their own perspectives, no scribes to record the ideas expressed. You will forgive me, my beloved Patriarch, if I note that this doesn't so much feel like the free of exchange of ideas as a secret debriefing.

"If this free speaking is so important to you, why are we here with you alone? Wouldn't it be more useful for us to open this up to a broader group? That charming Miss Valina? The others who survived the expedition? Why all the secrecy, my liege?"

[Grodech]

I couldn’t end their heresy and their crimes when I was their King, so Moradin made me his Chosen to unite as many as I can up here against them. Which is as much atonement as an honor, I assure ye. The longer they have to grow into their power, to whip themselves up that we survived, the more dangerous they’ll be. One day, they will come up from below and convert or kill every dwarf hold they can find. That’s my worry” he says and sips a drink after his long monologue.

"So yer sayin that Moradin has charged you with destroying them?" Grathalmor asks. "Or with defending others against them?"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist


"Hold on a moment son, a leader of your people just went on about the theology of his kingdom and you, a theologian yourself, have nothing to say about it? Silence has the sound of disagreement. I'm not asking ye to kiss my ring, but lets hear your thoughts. Ye can speak freely"

The good doctor thought he had been diplomatic, reserving his points of discontent. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, Nalrak silently supposed. He thought for a brief moment about how best to answer the Patriarch. He decided that while open defiance may upset the Patriarch, open-ended questions may not.

"Highness?" he chose to answer with a question. "I thought a request for silence was implied. You yourself stated that I was 'faithful enough, but no theologian'--and I agree, as my primary training is medical, not scholarly. You also said 'Theology is according to the Gods, not us.' Again, I concur. There is nothing we can truly know apart from what Gods make known. Since you ask my opinion now, I'll gladly share it.

Do you view morality and faith as synonyms?" Nalrak waits for the Patriarch's answer before continuing: "I agree that morality is a social construct, a list of 'dos' and 'donts' we write for ourselves to ensure that we are good dwarves and can sleep soundly at night. But faith? Faith is the overflow of belief into every facet of life, a declaration through every breath that Moradin's will shall be done. It's a tough row to hoe, and I often don't know what Moradin's will is, but I trust him and the other Gods through it all. Sometimes the Gods make their will plain, but other times they only give us the marble to chisel.

It's an honor to hear you expound Moradin's will so simply--my silence is not because I disagree, but because I am reflecting and absorbing it. You say that the race must survive--that his children must multiply--and again I agree. Not to stir the pot too much, but I do ask a theological question: who are Moradin's children?"

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Wyatt

With the sudden burst of questions, the Patriarch takes it all in and smiles. He holds up a hand and motions for everyone to quiet down for a moment.
“Let’s hold on a moment, Nalrak, I’ll get back to ye in a moment” he says and smiles, gracefully deflecting.

“Now Wyatt, I hear you acquitted yerself quite well since your rescue. We can always use a good scout. When I traveled independently, was always with a good scout and a good mage. So a good scout will always have a good job with us. In fact, have a few errands to do and could use a good scout if yer interested.

I know ye got dragged into some business ye may not have wanted a part in. Sort of fell into things, eh? I’m sure ye helped us out enough that the balance is more in yer favor instead of ours and ye will be compensated accordingly. Hard to fathom what those things can do. I barely can myself. I hope ye don’t have to do it again, and nothing we’ve ever undertaken before either, but I also hope ye saw the good it had done. Peace through strength sometimes. Only thing that dragon understands, I assure ye” he says, his voice grim. “That all being said, do you plan to continue on with us or are you and yer crew moving on? Think it over...”

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Johannes

"Johannes, is it? There is no secrecy intended here, only privacy. I have my advisors, and I've heard their advice. I don't need their advice constantly. They'd advise me not to speak to you at all, and you really wouldn't like Buehler's advice, which is often in the form of black humor. The parallels to something similar would be lost to ye" he says with some irritation. "I certainly don't need them to provide perspective, whatever that is."

He pauses for a drink, and continues.

"We can speak freely here, because you saw things I've tried to keep hidden. Since that kobold's out of the bag with some of you, I figured there is nothing to be lost with telling ye the rest. Better ye understand things instead of wonder and fill in the blanks. It is a secret debriefing too, because I don't like to rely on advisors and reports. I want to hear a tale from the tellers, and I made dinner. No one else need be here, because some lived it with me and the others don't need to know yet. What they need to know is their Patriarch wielded powerful magic and finally brought the dragon to heel, because our people need to see a strong King. Certainly I don't want to frighten people or confuse them, and I especially don't want them to know that their leader used to be the leader of their Enemy. Certainly I'd rather live awhile longer without the shame of it.

So, I figured ye would be a good group for a.. trial run, so they say?"

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Grathalmor


"So yer sayin that Moradin has charged you with destroying them?" Grathalmor asks. "Or with defending others against them?"

"Well Grathalmor, I ask ye to bear in mind that much of what Buehler said and did at times during your mission was because he either suspected or knew ye were being observed.

That much is true though, the Stoneburners were rebuilt from ancient plans. I assure ye, they are far less powerful then before Karsus' Folly. The Great Rift was created by just a few of them, wiping out a drow civilization.

I am hoping that the Stoneburner has the safe impact on them as it did the dragon... but I doubt it. Yes, they are dwarves physically but a dwarven soul appears lost to them. Tis why Moradin HAS denied them succor, why their mages are actually their clerics to keep that illusion going. They're quite dangerous, fanatical even and racists, but that's a good thing after a fashion. They could care less about other races, just their own. It's why Buehler had Sable turn him over.

Unfortunately, the best way to defend others against them is probably going to be destroying them. The last time anyone tried to show them the right way, they killed the scouts that brought holy books from the surface and Gemma tried to kill me for my enlightenment. I used to rule them, and there is nay much choice in the matter. I'm not going to live in denial of that fact until they make a Stoneburner and blow it up under my feet"

[Gryndel]

Politics and diplomacy were certainly not in the field of Magnum's expertise. In fact, contemplating them often gave him a headache much worse than the most severe blows to the helmet he had ever suffered in battle. Still, he tried to keep up when such concerns got tangled up in what battles were to be fought to defend his way of life and that of his kin and ken.

Leadership required a basic understanding of these traits, and all Sum Alaghor's were expected to be good leaders in battle, indeed commanders in most cases. Magnum himself had been offered such a position, to command a battalion of the Forgemark, but deferred this honor to one he considered a higher calling; to accompany Prince Tolrin Jilker on his travels as Ambassador of the Patriarchate.

A furrowed brow and nearly subsonic growl indicated the discomfort Magnum experienced while thinking about the diplomacy and politics being discussed. These seemed to be an inherent part of any theological discussion where religious minded dwarves who were loyal to the Patriarchate were concerned.

As the discussion ensued, an idea struck Magnum like a hammer ringing on the anvil. Since such an audience was rare, instead of waiting for Hignar to address his previous speech, he boldly proposed the new idea immediately, "M'lord, if ye'd sponsor da idea, I'd be more'n willin' ta accompany an ambassador ta my home Ironmaster ta propose an official alliance. Also, since I fought fer years in defense of Alagh Rorncaurak, perhaps an alliance wid Earthfast is possible in da near future as well? No diplomat am I, Majesty, but certainly some under yer fine patronage be just dat. Perhaps Prince Tolrin, or even Johannes, could persuade em ta join an alliance? I'd ask ta include all here as well, if'n dey be willin'. O'course, whatever ye believe be da best use o'my talents be well considered."

[mshady]

Nalrak Ironfist



The good doctor thought he had been diplomatic, reserving his points of discontent. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, Nalrak silently supposed. He thought for a brief moment about how best to answer the Patriarch. He decided that while open defiance may upset the Patriarch, open-ended questions may not.

"Highness?" he chose to answer with a question. "I thought a request for silence was implied. You yourself stated that I was 'faithful enough, but no theologian'--and I agree, as my primary training is medical, not scholarly. You also said 'Theology is according to the Gods, not us.' Again, I concur. There is nothing we can truly know apart from what Gods make known. Since you ask my opinion now, I'll gladly share it.

Do you view morality and faith as synonyms?" Nalrak waits for the Patriarch's answer before continuing: "I agree that morality is a social construct, a list of 'dos' and 'donts' we write for ourselves to ensure that we are good dwarves and can sleep soundly at night. But faith? Faith is the overflow of belief into every facet of life, a declaration through every breath that Moradin's will shall be done. It's a tough row to hoe, and I often don't know what Moradin's will is, but I trust him and the other Gods through it all. Sometimes the Gods make their will plain, but other times they only give us the marble to chisel.

It's an honor to hear you expound Moradin's will so simply--my silence is not because I disagree, but because I am reflecting and absorbing it. You say that the race must survive--that his children must multiply--and again I agree. Not to stir the pot too much, but I do ask a theological question: who are Moradin's children?"

The Patriarch to Nalrak

"Now Nalrak..." he says and smiles, taking a moment to lace his stubby fingers together and push them forward to stretch. "Ye have a way with words, I'll give ye that. If I ever have need of a second Ambassador, I think I know who I'll ask. Do ye know why I took the title of Patriarch? Heedy historic significance aside, it means Father, and having been tapped by our Father to represent his people and religion, I'm glad to hear someone thinking through their faith.

Faith is trust in the will of the Gods, that there is a plan, but it is also blind obedience. Faith is trusting in somethin' ye cannot understand or verify, but you trust that a higher power has yer interests at heart. That there is something greater then ye to live and strive for. When ye seek to understand the incomprehensible though, ye are just filling in the holes with yer own view. That is what the Gods of our Pantheon did to understand their father and find a place, and that view is what ye inherited as yer religion and faith.

Faith is just belief, religion provides a frame work for morality according to the values of who ye worship. There are many choices in the Realms, and I reckon I've met a cleric of nearly every faith. For many of our people, religion provides the framework for their morality. How to live, wed, multiply and die. If we follow that, we may have a place in an afterlife provided by the God or Goddess you follow. Morality is not easily cleaved from faith or religion. It is what is left over, it is how we interpret those guides and decide what is right and wrong, how we live together. What do we consider the right way to follow those guidelines.

As for who are Moradin's children? More than simply the dwarves but certainly not widespread outside of the dwarves. Beyond that, as a cleric of Dumathion, the Keeper of Secrets, I would expect you would know our pantheon"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

The Patriarch's explanation of the will of Moradin makes sense to Thordrek. It was all a matter of perspective, to Duervar mortals were cattle, but to him it was more of a symbiotic relationship. Knowing that the Patriarch disliked what was involved in making Stoneburners also reassured him.

Well, there is proof enough for anyone that cares to look that the Patriarchate has the gods' favour, and it is relatively common knowledge among the troops that you and the other Jilkers came from a dwarven city in the Underdark, tough most think you're survivors of some calamity rather then the deposed leaders of that city. When we faced your ex, what she told us meshed rather well with the limited information you made public. In the end we ended up not believing her mainly because her actions disproved her words, but a more skilled diplomat may have swayed us, and certainly would sway common soldiers.



Here, Thordrek realizes he may be speaking out of bounds, but the Patriarch had mentioned he wanted them to speak freely so he continues, besides, he could hardly cause more offence then Johanness


It seems a given that given a prolonged conflict, they will try to turn our troops, and may have already begun turning the clanholds of the north against us. So, it seems to me there is no other choice then to reveal, if not the entire story, at least a more complete one then what is already out there. Allied and neutral leaders should also be informed of the situation, it may loose us the support of some, but at least they won't join our enemy.

Other then that, I would suggest building goodwill with neighbouring nations, everyone has a few dragons causing trouble or some other problem, and solving those problems as a gesture of friendship certainly wouldn't hurt our standing with them.

Finally, and I realize this is a very.... contentious issue, but I think that you should consider recognizing Obould as a legitimate leader and his kingdom as a sovereign nation. We're never going to outbreed the orcs and no amount of thunder twins will change that. Many-Arrows probably won't survive it's king but it seems to me that the possibility that it will is worth the gamble.


((There were a few posts while I was writing that, it's a response to the Patriarch musing about what to tell his troops))

[mshady]

As the discussion ensued, an idea struck Magnum like a hammer ringing on the anvil. Since such an audience was rare, instead of waiting for Hignar to address his previous speech, he boldly proposed the new idea immediately, "M'lord, if ye'd sponsor da idea, I'd be more'n willin' ta accompany an ambassador ta my home Ironmaster ta propose an official alliance. Also, since I fought fer years in defense of Alagh Rorncaurak, perhaps an alliance wid Earthfast is possible in da near future as well? No diplomat am I, Majesty, but certainly some under yer fine patronage be just dat. Perhaps Prince Tolrin, or even Johannes, could persuade em ta join an alliance? I'd ask ta include all here as well, if'n dey be willin'. O'course, whatever ye believe be da best use o'my talents be well considered."

The Patriarch to Magnum

"An alliance with Ironmaster would be a boon, and certainly if I were to ever relocate, they would be the natural successors here. An Underdark passage between here and there probably exists, such Underdark highways are common between the Old Kingdoms, but it is also common for them to be lost. Access to the sea, and their iron, would be... an immense boon. Mining is limited, and tough here. I know what we need, but what they would need of us? I'd like to hear yer thoughts, hav'n lived there. What do we have to offer them?

As for Earthfast, that tis a far place. Again, we could ally with them but what do we have to offer them to do that? What do they need there, Sum Alaghor?"

[mshady]

Thordrek

The Patriarch's explanation of the will of Moradin makes sense to Thordrek. It was all a matter of perspective, to Duervar mortals were cattle, but to him it was more of a symbiotic relationship. Knowing that the Patriarch disliked what was involved in making Stoneburners also reassured him.

Well, there is proof enough for anyone that cares to look that the Patriarchate has the gods' favour, and it is relatively common knowledge among the troops that you and the other Jilkers came from a dwarven city in the Underdark, tough most think you're survivors of some calamity rather then the deposed leaders of that city. When we faced your ex, what she told us meshed rather well with the limited information you made public. In the end we ended up not believing her mainly because her actions disproved her words, but a more skilled diplomat may have swayed us, and certainly would sway common soldiers.



Here, Thordrek realizes he may be speaking out of bounds, but the Patriarch had mentioned he wanted them to speak freely so he continues, besides, he could hardly cause more offence then Johanness


It seems a given that given a prolonged conflict, they will try to turn our troops, and may have already begun turning the clanholds of the north against us. So, it seems to me there is no other choice then to reveal, if not the entire story, at least a more complete one then what is already out there. Allied and neutral leaders should also be informed of the situation, it may loose us the support of some, but at least they won't join our enemy.

Other then that, I would suggest building goodwill with neighbouring nations, everyone has a few dragons causing trouble or some other problem, and solving those problems as a gesture of friendship certainly wouldn't hurt our standing with them.

Finally, and I realize this is a very.... contentious issue, but I think that you should consider recognizing Obould as a legitimate leader and his kingdom as a sovereign nation. We're never going to outbreed the orcs and no amount of thunder twins will change that. Many-Arrows probably won't survive it's king but it seems to me that the possibility that it will is worth the gamble.

The Patriarch to Thordrek

"Yes, ye outline some of my concerns. The truth is, Gemma is a very skilled diplomat when she has time. Time she did not have, though. She's as devious as they come. Proof of that is that I'm sitting here having dinner with ye and my arse is not on a different throne. Perhaps my greatest fault was trusting my wife, but it was never a marriage for love but one arranged by my father and her mother. Of course she would trade up from that, first chance she got. I see now what I never saw before. Of course, I also thought my theology dictated that slavery of my own kind was justified too. A lot has changed in my perspective, and I'm wiser now.

What they may be up to on the surface, what their words have done or could do, keeps me up at night sometimes. I agree about trying to go out and solve the problems for a few allies to earn a little gratitude, way ahead of ye there. That we have these Halls at all is partly to thank for embracing that" he stops and pauses, setting down his cigar in a slow and dignified manner.

"As for Obould... I will NOT be recognizing that orc's kingdom. They may have a knife to Bruenor's throat, but they don't to me" he says, and slams a meaty fist on the table. Drinks slosh from the impact, and it startles everyone.

"The Kingdom of Many Arrows is unlikely to survive Obould, if I know my orcs. I'll be happy to hasten that. The first letter I sent out after the dragon's agreed was to Bruenor. We have the perfect solution to THAT particular problem now" the Patriarch says darkly.

"I will suffer not an orc to live. Anything less, would bring shame upon my ancestors. King Bruenor is welcome to a temporary reprieve if he can get it, but I fought at the Subrin Crossing just like ye. They have to be taken care of sometime. Sometime soon"

[Gryndel]

"An alliance with Ironmaster would be a boon, and certainly if I were to ever relocate, they would be the natural successors here. An Underdark passage between here and there probably exists, such Underdark highways are common between the Old Kingdoms, but it is also common for them to be lost. Access to the sea, and their iron, would be... an immense boon. Mining is limited, and tough here. I know what we need, but what they would need of us? I'd like to hear yer thoughts, hav'n lived there. What do we have to offer them?

As for Earthfast, that tis a far place. Again, we could ally with them but what do we have to offer them to do that? What do they need there, Sum Alaghor?"

An immediate response to part of the conversation came as quick as a bullet from the new guns he'd recently seen in use, "Aye, such routes do indeed exist, been many years fer me, but a dwarf rarely forgets where his feet tread more'n once. I've escorted many trade missions an' unwanted visitors from my home ta Hundlestone, or at least da tunnel nearby. Doubtless, as is common in da Underdark, changes 'ave occurred. But I hold few doubts dat given da right members, a party could make da trip relatively quickly."

Magnum glanced meaningfully around at the others here, by so doing including them implicitly in this. He stroked his beard a moment, bushy brows furrowed in deep thought to ponder the remainder of what he was asked. With a shrug he finally replied, "As ta what dey need, in Ironmaster or Earthfast, its been too long since I've been ta eider place ta know fer sure. My home always traded iron fer much o'da food, timber, an' sundry goods needed fer a good life in such a harsh place. Not knowin' da resources ye 'ave available, it'd be pure speculation fer me ta say what exactly ye might offer in trade. Perhaps dat'd be a good ploy, ta offer such in negotiation on what's needed an' what ye could provide in fair trade? Perhaps introducin' dat bangin' loud missile contraption I've seen recently? O'course, ye know how stubborn some dwarves can be, especially ta any new ideas. But it be possible some might see da value an' potential use o'dat weapon."

A half grin crossed his face as he concluded, "In fact, I've been ponderin' da possibility o'learnin' da detail o'dem guns myself, possibly obtainin' a few fer my own use in battle. Been prayin' on it an' got no answer, usually meanin' da answer ain't no." He chuckled at this last part, given the recent discussion of faith and religion.

"Any consideration o'returnin' where da Stoneburner was set off ta see what remains in dat place?"

[Strangie]

Wyatt


The Patriarch to Wyatt

With the sudden burst of questions, the Patriarch takes it all in and smiles. He holds up a hand and motions for everyone to quiet down for a moment.
“Let’s hold on a moment, Nalrak, I’ll get back to ye in a moment” he says and smiles, gracefully deflecting.

“Now Wyatt, I hear you acquitted yerself quite well since your rescue. We can always use a good scout. When I traveled independently, was always with a good scout and a good mage. So a good scout will always have a good job with us. In fact, have a few errands to do and could use a good scout if yer interested.

I know ye got dragged into some business ye may not have wanted a part in. Sort of fell into things, eh? I’m sure ye helped us out enough that the balance is more in yer favor instead of ours and ye will be compensated accordingly. Hard to fathom what those things can do. I barely can myself. I hope ye don’t have to do it again, and nothing we’ve ever undertaken before either, but I also hope ye saw the good it had done. Peace through strength sometimes. Only thing that dragon understands, I assure ye” he says, his voice grim. “That all being said, do you plan to continue on with us or are you and yer crew moving on? Think it over...”


"Well... you got work need doin' and, judgin' by 'dis room we're in, quite a bit of gold to throw around... and bein' what you are, 'dat's hard to turn down. I'm not sure if the rest of my crew might be willing... we lost a buncha guys before we got snagged. I gotta few things of my own 'dat needs doin'.... like figurin' out what happened to Sable. Tolrin told me 'dat Buehler told 'em she's dead, but after I heard about what happened after we hit the river, I want to find out what really happened. I trust Tolrin, but Buehler... ... well, the jury's still out on 'dat one."

He shook his head a bit, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pondering... "It'd take a good deal offa my mind if you could find out what happened to Sable. Not sure if you could, and maybe I'll never really know unless I ask Buehler and 'dat's not really somethin' I want to do to be honest, but sometimes things just ain't 'dat easy... I'll definitely consider your offer for work, 'dough, one way or another."

He turns and gestures at Magnum and the others, with a smile. "And any chance I get to work with 'dese folks again, I'll be lookin' forward to 'dat. I owe 'em 'dat much."

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Magnum

He shakes his head at Magnum's suggestion.

"Return'n to the site of the Stoneburner would violate the armistice I just got a week ago. We'll hear about, others will see it, but we can't.

As for Ironmaster and Earthfast... ye mentioned wanting guns. Ye think they'd want them too?"

[Gryndel]

The Patriarch to Magnum

He shakes his head at Magnum's suggestion.

"Return'n to the site of the Stoneburner would violate the armistice I just got a week ago. We'll hear about, others will see it, but we can't.

As for Ironmaster and Earthfast... ye mentioned wanting guns. Ye think they'd want them too?"

