"With this Key, you can see and open any door I ever made."
Well the spirit says ye could see and open any door he ever made. As long as it gets us back on the north road we are sorted. Did he want us to give it to the king or his representative? Speak with dead spell would reveal more but I'd say he was local. Most o the doors he made would be round here.
Eirik grins. "I guess I qualify; I've got the royal charter. But the spells Rogar's going to cast for you, that won't come close to repaying you for all this. What are you planning on doing out there? Maybe I have something you could use. We're holding most of what we find here for the next of kin of the fallen, but there are some things that are my inheritance. Though I have to wonder what some of my ancestors were thinking...who needs a folding boat in a dwarf city?"
More'n happy ta trade the adamantine tools an Hammer fer whatever ye got that ye can spare
Duncan may not be a merchant, but he was still a dwarf. A Craftsman at that, he had a good idea what the gear was worth.
Being adventurers in the wild, anything offerin better protections aagainst monsters. Armor, Weapons, amulets, the usual stuff. We are sorted fer water and I got a Wand o KEEP WATCH fer staying up fer the night. Even a Wand o Healing would be handy so's our War cleric can focus on battle prayers. Fer me, Personally, I'm pretty well geared up at the moment. A couple o elixirs o hiding would be handy actually. Finding myself scouting a fair bit and they'd help some wit me armor. Mebbe a Flask o acid or alchemist fire fer swarms.
Dashel laughs, "A folding boat is one of those items that you don't need, until you need it. A useful tool for a traveler." He ponders the offer, "I'm sure we can come to an agreement beneficial for all."
The little pseudo dragon pops his head out from behind the dwarfs head, holding onto the back of his neck guard.
Duncan pats the Pseudo dragon,
Ain't forgot ye, Buddy.
He looks back to the dwarf with a shrug.
Me little dragon friend needs a bed. 20 gold outta the value o the tools if ye could.
Ye know, what I'd most get use out of would be one o those cracked pale green prism Ioun stones or one o them belts o giant strength. Make ye hit with a bit more accurate, they do. But I doubt ye got one or if there be enough value amongst the tools to trade. Must save up fer one.
"I'd get some quality use out of a tankard or three of fine dwarven ale or mead." His eyes glimmer with longing. "We can discuss what you have to trade over that."
Assuming we actually manage a few tankards of brew Dashel smiles with joy. "Mighty fine ale here, just a hint of warm spice floating over my palate, reminds me of one of Cayden's alehouses I once visited." He seems to be enjoying the reflection of less stressful times. With a deep sigh he brings himself back to current company, "As you can see, I'm not the most dexterous of human's. My mother use to say, I'd trip over my own feet, if I wasn't built like a rock. It'd be nice to be a bit more cat like at times, especially with my bow...blasted thing fails me more often than not. Some sort of belt, or glove, that can help me become slightly faster would be a boon." The cleric finishes his frothy mug.
There is, indeed, a goodly supply of ale, suitable for conducting negotiations over.
Duncan takes a long pull of his ale, downing 2 for every one his human ally was drinking, which was to say Dasher was doing well to keep up considering he was in the company of dwarves.
So there's our impasse. We have adamantine tools of the finest make, the material of which is extremely rare and valuable, given greater weight here because o the sheer size o the task afore ye and the fact adamantine cuts rock like butter. AND the fact that key opens any door our master smith ghost ever made, one of which happens ta be in the very spot yer diggin. Our need is the success o our mission, one that happens ta involve killing a beast or man not far to yer north who is workin magic that is gonna have consequences for more'n just the immediate area.
The dwarf takes another pull.
Ta succeed we need ta be better in battle. I'd like a belt o Giant Strength or one o them Cracked Ioun stones what makes ye better at fightin
Dashel here spoke plain, something ta quicken 'is reflexes or make him better at shootin
Our other allies have kept quiet. Probably though because ye have yet ta say what yer offerin for the Key and tools. Might be we'd all have a better idea of what we're barterin for if we knew what was ta be had?
On his second try, Rogar is able to lift the curse from Dashel.
Eirik matches the inquisitor drink for drink through the negotiations. His position isn't helped by his clear interest in the key; the hammer and tools are nice, but a quick walkaround in the more accessible parts of the city reveals a number of hidden ways that promise entry into areas that have been cut off by collapses since Starfall. In the end he comes up with a pair of belts (one +2 STR and one +2 DEX), a set of lesser bracers of archery, and a headband of +2 CHA (for Krolmnite, when he gets back).
The next day, Rogar has less success trying to lift the curse from Duncan.
Duncan tries on his new belt when the dwarves come up with the gear for payment.
What disappointment he felt that morning is forgotten as he has a few practice swings with his Greataxe. Now feeling lighter in Magically empowered hands.
Andgradd and Torag bless ye, friends. Honestly, I could see yer need but never expected ye ta come through with all the items as requested. Than You. Like true dwarves yer hhospitality was memorable and ye have earned the name 'friend' ta Duncan Redhammer, fer what it's worth.
"I will remember the friendship you bestowed for the remainder of my days. This belt is gladly accepted and should you ever need assistance, do not hesitate to summon me. My sword and my faith will gladly assist." He then clanks his tankard to the others.
Duncan spits his tankard as he gets an angry nip from his pseudo dragon.
