[3.5E] Heretic's Bane - Barakbar Group

[mshady]

Heretic's Bane - Barakbar Group

Chiefwaha – Carmard – Dwarven Sorcerer
Nexus R.C. Mina – Dreka Stoneshadow – Duergar Rogue
Yeygresh – Unknown – Dwarven Cleric

Delzoun was once a great shield dwarf empire, perhaps the greatest after ancient Deep Shanatar. Their strongholds filled the Underdark and a few of them even rose to the surface. During the ancient times, Delzoun and the Netherese had been both allies and neighbors. The Delzoun dwarves sent exotic metals and fine armaments to the voracious Netherese out of the dwarven port city of Ascore. In exchange, the Netherese used their magic to improve dwarven civilization with all manner of wonders. One of the greatest remaining products of Netherese aid is the Low Road that crisscrossed the Fardrimm and united Delzoun.

One of the smaller Delzoun strongholds in the Underdark was Citadel Barakbarr, meaning Shield City as it guarded the Empire’s southwestern flank. Geographically isolated from the rest of the Empire, it was much more a fortress than a city. Towards the end of both Netheril and Delzoun, both were increasingly hard pressed by their enemies. While the Netherese could defend themselves against Phaerimm in combat with their powerful magic, the Delzoun had comparatively little magic and were nearly defenseless against the Phaerimm. Seeking to conduct research against the phaerimm far from their enemies, the Netherese enclave of Opus sought a location far removed from their phaerimm enemies and asked their Delzoun allies for use of one of their Citadels. In exchange, Opus established a mythallar and shared spells with the rare dwarven wizards while helping to train more of them to defend against phaerimm attacks. Indeed, Barakbarr would become Delzoun’s center for arcane study second only to Ascore. With the mythallar allowing for powerful wards and magic weapons within its radius, the Netherese also created a hub of portals linking Barakbarr to other Enclaves and some other locations similar to Ascore. The already isolated citadel now became impregnable.

When Karsus slew Mystryl in -339, the Netherese quite literally fell. Delzoun lost its most important ally and its final decline began shortly thereafter. Refugees from Low Netheril fled to dwarven territory and beyond in the aftermath, establishing some of the first human settlements. The remaining Opus Netherese in Barakbarr who had not already left before Netheril fell disappeared shortly before the actual fall. Without the Netherese, the dwarves of Barakbarr were unable to maintain the portal network themselves. As a safeguard against others using the portals if captured, they required constant maintenance by the Netherese. The mythallar soon faltered as well, providing the most limited abilities. Still enormously dangerous, the dwarves of Barakbarr sealed it in a chamber.

Without the portals and the increasing isolation of the Delzoun citadels from one another due to constant warfare in the Underdark, Axelord Besander XII established a surface trading post in -334 DR or face starvation. Known as Besander’s Blockhouse, it is the site of modern Everlund in the Silver Marches.
The fortified trading post sat at the head of the Rauvin River and some civilization grew around it, mainly refugees from Low Netheril. Few suspected Citadel Barakbarr lay below the surface outside of the dwarves. Even the surface became too hostile as the region was flooded with orcs and other monsters from the Spine of the World. Hardly comparing to Citadel Adbar or Sundabar, the dwarves abandoned Besander’s Blockhouse and returned underground in -104 DR. With Delzoun Empire falling in -100 DR, any who knew of the dwarves of Besander’s Blockhouse assumed they died along with the rest of Delzoun. In actuality, they survived until -98 DR when their Netherese magic finally attracted the attention of the Phaerimm. Having barely survived that threat, the drow and their slave armies finally sacked Citadel Barakbarr and sacrificed its inhabitants to Lloth in a temple to Moradin, starting with Axelord Besander XII.