Magnum chuckled softly as he replied with a shrug, "Its worth a shot."

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Johannes has been thunderstruck by the Patriarch's revelation that he had once been...He settles back in his chair, passing his hat back and forth from hand to hand, his head down, deep in thought.

The flow of theological conversations and diplomatic wrangling passes him by for the time being. As a moment of stillness comes to the room, he bends forward onto a knee, dipping his head. Whereas before there was suspicion and a strange lightness to his tone, his voice was now heavy with genuine concern.

"My Lord, I am so sorry. I have misjudged you and your motives. Please forgive my disrespect.

"But...if it is not impertinent to ask - what is the story of your break with the, ah, heretics? Would you describe it as a change in them, or in yourself?"

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

The half duergar had been quietly thinking for a long time. While he'd made a few wry comments here and there before and after the the summit, most of the time he'd been running without thinking. He was focused far more on what he should do now. When the Patriarch offered the meeting, it was Duervar's first moment of clarity. It offered a chance for him to try and piece together his thoughts and his world.

The time between the summit and the meeting went by slowly. Duervar joined back up with the Forgemarked, keeping himself occupied with the vast amount of work to be done after this operation. It allowed him to pass the time until he would be able to talk with the Patriarch personally.

The museum nominally impressed Duervar, but he had heard many of these stories when he had been following the Patriarch early on. He'd been with them from the beginning after all, and while he hadn't participated, he knew of many of these adventures. Campfire and drinking tales, all of them.

After the treasures from his adventures, the Patriarch himself seems almost mundane. Especially in such casual clothing, cooking such a casual meal. It reminded Duervar again that despite everything, he was still just a dwarf. Powerful, influential, chosen by Moradin to represent him to the world, but a dwarf nonetheless. That wine on the other hand... Duervar avoided it aside from a single sip, not enjoying the numbing experience. It felt too comfortable somehow.

The conversation was interesting to listen to, though Duervar was surprised when he was singled out as a theologian alongside Nalrak. That was an unexpected comment, though from how he described it, Duervar could see what he meant. Still though, they hadn't really gotten to any topic that was helping him work out his problems. While he felt expressly uncomfortable speaking up, he was going to have to if he wanted to clear his mind.

It turns out it's really difficult to question someone who you look up to so much, even if you don't truly agree with or understand them.

Duervar clears his throat when there's a quiet moment in discussion and the current issues have been settled to some degree. Then he realizes he has no idea how to start this. "I... thank you for having this conversation." He fidgets slightly. "It has been a long time since I've had a chance to sit down and properly clear my head. Everything that happened on that mission, from the nature of the Stoneburner to the arrival of the Unalloyed," his voice almost drops to a growl at their mention, but returns to normal as he carries on, "has been weighing on me. I've followed you loyally since you saved me, carried my broken body away from them." He rubs at his eyes for a moment.

"But it's been gnawing at me all this time. I don't fit. Not just because of my heritage, but because I don't believe. It makes no sense, one of the original of the Patriarchy, who exited the Underdark with the Patriarch himself and followed him on his journey, doesn't believe. I've questioned and challenged many over the years, but I've never questioned you. And maybe I should have." For the first time in this, Duervar makes constant, focused eye contact with the Patriarch. TO BE ADDED IN, MY INITIAL ONE WAS ANSWERED ALREADY.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek


I figured as much.... Well if you need word sent to Mirabar, it might be better received coming from a local lad, I'm sure the Thanes have gotten over us leaving the town by now. I doubt the clockwork soldiers will try to make peace with them, but they're probably in almost as much danger as we are

[BelGareth]

Kal gladly accepted the plate and began the busy work of filling his growling stomach with food.

He listened to the talk, but didn't understand much of it, and so he took to the food with a ferocity of an animal, which, wasn't far of Kal's appearance at all.

He stood up, having run out of ale and looked for a drink, seeing the Spider wine his eyes grew big and he grabbed it by the neck about to upturn it down his throat. He thought better of it at the last moment and found a goblet to fill, letting the wine splash at the edges, he grabbed it and chugged deeply, taking over half the goblet in the first drink.

His eyes narrowed and he shrugged "Will have to do." he said simply.


Venom immunity


He goes to the cooked pig and begins to tear off some more hunks, careful to take some crackling, the tongue, snout, and a foot.

He sat down and started working on the foot knuckle, sucking out the flesh and the cartilage noisily.

"I have no where to go, and will gladly join Johannes, Magnum and Wyatt anywhere," he says to no one in particular, *slurp* "and these dwarves that have no souls?" he continues *Slechp* "it sounds like some animals in the forest, they would lose themselves, go beyond their means, much like umans, the All father would have them put out of their misery, he called it 'Culling the herd'." *Slerup* he grabs the tongue and bites a hunk out of it "Soundsh to me, likesh thatsh kinda the shame thing going onsh here, needsh to cull the herd sho to speak" as offhandedly and innocent as any one could say.

He looks around to everyone and drinks some more wine, "Thish ish some great food yer Majeshty!" he says, grinning like the innocent fool he is.

[mshady]

Magnum chuckled softly as he replied with a shrug, "Its worth a shot."

The Patriarch to Magnum

"Worth a shot. Good one!" Hignar says, provoking a belly laugh. It takes him a moment to stop.

"Tell me of Earthfast. Are there a lot of dwarves there with crippling injuries? Lost a limb? Have an idea. Back in the day, I used to go around to villages or to a siege and tend to the wounded. Regenerated some lost limbs. Raise a couple of heroes from the grave, that kind of thing. That places has been in a constant fight for many years now. Maybe Nalrak and I can go down there, see to some of their veterans. I could leave one of the Knightingales down there too, maybe teach them some real medicine? Maybe lay some walls somewhere critical? I've been all over, but never there oddly enough, and I spent some time near Cormyr even if I way away during the Tuigan Horde thing that came through. What say ye? What say ye both?" the Patriarch asks.

[Gryndel]

The Patriarch to Magnum

"Worth a shot. Good one!" Hignar says, provoking a belly laugh. It takes him a moment to stop.

"Tell me of Earthfast. Are there a lot of dwarves there with crippling injuries? Lost a limb? Have an idea. Back in the day, I used to go around to villages or to a siege and tend to the wounded. Regenerated some lost limbs. Raise a couple of heroes from the grave, that kind of thing. That places has been in a constant fight for many years now. Maybe Nalrak and I can go down there, see to some of their veterans. I could leave one of the Knightingales down there too, maybe teach them some real medicine? Maybe lay some walls somewhere critical? I've been all over, but never there oddly enough, and I spent some time near Cormyr even if I way away during the Tuigan Horde thing that came through. What say ye? What say ye both?" the Patriarch asks.

While he was aware of the joke, it didn't seem all that funny to Magnum. Still, laughter was contagious and he soon joined in for a few chuckles of his own.

In response the Alaghor thought a moment, recalling what he could from the years he spent there, "Aye, I seem ta recall such calamities bein' a common casualty o'war. Oughta be a grand way ta start da process o'healin, not only da wounds dey suffer but da rifts ye intend ta mend between our societies. It'd be a true honor ta join ye, not dat I'm invitin' myself along mind ye, cuz I'd likely end up on da front lines again an' get lost in da war. While dat's not a bad idea ta me, ye may well have wiser plans I can help accomplish wid my new friends here."

[Grodech]

Duervar
"Why does Moradin still support their clerics? Or is that all a lie, and they've been faking it somehow?"

OOC: I just wanted to point out to shaddy that this had already been answered...


The Patriarch to Grathalmor
"Yes, they are dwarves physically but a dwarven soul appears lost to them. Tis why Moradin HAS denied them succor, why their mages are actually their clerics to keep that illusion going. "

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Ambassador? Did the Patriarch honestly just say that? For a moment, Nalrak is puffed up with pride. He quells the sensation; that was something that appealed to his old self--the self that trusted every word from the Patriarch, the self willing to die or be killed for the cause. Now? Now he'd still die to protect the life of another, but he wasn't sure anymore about the killing. They had done enough of it with that Stoneburner for a lifetime, maybe more. Nalrak sits in stunned silence (or is it internal confusion?) as the Patriarch continues speaking to the others.

As the Patriarch speaks, Nalrak finds plenty of things worthy of further philosophical conversation, particularly the difference between deep-seated faith and simple belief...another conversation for another time, though. The patriarch views all dwarves on the same path as the lesser gods of the Pantheon, all attempting to understand and enact the will of Moradin. However, in this view Moradin seemed like a distant, detached king rather than the caring creator he had come to follow. Strangely, it helped the pieces fall into place. The Patriarch's Moradin would probably be okay with a calculated decision that blowing up lost dwarves was a necessary cost in the name of some abstract Greater Good. In Nalrak's mind, it still lacked the personal care for each of his children--even the black sheep--that Moradin radiated. Still, it helped him understand where the Patriarch was coming from. For a second, their mission was justified. Then, Nalrak's mind was filled once more with the image of the Stoneburner's explosion and the gut-wrenching sensation of the earth groaning from the wound. Try as he might, nothing can make that seem right for very long.


As for who are Moradin's children? More than simply the dwarves but certainly not widespread outside of the dwarves. Beyond that, as a cleric of Dumathion, the Keeper of Secrets, I would expect you would know our pantheon"

This answer finally elicits comment from Nalrak; the Patriarch had bitten hook, line, and sinker. "Of course, Majesty. The question was less about the gods and more about the mortals. As dwarves, the Unalloyed were at one point children of Moradin. Even with their close-mindedness, the Scriptures show me a Father of the Forge who is loathe to disown any of his progeny. Discipline gently but firmly to correct, aye. It leaves me wondering if the Unalloyed are the black sheep of the family, not in need of decimation, but discipline. Still, you know the Father's will better than any of us." Nalrak tries to speak as gently as possible, not looking to stir dissent but instead plant the seed of an idea. While he wasn't thrilled about any further violence (especially against fellow dwarves), if he could rein in the Patriarch from full-scale war to a tactical strike, it would be a minor victory. Granted, there was no way to control how the Unalloyed Church would react.


"My Lord, I am so sorry. I have misjudged you and your motives. Please forgive my disrespect.

"But...if it is not impertinent to ask - what is the story of your break with the, ah, heretics? Would you describe it as a change in them, or in yourself?"

Nalrak was also interested to hear the tale. In treating wounds, he had long ago learned that finding out what had caused a wound goes a long way toward treating it properly. Without that, one might be treating a symptom just to leave the cause to flare up again. What had driven such a large wedge between the King and the Unalloyed? Given his view that others are free to believe as they see fit, Nalrak could understand idealogical differences. However, given the King's connections with other powerful dwarves, it could have also been something a bit more personal and deep-seated.


"Tell me of Earthfast. Are there a lot of dwarves there with crippling injuries? Lost a limb? Have an idea. Back in the day, I used to go around to villages or to a siege and tend to the wounded. Regenerated some lost limbs. Raise a couple of heroes from the grave, that kind of thing. That places has been in a constant fight for many years now. Maybe Nalrak and I can go down there, see to some of their veterans. I could leave one of the Knightingales down there too, maybe teach them some real medicine? Maybe lay some walls somewhere critical? I've been all over, but never there oddly enough, and I spent some time near Cormyr even if I way away during the Tuigan Horde thing that came through. What say ye? What say ye both?" the Patriarch asks.

"Aye, majesty," Nalrak says with a nod. "As a citizen of the Patriarchate, my duty is to serve my fellow dwarves at your behest. As a surgeon and follower of the Gods, my duty is likewise. I'm happy to bring healing and hope to our kin wherever possible, and it would be an honor to serve alongside you. Give me a chance to see regenerative magic at work as well--I might pick up a few new skills."

Nalrak ponders the ability to help dwarves regrow lost limbs. He thinks back to the destroyed fingers and toes that he's had to remove due to frostbite or explosions, the arms and legs that didn't have enough flesh and bone left to be worth keeping, the visceral gore of hurting a dwarf in order to help him. On a spiritual level, it was true for everyone that war claimed a piece of you, but for some it was a physical truth as well. If he could instead make his brothers whole again...It seems a blessed thought.

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Duervar

“Well Duervar, I understand why ye might feel out of place or that you might find it hard to have faith. Clearly ye recognize the God’s exists, yes? I know recognizing that existence and faith are two different things, of course. How can ye have faith in Moradin, when ye were condemned for yer nature, sold as a slave, whipped and nearly worked to death in His name? That is why no one has condemned you for your beliefs, not us, but we always knew ye would have a hard time going elsewhere. Other Clans would not take ye in, thinking like that. They would nay understand. We all share a great bond coming from the recognition of that wrongness, and we all have a complicated relationship to our Gods. Even I did, until I became a Chosen of Moradin and gained a better understanding.

However wrong they were in their beliefs, we both know that their beliefs are just a magnified, extreme view. How ye could keep our company, or trust another dwarf after all that, amazes me. For quite awhile, we all wondered if ye would try to kill me like the ‘priest’ in the mine. Everything they did to you was in my name, with my consent at the time. It was not until the very end I realize how profoundly, tragically, wrong we all were. I wished ye had asked me before, but I respected ye and while I knew of your conflictions, I figured ye would bring it up when ye were ready. Suffice it to say, ye are as much part of my family now as the others in a sense. More then ye know or suspected even. I too am part Duergar, albeit not visibly so. My grandsire, during the rule of Thurgar Jilker, was a Duergar mercenary, who did the deed in secret due to Thurgar’s inability to do so, for reasons we shall… discuss. It is not something I feel shame over, but it is not something I tell any but those I trust completely, for others may hold me in disfavor for it.”

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Nalrak

"I understand why others think the actions of the Unalloyed Church could be dealt with admonishment. A full scale war is coming, in all likelihood. Either they strike first, or I’ll be forced to before they become too strong. The entirety of our forces have been organized and trained to fight them, and yes the Stoneburners were recreated from old times to wipe out my own Clan, the old one.

Before I answer yer question though, Nalrak, I understand ye have done some drastic things lately. Ye have take a Vow of Poverty? I’d like to hear yer reasons for doing so. Usually such things are done as an act of Atonement or to pay a perceived debt. What have ye done to prompt such a thing?”

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Not wanting to disrupt any continuous conversation, the war priest waited for a pause while consuming more pork. He had inexplicably started tossing bones and gristle and such to Kal with a grin each time, not in a gesture of disposal but rather one of sharing out favorite bits to a friend.

When it seemed the appropriate time to him, Magnum stared down the elephant in the room. He faced it boldly like he would any potential combatant, and verbally attacked it with the fervor and bravery of a Sum Alaghor. Stripping away even the title of their host, he used the first name of their leader purposely, "So Hignar Jilker, nobody's asked yet, but I need ta know. What can ye tell us about why ye were once da King of da extremists, who now claim ta be our enemy? Why did ye change yer mind about bein da leader of da Unalloyed Church an' da folk who believe such ridiculous dogma? What happened ta motivate dat change? How did ye come ta be da Chosen o'Moradin, an' da Patriarch o'dis clan?"

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Magnum asked the question that had been filling Johannes mind, so he simply reached for a refill of the spiderwine and took in the conversation's flow around him.

[shaddy_24]

Duervar

Duervar holds the Patriarch's gaze as he answers. From the way his shoulders relaxed, it's obvious to anyone watching that the Patriarch's words did calm his mind, at least a little. "I suppose it was because I was simply so relieved to be alive. I clung to the first person to treat me with any sort of respect, even knowing your history. I've always wondered why you took me in, a half dead, half-breed slave. I've always thought that Buehler was against it, given his personality and certain... things he's said to and around me. Nothing really direct, but it's there."

Duervar decides to wait for a moment before asking any questions. He wants to hear the full story of the Patriarch's decision to turn on his former people and flee to the surface.

[mshady]

The Patriarch to Duervar

"Buehler had a hard time trusting ye, on account o'how he worried ye would try to kill me. Wearing the symbols of the priest ye killed made him a little nervous around a crown. Ye had a lot of rage, and why wouldn't ye?

Made us all nervous, most wanted to send ye off into the wild like a stray dog we didn't want. I hoped treating ye decently would make the difference, but the only real bridge between a former slave and a former King was the "former" part" the Patriarch says and smiles sadly. "Seems like that part worked out, to some extent"

[mshady]

The Patriarch's Story...

“Where to begin on all this? Probably best to start with a drink” Hignar chuckles to himself and takes a drink from his bug. It is a particularly humorless chuckle, this time. He pause a moment after, contemplating this matter.

“I may as well start at the beginning, so ye can fully understand everything; as much as any of it can be understood” Hignar says, downing the rest of his drink before taking the plunge.

“Our Clan, having left Iltkazar after wearing out our welcome after questioning the Mithril King’s sleeping on the job for most of a century. We came to the Thunder Peak mountains, set up Azmordin Halls and became vassals of the Tethyamar Kingdom, after a time. That’s where Prince Tasster comes from, and what I tell ye next will help ye understand his feelings towards us.

We were the junk shop of Shanatar, selling artifacts and knowledge our Clan had held on to for millennia, along with cheese and mushrooms. With that gift of knowledge though, we tutored many of Tethyamar’s future leaders, so they had warm spot for us. The Unalloyed Church was also quite appealing to dwarves seeking a more traditional life, and our Huesamman doctrine preaching the preeminence of Moradin over the patron of the shield dwarves, Dumathion, had a kind of niche popularity. Why worship interpretation of Moradin’s will, when ye can just worship him directly? High Sonnlinor Thorin Jilker, our leader, was on Tethyamar’s Council of Thanes and was considered the wisest dwarf on that council due to his advanced age and education.

He had a son, known to the history that has not been erased, called Thogan the Pious and he’s the won who set things sideways. When Hlondath fell, an area that provided Tethyamar with much of its food, he preached that Tethyamar would fall unless they all followed Moradin instead of Dumathion and the lesser Gods. Moradin would provide for his children in a time of need, like how he had done at a great bridge to cover the escape of Clan Ironstar. At the time, he was thought an augyr but I think he used the Hall of Mirrors in Faitholme. Ye can see every possible way you could have and will die, and it may have drove him mad. I think it drove Sable mad.
As threats grew against Tethyamar, Thogan lambasted them for weakening dwarf lines by interbreeding with humans. This was quite rare, but accepted. I’m sure he’d have a fit over my lineage!

Also, he criticized them for hiring mercenaries and said the only safe course of action was to retreat to the Underdark, and forget the problems of the surface. Their king, Ghellin I, promptly told Thogan where to shove his preaching and meddling and Thogan denounced Ghellin as False, basically excommunicating him. When he departed, he took an additional 2000 dwarfs with him, many of whom were soldiers and one person to remember. General Torthic Glorbek, the greatest general of his time. I suppose that parallels that whole bunch leaving Citadel Mirabar to go be with a right honest King in Bruenor. Orc thing aside, he’s a good dwarf.

Difference is, when they left, they plundered the temples and treasuries of Tethyamar and took a fifth of the treasury and artifacts like the crown I wear, and the Hammer Staff of Moradin. In retrospect, tis a good thing they did take them otherwise they’d be lost in the Mines or worse, but it was intentionally offensive. Truthfully, they were ours originally and we had mortgaged them for a seat at their table. I’m not sure what I would have done.

King Ghellin I took the high road and chose not to pursue them, as he did not want to have the blood of dwarves on his hands, especially ones that were part of his own Kingdom so recently, dwarves still with families in Tethyamar. It would have been a civil war, and he had a great horde of orcs and goblins coming his way. Thogan has tried to provoke him and hoped the outrage would unseat Ghellin and make him King, but Ghellin was too smart for that. One assumes, anyways. He had a war to fight, and our Clan abandoned them at a time of great need, taking the heart of their military with them and crushing their morale. We went back to Azmordin Halls, and with real numbers once again we made more than cheese and silks. We built an arsenal. We sent out Reclamation delegations. We offered all Clanless, free and dishonored dwarves the status of Sammankin, citizenship really except they could not become Thanes and put into Orders by trade. I shamelessly steal from this part of our Old Book. We had gone from 500, to 3000, to 6000. Thogan did nay want to live in the Realm’s Above, but we couldn’t find a better place so he took it as a sign we were supposed to live high on the mountain.

While the rulers of Tethyamar called themselves the Iron House, we called ourselves the Mountain House and took the image of the mountain lions, which prowled the area. General Torthic welded together a powerful dwarven force, one I pattern ours on now, with many innovations for his time.

Thogan the Pious died in his bed finally, supposedly a nose bleed gone unstopped. His son Bazur took over, and followed the path of the Paladin, much like your Hjalmar did. He wanted to be his own dwarf, separate from his father. He became the Patriarch. The problem was Thogan the Pious was not especially close to his own son after that choice, instead his nephew Thornstaag was the highest ranking Sonnlinor, the high priest, of the Unalloyed Church. You would think the differences in outlook between a Paladin and a Sonnlinor would not be that much, but it soon became one. When our realm was attacked by dragons, the two put their differences aside and Bazur became a great war hero and dragon killer. The two, along with General Torthic who no doubt did the real work, had saved the Kingdom. One of the dragons, we made a throne out of his Skull. Bazur had lost two of his sons in the battle though, and was grief stricken for a time. Understandable, but not very Kingly I once thought.