Sod it. Forgot about Silf. I got me a Wand o Expeditious Retreat here I ain't been using ta sell, please. Gave me word the dragon would get his own hoard ta sleep on. He's definitely earnt at least a hunnerd gold so far.
That taken care of Duncan resumes his drinking and pats Silf.
Now to other business. I think we might be ready ta get back after this Dark Road. If we might get around the collapse via that key and head on out, we can resume the original mission with a better chance o success, thanks ta our hosts.
After fastening his belt on and finishing his fair share of ale Dashel suggests a they rest for the evening then continue on in the morning. "Gratitude for all that you've done."
The next morning Dashel will pray for divine guidance and try to remove the curse and disease from Duncan.
If needed,
Over the next day, Dashel and Rogar are able to purge the loathsome curse and disease from both of its victims. The following morning, Eirik shows the party an exit that he found with his newly-obtained key. "It opens up in a shallow cave below the snow line. Good luck with whatever it is that you're doing, and thank you."
The apparently-blank wall you're standing in front of opens for the dwarf leader. On the other side is a rough-hewn tunnel, curving out of sight. A cool, fresh breeze blows in, and the furthest point of the tunnel that you can see is illuminated by direct daylight, so it's clear that the exit can't be far.
"Duncan lead on but don't get yourself too far ahead, no need for risking separation or a wedge between us." Dahsel will draw his longsword, letting the blade shed it's light.
Happy to but I'll stay at the edge of the light so's I can still hide. Do yer best ta keep quiet and step light. They may be able ta see ye holding the light, but sound travels a lot faster here and echoes in the tunnels.
With that said, the dwarf leads off. Greataxe first.
"yeh...steath, I'm all over that." The squeaking cleric mumbles. "I prefer the honorable manner of combat announcing myself with authority."
"yeh...steath, I'm all over that." The squeaking cleric mumbles. "I prefer the honorable manner of combat announcing myself with authority."
[dice=stealth]1d20-6
Duncan does a double take.
Oh? Wasn't Imoedae a god o war? Never once sought a tactical advantage? A flank? An ambush? Even against superior numbers? A dragon?Duncan lays a hand on his new friend before short stepping off.
I USED ta think like ye lad. Then I 'announced' meself ta a group o assassin monks an died. Taught me the value o Stealth. I could hear poor Andrea screamin me name as I went dark.
The dwarf looks wistful for just a second, did Dashel spot some moisture in his eyes?
Then he shakes his head and stalks off.
Bah! Just let me get inta position afore ye go providin a target, we'll talk tactics next time we hit an ale house
"Goddess Iomedae brightly radiates her glory upon the battlefield, no need to hide in shadows. She is the never-ending light!" He waves his hands, "Headstrong and charging in solo is not sound tactics, Sir Duncan. However, a strong anchored core with an agile flank can turn any line. Reinforce that line with ample rear firepower, now that is sound battle tactic." He slaps the dwarf's back. "It's hard to lose a friend."
Behind the party, the hidden door shuts with a thud more felt than heard, cutting off Eirik's final wave of farewell. From this side, even Duncan has trouble finding the door. After a bit of rearrangement the dwarf takes the lead. He winces as Dashel manages somehow to catch his scabbard on some loose rock. Nothing else makes its presence known as the echoes die away, though, and he walks forward into the light.
After fifty feet or so (some of which was partly blocked by fallen rubble, but was still passable), Duncan comes to the mouth of the cave. The light that had seemed so bright from inside is revealed to be the sunrise, and he emerges into the light just in time to see the afterimage of the Dark Road fading under the sun's rays. The cave mouth is in the side of a shallow hill, covered with scrubby patches of grass and the occasional charred stump. Below, the hill continues to slope down for what he estimates is several miles, eventually terminating in a rolling plain covered with still more charred stumps. The plain ends a few miles past that in a ringwall, the edge of the crater left by the fallen star. The rising sun's light is reflected back in shifting patterns by the water that fills the crater--patterns that carry with them the veriest hint of colors not of this earth.
Nothing moves on the plain as far as the dwarf can see.
The rest of the party soon joins him at his vantage point, Elesandira shaking her head. "A cave like this should be an animal den, but there isn't so much as a rat dropping in there."
An area not being inhabited at all usually means one of 3 things. No other food ta live off. No clean water nearby or a predator picked tha place clean. Not sure yer next move. Let's ask the Cassian. Directions, Ye mighty flyin helmet?
"The terminus of the Dark Road is located on an island in the lake formed when the waters of Lake Encarthan ran into the crater you see." It pauses, then continues more slowly. In its metallic voice is a hint of something like embarrassment, if such a thing were possible. "I apologize for not thinking of this sooner. We need to cross the lake to reach the island, and you have no way of doing so."
Duncan falls over. Argh! The damn boat!
The possibility of getting back through that secret door was slim to none at best...
"Nothing quite light the warm glow of sunrise." Dashel kneels down and begins to pray. After a few minutes he rises his golden skin kissed by the morning light. "Ready!" He proclaims.
The island itself is not visible from where you are. If you stay at about the same altitude you are now and head roughly northeast for a day or so, you should be able to get a better look at it.
"We should look for boat or ferry that we can rent." Dashel continues to march along following the coast. "Surely there is an enterprising fisherman or ferry helmsman willing earn a good day's wages on the lake."