Like much of the Fardrimm and the old Delzoun strongholds, it was largely abandoned for almost two millennia with the occasional monstrous tribes or other residents taking refuge there. Outside of the plundering by the Drow, it remained largely untouched. In 1368, Citadel Barakbarr was finally tracked down by the Forgemark of Moradin, a Brotherhood of dwarves. A treasure trove of unusual magic, books and other Delzoun and Netherese artifacts, it became their base of operations until the establishment of the Jilker Patriarchate in Icewind Dale. The Patriarchate now use it as a training ground for its war mages and a storehouse for accumulated lore books and magic. It is also used to launch expeditions into the Underdark. While a significant stronghold, its actual population does not exceed the size of a large town today but it is expanding. Negotiations are currently underway regarding incorporating it into the Silver Marches, but these negotiations have flounder due to concerns about their ability to defend themselves. To this end, the Patriarchate is reactivating the long dormant mythallar and seeking components within the ruins of other Netherese cities. These expeditions have not been appreciated by the Empire of Netheril. Other expeditions are launched into the Fardrimm as they attempt to survey the Fardrimm and determine the status of the old dwarven strongholds there. Ultimately, the Patriarchate would like to reopen the Fardrimm and help reestablish a Second Delzoun Empire or at least help the other dwarves in region make better use of the ancient Low Road.

One of these survey expeditions is exactly what they have in mind today.

Glorian Silvernail, the Axelady of Barakbarr and Mage Commander of the Forgemark Arcanii is pacing in front of the party, gesturing at a large map. Over a hundred dwarves are assembled in front of the eastern barracks and the Mage Commander is in a foul mood today, either. Glorian has a mop of short blue hair streaked with grey held up by a headband. A blue tabard covers her finely crafted plate mail. In her hand rests a Staff of the Magi, a fact she takes pride in and delights in pointing out to others, especially wizards. A mace and a dwarven waraxe sit on belt loops at her side next to half a dozen wands which click against each other as she walks. A round shield emblazoned with the holy symbol of Berronar, two interlocked silver rings sitting atop an open grimoire rests against the wall next to a crossbow. The significance of the heraldry is not clear to most, but everyone knows she’s a very powerful wizard and deadly with her weapons as well.

“…. and the next time one of ye lose yer maps like those rothe dung that call themselves Forgemark of Gulvar’s detachment, don’t be coming back! Don’t lose yer equipment! Absolutely do not lose yer standard, either! Go back and get it!” Red faced, she slams her staff on stone floor with a loud crack. “We nay want drow or duergar or shadovar finding it, do we Gulvar? Or waste a month’s patrol? “

“No, Mage Commander…” Gulvar says, a sour and shamed look on his face on the intimidating looking dwarf.
“What? Is that sincerity I did NOT hear?” Glorian barks.
“No, Mage Commander! Err… yes! No first than yes!” Gulvar replies back.
“I know why ye lost yer satchel. Because yer a lackwit!”
Rather than respond, he says nothing this time and is red-faced with embarrassment. Glorian gives him a withering look, takes a deep breath and regains her composure.
“Gulvar, yer placed on scroll scribing duties for a month. Yer dismissed.” Turning to the gathered dwarves, she stands stiffly.

“Arcanii Gulvar’s detachment was ambushed three days ago in the Fardrimm while encamped at an old ruin. During his… withdrawal, his detachment became disordered. He left behind one of his own, his map satchel, a magicked Underdark map and a standard. We need to recover all of this. A large force would just be scaring off these duergar, so I’m sending a smaller force to surprise them. With luck, we’ll have ‘verything back within the week.“ Looking in the direction of the party, she levels her gaze at them.

“Arcanii Carmard, ye are to take your detachment into the Fardrimm and recover our kin, our standard and our maps and to leave immediately. I trust ye to use our grey friend ‘ere to help on this task. The rest of ye are dismissed. Arcanii Carmard, Dreka and Gulrik, stay here so we can make preparations.”

The rest of the assembled dwarves file back into the barracks or move on to other business, saying little to anyone. More than a few cast sorrowful looks in the party’s direction...

