[3.5E] Heretic's Bane Icewind Dale

[Melody]

Sable's misty form loses shape as she concentrates on the problem at hand. Pieces of her swirl and eddy in unseen air currents only to reform into her vague outline. Suddenly they all draw back together as she comes to a decision. Her body moves forward, flattening out across the ceiling until she is in the alcove at the back of the room. Her body becomes solid as she crouches in the dark, unseen by the orcs and not yet known by the prisoners. She whispers silently as she focuses on a chair near the middle of the chamber. Suddenly the entire area plunges into a magical darkness. Another whisper as she shifts the goggles onto the top of her head and opens a pouch hanging at her waist.


Cast darkness and ebon eyes. Readying a bag of greased marbles and a sap. Let's get it on!

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith will spend his Cure Minor Wounds castings on the orcs to stablize them from dying (although I doubt the +1 hp will be enough to revive any).

"Well, that ought to be enough to keep them from the grave; although if you want them to be good enough to talk they are going to need more help."

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum makes his way over to Kelith and administers some small healing to one of the orcs. "Sure grates me to waste effort on the likes of these."

Casting 5 Cure minors for +5 hp.

If anyone needs any healing let me know your HP lvl, I still have a few spells to spare.

[thorgrim29]

I,m 13 down

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

I,m 13 down

I'll use 1 charge of my lesser vigor wand and you now gain 11 hp! (1 hp per round for 11 rounds technically)

[ArmanMadero]

"Sammas means friend. I am not that to him." Carnard said, stroking his beard with one hand and looking pensive and quiet.

Arman continued to lean on the Shamans staff for a while longer, standing straighter and looking around.

"Please take no offense at this Carmard. But we really should decide soon. Granted I am normally more patient in matters, but we are all tired. Most of our magic is exhausted. There is possibly a dragon on the way, plus is anything comes through that breach... Arman left his words hanging, taking a deep breath.

"Do what we have to do to complete this mission. What are your orders?"

[King Tius]

Nalrak
The grizzled cleric nods at Carmand's explanation. "Aye. If we must go plane hopping, let us rest our bones someplace safe a spell. I doubt the planes will be any more forgiving than this cavern." Nalrak moves off to continue bracing that new passage....

[mshady]

Nalrak, Magnum and Duervar

Looking around the immediate area, they do not see anything of immediate use as a structural brace for the unsecured passage they are creating. Not surprisingly, these devil orcs had little appreciation for proper mine engineering or kept a pile of structural bracing around. There did appear to be some wood that was the trim on the otherwise stone altar, but it would be time consuming to strip it down, bind it together and a stretch to think it would be of use.

The methodical dwarves would just have to hope that it would stay open long enough and that Magnum’s spell glazed over any cracks or fragments in the stone that could shear off and fall upon them. Most of the time when one carves a hole through stone, bracing was not an immediate concern even for the most methodical dwarf. As a result of the Stoneburner, what they faced now was anyone’s guess. The stone was, however, rather warm.

“Mags!” Duervar barks. “See if these damnable orcs left any picks around. Grab one for each o’us” he grumbles.

Bang, bang, bang, bang goes Duervar’s pick. Thump, thumb, thumb, thump, thump goes Nalrak’s hammer against the wall. The two settle in for long and grueling task; neither can find the breath to curse the job between the extreme fatigue and thinning air that robbed them of even more strength…

After several minutes of rummaging through the junk strewn corners of the cavern, Nalrak returns with several actual mining picks slung over his shoulder. He drops all five of them down to the floor with a clatter, now far too exhausted to truly care. Grunting in acknowledgement, each rest for a moment before taking up the heavy picks and keep chipping away at the unyielding stone. That these devil orcs even had picks is a small miracle; the only use for them they can discern was the rough crafting that went into the stone altar.

After several minutes, the three finally break off a significant chunk of stone that falls to their feet in chunks and bits of dust. Each has now dropped the beavers on their battered helmets to protect their eyes from the stone bits. A little known fact is that most dwarves who lose an eye do so not in battle but from rock fragments whilst in a mine. The numbers are a close thing, however…

WHAM!

Each of the dwarves take a step back from the wall and look at each other.

“What the frak was that?” Duervar says, looking at the stone in front of them.

WHAM! WHAM!

Duervar and Nalrak share a look for a moment, understanding dawning on them.

The loud “WHAM” against the wall settles into a rhythmic beat and clearly there are two sources now.

“The minotaurs. They’re alive” Duervar says to no one in particular.

Looking up at the freshly carved ceiling, Duervar’s stomach rolls at another realization; if those minotaurs did not know how to excavate properly, and he doubted that, they could bring it all down on them. Motioning towards his comrades, they all step out of the tunnel and watch…

[King Tius]

"Bless my bones, those bulls might bring the whole thing down! If only we could signal them." Nalrak remains outside the new tunnel and leans on the pick he was using.

[mshady]

Sable in the Cavern

The gases that form her dispered body and consciousness reform once more into a body. She finds herself crouching on the floor, momentarily disoriented but through force of will she concentrates on her plan.

Another globe of darkness blossoms up between the barracks and the central cavern. The area is enveloped in an inky blackness and the chill feel of magic briefly washes over her. Taking a breath, she concentrates for a second on another spell. While her goggles allowed her to see in a lack of light, the new spell allowed her to see through the magical darkness...

Closing her eyes and concentrating, she whispers the proper words and shapes her will to its purposes and a soft tingle washes over her. Her eyes burn for a moment from the transformation.

Opening them once again, the entirety of her eyes are completely jet black. Its a rather unsettling thing to see, if one were to see. Able now to see through the magical darkness, she surveys the area with a smile.

Inside the cavern, the screams and squells of surprised orcs greet her actions and she wonders if what will happen next will in anyway follow her plan.

Sometimes improvising can be fun though...

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum listens to them hammering of the bulls and nudges Duervar saying, "Well at least their doing the hard work for us. That is if the don't cave in the whole thing."

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith will get done healing and walk back towards the "excavation" going on and wait and watch to see if it caves or not.

[Katasi]

Arum watches everyone wandering around and wonders what the best thing for him to do would be.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman grabs out his haversack and starts to place everything that he finds of value inside. They could sort it out later. He didn't think that they should linger too long, and now Carmard wanted to split up. But where to go. Which direction would he go.

Right now Arman just concentrated on getting everything that he could find that might be of value into his haversack. Later they would divvy it up.

Arman is going to check all the bodies and start gathering all valuables. Necklaces, rings, potions, coinage, weapons and the like, that have value. nothing cruddy going in the sack. He is still holding onto the shamans staff. Everything he gathers will go into his little haversack. :)

[mshady]

OOC: As I’m running three separate sections and one new campaign in the offing, along with suddenly limited time, my posting has been slower than normal. I’m pretty much going to take Sunday night and catch up on everything. That and, creatively, I was just a bit spent and needed to do something else for a little bit of time. I love this group and game, but I needed to step back for a little bit… I’m back now.
Sometimes you’re just not in a mood to write… and if I can’t do it well, I prefer to wait a bit.

Sable in the Cavern

While darkness envelops the threshold between the areas, Sable’s eyes cut through the darkness. She can tell it is there; her vision is “fuzzy” but that is the only effect her own spell had on her vision. The feeling is a predatory rush to her. The total advantage is intoxicating to the woman and she can’t help but curl her lips in a feral smile.

For good measure, she launches another globe of darkness into an edge of the cavern so it overlaps the alcoves where the remaining orcs wait. She was gambling big with her life here. She assumed all of the warrior orcs had been slain and none had been left behind to guard the female orcs and the little runtlings. Having those two minotaurs and that enormously armored paladin did hedge that bet though…

Orcs screamed anew and begin running out of the their hiding places. The orcish word for Drow was screamed out as a terrified warning that only further instilled panic. This was part of her intent, considering the drow reputation for using such spells and something these orcs may be familiar with living in the Underdark. Direct experience was unlikely as they were amongst the living, however. It had paid off…

The orcs scatter and run. Some for the orcs run for the barricade; some try to vault over it but most crash into and through it. Some of the others run right at the source of the darkness. These ones are indeed armed, but not armored at all. They’re clearly female and not mutated, or whatever, like the other orcs they had seen..
Some are not like the others. Interesting.

Six screaming orcs that come Sable’s way with crude looking axes in their hands. They rush into the darkness, perhaps hoping to find their attacker on the other side. Instead, Sable steps into the darkness and meets them.

Drawing her arm back across her chest, she snaps her arm out hard at the first orc’s head. The leather padded sap strikes the orc right in the side of the temple; it spins and crashes to the ground limply from the trauma. Homing in on the whistling sound of the sap, an axe comes sweeping out of the darkness but the sound alerts Sable likewise. She ducks and the wild swing connects with another orc and it screams in pain. This only maddens the other five, but Sable quickly puts her attacker on the ground with a sweep kick and a blow to the head, once than twice to knock it out. The remaining four hold their ground a moment and listen.

Sable smiles at their helplessness, but realizes she must separate them a little or they could easily grab her in a random rush. At least she had the relative invisibility going for her…

The orcs tilt their heads, listening and the one thing Sable can’t hide betrays her; the labored sound of her breathing from the recent exertion and continuing fight. Roaring, the orcs drive in on her before she can react…

Her sap drops one of the orcs with a vicious blow to the face that nearly bounces the orc off of the floor due to the momentum of the assisted fall.
The orc three orcs crash into her.
The sounds in the other room catch up with her as she falls. The unmistakable sound of the minotaurs charging forward into the room makes her wince; not what she was hoping for.

Stupid minotaurs… she curses to herself.

Bang.

Sable’s head strikes the floor and her world is filled with stars and nauseating pain for a moment...

[mshady]

Sable

Stars cloud her vision from the impact on the stone floor. One of the orcs that crashed into her falls to the ground next to her with a grunt. Breathing for a moment, Sable clears her head and grips her sap tightly. The urge to draw her rapier and finish this quickly is powerful, but she swings her sap instead. It connects with a hard thump. Rolling to her side, Sable bounds back up off the floor as three more orcs arrive and one before stands back up groggily.

The orcs surge forward once again, now seven strong and Sable prepares to meet them.

…and so it goes.

[mshady]

The Cavern

Kelith moves through the battlefield and tries to find a few orcs to stabilize for interrogation. Most are too far gone to help or dead already, thanks to the Stoneburner and their own savage wounds. He does find four of them though. One of the orc's eyes flutter open though and it groans. A series of savage blows from a hammer leave the orc still incapacitated and its knee is bent at an odd angle. It offers no resistance beyond a weak snarl to Kelith...

Arman and others comb the battlefield looking for things of use or value, none have much luck. Many of the orcs have pouches full of everything from bits of gold and rather unexotic looking rocks that barely qualify as gems, but none carry coins. Alot of them have jerky though, and it doesn't look half bad. Not sure what its made out of though...

Don't ask...

While most of the group picks through the fallen for wounded or items of use or value, all heads turn suddenly to where the minotaurs are standing.

Kerik and Gore roar a thunderous roar and charge into the tunnel near the altar with Hjalmar in tow. Sable is nowhere to be seen. The sound of screaming orcs can heard inside. Alot of them. Shrill and panicked.

"Get ov'r there! All o'ye except the ones on the tunnels!" Buna barks. "We gots more of'em!"

[ArmanMadero]

Arman glanced up from gathering things, which was pitiful indeed, and looked to where the sounds were coming from suddenly, inside the cavern. There was darkness towards the back of the cavern, and strangely, even his sight couldn't pierce it. He shifted to his darkvision and still couldn't see through it. Sounds of fighting were coming through the darkenss and he went towards the cavern, starting to see the smaller alcoves to the sides. He couldn't understand what was going on... They were told not to engage.... The orcs were screaming something about drow...

Going into the cavern, he stopped halfway to the darkness, rapier in hand, staring at the line of orcs and where the minotaurs were with Hjalmar.

"Stop your fighting! We only wish to talk! We mean you no harm!" It had been a while since he spoke orc, and the words sounded rough, but then, the language was a rough language. He said nothing about being drow or not. If the orc in the darkness thought they were drow, perhaps that might work to their advantage until they could get them to talk... of course, a drow wouldn't have just said that they mean no harm either.

"We are not drow! Stop your fighting!" He noticed that they were all female, some clutching children in one hand, and a crude weapon in the other. He replaced his rapier in its sheath, and held the shamans staff forth, holding it so they could all see what it was. Orcs were tribal, and followed their leader. Or whoever killed them. He narrowed his eyes a little and glared at the line of orcs. "Your shaman is dead! I claim his leadership! You are now mine! Put your weapons down!" He prayed to Corellon that this orc tribe was like others, and the shaman held the power. He had the staff, and he was a magic user.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum, hearing the screams start, grabs his weapon and begins to head towards the commotion. After hearing Buna's orders he slows down but doesn't start to head back to the tunnel yet. All he's doing there is keeping an eye on the tunnel as the minotaurs bang away at the other side. Keeping an eye in the direction of the screams Magnum waits to see if his assistance is needed.

[loopy]

((If it seems like Johannes isn't doing much its because I've lost track of whats happening.))

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek walks towards the commotion, pausing with confusion when Arman brandishes the staff.
He cought a few words of that, knowing a few similar languages, but not enough to get more information then that Arman was saying something about death and leadership.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Not having any way to see in the magical darkness, Kelith will move to the edge of it and wait to see what comes out before he attacks it.

[mshady]

The Cavern

Sable continues to try and club the surging orcs into submission with her sap and it is rough going. While she has the advantage of fighting opponents that were essentially blind. The screaming and snarling of the orcs is occasionally punctuated by the sound of her leather sap thumping another one with her sap. Some of them were even going down; knocked unconscious. For Sable, this fight took remarkable restraint for her. It was one thing to sneak up behind someone and club them over the head; a sustained multi-opponent fight with just a club was much harder.

Much easier to just run them through with a rapier, but who says a job has to be easy?

The arrival of the minotaurs, wounded and still with their blood up from the recent battle, meant her time was short. They certainly seemed disciplined, but she was not sure how long the Paladin could hold them back. Looking back, she saw Hjalmar standing in front of two minotaurs who were bellowing at the orcs. The incredibly fierce creatures could sure be intimidating…
That was, incidentally, exactly what they did.

Rather than flying into a desperate, and clearly suicidal, attack against the minotaurs the orcs form a line and yell and whoop in reply but stay close and advance no further. They form a protective circle around the younger orcs and brandish their weapons, makeshift or real.

As Sable looks away from her battle to that battle, one of the orcs bull rushes right into her and knocks her down once again. As the orcs try to pile on to her, leaping towards the sound of something she was wearing clattering to the ground, she rolls away once more and sends yet another orc to the ground with her sap…

Finally, the main group runs into the cavern led by Arman Madero. He carries the orc shaman’s staff in his hands. Covered in grizzly fetishes and runes, the orcs howl in recognition at the staff.

In pidgin orc, Arman empathetically addressed orcs in their native language. Elven accented orcish is something odd to behold, although not quite traumatic to the ears as dwarven poetry. It seemed unnatural certainly.

Sheathing his rapier, Arman continues in a conciliatory tone before taking on a far more severe tone and gesturing to the shaman’s staff and at the orcs. His meaning was certainly clear.

The orcs stopped their howling and looked at each other, confused at first. They talked amongst each other as the room went otherwise silent. With a slumping resignation, orcs dropped their weapons with a clatter. Of the thirty orcs in the cavern not engaged with Sable most simply sat down on the cavern floor. A look of complete resignation and acceptance of their fate was on their faces. They expected the newly arrived dwarves to kill them, but none the less sat there pitifully. Many prayed.

One of the orcs advanced from the group. The orc female was clearly older and she walked with a significant limp, her greasy black hair streaked with white and pinched skin. Walking up to Arman, she drew in a wheezing breath and squinted at him.

“So, elf who killed my mate” the orc says in surprisingly good Illuskan, her face twisted and sour.

“You claim what remains of our tribe? You bear our Chieftain's stave? Well you have us. Claim our tribe!" she rasps.

"Or butcher the women and children like our warriors. End us, but be quick about it! Grummsh and many other Gods await us. Or maybe you be really like drow? Oh yes, good slaves we make” she taunts Arman and spits on the ground.

With no weapon but her own fierce pride, the orc came close to Arman and glared directly into his eyes.

"Now what, elf?" the orc says.

Behind the group, Carmard strides in and watches the exchange silently…

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek nudged Arman and whispered to him:

let me handle this friend, I've an inkling as to how their minds work

Then, his voice strong and confident, he addressed the orc tribe, first in common, then undercommon ,then in goblin to maximize the chances they would understand

Orcs! Your leader was strong, and he was brave, even as my axe descended upon him for the killing blow no fear showed in his eyes, a mighty and worthy foe he was. But he is no more, so I offer you 3 choices. First option, leave this cave and retreat to the Underdark, lick your wounds. But first all of you must swear upon Gruumsh's remaining eye, his spear and the soul of Aur Krasu the shaman that while any of you is still alive, you tribe will not participate in any war effort against surface dwarves or their allies. Second option, any one of you may fight me for the right to lead the tribe, if he or she should win, you have my word you will be allowed safe passage out of this cave. Third option, die here and now. what will it be

Then, he went to talk to Carmard, in dwarven

Sorry, but enough evil was already done in the name of purity of faith and race, it has to end somewhere

[ArmanMadero]

Arman held the staff that essentially gave him leadership of the tribe. A leadership he in no way intended to keep.

An older female walked towards him, her breaths wheezing and her hair greasy and black with gray. She had a definate limp, on the left side and Arman figured her for the lead female of the tribe.

“So, elf who killed my mate” she said, her face twisted and sour. Her Ilusken was well pronounced, and Arman had no troubles understanding her. “You claim what remains of our tribe? You bear our Chieftain's stave? Well you have us. Claim our tribe!" she rasps. "Or butcher the women and children like our warriors. End us, but be quick about it! Grummsh and many other Gods await us. Or maybe you be really like drow? Oh yes, good slaves we make."she taunted, spitting on the ground.

With no weapon but her own fierce pride, the orc came close to Arman and glared directly into his eyes. "Now what, elf?"[/green] she said.

Thordrek nudged him and said he would speak with the tribe, and before Arman could say anything he was speaking to the females and children, the older female watched him go by and start speaking, but said nothing and conitnued to look at Arman. There were no males that he could see within the group.

He continued to stare at the female, taking in her features and actually studying her. The only time he had really seen an orc up close was after they were dead, and they certainly didn't show the expressions the way a live one did.

[color=blue]"Orcs! Your leader was strong, and he was brave, even as my axe descended upon him for the killing blow no fear showed in his eyes, a mighty and worthy foe he was. But he is no more, so I offer you 3 choices. First option, leave this cave and retreat to the Underdark, lick your wounds. But first all of you must swear upon Gruumsh's remaining eye, his spear and the soul of Aur Krasu the shaman that while any of you is still alive, you tribe will not participate in any war effort against surface dwarves or their allies. Second option, any one of you may fight me for the right to lead the tribe, if he or she should win, you have my word you will be allowed safe passage out of this cave. Third option, die here and now. what will it be?" he then left to talk with Carmard, speaking in dwarven.

Arman understood the language, but didn't look away from the large female in front of him. She stood over him by more than a foot and a half, and he could tell that she was trying to intimidate him that way. He took in her dirty appearance, and wondered. A warlike race they might be more often than not, but they often didn't look so unclean.

Arman scowled a moment, before talking once more to the female, his face going more soft so as to not alarm her. "My name, is Arman Madero. I claim Silverymoon as my home. All I need from you first, is your name. I have no wish to kill you. I cannot have that which is dead. Your mate is with his god, whether or not he wishes to be there. I cannot take that back, nor do I wish to."

He looked to the female, and then to the rest of them, keeping his hand on the staff. He stepped back and addressed the whole clan that was now his."There will be no more fighting this day! All I require is information and your story. Then you can go. But first, the human you were fighting, is to be let go. Unharmed, and alive. She will fight you no more." He tok a moment to look past the lead female and yelled into the passage. "Sable! Come out here please! Stop fighting my tribe!" He then turned back to the female. He had thrown in that bit about them being his to remind them as well as inform Sable that something had changed.

"Stand here a moment while I talk with the dwarf." This last line he said in a way that left no room to argue. They were his. He knew that and they understood that.

He walked to where Thordrek and Carmard were, lowering his voice so that they were the only two that would hear. "I have claimed them by right of battle with the shaman. The shaman is dead, I have his staff to prove that. They will listen to me, if for no other reason than I own them now. They will do no fighting with me here. There will be no fighting to determine who rules them. That has already been established. I do. Carmard, is there anything you want me to ask of them? Now is the time to get information that we need. After that, I propose we let them go. Orcs are patriarchal, and a group of females this large will find it hard pressed to gather food for themselves. They depend on their males for that. They can gather minimal foods, but in the caves, they depend on the males...

Arman looked over to where they were bringing Sable, setting her down firmly on the floor, but bringing her no harm. "I need to get answers from them about what was going on here. They might also know who the other orcs were, and where to find the wyrm. Do you have anything else you would like me to find out?"

Arman was none too pleased with Thordrek for doing what he had done, but it was done. Nothing could reverse that.

[Melody]

Sable rolls out from underneath yet another pile of orcs and regains her feet. As her sap bounces off of yet another orc's noggin, she sees many of the orcs nearer to the barricade drop their weapons.

"Sable! Come out here please! Stop fighting my tribe!"

As understanding of what Arman is doing penetrates she quietly moves away from the knot of orcs that was nearest to her. She pauses a moment to take the time to catch her breath, straighten her clothes, and pull the goggles over her eyes before she steps out of the darkness. Her face is set in a happy grin and as the darkness begins to lift in sections behind her, the numerous orcs lying stunned on the cavern floor belie her casual attitude.

"Hey chief pointy ears!" Sable's grin widens, "We've got some prisoners back here you might want to see about."

[ArmanMadero]

Arman looks to the lead female, then back to Sable. "What prisoners? If you are talking about these orcs, they are not prisoners. If you are talking about something else, please enlighten me." Arman didn't mean to sound annoyed at her, and he would appologize later when they had more time. As long as they got the information they needed, he would let the females go, and they could continue with their missions and get out of this place.

[Melody]

Not the orcs, they had some guys chained and blindfolded in a side passage. Since I couldn't barricade the prisoners away from the orcs I decided to keep the orcs occupied out here. I figured they might kill the prisoners if we made a more direct assault.

Sable pulls a bladder of oil out of her pack. She pours a very small amount into her hand before recapping the oil and stowing it away. She begins to rub the oil into the leather of her sap.

I'd have let prisoners loose, but I don't know what the orcs have them chained up for.

She finishes oiling the leather sap and hangs it from her belt.

I figure the orcs have a key, so I won't need to pick the locks on the chains. Since I'm not needed for a bit, when you all have figured out what we're doing from here wake me up.

Sable walks over to the nearest wall and sits down putting her back to the wall with her pack as a prop. She wiggles around for a moment shifting small stones out of the way. Her hand is resting lightly on the hilt of her dagger and as her eyes close she talks one last time.

When you want to wake me up, just say my name. I'm a pretty light sleeper.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Once the darkness dissipates Kelith will walk over to the prisoners and check their conditions.

"So, should we let these prisoners free or is there some interrogation needed first?

{{I've got programs due this week, and finals next week so my slow posting will continue as I finish up this semester of college.}}

[ArmanMadero]

Arman glanced at Carmard. "Would you like anything asked?" We are running short on time, and I would like to know what a band of orcs is doing down here in the dark, along with their prisoners. I would also like to know what the other ones were, for they were not a pure orc. Sable what kind of prisoners did you see?"

[Melody]

Sable cracks open an eye, heaves a sigh, and pulls herself to her feet using the wall behind her to lever herself up.

Two guys and a bear. In chains. Back that way. She points down towards the back of the cavern. Suddenly she turns and heads back the way she pointed, muttering the entire way. Nevermind. I'll go unchain them. I'm never going to get any rest anyway.

Her voice trails off as she gets further away. Sable, we need to you to go take out some orcs. Don't hurt them though, they'll just be trying to stab you. Hey, while you're up go unchain a bear. It's probably hungry.

[ArmanMadero]

"Hold, Sable. Do nothing yet. We don't know why they are chained up. And a bear? I'm not sure unchaining him would be a good thing. Hes not in his element. And will more than likely attack anyone who gets in his path. Please, wait a moment until we figure out whats going on. As for the two men. Are you talking human? Or orc?"

[mshady]

Carmard listens to the conversation flow between Arman, Thordek, the orc and now Sable with seeming disinterest. When Arman looks towards him and puts the question to him a second time, he raises his hand and cuts him off, requesting silence.

He paces towards the gathering with a clank as his metal shod boots scrape along the floor of the cavern. He glances at Sable as he walks by when she starts to get up.

“Wait” is all Carmard says and motions for her to sit with a wave of the hand.

Arriving at Arman’s side, he takes a close look at the female orc before him. She glares at Carmard, eyes narrowing and growls as his eyes sweep over her first, followed by the assembly. He glances at the unconscious orcs left by Sable and smirks slightly. The orc in front of him catches the meaning and rasps at him in the harsh orcish tongue. Instead of addressing her directly, he speaks towards Arman.

“We need to know its name, the name of its tribe and why these orcs look different than the ones we fought. We need to know what they were doing here, who the sacrifices were, where they came from and the intent of this ceremony. Why the Devils? We must know their ties to the cult of Auril and if there was anyone else here besides them. Who the prisoners are too...

Find me with the answers. I must see towards the excavation outside. Split them off. You talk to this she-orc, Thordek talks to individuals. Compare the answers. The usefulness of their answers to me determines their fate. Ye be quick about it, elf” Carmard says, growling out the last part. His eyes linger on Arman a bit longer than normal, suspicion in his eyes but he says nothing else.

With that, Carmard turns on the balls of his feet and walks out of the small cavern and into the main chamber.

Arman presumably translate the questions to the main orc fairly directly while Thordek splits some off and begins interrogating them. The situation is explained to the orcs and that their fate depends on their answers. This contradicts some of what Arman had said, along with the obvious display by Carmard of giving orders to him in front of the orcs undercutting his credibility. Thordek has a much easier go of it with the individual orcs…

Listening to the many questions and even understanding some of what Carmard says, the female orc replies to Arman after the questions are put to her.

“Yes elf, we do have names” she sneers. “I am called Hal-Gur and many things behind my back, no doubt. We are the Rashuun tribe and have dwelled in the Underdark for many generations. When King Obould Who Is Grummsh called out to all tribes and sent their priests to fight the dwarves, their emissaries left not this place.” She smiles fiercely and displays a string of leathery ears along her belt.

