"Of COURSE I'm going to try and destroy this thing before it destroys the time. Hopefully my companions will come along as well"
He turns to the Ratfolk
"Sorry, in all the commotion we never really got introduced. I'm Sir Haldern, Palladin of The Inheritor. Haldern to my friends. This is my good friend Jensal."
Ganorok smiles again, showing his big front teeth.
"A pleasure to meet you. Ganorok, at your service, and Abadar's. Feel free to call me Mouse. I owe you my life, and I must repay you. I, and my abilities, are at your disposal, until the debt is paid in full. And we get that... creature... that attacked Abadar's temple."
He bows in front of you all.
"I expect a share of any profits and equipment we procure while helping you, anyway, if that is acceptable. I will forfeit the normal advance payment, and minimum gain, I normally ask, because I am in your debt."
He extends a small paw.
"So, we have a deal?"
"We certainly do. Glad to have you along"
Ganorok smile widens, and grabs some stuff from his handy haversack.
"Here, have some while I pen the contract!"
He serves some cheese for all to eat, while he takes a parchment, and with elegant, if somewhat small, calligraphy makes a contract.
"Excuse me, but what is the name of your team, so I can write it in the contract?"
Bladud's customary, often inappropriate grin returns as he listens to Alleria. "Kill a dragon and get to play the hero for a bit? Damn straight I'm in." He cuts a suspicious look at Blaydon, but his tone is playful. "Though we never got to vet this square-jawed man of yours. I guess we'll let it slide this once." He gives Blaydon a wide grin, "But we get veto rights on your next suitor."
Bladud turns to watch the rat-man prepare his document. "I'll let you and Haldern deal with the contract. A man's word is good enough for me." He shrugs, his armor creaking, "And don't sweat the healing. It's what partners do. Right partner?"
At the long list of "natural" threats they're likely to encounter, Bladud grimaces. "So worst environment imaginable. That's all you had to say. Worst environment imaginable. So, what? We hold our breath for a couple days while we look for a dragon to kill?"
"I'm sorry, but we don't have a formal name for the group. You'll have to just list us all individually."
"Mouse, was it? I'm Kenjakana. No surname. I can shield us from some of it with Life Bubble," muses the tiny Half-Elf somewhat lightly. She yawns. "...I'm completely spent, though. I burned most of my magic trying to put out those fires; I could barely summon a dire rat right now. I say that we leave in the morning. Besides, we need to go bury Damien."
Unless stopped, the Sorceress promptly flies off to go recover the body of their fallen comrade.
Ganorok black beady eyes grow wide (well, a little) and his whisker fall down.
"No formal name? You don't have a charter? How can that be! Let me resolve that!"
He insists in drafting a charter for the group, detailing the conditions and provisions for the partnership (the normal stuff, equal shares for everyone, delivery to remains to designated relatives or organizations, provisions for resuscitation and compensation for loss of limbs or faculties).
About the name, he thinks of it for a minute.
"What about we call ourselves Dalaston's Avengers?"
After they have chosen a group name, he will ask for everyone to sing the charter and store it in an scroll case in his Handy Haversack.
"Ready, now we can proceed. Where is this dragon? Let go make him pay his dues! But... what about the baron of this lands? Shouldn't we have a talk with him about the children of this place?"
Bladud eyes the contract warily, "And here I was thinkin' ... 'The Facepunchers'. Got a nice ring to it, don't it?"
When the contract is finished, Bladud shrugs, "And I aint really much on contracts. We know what the job is. We said we'd work together and split the loot. I don't really think my name on that paper's gonna really do anything' about any of it."
He doesn't move to sign, and doesn't seem inclined to.
"the dragon is somewhere around these Scarred Lands, if the fiery dwarves priest is to be believed. Best lead we got," He turns to Alleria, "Unless you got some insider info you wanna ... enlighten us on."
"Plus," he says, hiking a thumb over at Kanjakana, "she needs her beauty sleep. As do I." He gives an ugly grin, "Ain't easy upkeepin' this mug."
Haldern leans in towards Bladud and speaks quietly
"Don't worry about the contract. Just sign it. It either says what he says it does in which case there is no harm or it doesn't and you ignore it later. There certainly isn't any local authority to enforce a bad contract.
And, if it ever comes to it, you'll have my word as a paladin of Ioemedae as to what a cleric of Abadar told us the contract says. That will carry a lot of weight.
In short, no downside to signing it. And it will make our new friend happier"
To the group
"Yes, getting some rest would be a good idea. We'll set off in the morning"
That said, Haldern would then spend several hours doing any necessary healing, making sure the people are somewhat organized, etc etc. He'd probably catch a nap in the wee hours of the night
Bladud eyes Haldern, the contract, Ganorok, then shrugs. "If you say so."
He scribbles a half-assed name ... that kind of takes up more than the space allotted for a single signature.
Ganorok smiles widely, his beady eyes gleaming.
"Much happier! Adventuring without a good contract is a very bad idea! Thanks for signing, you won't regret it. Have some more cheese!"
Ganorok will help the others prepare for the next leg of their journey, and be ready in the morning, all prep-up for the travel.
"Don't forget to pack enough water!"
Ganorok smiles widely, his beady eyes gleaming.
"Much happier! Adventuring without a good contract is a very bad idea! Thanks for signing, you won't regret it."