Having solidified his power, Patriarch Bazur sent his last surviving son. His name was Ballyrand, and he returned our ancestral artifacts back to the King of the Iron House in Tethyamar. That same crown and staff, the ones held by Taark Shanat when they founded Shanatar. I hope ye understand the pride in the possession, because giving them up meant giving up our identity to be part of someone else’s Kingdom. Thornstaag certainly understood that.

In exchange for the formal and extensive apology and restitution, the title of Arduke of Tethyamar with great holdings and responsibilities. He was also given a white rose bush from the gardens of the Iron King, as a symbol of peace. Thornstaag considered what Bazur did to be disowning the rather recent legacy of Thogan the Pious, and so did a lot of others. Believing the title of Patriarch had little power now that no one else followed us, he split his power in half. Embracing the title of Arduke, he tossed Thornstaag a bone and named him Patriarch. While once the power of King was of law and prayer giver, now he had cleaved it into two.

The core of us at this time were deeply religious and followed Thornstaag, while Bazur expanded his realm by inviting anyone he could to settle the territory he now held sway over; everything between the Thunder Peaks and the Desertmouth mountains. Quite a bit! Sitting between the small but fanatical Jilker die hards and the growing but hallow territories Bazur ruled was that elite military of ours lead by Torthic Glorbek. By this point, he was ancient and doddering but still hanging on to the saddle. Neither side knew his loyalties, but Bazur forced him into retirement.

With something of a vacancy now, Bazur appointed his son Ballyrand the General of the Iron Legions but Thorstaag forced Bazur to appoint his son Thurgar Jilker as second in command. He was supposed to ensure the religious correctness of the soldiers and their leader. Such a powerful force, probably more so than Tethyamar proper at this point, could effectively pick a ruler if it chose. This was all quite awkward for all involved, especially the military itself. Everyone liked it better with General Torthic Glorbek at the helm, and there was indeed a solution.

Using some old magic and spells from the times of Shanatar, Torthic gave up his soul to an ancestral artifact. They put together a great golem of adamantine, invincible to any means we knew of, to lead our military. General Torthic was loyal only to his job of protecting us from external threats, and that was much to the relief of everyone. Including the Iron House of Tethyamar”

Hignar pauses and fills his goblet again with some more ale.

“I know, it’s a long story and yer probably not seeing the point yet… but hear with me. Names like Ballyrand are important” he says and smiles apologetically.

[Gryndel]

Magnum
Sipping ale and casually munching bits of pork, the Sum Alaghor sat quietly and listened closely, trying to take it all in and commit this tale to memory. He chuckled slightly as Hignar paused, wondering briefly if the Patriarch had ever taken training as a bard or historian with such a detailed history recited from memory alone. Then it struck him that Hignar was telling it from a personal perspective with inclusive words like we, simply retelling his own ancestry, and possibly parts of his youth and experiences he had lived.

[mshady]

A Tale Continued...

“So where were we? Ah yes, the interesting part. Remember the part about how Patriarch Bazur, the one who foolishly split the power of his title, fought dragons? Well, they were a mated pair and they didn’t kill the bull dragon. Instead they killed the sow dragon and all its little wyrmlings during that dragon moot.

That dragon, Vulkanator, had slunk off to heal his wounds and plot revenge for years. It turned out there was a point to his sudden attack, for there was a realm named Thunderholme we had dealt with. Sometime between the rule of Thorin the Pilgrim and Thogan the Pious, Thunderholme had came to us for help dealing with a Shadow Dragon in their vicinity. They were advised to leave it well enough alone, and it may return the favor. Well, it did not. It coopted their High Priest Dagan of Dumathion, and he became King and invited his Master in. The dragon killed almost all the dwarves, except the handful that arrived at our door and told the tale. Arduke Bazur, realizing there was nothing he could do at this point, did nothing to avenge a dwarfhold being snuffed out.

That dragon, Aurgloroasa, knew where we were and sent its two thrall dragons to wipe us out but failed in the sky. With Vulk healed, a plan hatched and an army of undead dwarves and other riff-raff, they came at us from below this time during the time of Bazur and Thorstaag’s co-rule. They swarmed up through our mines, and our deep halls were cracked open by stone moving magic. That elite, heavy force built for the surface had to fight below now and it was a slugging match that went on for weeks. Of course, we didn’t realize it was a draconic attack at the time, so when we pushed them out of our tunnels and into a large cavern, we thought we had them.

What we had was the enemy’s toughest forces, undead soldiers in dwarf armor and other nasties… along with two very powerful dragons. With limited magic and in a straight fight, we gambled the kingdom on an attack with every man, woman, child and bad tempered dog or pig we had. Our hole card was General Torthic himself, and he lead the main attack against Vulkanator the Red while Aurgloroasa concentrated on command of it’s undead.

This fight went for hours, and Vulkanator sought our both Thorstaag and Bazur, slew them and devoured them for killing his mate and brood. Leadership fell to Ballyrand and Thurgar, now Arduke and Patriarch. General Torthic finally managed to catch up to and pin Vulkanator while it devoured Bazur and his command, who had used himself as bait to give Torthic an opening. The golem slew the dragon after a decisive fight, and Aurgloasa withdrew with his partner dead before his own forces suffered more losses and taking many of our dead with him. We probably lost 3,000 or so there. The cavern was so tightly packed, our soldiers splashed about in the blood of their friends, only to have to fight their own friends risen from the dead. Horrific battle… Take notes here, the names and what happened.
After the battle, Ballyrand took our throne and the title of Arduke. After such a horrific victory, he sought ways to make sure that would never happen again. Grieving for the loss of his father, and thousands of others too, he blamed Thorstaag and the Unalloyed Church for dividing the Jilkers. Thornstaag had formed his own, religiously oriented forces separate from the Iron Legions when General Glorbek returned. While much of that force was wiped out, Thurgar had survived the traumatic experience but could not deny their forces were not as coordinated as they should have been. His father had elected to command his forces instead of allowing Bazur or General Glorbek to command, for Thornstaag worried the battle may be a good excuse to weaken Thorstaag’s standing. He paid for that decision with his life, but Grandpa Thurgar assumed his own father had been right all along.

While Arduke Ballyrand worked hard to rectify his father’s error and reunite the power of Law and Prayer under one crown again, Patriarch Thurgar pulled away from that. The two blamed the other’s father for the death of their own, and General Glorbek refused to mediate Jilker clan squabbles. It got to the point where Patriarch Thurgar refused to ever bend knee and give up the Patriarch’s title and allow King Ballyrand, of Royal Blood, but still a lay soldier and never part of the Unalloyed Church. Most shockingly, he venerated Clangeddin and Dumathion instead of Moradin directly. Allowing Ballyrand to take the Patriarch’s title, to Thurgar, would be the end of the Unalloyed Church and Huesamman doctrine.

With a house divided and the majority of Jilkers, and their religious converts, behind their religious leaders, Arduke Ballyrand was rapidly losing leverage so he brought in the Tethyamar King to mediate the dispute. Of course, that King sided with his Arduke instead of the escalating religious leader. When that failed, Arduke Ballyrand took up the Forgermark Crown and the Hammer Staff and demanded they heel. Even with the vestiges of old authority, his demands were ignored and he was forced to bring in Tethyamar troops, for the Jilkers under Thurgar were arming. The response to this was that Thurgar simply slammed the doors of the Azmordin Halls closed, and Thurgar declared himself Patriarch. Rather than besiege his own home, Arduke Ballyrand returned the Staff and Crown to the Tethyamar treasuries and consented to joint rule again. It was better if neither possessed such treasures, Ballyrand thought but Thurgar disagreed.

What this whole crisis had done was radicalize the Unalloyed Church, and while a compromise had been reached between the leaders, not everyone in the ranks agreed. After such a great loss of life, Thurgar preached it was all because Arduke Ballyrand and his followers were being punished for not venerating Moradin. In turn, Ballyrand introduced missionary priests from other Gods to the Jilker Clan, finally going head on against the Unalloyed Church. With Tethyamar gold, missionaries and his own allies, Ballyrand tried to subordinate and break the Unalloyed Church, until one of Thurgar’s followers provoked Arduke Ballyrand into fighting a duel. Or he was assassinated. No one really knows for sure what happened, but as Ballyrand had no children, having neglected his first kingly duty much like myself, guess where the throne passed?

Thurgar immediately declared himself Patriarch though, and started to purify his ranks by throwing out the priests of every other faith. All of the missionaries were expelled, and with this sudden expulsion and the death of a Tethyamar Arduke, the Tethyamar cut off the Jilkers once and for all. That would have been the end of it, but they still held the Hammer Staff of Moradin and the Forgemark Crown.

Of course, Grandpa Thurgar wanted those back….” Hignar sighs for a moment before taking another drink. It is a sorrowful, long drink.

[mshady]

War and Exodus...

“Now for the bad part, I reckon. So Patriarch Thurgar wanted our treasures back, our heritage. There was no plundering things on the way out this time; we were already out. Thurgar had two things now, a united clan and General Glorbek’s army. Patriarch Thurgar demanded the return, and the Tethyamar demanded explanations. When some of King Ballyrand’s supporters, a few hundred of them, raided the tombs and fled with his body to the Tethyamar, it caused Thurgar to become a bit… unhinged.

A ten-day later, that white rose bush was heaved at the gates of Tethyamar, formally ending any relationship between Tethyamar and Jilker. They demanded the Staff and Crown be returned, but as one of the refugees was a distant relation of the Jilker royal line, the Tethyamar gave it to that dwarf. We never bothered to write his name down.

Taking Underdark passages between the mountains, Glorbek’s soldiers followed old maps and entered the Tethyamar Mines and swooped upwards. They subdued whomever they encountered, but did not kill any of the miners they encountered and bulled their way past anyone. Using magic we had learned to compensate for our losses, the old Arcanii style of Art, we moved quickly and closed down passageways inside their Kingdom. The Royal Treasury though, there was no way around it and it was guarded heavily. There was a brief standoff, they refused to back down so we attacked. Some of us died, some of them died, Glorbek ripped open their vault, took what was ours and any “sinner’s gold” we could carry and left. They looked for Ballyrand’s body to take it back to, if only to spite the dwarf, but it was nowhere to be found. We were lucky that, while the Staff and Crown were awarded to that pretender, he kept it deposited somewhere safe. He thought. I don’t think Thurgar wanted bloodshed, but his plan made it unavoidable.

With blood on the table, the Tethyamar marched now. We were weakened, but on the defensive. To them, we had sworn a Blood Oath with them to join with them and we were breaking that oath. We had also shed blood, so they rolled out and in large numbers with infantry and with what mercenaries they could afford. We fought them in the plains at a couple points, but mainly in the mountains as well as in the Underdark. They were beaten off, but we never pursued a rout, for they were still kin. They returned that favor, so while there were battles, they were not the bloodiest affairs there could be. Finally they pushed us to our doors and we fought them hard there.

Inside, Thurgar prayed to Moradin for the power to defend his realm against the Tethyamar but with each successive battle, those powers diminished. Thurgar took this as they were not faithful enough in this time of crisis, so he forbid offering prayer to any other God, followed by lashing suspected heretics, followed by outlawing the worship of any other God but Moradin. None of this seemed to please Moradin and with the battle turning against them, he decided this was all a sign Moradin wanted his “Chosen People” to live in the Underdark. So we sealed the gates of Azmordin shut forever, stripped the place as bare as we could, and retreated to the Underdark and away from the World Above..."

[mshady]

Down Under

“It took quite some time to move a whole Clan through the Underdark, but we did it. Patriarch Thurgar forbid bringing maps of the surface with us, or of anyone making a map of our journey to make sure no one could turn back. Starving and whipped, we found some particularly nice chambers that might have been an old dwarf or duergar stronghold and set to work. That was a rough and desperate year, for while we could forage on the move, we quickly cleaned out the area ‘round us and had to send out patrols further and further to bring back food. Not all of them made it back.

Telling everyone that he was sure this place had been left by Moradin just for us, we developed the area quickly, being the industrious folk that we are. First came food, than we restored the aqueducts, gathered rothe herds, reopened the old mines, built defenses and weapons. We fought off the local fauna, Beholders and drow and such in a few spots. It was a tough time.

With the basics out of the way, everything very much became guided by Thurgar’s vision of a perfectly ordered society. Religious schools, strict enforcement of beliefs, reeducation for any doubters and speaking the name of any other Gods was punishable. At first, other names were not spoken out of fear. Later, this education became so effective, those names were turned to a profanities and then even using them as a profanity was outlawed. You could be beaten for speaking the name of any other God, and you could be killed for believing. During this whole time, Thurgar continued to feel his power fade till virtually nothing. It was not just him, but all the other priests of Moradin. They all, with Thurgar’s help, came to the conclusion that they must ensure a perfect place of worship to please Moradin in thanks for delivering this promised land to them. Knowing that outward displays of divine power were needed to convince others, the priests took up the study of the Arcane to give the appearance of divine power to the masses. As there was a secret to keep, the Clergy of the Unalloyed Church became very tightly knit. With so few proving “worthy of Moradin’s blessing”, the actual clergy became even more cult like and wielded great power.

That clergy required protection, and they formed the Iron and Silver Rune, two circles of Arcanii. The Silver Rune was inherently subservient to the Iron Rune, for Berronar was Moradin’s wife and lived to serve him. In Thogan’s perfect world, that was the role of female dwarves, and Berronar’s name could only be spoken in the context of service. Moradin wouldn’t begrudge the recognition of his own wife, even if his greedy, manipulative children were never spoken. These Arcanii required protection, for they too were a rare and important breed, so the Sworn Shields were created to protect Arcanii like was done in the time of Shanatar. Larger forces, of course, were required to defend us and control the population, and spies were required to find the heretics in the first place, formed into the Iron and Silver Order. All of these forces were extremely well trained and equipped, and the Clan’s great smiths and thinkers were pushed hard to optimize equipment. A culture of continuous upgrade and improve took hold, and even this was warped into honoring Moradin.

At the same time, he decided that the Clan needed to grow for they had a serious labor shortage. Small wonder, as everyone was involved in our army, equipping it and praying for it! Every fertile woman in the Clan, which was maybe half or less of them, were required to have as many children as possible and if they didn’t have a husband, one would be provided for them from the Unalloyed Church. The rest were forced into trades or the Silver Order I mentioned, and they were treated poorly and used recklessly while the Iron Order was treated as Thurgar’s greatest treasure. Even that was not enough, so he pushed all of the miners into skilled trades and staffed the mines with slaves, starting a brisk business with local slavers.

Thurgar had not neglected his Kingly duties though, and had sired 3 sons and a daughter to ensure his line and they were all part of the Unalloyed Church. For the most part, they all worked together well but their father was getting older and they did more for him. Patriarch Thurgar, now without any divine blessing but a wizard growing in power and a theocrat at his apex, had devised every method he could think of to show Moradin they believed and were willing to atone for the sin of letting their treasures lay with others and putting other Gods before Him. Thurgar gave up on this, and decided he would just have to keep praying and wait.

What Thurgar thought he was waiting for was a restoration of his divine blessing, so they could return to the surface and enforce his will on the others. By returning to a proper religious foundation, the entire dwarven race would be saved. As Kal-resh said, they felt they needed to return and cull the herd for the good of all.

The problem was Thurgar was not young when he started, and was getting quite old now. He was becoming acutely aware of his own mortality, but was determined to be there when Moradin called his Clan back to the surface to purify and save our race. So he traded away treasures and knowledge to more exotic traders for all the ingredients and materials he needed. Old Thurgar was fading quicker every year and he held off as long as he could, but he withdrew to his palace, barred the doors drank of a dangerous potion and died."

Hignar pauses, closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"When he awoke, Thurgar was the Lich Patriarch of the Jilkers”

[mshady]

Interlude

Hignar looks around the table, judging their reactions, and indeed he appeared a bit nervous. What he was laying out here was not something he did easily, and it seemed to pain the old dwarf.

“So before I continue, any questions on any of this? I’ve spoken enough for the moment. As much as I can bear. We still have the fate of Thurgar to discuss and a couple more Kings before it gets to me, but they didn’t last as long. I’m not even sure I’m at the worst part yet, either. Great Clan history up until recently though, I’d like to think. I just hope this isn’t the end for us”

[Grodech]

Grathalmor sat and ate and drank while the story was told. As Hignar paused, Grathalmor was taking a drink of ale, but at the last revelation, it all came flying back out again, lest he gag on it. [i.e. spit-take] Coughing several times afterwards, he then stared, mouth agape, words failing him. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard, and he certainly understood why the story pained the patriarch.

ooc: You've got duplicate information in your 12:42 and 1:33 am posts, fyi.
http://suitupbros.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/neil-patrick-harris-spit-take.gif

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek was eating the tale up, comparing it to what he knew of that era from other sources. When Hignar mentionned a lich, he took a large swallow of ale to quench is suddenly dry throat, he had heard many such tales, and none of them ended anything approaching well.

((How well does Hignar's tale fit what Thordrek knows of that region's history? Knowledge history: [roll0]

[mshady]

Thordrek knows that the Jilkers fought the Tethyamar, were drove underground and that's it. None of the rest he has heard of.

[ArmanMadero]

Sitting in the infirmary for so long was really boring, Arman thought. And despite everything that the healers did to him, his leg was still crooked and somewhat painful when he walked. Definitely less than it was however. Nalrak had offered to fix everything up for him, going so far as to say "Still favoring one foot? I can reset that for you after we adjourn." Arman had just smiled at him and corrected the anatomy. A frown had gone over Nalraks face with a declaration that it was probably beyond his abilities unfortunately. Arman had just smiled and thanked the Dwarf regardless.

He would have to ask the Patriarch himself apparently.

The meeting with the dragons had gone well he supposed. He stood out there, ready to cast one of his more powerful spells at the dragons when an accord was reached and they left. After that, it was a journey to the hall where they were all invited for supper with the Patriarch.

The trophy room slightly troubled the Moon Elf, but he held his thoughts to himself, as Dwarves were known for such things. Of course, he had never seen so much before in one hall. It was... disturbing. Some of the Elven halls themselves had weapons of fallen heroes or enemies he knew. But he had never seen body parts displayed before like he saw in the Dwarven hall.

The mushroom soup that was offered was exquisite, and the breads were warm and sweet without being overly so. As he was mostly vegetarian, he partook a little of the pig and roast mutton that was offered, but mainly stayed with the breads and fruits and soups offered. He declined to try the Spider Wine.

Being an Elf in the Hall of Dwarves was certainly different. He was not of their faith. Arman knew of no Elves that followed Moradin, Dumathion or Clangeddin, and he knew he was considered faithless to them because of this. It however did not mean that they did not exist. They were just not of his faith. Corelion and Mystra were his gods and his faith was in them. So despite all that he has accomplished in the last few weeks, did that make him a heretic in the eyes of the Patriarch?

He hoped it wouldn't. That would make some tasks a little harder he thought.

The Patriarch was now telling the story of his clan, and Arman listened intently. Maybe some of his questions would be answered before he had to voice them.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

The last revelation disturbed him greatly; a dwarf King becoming a lich! He growled in a low and dangerous manner in reaction to such news, but he held that concern for now, hoping the rest of the tale would include how such an abomination was resolved and dealt with by others. A few points brought up some questions for Magnum, so he asked them one at a time, waiting for a answer before voicing the next.

"So upon losin' da divine blessings o'Moradin, da priests, led by da King, denied dis reality an' its cause by takin' up da study o'da arcane arts ta fool da people into believin' dey retained such divine powers. But nobody noticed da difference?"

"Who created da Forgemark Crown an' da Hammer Staff o'Moradin, an' when?"

"Who was da first dwarf honored ta wield dem?"

"Ye mentioned more'n once dat ye wear dis honored Crown. But what o'da Hammer Staff?"

"So Thogan da Pious was da one who split da clan based on misguided devotion ta only Moradin, establishing what we now know as da Unalloyed Church? But it was under Thurgar’s leadership by force dat it became da only Church o'da clan?"

"Dis shadow dragon - Aurgloroasa - created undead?"

Magnum chuckled before asking his last question for now. He truly tried to be diplomatic, but failed and blurted out bluntly, "And what o'yer Kingly duty, as ye put it? What's da problem, yer Majesty?"

[mshady]

Dialogue with Magnum

Hignar the Patriarch listens to each of Magnum’s questions, and nods respectfully to him each time before addressing them.

****
"So upon losin' da divine blessings o'Moradin, da priests, led by da King, denied dis reality an' its cause by takin' up da study o'da arcane arts ta fool da people into believin' dey retained such divine powers. But nobody noticed da difference?" Magnum asks.

“Looking back at it now, we should have noticed a lot o’things. Dwarves are naturally adverse to most magic, so we distrust it, don’t use it much. If we see it, magic is magic and we mostly take someone’s word for it. You or I wouldn’t, but we’d be part of the ones perpetrating it.

Of course, we were taught the Weave was divine, was tapping directly into Moradin’s power that was left to us. Who was there to tell us any different?” Hignar chuckles at the thought. “We must seem very naïve, but if Thurgar said something, who were any of us to disagree with the likes of him? If you did, that was not the era to say it in”

****
"Who created da Forgemark Crown an' da Hammer Staff o'Moradin, an' when? "Who was da first dwarf honored ta wield dem? Ye mentioned more'n once dat ye wear dis honored Crown. But what o'da Hammer Staff?" Magnum fits in at some point.