“We did not answer their call, for Grummsh sent own priests to us many lives ago. They allied with our tribe 30 years ago. Our shaman came with them, challenged our old shaman Vruk for right to this tribe and won… rather convincingly. He took me as his mate. Ah, I so young than... He was a different orc than us, half of our blood, half of a devils and we sired several children. Which you just killed, certainly” she narrows her eyes and bars her tusks, feeble yet fearsome at her anger about that point.

“We did not settle well with the others. They though our children were wrong, perversions and the rest of the tribe tried to kill us. That was when more like Aur-Krasu came along with the Cold Priests and killed many of our warriors, captured the rest, tortured them all and my mate and those like him sired a new generation of them upon all who remained” she snorts at that, prideful but clearly not angered talking about the matter.

“It was Grummsh’s will” she says and looks down, frowning slightly. Finally, she shrugs and accepts her fate again before continuing…

“Last week, they drove the remaining few warriors out because they were mongrel orcs and sacrificed the ones he caught to Grummsh and the Cold One. Those prisoners were captured just before, sent by the town to see the Underdark. Two we fought to keep, for Aur Krasu intended them as sacrifices. The rest we traded with the Cold priests who came for weapons and magic, and were well rewarded. My idea. He left the torturing to us, he always does. Such is not fit for a warrior.” she says with a laugh.

“I never minded” she says with a twisted smirk. “They would to us. Look at you? Come and kill everyone, blood everywhere, magic, thunder, death? Such is the way of the Underdark...”

Hal-Gur takes a deep, wheezing breath and coughs several times before she can continue.

“The sacrifices in the ice were just brought by the Cold priests one cycle ago. We know not where they came from or who. Or care. A rare treat for our chieftain and a break from worry we'd end up on that altar. They always sacrificed before the devils were brought fourth and took orc form to sire the purest blood. We were told by the priests to take the devils after the summoning and march to the surface to serve Grummsh. Not now though, you killed us first” Hal-Gur says and frowns deeply.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman narrowed his eyes a moment at Carmard and then shrugged. He looked to the femle orc again. "We of the surface lead differently than you do. You are mine, as I fought your shaman and won his staff. In a way, you are also his, since he is my leader at the moment. However, you will not take orders from him. They will come from me. I take mine from him. He doesn't give you orders. I do. And since he gave me the order, that I cannot let you go, unless you tell us everything, then I cannot. Arman seemed to look a little upset about this, but shook his head and looked to the female Orc.

"Please, answer our questions and you can go. I have no intention of spilling any more blood right now.

He listened as the female orc, whos name was Hal-Gur, told him a few things of what they wanted to know. But not everything he noted. He looked to her again. "Why devils? Why would they bring them here to, he thought for a moment, "sire more perversions as your tribe saw them. Why not gather some of Oboulds Army and bring them here for that?"

"How did the aurilites come to this place? Why did they come here and choose your tribe? Was there anyone else here besides your tribe and the aurilites and the devils? You said that the sacrifices in the other room were brought a cycle ago. How long is a cycle in above ground terms? And the prisoners you said came from the town. What town did they hail from? Where did the bear come from and why are you keeping it here?

"What were you to do on the surface with the Devils?"

[thorgrim29]

So, basically, you were to serve Obould as an elite force, a bit like that half ogre tribe,forgot the name. but now the fighting has ended, or at least abated, so the Aurilites took over. Thats a bit odd to be sure, but not unthinkable what with the hundreds of tribes that flocked to take Mythral Hall.

What we need is information, names, organizations, who hates whom within the cold priests, so get to it.

[mshady]

The information Thordek gathers parallels the information gathered by Arman from Hal-Kur. In Thordek's case, he seperatea one of the orcs and talks to them in a corner. She seems intelligent enough, for an orc, and borderline terrified.

"So, basically, you were to serve Obould as an elite force, a bit like that half ogre tribe,forgot the name. but now the fighting has ended, or at least abated, so the Aurilites took over. Thats a bit odd to be sure, but not unthinkable what with the hundreds of tribes that flocked to take Mythral Hall.

What we need is information, names, organizations, who hates whom within the cold priests, so get to it." Thordek rattles off in reply as he demands more, and clearer information.

The orc's eyes go wide at the question momentarily.

"No! No... Obould Who Is Gruumsh sent emissaries out, other priests, to call in all of the orc tribes. The Cold One's priests have been here for years, I think. Many years. Before Mithril Hall. They came her and our chieftain, he tortured and killed them. Said Gruumsh had different plan for us. We didn't mean to kill them at first, but they wouldn't leave without an answer. Our warriors are not like other orcs, hate and look down upon us because they are so powerful. So... they didn't leave. He sent out war parties and stole the females from other tribes who left their caves and never came back. He brought back dozens. Many died but... two score still live and were to be used.

After that celebration, they were to march off to war again. To the surface somewhere... Please, no kill me! I don't know..." she says and sobs.

[thorgrim29]

(Am I right about the timeline? We're somewhere after then end of Hunter's blade right?)

Hearing this, thordrek exclaims, in dwarven:
You have to love regimes based on the blind obedience of idiots....

Then, switching back to undercommon (or goblin, whatever language the orc speaks)

Lets see if I understand... Your former leader was breeding half devil mongrels for the Aurilites, then Obould's summons came, and he had you kill and torture the envoys because Gruumsh had other plans for you then to follow his manifestation on this plane and fight the remnants of Delzoun and their elf and human allies. And you bought that. And he also had you capture females from other tribes to breed faster.

He shakes his head in dismay

Damn it all to hell, these orcs are victims as much as anything, we can't kill them, not with an actual treaty between Battlehammer and Obould

That's all very interesting, but the here and the now is that we don't have time to reconstruct all the events. So, I have a few questions, answer to the best of your knowledge.

Did your tribe send warriors away to the cold priests'?
Do you know of other tribes like yours
What can you tell me of the Aurilite's organization?

[mshady]

Thordek addresses the orc in under-common, trying not to sound too condescending

“Let’s see if I understand... Your former leader was breeding half devil mongrels for the Aurilites, then Obould's summons came, and he had you kill and torture the envoys because Gruumsh had other plans for you then to follow his manifestation on this plane and fight the remnants of Delzoun and their elf and human allies. And you bought that. And he also had you capture females from other tribes to breed faster.”

The orc listens to it and shrugs.

“Well…” the orc says. “We did not know at the time?” she says by way of the excuse. “We do what Aur-Krasu said or he'd tear out our throats. Happened often, even if we did... We are chattel to them. We were told. They come and call us out but see what Aur-Krasu and the Cold Ones and the Devils made of us. Aur-Krasu says they demanded us but loathed us. Jealousy? Aur-Krasu thought he was blessed too and would bow to no other orc mere orc. When things settled, the warriors almost went out after Obould but the Cold Ones would not let us."

Again, the orc shrugs and listens.

“Half our warriors were sent to the old dwarf halls several days ago and given heavy furs to wear. I do not know how many other tribes like this one exist in the Dark, but there are others. Sometimes several shamans would meet with the cold ones, going to the old halls? Sometimes dragons would be there too… The Cold Ones? What else? I do not know. They come and go, their priests, of many races. Out the tunnels which you came. They came before the last pure orcs were sent away. Sometimes they would bring us slaves too. They kept many slaves at the old halls. We were going to send the two prisoners there maybe, if they survived. What else you want to know?”

Moving from melancholy and fear to a bit of excitement, a realization hits the orc.

"What is a manifestation? Is he really Grummsh too? They say but Aur-Krasu mocked his name" Than she scowls at Thordek. "As if a stumpy dwarf would tell. You'd as soon kill him and us too..."

[thorgrim29]

A manifestation, well, it's a bit like an avatar. From what I understand, there was a big ritual involving animals and a lot of shamans, and since then Obould has claimed he is the avatar of your god or something like that. Is it true? I don't know, and I don't particularly care. As to killing him, I couldn't even if I wanted, and I'm not sure I do. Orcs and dwarves have been killing each other for millenia, but Obould seems to want peace with his neighbors, and if it's true, well why not give it a shot?

You however.... I do not want to kill you or your's, but it is not my decision. If your answers don't please my boss here, I'm sure the minotaurs will do the job with their usual glee.

Thordrek is genuinely saddened by the endless warfare, as is apparent in his voice. He is a dwarf, and will do what is necessary, but he is also a scholar and something of a philosopher. He murmurs a phrase he found in a Netherese ruin, of course, the pronunciation is off.

For what can war, but endless war still breed?

[Melody]

Sable waited respectfully until the babble of orcish and whatever other gibberish was being spoken fell silent. Sable looks over at Carmard.

Those prisoners looked pretty worn down, I figure it wouldn't be any trouble for me to get them loose for you and they might need a minute to calm that bear down. No time like now to start. If that's alright with you sir? I'll get these orcs off the floor into the barracks they have set up.

Sable walks over to a nearby Orc and nudges them lightly to get their attention. She points at one of the unconscious orcs on the floor then points back towards where she knows the barracks is. She points at other prone forms then back at the barracks again.

Sable tilts her head to the side as if remembering something.

Oh, and Carmard, there's a door back here that looks like it belonged to that shaman we laid out. Warded and such, I didn't have much time to look at it earlier. Might want to have a look at what's behind the door. Considering the difficulty of magic he was casting I'd be happier having you or one of the mages taking a look at it before I do.

[mshady]

Duervar, Nalrak and Magnum

Carmard clunks out of living areas and into the main cavern when the steady bang – bang – bang of the minotaurs on the other side continues. Looking at Duervar, Nalrak and Magnum he frowns as they stand and watch.

He shakes his head and glowers at Duervar, who look back at him with defiant look although he’s not yet sure what he is defying beyond the principle of someone about to disapprove of him with or without cause.

“Three dwarves with picks by a tunnel, and what do I find? They be standing around?” his eyebrows raise and fall and he shakes his head. “Why?” Carmard says, his tone rather cool.

Duervar glares at him and points at the half formed tunnel.

"Them bulls? They’re gonna get through, ye can bet yer beard on that but they’ll bring the top down on’em when they do. They ain’t cutt’n it right!” Duervar retorts.

"So we’re standin’ out here tryin’ to make sure it don’t be fall’n on our heads when it does!” The dwarf sounds very angry and indignant, and the others glance at him with concern. Carmard never seemed to have a temper, but Duervar could certainly provoke one! The Arcanii's tone seems to unnerve Duervar once again.

Carmard does not respond at first. He looks Duervar right in the eyes and takes a deep, weary breath. Duervar shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

“Than why don’t ye tell’em?” Carmard asks. He may as well have asked Duervar if he was stupid. The surly dwarf almost explodes in response and the others take a step away, but Duervar calms himself.

“Oh, now how do I be doing that? Tap it to’em?” Duervar snaps.
“No… Swim back. The human woman left a rope tied off. Go tell them to wait. Than tell them how to mine. Take your pick. ” Duervar says and points towards the water.

Duervar seems at a loss for words, sputters and walks off. Carmard watches him strip down to the waist and dive in, leaving his armor behind as he goes into the water, his pick slung over his back.Watching and listening, Carmard says nothing as the banging drums on, and on and on.

Than it stops.

“Good, he can do something right at least... ”

Carmard sighs and turns to look at the rubble again, Carmard sees Sable standing next to him. If he had any idea she was there, he seems unphased by it but Sable had watched much of the exchange.

“Yes, Sable?” Carmard asks.

[mshady]

"Those prisoners looked pretty worn down, I figure it wouldn't be any trouble for me to get them loose for you and they might need a minute to calm that bear down. No time like now to start. If that's alright with you sir? I'll get these orcs off the floor into the barracks they have set up."

Sable gestures towards the caverns with the orcs.

"Oh, and Carmard, there's a door back here that looks like it belonged to that shaman we laid out. Warded and such, I didn't have much time to look at it earlier. Might want to have a look at what's behind the door. Considering the difficulty of magic he was casting I'd be happier having you or one of the mages taking a look at it before I do."

Carmard listens intently, especially to the last part.

"Buna could have directed you on this matter, but... interesting. Why was I not informed?" Carmard sighs, not particularly caring to wait for the answer.

"Ye take the gnome arcanist and head back there. He looks sober still if ye can get him out of his cups soon. Kelith too, in case its more divine magic. Check the door and REPORT the wards to Buna. She'll know what to do.

As fer the prisoners, take Bundok. He might be able to calm the bear but I nay want it loose till it is and we have an explanation fer WHY a bear be in the Underdark. The prisoners get released first though. I want them questioned too, but it be look'n like they were next for the altars and if they were accomplished in any regard, likely the bait for a bigger devil. They best hope that devil nay has their name yet and be expect'n them. Might be trouble 'hen we leave this Plane. Now, some peace for my mind to study this, eh?" Carmard says.

Hearing his name and feeling Carmard's imperious gaze, Arum Faer Wed grumbled and curses, takes another swig and stumbles over to Sable.

"Oh bother, now what?" Arum says, feeling grouchy but trying to be less surly than he feels

[Strangie]

(Sorry I haven't been too active around here. I haven't really found a good place to jump in with Bundok on anything, up until this point - I've also been waiting to use my own character since he happens to be one of the prisoners, eh heh. Let's see if I can make this work...)

Bundok, hearing his name - and the words "bear in the underdark" - lumbers on over quickly past Carmard, following Sable whenever she goes. "A freakin' bear all the way down here!? I'll be... maybe it belongs to one of the prisoners? Animal companions aren't entirely unheard of, ye know. It would explain why it'd be here in tha first place."

[Melody]

Sable smiles at Carmard before turning to the rest.

You heard the boss, Arum, Kelith, and Bundok, right this way gentlemen. She nods as Bundok speaks, I bet you're exactly right. We'll walk by the door first then back to the prisoners.

She leaves Arum and Kelith at the door and returns with Bundok to the prisoners. Sable kneels by the semi conscious prisoner and removes his blindfold. Bundok is already inspecting the bear for its hurts, apparently unconcerned that the beast is bigger than the two of them put together. She turns and speaks to the prisoner.

Easy fella, we're gonna get you out of here. No danger at the moment, but it will be easier on us both if you hold still for a bit so I can get these chains off. Now I think we're both on the same side, so don't go doing anything stupid when I set you loose.

[Strangie]

Bundok assesses the bear's injuries first, but leaves it for now before waking it up - preferring to let the actual owner do that bit when they're able - and then goes to the other unconscious prisoner, next.

Heal Check, Bear: [roll0]
Heal Check, Prisoner #2: [roll1]

[Katasi]

Arum sighs and gets up. "Fine, let's have a look at this magic then" He silently runs his fingers through the air as if feeling the magic, and contemplates for a few moments before mumbling softly to himself.

[roll0]

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum, feeling kind of left out, does get a smirk upon hearing one of Duervar responses and as the darker dwarf heads off he begins to play the beats of common songs on the wall the bulls are hammering on leaving out important sections to see if the minotaurs will join in on the game.

[mshady]

After several repetitions against the wall with his own pick, one of the minotaurs tap back. They don't quite get it right, but they're playing along.

Carmard watches from the rubble and shakes his head.

"When you've had yer fun playing tap tap with the bulls, get back to work" he grumbles out.

[mshady]

Bundok looks over the bear carefully. Very carefully. It may be chained up, muzzled and tied down for extra measure, but who knew how strong it actually was or how well it was actually shackled?

Not risking his fingers or life, Bundok can't tell much from probbing the creature tenatively. It looks like it was beaten down by one of the ogres or something...

The two prisoners look like they are in similar, rough shape. The hin, however, is drifting in and out of consciousness. Hin, being mostly harmless, are far less risky than a bear so Bundok shakes him...

Groggily, the prisoner wakes up...

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Following Sable, he arrives at the object in question; giving it a thorough looking over. He let's Arum examine it first before giving it a go himself.

He'll close his eyes as he whispers to Kossuth, "Kossuth Lord of Fire give your vessel eyes to see that which blocks my path." With that Kelith opens his eyes and you notice a glow, and a ever changing rush of colors that glaze them over as he looks over the wards.

{{Casting detect magic if the wards don't seem to be a type of inscription, or read magic if they do seem to be a type of inscription.

Either way, still taking a spellcraft check: [roll0]}}

[Strangie]

(http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b44/Strangie/wyattakturusbonk.png It's a halfling, actually, but oh well)

Wyatt

The little man's eyes flutter open, glancing around quickly. His eyes shift up at the scruffy dwarf standing over him.

"Wha...? Oh... hello. You're not an orc, are ya. That mean you're not delivering my daily beatdown?" He shuffles a little, noting that he's tied down in chains. "Damnitall..."

Bundok shakes his head. "We ain't here to hurt ya, we're cuttin' ya loose."

Wyatt only manages to nod a little. "That's fine. I think I can manage, now that no bloody orc's watchin' me, heh. Hang on, just a sec..." With that, Wyatt wriggles about, trying to free himself from the chains.

Wyatt's Escape Artist: 31 - If d20 roll is less than 10 and fails, attempt again and take 10 instead. If THAT fails... let someone else figure it out, haha.

EDIT: Change of plans. Take 20 instead if all else fails, or until someone else finds a way to break him out.

EDIT yet again: Argh, sorry. When I edited it the first time it goofed up the dice roll and it wouldn't display right so I tried to fix it, but then it said POST ROLL COUNT DOESN'T MATCH DATABASE and I don't know what that means. The original total roll was a 1d20+16 for 31, so I just left that much in there. Sorry about that.

Not that it matters, Mike told me at work that it was an auto-fail anyway. Supposedly. THANKS A LOT. Geez.

[mshady]

OOC: He's just so fun to mess with...

Large post incoming tonight to get us out of the bloody cave...

[mshady]

The Cell

Bundok, Sable and the others gathered around take a step back from the halfling and look skeptically between each other. Shackled and wrapped in chain, his position looks fairly impossible. The weight of his bindings alone would make him collapse if they were not supported by big iron studs driven into the stone.

“He’s gonna get outta that?” Bundok snorts.

Heedless to his skeptics, the halfling takes a deep breath and leans back and twists, shedding a chain around his shoulder. Step by methodical step, the halfing sheds most of the coiled rope and chain. The activity looks strenuous and even a bit painful, and clearly the halfling is some kind of double jointed phenomena. Pulling himself up the wall with his surprisingly wiry muscles, he twists his wrist and compresses his hand enough to slide it slowly out of the first shackle.

The second shackle is a snap. The leg shackles are a big tougher for the halfling to escape from due to his overlarge feet. Sighing, he bends down and removes the bent over leg pins and they come free.

Relaxing for a moment, the halfling looks over at the other prisoners and removes theirs as well without consulting anyone. Noting the clearly apprehensive look concerning the freeing of the bear, the halfling continues anyways. The two are still unconscious and don’t move, but they’re certainly free.

The Shaman’s Quarters

Kelith, Arum, Arman and others gather around the shaman’s quarters after Sable got around to pointing them out. The trio examine the door as carefully as they can given the time that they have; which from Carmard’s tone is not a lot.

The wards are fairly straight forward, thankfully; powerful but not subtle whatsoever. They are more designed to keep the other orcs out than any subtle intruders. When Kelith casts his [I] detect magic [/I[ spell on the entry portal, the response is fairly mind numbing. A lot of magic there…

As if the boldly marked runes with their subtle glow of power was not enough of an indication of that. The wards appear to be the kind that would explode if passed by someone of the wrong faith, or kind in any rate.

Fortunately, the resolution to this was fairly simple.

Withdrawing a scroll from his satchel, Arum fumbles for it. Slurring his way through the largely completed incantations and focusing his will with some difficulty, Arum successfully gets off the spell and a pulse of argent white light erupts from him directed at the door and surrounding wall.

The spells react by flashing in protest and energy “bleeds” from them in a brief, beautiful rainbow of energy as the spells unwind and disintegrate. The runes, etched in blood and crushed diamond melt away as the dispelling dweomer disrupts the pattern of the magic that constituted the spells..

That left the raw magically energy that went into those wards however, and it is released simultaneously with a thunder crack of force and light that knocks them on their arses.

Laughing maniacally as the remains of the door spin on the cavern floor near him, Arum stands up and dusts himself off.

“We’re alright! Little oops with the door!”

Inside is all sorts of personal equipment, including two satchels containing much of the personal equipment of the prisoners. Bags of gems, ingots of gold, books and other items adorn the room. Looking inside, various weapons hang from the wall.

“Trophy room too? Oi, we hit the pot o’gold with this!” Arum exclaims before rushing into the room to catalog it all, nearly tripping over himself…

[Strangie]

(I'm assuming Mike is taking control of Bundok at this point.)

Wyatt

He glances around a little, scratching his head, shrugging at the bear and the other prisoner. "Don't worry too much about the bear. Doesn't really look like it's in any condition to do anything anyway." Then he hears the explosion from the shaman's room, instinctively ducking and covering his head slightly, but only for a moment. "Whoa! Sounded like that came from the head honcho's room! Uh... hey." He glances between Sable and Bundok, walking past them. "My name's Wyatt, and thanks for clearin' out those orcs and all. I'd like to pick up my things before anything else though. No worries, right? Right."

With that, Wyatt continues his way to the shaman's room, glancing at all the adventurers. To anybody who gives him a funny look, "Don't mind me. I'm harmless. Being bound in chains tends to do that. I'd just like my stuff back, that's all." He goes into the shaman's room at the earliest opportunity and collects his personal belongings as soon as he can find them, while Arum is distracted with all the shinies in the room.

[ArmanMadero]

OOC: i take it that the conversation between me and Hal-Gur are done and over with since I am now at the door...?

[mshady]

No, but going to wrap it up... assume everything told to Thordek is also repeated to Arman.

[loopy]

((Trophy room? Oh, shiny!))

[thorgrim29]

(( yeah, the interrogation is finished, and i want shiny too:smallbiggrin:))

[ArmanMadero]

:biggrin:((okily dokily))

[thorgrim29]

((Fladerrrrrrrs:smallfurious:))
this is just to accommodate the forum

[ArmanMadero]

((Hee hee))

[Melody]

Sable grins as Wyatt walks past her.

I'd hurry up if I were you Wyatt. I left a half drunk, better make that completely drunk gnome back at the shaman's room. If he has a case of itchy fingers he might convince himself he can wear your extra clothes.

She chuckles and shakes her head before leaning out of the alcove to yell.

I need a healer in here to see about these prisoners. Sable turns and looks at Bundok. See about that bear would you? Hopefully he belongs to one of those two fellows on the ground, but I'd feel better if you kept an eye on him. She pauses. It. Sable pauses another moment to study the furry lump. Her? She shakes her head. Or whatever. I'll be trying to keep an eye on our guest.

She chuckles as she watches Wyatt walk ahead of her. I haven't seen anyone move like that since that dancer at the Dripping Dagger. Almost as much fun to watch too.

[mshady]

DM Note: Once again, apologies for the delay. Real life happened and I’ve been burning the candle on both ends and the center. From Christmas shopping to cleaning drains under arctic conditions and bailing out basements, I don’t think I’ve had much of a free moment for 2 weeks. OMG!

DM Note 2: Arman is still at the door with Hal-Gur. Not going to rewrite for consistency at this point but…

Interrogation

The female orc that Thordek is talking to listens very intently to him as he tells some of the tale of Obould Many Arrow’s seeming apotheosis. Hal-Gur even catches part of the conversation and turns her ear in his direction.

“So it is true? Aur-Krasu was the false one..” the female orc says. Again, she appears excited before Hal-Gur hisses at her.

“True or not, watch your tongue La’krus or I’ll have it the moment they leave” Hal-Gur says. A fierce gaze withers the younger orc and she steps away, ignoring any other questions..

Thordek joins Arman in the discussion with Aur-Krasu now and the orc addresses Thordek…

“Orcs and dwarves have been killing each other for millennia you say? It is the way of things. Over that millennia my race flourishes and yours dies. That will be the way of things.” she says. Taller than Thordek, she glares down at him imperiously, ignoring her actual position in the discussion.

“You speak that Obould and the Delzoun dwarves have made a kind of peace? I doubt the words of dwarves. Such is impossible and I see why Aur-Krasu was raising his tribes. He would have wanted to kill Obould for that. He may carry Grummsh’s blessing but Aur-Krasu was spiritualized. So close to Grummsh was my mate that he could commit no sin before him. His children were above mere orcs and THEY are above the petty beliefs. So yes, he was followed” Again she smiles fiercely.

“I’m glad he is dead though. Even I was chattel to him, even if I take pride in my children and my mate. I shall answer all of your questions in return for passage to Obould. I bother not with asking if you agree to this as you will do as you wish as victors. The elf holds the totem pole as well…”

Frowning at that, she continues.

“Aur-Krasu had an older and younger brother. Each had families, number 3, 5 and 4 including Aur-Krasu’s children. There are 16 tribes like ours spread throughout the darkness under the Spine. They have enslaved or made vassal of other tribes. The White Dragon and its giants control the mountains above. We pay respect to their God in near equal way, as was Aur-Krasu’s way, for their God controls the land we live and access to raid, hunt and gather. We control the below, they control the above but place great demands us at first till the tribal leaders joined in their fanaticism. Alliance or faith, I know not for truth. We send many warriors to the cold ones; recently too. Some take prisoners to join many others in the deep mines. They have 300 or so there? Aur-Krasu's elder brother is there in the old dwarf halls with them and there roosts one of the White Dragon's sons.

As for Aurilites… they are led by the Dragon. The dragon captures other dragons, mates them and feasts upon their flesh as he spreads his children throughout the Spine. Perhaps as many as 20 live? I cannot keep their long names straight. Now… I have answered your question. I shall gather up the few remaining amongst us and settle matters while you decide our fates.
Kill any of the warriors you find; they can survive much. So long as they remain whole, many amongst them can recover from their wounds.”

She smiles wryly.

“I would be quick about it”

Laughing harshly to herself, she walks over to the orc that had been talking to Thordek and slaps her repeatedly across the face and head until she lays on the floor in a sobbing heap.

“Never talk to the dwarves again!”

None of the other orcs moved to oppose her. One even went so far as to kick the sobbing orc.

Looking back at her dismayed captors, her smile twists into one full of blackened, broken teeth.

“We are free to go you said? My hand is free than. Do not interfere.”

[mshady]

The Cavern

Hal-Gur’s warning is quickly relayed to Carmard, who seems a bit shaken by the news. Dispatching the two minotaurs, they spend several minutes stomping about the battlefield taking the heads of all of the orcs that still have them.

Walking over to their only prisoner that had been saved from his wounds on the field, Carmard watches its wounds intently for several minutes in studied silence. Standing slowly, he draws out his pistol and shoots the orc in the skull and takes its head as well. The two minotaurs gather the trophies into a pyramid in the center of the cavern and douse it with oil. The corpses themselves are dragged into the area as well, like logs waiting for a fire. The blood slicked room is far from a pretty scene…

After the better part of half an hour, Duervar, Magnum and Nalrak pound their way through the crumbled wall with the occasional assistance of the minotaurs, who stop to play the tapping game every once in awhile. The minotaurs are clearly wounded from their close proximity to the Stoneburner. Their armor has been stripped off and is malformed by the heat; wearable but damaged. Their own fur has been singed and is puffy from burns. Compared to the wounds sustained by Kerik and Gore, they seem in ruddy health but are exhausted.