[Miraqariftsky]

Spoiler

Show

Dream sequence under construction

"S-s-surely G-Gulvar did not f-f-flee without takig note of the lay of the land over there, marm?" Dreka stutters as she tries to shield herself in vain from the noontide heat.

Scratching her bald pate through the cowls of two thick grey cloaks one atop the other, she says further, "N-n-never, ye can be sure of the numbers or the strength of a party of my folk--- I s-s-suggest extreme caustion and wariness"

[chiefwaha]

The powerfully built, light skinned dwarf with a blond beard that Glorian referred to as Carmard nods as he speaks, "I'm at your command lady."

He leans on an axe as tall as himself, and wears fine platemail emblazoned with the symbol of Moradin.

[mshady]

As the rest of the folks clear, Glorian waits impatiently. Far from a patient dwarf, she seems particularly impatient today evident by her tense face and her repeatedly clenching her fingers on her powerful stave. When the last person clears out, followed by her glare, she begins…

“Arcanii Carmard, take the other two with ye. Hopefully we can find an axe idiot to go along with you, the priest and Dreka to even ye out but I’ve got more than a few irons in the fire right now so… we’re limited. I hope yer ready, because you’ll be on yer way shortly. The truth of the matter is that, while Gulvar just got back… he also just left. As ye know, some patrols are given magicked amulets or similar things. When they’re broken, they allow ye to be teleported straight back here if yer in mortal peril. With some effort, we can find them in case one o’them is lost or as ‘s more often the case… the wearer is killed. Can’t just tell everyone that though! So…”

Glorian reaches into a small bag on her hip and hands Carmard two stone rune tablets bearing Glorian’s personal mark.

“…I nay have any more of those. Instead… you’ll have to do this. You’ll proceed to Soulhome through one of our portals. The big rune is a shared rune that I cast, letting ye use a Gate spell. Once yer in Soulhome, use that rune to open a Gate to where ye want to go. It’ll take ye exactly there; only safe way to move in the Underdark outside of walking. Retrieve the maps and our standard; ye are to finish up Gulvar’s patrol for him. Finish Gulvar’s route and use the second rune to teleport back here. Or if yer group gets into serious trouble beforehand… which could happen. But don’t lose anything! The standard is a manner of honor more than just its value, but the Undermap Gulvar had shows all routes through the Underdark within a mile. I nay think I’ll ever send one of those out again. Hmm…” Glorian reaches into her satchel and removes a small, leather scroll case and hands it to Carmard. A blood stain is readily apparent.

“Those are Gulvar’s orders. They’ll explain all the details ye need there. I’ve marked where the rune was on a paper map in there as well when I cast the location spell, but they may be moving. I want ye to find whomever took it and kill them. If there’s too many… use a sending stone and let me know if ye need the help but ye better make sure ye need the help.” Glorian tosses an odd shaped lump of quartz to Carmard as well that is covered in dethek runes. Thinking a moment, she tosses two more dethek rune covered stones to Carmard.

“The other two… one is a blade barrier spell, the other be a spell called cloudkill. Ye know full well the uses of poison gas in caves, I suspect.” She smiles wolfishly. “So any questions? Straightforward enough I think.”

[chiefwaha]

Carmard scratches his beard, "No lady, no questions. We shall recover the maps, standard, and any living patrolmen, then finish the patrol."

[mshady]

Yegresh? Nexus? Anything to add before we continue here?

MShady

[Miraqariftsky]

Dreka nocks her crossbow beneath the heavy folds of her cloak and hears the satisfying click of a bolt sliding into place. Stroking the old wood, steel and twine, she licks cracked lips, pulls her cowls even lower and mutters, "B-B-Ber-ro-ro-nnar's name, shall we not move already--- the better to get out of the sun?"

[mshady]

Glorian turns to walk away and halts in her tracks. Turning her head in a near owl like fashion, she blinks and looks at Dreka.