“The Forgemark Crown? Not sure who made it, but no doubt a very skilled dwarf goldsmith. Who wore it first was Taark Shanat, when he founded Shanatar he wore that crown. He wore it, the next few wore it, drama and politics, Dumathion is chosen by Moradin as the Patron of the Shield Dwarves and Shanatar. Shanat became Jilker, the others ruled, we got the crown and leadership back, never gave up the crown. The thing’s thousands of year’s old, but ultimately no real powers besides symbolism. I keep it in a glass case when I’m not wearing the thing. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and that much gold and gems gets rough” he says and smirks.

“The Hammer Staff is over in the corner, on an umbrella rack actually. I usually hang something over it, because it glows and makes it hard to sleep but I don’t like either to be far from me when I can avoid it. The Staff is something special though. Every monarch or Patriarch that has wielded that staff has left a part of their mind in it, a portion of their soul. When I hold that staff and think of what to do, sometimes the Old Ones will share their thoughts. Or I can converse with them, to an extent. Even as far back as Taark and Barak Shanat, to Thogan and Thornstaag.

Not conversations, but glimpses. It’s less useful then ye may think to govern, but the staff represents a nearly unbroken line of the rulers my Clan going back to it’s inception. I’ve no idea of it’s origins, but it be a powerful artifact with other powers to it. Great ones. I hope that helps ye make sense o’why we stole them twice, and I had to take them with me”

**************

"Dis shadow dragon - Aurgloroasa - created undead?" Magnum inquires, as the story goes on.

“Yes he did. A lot of them, hundreds. Maybe thousands. We’re not sure what it really is, or even if it’s truly a dragon, but my ancestors decribed it as having a shimmering aura of blackness about it. It’s breath could kill and you’d rise again shortly thereafter. Terrifying, it was. No idea if it’s even still alive, but we’ll come back to him…”

****
"So Thogan da Pious was da one who split da clan based on misguided devotion ta only Moradin, establishing what we now know as da Unalloyed Church? But it was under Thurgar’s leadership by force dat it became da only Church o'da clan?"

“Neither really. The Unalloyed Church has existed for thousands of years, within our Clan mostly. It was the “official” church of our Clan, and we all followed it. I nay find anything really objectionable to venerating Moradin first and foremost. While it promoted that and discouraged the following of others, it was all part of the family still.

Under Thurgar’s leadership, he twisted the nature of the Unalloyed Church. He bled the tolerance right out of it, and drove out, reeducated or killed anyone who believed differently. The belief in the other Gods made the Clan less theologically “pure”, they polluted us and made it harder to regain Moradin’s blessing. He forgot that the title of Patriarch means “father”, and ye can only be a father if ye have children to watch out for.

I’ll get to the rest, but to this day I don’t know if Thurgar was evil, even if he was awful. I think he went looking for faith in all the wrong places, and his father’s death broke the dwarf. An illness of the mind and soul that grew, and unfortunately it grew in the heart of someone with power. Was he following some dark God? It would certainly make it easier, but no. Also makes it so, so much more dangerous”

****
Magnum chuckled before asking his last question for now. He truly tried to be diplomatic, but failed and blurted out bluntly, "And what o'yer Kingly duty, as ye put it? What's da problem, yer Majesty?"


Hignar pauses for a long moment.

“We’ll get to that”

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Having sat forward with his elbows on his knees, Magnum listened intently to the answers given to his question. When it was mentioned, he glanced over in the corner to catch a glimpse of the Hammer Staff. With an arched eyebrow of suspicion, he gazed back at Hignar and asked pointedly, "So part o'yer soul be sucked inta da Staff when ye wield it? Are da ideas ye get from such ancestors compellin' in any way, or only advise left fer ye ta choose or reject?"

Satisfied with the other answers he received so far, if not happy with them all, he sat back again and sipped more ale, more than ready to wait for replies to the deferred inquiries. With a nod he indicated that he was finished for now, "Do go on, yer Majesty, when ye feel sufficiently inspired."

[mshady]

Hignar

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe it does? Your soul is not exactly like a pie with only so much to go around. I do believe the longer you live, the more soul you have. I also know that some of my predecessors left their entire soul in the staff instead of going to Moradin to better serve their people at the time. Certain voices are... more dominant, but their ideas are only compelling if they make sense. Mostly ye get "yes" or "no". Like any powerful tool, ye have to be careful with it though I presume"

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt had been listening quietly, being one of the few non-dwarves in the room. He was interested in this story, and listened intently throughout. He was dumbfounded at the part where the Lich Patriarch came in, though, sitting up straight.

"I can't imagine too many folks takin' kindly to 'dat... I ain't ever met a lich before and I hope to Shaundakul I never do. All I hear is bad news, 'dough. I can't say Halfling history is quite as... colorful as yours. Nobody keeps records of much."

He took a light sip of wine, not something he often partook in, but decided for this particular instance it was appropriate, and leaned forward in his seat again, eager to hear the rest.

[mshady]

Hignar tips his head to Wyatt and nods solemnly.

“I’ve met a few in my time. I suppose that must seem a stretch to believe, but I am well-traveled. And been a few places I should not have gone. They’re hard to kill, and unless you know where their soul crystal is, it tis best not to bother. They tend to hold a grudge. Still, they are also long lived and often will strike a bargain with you, if you prove useful or have something they want.

The worst I ever dealt with was many years ago, a drow who thought he had discovered a means of Ascension and become a new drow God. At the time, I needed knowledge of a particular area of the Underdark and we struck a deal with the local Drow to go with them to deal with it. Not something I was proud of, but that Lich was on to something and we needed a map. Never found out his exact plan, his fortress collapsed after his death. I think you’re familiar with that map, Wyatt” Hignar smiles.

“Thirty of us walked in, ten walked out” he says somberly.

“Not all dwarves, but some were drow and some were friends I traveled with from the surface. From that adventure, a very occasional and often useful working relationship with a certain Matron of Menzoberranzan. They are the 7th or 8th House there? I don’t keep tabs on that sort of thing. Anyways, they like the Shades about as much as I do. They also send me cases of Spider Wine on occasion for some of our ales” he stops and drinks from his mug.

"Actually, recent events require a Summit shortly with them, if anyone is interesting in coming along"

[Gryndel]

Magnum

The Alaghor chuckled, though with little humor in the sound emanating from deep within his chest, "I've had more'n a few encounters wid dark elves in my days. Not all bad, but most were in one way'r anudder. I'd be more'n willin' ta go, dey seem ta respect a position of strength when negotiatin'. Da pair we had along, at least until one was cut up, caused us more'n a bit o'trouble. Last I saw, da swords da one was after were still bein' secured by dat elf... Eloin was it? Or did he hand em over ta ye, Johannes?"

After another big chug of ale, Magnum added in, "Aye, lich be about da nastiest an' most dangerous undead dar be."

[mshady]

Hignar frowns somewhat, and notes the stunned reaction from a couple of you about what he said. He shrugs apologetically. He takes a moment to down some more of his drink and refreshes it from a pitcher again.

“Now where was I? So yes, Thurgar became a Lich so he could live until Moradin decided to bless us again and we would return to the surface and enforce our purity. No, that did not go over so well. When he awoke as a Lich, he tried to portray it as a miracle. That Moradin had granted him long life because his guidance was required to finish the Clan’s atonement for their lack of faith and prior impurities.

This worked for a short period of time, but his flesh began to wither badly and my kinsmen figured out something terrible and unnatural had happened. He explained much of that away with one of his great sermons, saying now he had been blighted for his failures and that there were heretics amongst them. This continued to displease Moradin.

That worked awhile, but he had his rivals who had been betting on a change of order when Thurgar passed away. When he conveniently failed to do so, and instead got a literal new lease on life, plots began against him. They said he was indeed unnatural and his failure to lead the Clan caused Moradin to curse him so. Without Moradin’s blessing, he no longer had the right to rule, so some of the “priests” and other orders moved against him.

When I say moved against him, they tried to kill him. No one there had ever seen a Lich, or knew the power he wielded, and quite simply he killed his attackers. Bloody affair, but he invited everyone who opposed him into the Cathedral of Blood and Iron to step down peacefully and accept his fate. Killed everyone in the Church that showed up, figuring anyone who wanted to see him go must be conspiring against him. Had the place cleaned up and ready for service a few days later, like nothing happened.

Of course, something profound did happen. We now lived in fear of Thurgar after that, and were powerless against him. What could be done against that kind of power? He had everyone a hostage to his whim now, and becoming a Lich had not helped his mental state. He was attacked in the streets by some of our own soldiers even, his version of The Patriarch’s Own. Many of the priests stuck with him, as well as the military orders because they believed he was still their legitimate Patriarch, otherwise Moradin would have removed him.

For Thurgar, he decided that he could not trust anyone. Suddenly his Clan of pious little dwarves were doubting their faith, their mission and belief in him. He required protection from them, so he turned to the duergar traders that had sold him the components that allowed him to become a Lich. With little actual trade or need of currency, we had amassed a huge horde of precious metals and gems, and he brought in Duergar mercenaries under a General Marltok to take over his personal guard. His logic was that, since his own people could not be trusted, mercenaries could be if they were paid. If they ever tried to move against him, the rest of the Clan would never support them to unseat him, because they were Duergar. He was not dumb.
The installation of first Duergar guards came first. Sensing the growing unrest in the military orders, he brought in a thousand or so Duergar soldiers to disarm the Iron Legions and serve as our standing military. They would only be allowed their arms and armor in a time of war. Also not popular. As I mentioned, Thurgar had three sons. One was part of the Unalloyed Church, one in the Iron Rune and one in the Iron Order. Their names were Kazran, Daegan and Stromni, respectively. Kazran was the eldest and next in line for the throne and had lived to serve his father faithfully, When Thurgar heard of a conspiracy within the Unalloyed Church to kill Thurgar, somehow, and place Kazran on the throne, Thurgar reacted. He killed Kazran, his wife, their children, their children’s spouses and children to make an example to everyone of what the consequences were.

While that was apparently a rumor someone fed Thurgar as part of politics in the Church, Daegan and Stromni did try to put together a conspiracy to unseat Thurgar. I’ll spare ye the details, but it nearly worked until Marltok’s forces were able to intervene and stop Daegan, a very powerful mage himself, from killing his father. Thurgar killed both of them, and their families. There are fates worse than death, and he inflicted them. With only his daughter Gwenelyn left, and no legacy or ability to father one, he was compelled to make sure the Jilker Royal Line continued. When it was “discovered” that her husband was part of one conspiracy or another, Thurgar had Athdara Silvernail executed. To continue the Royal Line and make sure Gwenelyn could be a figurehead for another conspiracy, he had General Marltok rape his own daughter until she produced a son that was half duergar. Apparently, having Marltok as a father would mean the son would be loyal to the father, whose loyalty Thurgar owned. It made sense to him at the time, at least…”

Hignar pauses to take a drink and takes a bit out of a biscuit.

“Keep in mind this all went on over many years. He ruled, as a Lich, for maybe two decades? He brought in Duergar guards, disarmed our vaunted military and heroes to replace them with Duergar troops, killed his sons and had his daughter raped just to continue the Unbroken Line. Everyone hated him at this point, but being virtually unarmed compared to the Duergar, there was little choice. The Duergar ran things horribly. They were well paid, but even they knew how terribly wrong the situation was, and they enjoyed every minute of it while telling Thurgar what he wanted to hear. So long as the money kept coming. Thurgar was keenly aware of the feeling now, but decided he could not quite bring himself to wiping out his own Clan and starting over. Instead, he built a massive fortress known as The Crucible. It was far away, in the Underdark, and it was supposed to be a refuge. It was massively expensive to build, and he could only trust Duergar to do it. He also had to pay for the mercenaries, and increasingly large “loyalty” payments to those who actually governed us. That wealth was not inexhaustible.

The occupation would finally end when General Torthic Glorbek was finally stirred to action after the death of the heirs, the Duergar occupation and many, many other outrages. Including locking him up in a vault. When the entire Clan finally did rise up, General Glorbek was able to defeat Thurgar and destroy his body. With their patron gone, and the Iron Legions rearmed, Marltok’s duergar were bloodied. In the interest of saving lives, General Glorbek forced a truce and allowed the Duergar to withdraw to The Crucible. That was the last we heard of Thurgar and of those Duergar, but there was still a good bit of trading by necessity with them. We heard that there was a great battle between the Duergar and Thurgar, who defended the Crucible with undead, many of them the same dwarves he had killed in the purges. No idea who won that battle, but I would nay bet on the Duergar there. Ye could probably still find Marltok walking around there as some kind of undead servitor.

Thurgar’s last words haunt us all to this day, “With Fire and Judgment, I shall be restored!”

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek shudders

So it still exists? If Thurgar was that insane before a few centuries of isolation, there's no telling how raving mad it could well be by now

[mshady]

Pausing for yet another drink, for surely the old dwarf needed one after this part of his tale, Hignar leans back into his chair for a moment and swirls the drink in his mug.

“So that’s the tale of Thurgar. Charming one, is it not? All we know is that, somewhere, he is still out there and a menace to us. The Jilkers in the Underdark, as well as us, for I hold the Staff, Crown and Hammer that were pried from his bony fingers. Helluva mutual interest to have with them, but there ya go. I can only imagine what Thurgar has been up to. Not sure I want to know. As you say, Thordrek, there’s no telling how raving mad he is now, and he was raving mad before! I imagine he’s gone quite mad, and there were always reports of unexplained scrying when we were below. A few reports here now as well. One of the many reasons I live in a lead lined bunker surrounded by half a dozen wards.

With him gone though, Gwenelyn became our Queen until her son Beldak was old enough to take up the title of Patriarch. Grandmother was a bold lass, and named herself Matriarch of Berronar instead. A bit hallow as titles went, but she stopped Thurgar’s program of using our Clan’s fertile women as brood mares and the others as fodder in battle. She turned those soldiers into an elite order on par with Iron Order, and the Silver Rune would support the Silver Order with battle magic. Everyone was expected to serve at some point, and they became a professional standing force instead of a short term conscription reserve. Not surprisingly after her father had her raped by a Duergar after having her husband killed and the Clan’s women used in breeding programs, she wanted to make sure it never happened again. She believed if the women of the Clan had power and training, such measures could never be imposed again. If you’ve met Glorian, ye can see what a deterrent she created. She never remarried, either. Apparently heavy armor and restoring Berronar to a level of respect is what it took, but there is a great deal of enmity between the genders still. Jilker women are feisty ones, I’ll say that much.

So yes, she ruled and gave way to her son Beldak before withdrawing to lead the Silver Rune and The Silver House of Berronar. Beldak was young and was married to Xyrhana, a niece of Athdara Silvernail, Gwenelyn’s late husband. During Gwenelyn’s regency, she took care of her husband’s remaining family. One of the ranking families in the Clan and sitting on the Council of Thanes, her support made them the second family in the Clan. Understandably, Gwenelyn felt more affinity for them than her own family. By marrying her ill prepared son Xyrhana, she effectively kept control over her son during his rule. He still enacted some reforms, rationalized our forces and such, and instituted a great golem building program because of our loses under Thurgar’s purges and fighting the Duergar. He also divided the major trades into specialized Guild Orders, and turned heavily to slaving to run our mines once again. There were just not enough of us, especially with the threat of Thurgar’s return and the four major fights we got into with the duergar, drow an aberrations that plagued the area.

Anyways, Beldak and Xyrhana had two sons and a daughter. Borolim, Dain and a daughter, Morna. Borolim was my true grandsire, while Dain is the grandsire of Tolrin, in case anyone was wondering about that. Beldak took over the Unalloyed Church, and restored it somewhat. Gone were the purges and such, but his “Original Verse” reforms rolled things back only to the point that while Berronar was now respected, another but her or Moradin were still prohibited. He believed that we still had to atone for not just prior sins, but for Thurgar’s actions. As no cleric’s powers were returned, the assumption was we needed to restore real faith. Lots of church services, several times a week, actually. Singing, sacrifices of treasure, hour long group prayers, new churches anywhere we could find an empty plot to build one.

Actually, I’d be surprised if all that did not get some Divine attention, but they still received no recognition. Their beliefs were all still wrong-headed, they still refused to recognize anyone else in the Pantheon and still punished anyone suspected of doing so. Now that I am Moradin’s Chosen, the bargain at that point for them was total acceptance of the whole pantheon or still outcast. The problem too was that the Unalloyed Church just flat out could not change. Too many people had believed that way for so long, they did not care for any other ways because it would mean the Unalloyed Church would not be center of life there. Every one of those clerics, even Barolim, had astonishing wealth and privledge. Admitting that the Church had substituted arcane magic for divine magic to the masses would destroy the credibility of the Church. While I think Barolim might have been the first Patriarch to have his heart in the right place in a long time, he literally knew no different. You could not find a book with the name of Clangeddin or Dumathion in it if you scoured the whole place. Anyways, he lived to almost 200 and suffered an illness. Consumption, we think. Not that he was a great warrior, but we were in a fight at the time and he wanted to go out like a dwarf and so he did.

Next up was my father… "

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt sat up for a moment, staring straight ahead as he remembered the map that Hignar mentioned.

"Map... oh, yeah! 'dat's right. 'dat map saved our arses. With it I was able to help find a way out of the mountain. I always find the right road in the end..." He leaned back a moment, pondering. "A summit? Well, most of 'dis sounds like dwarf business... invitin' myself feels kinda wrong. If anybody requires my services, all ya have to do is ask and we'll talk it out."

He leaned forward again as Hignar told the rest of the story, an incredulous one it was.

"You mentioned a soul stone... so Thurgar is probably still around if it was never broken, yeah? Wonder where it could be..."

[Toliudar]

"Actually, recent events require a Summit shortly with them, if anyone is interesting in coming along"

Johannes waited for an appropriate gap in the storytelling, while glasses were being charged and plates refilled, to respond.

"While I'm enjoying the sunshine again, it was good to experience a bit of the variety of life, the deprivations and dissipations, so to speak, that go with that part of the world. If I'm not need elsewhere, that might be a fun jaunt. For any given value of 'fun' of course."

He took another sip of the spider wine, feeling the pleasant tingling on his lips once more.

"Before you continue, my lord, a point of clarification. It seems that this Thurgar seemed to value tradition and continuity very highly. Why do you think that he didn't pursue a more metaphorical path to immortality? That is to say, why didn't he simply pass the throne on to one of his sons?"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Taking in the entirety of the sad story, Nalrak softly shakes his head and responds to Johannes' question. "If I follow, it seems Thurgar valued his interpretation of Moradin's will above all else. He saw his view as the culmination of all tradition. Any change, any slight deviance, would bespoil it. Ceding the throne would mean allowing the interpretation of another--even his own son--to take precedence over his own. So instead, he wiped them out. It astonishes me that he could call for faith in The Father while being such a poor one himself.

The Unalloyed turned to fierce monotheism in hopes of receiving restored power--an answer to Thurgar's prayers? How often we mistake the silence of the gods for their absence. You think they would notice that the more they pursued this path, the more their powers waned. But alas, pride is the enemy of faith. So Thurgar warped himself into something unholy pursuing holiness. Please, Majesty, continue. This has been most enlightening. Does Thurgar still hold any sway over the Unalloyed, or does his hatred for them burn in isolation within his Crucible?"

[Gryndel]

Magnum

The Alaghor growled deeply, a fierce grin appearing on his face as he said gruffly, "Sounds like one lich dats been around fer way too long, not dat any of em oughta exist in da first place! Yet one more mission ta add ta da list eh?"

[mshady]

“Yes, that map. Glad ye found it useful, but I’ll be needing that back. Just to be clear on that. Ye should have seen what I went through the first time to get one” Hignar says, and extends his hand to Wyatt or Johannes.

Next, he turns directly to Johannes and smiles, but a bit less thrilled this time.

“Yes, glad ye got a chance to get above ground again and get a whiff of fresh air. It’s something to ‘ppreciate. I spent most of my life without that smell. Ye get used to it, living miles under the ground. If you’d like to go to the little summit with Tolrin and I to assist, it might be… educational for you,” he says and shrugs.

The Patriarch takes a drink from his ale stein and sets it down carefully before continuing, as Johannes and Nalrak have a brief exchange.

“No one knows for sure what went through his mind, but I think Nalrak has the right of it. I doubt he could trust anyone to “carry on” for him. Any variation from the path he set them on would risk the Clan, so he decided to “stay on” to make sure that happened. To serve his Clan, much like General Torthic did.

You would think they would notice the more they tried, the more their powers and blessings waned. It was something I wondered about. Truthfully, it was all so stratified, everything flowed through Thurgar, we depended on them. I think Thurgar got down the wrong path from the start. As a parent, I understand it. When your father disapproves, you try to get his approval. When ye don’t, ye try harder. Some people define their whole lives around getting that approval. He chased the rabbit down the wrong hole and… well, here we are.

As for where his phylactery is, where a lich stores his soul, is probably with him in the Crucible. Where else would it be? He was so controlling, I can’t reckon he’d let it too far out of his sight. Don’t worry, we checked all the Artifacts we brought out with us. Verrrry carefully. He had quite a bit of time with them, but he respected them. He was good, but Glorian and I are better and our predecessors were no slouches either. For good or for ill” he says and stops again for a drink and a deep sigh.

“Once Thurgar was excused from the Clan, we never heard from him again. I’d feel better if we had, but him and Marltok just walked off the stage. We were always careful to make sure the Clan was not vulnerable to outside influences. Truthfully, it all seemed pointless to me. Well, besides it was a good reason to tighten the screws even more. We guarded against Thurgar, but we were stuck with his legacy, his theology, everything. We honored his legacy, but not the mortal failings of our leader because what else would we have? He chose… poorly at the time of his death.