They drag with them the empty sarcophagus of Barauk. The blackened container is empty now, the Stoneburner inside it gone. Neither minotaurs looks very happy.

Kerik and Gore go over to join them and the minotaurs... grunt amongst themselves for a short time. Furious glances are tossed in Carmard's direction but the minotaurs do not act on their furor for the moment at how Carmard nearly killed them all...

[mshady]

Inside the living quarters, the rest of the party is gathered around Aur-Krasu’s living chamber. The power of the wards that had been unleashed after the dispelling magic unraveled them so chaotically leaves the area warm and tingly from the aura of the magic in the area.

Buna and others riffle through the orc’s chambers, taking scroll tubes, treasure and most of the items on his trophy rack. Most are mundane weapons but some are covered in runes and made with known, but unusual, weapons. Two chests of gold ingots, gems and coin are also hauled out.

Arum goes so far as to try and take a tapestry but gives up. With all he can haul out, the gnome nonetheless eyes Wyatt’s equipment with a gleeful greed before the halfing arrives to dissuade him with sharp tongued discouragement. The gnome wanders out to the main cavern for trophy hunting, slicing off hits here and there including some off Aur-Krasu’s corpse.

The other prisoner is another halfing, bit of a large one but a halfing nonetheless. He is still unconscious from his beatings, however. Among the loot found in the area is a saddle large enough for the girth of the black bear, thus answering the question as to what a bear and a halfing were doing in the Underdark; the Halfing rode the bear.

With all the loot gathered and foes properly disposed of, Carmard orders everyone back into the central cavern. With the rubble from the Stoneburner radiating heat and light continually as a backdrop, Carmard addresses the group.

“Ye have fought well against high odds without losses in what any sane dwarf would call suicidal odds. That we are not all in Moradin’s Halls now is a testament to your skill and our valued allies. I am sure many of ye have some thoughts you would like to be sharin’ with me about unleashing the Stoneburner. While Arcanii are not ones to discuss their decisions, I gambled your lives and do owe ye an explanation on that basis alone. We’re to set out now after what was lost. Some of ye will on ahead to our rendezvous to plan the attack. The rest shalt come with me. Gather yer kit and be about it.”

Turning to Hal-Gur and the remaining female orcs, he looks at them with cold indifference.

“Buna will give ye a map she prepared. It is a route through the darkness out of here. It is not the way we came, however so be mindful. This is a place of many ways; I’m sure you know them better. Take the seal and letter to the Battlehammers or your ilk explaining matters and our terms and I’m sure ye shall be treated fairly. Now… depart before we do.”

Hal-Gur snaps the map and letters from Buna and glares at her. She walks close to the pyramid of skulls and searches about it till she finds the stripped remains of Aur-Krasu. Looking at it silently for many moments, she kneels down by it sighs, even seems to sob for a moment before she returns to her group. After talking amongst her group, they take what gathered supplies they have and march out under the watchful eyes of all of the group…

[thorgrim29]

Maybe there is a way that doesn't end with mothers mourning their children and grandchildren, and maybe there is none. Go, and do not mistake compassion and hope for weakness.

He looks sadly at the march as the remnants of the tribe exit the cave.

Well then, anything in that pile for me?

[Strangie]

Wyatt nods at Sable's words, quickly making his way across and waves off Arum before he can nab his gear. "Hey! Hands off. I waited forever to get my stuff back, I ain't havin' it taken from me now." With a nod, he collects his gear and straps everything back on, checking to make sure everything is in place. He whirls a very high quality trap kit on his finger for a moment, putting that away and inspecting a well made light mace with a light green tint, otherwise unremarkable in appearance. "Okay. All my stuff's here. Gotta hand it to ya - I was on the brink of havin' to try and bust outta here all by myself. Damn, stupid orcs..." He twirls the bat-like mace in his hand, flipping it once around in the air before catching it again and putting it away, returning to Sable and grinning up at her.

"Hey! Uh... what was your name again? I don't think I caught it. Sorry - and while we're at it, I'll need to talk to your, uh... commandin' officer. I wanna get out of this nasty pit already. I feel like I need a fresh wash after hanging around with these orcs for so long."

He mutters to himself, scratching the back of his head. "Feels like it's been a while, anyway, I lost track... ugh..."

[ArmanMadero]

Arman listens to what Hal-Gur has to say and thinks for a moment, his hand rubbing his chin a little. When Hal-Gur takes her leave from him to deal with her tribe, he doesn't interfere, and in fact looks upon it in indifference. He didn't like to see anyone get hurt, however, this was in fact Hal-Gurs tribe, even if he held the totem.

Soon enough it seemed that they would all be let go to find Obould's tribe or the Battlehammer clans, and they gathered up everything they had. Carmard and some others were busy hacking off the heads and piling up the bodies of the dead orcs. Hal-Gur, at one point, went to her dead husband, and seemed to be sad over the death of him.

Arman didn't really understand, but he thought he did. Regardless if he had been mean to them all, he had been her mate. Arman thought he could relate, but wasn't sure. He walked up to Hal-Gur before she left.

"Your mate is dead. And for that I am sorry that you feel as you do. I am not sorry he is dead." Arman looked at her carefully before putting his hand out, offering the staff. "Here you have a chance to become leader. Lead your tribe to Battlehammer. Or Obould. Just lead. Become what your mate kept you from becomming. You are leader of your tribe now. I give you leadership of the tribe. We will not attack you, and you will not attack us. We go our seperate ways today." He spoke in orcish, to make himself more understood.

He wasn't sure if she would take the staff, but kind of hoped that she would. Then, she wouldn't have to worry that an elf led her tribe, and she could make sure the rest of the tribe kept silent on it. If she did not take the staff, well, then he had another weapon.

After they left, he went to check on what was all pulled out of the room, and listened to what Carmard said. The group would be splitting. Arman wondered who would be going where.

[loopy]

((Sorry, did we get any treasure or not? I'm not entirely sure. I'm just staying quiet because I don't really have much to add to this conversation.))

[thorgrim29]

((yeah, a few posts up, a few chests of gold and jewels plus magic and mundane weapons and other stuff.))

[mshady]

Loot will be handled when you have a chance to rest, which will be soon enough...

[Katasi]

Arum helps to finish looting the trophy room and then gets ready to move on when everyone else is ready.

[Melody]

I'm afraid there isn't much to bathe with around here Wyatt. Sable smiles and reaches over her shoulder into her pack. She fishes around for a moment before pulling out a bit of cloth and moistening it with some water from her waterskin. The boss is right over there. She nods at Carmard. And I, she smiles, am Sable.

[loopy]

Johannes pokes around the trophy room for any new books or scrolls.

[Katasi]

Arum walks over to where Wyatt and Sable are talking and nudges Wyatt. "And quite a good looking teammate to, isn't she?" he pauses before going on "If you like them talk at least."

[Strangie]

Wyatt looks over his shoulder, at Arum. "Figures you'd say something like that, you look the type. Sure, sure, I'll agree with that and I like a pretty woman as much as the next guy. But I don't think this is a time to be discussing such things. I want to be able to get out of this dump and live long enough to look at pretty women, you get me?" He shrugs, looking up at Sable. "Nice to meet you, Sable. Thanks for the tip, I'll go talk to him right now. But I'll be back!"

(EDIT: Gonna save the other half of this post for my next post so he can reply to Sable's words from her last post properly.)

[Katasi]

Arum grins. "Don't worry, you're safe with us. We took out the orcs didn't we?"

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

"Well, as safe as one can be in here; the name's Kelith by the way. Physician and warrior, as needed.

But the life stories will have to wait, it's about time we finished up our stop here and got moving again."

[Melody]

Careful what you volunteer for Wyatt. I'm not saying that you couldn't hack it or anything, but if you're going with us I want to know I can count on you. So think about what you're saying before you decide.

Sable lays the improvised wash cloth down on a relatively clean rock.

Listen, I'm not trying to scare you off or anything, but figure that this little skirmish might be the least of what we run into later on. So you think about that mess back in the cavern, and you think about your chances getting out of here without us. I figure you've got even odds either way. Maybe better than even if you ditch the bear and your friend.

She looks away and begins checking her gear. With automatic movements she begins fastening and refastening ties and buckles. She checks her weapons, the rapier at her hip, a dagger hidden behind her belt, another in her boot, her bow, and quiver of arrows. She unties her hair and puts it up again in a high ponytail recapturing the wisps that got free earlier. She sighs and looks down at Wyatt.

But I figure you might have been able to get free without them before and you didn't. Which means you didn't want to abandon them here. So whatever you choose Tymora smile on the choice.

She turns to leave.

I'm going to see about replacing my arrows and cloak. Good luck Wyatt. If I don't see you later it was nice meeting you.

[Strangie]

Wyatt listens to Sable's words intently, nodding slowly. "I might not look like much now but I can assure you that I will repay a debt owed, providing you all let me." He cracks a smile. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon."


With that, he gives a little two-fingered salute to Sable and Arum as he turns around, walking toward Carmard, trying to wave him down after he's done with his speech and leading the orc noncombatants off. "Hello? Hey, are you the man in charge? You guys must've done a bang-up job on these orcs because they're lookin' pretty, uh... dead. Thanks for bailing me out, but... I should probably get going, you think? Is it even still safe here?" He glances around quickly at all the characters around him. "I suppose maybe I could lend you guys a hand in... whatever you're trying to do. Hopefully kill the rest of the stupid bastards that put me here in the first place, yeah? It's the least I could do."

[mshady]

Hal-Gur listens to the words of first Thordek and Arman with skepticism.

“Don’t tell me you want the bloodshed to end after shedding it. Dwarf, not long ago you stormed into this cave. You killed everyone. Why? You have good reason now but why than, eh?” she rasps and laughs bitterly, dryly. “Were you going elsewhere? Did you just hate us and kill our tribe because we were on the way? Oh yes, you should have killed every last one of them! You think anyone of my people who hears the tale will remember that? So the bloodshed continues, eh? Leave me be…” Hal-Gur says.

Her sentiment is next met by Arman, who bears the totem staff of the tribe. Arman talks to her briefly before offering her the stave and she looks at the gesture with deep skepticism. Setting aside any hesitation, she reaches out for the stave and takes it firmly in her hands. Somehow, she stands straighter with it in hand and nods at Arman.

“An unexpected gesture” she says, looking it over and looking at Arman. “An elf or dwarf bearing such a powerful symbol of leadership, one of our three staves of rulership, amongst us would in the end enrage any of the tribes you came across. Now you pass it to me. Wise for your safety, for surely his brothers would track it, but foolish in the hands of grieving wife sent back amongst my people. Whatever shall I do?” she says and casts a hard look at the pyramid and strewn bodies.

She spits on the ground muttering the orcish word for “murderers” to all who can understand. Holding the staff respectively, she examines it though with a pensive look. What she was thinking about was anyone’s guess.

Many in the party wondered what Arman was thinking too.

“Stupid elf” Duervar snarls as he stomps off to recover his armor.

Buna has a more erudite response.

“Well ain’t you one surpris’n elf. Sometimes it ain’t wise to carry someone else’s standard around though. I don’t care right now, I just want to leave…” Buna mutters. The fatigue and thin area permeated by a growing stench is taking its toll on her..

Many others just stare at her, while Kerik guffaws.

Carmard just stares silently, his eyes working something out. It’s a hard and focused stare but he says nothing.

The trunk that once held the Stoneburner is now filled with treasure, baubles and smaller weapons. Larger ones are wrapped in a tarp and slung over Kerik’s battered back.

As Carmard carefully checks his equipment again before the group departs, Wyatt approaches him.

“"Hello? Hey, are you the man in charge? You guys must've done a bang-up job on these orcs because they're lookin' pretty, uh... dead. Thanks for bailing me out, but... I should probably get going, you think? Is it even still safe here?" He glances around quickly at all the characters around him. "I suppose maybe I could lend you guys a hand in... whatever you're trying to do. Hopefully kill the rest of the stupid bastards that put me here in the first place, yeah? It's the least I could do."

Rubbing the side of his face wearily, he listens to Wyatt’s erratic introduction with a look that conveys a sense that he has better things to do with his time. Nonetheless, he listens.

“Yes. We killed the orcs. No, it is not still safe here. Others could come back. This battle will have drawn a great deal of attention. The orc may have even called for it. ” Carmard says tonelessly.

“What to do with you, halfing? I cannot tell you to walk out alone or with the other halfing with the bear. You will no doubt run into the shaman’s wife. The one who beat you? Interrogate you so they can learn more about who we are? No… you’re coming with us I think.” Carmard exhales, not happy with the proposition.

“We are going to another Plane, than coming back here to kill a lot more of them. This was a skirmish. We head for a war. I hope your skills are as sharp as what passes for your wit. Now make ready. We are leaving right now. Unless you want to take your chances with her” Carmard says.

He gestures towards the departing Hal-Gur who is looking back across the cavern at the dwarf and the halfing. She has an ugly look on her face and glares at Wyatt.

Buna places a hand on Wyatt's shoulder.

"Welcome to the Forgemark Legion. You're now a Sammikon. Don't worry, we'll pay you." her voice is so cheerful, it seems absurd given the carnage and context.

"Our motto is 'The one hope of the damned is to have no hope of anything good anymore'" Carmard intones gravely. "Welcome aboard"

[Strangie]

Wyatt folds his arms, nodding at Carmard's words, smirking a bit at the "wit" part. "Why thank you," he replies. "Oh don't worry. You won't be... disappointed..." he says, sort of trailing off as he catches the female orc in the distance glaring at him hatefully. He sort of leans back a little, wincing. "Geez. Even after I'm not their prisoner they still give me a hard time."

He simply waves the orc off afterward with a "bah" and ignores her, looking up at Buna now. "Oh, hello. Forgemark Legion, huh..." he glances around at all the dwarves. "I figured as much. Okay, then. I can work with this. You'll even pay me, too? How could I refuse! Maybe this'll be worth it after all."

He turns back to Carmard, shrugging. "Okay. I'm ready when you are. I got all my gear back. I can fight, I can scout, I can sneak, and I can sure beat the crap out of just about any trap I can lay my hands on. Let's go."

He doesn't seem to mind Carmard's serious-business grim attitude about the whole thing. He looks ready and willing.

[mshady]

A half hour passes as the group makes final preparations to move out. Anything of interest is sacked and taken for further inspection whenever they might have the time.

The scene is chaotic; not organized chaos, just chaos as everyone scrambles around. From Duervar looking for loot and Arum for trophies to others making emergency repairs to their kit, grabbing a quick bite of food or even catching a bit of shut eye in Sable’s case.

How she did that is anyone’s guess.
With a blast from her whistle that startles everyone, Buna calls everyone together. The chaos becomes order as the group gathers near the stage. Even with a little time to clean up, the traces or real, remaining wounds and bloody equipment along with their obvious exhaustion.

Forgemark members or auxiliaries stand at attention towards the front. The rest stand beside or to their immediate sides in various attentive positions.

Carmard walks out in front of the group once again.
“We’ll be splitting into two groups” Carmard declares.

“The first group stays with me and Buna to hunt down the Stoneburner. And Raltise, of course. Thordek, Nalrak, Johanness, Magnum, Kelith, Sable, Arum, Wyatt and Arman Madero. Kerik, Gore and the hin with the bear will come along too…” he says.

“The second group is lead by Hjalmar to make contact with our allies, the Duergar that Tolrin been meet’n with. Bundok, Duervar and two Minotaurs will join them. Hjalmar already has his orders and a map. We’ll try to reach ye as we can, but unless the Stoneburner be recovered the attack be held, schedule be damned.” Carmard grinds out. He looks at the group for a reaction but then continues…

“We’re leaving now. Those with me, gather ‘round.”

The two groups bid hurried goodbyes, but everyone is too weary for much and dwarves especially are not prone to long goodbyes.

Buna does, however, pat Duervar on the back and speak to him quietly for a moment. It leaves the taciturn dwarf smiling slightly before he heads out.

With his group gathered around, he takes out a large rune made of a jade colored stone with deep blue engravings on it. Concentrating on the rune, it disintegrates in his hand as the power of the spell flows out of it and creates a revolving sphere of blue energy in front of him. The twirling energy cuts a hole between this Plane and another into what looks like yet another cavern. The room looks very elegantly cut; clearly the work of someone skilled.

One by one, the group rushes through the Gate spell to their new destination, leaving the cursed cavern behind.

[loopy]

Johannes
"Well thats all well and good for them, going on a nice little holiday like that. What is our next move, fearless leader?" Johannes says with a perfectly straight face.

[mshady]

OOC: The splitting of the group is to write off those PCs that no longer have players at this point. If any of them return I'll bring them back an similarily, those in the current group who are inactive will be assumed to be with that group. It's just too many NPCs to juggle...

Mike

[King Tius]

OOC: I'm still here! I've been reading along I just didn't want to clog things up with meaningless posts. I am still totally in on this clerical action.

[thorgrim29]

I am ready

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum went and said his goodbye to Duervar, while he was gruff and unfriendly, he was good in a fight and that held a lot of weight in the priests eyes. After his parting words and blessings for the departing group he made his way back to Carmand and stared in wonder and the swirling energies transporting them to another plane.

[ArmanMadero]

“An unexpected gesture” she says, looking it over and looking at Arman. “An elf or dwarf bearing such a powerful symbol of leadership, one of our three staves of rulership, amongst us would in the end enrage any of the tribes you came across. Now you pass it to me. Wise for your safety, for surely his brothers would track it, but foolish in the hands of grieving wife sent back amongst my people. Whatever shall I do?” she says and casts a hard look at the pyramid and strewn bodies.

Arman looked at her and stood silently. He wasn't sure himeslf what the orcess would do. More than likely, she would hand it back to another male, and they would go back to the way they were. After that, who knew? He did hope that she would remember his benevolence, should they meet again. He heard her mutter the word murderers, and again said nothing. She had her thoughts on what happened. He had his.

“Stupid elf” Duervar snarls as he stomps off to recover his armor. Arman could tell that Duervar wasn't happy with him, and shook his head a little. He hoped he would understand in time.

“Well ain’t you one surpris’n elf. Sometimes it ain’t wise to carry someone else’s standard around though. I don’t care right now, I just want to leave…” Buna mutters. The fatigue and thin area permeated by a growing stench is taking its toll on her, Arman could tell, and he wasn't sure if that was a compliment, or heading towards another unfriendly opinion

Arman listened to the words coming at him after Hal-Gur took the staff with indifference. He had his reasons for giving it up, and he certainly didn't want a hold over a tribe he would never see again. Much less want others coming after him to repossess it. Even with their group as powerful as it was, Mystra knew, they only had so much... Plus he didn't think that it would be looked on him with favor should he hold the tribe under him.

Arman gathered his things and stood near the group that was leaving to the other plane. He watched as Carmard activated the rune and held his breath for the plane shift. It wasn't something he had done before, but if it was like transporting, it would help him retain his balance a little when they arrived. He could kind of see the cavern to which they were travelling, and it looked clean cut. Not a natural cavern then...

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Hearing the quibble over the staff Kelith will interject, "If it's money you're after there shall be plenty to come; it's a part of adventuring afterall. But respect, nah, that's something seldom come by and there's nothing wrong from trying to get that from a fallen foe. The less enemies we have the better."

{{Still here, don't mind the NPCs being written off because it would have been terrible trying to control them all.}}

[mshady]

Carmard’s spell left a shimmering portal between the Planes, leaving a shimmering oval that allowed a watery view into the next Plane. At first glance, it appeared to be another cavern but as the portal stabilized it was very smoothly made, too unnatural. Looking at the structure of it, it was not stone at all but… shiny? This spell had none of the nauseating power of a true Gate spell at all but none the less the tingling feeling of active magic can be felt by all.

While Carmard concentrates on his dweomer, Buna urges everyone forward into the portal as the planar rift created by the Stoneburner flares with new life.

“Quick! Go!!” Buna urges. The group runs through the portal as quick as they can…

…and are thrown out of the other side roughly, tumbling to the ground as the spell pulses and twists from the interference. Everyone who comes through feels an intense heat and their hair stands on end from the energy. Neither are normal effects associated with planar travel. Indeed, they are very usual.

Looking back into the cavern they had just left, they can see it awash a red hue as Carmard struggles to hold the spell open as the minotaurs run through it with the Stoneburner’s trunk. The planar rift left by the Stoneburner is destabilizing…

Carmard turns his head as the presence of his own spell tears open the other rift. A torrent of fire explodes into the room followed by a spout of magma that shoots across the cavern and splashes against the opposite wall. The remains of the orcs becomes a conflagration as the room fills with Magma…
As the last of the rune Carmard holds disintegrates in his hand, he aims his pistol at the ceiling and fire’s a bulbous object upward and runs through the gate as the party watches in horror as the magma starts to engulf his position.

Carmard is physically blasted out of the portal and tumbles end over end across the smooth, crystalline surface before sliding to a stop. Buna and presumably others run over to him, but he lays still for moment. Grimacing, Buna shakes him vigorously to no effect at first. Finally, Carmard’s chest heaves and he takes in breath and Buna steps away from him. Rolling over on his back with a grunt, the dwarf’s beard is singed and crispy. Bits of flake off as he rolls and his skin is puffy and red from the intense heat.

Looking up at the ceiling that tower’s above them, Carmard does something perhaps no one had heard him do before.

He laughs. It is a quiet, rumbling laugh what could almost be a bit of joy at his survival.

Standing over him, Buna looks at him in shock.

“You knew that would happen, didn’t you?” Buna demands.
“Of course” Carmard smiles. Carmard smiles?
“Why did you do that!”
“T’was the only way to know where it went. Had to open the rift and see, but too risky to stay and find out.” Carmard says. He sits up and looks around with a half grin on his face.
“So… so you just tore open a rift in a Plane? Just to see what would happen? That wasn't risky?”
“Aye, I did. T'was less risky, actually...”
“That’s just… mad, Carmard. How can ye be so ruthless and reckless at the same time, ye mad beard?”

Carmard snorts in response to that and shakes his head.

“It ‘as the only way to tell for sure, Buna” he says.
“And ye just decided to shoot off yer pistol for laughs on the way out?” she says, shaking her head.
“No, I shot a spike with a ‘rystal sphere into the ceiling so I can scry.”“Oh” Buna says flatly. “Ye enjoyed that, didn’t ye?”
“I certainly did, lass. Besides, that blocked the best route to Hundlestone and denyed the camp to the enemy” he says and takes a mithril flask from his side and drinks heavily from it.
“Mad beard” she mutters…

Turning away from Carmard and shaking her head in exasperation, Buna turns to the rest of the group and watches their reactions for a moment.

“Aye, I know. He be a mad one…” Buna says by way of apology.

She gestures around the enormous cavern. It appears to be hewn from a kind of green crystal with jets of black in it. It has an almost nauseating feeling of the impossible. How could this have been made? The central cavern itself appears to be acres large. Finely carved doors lead off into a multitude of areas and there are several open areas filled with bunks.

Far more mundane tables dot the area over to the right and they are occupied. With almost a hundred dumbfounded dwarves in various states of dress standing and holding weapons, but unmoving.

The unmistakable sound of one person clapping, than several more can be heard as they cheer the arrival of the group.

With a broad smile on her face, Buna exclaims “I’d like to welcome ye to the Demiplane of Faitholme! They keystone o’our realm that unites us all our holdings together. It be reopened by the Will o’the Patriarch himself and beyond ancient. Here we’ll rest while we find where our bomb went” she says.

[thorgrim29]

Faithholme.... amazing

That is all Thordrek is able to say as his scholar's mind processes all this.

[King Tius]

Blessed Dumathoin, what a sight!

Nalrak stands in wide-eyed wonder at the demi-plane. He'll look around for a nice place to rest and take his armor off.

[Strangie]

"Ooh, fancy..." Wyatt manages to say as he spins his head around, glancing at his surroundings. He turns in place, taking it all in. Being one of the shorter people of the group, he has to maneuever to the outside of the throb of people to see everything for himself.

[Melody]

It's not madness when it works. Sable grins at Carmard and offers him a hand up. You have to admit, that was one HELL of an entrance.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman went through the rift into the large cavern and wondered why his hair was sticking up a little. That was something that didn't happen normally. He stood in the large cavern when he heard a loud noise and turned in time to see Carmard enter through the rift they had just come through. Although, his entrance was a little off. Carmard crashed into the ground with quite a bit of force, and lay still for a moment.

He soon sat up and it looked as though his body was shaking. He was laughing. Arman looked and wondered at the laughing dwarf.

He looked around the caverns and opened his eyes in wonder. Faithholme. He wasn't sure how it would have looked, but this was certainly different. He looked to Carmard and Buna, who were talking. Well, Carmard was still laughing and talking, Buna sounded more like she was cursing him.

Arman looked to them and then around, hearing all the clapping from those in the cavern. He looked to Carmard again and waited to see what else would happen.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum, always one for a good laugh, chimes in beside Carmand rumble and gives and "aye" of agreement about to Sables comment about the entrance.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith will heave a sigh of relief and smile as he looks around the "room".

For a while he stands there taking in the view; the beautiful craftsmanship and the lack of direction holding him in place.

[mshady]

The applause from the dwarves already in Faitholme takes a minute to die down.

For such a veteran group, this is perhaps the most shocking way to be greeted. Pleasant, but shocking. That and the sheer size of the place. Squinting was required to see either end of this chamber alone.

One of the dwarves advanced from the group with a fistful of beer steins followed two more dragging a keg, laughing all the way. The dwarf in front is a bare chested brute with thick slabs of muscle, the kind gained in part from age put primarily from a life of hard, repetitive manual labor. He sports a forked red beard and what one could only deem absurd yellow suspenders.

“Hail to ye!” he greets the group heartily with a broad smile that is missing a few teeth. The words whistle a bit as he speaks them. “Welcome to Faitholme! Ye must be Forgemark? Ah yes, Carmard! Buna! I still prefer Bunny for you! I be Rasster the Red, or Rooster ‘hind me back. Caretaker o’Faitholme! I bid ye welcome! Come, come! We have food, ale, mutton and wine. Ye look fresh from a battle, so yer growls must be at it after such bloody, bloody work” he finishes in his rumbling baritone.

Gesturing to the two dwarves behind him with the kegs, they both set kegs down they were dragging and squat on all fours. Rasster sets the pewter steins down roughly, laughs and grips the first sizable keg with both hands and snaps it off the ground and sets it lightly on the first dwarf’s back, than the other. They grunt, but show no real discomfort at the strain. That the kegs appear full and heavy testify to Rasster’s enormous strength. No belts or other magical accouterments appear to aide him.
One by one, he begins filling the mugs and passing them out to all who will take them.