"Lass... ye know where ye are, aye? In the Underdark? Barakbar? Aye?" Turning fully, she looks at Carmard.

"Ye sure ye want this one as yer scout?" Glorian states, a hint of grinding impatience in her voice. Looking at Dreka like a damaged child with a questioning but unsympathetic, she is weighing and measuring her.

[Yeygresh]

Gulrik

Gulrik looks at Dreka with a flabbergasted expression, then turns to regard Mage Commander; "I'm.. sure she's just... anxious! Anxious to reclaim the standard, yes."

After giving a curt bow, Gulrik turns and heads toward the exit. "Let us be going now, the sooner we leave the better, me thinks."

[OoC] I apologize for my lateness, my router seemed to had an aneurysm the other day, and it took a while to fix.

[mshady]

Glorian clears her throat as Gulrik turns to leave.

"Ye hold on there!" Her voice snaps like a whip in Gulrik's ears. "I'm still wait'n on an answer from her. As Gorm priest, I'd think you'd be more concerned with protect'n yer party as yer supposed scout nay seems to know where she is. I know she be a bit of a barking moonbat, but..."

Glorian walks up next to Dreka and ***** her head, blue hair falling to the side.
"Lass, where do ye think ye are? Ye okay?" Glorian takes a tenative sniff, perhaps checking for alcohol.

[Miraqariftsky]

"M-m-my s-sleep was bad, marm" Dreka stutters with a shiver. "Whether, o-o-omen, 'twas, o-o-or n-n-nigh-ightmare, I know not..."

Finding that speaking about her woe actually makes her feel better, she continues her musing before her great benefactor... and yet she shivers still. With thrembling hands, she unloads her crossbow, fearing that she might fumble with all her shivering and shoot herself in the foot. "Cold... cold... cold, it was. D-d-ark, beyond reckoning... I... I felt like s-s-something was s-s-sucking me dry... yet it was no illithid, them, my folk know well..."

She then bows low, mumbling, "S-s-sorry f-for my sh-shortcomings, marm..."

[chiefwaha]

Carmard looks at Glorian and then to Dreka. No emotion crosses his face, but he wonders if he's been saddled with a crazy comrade as he waits for directions.

[mshady]

Glorian's look changes from one of bafflement to enragement and back again. Gripping the silver ring on her left hand with her right, she twirls it on her index finger as if it is a kind of touchstone for her. The anger subsides and she pauses to think as she watches Drekka fumble to unload a crossbow that should never have been loaded with a withering look. Turning away, she steps over to Carmard and speaks directly to him in tones loud enough for the whole group to overhear.

"Arcanii Carmard, I nay truly have the time to sort out all that ones... troubles. Sort her out or find yerself another scout as ye please. I know we took 'er in for her...potential... but remind her we demand some form o'discipline out of her. She needs to work for 'er supper like the rest of us. I trust ye to address that crossbow o'hers as well."

Spinning on her heels, Glorian turns and walks off down the long corridors of Barakbar, her staff clicking angrily on the ground and shaking her head in what would generously be called dismay.

[chiefwaha]

Carmard nods, "As you command." He turns to the others and looks at them steadily. Finally he grunts and opens the leather case with the instructions in them and begins to read. "Get anything you need together you two, we're leaving soon."

[mshady]

Carmard and his group leave the mustering area and walk to the portal rooms at the heart of Barakbar. Ancient arcane flames blaze along the walkway along the high, vaulted ceiling. They cast an oddly soothing red hue; one of the few things the mythallar can still power in Barakbar. The group walks down a long walkway made of sectioned black marble and hardly see a soul as they do so. By the dwarven standards of this day, Barakbar was well populated but this place was built in another era and the age shows. However fine the dwarven stonemasonry and Netherese magic was that built this place was, it shows its age. Pock marks, cracks and outright holes are found along the corridor along the way, evidence of the battles that have swept through the area, earth quakes and outright age. Barakbar was a kind of ruined beauty. The Patriarchate was working hard to return the stronghold to its ancient splendor and soldiers here did as much stonemasonry work as drilled. Arcanii had other duties.