Ultimately, I just think he was afraid of dying. We were cut off from Moradin’s Halls and a connection to our ancestral faith. When we died at that point, our souls had nowhere to go but wander around eternity till nothingness. Now I know a bit different as to where our souls would go, but it’s hardly kinder. I don’t think he wanted to die, like all the rest of us, and wanted to hang on till he could go home” Hignar says sadly and shakes his head, seeming to sympathize with his predecessor.

“Crazy fraker”

[Strangie]

Wyatt

"Of course, sir. Got it right here." He reaches in his pack, and hands the map to Hignar as requested, respectfully. He kept very good care of it from the looks of it, a rare chance for him to be able to use something that incredible and useful to him - he respected the power it had.

"I took the best care of it 'dat I could, and I feel pretty good about 'dat knowin' how important it is. I'll be lucky if I get to use it or somethin' similar to it again."

He leans back in his chair, looking upward a bit, thinking over the situation. "I've got a feeling I'm gonna be in for the long haul with you guys... I've still gotta talk to Viktor, Tec'lic and Eoin and see what they wanna do... and figure out what happened to Sable... but the smart money says my services as a scout and warrior will be open to you. But I'd like to stay with 'dis crew. I wasn't too sure how I'd get along with a mostly dwarven group at first, but... it's a good feelin', when you get a band of folks you trust your life with."

He shakes his head about the comments regarding Thurgar. "Some folks just can't accept death 'dat easily, when 'dey're is still stuff 'dat needs getting done, no matter how old you are, I guess..."

[mshady]

More Recent Legacies...

“Well, where were we? Beldak died rather you, in the 5th Battle of Breakneck pass, a passageway to one of our aquifers. He was 200 years old or so, and had a sudden illness and decided to go out with honor. If it had not been for a year long war with those orcs, he probably would have died in bed. We were constantly fighting, but it was mainly skirmishes around the edge of our domain. Truthfully, I think he was poisoned.

He was never popular, a half duergar who looked much like Duervar does. That name actually means “half duergar” to us, and it is what they called my grandfather behind his back. Even though Thurgar was long gone, the theology he left was part of a long line dating back to Thogan the Pious. Purity of faith was the most important, but purity of the race was a big issue for him as well. Cross breeding with other races was considered tainting our line. It was rarely an actual issue due to our isolation, but my grandfather was sidled with all that pent up disdain. We were proud to be dwarves. How could we show our Father what good dwarves we were if we were lead by someone who had the blood of line of dwarves cast out for their rebellion? If he had been anyone other than a Jilker, our Patriarch, he would have been cast out or killed. Allowing him to wear the crown, and hold the staff and hammer was very offensive to the Unalloyed Church of Moradin. Despite all this, he used his position to end the purges and policing, the worst excesses of the Unalloyed Church that happened under Thurgar. He still believed in the “Original Verse” and “Huesamman” theology though, of how none should be worshipped but Moradin and now Berronar as well. For the insignificant women folk, who were becoming far more significant. After Thurgar, my grandfather built temples and we sang, prayed and sacrificed often to try and convince Moradin to accept us again.

In a way, I am surprised that didn’t work. Being Chosen now and knowing His will such as it is, it was an “All or Nothing” proposition because our Father was greatly displeased and does not forgive lightly. Moradin and all his children had to be accepted or no forgiveness would be offered.

I know I mentioned much of that before, but the context is important. He was disdained for his heritage, because the only branch of the Jilker Royal Line left took a detour through Thurgar’s daughter after he killed his three sons. He married a Silvernail, a controlling wife interested in limiting the power of the King and protecting the rights of the women of the clan after how poorly they were used. The Unalloyed Church couldn’t get past his heritgage and disdained him, and he disdained them right back. Like all the rest though, he ultimately drank of the same ale and used magic to convince the rank and file citizens their leader still had legitimacy. Actually he did quite a bit of it, quite showy really, to shore himself up. Distasteful but not unwise, given his situation. His push for real faith and worship, as opposed to living in fear, only strengthen the Unalloyed Church in a time when it’s legitimacy was questioned after Thurgar. My grandfather essentially saved the Church that hated him, and I strongly believe they killed him for it once they could stand alone.

So, with him dead, my father Borolim took the throne. He was young, and his mother acted briefly as a regent. While they were unquestionably the Kings of the Clan by historic right, the Unalloyed Church should choose the Patriarch and allow them dominion over all religious matters. Yet they pitched this as the only logical reaction to Thurgar’s rule, for he held too much power and that power must be divided. My grandmother agreed to this, and effectively blessed a bloodless coup by the Unalloyed Church. While he was still the King of Clan Jilker, he had little more than ceremonial powers. His domain became more one of settling family disputes, overseeing law enforcement and financial matters to an extent. He was more of a Judge than a King, really. The Unalloyed Church controlled most of the military orders, the religion and as they collected tithe tax, they controlled most of the real wealth. Against all that, he only had the service of General Torthic Glorbek’s increasingly distant golem that stirred only on occasion. The General remained loyal to the Jilker King, but he was about it and was more a statue than of use. He had given up, but as he gave his soul to an ancestral artifact to protect the Clan, he had no where else to go.

Borolil married a respectable enough woman, Syvet Montaiden, and they had two sons and a daughter. With little to actually do, but a great deal of wealth, he mainly spent his time building things. He was bitter about the order of things and drank heavily, but he still managed to be a decent father. He was also quite an accomplished architect, and focused on the infrastructure of our Citadel. Not an unimportant role, but it was a far cry from the power of his father and grandfather. Still though, a school of architecture and another of engineering are dedicated to him.

He served as a general in the Iron Legions but had little aptitude for it. He also had no aptitude at all for magic, so he probably could not have pulled off the Patriarch’s hat regardless. It might have even been the reason for the split between crown and Patriarch and my grandmother may have had some wisdom. I doubt her intent was so unselfish though.

During my father’s reign, a Patriarch Mettetal was elected by Unalloyed Church. Significant historically for us, not such a great result, eh? He was younger, intelligent and ambitious. I emphasize intelligent here for a reason, because when the frenzy that Beldak kicked up failed to restore us, many in the Clan finally started to give up on it ever happening. Thurgar’s legacy was increasingly unpopular, and there was a great deal of worry about him somehow returning or influencing the Clan. Our forces were patterned around having to someday fight him, and the Unalloyed Church took it upon themselves to police us. That there was an actual cult of Thurgar, old diehards who refused to give up his dream, eventually led to a confrontation. Taking over the main temple will do that. Patriarch Mettatal put it down, and hard. After he killed those 50 dwarves, he was very secure in his power. The irony is that most of them were members of the Unalloyed Church, or at least were. Many had been purged out of the clerical ranks when Thurgar fell.

King Borolil watched all this and was appalled at the blood bath. We soon had armed troops all around, raids, a prison, Arcanii deployed for “truth finding”. Quite a few dwarves went to the mines due to that. A few more were executed. It was like Thurgar’s reign all over again. There was not much my father could do at this point, but the danger of letting the Unalloyed Church run itself were plainly evident.

It would get worse, for Mettetal put forth his own theology. Our prayers and faith were not enough, but Acts were required. Thurgar would have to found and destroyed at some point, but paying old debts only makes you break even. Even was not good enough. Mettetal preached that we had fallen from grace because we had abdicated our historic role in the dwarven order. That we must return and share our beliefs in order to save the dwarven race and return it to its former glory. The best would rule with us, and the rest would serve. Which is why allll this should concern the rest of you"

More to come!

[mshady]

The Reign of Hignar Begins

The Patriarch pauses again and takes a puff off of his cigar. He reclines for a moment and looks up at the ceiling of his chambers with a vacant look in his eyes for a moment. It seems hallowed and pained for a moment, and he closes his eyes. He seems lost in contemplation for a moment before sitting up again and addressing the group. The look in his eyes now are much harder, a flinty grey.

“Manifest Doctrine of Faith they called it. Purify all of the scattered dwarf clans and reunite them, than take us all back to Deep Shanatar. That armor you faced? Imagine hundreds or thousands of them! They would annihilate the defenses of every major dwarf stronghold in the north, and I doubt you saw the worst they have to offer. With them all standing alone, it would be bad. Look at King Bruenor? He could barely get help against orcs! So yes, it was basically an us against everyone theology, and we were on a mission from Moradin to save our race. If you remember from our histories, it is not even the first time we have done this. Had to do it, which was true the first time at least…

My father was powerless against much of this. He had about as much control over the Clan now as he did his household. As heir to an irrelevant throne, I spent much of childhood and early maturity being as irresponsible as possible. What was the point anymore? I had grown up watching my father, a great King in my eyes, be emasculated by the Church. At first he tried to focus his energies productively, his frustration became too much and he slowly killed himself with ale and gluttony. My uncle Dain was second only to Mettetal in the Unalloyed Church, for he was a second son who had sought opportunity in a way most likely to gain his brother’s ire. He would eventually marry his daughter to Mettetal, lending him our Name. My aunt Morna would be sent to the Silver Order and serve as it’s commander there. She was forced to accept a vow of celibacy to avoid any rivals to either throne. She hated both my father and uncle for that, she was one of the most decent women I had met.

As I mentioned, I had a brother, named Morgen. While I was ‘trapped’ by an irrelevant title, he joined the Iron Order and was second in command to Barakas Montaiden, the weapon master of the Clan. Morgen was an ambitious, driven commander who had close ties to the Unalloyed Church through Uncle Dain. Kelsia joined the Silver Rune and trained under my distant cousins, Gemma and Glorian Silvernail. They made her into a wonderful figurehead priestess of Berronar bearing the Jilker name, who hated everything Thurgar had done to her gender. At this point, the Unalloyed Church of Berronar was led by the Faenor Superior Vanyra Silvernail. The Old Crone, as I called her, was the mother of Gemma and Glorian and not only had control of the Silver Rune through her twin daughters, but most of the women in our Clan in some respects. The only fracture in that united front was my Aunt Morna, who dreamed of nothing but a family of her own to a hard bitten professional soldier. Her sister soldiers became her family there. While my father and brother had forced her vow to help keep the peace and order, it was Vanyra who had first proposed and authorized that. So I think that sufficiently sets the stage for what came next…

Quite ignominiously, my father drank himself to death. His long suffering wife found him on his back in his throne room, drowned in his own vile. Knowing that the throne would fall to me next, and how little power we still had, my own mother immediately fled to the protection of the Silver Order and my Aunt Morna. Young and utterly unprepared, I was told my father was dead, my mother fled in fear of fear of my anticipated inability to protect her and that I was King of Jilkers while in the company of a court woman. My coronation consisted of being handed the Forgemark Crown in a box, along with an urn of my father’s ashes and being told I was expected to continue to serve my Clan. I had ignored most of my formal education and had not done a responsible thing in my life.

Faced with continuing irrelevance and a personal treasury insufficient to maintain myself and my household, I made do the only way I could. When Mettatal and my Uncle Dain summoned me and sought to repair the gap between King and Patriarch, I essentially asked them what was in it for me. Quite a bit, as it turned out! They advised me that my father had more followers than I had thought, as he was the only alternative to the Unalloyed Church. They found that concerning. My role was to endorse everything Patriarch Mettatal did, help him unite the entire clan, and prepare for our new mission. In exchange for waving at crowds, endorsing what the Church did and reading whatever speech they put in front of me. In exchange, I at least lived like a King and got to look the part. As part of looking that part and keeping me under lock and key, Faenor Superior Vanyra Silvernail had me marry her daughter Gemma Silvernail. Up until that point, I had been willing to do or say anything but having a wife forced on me was just too much. So of course I married her and gave her two sons. We both hated each other, me because I was forced to do something I didn’t want to do, and her because of her complete lack of respect for me.

This did not go well, and while I was “King”, she ruled me. I resented it, but I felt lucky to have my title at all with how the lines had blurred between the Unalloyed Church and the Royal Line. Still though, if I had anything at all, it was defiance. Taking to heart her constant charges of my incompetence and lack of any real skills or refinement, I forced myself to read our histories and on any other subject I could. Sciences, theology, smithing and such. My co-conspirator in this was Valina Glanrak, a young librarian in our Archives. She would sneak me books or allow me into the archives to dig around, and I spent years reading. I can’t say any of it actually made me think, but it made me curious. It also taught me to respect my Crown and my family name. The best defiance at this point was relevance, at this point.

What came next required a bit of persuasion. In order to be a better figurehead, I had to do something to earn respect. Mettetal had long been dissatisfied, because most ignored me and my father’s supporters ignored me as a disgrace. After many years, my symbolism was losing value and I was worried I might have some plot hanged around my neck and executed. So I requested training at arms, and while I knew the basics, years of study with General Barakas Montaiden, taught me much. He was my uncle, after all. He had little interest in religion or politics, and lived to serve his Clan and men. Several years later, I would march out with the Iron Legions as an officer to fight in one of the border skirmishes we frequently fought. I think Mettetal thought it would be a great way to get me killed, and the soldiers that served with me were none too thrilled to have me with them. The one thing that saved my life was that Barakas assigned his brother, Genar, to serve with me. He was an old dwarf at the time, with a long white beard and had seen much in his life. We became close, and for the first time, I had a mentor. I learned much about living, and surviving, from him. The fact he saved my life half a dozen times certainly helped. After years of service with the Legions, I finally did start to gain a reputation as a capable leader. That was when I started to gain some attention from other places. I might be worth something after all” he says and smiles slightly at that part.

[mshady]

“Have you ever hear the saying ‘The nail that stands up gets hammered down’?” the Patriarch asks and reclines in his chair a bit. The large stone chair makes the dwarf look smaller in its embrace, but his presence remains large. He takes a pull on his cigar and looks up at the ceiling for a moment.

“Well, I was the nail and I was about to meet the hammer. There was a fine line between usefulness and relevance, and I crossed that line in my quest to become useful. I was never a great commander, but I survived the fights I was in. Like any good officer, I let the most experienced soldiers lead the battle, but my name grew anyways. All credit was given to me, but in truth it should have all gone to Genar. At first, I felt ashamed or unworthy of the credit but few of the soldiers minded. It occurred to me that they wanted me to take credit, that they wanted their King to be King. Could be my father’s supporters?

I did not know, but Mettetal and Gemma knew enough, and they warned me to respect my role here. Soon, I found myself removed from the Legions and returned to my duties as an echo of Mettetal and attending to formalities he was too busy to attend. What better way to control my reputation? I figured my military service had been an attempt to get me killed, and that attempt had got other dwarves killed in my place, so leaving was a relief. So I continued my studies with Valina and my resentment deepened, especially towards my wife who tried so carefully to manage my life and appearance. I had my acts of rebellion, such as fumbling a speech or being late for something. That I was being watched was increasingly obvious.

The greatest restraint and motivation though was that I was a father of two sons, Davos and Thuron. Of the many things I could never pry from my wife were my children. While she left the rearing of them as infants to care takers, when they were old enough for education, she jumped right into that role while I was off sulking. While I had no power as a King, I could have had power as a father, but why would I have an interest in children I did not want with a wife that was forced on me? So Davos and Thuron were raised in the religious schools of the Unalloyed Church and grew to resent their father as much as I resented them at the time. By the time it dawned on me that being a father overshadowed however it came about, it was too late. They were both young men, with Davos in the Unalloyed Church and Thuron a leader in the Iron Order and both favorites of Mettetal and The Old Crone, Vanyra Silvernail. My sons were married off as soon as they were of age, and I was merely a guest at the ceremony. The Unalloyed Church was powerful, but one cannot simply deny a father the right to attend his own son’s weddings. It was when I returned from a decade with the Legions that I finally talked to my two sons, now men, and tried to explain myself. There is little more unmanning in life than the pity of your children, or their scorn, but at least we talked” the Patriarch stops and frowns for a moment, taking a puff from his cigar. He seems distant again, lost in a memory for a moment.

“Well, that should sufficiently set the stage, I think. Most of the players, if not the details of some of the things we had been up to since Thurgar left.” he says and sits silently. “As I mentioned, I had studied with Valina for quite some time in relative secret. During that time, she had progressed from a clerk to a head archivist. She ordered the stacks of religious and historical texts, some of our treasures and such. You may not know it now, but that joyful and capable woman who fought with the Forgemark Brotherhood across the Sword Coast was once a thin, stuttering book worm and one of the few who bothered to read what we had archived. Technically part of the Silver Order, she fell under the protection of my Aunt Morna. I did not know it for many years, but Valina was the daughter that Morna could never have had. I had always wondered why she took the risks she did, and survived them, but I did not ask until she told me. Soon thereafter, she introduced me to my Aunt Morna.

I met my Aunt Morna deep in the old aqueducts under our Halls, in a place so remote I never knew existed under our noses. She was older now, but the most regal woman I had ever met as she stood there in her silver armor. Of course, I knew her from afar but she had always pointedly ignored me. With what the family had done to her, I did not question it. One cannot expect someone to forgive being sterilized and impressed into service over family politics, Royal or not. What she told me changed much.

Morna told me that many in the Clan resented the Unalloyed Church, but were too afraid to stand up against it. They had seen what happened to anyone suspected of treason, or the Cult of Thurgar and feared the wrath. There were hundreds of dwarves who wanted the theocracy of the Unalloyed Church removed and for the Clan to return to the surface to make peace with the Gods. What they were waiting for was a leader.

She also said she could pledge the support of the Silver Order at the right time. Any woman of age would be married off as soon as possible, as arranged by the Church of Berronar. If a woman could not bear children though, it was grounds for annulment of that marriage. By the Decree of Orders, all women must serve either their husbands or their Clan. The result was my father’s reforms and his father’s had largely been erased. It also meant that the Silver Order was quite a few women in the Order that hated the order of things. Morna was the ideal leader for them, and few hated the system more than she.

Did I mention how impossibly brave she was? If I had chosen to, I could had her and Valina executed for treason. However dissatisfied I was, the thought of rebellion had never really crossed my mind. I had long ago accepted the order of things and saw no reason to disbelieve the Unalloyed Church on religious matters. Why would I? It was the only view I had ever heard during my entire life, but for the first time I actually doubted it.

Mostly though, I wanted to return the power of the King so there would be a check on the excesses of the Unalloyed Church. It was a big decision, about the only real decision I had made in life. I thought this could be an elaborate trap, that before I agreed to anything, I needed to know more about my supporters, what assets did we have, many other questions I should have asked.

Instead, I immediately just told her yes. She had my wholehearted support, my full faith and confidence and I would do everything I could. The words surprised me, but what did I have to lose? Nothing really, I had lost my own children even. Morna did not question me, just said that if that was the case, she wanted to introduce me to someone. She whistled and a moment later, another dwarf walked out from behind a wall where he had been listening to the conversation. I recognized the dwarf immediately, with a black cloak, a short beard and fierce eyes and it sent a chill down my back. It all must have been a trap!

Instead of drawing a sword, he walked up to me and bent knee before me and asked for my blessing as King. I did so, more surprised than anything else. He stood and bowed again with quite a flourish and smiled at me, setting my own heart at ease.

I’m sure all of ye know him, for this was Buehler Granvil. At the time, he was the Master of Scouts and one of the feared investigators of the Unalloyed Church. To say I was shocked was an understatement. He explained that he was one of the leaders of the resistance and that he had been watching me for years. He told me what he thought of me in no uncertain terms, but that he respected the learning I had done and training to be a warrior and a leader. Barakas and Genar had been supporters as well, but not at first. While they commanded the Iron Legion, they could not count on the Legions support if anything happened. He also made it clear that to me my role was to be a figurehead for the people, but he and Morna would be leading things in reality. That was hard to argue with, but it was clear Buehler wanted me mainly for my title. What could I say? There was one other thing that he needed me for as well, to cause a rift between my wife Gemma and her sister Glorian. That part, I knew exactly how to handle” Hignar says and smiles.

“I left that meeting knowing what I had to do, but I had my reservations. This was unprecedented, it was dangerous and I hoped Patriarch Mettetal would be willing to compromise. As I said, for the first time I had doubts. If the Unalloyed Church was to be discredited, I told Buehler that we would have to find some kind of proof they were in error. We could leverage that to reform it and return to the surface. He told me he had something in mind, but left it at that.

A few days later, I started my part. I knew that Glorian hated her sister as much as I did, and she had made advances on me before simply to spite her sister. All I really had to do was to stop resisting that, to tell her about my frustrations and she shared hers. Glorian too had been put into a political marriage, and it was not a happy one. She resented the Unalloyed Church and her mother for forcing her daughter into training with the Church, how she barely seen her. So yes, I had an affair with my wife’s sister. Not proud of it, but it was needed. Glorian despised the system for what it had done to her and her sister’s hand in that, and we needed her. She was a powerful mage and we needed her, as we lacked in that area if it came to open conflict as it might.

The plan was to humble the Unalloyed Church at worst or subordinate it at best to the King. With them tamed, we wanted to move the Clan to the surface. Glorian would be the new Queen, something we both wanted out of this because of the sense, not for any affection really. Not how it all worked out, though…”

[mshady]

Plotting Together

“Yes, I’d say that’s an understatement” the Patriarch chuckles, but it is more a sad laugh. “It was finally time to meet and put the shaft on the hammer. We had to recruit Glorian to act against her sister. They were two of our most powerful Arcanii, and we needed at least one on our side to stand a chance.