For the Jilker’s in the group, this is a traditional if antiquated even for this Clan, greeting. To be offered a drink off another’s back was another’s honor and a sign of great esteem. So that those offering the drink were not overly burdened by the offering, it was customary to get astonishingly drunk so as to empty the kegs. That two were brought made this all the more daunting a task until the two Minotaurs showed up.

With five gallon buckets. Which were promptly filled. The second round that quickly followed emptied the rest. The two minotaurs downed the ale like pros to the cheers of the other caretakers. Many of the rest of the party take at least one drink, leaving them in various states of inebriation. The minotaurs themselves, fearsomely drunk, argued with some of the dwarven caretakers for awhile before settling into a dice game before passing out at the enormous oak table. The food on it is piled high and is delightful and filling, but has the sweet, sweet taste of food created by the priests. Considering the recent exertion and bland food, the racks of greasy mutton, fresh sweet breads and precious, precious fruit is delectable.

Carmard takes a drink and some food but stays clear of the revelry. Anyone within earshot of him and Rasster hear their conversation switch to the more serious.

“…and yes, I need to be gett’n to the Astral mirrors Rasster. We cannae be wast’n much more time” Carmard growls out, his mood switching to one of irritation that washes over the red bearded dwarf.
"Why the hurry, Arcanii Grindstaff? Look to your soldiers, lad! Wild group they be and you come in here on a hare like this, they need to rest! Eat!” the boisterous Rasster says. Carmard rocks back and forth, intense.
“Aye? Well ye seen to that. They’re bloody drunk now. Yer a plague on discipline, ye know?” Carmard growled. Rasster’s only response was laughter at first.
"Why so hasty, Carmard? No worries, I’ll open the Mirrors for ye"
Carmard shakes his head and stalks off in exasperation to the table before sitting with the rest of the party. He bangs the butt of his pistol on the table like a gavel and brings everyone to silence. Except the snoring Minotaurs. He raps one of them on the head, but seeing it as hopeless, begins as the caretakers clear out of ear shot.

“I be keep’n this short” Carmard says wearily. “I need to scry for Glory’s toy. You go take the chest, sort out the loot and Buna as senior helps with lots. Now…” Carmard looks around the group.

“I promised ye all a chance to say yer peace ‘bout what happened. I gambled yer lives ones, apologized, gambled’em again. I had my reasons. Not askin’ ye to agree, just to hear why. Ye all ‘re soldiers, or paid so while I owe ye explanation, ye still owe loyalty whether ye agree or not” he says, weary but stern before continuing.

“With the Ice Devil ‘n the field, and more com’n maybe, I judged we could nay beat it. Not bad enough that we nay lost too many for the rest o’the fight. We would’ve failed and in doing so, we either turned back and ruined Tolrin and Glorian’s plan or died in place. Either way, we would’ve ‘ad to unleash the Stoneburner to protect than or later when the Devil ‘nd the orcs came for us runn’n home. It still would’ve made a statement ‘o the orcs. Look ‘ore like a warning than a kill’n blow, but I assure ye Tolrin could play it either way.

So I moved the game ahead and lit off the Stoneburner ‘fore either possibility happened. It either saved lives by end’n the fight or killed us all. The devil was here, not just summoned, so ‘e was play’n with his own life so I made sure he stayed. It was too well bound to turn against the orc so I maneuvered it to force Aur-Krasu into the duel. No idea how strong the orc was, but either I risk two o’ye to win or accept los’n two of ye for safe passage back. Either are winning choices. Cold? Aye, hard choice. I prefer a stand up fight when I ‘an get one.”

Carmard sighs deeply before continuing.

“No one knew ‘hat Baurus would do when he was so unchained. He ‘as a binding upon him I cannae break to destroy himself to prevent capture. I nay knew the extent nor his… instability. We ‘ll have Raltise to thank for ‘ur lives” he says solemnly. “Raltise is almost certainly dead and Baurus is runn’n. Outside o’box now laden ‘ith our spoils, he is a bright shining flame for us to track ‘nd we’ve been given items with an affinity to his spirit in such o’an event. “ Carmard says and rummages around in his satchel and sets something on the table.

A dwarven skull covered in deeply carved red and green runes.

“Meet what’s left o’Baurus” he said flatly. “Ye have eight to twelve hours to rest. Time moves more slowly here on this plane, at the Patriarch’s will. Say your peace quickly now, for I ‘ave work to do and recovery myself.”

[Melody]

((I prefer to do things in a narrative format but that would be difficult, so I'm just gonna state what Sable would do. She will attempt to replace the water proof cloak she cut to pieces to get through the water tunnel, the arrows she used, and see if the dwarves have any very spicy pepper powder. I'm doubtful that any of those can be replaced at this point though. I figure.. 1. dwarves are short so why would they have a cloak that long. 2. Dwarves don't use bows and 3. Since they are using mostly summoned food they don't likely have to spice anything. So barring replacing lost gear Sable will just go take a nice long nap. Anything that Buna decides should be given to her she'll accept with thanks. ))

[Strangie]

Wyatt will likely try and find a place to rest for the first time while not being horribly contorted by chains bound to every limb on his body. Ah, to be able to move freely again without worrying about having your face mashed in by crazy half breed orc things...

He keeps his mace close, though, still paranoid of his environment after what he's had to sit through...

[ArmanMadero]

Arman took one of the offered mugs and took a drink from the beverage. It was strong. A cough betrayed how strong it was, but he drank it down anyways. He refused a second fill however, knowing that the one drink itself was enough, and he had some spells to study.

He did however, manage to find some time to help out Thordrek with his "battle". After quite a few "shamans" got hit with the axe, Thordrek seemed to realize something, just before he passed out. Arman shook his head in wonderment, not understanding what the dwarf had found out.

The translocation of the dummy was something new however. And Arman wondered how Thordrek did it. He decided that he would ask the dwarf when he awoke from Reverie.

He went to a more secluded corner, and took some time to write in his journal that he was keeping, and then studied his spells he thought he would need for the next day or so. He hoped that they would be able to rest after that again, so he could make sure he was more prepared.

After memorizing all his spells, Arman sat against a flatter part of the wall, and slipped into the trance like state elves took as sleep. His eyes stayed open, but didn't blink. He wondered if the dwarves thought that strange at all.

Sorry this took so long. Health issue.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum began the evening with reverence and awe at being in Faitholme and had grand intentions of spending several hours before sleeping in reflection and prayer, but as the drinks kept coming, his grand plans slowly faded to revelry, singing, and stories. Sufficed to say he spent the night in heavy slumber and woke for his prayers a little later than usual.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek gathered a group of his Levtokuld colleagues and friends, and proceeded to reenact the duel with Aur-Krasu with the help of many practice dummies and the bemused assistance of Arman. ( he was too drunk to consider taking a less sharp axe then the adamentine magical one).

Finally, he prepared to administer the "final blow" to the 20th dummie. By that time he was in his breeches and his thick body hair was matted with sauce and beer. He seemed to have an inspiration and mumbled something before striking, and the cleaved figure warped and reappeared 10 feet to the left.

Will you look at that, I finally figured it out.... hope I remember tomorrow....

He passed out.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith downed a couple of the first mugs given too him, in respect of their traditions, before he found his way to his room for the night. The next morning he awakes at his usual early morning time and once done with his prayers heads to find some breakfast before getting ready to leave.

[Katasi]

Arum goes off to rest for 8 hours before preparing new spells.

[mshady]

Working away on the loot. Please bear with me, trying to be creative, yet appropriate.

[mshady]

As Carmard excuses himself, Buna raises her eye brows and grimaces before taking a deep breath.

“Let’s all wish him good luck…” she says. Carmard, with the blackened skull of Barauk in hand, trundles off. His unsteady gait reflects both some of the ale and his own fatigue…

“So… on to the fun part o’all this…” Buna says. She waves the care takers over with the laden chest of spoils that were claimed from the piles of loot that were captured. The chest is unceremoniously dumped in front of her in a clatter.

After the better part of an hour of sorting through much of it, the equipment has been sorted into two piles.

“Well… the stuff to me left are all things either too foul for our use or I claim in the name o’the Patriarchate. The rest…” she gestures to her right, “…are for division amongst ourselves… To move things along, I’ve some ideas. Ye can trade amongst yerselves if ye wish it after. Much o’this likely belonged to the mercenary party the orcs captured. There be weapons a’plenty too. If ye want a weapon up to dwarf standards, feel free to grab it….” Buna gestures towards another piles of weapons. Some of them are still wet with blood that belonged to the party…

“Ah yes, as fer the treasure itself, the gems and coins I’ve roughly sorted into piles ‘bout 5000 gold apiece. Take it. Also, there are three moderate and one serious healing potion for each of ye...”

Buna reads off her list to the party…

Thordek Torrun - +2 Ring of Protection, Sacred Scabbard, Amulet of Team Work, Ring of Piercing Spells

Arman Madero – Elf Mage Hand MoF, Wand of Ice Storm (3 charges), Ring of Spell Penetration.

Nalrak Ironfist – Ironfist Gauntlet – Magic of Faerun. (+2 spiked gauntlet, protected from chill and heat metal, 1/day pile driver, +2d6 damage. DC22 fort save for 1d4 rounds stunned, DC22 reflex save for knock down).

Kelith – Living Chain – Living Chain gives a +2 to disarm and trip, Gauntlet of the Blazing Arc, Cloak of the Salamander, +1 amulet of natural armor.

Sable – 20 fountainhead arrows, Efficient quiver, Necklace of Adaption.

Arum Faer Wed – Bracers of Arcane Freedom, Enemy Spirit Pouch, Tunic of Steady Casting, Blast Globe

Johanssen – Barricade Buckler, Cloak of Stone, Shirt of Chains

Magnum Rurik - Dlarun (Ice Steel) Frostbrand Dwarven Waraxe. Amulet of Natural Armor +1

Note: I will PM each of you with details of your new equipment tomorrow (or as soon as I can) and try to update your sheets. Much of the collected loot is rather profane in origin and the Patriarchate will likely destroy it.

[Strangie]

Disappointed that he wasn't part of this excursion, but curious, Wyatt stands up on his toes a little, shifting his head to get a better look at the goods from a safe distance. He widens his eyes at Buna's words.

".... 5000 gold apiece."

"Awhaaaaa?" He jumps a little on his feet, peering at the additional treasure...

He plants his feet on the ground for a moment, folds his arms, then tapping a foot for a moment. He turns around from the group and their loot, putting his back to them as he shifts his arms, placing one hand under his chin and his elbow in the other hand, tapping his chin in thought as he looks down a little and considers his situation, talking to nobody in particular.

"These guys are decked out with all kinds of... stuff..." he says. "They must already be powerful and then this... I better step up my game if I'm gonna impress anybody around here..."

[Katasi]

Arum takes his gold and pulls out 800 gold. He hands it to Wyatt. "Here," he says. "It's not much but maybe it'll help you out. I doubt you can use any of what I got, but maybe you can get some of the others to part with some of their stuff for that gold."

[mshady]

Added Magnum's loot... Sorry about that!

[Katasi]

Arum looks at Buna and says "I don't suppose the Patriarchate has some things they could spare to let me buy off them. I could use something to make me stronger if you've got it. And I'd happily trade my crossbow here and some gold for a nice rapier that I could use made out of that nice mithral to dwarven standards. And I'd gladly part with these bracers if you could find one that was enchanted a bit. If it where possible, would you please check?" He asks.

[roll0]

He then looks at Thordek. Thordek, my friend he begins "Would you take this globe in exchange for your ne protective ring?"

[bchilders]

Magnum

Finally coming down from the grogginess following a night of heavy drinking, Magnum makes his way over to Buna as she hands out all of their hard earned prizes. He eyes light up at the craftsmanship of the axe that is presented to him and all though a slight chill creeps up his arm as he practices a few swings it is clear that the axe was made for battle. "A dwarf can never have too many axes, I always say."

[Strangie]

Wyatt muses to himself for a moment, before he hears Arum approaching, turning his head to look at him, then down at the gold.

"... oh, I..." he stutters out, not expecting this. "Heh... you don't have to do that." He nods a little anyways, taking the gold. "I'll be sure to put it to good use... thanks, uh... I'm not sure if I heard your name - Arum, was it, yeah? Heh... thanks, Arum. Every bit helps, y'know?"

Wyatt nods once more, pondering to himself. He thinks, in his head, "... wait... wasn't this the guy who tried to jack my stuff earlier?..." He raises an eyebrow at the thought, but shrugs it off, considering the guy just gave him a handful of gold - maybe he had a change of heart since he downed some of that funky dwarven ale - and lets the thought pass away. For the moment. However, not being a beggar, he turns back to watch the others muddle about with their new toys, simply taking a point by the sidelines to observe for the time being until new orders are given or until someone approaches him. He eyes down at the slightly green tinted, small, mace-like weapon in his weapon holster - good quality, but otherwise unremarkable - muttering to himself quietly how in the past dwarves wouldn't take him seriously because his weapon isn't a huge waraxe or otherwise clunky weapon that are bigger than he is.

[Katasi]

Arum shrugs. "No problem. Consider it an apology for trying to take your stuff."

[bchilders]

Magnum

After spending some time testing out the new weapon a thought occurs to Magnum and he hurries over to Buna to pose a question. "Scuse me ma'am, but I was wonderin' if there was a way to move that rune you gave me to this new weapon. Figure it would save me the trouble of switchin blades in battle if the need arose," Magnum asks slightly sheepishly not wanting to seem ungrateful for either the old axe or the new one.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith turns to Buna as he starts to equip his new gear, "My thanks for the supplies, these should be put to good use."

After donning his cloak, amulet, and gauntlets he will swing around his chain getting a feel for it's new "behavior" before searching through the available weapons for a couple of daggers to replace the ones he used in the fight. If none can be found he'll simply buy new ones.

{{*cries for the message boards* Just when I thought they were getting better they go back to the dark ages. *sniff*

BTW, I don't know if you ever posted specifics, but what's the rules for us leveling up (like HP gain)}}

[mshady]

Buna nods and listens to Magnum's request. She extends her hand and motions for the axe, taking the heavy weapon in one hand. She hefts it to judge its characteristics for a moment and sets it down on the enormous stone table.

"Well, this be a fancy axe, aye?" she smiles and takes an amulet out of her satchel. She holds it over the axe and it flickers to life as she closes her eyes and uses it to extend her senses.

"Powerful, too..." she says. "Gave it to ya, not sure what it does quite yet. Didn't seem tainted though. Gots to see something..."

Buna looks hard at the axe and follows the silver inlaid runes that cover the watery blue steel of the weapon. They have an almost elegant script and wrap the weapon like a spider web of veins. She spends the better part of half an hour looking at it wordlessly while nursing a mug of mead as well.

"Aye, that a confounding axe ye have their, lad" she smiles. "Good news is it be a frostbrand weapon, but it does a little extra too. It's a bane against fire too. Not only will it snuff out fire magic, like if Kelith's chain hit ya, for a moment but its also a bane against fire elementals. Consider'n my reputation for fire magic, not sure I like that axe." Buna says, than turns it over. She wrings her hand from the latent cold and frowns now.

"It's a new weapon, barely used too. Little worrisome they're capable of making such. If I had to guess, I'd say it was smithed by a duergar. It's rugged and overly weighted, has a bit o'a cruel look to it especially with the long beard on it. Practical too with the hammer head on the back. Rare anyone BUT dwarves use waraxes like this too. Why make it and who had it before ye? Might merit some divinations sometime if yer curious..."

Buna laughs suddenly and loudly.

"Aye, I forgot why ye brought me the axe. No, I can't move the rune from your one axe to this one lad. Ye can't have two banes like this on one weapon, at least I cannae do it. They tend to hate each other and it'll either curse or slag your weapon.

Oh also lad? The command word for yon axe is 'Arctis'" Buna says and the axe leaps to life. An aura of shimmering blue energy flows over the weapon and the moisture in the air crystallizes around it, falling like snow. She snatches it off the table before it damages the fine stone and says the Command word again before handing it back to Magnum.

"That axe be a good way to make friends. You'll always 'ave cold ale" she says and winks.

[mshady]

[QUOTE=Katasi;5706310]Arum looks at Buna and says "I don't suppose the Patriarchate has some things they could spare to let me buy off them. I could use something to make me stronger if you've got it. And I'd happily trade my crossbow here and some gold for a nice rapier that I could use made out of that nice mithral to dwarven standards. And I'd gladly part with these bracers if you could find one that was enchanted a bit. If it where possible, would you please check?" He asks.

Finishing up with Magnum, Buna addresses Arum finally as she finishes the study of Magnum's new axe. She sighs and shakes her head before addressing him.

"Stronger eh? Ye don't look scrawny. Well, pudgy. Heh. Go see the Caretaker, he might have somethin' for ya. This place be a bit like the Patriarchate's travel trunk, so might be somethin' laying around" she says.

Arum seeks out the now intoxicated Raaster the Red and explain his request. The dwarf guffaws and pinches Arum's arms.

"Oi, too weak to carry yer load eh? Well, 'm sure I've got something for ye.. The pig sticker's for free just to get it outta me vaults. I've some gauntlets for ye though. Why dont ye give yours to someone else in yer group and I'll take oh... 2500 gold from ye and get ye somethin' that can help ye?" Raaster says merrily.

Presumably, Arum agrees to this and Raaster returns with a set of gauntlets. They are a fairly common sight and he immediately recognizes the tan bracers with the bronze bands as gauntlets of ogre strength. Gold is exchanged and Arum puts them on, feeling far stronger.

Arum is now in possession of gauntlets of ogre strength +2

[mshady]

DM Note: Sorry for the delay here, it took me a little extra time to calculate out the loot. Actually, trying to calculate the ECR for all that was my first mistake so I winged it on the loot. I tried to keep it interesting, but not overpowering.

Lets all work on getting the posting rate up a bit. I know the issues with the boards right now are a real pain though! Even if you don't have something to say or add really, please post anyways just so we know you're here. It gives me a change to RP back with the NPCs and your friends to interact as well. "Me too" posts are fine.

We have 8-12 hours in Faitholme btw. You can do what you want during that time. If anyone wants to explore the area, I could do that in side RP or whatever as well. Let me know.

We won't be here that long. I expect to move on to the Hunt for Barauk in a week's time.

Mike

[thorgrim29]

Tordrek drinks moderately (thought we had more like a day then 12 hours when I wrote the post), and to the quartermaster to buy and trade a couple of things, and he is up after a good sleep.

[mshady]

If anyone else wants to buy something from the inventory, let me know. If its an ability or item in the DMG at least, it may be here. No guarantees on the odd ball stuff.

Wont be alot of oppurtunities to just buy items, so act fast!

[ArmanMadero]

Arman took the items given to him with a strange look on his face. The wand he glanced over, and found the command within the runes written upon it, along with what it was. He nodded in satisfaction, and placed that next to the others in his belt.

The hand confused him at first, and angered him a little. He wasn't sure why Buna had given him the mummified hand of an elf, but he didn't know if he wanted it. But as he held it, he felt a subtle power within it and the chain that it was on. He looked and noticed that there was a ring upon one of the fingers.

Thinking that the power was coming from the ring, he removed the ring to look at it closer, but still felt it within the hand as well. It took a moment more to figure it out, but he returned the ring to the hand and placed the cahin around his neck, hiding the hand beneath his outer shirt. He didn't feel too comfortale wearing the hand of an elf, but then again, wearing the mummified remains of anything didn't sit well with him.

He nodded to Buna, thanking her for the gifts. Although he wasn't sure if the elf hand was intentional or not. He went to the other pile and took his share of the gold. He then noticed the newer member kind of looking lost amongst everyone. He was also looking at all the gold and gifts that everyone was getting. Arman smiled at the halfling and walked up to him.

"Quite a haul huh? My name is Arman Madero. I'm one of the mages with this group. You were one of the ones captured by Hal-Gur and her shaman mate? How did you come to be there? What city do you hail from? I myself don't have much that you can have right now, other than my company and some trail rations. Although, it looks like you may be able to buy yourself some things while here."

Arman counted some gold out in his hand, and gave it to the halfling, who had introduced himself as Wyatt. Arman was waiting for the rest of his questions to be answered, but wasn't sure if Wyatt was feeling up to it. He seemed to be in shock. "If anything, you should at least see about getting a dagger or shortsword. And a shield. Anything else you would need, I'm sure you would know." He smiled again, placing everything else in his pack.

"I hope that you continue to travel with us. However, the trip is bound to be full of dangers, and even I am a bit wondering what is ahead for us."

With that, Arman left Wyatt alone, finding his previous spot to rest, going into a medatative pose and slipped into Reverie.

The spells he looked over earlier stuck in his mind as he awoke, and he realized he had some time to buy a few things. He went over to where it looked like a wizard was selling some magical scrolls. He needed some spells.

[Strangie]

(OOC: It might be helpful to know how much gold you gave him, Arman, haha. Just as a side note.)

Wyatt spots Arman almost the instant he starts approaching him - an alert little bugger - and watches him, silently.

"Ah, hey... I come from some little nameless halfling tribe faaaaar, far away from here," he replies, waving his hand off behind him. "I don't really have a home. I happened to be in the area, travellin' through because that's what I do! Then all of a sudden, these buncha orcs are all, GRRRR, and they beat the crap outta me and drag me off to some dank cave in godsknowwhere. Pah!" He folds his arms for a moment, then looks up at Arman again. "But enough about that."

"Well, my elven friend. Arman, eh? M'name's Wyatt Akturus. Oh..." He looks at the gold, scratching his head. "Boy, you people are a lot more generous than most - now I REALLY gotta make sure I get it put to good use! Ah, don't worry about me though, I know I can hold my own, even if I don't look like it..." He takes out the mace-like bat weapon he cares, followed by a darkwood buckler in the other. If Arman is keen to such things, being a mage, he can see the armor under Wyatt's clothing is a mithral chain shirt, the buckler and the chain shirt of excellent quality and likely magical in nature. "But I ain't got stuff that I'd say are, uh... 'dwarven standard'. Y'know, big huge thick metal plating and shields as tall as me and all that stuff." He holds one hand up high and the other down low, to emphasize his point. Then shrugs. "It just ain't my thing! You'll see why once you see me in action, heh. Oooh, you'll see soon enough."

Rubbing his chin as he counts at the gold, he looks over at his weapon of choice, the light mace. "Maybe I got enough to... Ah, hell... I feel kinda guilty now, takin' everybody's money like this, but I can't argue generosity. I'll find a way to repay the favor to ya, Mister Madero."

He nods with a grin, pocketing the gold away. He certainly seems grateful of the gold-giving, and is certainly looking to put it to good use, just like he's said - he tries to find his way to the weapons rack once Arman takes his leave, looking for where they might have items sized for him that he can purchase. "That elf fellow is right. I better get SOMETHIN' at least with all of this. Even if fighting ain't my main expertise. Nothin' beats a good bonkin' weapon, though..." Indeed, he seems particularly interested in light maces if there are any, musing to himself as he scurries about the place. For a halfling, he IS pretty quick on his feet, too.

[Melody]

In a corner Sable removes the arrows from her old quiver and places them in the new one saving the fountainhead arrows for last. Slowly she turns one over in her hands as she chews her lip. Her eyes look from the floor to the walls and finally at the ceiling. She smiles and slips the new arrows into the quiver and stands with a stretch. Digging through her pack she comes up with a bar of soap.

Walking over to one of the natives of Faitholme she pauses and smiles. Where can I get a bath?

[ArmanMadero]

(lol... sorry about that.... 1000GP)

[mshady]

Sable catches Raaster as he walks by her resting spot. He listens to her question and feigns sniffing the air with a crunched nose, but ends up laughing.

"Oi lass! Go about half a mile down on yer left and there be barracks. There be a place to bathe and a few steam bathes too. The place be almost unoccupied, 'cept for Tasster the Fiendslayer await'n an audience with the Patriarch. He's from the Tethyamar and down that way. He's a rascal... Been wait'n here for three weeks now. The Ole Patty's up to somethin' or 'nother I'm told. Maybe he be back on his throne now with the trouble in the Spine though" Raaster shrugs, seemingly without a care in the world.

For Sable

"Carmard's off to the Hall o' Mirrors to look for what's been lost and... oh!" he says, suddenly remembering something important. He fumbles through his overalls and pulls out a velium letter sealed in fresh wax.

It has a familar sigil on it. The now familar anvil with the crossed mace and hammer ringed with stars is ever present. This anvil, however, features a stylized eye in its center as well.

Buelyir Granvil

"Arrived 'bout an hour ago for ye"

"Ye might want to see 'bout it elsewhere" he says with a wink. "Real cots down there too, ye know!"

With that, the merry dwarf stumbles off. The minotaurs are finally stirring.

[mshady]

Buna approaches Wyatt and Arman as they talk. It is a rather weaving approach, as she clasps a stein in one hand that sloshes ale at a couple of points on her approach.

Unbalanced yet coherent, she speaks to them both. Her speech is a bit thicker than normal, but her quick, inquisitive blue eyes appear undiluted.

"So, halfling... Wyatt was it? Do ye have any questions? Anything you'd like to know about us? I overheard what ye said to Arman about nay being equipped to dwarven standards as ye aren't bedecked in steel and such?" she laughs at that, before becoming a bit more serious.

"The Patriarchate of Moradin, the soul forger of all the dwarves, may be quite the traditionalists in matters of faith. Fervent even. When it comes to matters of war, are far more progressive militarily. Serving our Gods be our imperitive, aye. How we do it is a matter of dwarven practicality. We do whatever it takes and accept any good idea on how to do it. In your case, as a scout? Halfing scouts are particularly prized due to your small size."

She smiles. It's a neutral expression however.

"We realize our limitations. It always pays to know where you are going. Marthamor willing and if you prove yourself able... oh, and live? Well, ye can expect we'd like to keep ye on for some time. There is a matter of you being in the middle of some lofty dwarf business now, halfling. Business we cannae afford to be spread. We can, however, afford to pay generously for a closed mouth and hard work. So... any questions, laddie?"

[Strangie]

Wyatt turns his head over his shoulder right when Buna starts talking, then turns to face her fully, listening to her words intently.

"Hmm... well, perhaps I should get to know the rest of who I'm working with - knowing your team and what they're capable of is an important part of being a group. But I'm sure you knew that already, yeah?" He nods quickly, drumming his fingers on his chin for a moment. "... well... I suppose you could explain to me a little bit more about what a 'Stoneburner' is. And maybe who this Baurus fellow is. I hate to bother ya havin' to fill me in on everything but if you'd spare a moment to walk me through this it'd be great, yeah. Gotta get up to speed n' all."