One of those involved golems. The group passes a senior Arcanii walking down the corridor wearing a large amulet with one of the stronghold’s Hammer Golems in tow. It clanks along with solid, heavy, thumps and clanks behind its master. The Arcanii waves at Carmard as the two cross paths but no words are exchanged. They walk past busy smithies and a training area, as well as several living areas but hardly see another soul.

After walking for many minutes, the group enters the central plaza. Corridors lead off in other directions and the plaza resembles the hub of a wagon wheel in layout. The great chamber rises up several hundred feet with layers of rooms carved into the side. These areas house most of the actual residents and it is where Carmard and the others call home. The view of the magnificent chamber is a pleasing site from several levels up, watching the hustle and bustle below as this area is the living heart of the stronghold. The vaulted ceiling, supported by massive pillars of stone, ends in a dome high above the plaza. The glowing of dethek rune wards, both freshly carved and ancient, line the top of the dome that protect the stronghold from all manner of intruders. Many intricate, painted, engravings of dwarven history fill the top of the dome. On opposite sides of the dome stands the intricately engraved visage of Axelord Darin Besander and a Netherese Arcanist. Both have hands outstretched, reaching towards each other and symbolizing the joint efforts of Delzoun and Opus Enclave here.

At the very center of the dome is a shaft reaching up to passageways leading to the surface. There are no stairs or any visible means of getting up there or back down short of falling. Directly below the shaft sits a rune circle is set directly below the shaft. A Netherese sigil is set in the center of the rune circle. To use the magic, one must simply step into the circle and speak the proper words to activate the magic. The speaker and all on the platform are levitated upwards. In ancient times, it would have been used to bring dwarves and their merchandise upwards to Besander's Blockhouse. It also made an assault from above nearly impossible. Getting down works in a similar fashion, but the descent is much rougher, not unlike a feather fall spell. These days, the emphasis is more on fall than feather and it is rarely used after Barakbar's discovery by the Forgemark some years ago.

Rich tapestries decorate the sides of the chambers, ranging from magnificently rendered holy symbols of the dwarven gods to personal coats of arms and other personal sigils hung from the residences. Several free standing buildings sit in the chamber as well, including a magnificent temple, a granary, an armory, community buildings and a large palace that fills nearly a quarter of the chamber and goes deep into the stone behind it. Three towering dwarven statues stand in front of the palace. One is of Maker Delzoun, the founder of the Delzoun Empire. The second is of Dalrin Besander, the founder of Barakbar. The third, recently carved and of equal size, is of Patriarch Hignar Jilker.

The palaces itself is made of white marble with torches alight with arcane flames and flanked by obelisks covered in powerful runes. Two massive tapestries hang by the yawning adamantine doors at the end of a long section of stairs; one of the Jilker Mountain Lion with its glittering green emerald eyes set atop Dumathion’s mountain and the other a crossed hammer and mace atop Moradin’s anvil with Berronar’s interlocked silver rings behind it. In the absence of the Patriarch, Glorian leads the stronghold from here. Several dwarves and a golem stand by the great gates to the palace with their long polearms and crossbows.

Carmard’s group walks towards the palace and up the stairs. The guards greet Carmard and salute.

The Mage Commander 'as just through here ahead of ye and said ye were head'n this way. Straight to the portal chambers and on yer way, she said. Ye 'ave good luck with that, whereever yer off to and whatever yer up to! Axes high! The doors swing open with a groan and they enter the palace. Inside and leaning against the wall sits Gulvar, a box of scrolls and supplies sitting by his feet. He looks haggard and still in his plate mail armor, the signs of recent battle quite plain on it. Two other dwarves stand with him, plainly Forgemark Legionnaires. As Carmard enters, he smiles tiredly at his fellow Arcanii and waves.