Her and I had talked much over the last year. With Buehler’s coaching, I had nurtured her resentments and talked about how I wanted to leave her sister for her, how I was trapped, and of all the power her sister had over me and within the Church. The implication being, of course, that Glorian would have what her elder sister had. It was not that Glorian was without power, she had quite a bit. What she could not abide was being second to her sister in everything, and it was a very, very distant second.

Truthfully, she was the more talented of the two in many ways but Gemma was born first and her mother's favorite. Her efforts at the 4th and 5th battles of Throg’s Neck and the 12th battle of Breakneck Pass were legendary in their violence. At the 12th, she stood in front of the Iron Legion and Silver Order with a Circle of Arcanii and laid waste to near a thousand screaming orcs. The smoke of the burning bodies was enough to drive both sides out of that pass. I had never seen so much light in my entire life, not until I saw the sun itself. The woman frightened me. The thought of her against us was more frightening” the Patriarch says, and let his words sink in.

"One night, I told her that I just could not take how things were anymore. I confessed that others had approached me about changes, but I was not sure what to do but I felt there were enough to make a change. To returns things to the natural order. Glorian immediately pushed me to go to the meeting I was trying to get her to go to, and that she had some supporters too. Her most important supporter was my nephew Tolrin Jilker, a high ranking but disillusioned member of the Unalloyed Church and second in command of the Iron Rune. He always liked to stay busy, that one. So we all met with Glorian, and we all shared our reasons. We discussed the goal of changing things, of Glorian becoming the new Jilker Queen and moving all of us to the surface. Her only real condition was that, before we go to the surface, we must undertake a mission to destroy Thurgar and she wanted to take General Torthic with her, along with her sister if she survived. I think we were all surprised by that, and moreso when Morna immediately pledged her support for that. It made some sense, for no one hated Thurgar more than the women of the Clan who had been exploited so.

If we were going to bring the Clan with us though, we had to try to undermine the Unalloyed Church. As bad as things were, we were all dwarves. Both Morna and I insisted we try to convince them there was a better way. All of us were faithful, but we had become convinced the thing were doing wrong was not a lack of belief but our Way of it. This was where Buehler’s mission came in. General Barakas officially sent the scouts to check out a clan of orcs in our area, which was a considerable forgery as we had killed most of them by now.

Instead, they spent a month’s time trying to make their way to the surface to try to find other dwarves, to talk to their priests and gather some of their Holy Books. Valina would go with them, and we found ways to hide her absence as well. No one really checked the Archives besides the Archivists at this point. What did we care about our old life? Valina had though, and that made her our foremost expert on the surface we had never seen before. All told, they were gone six months, and that was long even for our scouts. My nephew Tolrin Jilker was instrumental in the preparations so that their absence would not be missed, especially Valina. She had her assigned as his secretary or some such thing. Still, they were our eyes and ears, and while some eyebrows were raised and questions asked, many in the Clan prayed for their safe return and looked after their families. None of them knew most of those same scouts were some of the Unalloyed Church’s best spies and enforcers, because of the masks they wore while performing their duties.

When they did return, they did so quietly and came to the Jilker Palace at the foot of our pillar. They had boxes of books and notes, and I sat down with Buehler, Valina and the scouts for days studying it all. How wrong we had been! All of the Gods of the Moradinsamman were worshipped, Dumathion was the patron of the Shield Dwarves and while Moradin was revered, it was as a more of a grandfather, a patriarch of the dwarven family. There had been a Thunder Blessing, where more of our women had children and many of them were twins as Moradin recognized his children were in trouble and had to repopulate their old Halls. Gods had rose and fell during the very recent Time of Troubles. The Tethyamar Halls had fallen to hordes of monsters and only a few survived. So much had changed! I spent days reading the summaries Valina had written.

In my enthusiasm though, I erred. I had summoned Gemma and our children without consulting Buehler, and bid him and his scouts to repeat what they had learned on the surface. It was so compelling, I was sure that it would convince her! We could avoid everything and move back to the surface in peace. She sat and listened for hours, fascinated by Buehler’s tales. We ordered ale and feasted with him as he told of his travels, making sure to leave Valina out of them, but sharing all the same. She agreed with me, that what Buehler had learned changed our worldview profoundly. There was redemption out there for us after all, and we finally knew how to attain it. I told her we must share this news ourselves, that we had to show the Unalloyed Church and force them to see instead of depending on them to come to the same conclusions. They would have to embrace the news or become discredited. We dismissed Buehler and for one of the first times ever, we seemed in agreement, joyful even and made love in celebration.

While we celebrated though, Buehler and his scouts were asked to rest in the Palace before the big speech the next day in our central plaza in the center of the four pillars. Her followers broke into those quarters, surrounded them and killed the scouts. Buehler only survived the blood bath because he had just stepped into the privy and escaped by breaking into the sewers. All told, twenty of those brave men and woman were slaughtered in the name of the Unalloyed Church and Gemma. The commander of that detachment was Tolrin himself. He had no choice but to execute his orders for risk of his own discovery, but there is a wound there between Buehler and Tolrin that will never heal there.

When I was startled out of my sleep, I was greeted by a smug looking Gemma, my two sons Davos and Thuron, Tolrin and a couple of guards. They shackled and said I was to be charged with heresy and treason, excessively enough, and would be denounced central plaza. After that, I would be publically placed in a mold to be filled with bronze and be displayed as a heretic for eternity. I remember thinking at the time that I was glad I would be given a traditional execution, at least. I was certainly confused by what Tolrin was doing, and I was hauled away, he and my two sons informed me about how Buehler’s scouts were executed. When Tolrin told me Buehler escaped though, my sinking heart was lifted up with some hope.

After that, I was thrown into a water soaked oubliette to contemplate my sins. It was filled with snakes and stank horribly from the bodies of others that had died in there. A day went by and no one came for me though, and I figured something must be happening. I spent the next three days praying, hoping someone would bring me food before I was forced to catch my own..."

[mshady]

Stopping for a moment, the Patriarch holds up his hand and smiles at the group.

“I promise, I almost be done here. There are so many details that I think ye should know, to understand what’s going on and why I had ye do what ye did. It is also difficult, and perhaps I deflect a bit? Only my closest friends have heard that story, and most of them are dead or gone” he says, gesturing to some of the pictures on the wall. The paintings or sketches all seem well done, and the most prominent of them include a fire haired dwarf with a name plate of Babras, an elf druid, a rough looking man in the robes of a War Wizard of Cormyr and two elves, one dressed in green robes and the other in blue plate mail. They are holding a small child. All told, there must be two dozen pictures in the dining room gallery. Some of the pictures are accompanied by weapons, shields or articles of clothing.

“When the door finally swung open, I was greeted by Valina and Buehler, along with some soldiers in the black and gold of the Iron Legions. I was told we had to leave quickly, and so we did. We made our way out of the dungeons, the last part of the way with a bit of magic Buehler somehow knew. We moved carefully through the streets. There were soldiers everywhere, and quite a few bodies. Fires burned in some areas. There was chaos. While Valina and Buehler aided my escape, they said little to me. My enthusiasm had clouded my judgment, and what we hoped would be a quick coup turned into street warfare. The sight nearly brought me to tears.
We put on disguises that Buehler had left in safe house and got closer to the center of our Citadel. I should explain how our Citadel was laid out a bit. Our clan halls sat on a large butte in the middle of the Underdark. It was our island of stone, and we turned it into a fortress. Great stone bridges connected it to the surrounding areas and the mines. I can’t imagine a more impregnable fortress truly. In the center of it were four columns of dark stone with veins of gold running through it. Those four columns were carved into and they served as the homes of the Unalloyed Church, the Iron Rune and Order, the Silver Rune and Orders and the Jilker Royal Hall. These were the four pillars, and the Unalloyed Church was in the first pillar. Attached to it was our great Cathedral. It took us a hundred years to complete it, such was its magnificence.

Anyways, the pillars were surrounded by soldiers but we got past the check points with our disguises and papers. No small feat, but Buehler is resourceful. The Royal Palace was burning, and the Great Cathedral was surrounded. Morna and Barakas had gone ahead and attacked when Tolrin told them what happened, and they held Patriarch Mettetal. Surrounded as it was, no one expected someone to try and get in. Down we went into the sewers and several hours later, we were inside the Cathedral once again. We all smelled awful, but were welcomed all the same. Well, Valina and Buehler were. Not so much me.

I was quietly lead away into the rectory and I was confronted by Glorian. She threw a bucket of cold water on me to wash off the filth so she could stand to be in my presence and accosted for my stupidity. She personally accused me of betraying the promises I made to her. As the plan was rushed, many of our supporters were dead and now Buehler wanted to kill Tolrin. Glorian said that our only hope of survival now was to flee into the Underdark, and she never would have supported us if we were going to be exiled from the Clan but she could never go back now. She kept screaming at me how she had lost everything, how she would never see her daughter again, see her home or her library of books and scrolls. How could I have ever trusted her sister? It was all a disaster, it was my fault and they should have left me to die” Hignar says and stops.

He takes a drink from his stein and quickly refills it again. His words have a slight slur to them now and his voice has softened considerably.

“Of course, she was right. Hearing her unload on me and nearly broken made me wish they had left me to die. I thought she might kill me in there, and Buehler later told me they had all agreed that if Glorian had, she was in her rights. I had cost her everything she ever valued, short of her life. I had cost others their lives, and when the Unalloyed Church was done, likely their families too. She didn’t kill me though, but she hit me enough to put me on the ground and left me in a heap. I was thankful.

When I recovered, I walked back into the Cathedral and found the survivors discussing what to do next. I listened, but no one wanted to hear what I had to say. With Mettetal as our prisoner, we were safe for the moment. They had him locked up in a cell, a monk’s cell not a jail cell if there is a distinction there. I went to go see him while the others talked. I repeated a summary of what Buehler had learned, how we were wrong and had to change, how we could return to the surface. He challenged everything I had to say, called it a forgery and a pretext for a coup and how it was wrong of me to challenge the order of the Clan. He went on to tell me how worthless I was, a shame to my name, and so on. I left quickly enough, having no stomach for more harsh words, but I was thoroughly convinced the man was completely incapable of changing his mind of the matter. The same stupid tunnel thinking that got us to where we were. Either that, or maybe he knew how the truth would destroy the Church. In fairness, if he was ever of a reasonable mind, pushing him into a corner forced him to react.

When I returned, the others told me that we were making plans to leave immediately. General Torthic had been roused and was outside the Cathedral. They were threatening to send him in after us, and we all knew what that meant: death. The only way to deal with General Torthic, if he engaged us, was to avoid him. As powerful as he was, he was slow. We had a better chance making a run for it. So we made our preparations quickly to leave, and grabbed Mettetal to use as a shield. All that was left were the main plotters, about a Century of Silver Order soldiers, some Iron Order and Iron Rune soldiers, and Glorian’s Iron Golem. We had the Forgemark Crown and the Hammer Staff of Moradin as well, and the staff held great power if you knew how to use it; which none of us did. The plan was to make our way to Thogan’s Bridge, the main bridge from our stone island, and try to follow Buehler’s map to the surface. That bridge was very close to the Cathedral, we only had to get through the blockade and a gate house.

There were no good choices here.

We did not lack for numbers, but with most of the rest of the Clan outside, we were outnumbered. A hundred or so of Morna’s Silver Order remained. A few of the more elite officers and sergeants that composed their retinue had survived, a couple other Arcanii and that was it besides us ring leaders.
When the doors to the cathedral swung open, we stood behind Glorian’s golem. It held two massive iron doors together like a shield, and were surrounded by a battery of protective spells. It got us out the door, for we were greeted by a barrage of crossbows and magic. Weathering that, someone on their side called for a cease fire and we stopped maybe 50 feet from the Cathedral? I didn’t stop and measure.

Neither side really knew what to do. They had numbers on us and powerful Arcanii, including Gemma and her mother. We had Glorian though, and that was enough to scare anyone. That we held Mettetal and the Hammer Staff of Moradin though, that meant they were not going to risk an attack right off. We had hoped that.

So a white flag was raised, and as the most expendable of the group, I met Gemma in the middle of the two forces. In case they just decided to kill me, it would be no great loss and I couldn’t disagree. I offered to exchange Mettetal for safe passage, but she refused. She demanded the Hammer Staff, of course. Not even Mettetal was as important as that old staff to them, but to us at this point? It was just leverage. Glorian had made it clear that was my only value to anyone else too, and in my shame I had to agree. We were at an impasse, and an impasse meant they were going to attack. The death toll from that, with all of us in such close quarters, would be horrific and could collapse the Pillars"

[mshady]

Into Exile

The Patriarch stops and downs another drink in two draughts before refilling it again. The old dwarf was getting well into his cups, and seemed a bit more drowsy with every drink. As the story got more painful for him, it seemed only the ale could keep things moving forward for him.

"I knew my wife now. I had thought I did before, but I certainly did now. She also knew me all too well. As I knew she had no hesitation about running risks with the lives of others over something like this, she knew me as weak and that I would rather sacrifice myself than allow that. Hell of a negotiating frame work.

Standing between both forces, King and Queen came to their last accord. We would be allowed to leave by way of Thogan’s Bridge to escape to the Underdark, never to return under pain of death under two conditions. That we had to turn over Mettetal was a given. We were all sick of hearing his sermons before we spent days locked up with him. No one wanted to take him with us anyways, but it wouldn’t be right to kill him. The catch was the Hammer Staff. We could not just give it up and they could not let it leave. It was agreed that a duel would be fought, between our champion and theirs in a Trial of Possession for it. Before we parted, we both removed our wedding bands and left them on the stone. As awful as everything else had been, that moment made me profoundly… sad.

Of course, I named myself champion for our cause. How could I ask someone else to fight and die after what I did? Gemma knew that. She knew me well, and she knew my own skills at arms were modest at best. She would get the Hammer Staff back, and a public execution of the King, but the others would survive at least. It’s what a good King would do for his people. For once, I tried to do something right. So the deal was struck we marched for the bridge. It was slow and very tense, with our former comrades hurling insults and charges of heresy and treason at us.
When we arrived at the bridge, Barakas ordered everyone to take up a defensive stance and I bid farewell to everyone. Genar gave me a stern hug and a sad smile, but the most I received from the rest was a hand shake and a stiff smile as I went off to my execution. The last to bid me farewell was Glorian, who slapped me and said she hoped I died painfully. She drifted to the edge of the formation and tried to get her daughter’s attention, but was ignored. So I walked away from my erstwhile allies for the execution that both sides wanted to see, with the Hammer Staff of Moradin in my hand.

I walked to the center of the road and set the staff against pinned the Staff into the ground, piercing stone with it. The Staff made a loud booming sound when it struck the ground, and it startled me. The sound rolled through the caverns, the harmonic sound of ringing metal. I kneeled and placed my hands on it before praying. I prayed to Moradin for forgiveness for my Clan and to protect my allies as they escaped into the Underdark. I felt a strange sensation from the Staff, a feeling of understanding and pity but little else. I also felt at that moment that the Staff was worth fighting for, that I could not leave it with heretics. With little else to say, I stood up and faced my opponent, momentarily flustered by the emotions I felt from the Staff.

It was my son, Thuron.

We both stood facing each other, an axe in my hand and a hammer in his hand. It was not just any hammer, but Heretic’s Bane, an ancient weapon of our Clan. I knew of it enough to know it could kill me with one blow, but having to might my own son? That was already a terrible blow. Still though, I had to fight Thuron. It would be dishonorable not to fight, and if I could do anything for him, it would be to let others see him fight a heroic battle against his father for the greatest relic of our Clan. We circled each other for a bit, and he asked me if I wanted to apologize for my heresy and betrayal of our Clan and Family. I told him I had nothing to apologize for but not being a better father to him. I told him that I was convinced we had followed the wrong path in our faith, that we had done this to ourselves and must repent our sins not impose ourselves on the surface Clans.

Thuron told me I was wicked, deceitful and all of those books and notes were a forgery so heretics could overthrow the Church and I was the greatest fool that had ever wore the crown. He was ashamed to be my son. After that, he slammed the face plate of his helmet down and came at me. We fought, and it was hardly a contest. He was younger and had decades of training at arms, with better armor and a legendary weapon. I fought back though, and while I could tell he restrained the weapon’s power, he hit me again and again. I felt bones break, my nose and jaw was broken and my head rang like a bell, but I sent one lumbering blow after another against him, only to be pounded again and again with that hammer. When I could take no more, I collapsed to the ground and I could not beg for mercy if I wanted to.

Thuron stood over me and faced his side of the Clan. He denounced me and took the staff, raising it high over his head to display it to the cheers of his fellow dwarves. He was never one to be showy I suppose, but only a fool would fail to recognize the power of that moment.

Or a God.

Where I was wracked with pain and barely conscious, I felt a sudden surge of energy in my body. It was such a powerful, good, feeling it was both ecstasy and agony at the same time. My bones were mended, my pain gone, and my body had taken a shining, metallic appearance, a beard of silver chain and a surge of power like I had never felt before. A golden aura surrounded me suddenly, illuminating the cavern and it caused my son to turn his gaze from me. They say at that moment, I looked like Moradin himself. I could hear the collective, audible, gasp from both sides as I stood there looking at my son holding that Staff. He looked up at me and opened his helmet so I could see him.

Thuron said to me, ‘Father, how could we have been so wrong?’ he asked me. ‘Father, I am so sorry for doubting you. Strike me down and show them all the power of your righteousness, of Moradin’s true blessing. Take the Staff and go. It belongs with you, not us’.

He removed his helmet and looked at his comrades and said, ‘Behold Moradin’s blessing! My father has found our faith again!’. Thuron removed his helmet and kneeled before me, looking down at the ground. With everyone watching, I stood to the side of my son. I told him I forgave him and would always pray for him. We both understood that if quit our duel, someone else would have to stand for him and die in his place, quite likely my other son. So I did what I had to do.

Without hesitating, because if I did I knew I could not do it otherwise, I swung that axe and took my son’s head” the Patriarch stops abruptly and bites his lip, while blinking away tears. He had lived with it too long to sob, but the telling was still quite painful for him.

“With my son dead, I dropped my axe and took up both the Hammer Staff of Moradin and Heretic's Bane in my hands. I returned to my own allies. I never looked back as we crossed that bridge and left my home.

I did not say anything to them, nor them to me, as we left. They were just as stunned by this unexpected blessing as was I.

I vowed to never wield another axe in anger again. I vowed never to wear a beard again, because of the shame of killing my son.

Most of all, I swore to return one day and lead my Clan back to their true faith or end them, for they were too dangerous to ignore. So is up to us, the 7th Patriarchate of Moradin, to make sure they are saved or put down before they do to the rest of the dwarven race what they did to their own

Thus is the tale of Clan Jilker, as far as I know it. It is how I became the Chosen of Moradin. By sacrificing my own son to show the rest of the Clan the error of their ways and that Moradin would return to them if they truly followed him, as I did in that moment.”

[mshady]

The Patriarch sits and looks at each of you in the group, from Wyatt to Arman and all the dwarves. He slowly reaches for the ale again and refills his stein, before taking another drink from it. He wipes the froth off his moustache and smiles tiredly at the group.

"Again, my apologies for the long tale. I hope not over long. From that tale, I hope you understand us better, who you serve and what you saw. Also, know that while I am Patriarch, I am far from perfect or wise at times. Some things must have been difficult to make sense of without context I suppose.

I ask that you keep this tale to yourselves, but I felt I owed it to you after all you had done for us and what may be asked of ye in the future. If everyone knew the whole story, the shame of it would be difficult to bear and it is hard to judge how others would react to it. While I seek to put right the wrongs I find in the world, addressing the wrongs of my old home are our foremost concern.

That is why we must proceed more carefully, more conservatively, than ever before. They are on the move now, after many years, and I would hate to draw their attention to places like the Tethyamar Halls, for they would tear it down for the role it played in our fall from grace. If anyone has questions about anything, by all means please ask. Otherwise I think it is nearing time for my retirement"

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Johannes let out a polite but heartfelt dissent against the notion of the Patriarch abdicating his position. It would seem that the last thing that the Jilkers needed was more jockeying for position, more chaos.

"My lord, sorrow shared is sorrow lessened. And...I am no minstrel, but I can assure you that, since most of this is already public knowledge, adding a little more of your own experiences and trials would only make your people love you more. Still, it is your story to tell, and not mine."

[Grodech]

Johannes

Johannes let out a polite but heartfelt dissent against the notion of the Patriarch abdicating his position. It would seem that the last thing that the Jilkers needed was more jockeying for position, more chaos.


I think he meant it was time for him to go to bed, not retire his position.

[BelGareth]

Kal finishes slurping a cup of wine and grabs another leg of something or other, he had eaten a prodigious amount and his belly was beginning to bulge slightly, the rough sewn clothes forced upon him having a hard time keeping it in.

Burping he looked around with the bone in his mouth, figuring that the awkward moment of silence was still present and not caring.

"that is indeed a mighty tale, Patriarch, you have surely been through a lot, your soul is what we would call in the forest as an ancient one, one who has experienced the spectrum of the balance, you have known irreverence, acted slothfully and innocently, but you have also acted honorably, known true loss and know truth currently. When I listen to your words, it is not hard to hear the power and divine guidance therein, you have been touched by the gods, and it is obvious. I am no dwarf, and I am no stout follower of yours, but." he pauses, gets up and bows down to the dwarf, almost all the way to the floor, "you have my arms, legs and breathe, I am honored to be among these fine dwarves and your presence, I would be honored to serve under you, Ancient one."