He glances around a little, mentally counting in his head the gold he's accumulated, looking up at the ceiling for a brief moment. Then turns back to Buna. "... perhaps you can help me find a new bonkin' weapon? Surely there's somethin' I can get for a couple of grand in gold - some of my new allies have been so generous I dunno what to do with myself. Except put it to good use in a new bonkin' stick. Eh?"

[Melody]

Sable seems to go a little pale as she recognizes the seal on the letter. How could he have possibly known where to find her? Was he scrying on her even now? She turns and looks around almost expecting to see someone watching her from the corner of the room. With a deep breath Sable walks off towards the baths looking for a quiet spot to get a bath and read the letter.

[thorgrim29]

-Tasster's here? I've got to go say hello

Thordrek followed Sable until he found the Fiendslayer

Hello Tasster, what have you been up to lately?

He grins as he extends his hand in greeting.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum heads over to Raaster and says, "You got any scrolls for a devoted follower of Clangeddon. Or maybe a wand that could come in handy. Anything that will help deliver divine justice...if you catch my meaning" Magnum was thinking back to their run in with the devil and hoping to be better prepared for a confrontation with such a powerful adversary.

Hard to remember what all kinds of characters we still have with all the turn around. Who's going to be our primary fighter? Magnum always wants to be up on the front line but he also has a lot of buffs and I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to be directing them

[mshady]

Raaster laughs and nods at Thordek’s question.

“Aye, Taaster’s around. Sober? Awake? I’ve no idea. He’s on the far wall, about oh… a mile down?” Raaster says and squints, gesturing to the left of the enormous cavern.

“You’ll see his banner, a broken mountain, down there. He’s taken over one o’the barracks there with a couple o’his Mithril Legion guards. Such as they are.” Raaster sniffs at that, a little indignant.

“He’s been wait’n here about three weeks now? After he went off with ye into the Underdark, he came back and ‘as been stewing ever since about seein’ the Patriarch. The bugger won’t leave, either and ‘as been drink’n more than a small clan o’dwarves. I just send’em food and drink ‘rom time to time and hope he nay punches a caretaker ‘gain.” Raaster snorts. He looks none too pleased, but continues…

“Magus Arcanii Glorian was here to see ‘im about two weeks ago. Ended in some sort of screaming match too… Brave lad, screaming at Glorian! He has bigger stones ‘han I do. Since then, he’s kept to himself. She told’em the Patriarch was busy and he was goin’ on about us help’n him liberate the Tethyamar Mines. Ye might be want’n to ask him ‘bout all that. I’m SURE he’ll tell ye.”

Raaster laughs and points Thordek towards the Fiendslayer’s quarters and ambles off.

[mshady]

Sable walks off to another part of Faitholme with a scroll in hand from Raaster.

[mshady]

Thordek presumably heads straight for the Fiendslayer’s quarters. They are as far removed from the actual residents there as seems possible. Outside the quarters is the banner of the broken mountain, the Fiendslayer’s personal standard that he wears on a backpack brace. On the other side of the door way is the severed head of a barbed devil, a hamatula.

It’s very familiar to Thordek and the others that came with him from Barakbar, as they watched the already wounded Fiendslayer duel the devil in a brutal single combat that concluded with his near death. But not before he nicked off it’s head with his axe. With the devil dead, the remaining duergar had fallen back and died.

Thordek knocks on the frame of the doorless room and sees a large barracks room. Most of the bunks have been removed. A couple have been hacked to pieces. Tasster and his two armsmen sit in fine earth silks on pillows. Tasster is regaling them with some kind of story, one it looks like his retainers have heard before. The Fiendslayer is running a whetstone over one of his axes and his bare arms ripple from the pressure he puts on the stone.

When Thordek walks in, the storytelling abruptly stops and there is an awkward silence as the group and Thordek look at each other. Without a word, the dwarf stands up and walks over to the door with his great axe held in one hand. His red mohawk and forked red beard on a head covered in scars is a fearsome sight. That he was a head taller than any dwarf that Thordek knew of even without the mohawk made him all the more intimidating. Squinting at Thordek, his eyes go wide in recognition; the drinks and the shared hookah in the room no doubt contributing.

“Thordek! The only one here who ever listened to me! Have ye come back with word your Patriarch will see me? Remember yer promise to help me storm the Tethyamar Mines side by side with me, lad! Clangeddin be praised if ye bring me news! Ye look fresh from a battle too! Surely a good omen! Come! Tell me the tale!”

With that, he drops his axe with a thump and wraps Thordek in a crushing embrace that makes the remains of his own wounds scream in pain.

"Hello Tasster, what have you been up to lately?" Thordek says.

[King Tius]

Nalrak Ironfist

The burly priest's eyes sparkle with wonder as he picks up the gauntlets. "Well I be a bearded gnome, look at these! My clan's very own gauntlets!" He quickly dons them and flexes his hands, marvelling at the craftmanship of his bretheren. Before restocking on food supplies and praying for his spells (updated on his character sheet!), Nalrak looks into purchasing a Ring of Feather Fall. When he goes to pray, he asks around to find an altar to Dumathoin, or at the very least a neutral altar.

When he is well rested and preped for departure, he approaches Carmand and salutes. "Ready to depart when you are, sir. what be yer orders?"

[mshady]

Raaster grunts in response to Magnum's request.

"Unh. I be the bloody quartermaster today..." he says. While he frowns at the request, his eyes twinkle.

"Not so much lay'n around that's real shiney like. We be more an armor and axe kind" he says with a wink. "I 'o have a special ring for ye. Its a Moradinite ring, but helps ye heal in battle a little better. Gives ya a big boost once or twice. We do 'ave a sacred scabbard too that'll bless yer weapon. Bracers o'giantfelling too. Good for 'nything bigger than ye. Now what kind o'scrolls did ye want, lad?"

[mshady]

Raaster looks at Nalrak skeptically.


"What's a big boy like ye want with a feather fall ring?" he says and chuckles. "Anything else ye need? Love to turn some o'the stuff lay'n 'round here into gold. While I may be in Moradin's service, we all 'ave to earn a living" he says and winks.

[bchilders]

Magnum

"Now you peaked me intrest, with talk of that ring and those bracers. Tell me a little bit about them," Magnum listens intently always eager to find things to make himself more useful in a scrape.

After listening about the items Magnum leans in and says, "I've seen or heard of a couple spells I can't quite grasp yet. One increases your size and fills you with Clangeddon's power making you a righteous force to be reckoned with. And the others hardens your skin to stone absorbing the blows of your enemies. Also I have this mace that has some magic in it but with the new weapons I've found I can't see continuing to drag it along. You think you can find it a good home" Magnum finishes with a wink of his own, always enjoying the dialogue of a dwarf you knows his weaponry.

Looking for a scroll of righteous might or a stoneskin scroll

And a +1 mace to sell

[King Tius]

"What'll that Moradinite ring cost me? I'm not the biggest fan o' heights, so I was curious if you had the Feather Fall ring. I'd be interested in this Moradinite though, assuming I can afford it."

OOG: Can I get the stats on that ring?

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek was a bit stunned at the slayer's exuberance, and he suffered his bear-hug with a wince. When the big dwarf puts him down, he stands back a bit and starts explaining, a bit apprehensive about the maniac's reaction.

Sorry to say my friend, I bring no word from the Patriarch... I just ported here a few hours ago from a pretty decent brawl against orcs with more then a bit of the devil in their veins, if you catch my drift... I guess I'd better start from the start, and forgive me if I'm not thorough, I have no idea how much I can tell you.

So, when we got back to Barakbar from our mission with you, and after I recovered from my hangover, last time I ever try to outdrink you, Glorian herself sends for me and some of the others and orders us to follow her to the surface, where a fairly large army was gathering to fight the aurilites in the North. So we follow her, along with a few minotaurs, sparring parters of yours maybe. We eventually regroup with another band of patriarchate troops led by Arcaniis Tolrin and Carmard. They tell us about a dozen of us are to go with Carmard and the minotaurs, who were carrying something.

We travel along tunnels in the upper Underdark for a while, have a few uneventful fights with beholderkin, during which I got promoted to group leader. Then we come upon a tribe of half-fiend orcs sacrificing prisoners to devils. Boy that was a fight and a half... I reckon I took half a dozen out while some of my squad supported me and a few others hunted the orc's shaman, then I was knocked out, and when I came to the shaman was summoning a very big and very pissed off Ice Devil.

Carmard did.... something, not sure what, to the devil and it agreed to have two of us duel the shaman. If we won, he'd go, if not, he'd still go but take Carmard with him. I was feeling reasonably fit by then, so I volunteered, and me and one of our mages, and elf named Arman, ended up fighting the shaman.

Ugly bugger was at least half devil, and even though he'd spent most of his magic escaping our rogue, human lass named Sable, he was still more then a handful to fight. Arman was out of magic after not long, but I still had enough juice to kill the shaman. Then we raided his treasures and came here.

[Melody]

Absently Sable takes a piece of quartz crystal on a leather cord from the letter and begins to read. As her eyes fall on the second word her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide, the perfect image of shock. She rereads the greeting a second time as if disbelieving. Sable closes her mouth with an audible snap as her eyes narrow. Eventually her eyes begin to move across the page and though she grows paler she almost looks amused until the very end of the letter.

Profanity bursts from her lips in a torrent like stream. Normally a very light footed person her footsteps thunder across the stone floor as she accosts the nearest dwarf with a terse.

Hall of Mirrors. It obviously isn't a request, nor is it particularly friendly sounding. Recieving an answer or perhaps a pointed finger she goes in search of Carmard.

[mshady]

Raaster does his best to describe the valkyrie ring and explains that he, indeed, has two of the rings.

This steel ring glimmers with a faint golden light

A Valkyrie Ring provides a boost to your healing spells. When casting cure spells, you gain a +1 competence bonus to your caster level. This is continuous effect and requires no activation.

In addition, this ring has 3 charges, which are renewed at dawn each day. Spending 1 or more charges grants a bonus to the damage healed by the next cure spell you cast before the end of your turn.

1 charge: +2d6 healing
2 charges: +3d6 healing
3 charges: +4d6 healing

Price: 4000 gp

[mshady]

In response to Nalrak's question about a place of prayer, Raaster beams with pride.

"Oi, a good question! They're a faith chamber to all of our Gods here. We've no permanent priests in attendance and while they're ancient, they be a bit sparse. Head a mile and a half to the far wall. Ye see all the doors? Each leads to a chamber. They be a good place to pray and a good place for ceremonies too. If ye know your rituals and theology, o'course. A blessing there could aid ye for awhile at least. Your friends there, too."

Again, Raaster points towards the far wall with a beatific smile.

[mshady]

One of the other caretaker dwarves are the first to encounter Sable. He hears the human woman stomping towards him. Her pace is deliberate and she leans forward as she stalks ahead. Sable's face is as rigid as the crystal palace around her.

"Hall of Mirrors" she says tersely, standing close to the dwarf and towering over him.

"Uh-um" the dwarf stammers. He takes a step back and composes himself. "Tis on the far wall... central stair case 'tween the chapels o'Moradin and Berronar. But uh... you're not allowed up there. Only Arcanii Carmard is right now. Ye uh... have to wait for him" he manages, as firmly as he can.

[mshady]

Kelith

Kelith turns to Buna as he starts to equip his new gear, "My thanks for the supplies, these should be put to good use."

After donning his cloak, amulet, and gauntlets he will swing around his chain getting a feel for it's new "behavior" before searching through the available weapons for a couple of daggers to replace the ones he used in the fight. If none can be found he'll simply buy new ones.

{{*cries for the message boards* Just when I thought they were getting better they go back to the dark ages. *sniff*

BTW, I don't know if you ever posted specifics, but what's the rules for us leveling up (like HP gain)}}

OOG: HP gain is whatever you roll. Just add it to your sheet.

Kelith is able to find all of the daggers easily enough. Raaster is able to provide a variety of daggers. Basic ones are free. Masterwork ones are 200 apiece. MW daggers would confer a +1 bonus to the attacks by the spell.

OOG: Anything else you'd like to purchase?

[mshady]

He nods with a grin, pocketing the gold away. He certainly seems grateful of the gold-giving, and is certainly looking to put it to good use, just like he's said - he tries to find his way to the weapons rack once Arman takes his leave, looking for where they might have items sized for him that he can purchase. "That elf fellow is right. I better get SOMETHIN' at least with all of this. Even if fighting ain't my main expertise. Nothin' beats a good bonkin' weapon, though..." Indeed, he seems particularly interested in light maces if there are any, musing to himself as he scurries about the place. For a halfling, he IS pretty quick on his feet, too.




When Raaster finally gets to Wyatt, he shakes his head at the request at first.

"Ye want a what? Why'd we have that here? We're dwarves, lad! Even our children would nay have a use fer such a small weapon" he says, with a sense of pride.

Scratching his beard, he thinks about it.

"Oi, I 'ave an idea. That lad Magnum just gave me a bigger mace 'hat was enchanted 'lready. Noth'n fancy, o'course. There be a ritual he can do for ye, or Nalrak I reckon. It'll size that weapon to yer size and a bit less even, I think. Perfect size for ye, I think! I have some runes and crystals, maybe. Ye need that mace to some kinda other damage to really hurt someone 'ith it, lad. Any preference? I can do most o'what ye can think of. Fire? Acid? Holy?"

[King Tius]

"Sold! A boost to me healing could really have come in handy this last battle." Nalrak will purchase the ring and make his way to one the chambers to pray to Dumathoin.


OOG: Did we level up from 6-7?

[Melody]

Sable looks down at the dwarf in front of her. We'll let Carmard decide that won't we? I'm Buelyir Granvil's messenger, and right now not only are you not going to stop me. You are going to escort me as quickly as you can. Because if you do not I shall be irate. Sable leans down closer to the dwarf letting him see for a moment the full fury on her face. Very, very, irate. She straightens up suddenly pointing a finger in the direction the dwarf had indicated. GO! The order is barked out with force as she clearly expects the dwarf to start moving and fast.

[mshady]

As Sable steps into the dwarf’s space, he takes a reflexive step back. Sable steps towards him again and the dwarf step back… but this time he finds his back to the crystalline wall of Faitholme.

Sable looks down at the dwarf in front of her. "We'll let Carmard decide that won't we? I'm Buelyir Granvil's messenger, and right now not only are you not going to stop me. You are going to escort me as quickly as you can. Because if you do not I shall be irate. Sable leans down closer to the dwarf letting him see for a moment the full fury on her face. Very, very, irate. She straightens up suddenly pointing a finger in the direction the dwarf had indicated. "GO!" The order is barked out with force as she clearly expects the dwarf to start moving and fast.

The dwarf cringes a bit at the sharply worded order and grasps the holy symbol of Dumathion that hangs from his neck. Whatever his other talents and trade, this one is clearly not one of the elite dwarven soldiers she was becoming accustomed to seeing.

“Ye-yes. It’d be best I, um, guide ye over there to introduce ye. Suppose that’s alright if ye bear a message from the Watcher… Come with me, human”

The dwarf side steps out from under her gaze and walks briskly. The walk itself is almost two miles across the massive cavern. It is wide open space full of marbled crystal of various colors. Pretty, if one had time to appreciate it…

After the long walk, Sable’s legs ache a bit from the exertion. STILL no sleep after that battle and march through the Underdark.

As she closes, she sees a looming staircase with a holy symbol of a mountain with a green gem over it. It seems to watch her approach and feels beyond ancient. Did the dwarves even create this place?

Sable ascends the stairs with a huff. They are rather steep and it feels more like climbing a mountain; no doubt the point someone was trying to make. The walls are decorated with rich tapestries, a seeming obsession of these dwarves. They depict a variety of scenes she didn’t bother to glance at.

At the top, she sees a short hallway and a large room. It is alive with a blue luminescence and Carmard stands in the middle of it. A panoply of focuses lay around the room and Carmard has on a crystal helmet that seems to shimmer with energy. As she approaches, she sees the room is, indeed, full of mirrors.

Mirrors that must be a 100 feet tall. Dozens of them arrayed in a circle. Each has an image on them of some location or another and they flip through from place to place. Scenes of fire. Scenes of the Hells. Scenes of water. Of great cities. Of Waterdeep. Of a small village with a wooden palisade full of crops. An enormous cavern that glows red, one that has been carved out by fire. A near perfect sphere now filling with magma.

The room is otherwise silent, beyond the strained breathing of Carmard and his drone of incantations. She watches for a long moment, and scenes replay themselves. The final moments before the Stoneburner disappeared play in one. How was that possible?

Turning towards Sable, the scrying on each mirror freezes and Carmard removes his helmet. His face is beyond pale, his eyes are shot with blood and he seems to shake but he seems to retain is composure. Sable realizes that he must have been at this for hours now. That he did not look at all crazed from being at the center of so much magic is a remarkable testament to his will... Or maybe his was a quiet kind of crazy?

“Sable. I asked nay to be interrupted. Knowing thus, yet ye come to me. Why?” Carmard says. His voice seems a bit… unearthly. The deep bass of it is felt in her bones and the images shimmer behind him with each word.

The dwarf besides her steps away and disappears down the hallway.

Taken to private messages...

[mshady]

Drawing closer to the wall Nalrak sees finely wrought doors lining the crystal wall. In the center is the hammer and anvil of Moradin each detail exquisite. To the right lies a door with interlocking silver rings and to the left two crossed battleaxes. Down the line Nalrak walks seeing the a silver needle with crystal flame rising from it for Sharindlar, a shining bronze mask with eyeholes of ruby that glimmer like fire, and then he sees the chamber for prayer to Dumathoin. The mountain is cut out of a darker crystal than the door and a faceted gem glimmers from its depths. Dumathoin, god of buried wealth and keeper of secrets. Nalrak brushes his fingers across the symbol reverently but before he enters the chamber he realizes that this isn’t the last door.

An old tapestry showing the hammer and anvil of Moradin and the interlocking silver rings of Berronar Truesilver cover a dusty door engraved with a jeweled dagger. Apparently though a shrine to Abbathor has been included here it is disused and unwanted. Entering the chamber Nalrak sees that the walls, ceiling, and floor appear to be rough hewn by hand. The altar seems a piece of rough stone and in the center a diamond can be seen, partially uncovered from the stone faceted and gleaming though still held fast. Several smooth stone benches are placed in the chamber for comfort during prayer.

Nalrak stands alone in the chamber. He can feel the age of this room in his very bones. It feels like a profound sense of serenity that no magic but time itself could reproduce.

[Strangie]

"Hey, now. I have uses for such small weapons - light weapons suit my style, my friend," he replies at Raaster.

He ponders at the thought of his weapon dealing additional damage.

"Hmm... maybe... those sound nice." He nods for a moment. "I gotta be able to dish it out too - I don't carry a weapon for nothin'. If you can size it small enough to the point where it can be swung around with some finesse..." He draws his light mace out as an example. "Kinda like this. That'd be perfect. As for what kinda damage?" He thinks for a moment, tapping his foot. "How about electric? I like the sound of that. I'm quick as lightning - I think it suits me, heh heh... hm. Yeah, let's go for that. Can you hook me up, Raaster?" He finishes with a grin.

[loopy]

Johannes

Johannes hefts the bag of gold and gems, looking slightly pained at the weight. "Now, I'm sure having all this currency is fine and dandy, but its not going to help me much where we are going. I was wondering if you had any other named artefacts, like that fancy new frost axe over there."

He dons his new cloak and protective chain shirt. "Failing that, any item that increases my intellect wouldn't go astray..."

[mshady]

“Huh” is all Tasster says. The exuberance drains out of him as he looks over Thordek. It quickly turns to frustration as he stalks back to his armsmen cursing. The two looks between each other, not sure what to expect next. With a vicious kick, he sends a clay jug of ale flying against the wall. It shatters in a spray of liquid and fragments. He grunts in satisfaction and turns back to face Thordek with an ugly look on his face.

“Three weeks now I’ve… I’ve sat here and stewed! Or maybe it’s a month now? You promised me if I fought with ye, you’d get me to the Patriarch. Where is he? Is he so important he cannae speak with me? I am a Prince o’the Iron House of Tethyamar in exile! I will not be treated as such! Especially by the Clan that so weakened us. How many times ‘ave I gone up those mountains and slew one demons to have two more take its place? You owe us this help and I’m not leaving till it be given!” Tasster roars. When he is done, he shakes his head and snatches up a drink from one of his dwarves and down it like a mug of water.

“Thordek, Thordek… most sorry for my outburst. I’m sure you’re good for your Oath, that ye may not know the history between your Clan and mine. I spoke to that… that blue haired bitch Glorian who told me to go home, that the Patriarch would see me when the troubles have passed. We had words about that, oh yes we did! At least I know somethin’ of the troubles now! So… maybe she wasn’t trying to dismiss me. Hmph. So, sounds like a glorious fight indeed you just came from. You won a duel as well? Magnificent! Quite the warrior, you are Thordek. Quite. I look forward to fight’n by your side someday soon in my mountains. Tell me, is Kerik with ye on this fight as well? He’s a good sparr’n partner indeed. Mayhaps you’d like to spar sometime, eh?” Tasster says and punches Thordek in the shoulder with a wide grin on his face.

“So truly, what brings ye to see me? Recruiting once again?”

[mshady]

Wyatt

Rasster scratches his red beard for a moment, trying to remember what he has available for the plucky halfling. With a laugh, he snaps his suspenders and nods his head.

“Aye, we have a couple o’grafted runes. It’s dwarven forge magic. The rune is carved is a certain pattern, ye see? It draws in magic to power it and when it is properly saturated, the rune is sealed in precious metals … silver or gold normally. Once that’s done, it can be grafted on to a weapon in yer case but moved also. They be expensive though, should be ‘bout 6000 gold to sell it but I like yer pluck, so ‘bout 3500 for ye. How’s that sound, lad?”

[bchilders]

Magnum

I'll take one of those rings and any word about those bracers or scrolls?

I'll be out of town for a few days....feel free to NPC anything you need to

[King Tius]

Nalrak

Nalrak stands in the chamber for a moment before smiling. "Even the brother of the Silent Keeper finds a home at Faithholme." Nalrak offers a quick but respectful prayer to the God of Greed, harping on his devotion to the Morndinsamman. He then makes his way into Dumathoin's chamber where he will pray and memorize his spells.

[mshady]

Raaster describes the gauntlets of giantfelling and the sacred scabbard to Magnum as well...

Gauntlets of Giantfelling

These leather gloves are cracked and worn, but still quite durable

When you activate gauntlets of giantfelling, you gain a bonus on th next weapon damage roll you make against a creature larger that you before the end of your next turn.

The extra damage is based on how many size categories larger than you the target is.

1 size category = 1d6
2 size categories = 2d6
3 size categories = 3d6

This ability functions 3 x day

Cost: 2000

Sacred Scabbard

This hardened leather scabbard is inscribed with pictograms depicting many different kinds of weapons

A sacred scabbard can change shape to fix any dagger, sword or axe touched to it, even making allowances for double weapons. The scabbard keeps any weapon carried in it clean and sharp. Furthermore, three times per day, you can command it to produce a bles weapon effort on the weapon it holds as you draw it. This effect lasts for 10 rounds. A sacred scabbard functions only for good aligned characters.

Cost: 4400

OOC Note: Not sure if Magnum is still here, but I'll assume he'll purchase these and add them to his sheet. There would not be much money left for scrolls, however.

Also, Magnum has time to brew a single potion. What would he like to brew?

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

OOG: HP gain is whatever you roll. Just add it to your sheet.

Kelith is able to find all of the daggers easily enough. Raaster is able to provide a variety of daggers. Basic ones are free. Masterwork ones are 200 apiece. MW daggers would confer a +1 bonus to the attacks by the spell.

OOG: Anything else you'd like to purchase?

{{Those daggers were all I need, thanks. Sorry about the delay in posting, it seems every time for the past 3-5 days I've had time and tried to post the boards have been down so I couldn't. [roll0]. My character is now good to go I believe.}}

edit: Wouldn't happen to allow re-rolls on 1's do ya? :smallbiggrin:

[mshady]

Raaster is approached by Johannes to see what the Caretaker might have of use for his particular skill set. There is little besides the standard equipment. Much of the extra abilities are not something he can utilize either.

Discouraged, he tosses his bag of gold and gems into his frame backpack and trundles off to find Faitholme's temple to Marthamor Duin, his patron and the dwarven God of travel and exploration.

The walk is almost two miles, a breathtaking walk considering the combat and the long walk proceeding it. He sees Nalrak up ahead of him and Sable accompanied by a dwarf he does not recognize. She disappears up a flight of stairs with the dwarf. A few minutes later the dwarf comes back down alone.

That's odd, he thinks. Nalrak heads into one of the temples ahead, the one marked with a mountain and a green emerald.

Priest of Dumathion he thinks, marking down his companion's faith mentally.

When he reaches the "temple district" for lack of a better term, he sees the familar "Boot" marking the temple to his faith. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he steps inside the temple.

Like everything else here, it is overly large. There are no stone benches here, only foot prints marking where ancient congregations must have stood. The walls are decorated with a motiff of travel. A stone road winds its way around the room with an intricately carved dwarf at times. Sometimes he is resting. Sometimes fighting. Sometimes exploring. Quite often he is drinking. He always walks with a staff in one hand and a map in the other. Unless he is fighting, of course. The room is also decorated with a travel motif, with things like canteens, bed rolls, backpacks and so on. As far as temples of his faith go, this was by far the largest. Travellers by definition did not often stay long enough to build a real temple. It was somewhat contrary to the tenets of the faith.

In the front of the temple is a stone strine shaped like a boot. There are several stone buckets as well, although they are more the size of bath tubs. He bends knee and says his customary prayers. When he finishes, he examines the buckets again.

Knowing the custom of his faith's temples, approaches the buckets. Inside, he sees all kinds of useful things left by previous travellers for others who pass along the way. Much of it is rusted out or cracked, a testament to just how old the place is and how few travellers had been there of late. He frowns and moves to the one on the right side of the shrine and rummages around through it as well. At the bottom, his hand wraps around something familar and he pulls it out.

In his hand, he finds an amulet and smiles. Someone had left a holy symbol of his God in this barrel and he can tell by its feel that it is no ordinary working. He dons the symbol and feels its effects upon him. Smiling at his find and the generosity of those who came before he returns to the shrine and says a prayer of thanks. He also leaves a tribute of gold in the bucket that mingles with the rest...

Johannes has acquired a greater holy symbol of Marthamor Duin

+2 Inspiration, +10 feet movement speed, sustenance effect after 1 week of wear.

[mshady]

{{Those daggers were all I need, thanks. Sorry about the delay in posting, it seems every time for the past 3-5 days I've had time and tried to post the boards have been down so I couldn't. [roll0]. My character is now good to go I believe.}}

edit: Wouldn't happen to allow re-rolls on 1's do ya? :smallbiggrin:

OOC: Actually you get an average or better. Since you rolled less than your average, you get a roll of 4. I'll add that to your character sheet.