"Carmard, I was hop'n to catch ye before ye left! I want to come with ye. I may be disobey'n orders, but I can do this scroll work later, aye? Tis my only chance to recover my honor. What do ye say lad? I'd just need a little time in Faitholme to prepare a few spells. Me boys and I wan even the score." The dwarf looks at Carmard, pleadingly. "At least lemme tell ye what I know..."

[chiefwaha]

Carmard looks at the dwarf, sympathy in his eyes, "Gladly I'd have you along, but we both have our duties. What good would gathering your honor back if you were exiled for abandoning your duties here? I will listen to any information you can provide though."

[mshady]

The one Forgemark soldier frowns at Carmard's response and scratches under his beard. His looks is not menacing, but very firm.

"Laddie, ye really want to get between three dwarves 'nd their honor?"

Gulvar places a hand on the soldier's shoulder.

"Carmard, yer right, but ye nay heard her say when the scroll work 'as supposed to be done, did you? The other two, they be under no such restriction as I, 't least take them with ye. Ye may not know Ole Blood & Glory 's well as I, but she'll never let ye live down someth'n unless ye get rid of the bee 'n her bonnet. I ran 'hen I should've stood maybe, but I'd also be dead. So fer me, I'm already an exile so let me worry about me, eh?

I'll tell ya this though... she's send'n an equal squad as mine out fer a mission 'gainst some devil duergars that 're already alerted and prolly expecting trouble. Yer liable to end up 'n the same as me or off to Dwarfhome with yer ancestors. So tak'n a few extras, and know the area to boot nay hurt, eh? Yer job 's to get back what I lost. How ye be doin' that is pretty open ended."

The other two dwarves with him grunt in agreement.

"As fer what happened.... there were five o'us. We made camp fer a few hours near the Killing Gates 'tween here and Sundabar. I had one sentry fore and one sentry 'hind us in the tunnel while the other three o'us rested. Well they must've gotten by the sentry and next 'hing I know, there's a demon 'r devil 't the head of a herd o'armored duergar. So we did the 'nly thing we could do. We ran back towards the back sentry, fight'n them off as best we could and magicked ourselves back here.

Only way I could buy the time I needed 'n the end was to plant our standard and it put up 'ts wall of force block'n our escape, but they started mov'n to flank us. Kinda what the thing's for if yer ask'n me. In me haste nay to get killed, I left a brown leather satchel with the Forgemark seal on it. Its warded so 'ts dangerous to folks but a good mage'll figure it out quick. The camp was set up in a small cut in the side o' this spur of the Low Road, where ye can start a fire and nay be seen fer leagues down the blasted tunnel. One o'me boys is bein' seen by the priests, our priest no less, and near dead from the fight.

So it just be the three o'us... can we help or not?"

[Diarmuid]

Gralmthor

An aged veteran of the Forgemark who had been standing behind Gulvar steps forward and addresses Carmand, his tone is hinted with some desperation, but also a bite that seems aimed towards the leader of the previous botched mission,

"Lad...err Arcanii sir, if'n ye canna take 'im with ya, kin I at least get ye ta bring along meself and maybe some o' the other Forgemark what set out with Gulvar? We left one o' ours back there when 'e planted tha' standard to solidify the retreat? We was portallin' outta there afore we really knew what was goin on. Maldin might still be out there in them tunnels, not to mention our standard tha map entrusted to our....leader."

Some disdain when he refers to Gulvar is obvious, but the sincerity in the concern for his brother in arms is obvious.

Grabbing the dwarven waraxe from one hip and his hand axe in the other, the veteran bangs them crossed against the chest of brightly shining mithril banded mail common among the elite Forgemark Legionnaires. An excellently made buckler is strapped to the arm with the hand axe also.

"Gralmthor, o' tha Forgemark Legionnaires."