He stands and sits back down, taking up the leg he was chewing on, as if nothing had happened. All signs of complex vernacular and ettiquette gone, the half orc continues to release a fart as he leans over to grab some more wine.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek bows deeply to Hignar as he finishes his tale, and helps himself to a last tankard. While the beginnings of the tale were of more interest to his logical scholarly side, the last stretch of it was emotionally wracking even to a listener, and he could see the effect it had on a man he had recently faced the next best thing to a god without flinching

It is an honour that you've trusted us with this tale Sire. We'll leave you to your rest, and go find ours, I will be at your disposal tomorrow if you need anything passed on to the Thanes of Mirabar when I go there. As Johanness said, the best shield against falsehoods is the truth, or at least a... less compromising version of it

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt was taken with the tale of Hignar, and was listening intently the entire way. He shook his head slightly at the end, not in disappointment but in disbelief.

"I gotta hand it to ya... you've dealt with a lot of crap, and you know your stuff, and here you are, still kickin'. It's not often I get to listen to such a story. Makes my life sound kinda dull, haha! Just a shame we can't share it, but I'll keep it to myself. Thanks for... well, everything, really. The hospitality, the stories..."

He nodded to Thordrek, stretching a bit and taking a last bit of food, whatever was closest, to nibble on. "I can tell 'dis story means a lot to you and it's taken its toll on ya... understandably. I've got nothin' to say. What CAN I say, other 'dan what has already? I'll leave you to your rest if the others have nothin' either."

[Grodech]

Grathalmor didn't have much to say. He was still absorbing all of it, and he really didn't have anything different than what the others were already saying. To say his faith in their patriarch had once again found solid footing would be an understatement. All thoughts of leaving them now were gone, though he still didn't relish the fact that they would have to face a dwarven civil war.

He turned to Nalrak and says "I suppose 'dis means I owe Beuhler an apology."

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Having joined the Patriarch in every drink, the Alaghor was feeling good. But the tale spun by Hignar had run through a wide course of emotions, both for the teller and the listener. Certainly not as deeply felt, yet he shared the sorrow and shame described, and still seen on the face of his leader. He intuitively understood why this was not widespread knowledge before such an explanation became explicit, and nodded his solemn agreement to keep it to himself. Still, the stirring conclusion to this point left him more convinced than ever that he was serving a worthy cause.

If it came to fighting other dwarves, which seemed inevitable to him now, he swore a silent oath to Clangeddin that he'd be in the forefront against the Unalloyed Church fanatics, ready to split skulls as needed to prove how wrong headed they were. After all, letting such brains that could hold such a wrong headed philosophy leak out would serve dwarves of the future well, he was certain of that.

As for questions, most that he still had seemed trivial at this point. Only one stood out to him, and he voiced it in a deep yet soft tone, "And what became o'da mighty Hammer, Heretic's Bane?"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The doctor sits in stunned silence as he becomes aware of just how inevitable war with the Unalloyed was. The words of the Patriarch echoed in his head: There was redemption out there for us after all... And yet, when redemption had been offered, the zealots had refused it--denied it, even. Could anything bring them back from that? Nalrak desperately wanted to believe that redemption was available to all, but a nagging sensation in his heart reminded him what fate awaited those that knew the truth and denied it all the same.

They were a cancer, and if left unchecked they could spread and kill the whole body. If it was caught early enough, cancer could be treated with strong enough magics which left the body weak, but alive. However, once it insinuated itself around a subject's vital organs, the only hope of eradicating it was a bit more invasive--and even then, there was no guarantee. Sometimes, though, you have to harm your patients in order to have any chance of healing them. The unrepentant heart of the Unalloyed had been beating now for generations, each artery carrying cancerous cells farther and farther out into the body of Moradin's children. If there was any hope of saving any dwarves, surgical intervention was needed now. They needed to remove the infected mass; they would need to debulk the tumor that was the Unalloyed Church.

Nalrak curses himself for thinking of fellow dwarves in such derogatory terms, but from the length and depth of Hignar's tale, he knew that their hearts had hardened beyond salvation long ago. The implications hit Nalrak like an incision without anesthesia. He had long insisted on diplomacy, foolishly assuming that it had not previously been attempted or had not been done with pure motives. From the Patriarch's tale, though, it was clear that generation upon generation had tried and failed to resolve the rift between the clans, both bloodlessly and otherwise. Hignar had exhausted the path of diplomacy himself, and when that failed he had traveled the path of ultimate sacrifice. He offered his own life for the redemption of his people, and Hignar's son had given his own for the cause as well. He is now able to contemplate the killing of Moradin's children because he knows the price...he had been forced to slay his own son. This was not a cold calculation for Hignar, but a reliving of one of his deepest regrets. Nalrak saw in Hignar the same emotions that welled in himself when thinking of the Stoneburner, and even farther back to the fire at his family's brewery: shame, pain, and loss. Nalrak looks for words to console the monarch, but thinks better of it. Sometimes, the best response is humble silence.

Nalrak exchanges a sad smile with the King, and wordlessly allows him to take his leave of them. As Hignar leaves the table, Nalrak sits and stews. What do you do when you're dead-set against war, but it's the only option? You suffer to prevent others from suffering, fight to protect them from fighting. Nalrak thinks to himself. You sacrifice yourself if necessary to protect others from the same agony...much like Hignar was prepared to. That is the lot of a caring father. Such is the will of the gods. Nalrak's allegiance was to the gods first and foremost, and it was clear they had blessed the Patriarch to act as their agent. Nalrak would continue to serve on his behalf, even if that meant setting off another score of Stoneburners. The good doctor shudders at the thought, but prepares himself for the possibility of it. It was times like this that a small part of him wished he hadn't given up drinking.


"I suppose 'dis means I owe Beuhler an apology."

Grath's words break Nalrak out of his silent contemplation. "You and me both, cousin," he mutters. "You and me both."

[Grodech]

Another thought came to Grathalmor's mind, and he voiced the question. "Afore you left, had 'da Unalloyed dabbled in consorting with demons, or is dat a new development? Down below, dey used both demons and undead ta try an' stop us."

[mshady]

Johannes

Johannes let out a polite but heartfelt dissent against the notion of the Patriarch abdicating his position. It would seem that the last thing that the Jilkers needed was more jockeying for position, more chaos.

"My lord, sorrow shared is sorrow lessened. And...I am no minstrel, but I can assure you that, since most of this is already public knowledge, adding a little more of your own experiences and trials would only make your people love you more. Still, it is your story to tell, and not mine."

Hignar to Johannes

Hignar rubs the bridge of his nose and shakes his head in response to Johannes' suggestion.

"In part, that is why I am sharing this story with your group. It was payment due, but also I wanted to see how it would be taken. Still though, I'll hold on to this awhile longer. Our clan, and the rest of them, need to see their Patriarch as a great hero, a leader, a shining light. Not a slothful alcoholic who cheated on his wife with her own sister for political reasons, caused his friends to be killed, slayed his own son and was once a leader of a bunch of dangerous heretics. The truth may set you free, but it can also hurt" he says and pauses. "I suppose, after all this, that is how I still see myself and am still somewhat..amazed about where I am. I know the rest of my Brotherhood is. It's... not the point of contention it once was, but it's still there"


OOC: More to come, lost internet connection!

[mshady]

Hignar to Kal-Resh


He stands and sits back down, taking up the leg he was chewing on, as if nothing had happened. All signs of complex vernacular and ettiquette gone, the half orc continues to release a fart as he leans over to grab some more wine.

The Patriarch raises an eye brow slightly, noticing how the savage half orc slipped in and out of a respectful diction. The look was there and gone in a moment, as if he had mentally filed the observation under the "he might be smarter than he looks" folder.

"I appreciate your pledge, honorable one. Sincerely, I hope that pledge does not take limb or breathe from you. I consider myself honored to accept your pledge, and that we do not have common cause besides the rightness of it. Or, I reckon, restor'n the balance of things?" Hignar says and smiles slightly, tipping his head respectfully in Kal-resh's direction.

"Thank you" Hignar says, in a language none but Kal-resh understand. It is the secret language of the druids, and Hignar chuckles at Kal-resh's perhaps surprised reaction.

"My God-daughter is a druid. Has a Circle of her own. Been many years now since I saw her, but I insisted she tell me a couple words. No harm, I hope" he laughs, and his eyes twinkle momentarily.

He pauses a moment, the mention stirring a memory. The Patriarch frowns for a moment and takes a draught of ale again.

[mshady]

Thordrek

Thordrek bows deeply to Hignar as he finishes his tale, and helps himself to a last tankard. While the beginnings of the tale were of more interest to his logical scholarly side, the last stretch of it was emotionally wracking even to a listener, and he could see the effect it had on a man he had recently faced the next best thing to a god without flinching

It is an honour that you've trusted us with this tale Sire. We'll leave you to your rest, and go find ours, I will be at your disposal tomorrow if you need anything passed on to the Thanes of Mirabar when I go there. As Johanness said, the best shield against falsehoods is the truth, or at least a... less compromising version of it

Hignar to Thordrek

Hignar turns next to Thordrek and listens to him, nodding as he speaks in turn.

"You'll be at my disposal, eh? I might just take ye up on that, and honor ye with some great quest for the Lost Mess Kit of the Patriarch or some such" he says and chuckles. "Would ye believe there is actually a market for things that used to belong to me in Shadowdale and Cormyr? Amusing" he says, but only seems only slightly amused by it.

"If ye won't mind staying on a few more days, I was going to send Tolrin down to Luskan, Mirabar, Mithril Hall and into the Silver Marches with letters explaining what happened. Some assurances I'm not going to just go blowing up everyone on my shat list. Well, with one exception, but they don't need to know about my kin" he says and pauses, than raises a finger to hold anyone's protests.

"You all heard the same story, and I think it's clear why we had to have them. That was before this wonder armor they are using, and who knows what else. That said, that is a last resort, as such terrors should be. They just had to know I had them, and willing to use them in anger. I doubt there is any peaceful resolution, but maybe... just maybe, we can still cut the cancer out. If certain... leaders are removed, I hope the people may yet follow their rightful King to the surface in peace" he says and shakes his head.

"As I also said to Johannes, truth is the best armor against lies, but some armor is so heavy it is better to do without. It weighs you down too much, if that makes sense. I would rather fight this unencumbered for as long as I can and take my chances"

[mshady]

Wyatt

Wyatt was taken with the tale of Hignar, and was listening intently the entire way. He shook his head slightly at the end, not in disappointment but in disbelief.

"I gotta hand it to ya... you've dealt with a lot of crap, and you know your stuff, and here you are, still kickin'. It's not often I get to listen to such a story. Makes my life sound kinda dull, haha! Just a shame we can't share it, but I'll keep it to myself. Thanks for... well, everything, really. The hospitality, the stories..."

He nodded to Thordrek, stretching a bit and taking a last bit of food, whatever was closest, to nibble on. "I can tell 'dis story means a lot to you and it's taken its toll on ya... understandably. I've got nothin' to say. What CAN I say, other 'dan what has already? I'll leave you to your rest if the others have nothin' either."

Hignar to Wyatt

"My story makes your life sound dull?" Hignar says and smiles gently at Wyatt. "Likely you are right, but make sure to appreciate your own life. I would trade nearly anything to have led a 'dull' life. I think I would have rather been a... a shop keeper, perhaps a baker or a brewer. A humble craft and people to take to, wife a fat wife who loved me and children that were all still alive.

Of course, I could simply get up, hand off my regalia and go do just that. Or go live in the woods with my god daughter. Or find where the Ironstar Clan is hidden. Something else. Gauntylgrym is fashionable again, I hear. It tis not without precedent, we live for a long time and crowns are a hard to bear for life. Unfortunately, there is a great responsibility. Should that chain ever be broken, I might just retire. Either to a quiet town somewhere, or to Moradin's Halls. Not sure yet. How I wish for some dullness in life from time to time"

[mshady]

Magnum

As for questions, most that he still had seemed trivial at this point. Only one stood out to him, and he voiced it in a deep yet soft tone, "And what became o'da mighty Hammer, Heretic's Bane?"

Hignar to Magnum

"What became o'the mighty hammer, Heretic's Bane? Tis a good enough question. After my son died, I took that hammer from him and bore it as my own. It was one of the hammers forged by my namesake, alloyed with the ashes of heretics. Must be several thousand years old, truly.

I'll admit to having a collection of war hammers and mauls, and I mostly keep it is a vault. For serious and 'official' business or a show of force though, I take it up again. Shame to lose it after all this time, otherwise.

Tis a heavy thing! That hammer has served me in most of my greatest victories, many of which are in that little museum. I fought up and down the Sword Coast, and a few other Planes with it, and it has a fearful reputation. As it should. So yes, I still have it and can still wield it, although perhaps not as well or as often as I used to. Those battles have taken their toll on my body, just as that old damned hammer was taken its own toll"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek nods in understanding at the Patriarch

It's your story to share of course

When he mentions Tolrin's travels

What do you say Johanness, a bit of travel around the Silver Marches meeting the high and mighty, then we catch a ship from Luskan to Waterdeep? Always wanted to see Silverymoon myself, and if King Bruenor can spare them I'd like to send a few Gutbusters Tasster's way

[mshady]

Hignar to Nalrak

"I figured the good doctor would have more to say, but I can see you laboring through something. Even old eyes can see much" he says with a warm-ish smile.

"So, I meant to ask you before but perhaps it is better to ask ye now. I understood you've sworn a vow of poverty? That surprised me a bit. You are an excellent surgeon and healer in battle, and acquitted yourself well both on the field and with this Kaladus fellow. So why takes this vow? What do you feel a need to atone for? This is not about atonement for your service to me, is it?" he asks, not in a reproachful manner but a curious one.

[Grodech]

Grathalmor eagerly awaited the answer to Hignar's question, even more so than that of his own question to the patriarch. He had tried many times to talk Nalrak out of the vow, unsuccessfully. Maybe Hignar's wisdom would talk his cousin out of the decision...

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist


"I figured the good doctor would have more to say, but I can see you laboring through something. Even old eyes can see much" he says with a warm-ish smile.

"So, I meant to ask you before but perhaps it is better to ask ye now. I understood you've sworn a vow of poverty? That surprised me a bit. You are an excellent surgeon and healer in battle, and acquitted yourself well both on the field and with this Kaladus fellow. So why takes this vow? What do you feel a need to atone for? This is not about atonement for your service to me, is it?" he asks, not in a reproachful manner but a curious one.


Grathalmor eagerly awaited the answer to Hignar's question, even more so than that of his own question to the patriarch. He had tried many times to talk Nalrak out of the vow, unsuccessfully. Maybe Hignar's wisdom would talk his cousin out of the decision...

Nalrak's eyes dart from the Patriarch to his cousin, and then down to his plate. "Well," he starts, then promptly stops. He tries to think of an easy and diplomatic way to say what was on his mind, but he pauses a few times as there is no easy way. It's best to just be out with it--rip off the bandage, as it were. "Highness, in all honesty I initially sought atonement for my contribution to the detonation of the Stoneburner, yes." He pauses a moment, searching carefully for his explanation. "I had contributed to much death, and I mistook ignorance of the reason for the absence of one. I seek forgiveness not just from the gods, but also from you, Majesty. I was presumptuous."

He pauses again, looking to see how Hignar is responding. Assuming he doesn't see the king's temperature rising, he continues: "Hearing your tale has made me realize that sometimes we must bear great burdens in the name of the greater good. Still, easing the burden is not erasing it. I swore an oath long ago to first do no harm--an oath I have violated. Aside from that, there are sins in my past I am still working through." At this, Nalrak exchanges a silent glance with his cousin--Grath knew of the fire at the brewery, but Nalrak wasn't sure how much he knew or who else knew. "My material possessions were leaving me...encumbered on my journey toward redemption. I am nearer the summit than the vale, but I'm still climbing...if that makes any sense."

[mshady]

Hignar's response to Nalrak

Hignar listens to Nalrak, and does not betray his feelings as he listens to the other dwarf. He simply smiles at him, a tolerant smile as he listens to Nalrak's rationale.

"I respect a dwarf who keeps an Oath. Such things are sacred to our people. So sacred, in fact, they become confining. Some of us become so enamored with keeping to the terms of an oath that it has so meaning at all. The oath says this, not that, so I must do such. For sake of an oath, I have watched good dwarves lay down their lives. Often I admired it, but sometimes, I have shook my head.

What is lost sometimes in the legality of the oath is the spirit of the oath. You swore an oath to do no harm. Your focus is on healing others. Others would fight again and do harm because you healed them. Have you done no harm with no actions? I'd argue that you would have done a great bit of harm to others if, say, you restored your cousin's wounds and sent him back to battle. He's a fierce one. So what is the difference, truly?

You bloody your hands with the blood of our warriors so they can bloody our enemy. How is that 'doing no harm'? What would your role be with your companions but to tend them so they can fight on your behalf? Is that no harm? I would argue that you would be enabling harm, much like a wizard summoning creatures to fight on his behalf" Hignar says, stopping to take a puff on his cigar. He leans forward a bit before speaking again.

"If you interpret your oath as doing no violence, but you enable others to do so, you are in fact doing violence in absentia. That would mean you could heal the old, the young and the infirm. Noble, but that is not the vein you were hewn from. Yer far too young for that.

I think ye missed some of the point of my story. Bearing a burden means shouldering it, not setting it aside. Whatever ye did, and feel guilty for, ye deal with it, not deflect it. Ye think'n ye can earn credit to balance some scales. It does not work that way. I assure ye, the Gods do not weigh your worth like divine store clerks count their custom for the day" the Patriarch stops and takes a quick drag off his cigar. He seems irritated for a moment before centering himself.

"Think about what I said. What is the intent of your oath? Did you violate that? Sometimes we sin and require atonement. I understand. I'll spare ye my sins, but I've been there. I watched my mentor, a High Sonnlinor of Moradin named Dalmaran die in front of me because I would not break an oath and aide Cyric so a faction could gain access to the old dwarf realm of Ammarindar. Oaths must be taken seriously. So must Atonement. When that is accomplished, we are not expected to continue bearing that" he stops again and takes a drink.

"I mean not to be hard on ye, but perhaps ye are being a bit rash? We must think of the greater good, and if that means bearing things to do that, we must bear them. We do not lives for just ourselves, but our Clan, our Race, our Gods.

As for yer vow of poverty, yer desire to do no harm, and that most of yer possessions are designed to do just that, they will be secured in our arsenal. I'll see to it that any fair donation is made to a charity of yer choice as ye wish. When ye have found yer atonement, such things will be returned to ye.

To quote ye, ye said "My material possessions were leaving me". Thus I would say yer oath does not prevent ye from carrying the possessions of others, does it?" he asks, with a raised eye brow.

"I ask that ye honor me by bearing armor, shield and stave. Where I am asking ye to go, ye will be sorely pressed to tend your friends. If you are so vulnerable your comrades must protect ye and distract themselves, that would be doing harm to them. As for the rest, I suggest ye find your atonement by resolving yer guilt"

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

The Patriarch's words cut Nalrak deeply, but he had long expected reactions like these from those who couldn't or wouldn't understand. His many long talks with Grathalmore had helped to prepare him. Sometimes their talks had grown fiery, but Nalrak saw now that those had been to temper his emotions so he would not react so in the face of the king. Taking a quiet breath to calm himself, Nalrak replies to Hignar's questioning.

"I understand the difference between following the letter versus the spirit of the law, Majesty. But the amount of work I put in to ensuring that Stoneburner erupted--the amount of death caused by my direct involvement--served to violate every letter of my original oath as well as any spirit one could interpret. This went beyond enabling harm; I sought to do harm as a primary objective. I now understand the necessity of it, but that doesn't mean I can continue being a Silver Knightingale.

I also believe that burdens are to be borne, not blotted out. This is forever mine to bear, along with my other transgressions. I don't seek righteousness as a means of balancing the cosmic scales, though. I want the scales to be tilted fully to the side of good. I want to be a dwarf who brings healing to our people. For me, redemption is not about cancelling debts, but redefining myself as an agent of good...warts and all. I'm not seeking to remove my warts, but neither am I seeking to let them come to define me. Every lantern casts a shadow, but we know them as sources of light. I'd like it to one day be the same for me. I hope you'll pardon my multiple metaphors.

I thank you for securing my belongings and offering a donation; the Silver Knightingales will benefit greatly from any amount of generosity you see fit to show them, Patriarch. As to your question about carrying the items of others, I can do so with great limitations. I can carry the simplest of weapons, but nothing of quality nor bearing magical enhancement. I cannot wear armor, and I cannot borrow anything bearing magic for my own use. I assure you though, Highness, that thinking I am vulnerable because my hands are empty would be ignoring the protection the gods have bestowed upon me. I shall not be a burden to my companions as I carry these burdens of my own, I guarantee it.

I wish that I was being rash, and that this was the impulsive decision of a younger dwarf. But my cousin can attest that he and I have had many similar conversations in recent days, and none of his eloquent reasons have swayed me. There are plenty of reasons not to take an oath, but I find that the path of least resistance does not help us grow. That being said, Highness, as a citizen of the Patriarchate I cannot ignore my oath to you. If you still take my vow of poverty as a sign of disrespect, I shall break it. As your subject, I cannot allow this new oath to interfere with a previous one. I humbly ask that you not make such a request of me, but you act with Moradin's blessing and I serve at the pleasure of the king."