[loopy]

Johannes

Contemplating his new holy symbol, Johannes prays to Marthamor Duin for guidance and protection as he leaves his home plane for the first time.

Marthamor Duin, Your humble travelling companion remains true to the path You have set for him. I could not have expected joining the scouts could ever lead me as far from my birthplace as it has, and from the talk of the others I'll be travelling e'er farther from hearth and home.

I now pray that you watch over my companions and I, as we continue our journey. Provide us with perserverence and endurance in the face of difficulty, and the wisdom to always take the right path.

I request, finally, that you keep my clan safe in my absence, life being its own journey. Please accept my offering.

Johannes leaves 5000 gold, his spyglass, a bears endurance potion, and three cure light wounds potions for whatever soul may need them in the future. He then bows his head and moves to leave the temple proper, seeking to find a library with information on their destination.

[thorgrim29]

“Three weeks now I’ve… I’ve sat here and stewed! Or maybe it’s a month now? You promised me if I fought with ye, you’d get me to the Patriarch. Where is he? Is he so important he cannae speak with me? I am a Prince o’the Iron House of Tethyamar in exile! I will not be treated as such! Especially by the Clan that so weakened us. How many times ‘ave I gone up those mountains and slew one demons to have two more take its place? You owe us this help and I’m not leaving till it be given!” Tasster roars. When he is done, he shakes his head and snatches up a drink from one of his dwarves and down it like a mug of water.

“Thordek, Thordek… most sorry for my outburst. I’m sure you’re good for your Oath, that ye may not know the history between your Clan and mine. I spoke to that… that blue haired bitch Glorian who told me to go home, that the Patriarch would see me when the troubles have passed. We had words about that, oh yes we did! At least I know somethin’ of the troubles now! So… maybe she wasn’t trying to dismiss me. Hmph. So, sounds like a glorious fight indeed you just came from. You won a duel as well? Magnificent! Quite the warrior, you are Thordek. Quite. I look forward to fight’n by your side someday soon in my mountains. Tell me, is Kerik with ye on this fight as well? He’s a good sparr’n partner indeed. Mayhaps you’d like to spar sometime, eh?” Tasster says and punches Thordek in the shoulder with a wide grin on his face.

“So truly, what brings ye to see me? Recruiting once again?”

Thordrek takes another careful step back when Tasster rages away, then he sighs loudly and motions to him to sit down.

No, not recruiting, I am only here to say hello, and see how you're doing... Look Tasster, I understand your frustration. But you have to beleive that even though some people in the Patriarchate are a bit morally questionable, Glorian comes to mind, most of 'em are out to do good, and are good and proper dwarfs who honor their oaths. Thing is, the Jilkers have lost their home too, permanently, and suffered for I don't know how many years because of it. It has made some of them into monsters, others into shining paragons of all a dwarf should be, but I think all of them will help you when they figure you have helped them enough, it just might be a tad longer then what you and I think is enough.... But when the time calls, call for me, and I'll do my best to be there, along with any of my crew who are willing... Some of the mirabar lads I know who live in Mithral Hall might want in too...

But right now, I know that's not what you want to hear, but I have absolutely no pull or influence over the patriarch, so I've got nothing more for you then my friendship and my promise.

Oh and the big hairy fellow is with us all right, he might be happy to see you.

[mshady]

“Oi! Kerik’s here? I’ll have to go see the old, bull headed brute!” Tasster says happily. “Come on, lads! That old bull pasted me one too many times and he owes he some sparring ‘fore he goes” Taaster says to his armsmen. They nod and stand, than look for their armor.

As they move away, Tasster turns back to Thordek.

“I’m sure yer right ‘bout most of it and any help from Mirabar or Mithril Hall’d be most welcome. That’s a mighty walk, especially when the Patriarchate has so much in that area. Oi though, that name can burn a shield dwarf’s beard though! Tis a very old line of things. Our patron be Dumathion and our many other Gods. The Father is a respected elder, yes but has a light hand o’things. Your Patriarchate insists on very old ways. A king and priest together? Veneration of Moradin above all? I’m sure someday they’ll get off their calcified arses and help, unlike you and yours ready to go right now! They owe us this though. You talk about how they lost their home too and it was such a hardship?” Tasster laughs. It is a roaring belly laugh that borders on the maniac.

“I nay suppose they told ye it was the Iron House of Tethyamar and its many Clans who drove’em out o’their home now did they? We took them in after they were driven from another home and taught our children about faith and lore. Their leader became one o’our most powerful Thanes. Then they stole from our treasury and left us to form a new home. If that weren’t enough, lad… they attacked us to take back even more relics! Broke into our Halls, killed some, robbed us and fled. We marched out to the Thunderpeaks and pounded them outta their little goblin hole and into the Underdark, we did. Bled us white in the process with their magic and their golems, oh yes!

When our other allies abandoned us, greedy humans and jealous merchants all, the goblin hordes arrived after the Battle of Bones with many demons and drove us out. My father, King Ghellin, was made a beggar goin’ from realm to realm askin’ for help. Now here I sit beseeching these oathbreakers for help to take back our own Halls. They now want to proclaim their piety and all dwarves into a united fellowship? Well to us and many others, they must undo their greatest wrong is what I say.” Tasster says, finishing his proclamation. The ugly look of disdain and an ancestral grudge shine brightly in his intense eyes.

Than he switches back to over exuberance.

“So! Lets go see my old friend Kerik! I’m of a mind to offer him whatever gold he’d want to fight by our side. What do ye think? Fought with’em twice now, have ye? Aren’t they just glorious at your side in battle! Someone bring a keg for Kerik! Surely after all the beheadings of this day, he’s a thirsty bull indeed! Come! Come!”

With that, Tasster turns and throws on his armor but leaves it only partly done. He snatches up his pronged spear and axes and waits for Thordek to join him.

[mshady]

Arman and Raaster haggle for a short period of time over prices and departs for a store room grumbling. He returns with several scroll tubes in hand and a significant amount of gold is passed from Arman to Raaster that leaves both parties noticably happier.

[Strangie]

Wyatt wilts a little at the price, realizing he doesn't have enough to cover it.

"Aw... I don't have that much on me. Despite on how great of a deal that is! I unfortunately don't have anything I can trade either. Argh! Oh well... I'm a little over a thousand short... Thanks for the offer, though, Raaster, I appreciate that, mate."

Wyatt folds his arms, disappointed at his own poorness, but shrugs it off. He walks with Raaster while they go to see Kerik, having to take many more steps to keep in stride with the tall folk but still manages it.

"Perhaps somethin' I can just stick on my weapon or armor? I don't know, you seem to be the expert." He counts out on his fingers. "I can sneak around pretty good, I got good awareness... I'm good with them traps... and I can, uh... bonk stuff. And I like makin' sure nobody can hurt me, or even more so, touch me. Surely you gotta have somethin' I can use for two and a half grand that's good for a little scout like me! What can I get for almost two and a half grand? I gotta make a good impression on these guys - they helped bail me out of a tough jam. I'm one of their newest recruits, eh heh..."

[Rather Dashing]

The halfling awakes suddenly, jumping to his feet. "What's going on?! Where am I?!" He runs to the black bear still laying on the ground. "Who are you guys?!"

[mshady]

Rasster turns and looks over towards the commotion to see the once still halfling up and panicking about his surroundings. He is shaking his wounded bear, trying to awake it but all that it does is groan and return to silence.

“I thought they were dead or prisoners o’some kind? Dammit! Who are they, Wombat? Err, whatever yer name is. Ye know that one over there?” Rasster grumbles. “Why didn’t someone ‘ave a priest look at’em! Buna! Kelith! Get yer arses over here!”

[Strangie]

Wyatt suddenly freezes in his tracks after his business proposition, turning his head quickly at the halfling and the bear.

"Oh, crap! I thought he was just sleeping! Nobody filled him in while I was resting earlier!? He was travellin' with me when we got ganked! Gah! GAH!" He freaks out, flailing a bit with his arms and running over swiftly. Any normal dwarf won't be able to keep up with him. "Hey! Jeth! Relax! These people are okay - they're the ones that saved us! Ya gotta calm down, mate!" He turns his head toward whoever approaches. "Whatever healin' ya got oughta be appreciated. Though I'm disappointed that nobody did anythin' prior... bah..."

[loopy]

Johannes

Religious observance complete, Johannes wanders around Faitholme, looking for anyone familiar from his first visit to the demi-plane. He idly looks around for somewhere to eat, realising that he's not feeling as hungry as he should be.

[King Tius]

Nalrak returns from his prayer and offers to help Magnum perform his weapon ritual. He will take Magnum and the necessary supplies to the altar of Dumathoin to perform the ritual.

[Katasi]

Arum buys his bracers and immediately puts them on, then goes of to practice with his new rapier until everyone else is ready to leave.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman "woke" from his reverie more rested than he thought he would have been. He got up and stretched a little, grabbing up his things and going to where everyone was getting some things.

He found himself at Raaster's stand, and asked for a few scrolls and some of the componets to go with one of them in particular. After haggling over the price, Arman was satisfied and handed the dwarf his bag of gold and gems. They had taken everything he had, but he was satisfied.

Rasster went to the back area of his stand, which was nothing more than a large niche cut out of the cavern wall, and grabbed the items requested by Arman, bringing them again to the front.

Arman looked all the scrolls over, and also looked into the two small bags of the components he asked for. He knew the dwarf wouldn't cheat him, but also knew that to not check was considered an insult to the vendor. He nodded in satisfaction and placed everthing in his pack.

He asked Raaster where the shrines were, and if they also had one for Corelion and Mystra. He was surprised to learn they did, and after getting directions, headed towards them, when a sound caused him to turn a little.

"What's going on?! Where am I?!" Arman heard someone say and turned to see the unconcious halfling awakening. The halfling ran to the black bear still laying on the ground, and started to shake him, trying to awake it. "Who are you guys?!"

Arman hesitated and wondered if he should go over there, but saw that Wyatt was alraedy on his way there, along with a few others. No sense in surrounding the halfling. Arman continued to head towards the shrine area.

When he got there, he was surprised at how many there were. None of the dark gods were to be found, but a couple of neutral and good gods were. He saw thirteen total. Moradin, Berronar, Dumathion, Clangeddin, Vergaiden, Sharindaliar, Haela, Gorm, Marthamor, Tyr, Mystryl, Hanali, and Corelleon.

Each one was situated in its own little alcove or niche cut within the wall. Some ran far back and others were just barely within. Arman even saw some steps going up, but the dwarf standing outside of it, didn't seem the type to allow him to go up. Arman nodded to the dwarf and continued towards the shrines.

Arman found the shrine for Corelleon first and was surprised at how beautiful it was. The whole wall around the shrine itself was beautiful, but the shrines took on the essence of the god they portrayed, which made them all unique to their god. The one for Corellion went in a little ways, to make it look more natural Arman supposed. For carved along the walls, were trees and animals. It seemed that if one shifted on way, the animals and trees would shift also, bringing a lifelike quality to the shrine. The carvings were only for about ten feet to either side of the shrine itself. The actual alter was rough cut stones, with stone vines and flowers climbing around it, and was set into the wall.

Arman knelt in front of the alter and said a small prayer in Elvish, to watch over him as he went to do his duty. He got up and went in search of the shrine for Mystra, which was the one for Mystryl. He knew that Mystryl was now gone, and Mystra was in his place, but they both had the same tastes it seemed, because if the chamber had been changed, it didn't show or he couldn't tell.

He found it a few niches down and went in, surprised at how much of Nirvana it represented. Clock works were carved into the walls, and everything was orderly. One could imagine the whole room being a giant clock itself. The alter was of simple design, with Mystra's symbol cut into it. The red mist that flowed from / into the circle of stars was painted red, and seemed to be flowing. Arman realized it was a trick of the lights within the alcove, and the red paint which seemed to have some sparkly additive. The light flickered within the room, to create the shadows that created the flow within the symbol. The shrine was more a temple he realized, and wondered at that.

Aside from the dwarven temples along the length of the two mile walk to get to the rest, he would have thought that the others would have had the same thing. Interesting that it did not.

Arman bowed to the altar and asked Mystra for blessings for the upcomming battle. He soon left the alcove and made his way back to where everone was gathered. He was anxious to get going, and get out of the cavern. He definately wasn't suited to living in the cavern.

[Rather Dashing]

Jeth calms down seeing a familiar face, "What happened Wyatt? Everything is fuzzy"

Being a little more relaxed, he takes a look around at the surroundings to get a slight grasp on whats going on. Still concerned about his friend, he sits down next to his bear and speaks to it "Its going to be alright, we're gonna get you all healed up".

He looks up again with a slight concerned look, "What is this place? It's so unnatural."

[Strangie]

"It's alright," he simply replies. "We got ambushed on our travels, remember? Heh, but they sent the cavalry for us - though I'm sure rescuing our sorry butts wasn't their original intent. We're mercenaries now, Jeth. Er... sammikon, I think that Buna lady called 'em... but it's okay! I, uh... I think we might be the only survivors..." He frowns a little at that, looking down and away a bit.

"I haven't even met everybody yet... but there's some nice people mixed in here... we're in Faitholme right now, which I guess is some kinda stronghold for the dwarves... I don't know everything myself yet - don't worry though, we'll have someone fill ya in. We're in good hands." He turns his head, waving to his new comrades. "Lil' help over here?"

[thorgrim29]

I was.... not aware of that.... Anyways, have fun fighting the minotaur, I will go pray a bit then sleep my bruises off.

True to his words, Thordrek climbs up to the temples, to pray and meditate. First to Moradin's temple, on general principles, to ask for wisdom and mettle in the travels ahead and in leading a small band of good people. Then, he goes to the altar of Clanngeddin, where he throws the shirt he had worn during the battle, soggy with the blood of both him and his foes, in the fire as sacrifice. He prays to the god of battle to give him courage and determination. Finally, he goes to the temple of Dumathoïn and meditates longly on what he has learned, and asks for the wit to discover the Truth and the wisdom to know what to do with it.

He then goes to sleep.

[Rather Dashing]

Jeth replies "I guess that all makes sense" he rubs his head "After this beating you were almost the only survivor, I guess I owe them my life for rescuing me".

He looks to his friend and gives him a gentle rub on back, whispers quietly into his ear, and then leans back. He starts speaking druidic and waves his hand slowly in a series of precise movements. A faint glow appears in the chest of Jeth and then in his bear.

After a moment of the glow it fades out slowly as the bear grunts and starts to show signs of movement, "Relax, you're going to be fine, just rest for now. I'll get you some food and water".

Jeth stands up and looks back at Wyatt, with a hint of a smile "What are the chances of getting something to eat around here? Feels like we haven't eaten in days"

[Strangie]

"Might be because we haven't, heh... I'd say they're pretty good now. ... ah, heh. Almost forgot you were the healing sort - good thing, too. Maybe we can have someone get us both a decent meal for a change, eh?"

[mshady]

Thordek found himself a bit shaken by Tasster’s words. His was always a bitter brew, but perhaps there was some justification to it? He says his goodbyes to the Fiendslayer and leaves to walk to the opposite end of Faitholme, and what a walk it was! Pony’s, at the least, would not have gone amiss here.

Thordek says his prayers at the Temple of Moradin and throws his horribly blood and sweat stained earthsilk jersey into the altar fires in the Temple of Clangeddin. His sacrificed by a momentary sense of peace and bliss, followed by the extremely distasteful smell of his shirt. The fire itself is nearly choked out by the shirt, but somehow survives.

The temple of Dumathion is one of the four main dwarven temples in Faitholme and its scale is similarly epic. Thordek enters it and finds himself looking down a long, sloping stairway. It runs as far as his eyes can see and it is barely lit except for the slightest glow from an unusual moss. That anything grew here at all must mean it is either of divine origin or carefully added by the Caretakers. As he walks down the stairwell and away from the light, his darkvision takes over replacing the muted colors he once saw. Only where the moss grows can he see color now, and it has an interesting effect. Although he cannot fathom or put order to the meaning, the great staircase’s carvings are seen in a beautiful green luminescence. It had another interesting effect as well; it distracted him from walking on the stairs and he stumbled and nearly fell down the stairs. For all the attention to design, a railing would not have gone awry either.

It takes Thordek nearly half an hour to reach the bottom of the staircase. It winds around at the end and he finds a circular chamber beneath the stairwell he just descended from. The circular chamber’s ceiling rises up into a pyramid. Or a mountain. That was when he understood the point of the descent. Dumathion was the Keeper of Secrets under the Mountain. It was fitting a temple dedicated to Him would be under a mountain. The concept was not unfamiliar to him but the execution was on a grand scale.

Sparsely lit by a few magical ever burning torches, the chamber itself is full of hundreds of plain stone benches of intricate design. The corners are set with green gems. In the center of the room is a great speaking circle where ancient Talhunds, priests of Dumathion must have spoken. An enormous green emerald the size of a house sits in the center of the speaking circle. As Thordek steps into the circle and looks about, he sees that he is not at the end of the chamber but in the center of it. Stone benches surround him. Thousands of them… It is a giant amphitheatre, he realizes. The walls themselves are lined with squares as well. Burial vaults, he realized. But for who?

He tries to imagine the room filled, but he cannot quite wrap his mind around that.

While Thordek had been to Faitholme once before, he began to realize how much more there was to it than the vault like portal rooms and the expansive main floor. How little had he seen of it? How much more was there left to see? At least part scholar, he felt a yearning to know all of it and half wondered if even the Caretakers knew the whole place?

Setting aside one thing to contemplate for another, he takes a seat in the front row looking directly at the great emerald. With his ritual prayers completed, he sits in silence and solitude. Thordek thinks about the questions on his mind...



Why had the Jilkers attacked the Tethyamar hundreds of years ago? Was that true?

He thinks long and hard on that question before he realizes the enormous green gem had a subtle, but deep luminescence now and he somehow knew the answer to his question was “Yes”. It was true.

If that was true did the dwarven pantheon, the Moradinsamman, did still bless them after the attack that drove them into the Underdark?

The gem glows again, this time pulsing slowly twice in response. The answer was… “No” No?

If the Clan was no longer recognized by the Moradinsamman, was the Patriarchate now?

The emerald glows a bright green in response to this. It took no inner contemplation to recognize that as a resounding “Yes”.

As the light died down, Thordek watched it fade to complete lifelessness again. Those were all the answers he was going to get, but they only left him with more questions. The more he thought about it, there was not a great deal of education about Jilker Clan in and of itself while he was in Barakbar. Fairly recent history consisted of how the Clan had moved into the Underdark and some had fled from below to the surface and found the Patriarchate. There was always some talk about their heretical cousins and talk, mainly from Glorian in one of her fiery lectures, about correcting their views on faith. That was before the Stoneburner. Clearly this mission was not what the Patriarchate intended for it to do. That could mean it only had one other purpose….



Done with what he came for, Thordek stands up again and looks around trying to take the scene in once more. He now hears the clomp-clomp-clomp of heavy boots echoing down the stairs and wonders who has came to join him.

After waiting several long minutes, two dwarfs approach. At first, he does not recognize him due to the distance but it becomes quickly apparent that it is Nalrak Ironfist, the party's cleric of Dumathion and a veteran Forgemark priest. Alongside him is Magnum Rurik, the party's cleric of Clangeddin that normally accompanies Tolrin.

[mshady]

Nalrak, Thordek and Magnum are now in the Temple of Dumathion

[mshady]

A red haired female dwarf, the Arcanii Buna, approaches Jeth and Wyatt with Rasster in tow. She looks down at the halfing as he pets the slowly awakening bear. While Rasster gives it a nervous look, Buna seems unconcerned about the bear.

“So, you’re awake now. Our apologies for not getting’ ye any healing sooner, little lad, but we’ve just left the battlefield that freed ye after a long fight and a longer march. Ye got lost in the shuffle and exhaustion, I suppose although that drunken Minotaur carried ye and your bear over and looked ye over” she says and points to a crudely wrapped bandage across his chest.

“It seems ye were taken prisoner by a particularly nasty bunch o’orcs that are no more or nearly so. Our scout, Sable, snuck into where ye were bein’ held and protected ye while the last o’the orcs were cleared out. We’re members o’the Forgemark Legion o’the Jilker Patriarchate, the Church of Moradin and his family. The place yer in is called Faitholme. If it seems strange to ye, know that it be on another Plane o’existence. It was created long ago by our ancestors as a place of meeting and worship to help bind the ancient Kingdom of Deep Shanatar together and lost to us for some time until our Patriarch re-opened it a few years ago” Buna says and smiles, gesturing to the miles of open space in the enormous crystal cavern.

“A warning to ye though; do not speak of Faitholme to others for this is a secret place. Few not of the dwarfs or very close allies have ever visited it. Neither of ye are here by choice, but we could nay betray the principles o’our faith for the secrets o’our faith and leave ye. Where you were is now a pit of lava. Nor can we leave ye now...

I understand yer friend signed on with a mercenary group to explore the Underdark. I presume ye are a druid or ranger o’some type as ye are accompanied by a bear. While money ‘ay not have the same draw for ye as it does for the other, we do offer ye the chance for some interest’n exploration” Buna says, and smiles a slightly frosty smiles. “Well, I reckon ‘offer’ may be overstatin’ the proposition. You’ll be com’n with us. Can’t very well leave ye here nor can we ‘fford the time to take ye back. So yes, you are now Sammikon. A trusted mercenary.”

Buna lets that settle in for a moment and rummages through her satchel and withdraws a small sack.

“Half yer pay up front in gems, nay metal coin. Should be the equal to ‘bout 1000 gold. If ye want to wash, there be a bath area and bunks ‘bout two miles south o’here. Left or right wall, take yer pick. I’d wash the bear too” she says, her nose slightly upturned. “Yer both a bloody mess.”

[mshady]

Magnum and Nalrak enter the Temple of Dumathion where Thordek has been praying. Magnum leads the way with a sputtering torch in one hand and his heavy mace in the other. Both dwarves have a rather awestruck look upon their faces, craning their necks and looking around the temple.

Magnum whistles and scratches his beard, taking in the natural architecture before acknowledging Thordek.

“Oi! Thordek! Good to see ye here!” Magnum says and ambles down the central walk way. “We’re here for a weaponry ritual, take this big mace o’mine and make it a wee smaller for that wee little halfing. Nalrak ‘nd I thought this would be a good place for it, weren’t quite expect’n this though. Ye mind if we get ‘n there, Thordek?” Magnum says.

Thordek steps aside, allowing Magnum to set up and Nalrak prays. His prayers are not related to the ritual but his usual devotions. They take half an hour for him to get through properly while Magnum waits.

In the meantime, Magnum has set up a circle to the right of the main altar and the massive emerald and placed the mace on a small stand there. With a sprinkle of diamond dust over it, the two priests begin the incantations. The mace glows with a subtle energy as the two priests cooperate and combine their wills to assist with the ritual. The gentle magic flowing into the weapon slowly shrinks it down to size over the course of half an hour. The procedure is slow, to avoid over powering the item and judging the correct amount of power to do such a thing is a subtle matter. Empowering an item was one thing, shrinking it to size another.

With that complete, Nalrak places his newly recovered gauntlets that were taken from the ogres. Far too massive to fit on Nalrak’s arms as they were, the two priests begin the same procedure. This one is far harder, considering the old and powerful magic. At first, the gauntlets refuse any alteration and the two priests start the ritual again using more power this time. Finally, the gauntlets shrink to size and the ritual is complete. Nalrak puts the bulky bracers on, now sized almost perfectly. He smiles, a sense of pride in his eyes to bear something lost from his Clan.

An hour and a half since they began and over two hours since they set out, the two priests are complete and bid their farewells to Thordek if the dwarf is still there.

Upon exiting, Magnum returns to the dining area and seeks out Rasster the Caretaker to find where he can brew a potion or two and get some rest…

[bchilders]

Magnum

After buying the two items for sale, Magnum heads off with Nalrak to perform the necessary rituals.

Drained from the rituals but also riding high from the excitement of being a conduit for Clangeddin's power Magnum sets off to see if he can make a few potions before the group heads out. He stops by to ask a few of his companions if they have any suggestions or requests before he finds Raaster to locate the necessary equipment.

Does anyone have any request for a 1st through 3rd lvl spell in potion form. If not I'll probably make some remove curse of lesser restoration potions. Magnum prefers making healing and restorative potions so that he can save his spells to cast for fighting spells.

But let me know if anyone wants anything in particular. I'll go over the spell lists and give you the final answer later today MShady.

[mshady]

A note on potions:

Assuming we are here for 12 hours as Carmard said and 8 hrs of rest required, Magnum will still have time to make the potions. In fact, I am going to use the 4E rules for potion brewing in part. That means it only takes 1 hr to make a potion. There is still the XP penalty for making them, however.

The Valkyrie Ring that Magnum just acquired will boost his level by 1 when brewing any healing potions, but he cannot empower the potions with the ring.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

With nothing left to do or purchase Kelith will wait in the pub sipping on a mug of ale for his companions to finish their tasks.

{{Sorry about the delay in posting, went out of state this weekend and the internet was too spotty to post.}}

[Strangie]

Wyatt stares at the bag handed to Jeth, raises an eyebrow, then sloooowly turns his head up at Buna.

"So... we both get that, right? Because if I do, it's gonna go right back into Faitholme anyway - havin' that will put me up enough to go along with Raaster's suggestion of gettin' some additional energy damage added to my weapon - speakin' of which, I oughta be expectin' said weapon from that Magnum dwarf any minute now. Then I can slap an energy crystal on it and I would truly have a worthwhile weapon, yeah?"

Wyatt grins up at Buna. "It's gonna be somethin' else, lemme tell ya."

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek stares at the ritual for a while, but dozes off. He leaves the temple and goes off to find a bed, figuring that if a complex magical ritual like that was not enough to keep him interested, it is time to sleep.

[Melody]

Sable left the hall of mirrors and went to the bathing area. To anyone that had seen her go in, the change was dramatic. Her face showed none of the previous anger, her expression was one of thoughtfulness. She peeled off her armor she rubbed soap into the leather, working it through and finally wiping it away with a damp cloth. Pulling out a bottle she added a softener before the leather could harden or shrink. Methodically she cleaned the metal pieces, removing rust before it built up. After she finished she coated the metal with something to darken it, leaving the pieces a non reflective black. Looking over her handy work she set it where the water from the pool wouldn't reach and climbed in, leaving a towel beside the pool.

The water was almost uncomfortably warm and smelled of minerals. She wriggled her toes to feel the sand beneath them and wondered how they had managed to create bathing pools this large and self heated. For a moment she decided it was magic until she saw the bubbles come up from the center of the pool. A hot spring. Water sluiced from this pool down into the next where it mixed with colder water. Sable felt muscles she didn't know were tensed loosen as she sat down on a carved bench in the side of the pool. Closing her eyes she relaxed. It seemed like mere moments had gone by when she started awake snorting and choking as she coughed up the water she had inhaled.