[chiefwaha]

Carmard scratches his golden beard for a while. Finally he shrugs, "I'll leave it up to each of you. Obviously I'm not ordering any of you along and you wouldn't be under my command, but if you feel the honor you lost in a failed mission supercede your current duties, I'll gladly use your support. Regardless, from your information, do you think you can get me as many scrolls or runes of see invisibility as you all can muster?"

[mshady]

Gulvar listens to what Gralmthor says and has a tight lipped looks on his face beneath his short, trimmed beard. He is clearly uncomfortable and waits while Carmard thinks. When he agrees to let him come, the dwarf breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank ye. If I survive this and we're succesful, I'll gladly deal with Bloody Glory and be happy fer what I get. So few o'us, can hardly be kick'n us out, can she?"

He puts a forced grin on his face, but he rightly fears the Mage Commander's wrath.

As fer runes, we're think'n along the same lines. I... borrowed a handful o'that kind and I 'ave some invisibility & silence ones as well. One 'ould almost think that Glory tell'n me to go to the scroll & rune storage, she almost 'anted me to take what I needed. Guess ye can say I've been hoard'n some supplies too. I do have a reputation. Prolly why I get the long patrols... So lemme know what ye need."

Gulvar smiles and opens up the black, leather trench coat he is wearing, revealing all kinds of baubles.

"The pockets 're bigger on the inside too."

Most Arcanii were personally trained by Glorian in full or in part and she had created the group through force of will, abundant skill and sheer tenacity. Even those who had been with her for years knew what to make of her though. She a very "hands on" kind of leader, but few of the dwarves were used to such an aggressive, hard woman let alone following a woman and more comfortable fighting than leading. A dwarf could respect that, at least. One of the great difficulties with dealing with her was her chaotic nature; it was hard to know how she would react. Gulvar, known for his coveting hands and 'losing' supplies, took his assignment to the storage areas doing inventory and such as a subtle invitation to fix his mess. He also took it as an end of patience with his problems.

"Lets go to the portal chambers, aye? We can stop off fer supplies as ye need. I have the key afterall. Yer lucky to have Drekka fer this, I suppose, as we're fighting duergar. Luck fer hav'n Drekka? I never thought I'd say that..."

[Diarmuid]

Gralmthor

As he moves to follow the arcanists to the supply rooms, Gralmthor mumbles under his breath something along the lines of

[Mumbling]"We'll see if we're lucky or not. Duergar're dont generally bring luck from what I've seen"[/Mumbling]

[mshady]

The group exits the front corridor and enters into a large gallery with a soaring ceiling featuring elaborate, painted, carvings. One of the distinguishing things about Delzoun stonemasonry was that it was often painted and much of it stayed that way through magic. The wide open area is decorated with tapestries and banners and guards stand at the next gate. Several floors overlook the gallery, with decorated crenallations to protect crossbowmen fighting off any attacks. The area was perfect for receiving guests, welcome or otherwise.

The second gate is open and the party walks right on through without more than a greeting from the guards. The next section is filled with corridors once more and Gulvar steers the group down one. It circles around the throne room and he explains he does not want to be seen going into the vaults. After several minutes of walking, they approach the vaults where two guards stand by it. This was where many of Barakbar's runes, scrolls, potions and some of its treasure was stored. Showing the guards a rune tablet granting him access, they nod towards Gulvar and open the gate to this section of the vaults. Others were far better guarded, but held little more than minor scrolls and potions. Important, but not nearly so when compared to what else was here. Anyone who entered without a rune key would be locked inside the warded rooms by magical means, so only the right people could actually leave the rooms once entered.

Waving his hand over an arcane torch, it springs to life followed by the rest in the room. The room is stocked with crates of scrolls, tablets and books. Gulvar smiles to the group.

"So Carmand, what else did ye need? Told ye I could get it for ye!" Gulvar grins wide.

[chiefwaha]

Carmard scratches his head, "Let's see; see invisibility, invisibility purge. Some dispels may be useful, passwalls might come in handy. A few knock spells might be useful. A stone tell or two. Silence spells. If anyone can think of anything else we might use, please speak up."