[roll0]

[BelGareth]

Kal-resh does a double take as the King slips into the secretive language of the druids! He stands open mouthed for a moment or two, and then realizes, perhaps he shouldn't and attempts to recover his surprise.

He speaks back to the King in Druidic: "Your Highness, I am...surprised! I would greatly enjoy meeting your god-daughter, if she is half as fierce as you, she must be a mighty Druid indeed!" he pauses for a moment "but I am unsure of whether you knowing this language is allowed...I think...I think you must succumb to a beer drinking contest!"

He says, with his arms crossed and a toothy grin splayed over his face.

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt nods to Hignar's words about leading a simple life. "Yeah... considering all the hell you've gone through... your words ring with truth, sir. I'm guessin' Moradin probably wouldn't let you off the hook so easily, either... someone would have to carry 'dat torch at least, right?"

[mshady]

Hignar to Kal-resh

Hignar nods in reaction to Wyatt's comments before returning to Kal-resh.

"She's more than half as fierce. Just as or more, is more like it. Impressive for an elf. She was the adopted daughter of a friend of mine, who felt compelled because of her friendship to his Clan. Quite unheard of. As his best friend, I promised to look after her if something happened to him. Something did, eventually. Went out one day, and never came back. Well, his remains did eventually. If knowing a few words of the druidic language is punishable by drinking though, stick around for a few days and I'll join ye at our beer hall. I assure ye, I find ye quite a curious fellow" he smiles at the half orc.

[mshady]

Nalrak Ironfist

The Patriarch's words cut Nalrak deeply, but he had long expected reactions like these from those who couldn't or wouldn't understand. His many long talks with Grathalmore had helped to prepare him. Sometimes their talks had grown fiery, but Nalrak saw now that those had been to temper his emotions so he would not react so in the face of the king. Taking a quiet breath to calm himself, Nalrak replies to Hignar's questioning.

"I understand the difference between following the letter versus the spirit of the law, Majesty. But the amount of work I put in to ensuring that Stoneburner erupted--the amount of death caused by my direct involvement--served to violate every letter of my original oath as well as any spirit one could interpret. This went beyond enabling harm; I sought to do harm as a primary objective. I now understand the necessity of it, but that doesn't mean I can continue being a Silver Knightingale.

I also believe that burdens are to be borne, not blotted out. This is forever mine to bear, along with my other transgressions. I don't seek righteousness as a means of balancing the cosmic scales, though. I want the scales to be tilted fully to the side of good. I want to be a dwarf who brings healing to our people. For me, redemption is not about cancelling debts, but redefining myself as an agent of good...warts and all. I'm not seeking to remove my warts, but neither am I seeking to let them come to define me. Every lantern casts a shadow, but we know them as sources of light. I'd like it to one day be the same for me. I hope you'll pardon my multiple metaphors.

I thank you for securing my belongings and offering a donation; the Silver Knightingales will benefit greatly from any amount of generosity you see fit to show them, Patriarch. As to your question about carrying the items of others, I can do so with great limitations. I can carry the simplest of weapons, but nothing of quality nor bearing magical enhancement. I cannot wear armor, and I cannot borrow anything bearing magic for my own use. I assure you though, Highness, that thinking I am vulnerable because my hands are empty would be ignoring the protection the gods have bestowed upon me. I shall not be a burden to my companions as I carry these burdens of my own, I guarantee it.

I wish that I was being rash, and that this was the impulsive decision of a younger dwarf. But my cousin can attest that he and I have had many similar conversations in recent days, and none of his eloquent reasons have swayed me. There are plenty of reasons not to take an oath, but I find that the path of least resistance does not help us grow. That being said, Highness, as a citizen of the Patriarchate I cannot ignore my oath to you. If you still take my vow of poverty as a sign of disrespect, I shall break it. As your subject, I cannot allow this new oath to interfere with a previous one. I humbly ask that you not make such a request of me, but you act with Moradin's blessing and I serve at the pleasure of the king."

[roll0]

Hignar returns to Nalrak, having purposefully ignored him for a moment to address the others. He gives the other dwarf a wry smile before continuing.

"I'll pardon the metaphors and yer rationalization. Ye felt that doing harm as your primary objective was wrong? Well why did ye sign on as Carmard's guardian with your cousin as part of a legion's strike team? Yer still willing to go on those, and me asking this group to detonate another one could come up. I just want to be clear on this, so next time I feast with yer group I hear you've taken a Vow of Celibacy next" he says, laughing a bit and shaking his head.

"I don't take yer Vow of Poverty as a lack of respect for me. It seems you lack respect for yourself. I find that baffling, as I'd consider y'all heroes and ye are probably the most skilled healer we have. Just know that it is your choice, and so is staying with this group. Do not hide behind your Vow.

As the Patriarch of Moradin and leader of this Clan, my role is that of Oath Keeper. I would ask that ye present yerself tomorrow at the Temple and swear this oath before me. I would only ask that ye modify yer vow a bit.

We do not live in a world where we can do no harm. I pointed out some of the hole in that if ye continue to want to soldier on and care for my soldiers.
I would ask that you swear to Do No Wrong. I think you will find that easier to hold to, and ye will never question yerself if you have to kill a foe to save a friend. If you cannot swear to that, I will still accept your vow. If it interferes with your duties as part of your strike team, I reserve the right to remove you from that team and assign you to Sunderhelme, missions of mercy and so on"

He takes a drag on his cigar before finishing.

"When you come to swear this vow at the temple though, I would ask that you explain to me in private what you did in your past that compels this. You have more than hinted at something ye did, and I would know of it. As Patriarch, I can help guide you on your path of atonement. I have a bit of experience in living with guilt"

[mshady]

Another thought came to Grathalmor's mind, and he voiced the question. "Afore you left, had 'da Unalloyed dabbled in consorting with demons, or is dat a new development? Down below, dey used both demons and undead ta try an' stop us."

Hignar to Grathalmor

"May as well finish with that question" he says, returning to Grathalmor.

"I would not say it is a new innovation, but it is rare. The Jilker Clan has a fairly 'old' approach. It tis not just the Unalloyed Church. It includes me as well.

They will fight you arms against arms as their first preference, as winning battles with magic is considered less honorable. If an enemy is using magic, we will too. Unless we are so sorely pressed we have to resort to magic.

When something is a threat to the existence of the Clan though, unlimited warfare is permitted. With something like the threat of the Stoneburner to them, they consider it far more offensive than anything they could do.

If there is a valid tactical reason to resort to undead or summoning of devils, making pacts with them or elementals, they will do it. If they see it as the only way to protect themselves for elimination, they will do absolutely anything. Absolutely anything is permitted if it is a choice between that or being destroyed. In part, that philosophy is why Thurgar became a lich. In part, that is why the Unalloyed Church do absolutely anything to kill him.

What is quite new though, is that Gemma may be using Shadow Magic. That certainly got Glorian's attention. I never knew them to use it, even know of it's existence or how they came to know of it. I've been away so long, I cannot explain that. I find that news the most disturbing.

Now that I've demonstrated I have working Stoneburners though, I do not expect it to provide much deterrence. Not while I hold the Hammer Staff, or while I live. I am quite sure they are fully in the mindset of unrestricted warfare now. We will just have to see what they do now"

Taking a last drink from his ale stein, Hignar smiles to everyone once again. Even Nalrak.

"Time for me to get some rest. Buehler and Valina should be available tomorrow in the beer hall around the dinner hour to go over your shares of the recent mission. After that, I will meet you again at the temple for your new orders"

[mshady]

The Temple - Morning Mass and Swearing of the Vow

Going to do a bit of a simulcast here, so two things will be happening at the same time here…

In the morning, Patriarch Hignar Jilker, Chosen of Moradin, Defender of the Faith and The Mortal Hammer, is dressed in full regalia. He is dressed in long, flowing robes of earthsilk brown, trimmed in white with gold stripping. A heavy gold chain with a large holy symbol of Moradin hangs from his neck. He also wears the Forgemark Crown along with a large, wedge shaped mitre hat adorned with jewels. The Patriarch also wears a broad shouldered cloak made of winter wolf fur and other adornments. The effect is to make the Patriarch, informal the night before, look broader, taller and quite regal. All the same, he stands by the anvil at the center of the temple and speaks with some of the parishioners there. He smiles and nods to them, pats some on the back and offers quick blessings to many. One smiling couple present two new born babies to him, and he drops any pretense of formality and just grins at the sight of the child. He anoints each one with a drop of oil and kisses them on the cheek, even taking a moment to tickle one of the babies that giggles with glee. The Patriarch returns his attention to the parents and talks briefly about setting up a time with them for a more formal commitment ceremony.

Standing to his sides the entire time are a dozen of the Patriarch’s Own, in their jet black and shining gold armor and heavy Lucerne hammers. Several more stand near the door and if one looked closely at the balcony, they would see a couple of crossbowmen watching the crowd. Security was heavier than usual here today, in light of the encounter with the Unalloyed Church, but no explanation was given to anyone that asked.
As the Cathedral clears out, the Patriarch stands at the altar and waits. It is known that after morning services that the Patriarch leads, it is a time where he held audiences with anyone who requested it. Sometimes there were lines, sometimes just a few, occasionally no one.

The Patriarch looks around the cavernous room and spies Valina sitting on a stone pew with a book. He smiles at her and she returns a quick wave, adjusting her glasses for a moment before returning to reading. She rarely had the luxury of time or casual reading, so it was probably some matter of importance. He was going to give it only a few minutes, but the Patriarch looked at the departing crowd, wondering if Nalrak would appear to swear his oath today…

OOC: If any other characters attend, please make a note of that. Of most importance is if Nalrak shows up to share his vow or not before the Patriarch.

[thorgrim29]

Yeah, Thordrek will have attended the service, but he won't be staying for Nalrak's vow

[Grodech]

Grathalmor would be there too. He has much more faith in the Patriarch now than he did before their dinner the night before.

ooc: it might serve as a hint to Hignar - Grath would be wearing the gauntlet if Nalrak is still planning on the vow.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Proud to represent the war sect of the Morndinsamman, the Sum Alaghor attended the service at the Temple dressed in his holy garb; immaculately polished silver war helm and chain mail armor. He walked in with Grathalmor (and any others of the group who attend), but made his way over to sit near Valina.

[mshady]

The Mess Hall and the Division of Spoils

DM Note: Special thanks to Toliudar for working on the loot list!

In the great mess hall of the Soulhammer Halls, the group assembles around a large stone table. It is over a hundred feet in length and seems to be cut from one continuous piece of stone. In dwarven terms, some old stonemason must have been showing off when they crafted the great table. Normally it was used for feasts or general dining, but also sometimes for large meeting or special purposes.

In attendance to represent the Patriarchate in this would be Buehler and Valina. They two seem to be joking around about something as the group enters.

The Group: Arman, Buna, Duervar, Grathalmor, Johannes, Kal-resh, Magnum, Nalrak, Thordrek and Wyatt. Absent would be Carmard. Nega and Hjalmar.

“Good to see everyone. Yes, I am alive and well. In case anyone was concerned. No? Okay. Well, my apologies to ye for how I acted, but it was a needed deception. I had hoped to make it look like ye turned on me and tossed me out, and they would allow ye to leave peacefully. Sort of worked, could have been much worse. Not why we’re here though” Buehler says, his tone friendlier than usual but there is a little bitterness too with the last part. Sitting on the table before him are piles of treasure. Some of it is sorted, some not, but ridiculous in the amount. Valina stands next to him, a clipboard in hand with parchment and a quill handy. She looks over and smiles briefly to Magnum.

“Because of the plunder ye brought back, it required a bit of sorting to figure out what everything was worth and how this all went. As ye know being part of the Patriarchate, a certain portion o’what was recovered goes to us to keep things going. Have no fear though, there be plenty to go around” Buehler says and smiles, gesturing to Valina to continue.

“We had quite a bit here from the treasury that ye somehow got into, and good thing for that. From the eight chests ye recovered, there be the following amounts: 60,000 gold from 5 chests of gold, a platinum chest of 200 lbs of coin worth 100,000 and about 200,000 gp worth of precious gems. From the dragon hordes themselves ye found in the temple, that was turned in, we had another 150,000 gold. That would be a total of 510,000 gold.

Of that, half goes to the coffers of the Patriarchate, leaving 255,000 for you. From that, we are paying Black’s Company 15,000 for their work and future loyalty. The Wayward Sons are given 10,000. The three remaining minotaurs are awarded 8,000 with Kerik getting a double share.
Each of the 50 or so remaining slaves are awarded 200 gp apiece to resettle in the Icewind Dale region, totaling 10,000. The families of Arumfaerwed and Bundok are awarded 10,000 apiece for their loss. The town of Hundlestone is awarded 20,000 gold for their own losses, future rebuilding and garrison fees.

The remaining 202,000 is divided between the 13 surviving participants that are here, recuperating yet or moved on to other duties. You are each awarded a total of 15500 apiece” Valina says and smiles at them, taking a moment to flip a page.

“There was also the dragon’s horde, which totaled around 160,000 gold. Half of that goes to the Patriarchate, the other half is divided 13 ways and that works out to be 6,153 gold for each of ye” Valina stops and looks at the page, raises an eyebrow and flips to the next.

“There is also the matter of a large adamantine door that someone put into a haversack? That is particularly valuable just for the metal, let alone the enhancements. That you even got past this door is quite remarkable. I studied the runes on it, and had they been fully powered they could have killed someone. Easily. We would estimate the value of it to be around incalculable, but to throw a number out I would say one and a half million. We will be restoring it and installing it on our own vaults in the near future. As we’re not going to be liquidating it, we can’t split it up either. In fairness though to Johannes who took the initiative to get that, the Patriarch says he will look into a way to properly reward you for it. So think on that please, sir” she says and nods respectfully to him.

“Most of the equipment you recovered and equipped for yerselves, we are allowing ye to keep. That includes that magnificent armor that Thordrek recovered, with the exception that if he ever leaves the service of the Patriarchate, he is asked to turn that into us.

The drow’s swords, a pair of nasty looking scimitars shall be added to our armory. The adamantine harpoons shall also be stored in an attempt to study and reproduce them. I hear they were quite effective. That blue cube of ice was a particular value, as it was used by the wizard there to control the local weather. Quite an impressive artifact we shall make use of here. The unidentified magic rod from that wizard was a “Rod of Metal and Mineral Detection” with a few small improvements, as it was Delzoun. We shall be using that in our mining operations.

"The scarf taken from the wizard was a fine wool. It doesn’t really do anything, but if anyone wants a nice scarf, let me know. The diamond earrings appear to have bit of an enhancement on there, and protect the wearer from being deafened. The spell book is impressive, but nothing we do not already know really. If any casters wish to study it, they are welcome to it. The cloak recovered from that wizard was a 3rd degree cloak of resistance as well. It also had quite a few pockets, but nothing of note in there. The earrings and cloak are up for grabs, if anyone wants them” She stops and pauses, looking around the group.

“Any questions? If ye have any surplus gear ye wish us to take off yer hands, let me know and you’ll be compensated fairly for it”

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Returning the smile briefly but sincerely to Valina, the Sum Alaghor sat and listened intently to the inventory. While he was no mathematician, the summing of gold was something he was fairly well versed in from his youth spent in a merchant community. He raised an eyebrow, impressed at the amounts, and smiled broadly when he heard the totals of his share.

Speaking up boldly, he said, "I'd ask dat at least one diamond sufficient ta use fer a Raise dead spell be part o'my share. I'd be interested in dat cloak. Since I had a hand in slayin' its guardian, dat wizard's scarf'd be a nice momento ta keep also."

After a brief hesitation, he added, "I also be lookin' fer a way ta enhance my wisdom, ta gain more spells each day, if'n ye have any such magic available. If not, maybe a trip ta a big city where dey deal in such items is prudent."

[mshady]

Valina smiles back at Magnum when he finishes his question.

"I wouldn't fret about diamonds. We have access to them, so you need not worry about them. The Patriarch actually keeps a reserve of them. Not a lot, but any cleric in our service who can make use of one is probably not going to go without. If ye feel ye need more, ye would have to talk to him about it. There are certain benefits to working with us" she says and smiles.

"For yer other request, not much like that goes unclaimed. Ye could afford to commission it, at cost, if yer willing to wait a bit. I haven't written up any orders for ye yet, so you have some time but if yer going to a big city, we probably have a shopping list for ye. Reagents are often in short supply, and some rare groceries for other things, like sugar? Never get enough of that. Not that yer really going anywhere with winter setting in most likely"

Buehler coughs politely and gives Valina a look before continuing.

"Yes well, a trip can be arranged if ye really want to go. I understand a certain someone has a connection in Sigil?" he says and looks squarely at Johannes. "If ye go, I'd avoid the Godsmen. As for orders, the Patriarch does have something cooking. Magnum and Thordrek, ye are cordially invited back to the Patriarch's quarters tomorrow at the dinner hour to have a chat with him about yer futures with us"

[BelGareth]

Kal-Resh sits and tries his best to remain still, but these clothes were so annoying!

He itched and scratched, and he didn't like the way they rubbed against his skin, he all but changed into a eagle and flew away, but he was told it would be rude.

Apparently a lot was rude, like showing up half naked.

He wasn't impressed when Wyatt had shown up with some man-clothes for him to wear, he snarled at the suggestion, pacing in a circle like a dog at the mentioning of being....dressed.

He bore his discomfort well, for the most part, and managed to sit still enough so people didn't look at him, more than they already were...

He looked at the pile of gold, silver and copper coins, he picked one up inquisitively, not sure what to do with it, or it's purpose. "What is this for?" he says as he bites one gingerly, seeing if it was solid "it's shiny, I once saw something like this in a cave near my home, it was like a spider web inside the rock...but that was it," he says shrugging, putting the coin back unaware of any etiquette regarding dwarves, gold and money "do you use it to throw at your enemies?" he said in all seriousness.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek


As he looked at the pile of gold and gems that constituted his share, Thordrek swallows nervously and his hand twitches nervously towards it before he remembers decorum.

That's quite the sum... What about the axe Tolrin loaned me? While I love having an adamentine axe, I think a keen edge enchantment on it is overkill, and not quite suited to my fighting style... So if at all possible I'd like to trade it in with the quartermaster for another one of the same value, but personalized. And I'd like to know if we have anyone who knows how to work dragonbone

He stares at Kal Resh a bit before realizing he was serious, idly wondering what rock Johanness dug this one out of.

It's money Kal Resh, currency. You trade it for things or services you can't or don't have the time to do yourself, such as food, lodging, clothes, weapons, art, that sort of thing. That is a lot of it, most people live their whole lives without even looking at a fraction of this, it's worth several lifetimes of labour for, say, a miner or a lumberjack.

He grabs a few examples of each coin

This is copper, the exact value depends on the size and purity of it, but roughly it's worth a small meal, or a mug of weak ale. This is silver, worth ten times as much, you could eat well in a decent inn and stay the night for a few of these. This is gold, worth ten times silver, and this is platinum, worth ten times gold

[Strangie]

Wyatt

"Look, I know, like, clothes aren't really your deal, but at least wear some pants. I'm sure you can find someone to make them fit better later," he says as he hands Kal-resh some simple clothing, frowning and rolling his eyes. "And quit tryin' to eat the coins, will ya?"

He then turns to address the Patriarch representatives. "Well, I do have Arum's stuff 'dat I recovered. It's all spellcasting stuff, so it's not gonna do me much good. Nobody went out of 'deir way to claim it off my hands, and I'm not really sure what most of 'dis stuff does anyway so I'm not sure if 'deir is anything I even want."

He pulls out the satchel with what he was able to recover from Arum's corpse back in the caves...

OOC
Mike, do you happen to have the list of what was recovered? The computer I used to use with that data saved on it crashed and I haven't been able to find what it was.

[Toliudar]

Johannes

Johannes learns with badly-feigned disinterest as the treasure is enumerated, glancing over to make sure that Kal-Resh didn't start pulling at the stitching of his sleeves again. For goodness' sake, one more good pull and that cotton was going to come away in one custom-tailored piece. As it turns out, finding clothes for the Kal-Resh's body type wasn't all that easy in a dwarven community.

He relaxes significantly as it becomes clear that the surviving warriors, and the families of Bundok and Arum were being remembered. Also that Black's Company would end up with significantly less than they had tried to extort from him, the cheating bastards.

When the vault door is referenced and his name used, Johannes simply smiles and doffs his hat. "I have every faith that there will be such thanks as befits a king's remembrance."

Replacing his hat, he steps carefully around those members of the group with nothing further to discuss, the better to speak softly to Valina.

"In our audience with the Patriarch, we had an opportunity to tour his collection. I noticed a bow there. Perhaps you know the one whereof I speak. Well, perhaps there are times when even something of personal significance is of greater use to the Patriarchate in the hands of a loyal son than up on a wall. Do we understand one another?"

His eyebrow raises slowly, holding the eye contact pending verification. He then reaches back into the side pouches of his pack. Both hands slide back holding silver-hilted longswords by their scabbards.

"I was going to be peddling these simple but well crafted baubles elsewhere, but wanted to give you first right of refusal, so to speak."

He is offering up a MW mithril longsword and a +1 longsword.