Looking around to see if anyone had seen her she notices the previously unconscious hin and his bear walking into the room.

[Rather Dashing]

Jeth looks up at Buna and the bag she's holding. "I do thank you for saving our lives, I owe you a debt that can only be repaid by my service, however this does help keep me stocked up" as he reaches out for the bag of jewels.

He gives the bear a solid pat and looks at the mix of brown fur and dried blood "Maybe we do need a little cleaning up before we eat." The bear looks up and starts to stand "I know you're hungry, after we clean up".

The bear on his feet starts lumbering toward the baths letting out a low growl, Jeth looks at him "Don't get grouchy, you'll eat soon". The two start walking away, the size of the large bear next to the small halfling make the bear seem even bigger.

After the long walk, they step inside the bath area, seeing someone inside looking like she just woke up, "I apologize ma'am, didn't know there was anyone here", as he turns around to leave. "I'll leave you to your bath..."

Jeth steps out of the room with the bear following closely, heading toward the other bath on the other wall.

[bchilders]

Magnum

After the ritual, Magnum finds Wyatt and hands over the weapon. "It might be smaller, but it still packs the punch of a larger weapon. You can't take the heart out of good craftmanship," Magnum says with a big grin. After watching Wyatt give the mace a few good test swings he adds, "You need any potions made? I going to go see Raaster about using some equipment to make me a few and was looking for any requests."

[mshady]

Buna rubs her temples and mutters something, than shakes her head in Wyatt’s direction.

“Aye lad, I forgot about that. My apologies there… Just, tired” she says, and smiles weakly. Despite the healing, the dwarf’s eyes are puffy from the beating she had taken. Her nose is red and swollen as well from when one of the devil orcs had either slugged her or slapped her in the face plate of her helmet with an axe. There’s only so much healing magic can do for you…

Reaching into her satchel, she pulls out a purse of coins and tests its weight in one hand than hands it over to Wyatt.

“Platinum pieces for ye, a thousand gold worth. Go see Rasster about yer weapon when the priests come back and he’ll see ‘bout the runes” Buna says and hands it to him absently as she scans the room. In the distance, she sees Tasster the Fiendslayer approaching with his honor guard and curses her luck. Sables passes her, heading the other way and she finds Carmard not too far behind him, walking wearily. Spying the caretaker, she walks over and greets him again. She briefly glances at a weary Thordek, who is walking off towards the barracks area as well.

“Oi, can ye have a smith see to me broken helmet? We took quite a beat’n…” she says. She gives a brief explanation of the work she needs done and the Caretaker in turn passes it off to one of his dwarfs, who scurries off to a workbench.

Magnum, Nalrak return bearing Wyatt’s new and now much smaller mace and give it to him. Wyatt in turn gives the mace and his old mace over to Rasster as well as every coin that he has. Another dwarf is dispatched to a work bench, this one a wizened old fellow with a grey beard. The dwarf smirks and makes a joke about it being more of a dwarven baby rattle than a weapon and that the only other rune they have available right now is a corrosive rune that does additional damage with acid. He promises to return in a few hours with it.

When Carmard finally reaches the central area where the remains of the party and the conjured feast are, he slaps the stone table a few times to wake the minotaurs. Growling at being disturbed from their drunken slumber, they are immediately placated by the rattle of coin.

“Pay time” he says to them. Kerik grunts in acknowledgement, and props himself up with a massive arm. He shakes Gore awake as well, as the minotaur immediately returned to his slumber. Now that they are both awake, more or less, they both begin placing the heads of the orcs they claimed on the table. More than two dozen are displayed and Carmard gives them several bags of coins. Assuming the bags are filled with gold coins, several thousand gold coins must have just changed and the grim Carmard hardly seem bothered. As for the minotaurs, they both took the coin bags and placed them in their own bags and did not bother to count it.

Coins in hand, Kerik and Gore growl a few choice words at Carmard and Kerik gestures at his horns with a menacing look on his already fearsome face.

“You pay well dwarf, but you gamble my life again, I put my horns through your chest. We kill devil next time for you. You lost the Stoneburner and near killed two others of my herd. You are a mad one. I only warn once on this. Dwarf gold is good, but not so good as that. Tempus not be pleased by a death such as that. Glory not be pleased you lost her bomb either. Tempus be with ye explaining that to her, eh?” he snorts at the end. His red eyes blaze with rage once again as he looks down at Carmard.

Carmard looks up at the massive minotaur and meets his eyes for several seconds, not matching the intensity but showing that he is not intimidated by it.

“Unless you two could fly, there was no beating that devil” he says calmly. “I explained myself once, Kerik. That is all ye get. Ye have our gold and there’s always more of it. Get some place proper to sleep or go say hello to the Fiendslayer. He’s staggering this way now. Remember two things though, bull…” Carmard says, and takes a step towards Kerik. “One: I am in command here. Two: Never threaten an Arcanii”

He gives the minotaur a sharp glare and Kerik returns it, but the two say no more and Carmard walks off.

After conversing briefly with Rasster himself, who has already dispatched another caretaker to clear away the heads and take them to the Temple of Clangeddin and another caretaker to clear the table, Carmard heads off to an unoccupied barracks himself.

As the area clears out, the Fiendslayer arrives and the dwarf strikes up a conversation with the minotaurs. They swap tales at the great table for the better part of an hour before the two end up in a furious sparring match. More than a little blood stains the floor from the combat, but neither combatant seems to mind. The clanging and banging of weapons and armor echoes through the otherwise empty chamber, no doubt making it hard for anyone already sleeping to continue to do so.

After a half an hour, that too dies down and the minotaurs two take their rest…

[Strangie]

(OOC - Long post, so I'll bold characters' names in so it's easier to determine who he is talking to at that moment.)

Buna and Jeth

"Thanks Buna! I knew ya wouldn't lemme down. No worries - you oughta rest!" He grins and nods, taking the bag and counting the platinum pieces throughly. "Right - I'll go see about the mace, then. Thanks for all of your guys' help - we might not be here if it weren't for ya, and I truly do appreciate, I do." He turns his head, making a quick saluting motion to Jeth. "I'll catch up with ya in a little while, friend. Just gotta go, ah, upgrade my arsenal, heh."

Magnum and Nalrak

With that, he walks off to Nalrak and Magnum, nodding to the both of them. He takes the new mace, looking it over. He twirls it around his wrist once, catching it again in his hand, and takes a fighting stance for a moment, holding his darkwood buckler in front of him with the mace held up a bit, ready to bear on someone. He takes a quick scurry to the side, jumping and giving it a test swing.

Fwoosh! He moves and swings with precision and without pause in his movement as his arm comes across his body with the mace, moving twice as fast as a normal dwarf or halfling as his feet go pitter-patter across the floor. He turns on his feet, coming to a stop and turning back toward Magnum and Nalrak, walking back over to them. "Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about - you guys did a fantastic job. This'll work handily, ahaha. Wait til you see your work in action, I'll make you guys proud."

He turns to Magnum about the potion request. "Potions? Ah, nah, mate - you've done enough for me already, I can't thank ya enough. Thanks for the offer though, I appreciate that. I won't let you down when things get messy out there, heh."

Raaster

Wyatt then proceeds to find Raaster, with a big grin on his face as he gives his new weapon a couple of test twirls in his hand on the way. He holds up the new mace and the old one, along with the required gold payment.

"Gonna charge me everything I have, huh? Well, that's alright - it'll be worth it in the end, as Carmard and everybody else will find out soon enough."

He merely raises an eyebrow at the dwarven baby rattle comment made by the dwarven wizard.

"Oi. You make all the jokes you want. It's all good, right? Few hours? Yeah, thanks." He doesn't seem bothered by it, probably having put up with such remarks for a while now, as he turns and walks off to go ready himself for the day to come.

After washing up and eating, he practices his fighting style with an ordinary dagger instead, finding an empty and open space to run about and practice his skirmish routine. He presses off with one foot, swishing the knife through the air deftly at his imaginary target, landing on the other foot and continues to run, tumbling every which way like some kind of midget acrobat. When the new mace is ready, he practices with that for a short while instead, grinning at the new acidic qualities of his weapon.

After training to make sure he's still at the top of his game, he finds a quiet place to rest, and tries to sleep through the annoying sounds of the minotaurs sparring in the background. However, he is a light sleeper and probably hears the whole thing.

[King Tius]

Nalrak

He smiles at Wyatt and nods. "Enjoy it. We can't have ye fighting with a weapon that isn't fit for ye."

He pats Magnum on the back. "Thank ye for the help. We've done well today. Let's get some food."

Nalrak heads back towards the bulk of the party and looks for some more stuff to eat (he's always hungry).

[Katasi]

Deciding his weapon needs a little magical help Arum goes searching for a caretaker to assist him as he enchants it.

[mshady]

Everyone in the party finally breaks up and goes their own way, getting a second helping of food or directly to whatever barracks area they desire. After the battles and long march, the rest and chance to bathe is a very refreshing. Magnum joins in the rest after brewing a few potions. The caretakers take any battered armor and shields that are proffered to pound the dents out of them and mend any holes in the bloody metal armor that most of the party wears.

Just as Carmard said, the group would only have 12 hours in Faitholme before they prepared to go. The wake-up call comes from an enormous gong that can be heard throughout Faitholme; surely its acoustics are magically enhanced. The sound reverberates through everyone’s body and startles them awake. The gong rings three times, each time with a dull and ancient tone.

As the group files in, the group finds Carmard standing by the enormous stone tables that compose the mess hall of Faitholme. Instead of his armor, Carmard is wearing heavy brown and black fatigues made of earthsilk and sandals. Practical and non-descript, it bears no mark of rank but is clearly a kind of uniform. He is also wrapped in a cloak that only adds to his extremely square appearance, the same one he wore in battle the day before. On his belt rest his two familiar pistols in their fine leather holsters. His black beard, flecked with grey, is once again tied down with an ornate clasp of gold once again and it is in fine trim. A whistle also hangs from his neck. Surprisingly enough, he is also wearing finely made spectacles that none in the party recall him wearing before. It gives him a look of scholarly distinction on an otherwise square and hard face. In his hand is a pocket watch, also of gold. Possessing one is extremely rare, as most time is kept by the sun or heavy water clocks. The Patriarchate was said to employ a few gnomish artificers for their fine mechanical works, which is perhaps the origin of the rare time piece. He also has his ubiquitous satchel at his side.

Buna stands with him, dressed in a fairly identical fashion. Her hair is now pulled back into a tight bun, giving her a look of stiff formality. Buna’s nose still looks swollen and a bit disjointed, but it is far better than the day before. Atop her head sits an overlarge beret of brown and gold. She too wears a cloak and the pistols on her belt as well. Aside from the lack of a beard, it would be hard to distinguish her as a woman.

Piles of food are laid out along a separate table; sausages, fruits, drinks, ciders, eggs and loaves of freshly baked bread. Unlike the conjured food from earlier, this has the smell and appearance of real food. The caretakers also provide a mug of ale to all, but no more to prevent anyone from getting too intoxicated.

“Morn’ Forgemark” Carmard says once everyone has arrived. His tone is even but loud enough to rattle anyone suffering from a hangover. “We’ll dispense with formation and be gett’n right to the business at hand. Eating. The Caretaker’s ‘ave generously opened up the larders for us. Tis a rare honor, ‘s only a minimal amount o’real food is kept here in case it’s attacked. No sense feed’n any occupiers. So, enjoy. It might be the last pleasant thing ye do for awhile” he says, taking care to make the last part sound ominous. “Ye have half an hour for food, than I have word on where we’re going.”

The meal time is somewhat rushed as large plates of food are taken by all and shoveled down with haste and urgency. Nalrak leads the way, eating constantly over the course of the half hour of allotted time and clearing several plates. The two minotaurs sit some distance away from the rest of the group and work their way through a bushel of apples, some pumpkins and a bucket of oat meal that had been specially prepared for them. Oddly enough, the two minotaurs are overjoyed as barbarian minotaurs could be over the presence of a jar of maple syrup. They also guzzle apple cider by the stein.

As the meal finishes, Carmard checks his pocket watch and bangs a spoon against his pewter mug until the group quiets down and he has their attention.

“Finish up the food ye have. Tis time we make ready to get back to our task and Moradin’s work, blessings be upon him” he says. Carmard makes an open palm and taps his fist to it, giving the traditional gesture of praise to Moradin. “As we’re o’mixed faith, I’ll spare us the invocation before orders that Nalrak or Magnum might give in a regular detachment and get right to it” Carmard says and rises.

He moves to the head of the table and stands stiffly with his hands folded behind him and says nothing. Instead, he looks at each member of the group for a moment before proceeding. Finally, he reaches into his satchel and sets down a notebook bound in fine black leather and leafs through it until he finds the page he was looking for. Carmard adjusts his spectacles and reviews the notes and looks up at the group.

“Our destination is the City of Doors. Sigil. It tis the greatest metropolis on any Plane. The whole of Waterdeep would not qualify as a block by comparison. The city is quite… diverse. You are likely to see every race imaginable, some that are not and even demons and devils walking the street. Even drow and duergar; all somewhat civilly too. You’ll see zombies used for menial labor. Bazaars the size of cities.

The city itself is divided amongst many factions. Each appeals to a certain philosophy. Members of most of these philosophical sects are also fanatics. Order is kept by two factions, the Harmonium and the Mercykillers. Both follow the laws, but the Mercykillers are far more aggressive. Any infraction is punishable by death. Understood?” he pauses for effect and looks at the group.

“We’ll be breaking laws, no doubt” he says, and smiles slightly at that. “Our friend Barauk has returned to the source of his power. The Great Foundry of the Godsmen. It was there some of the Stoneburner’s casing was forged and there the glowstones that empower him were made, in part. The Foundry itself makes everything imaginable, from weapons to magicked artillery but mainly they’re a massive black smithy. Pipes, ingots, wire, chain, eating utensils and so on.

The Foundry itself is a work camp of sorts. Petitioners who wish to join them must work in the foundry till they are sponsored for membership in the Godsmen. As for the Godsmen, they believe that through power, hard work or whatnot, they can ascend through the ranks and ascend into Godhood. Considering Barauk’s words about considering himself a God, he might find himself quite welcome there. The Godsmen are notorious for checking the progress of others on the way up, however. It is doubtful the Godsmen’s Factol, their leader, will want to sponsor Barauk over his own ambitions however.

At this point, that is all we know and can surmise. Our task be to retrieve him from ye ole Foundry. If needed, a detachment of Forgemark and Levtokuld from Barakbar will join us if we need to assault the Foundry. We shalt head to Sigil and reach out to a contact and plan from there.” Carmard says, and sets down his notebook.

“Questions?”

[loopy]

Johannes

Johannes speaks up from the back. "Should we be expecting any hostility from those that aren't affiliated with the Godsmen?"

[thorgrim29]

As was his habit, Thordrek had woken up about an hour before the gong, and had spent the extra time relaxing and cleansing himself in the baths. So, it is clean, alert, and with the comfortable and safe feeling of latent power buzzing in the back of his mind that he joins the rest for a very good meal.

During the night, his armor had been polished and repaired, and his new shield had been reworked to display his usual sigil, the symbol of the Levtokuld interwoven with the runes of the Torrun clan. He had procured a new arming jacket, his new rings shone on his fingers, and his beard and hair were newly braided. All in all, he cut a fine figure for one near death's doors less then a day before.

When he hears of the City of Doors, his eyes shine and he starts fidgeting in anticipation, but when the details start coming, and the sheer insanity of what the are going to do is made clear, he pales.

hum.... Normally, I'd be the first to want to visit Sigil, but isn't an invasion kind of suicidal? Besides, when, if, we find Barauk, what do we do? Do we put him back in the stoneburner and go back to the first plan? Do we kill him? And what about the army Glorian was leading?

[Katasi]

Arum listens to the plan, thinking carefully, considering anything that might be good to know. "Is there any chance of us finding allies or such in the city that might help us out in this? Or maybe people who just don't like the godsmen?" He asks.

[mshady]

Carmard listens to Thordek’s question and tips his head downward slightly as he returns the other dwarf’s look. His jaw works and his mouth twists sourly for a moment until his face returns to its natural statement of granite like calmness.

“Remember our Words, Levtokuld Torrun, ‘The one hope of the damned is to have no hope of anything good, anymore’. If a suicidal plan is required for Moradin’s tasks, than we shalt do so and leave our fate to the Father” Carmard says, his tone mildly reproachful.

“That principle accepted thusly, I would say you misjudge your orders. As we intend to recover the Stoneburner and thus must return with it, a suicidal plan is not in the plan. It is merely dangerous” he says. His hand makes a subtle wave to accent the point, emphasizing it as a trivial concern.

“Sigil is full of many factions. Each faction is fairly fractious. A faction that promises, and perhaps can deliver, Godhood would be fairly… competitive? There are… parallels to Drow houses in how Godsmen politics work. Consider Barauk’s goals and the power he demonstrably has? Not godlike, but impressive. Assuming he does not just… arrive and take over the Foundry itself by force, he will find allies among the opportunistic. He believes in his own path, but could assist others in exchange for assistance himself. As they last rank before Ascension, to them, is to become the Factol and await it the existing Factol may be an ally” Carmard says. He presses his palms together and then opens them much like a book.

“Any assault we bring would thus be part of a conflict within the faction that need not concern the other factions. Considering the great harm the Stoneburner could do, harboring it at all in the city would bring the ire of the Lady of Pain, the Overlord of Sigil. The Godsmen have every reason to keep this affair quiet. Thus I hope a small detachment, us, will be able to resolve the matter. Failing that, two centuries of Forgemark and supporting Arcanii will be made available. At the least. Once we have recovered the Stoneburner, we’re back to the original plan.

Recovering the Stoneburner itself will be difficult but not impossible. It has vulnerabilities, thus why we must guard it while it primes itself. A sufficient electrical shock can stun it. A field of anti-magic can disable it. After he is grounded, I need only insert a specific rod into its center, put it back in its trunk and be on our way. Simple plan, yes? As for the army Glorian is leading, they are still in the field. By this point, we have missed the update from Tolrin but I trust he will contact his retainer, Duervar. Moradin can imagine the reply he'll give.” Carmard says, finishing his speech with a sigh.

Next, he turns to Arum and takes his question, than shakes his head.

"Allies? No, but perhaps mercenaries. As I said lad, the Godsmen will be wanting to keep matters quiet I be think'n. Much depends on a contact we must meet. We'll know more when we get there"

[Katasi]

Arum thinks for a minute. "Well what about enemies of the godsmen? After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, for the time being." He rubs his chin. "Do the godsmen have any known blindspots or weakness? Also what do we know about our 'friend' Barauk that could help us slip past his notice?"

[Strangie]

"An assault, huh... if it comes down to that, do we know exactly what we're up against? I figure it's gonna get messy, yeah?" I mean I figure if the Foundry is where they make a whole lotta weapons, it's gonna be a battle of steel. But, eh..." Wyatt trails off and shrugs at the end of his sentence. He glances around at everybody around him - the dwarven clerics, the minotaurs, Jeth, and everybody else - hoping that everybody else in this group is as reliable as they seem.

"Looks like we joined in the middle of quite a rough operation... outta one firepit and into the next, heh."

[mshady]

Carmard shrugs in response to Wyatt's question.

"The Godsmen are... secretive in that regard. With enormous foundries at their disposal, we assume golems and some must be powerful mages to make them. Powerful weapons and the sturdiest armors. In what quantities? Limited. The purpose o'the foundries is the toil, nay the product. Their guards are capable and outfitted to deter the denizens of the area though. The Great Foundry itself is full of thousands of supplicants as well" Carmard says, and shrugs once again. This seems to be a common mannerism of grim acceptance for him.

"An assault by main force would be very contested, and very, very bloody" he pronounces with solemnity. "That cost is not a bar to paying it, however dearly we must. The resolve to pay that price may intimidate them. They just have to think we will do it. Like how Tolrin threatened to take over Hundlestone unless they cooperated." Carmard says, and smiles slightly.

"The Godsmen have had limited actual contact with us. Initially with the Patriarch on his travels, and himself in impressive company. As Chosen of Moradin, such a meeting would be most... impressive to them, considering their beliefs. Afterwards with Glorian as the Patriarchal Legate on the matter and on at least one occasion the Watcher, Buelyir Granvil. Considering the impression that Glorian also leaves, they are at least respectful of our power. Granvil hopefully left them with further caution about what they do not know of us" Carmard says, smiling slightly with the revealation.

"So, the actual plan is?" Buna inquiries, her square jaw resting on her palm.

"Uncertain for now. We go, we see what happens. Should we arrive aggrieved about this matter, I expect it to be denied. An internal matter. Once they cannot deny it, we ally with whatever faction is trying to resolve the "internal matter". Considering that Barauk could destroy the Great Foundry with ease in a fit of temper, they will probably just give him what he wants and hope he leaves. We just have to break the deadlock and turn their fearsome weapons against Barauk's supporters. We may have to do very little in the conflict at that point. Or so I surmise"

Carmard adjusts his spectacles and cracks a smile and looks at the rest of the group.

"Sometimes ye have to start a fight though before ye can figure out how to win it. Carmard laughs at this own statement before returning to his stoic composure.

"Any other questions?"

"Aye. How do I get outta this buggered up outfit?" Buna says, smirking. Both Arcanii laugh at the remark.

[Melody]

Sable leans back in her chair as she listens intently to Carmard's description of the foundry and Sigil. As he mentions golems she speaks quietly as if to herself.

Ticking..

She wipes her suddenly sweaty palms against her pants.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum listens as Carmand describes the Foundry and the situation and the conversation comes to a close Magnum joins in the laughter and says, "Now if there is one thing I'm knowin' something about, it starting a fight. You can figure the rest out."

[mshady]

Looking around, Carmard waits for more questions but hears none. Nodding to the group, he closes his journal and quietly packs it back into his bulging satchel and pushes it aside. He clears his throat and looks down for a moment, than back up.

“If that be all, let’s b’about it. I caution ye all to be VERY careful who ye talk to or what ye say. Ye might provoke someone and ye won’t sound like yer from around there. Ye don’t act lost or in awe either. Tis like fear to a predator. Stay together and be careful what ye do. Ye nay understand the laws there and many be punishable by death. Ye run afoul o’them, we’re nay going to endanger this task to save ye and provoke the Harmonium or Mercykillers. Don’t trust any guides, either. If ye kill anyone or thing, hide the bodies. Look to Sable, Buna or I ‘or any questions on street smarts. Also… we have two cycles to get there, get back to unleash hell with the Stoneburner. Glorian’s attack is NOT waiting on us. Get geared up. We depart in half an hour. Moradin’s blessing be upon us. That be all”

Taking a deep breath again, Carmard nods to the group collectively and walks off to a separate table where his gear has been laid out carefully. Buna moves over towards him rather immediately and the two Arcanii assist each other donning their arming jackets and armor while quietly conversing. Buna has a serious, concerned look on her face as they talk. Two enormous backpack frames sit on the table as well holding a black metal container. Only the minotaurs could carry them comfortably. What looks like a battering ram sits on the table as well.

OOC: We’re moving out shortly, so if there’s anything else you want to say or do in Faitholme, now’s your chance.

[Katasi]

Arum tries to remember everything he knows about Sigil or the Godsmen.

1d20+10

[Katasi]

Arum tries to remember everything he knows about Sigil or the Godsmen.

1d20+10

[stupid forum]

[Katasi]

Arum tries to remember everything he knows about Sigil or the Godsmen.

1d20+10

[stupid forum]

[King Tius]

Nalrak

The big guy is all ready to roll. He flexes his new gauntlets, hoists his Magma Hammer, and nods. He follows behind Carmand and waits for the magic to start happening. Again.

[mshady]

On our OOC message board, I have posted some dwarven phrases. I'll be adding some more there as I go along. Just a thought! I found those and found them very interesting!

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=60703

[Katasi]

Arum tries to remember everything he knows about Sigil or the Godsmen.

1d20+10

[stupid forum, one last try, here's hoping]

[thorgrim29]

((Hey everybody! It's "make random knowledge checks" time))

history:[roll0]

Arcana: [roll1]


religion (lady of pain maybe??):[roll2]


the planes: [roll3]


Other then that, ready to go.

[Katasi]

maybe this'll work now:

[roll0]

[Strangie]

(OOC: Man. A lot of those rolls are terrible, haha. Hopefully I don't suffer a similar curse.)

"Don't talk to anybody and keep my head outta the clouds while we're there, huh. Easy enough - I don't usually like talkin' to people anyway and I'm short enough to stay outta the clouds. Heh..."

Wyatt doesn't wander far, finding a seat somewhere off to the side. Figuring he might end up dealing with plenty of mechanics in a place such as the foundries, as well, he breaks out an expertly-made trap-disabling kit. He twirls the loop on which several tools hang, grabbing a tool at random and muttering what it does to himself as some sort of memory test, feeling along the ridges with a finger and nodding to ascertain himself before moving on to the next. The thing is that he's doing this with his eyes closed and seems to know which tool is what and the function of it simply by feeling it.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Guess I'll get in on the random rolls wagon.

1d20+7

Otherwise, I'm ready to go.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Hmmm, let's try this format...

[roll0]
edit: Ok, whatever, i'll play along with the boards little game.

Guess I'll leave it up to the DM to roll it for me.

[ArmanMadero]

Arman was up when Carmard called for everyone to eat and fill their stomachs. The smell of the real food was good to Arman, and made him forget for a bit that he was starting to miss home.

After everyone was near finishing breakfast, Carmard told them all to get everything together and to listen. Arman listened while he grabbed a couple loaves of bread and some cheese from the table, wrapping them in a bit of linen from a basket and placing it in his pack. He hoped that the dwarves wouldn't mind him taking it.

He listened while Carmard explained the mission, and Arman hoped that the spells he prepared woudn't be needed. He wondered how small an infraction would have to be to get the death penalty. He wasn't going to find out if he could help it. It brought other worries to his mind, but he could deal with those if they came up. He was also wondering who the contact was for Carmard, but wasn't goig to ask. More than likely he would get the Carmard Stare, as Arman thought of it now, and no answer would be forthcoming. He tried to remember what he could about Sigil.

Knowledge Planes Check on Sigil [roll0]

I would have to say... that is the first time the rolls worked for me....

[mshady]

Carmard and Buna discuss matters briefly and she nods in agreement to something as the two check each other’s fine banded mail armors. They both in turn grasp the other’s armor and shake it, making any final adjustments to make sure it is fitted properly. Carmard’s mood seems very stiff now, while Buna seems far more relaxed but her disposition seems to have no effect on her superior. With a wave of the hand, he motions the two massive minotaurs over and they stomp over in his direction.