[mshady]

Gulvar nods and laughs. "Here I thought I 'as the one with the shopp'n list! How 're ye folks set fer potions fer heal'n? We should prolly look fer a scroll to try and banish whatever 'hat demon or devil was too cause I'm tell'n ye, we damn near through everything but a smithy's anvil at it and it was nay bothered."

Gulvar takes out a small journal and writes down what Carmard wants for the group and starts rifling through shelves and crates...

[chiefwaha]

Carmard shrugs, "Healing is always helpful."

[Diarmuid]

Gralmthor

The grizzled veteran tunes out the mystical mumbo jumbo going on between Gulvar and the other Arcanii and follows them through the halls. When they reach the vault, he whistles appreciatively at the amount of supplies available.

He meanders through the shelves looking around, not understanding most of the arcane labels and terms for the scrolls.

Stopping in front of a shelf lined with small vials of various colors, he calls over to Gulvar,

"I dont need nuthin but me axes ta banish any demons. Hey, are any o' these potions tha kind what make ye grow tall, or makes ya stronger and whatnot? I could certainly use some of them healin potions too if'n ye're grabbin some."

[mshady]

Gulvar rummages through the shelves in the poorly lit storage area and he starts collecting things seemingly at random, from potions to scrolls to tiles. He places them all in a satchel that is already full of an assortment of things. The other Forgemark with Gralmthor and Gulvar, Ruthlymar watches all this with great constrenation.

"Uh, sir... ye sure you're 'upposed to be doin' that? Grabbin' all that stuff?"

Gulvar chuckles as he walkes over to a leather bound ledger. Removing a vial and uncorking it, he empties some of the liquid on to a rag and starts rubbing out some inventory figures. With a quill left by the ledger, he begins adding his own figures, chuckling all the way.

"No lad, that's why I'm doing this!" Grinning, he stashes the rag and vial in his satchel.

The Forgemark watches disapprovingly.

"You've done this before, haven't ye, sir?"
"Of course."
"Is this why we keep gett'n the long patrols?"
"Probably."
"Oh... I'm wish'n I didn't ask. Sir."
"Likely."

[chiefwaha]

Carmard silently wonders what sort of organization he'd gotten involved in. Guess I can't be choosy, at least they let me practice magic.

"Anything else?"

[mshady]

Gulvar looks into his satchel and shakes it around, checking its contents.

“Aye, I that’s everything we’re able to get outta here. Yer gonna have to find some more dwarves to come along on this one. Look down yer noses at all ‘hat I’m taking along but ye didn’t see what I seen. A bunch of duergar as I said, and some kind o’devil or demon with’em…. It’s some kind of weird, freakish thing. If it was alone, I’d say it was something queer the lower Underdark spit up. Not sure what it was. A big ‘ole green looking, thing and it had these blazing red eyes! Twas covered in all these spikes. The spells I got off… shrugged them right off like it was no big thing. Our priest tried to hit it and got gored by the spikes. I doubt magic is harmless to it, but ye may have better luck poking it with a pike or shoot'n it. Any idea what it was? I sure don’t and it scared the piss outta me and me boys. I’m hoping we can just banish the big bastard. Goin’ through it to might be a helluva thing to do…”

Gulvar frowns at the prospect and shakes his head to himself.

“Any ideas? Otherwise… off to Faitholme, I reckon. Maybe we can find some more to come along and some freak kill’n weapons.”

[Diarmuid]

Gralmthor

Gralmthor simply shrugs at having been ignored. He was used to that from the magic finger waggler types. The potions would have been nice, but he was used to relying on nothing but his axes, his shield, and his armor. His companion's disdain for Gulvar's antics amused him, but he let it go with a simple smile.

Listening to the description of the beast, Gralmthor racks his brain thinking back through his experiences in the Underdark.

Knowledge Dungeoneering - (1d20+6)[19]