“Kerik, Gore… there is something else ye must carry for us. These two packs I have for ye to bear for us. I regret that ye must porter the casing as well, but ye two are stronger ‘han any dwarf so we must ask ye to carry both loads” Carmard says and looks up at the towering mercenary with unblinking eyes. Kerik’s only reply is to glance at the oversized packs and snort contemptuously.

“Ye mistake the Turrock Herd for mule or oxen, Arcanii. Bear yer own loads, we have our own” Kerik says in his rumbling voice and broken speech. Carmard gives the Minotaur a half smile and nods in understanding.

“I’d not insult ye by asking out o’generosity, bull. I’d warn ye nay to forget the Patriarchate’s generosity in raising ye up though” Carmard says. He continues to hold the minotaur’s gaze and takes a step towards the enormous mercenary, which meets with a scowl from Kerik but he nonetheless holds his ground. Carmard stands no higher than the minotaur’s abdomen.

“Careful, stumpy” Kerik growls.

“Aye, ye told me that before” Carmard says and shrugs once again. Carry the packs for me. Ye get the weight of one pack in silver. I warn ye, they be hefty. There be much glory for ye as well”

Kerik grunts and motions for Gore to check the packs. The younger mercenary clomps over there and checks the pack, straining to lift it before setting it back down with a thump. Kerik nods at Carmard.

“Bargained and be done. We carry them” Kerik mutters and heads over to collect his own pack. The two bulls converse for a moment and shoulder the loads. They seem to strain under the burden, but once it is shouldered they seem more or less unbothered. Clearly they would have a problem if knocked over, though.

Buna takes Carmard aside, towards the table where the rest of the party is preparing and packing away food for themselves.

“Carmard, ye should be careful o that one” Buna says and glances towards the minotaurs. “He work for Glorian. He nay respects ye ‘cause yer not like her. Ye think he’d ever talk back to her?” Buna says and utters a bark of laughter at the thought.

Carmard sighs and pats Buna on the shoulder.

“Yer point has nay escaped me. He will. Nay trouble yerself over it, lass”

Buna shrugs and walks off to finish her preparations. Carmard nods at her as she walks off and turns to the group. He bangs his gauntleted hand against the table to get everyone’s attention.

“Make yerselves ready. We’re leav’n” Carmard announces.

[mshady]

With the group fully prepared, they begin the long march across Faitholme for several miles across the crystalline chamber. The floor of the main chamber is a mosaic of crystals, but the primary color is a very dark green; nearly blue even.

There is little talking in the group as they march. The two minotaurs trail behind. They do not appear overly burdened by their loads but keeping themselves apart from the group. Walking past the quarters of the Fiendslayer, the dwarf and his retainers watch from along the wall with a drink in their hands at the small procession. He waves first to Thordek and then to Kerik as they pass by. They look almost disappointed not to be going as they continue their long and stubborn wait.

After an hour, the group arrives at the other end of Faitholme to find a large, vaulted door that stands 20 feet high and just as wide. Buna and Carmard work the wheels on the vault to remove two massive deadbolts from it. After a couple minutes of strenuous exercise, the huge bolts to the vault recede and Carmard swings the door open. They make a distinctive tick-tick-tick noise with each spin of the wheels. It swings easily, a testament to its craftsmanship and the how well balanced the door actually is. The door itself is several feet of thick metal and has a casing of black adamantine.

The vault door opens up into a spherical room with a stone circle against the back wall. Too anyone even vaguely familiar with magic, this is clearly a portal. It appears ancient with a kind of green moss growing over the white and gray stone. A tapestry with the holy symbol of Moradin and another of Dugmaren, the dwarven God of knowledge and innovations hang on the right and left of the portal. Oddly enough, it glows slightly and provides the only illumination in the room until Buna steps over to the corner and climbs a small ladder. Striking a tinder twig, she drops it into a small gutter. It does not actually ignite anything, but the magic of the ever burning torches blazes too life. The room is illuminated in a soft red glow now.

Before the portal stands a simple stone dais with a hole in the center of it. Carmard approaches it with great reverence and pulls a small tube out of his satchel. He opens the tube and withdraws a thick rod of crystal that is etched in softly glowing runes.

“That be the portal key he’s using” Buna announces by way of commentary on Carmard’s silent actions. “The key he uses will open the portal to a ‘articular spot. There be few portals directly to Sigil and none when this place was made, nor do we fully ‘nderstand the magic here to try differently. So we ‘ave to go to ‘nother Plane and use a portal there. Tis will be short lay over, I assure ye” Buna says. She appears a bit chipper again, even excited at the prospect of travel.

Carmard finishes seating the crystal in dais and places a hand on it, focusing his will on the crystal to activate it. He is rewarded by a throaty growl from the portal as it swirls to life with enough power to leave everyone tingling once again. The slow thrumming of the portal is accompanied by a harmonic hum of power that sounds like distant bells.

“Well… let’s be about it” Carmard says. He motions for the group to follow him and strides straight into the portal and disappears without any further word.

“Aye, let’s get going. He never did say which Plane we be goin’ to first though…” Buna says. She shrugs and adjusts her hat before setting her jaw and walking into the portal herself.

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum, eager to see what lays ahead, marches quickly through the portal with his hand firmly on the haft of his new waraxe.

[Katasi]

Arum draws his rapier and urges Baraus forward through the portal. "Don't worry,these are safe." He says to the badger as it begins to become frightened by the portal he is entering.

[thorgrim29]

wide eyed, Thordrek steps into the portal.

[Strangie]

Wyatt quickly makes his way to almost the front of the group, stepping in behind Carmard as he jogs into the portal. He keeps his senses sharp, used to taking point of whatever group he's been assigned to.

He glances behind him a few times quickly and briefly just to make sure one of the minotaurs isn't going to step on his head, of course.

[King Tius]

Muttering a quick prayer under his breath, Nalrak falls in line and jogs into the awaiting portal

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Near the end of the pack Kelith takes one last look around him before plunging into the portal; not knowing when the next time he would place his feet back on this plane.

[mshady]

The group proceeds through Faithholme’s magnificent portal one at a time and arrive… somewhere else.

Everyone who steps through is greeted with the sound of sand and fine black gravel crunching under their feet. The coolness of Faitholme is replaced with a far more balmy temperature, making most feel flush from the sudden heat and stifling humidity, in contradiction to the desert around it. The area is relatively flat, but there is the most unusual sensation. Of spinning? Looking upwards, there is no sky as any would know it.

Instead there is a slowly shifting kaleidoscope of color, shifting from purple to red and blue. As eyes move downward and establish a frame of reference, the odd sensation begins to make sense. The ground they are on is spinning at an appreciable rate, with the kaleidoscope moving clockwise. The odd purple light that dominates the “sky” bathes the area in light. Some skeletons of undetermined origin lay about the ground, broken into fragments. A small herd of something that looks like a hairless deep rothe seem to be grazing. Upon closer examination, they appear to be grazing on the pebbles and sand itself.

Carmard and Buna stand next to each other on the other side of the portal to greet everyone as they enter the unusual and disconcerting location. He seems unbothered by the location; indeed he seems to be suppressing what passes as a grin from Carmard at any who seem bothered. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and places his hands on a pistol and his short sword and looks at the group.

“Welcome ye to our own little scrap of Pandemonium, tis an island in the sea o’chaos. Tis not quite the full experience, but we’ll take what we can find” he says and shrugs, more with his bushy eyebrows than anything else. “Tis not our regular trail to Sigil as we come in too large a group. We ‘ave a walk a few miles from ‘ere to a small portal town. Never any tell’n what the reception is as the population move in and out all the time” Carmard says, and shrugs.

“We’ll scout it out ‘fore we enter. We can either walk in, buy our way in with our field chest, intimidate or take it by main force. Most o’these places are lawless and we lack the time for anvil dropp’n niceties ‘bout things. Some things out ‘ere might take “nice” as o’sign o’disrespect, so just play it by ear but we’re nay here for a fight. Johannes, Sable and Wyatt will be the recon and establish contact. The rest o’us will take cover ‘long the drumlins outside the shanty town. Take a few and gather yer wits about ye and we’ll be off.”

With that, Carmard walks over to a rock and sits down. He rubs the bridge of his nose a few times with his gauntleted hand before beckoning Wyatt, Sable and Johannes over. Anyone else is welcome to listen though. When they arrive, he nods to them and pulls a water skin from his belt and takes a draught and wipes his hand across his face. Some of the moisture is on his beard, which he notices after a moment and brushes away.

“So… ye three are goin’ to head into town. Just walk on in really. No one really asks where ye came from in these ‘ere parts. Problem ‘ith places like this is whomever’s got the muscle likes to play the durn troll under the bridge with the portal. Now I nay mind paying the toll, but they’re just as like to rob ye as let ye pass. If ye have the scratch to pay the toll, yer probably worth robbing, aye? Last we knew as o’a few months ago, the portal was held by some priests o’Shaundakul and it was more tithe than toll. If they still ‘e in charge, arrange passage. If not, see who is. If they be the type for beldarak, treachery in dwarf, and will ambush us, I’d just as soon sneak the rest o’us in and do it first. Or maybe someone does it quiet like” Carmard says and shrugs, than winks at Sable.

“How we proceed ‘ith that is yer call, Sable but I’d reckon no fights here’d be best. Small fights ‘n public turn to big fights, and a big fight ‘ith those bulls in a town would be… bad. Johannes be the scholar and linguist, so ye may have to translate 'nd look for anything... odd. See what the “chant” is in this backwater. Wyatt, ye just nose around and see what ye can find. If it looks sour, I’d like ye to get an eye on what’s in that town. Don’t linger too long there, an hour at the most, eh? When ye three are ready, head out past that cattle for ‘bout five miles. Town’s in a depression, why ye won’t see it from ‘ere. The town be called Way Ward, last I knew… So, any questions?”

[Katasi]

Arum speaks up. "Perhaps if we do need to fight it could be arranged to take whoever is in charge out quickly and quietly, then slip through the portal in the chaos that ensues."

[loopy]

"Nay, there'll be no problem, Carmard." Johannes remarks in Dwarvish, nodding. Switching to common, he continues. "Scout ahead, do some talking, if they seem the type to threaten, come back and prepare a proper beating. Is there anything I've missed?" Johannes clasps his hands together. "No? Lets be off then."

Once Sable and Wyatt turn to follow, Johannes sets off toward the town. Still feel a mite... faster than normal. Its truly strange.

[Melody]

I suppose we'll all be going in openly at first. Sable shifts her pack a bit and loosens her rapier in it's sheath as she starts walking towards Way Ward. I mean, it's less likely to be trouble if they see that there's three of us. Bullies prefer weak targets after all. She straps some throwing knives to her forearms, giving her the look of someone if not bristling with weapons, certainly on the verge of doing so. Her posture becomes somewhat tense as she scans back and forth. Flashing a smile she looks at her companions. Do I look bodyguardish enough? I figure you talk Johannes and Wyatt and I try to look tough. Keep it to monosyllables if at all possible, we don't want to look like we don't know what we're doing. Hmm, Wyatt, can you look tough? Not to be rude or anything, but you're terminally cheerful most of the time. Maybe if it gets tight you can stare and smile really big while you fondle a weapon. That always unsettles people.

[mshady]

Carmard nods to Arum.

"Aye, if we must but tis nay an honorable path for a dwarf to take. We be as honorable as practical, though..." Carmard says and scratches his chin. He does not look all that happy about the reality of the matter.

"Travel 'cross the Planes to see a shanty village" Carmard says and chuckles slightly. "Not much sense travelling when ye see all ye need at home, save duty to Moradin requiring such. Wherever ye go, people live 'bout the same. No matter. If them three kick up some dust, we head on in. Praise to Moradin though, nuth'n truly powerful would waste its time stay'n here. Old saying I 'eard from those Ironfist lads... Big bears nay stay in small caves. Dumathion'll see though, I reckon" Carmard shrugs. "What do ye think, Buna?"

Buna looks at him with a sense of exasperation and constrenation.

"I think yer wast'n time we don't have with yer caution. Just go in and lets get out, eh? Be done with it"

Carmard shakes his head, although its a minimal gesture.

"Aye, 'nd that worked out so well last time" he says, his tone chiding. Buna harumphs and has a seat as well for a minute, acclimatizing herself to the environment.

[Strangie]

Wyatt nods, giving Carmard a quick salute before trotting off with his two companions. He folds his arms, and looks up at Sable at the remarks.

"You're askin' a man who is about three and a half feet tall, who carries a 'dwarven baby rattle', as someone put it, to look intimidatin'? I ain't very good at that sorta thing. I'm good at NOT bein' intimidated, at least? What I'm really good at, though, is not being seen. Oh, and clubbin' someone. I'm good at that. Oh! And breakin' traps. And... seein' stuff... But, hey, you're the boss, I'll try my best."

Wyatt shrugs, tilting his head down a bit so his hair falls over his eyes slightly, replacing his usual confident smirk with a serious, slightly-frowning face.

"Okay. 's all business now. Let's do this."

[thorgrim29]

Pandemonium eh? I get the feeling dwarves are not the most welcome here, what with being associated to Order....

Thordrek gazes around, and above, as they walk, and mutters to himself in dwarven. Then, he asks Carmard or Buna (the closest one to him)

Any prohibition on taking some of the "sand" with us? Chaos sand could come in handy if we run into more devils, and knowing my luck, I'm sure we will, you don't get 2 without a third, my pa used to say....

He chuckles a bit, then focuses as the near the shanty town

[mshady]

Buna looks at Thordek and than down at the sand and back up to Thordek with a look of astonishment.

"Um..." is all she manages at first. "Yer gonna do what with the sand if'n we run into a demon? Throw it inn their durn eyes? Oh... well, suppose that might do somethin' for a moment. Take what ye want. Maybe ye can find an alchemist 'o do somethin' with it. Oi and aye, dwarves may not be too liked here but there's order and there be Order in a planar sense, which we aren't. Well..." she casts an eye back at Carmard with a conspiratorial glint. "Maybe him. Not me though!" she says, with a smirk.

"I heard that, lass" Carmard says. Buna only smirks again.

"Go get yer sand and move out. While 'his is Pandemonium, tis not the full thing. Kinda fell out, split off or whatnot. We think it used to be someone's little demi-plane, like Faitholme is? For all we know, they still be here. I doubt that. Why Faitholme had a portal key for 'ere isn't really known either. Much to learn. Not why we're here. Odd place fer our ancestors to forge a link with... Enough jaw'n though, get yer sand scratch'n over with and hussle!" Buna says and walks off to the front of the forming column.

[mshady]

Overwatch at Way Ward

Sable, Johannes and Wyatt split off from the group and make the long and dusty trek to Way Ward. The clinging humidity and shifting colors of the sky are a sharp contrast to the arid soil. They pass the freakish looking cattle as they graze on the… sand. It’s hard not to look at the gentle but odd creatures. They have wild looking red eyes that stand in sharp contrast to their docility. Perhaps an indication of a demonic taint? Obviously a hardy creature, it does seem an answer to a question no one would really think of asking. What do they eat on other Planes? As the group walks by, one of them snorts as Wyatt passes a touch too close and it seems angered at his presence. Not as docile as it seemed…

After over an hour of walking, the trio arrive just outside of Way Ward and look at it from behind a slight ridge to avoid being seen. More aptly, they are standing over it. Inside a valley that looks more like a crater that opens up into a wider series of valleys sits the village. Shanty town would be a more apt description. Slapped together adobe dwellings standing atop are strewn about in no particular pattern. They’re clearly built cheap and fast, with the population stacked atop each other. Some of the tenements are leaning and held in place by braces. One can imagine the rent there is discounted…

From a distance, it is hard to see any particulars of the location besides the buildings blocking the view. No visible portal or such. There are quite a few denizens of one type or another walking around the bustling town. It’s hard to tell who is armed and who is not…

There are two visible approaches to the town. A trail goes down from around their current position, but it is barely used and everyone in the town who bothered to look up would see their approach. The other approach is to loop around from their current position and enter the valley and approach the town that way. That seems to be the primary path, as evidenced by a pair of those strange oxen pulling a wagon, but it would take another hour to loop around and would mean the rest of the party in over watch around the town would be unable to observe them in the valley.

Which path?

[thorgrim29]

Yes mam'm.... The way I figure it, either I find an alchemist to do something with it, either I sell it to a wizard, some of them are always looking for odd spell components and stuff to strengthen their summoning circles.... Anywho.

He fills his old backpack with the "sand", and then stuff the bag in a pocket of his new pack, were it shouldn't have fitted.

[King Tius]

Nalrak

Nalrak trots ahead to walk with Bruna. "I agree with you. We should just drive straight into town and take the portal. We're likely a larger group than whatever is guarding it anyways. I'm worried our scouts will get taken before we can move in to help them." Nalrak scowls as he tries to look ahead and see the scouting group moving off.

[Katasi]

Arum says to Thordek as they watch the three leave. "I'm an experianced alchemist. I could do something with it if you would like."

[ArmanMadero]

Arman walked through the portal, and stepped through to a place that he was... uncomfortable... in. The sky and ground seemed to move in opposite directions, and it took him a moment to sort everything out where he wasn't getting dizzy.

Sable, Johannes, and Wyatt were all sent to scout a small village, and the rest of them were ti wait at the drumlins, whatever those were. Like Thordek, Arman was looking at the black sand with interest and picked some up in his hand, letting it fall back. He watched it fall with wonder, as it kind of swirled on its way down... or seemed to. He wasn't sure which was moving more, the ground, or the sky, and it caused everything else to seem to move in unnatural ways.

He settled for finding an empty vial and filled it with some of the stuff, placing it in his pack. Thordek was right on that count. You never knew when it could come in handy. He wondered how it would affect a sleep spell, if it would at all.

Soon they were moving out, and Arman watched the almost featureless landscape as they walked. Everynow and then he would glance at the Rothé, at least thats what he hoped they were, and wonder. They were hairless, which made them look even stranger than they normally did. Soon Arman paid no attention, as they drew nearer the village in the crater. He wasn't sure if he would call it a village, but he wasn't Toril anymore either. Village would have to suffice. He could see Sable, Johannes and Wyatt a ways in the distance, and prayed that everything would go well.

[mshady]

The rest of the party splits away from the trio heading into town to take up an over watch position on the village. The walk is harder than one might expect as the sand compresses under their feet of the heavily armored dwarfs, making it both exhausting and an invitation for twisting their ankles. Sand is not that fun to march on over long distances, especially for short legged dwarfs.

Arum’s armored badger seems to have the least trouble and he paces the group easily. The oddness of the environment seems to unnerve the badger, who is even more irritable than normal. Keeping it distant from the rest of the party is probably a good measure for safety. Jeth trails the group, staying behind the badger but on the same side. He sits atop his bear. The badger does snarl at the group of hairless rothe as the group passes. The creatures had been chewing on the gravel, making a disturbing crack and crunch sound with each bite. They stop and shuffle together and watch the group as they pass. One defecates on the ground as the group watches, leaving a lump of… sand. Is that where all the sand here came from? Buna laughs as that thought occurs to her and she jokingly refers to them as “stone eaters”.

When they approach Way Ward, the terrain turns into a broken series of drumlins; a kind of terrain broken into a series of small parallel gullies that can hide movement. Trails have been broken across the various drumlins with picks at various points to allow movement between the ridges. The group picks its way through the terrain, periodically halting so Buna can clamor up the sides to judge their location and approach to the village.

They finally break out of the drumlins on the edge of the valley where Way Ward sits. There is a drop of several hundred feet to the ground below. It is not quite vertical, but it is certainly steep. The town itself is in a profoundly indefensible position and no one has bothered to construct a wall or palisade around it. The town is full of ramshackle adobe buildings with a philosophy of “build’em cheap and stack’em high”. More than a couple buildings have been gutted by fire or sit in a heap of rubble; hopefully unoccupied. While not exactly bustling, humanoid figures of some race and gender move about the town. It is hard to make anyone out from here. Clearly, the group is too far out of position to provide anything approaching rapid support for Sable, Wyatt and Johannes; moral support would have to suffice.

Carmard lays behind cover and withdraws a finely crafted spy glass and taps it in his hand for a moment before crawling up the loose sand and gravel. He lays on his belly and looks through the glass at the town for a long time. He seems to be evaluating the town by section, his spy glass making miniscule movements as it sweeps around. Buna soon joins him, watching the valley instead. A wagon drawn by some oxen looking creatures is entering town. The wagon is covered in cloth, making it impossible to see its cargo, but it hardly seems fully loaded. When he finishes his sweep, Carmard slides back down into the little ravine and leans against it, facing the group. Buna soon joins him.

“Village ‘s still occupied. Looks the same as last I be seein’ it. Noth’n too unusual. Looks… quiet” he says, and shrugs.

“Aye, but that ain’t a quiet town is it, boss?” Buna says, smirking when she says ‘boss’. Carmard appears mildly irritated at that cognomen, but says nothing. He nods in agreement, however.

“Buna, I want ye to keep an eye on the town. Lemme know when the scouts enter town. The rest o’ye, I want to check the area ‘round our position. Only Dumathion knows what else be livin’ up here, but it’d be a good place for someth’n and I’d be an unbearded strapling nay to check. Ideas on how to proceed? Nay familar with what ye all can do.”

Carmard turns to the druid, Jeth and looks at him for a long moment. The druid shifts uncomfortably under the dwarf’s gaze until Carmard speaks. He has a look of someone trying to figure out what to do with a tool he’s never seen before. His eyes seem to ask a question: what do I do with you? Druids and dwarves are not two groups that often work together.

“Druid. Ye can shift into animal forms, aye? Can ye become a bird? If’n so, I’d like ye to soar above and watch these ridges. Too easy for someth’n to sneak up on us. After that, I’d like ye to fly over the town and yon valley. See what ye see. If ye can do that”

[bchilders]

Magnum

Magnum, happy to have an order to do something instead of just sitting around waiting, starts making circuits around their position actually hoping to run into something to get his first real test of his new axes abilities.

Spot:1d20+3
Listen:1d20+3

edit: missed a bracket..if you want the rolls let me know and I'll do them again or you can just roll them yourself

[Melody]

((ooc: Came back to see responses to my post and realized, it didn't post! Sorry about the delay!))

Sable looks at Wyatt. Well, there's more than one way to scout. Right now I figure we'll take the direct route and be seen. We keep one step behind Johannes on either side. Lets people know who's in charge. Now honest people will be keeping their eyes mostly on him. People who want to start trouble will be looking at us sizing us up so to speak.

She smiles slightly. No short joke intended. Keep your eyes and ears open, especially if you see anyone paying too much attention to us. We act like we belong and people are less likely to try to mess with us. Wyatt, if you see trouble flick two fingers towards it to give me a heads up. I'll do the same. Johannes, when we get there just say portal to Sigil. Somebody should start talking at that point. Beyond that we'll play it by ear. Let's get moving.

[Strangie]

"Heh. Wouldn't be the first time. Short jokes don't bother me. Anyways, yeah, I got it," the short man replies. "They'll think twice before messin' with us. ... I hope."

[thorgrim29]

After making sure his weapons are easily reachable, Thordrek moves out and looks around, not staying too far from the group or too close to the town.

[Katasi]

When Carmand asks the druid about turning into a bird, it gives Arum an idea. He sends Skree off of his perch on the badger and has the hawk fly overhead of the three headed into town, then circle high over the town looking for signs of danger, hopefully high enough up not to be seen.

[Tharar_Greenleaf]

Kelith

Kelith will watch as the others head out to scout around and then decide on a course not yet taken by the rest of them, before readying his chain and moving out.

{{It seems the myth-weavers site will be down until Wed, just a heads up for those that use it}}

[mshady]

With Johannes and Wyatt agreeing with Sable, the trio begin to make their approach down the valley wall on a path that only goats would dare. Of the three, Sable has the most difficult time as the tallest and is saved from a possible tumble by Johannes. The path is worse than they expected, but it is evidently travelled. It opens up into a second path that parallels the valley wall and leads up and has the distinct look of an animal path. No herds or herders are on it today, however.

When they reach the bottom, they stop and catch their breath for a moment from the hard decent. It's clear they will not have any support although Sable's eyes catch something circling high above. A familar looking hawk that Sable and the others had seen Arum the gnome produce from time to time, presumably his familar.

Ready, the three walk towards Way Ward now. As they head up the path, they can feel the eyes of the denizens of the town on them but there does not seem to be a sense of alarm at all. As they get closer, Sable can see many of the humanoids she seen walking around are humanoid but clearly not human. They get a better look at them as they enter the village properly.

Some sport horns or other fiendish signs; some have horns, red eyes, sharp teeth or even a tail. There's no pattern to it particularly, and it marks them as tieflings. The others are bald and with pale skin with wiry frames with intense eyes. Most have a scimitar on their side or a falchion on their back, but they are otherwise not armored like soldiers or adorned like mages. All appear to be going about their daily business, some carrying loads. A crew of thickly muscled humanoid looking men, tall and powerful with brown, scaly skin work on constructing an adobe tenament.

It does not take long before they finally see an armed presence, however. Three armored humanoids dressed in red plate mail turn on to the same street as the trio. They carry halberds with a very large beard on the axe of near ridiculous proportions and a gleaming spike atop the weapon. Anyone in their path immediately clears the way for them, some fearfully. On the opposite side of the road as Sable, Wyatt and Johannes, they do not have to worry about getting out of their way but the finely equipped trio draw their attention. All three guards look at them suspiciously. First at Johannes, than Sable and Wyatt more intently. Satisfied, they continue their march...

What to do now?

[Strangie]

"Watch your step there," Wyatt mutters on their way down. "It's a long and painful way down..."

Once there, as the three in plate mail eye them with suspicion, Wyatt takes it in stride, sticking behind their leader. He says nothing and doesn't make eye contact, as difficult as that is.

He almost hopes that they try to start something so he has something to test his new weapon on but stays mindful of the mission at hand and pushes the thought aside for now.

[Melody]

Sable speaks in an undertone. Red armor, any idea who those guys are? They look like the guys in charge around here at any rate. She drums her fingers on her leg a moment. Right, we can either go to them or some random half breed devil hoping that we'll be pointed in the right direction instead of being robbed. She looks at Johannes and Wyatt to see if they have a clue as to the identity of the red clad soldiers. I'm leaning towards the soldiers myself, any suggestions gentlemen?

[Strangie]

"No idea," Wyatt says in a low voice. "Look how other people scatter at their presence, though. Talkin' to them may not be in our best interest if they've got a reputation like that. Might not have an option at this point though, if they're already lookin' at us. Maybe we should just keep walkin'..."

[Melody]

Well they look like the ones in charge. I'm figuring the ones in charge control the portal. We're after the portal we'll probably be dealing with them, but lets look around a little more. Never hurts to get more information first. Well, it rarely hurts anyway. Lead on Johannes.