"I already do."
Baydon seems busy mourning over his mother; he can offer Bladud little with or response.
Alleria lets out a long-drawn sign of relief, then hugs Haldern and Bladud again. "...thank you. Thank you."
She turns to leave, then pauses. "...the dragon I saw looked bulging, fit to grow; I'll wager It's looking for a place to rest before it ages and grows into an elder form. Look for hide-aways fit for a dragon amid the scar."
She turns and joins the crowd, and sets about calming tempers and forging the anvil of intention amid the coals and mess of panic and despair.
If bothered about it, Kenjakana carefully reads the terms and signs the contract in her native Minkaian script (which is rather pretty) if nothing strikes her as weird or dangerous.
Once Damien is buried, the tiny Half-Elf casts Mage's Magnificent Mansion and helps Sir Haldern distribute the small mountain of food and beverages that the spell naturally creates. Once the dust settles, the Sage Sorceress slips into a small room that she created for herself and promptly passes out.
Bladud also helps heal the townsfolk, using his gifts to to get men, women, and children back into shape to begin rebuilding their town. And once that's done, he works a bit to help get some of the bigger fires out and find salvageable shelter and food.
... then laziness strikes and he goes and looks for Kenjakana's mansion and a place to drink, eat, and rest up.
After Kenjakana catches up on her beauty sleep, reads through her spellbook, and refilling her drink containers, she conjures another mansion and puts Alleria in charge of distributing the foodstuffs.
"After Bladud casts Life Bubble on all of us, we can depart. I think I know enough about our destination to make Greater Teleport stick. I don't see the point of wasting a day on traveling there."
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After a day of working that turned into a night of drinking—some in celebration in life, most in mourning for all the death—Bladud limps out into the group’s meeting spot, rubbing slightly-bloodshot eyes. Then again, the big half-orc always looks like he’s been hitting the bottle, so maybe it’s just another morning?
Regardless, rested and ready, he walks up to the group and gives a cocky, ugly grin, and holds up one gauntleted hand for group high-fives. ”Ready to go beat some dragon ass?”
Then he leans on his polearm, ”Oh, and I had a thought this morning when I was gettin’ ready.I think I have a way of gettin’ us to the Scarred Lands, but I ain’t never done it before. So … buckle up.”
He has the team circle up, then begins croaking out a short incantation, raising one meaty hand to the sky … where clouds begin to funnel down to his outstretched palm, skim along his arm, across his torso, and out onto the hands and bodies of the group members. For a moment, the thin layer of clouds cling to everyone’s skin, then their bodies merge with it … becoming insubstantial. They can somehow feel the slight wind blow through them.
Apparently done, Bladud looks at his own body. ”There,” he says curiously, ”looks like it stuck. Should last us more than half a day or so, I reckon.” He looks at the team, ”Maybe we should all wear white … we’d look like clouds.”
When the time comes, Bladud looks around, realizing folks are looking to him. ”Oh, fine. My spell; I’ll take point.” There’s a delay as he figures out how to get some momentum, then a wide grin splits his face. He focuses intensely, scowling, then a loud fart sends him skyward.
”You gotta make your own wind!” he yells back, sailing in the direction of their destination.
Having memorized the spell from her spellbook earlier that morning, Kenjakana covers the group with a protective Life Bubble when she gets the chance.
Ganorok arrives in the morning with joy in his step.
"Good morning partners! I say some cheese with eggs would make a fine breakfast today!"
He has to jump to Bladud's high five, which he makes with a high sprinting one. When he mentions "kicking dragon ass" his whiskers shiver.
"Ready to see you do it. I'll try not to get in the way. Dragons have never been my specialty. But I'll make sure there are no traps on his treasure after the fact."
The cloud formerly known as Ganorok flies around, up and down, hiding below a chair, and up in the cellar.
"I love it! Very useful!"
He thanks Kenjakana for her spell too.
"I see I choose a great group to partner with. We will need to talk about an open-ended contract, after all this."
After Bladud's "rocket propelled launch" Ganorok's cloud gets a light green tint to it.
"Damn! He must be lactose intolerant!"
He flies after Bladud, taking care of not being downwind to him, into the sky.
Jensal : "Squaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrkkk. Squark? Squark!"[b]
[b]"Thank you for that. This is an interesting and quite different experience. Even if Jensal does not completely agree :-)"
The group speeds its way out of the town, venturing forth to dragon-killing. After a short hour of travel, the Dragonscar comes into view.
had many of its buildings buried by the extensive lava flows from Blackpeak’s eruption. A few lava bombs demolished other structures, and thick ash coated the entire city. Lava and toxic gas erupted from fumaroles and vents all over, poisoning those who survived the other hazards. As the citizens fled or cowered, the dragon burned them alive or consumed them whole, then torched the remaining structures. Now, rivers of cooled lava cover much of the
town, leaving a few ruined homes and watchtowers poking toward the sky like skeletons erupting from a grave. Lava tubes snake across the flat areas, with cracks or collapsed areas creating tunnels and shelter for the creatures living here. Wreckage from the buildings and shattered lava bombs (once as big as horses, now scattered over house-sized areas) cover much of the remaining surface, and the various streets and piles of rubble spout faint plumes of smoke or volcanic gases. Originally painted green and blue to match its country’s flag, most of Talamir is now shades of deathly white and barren gray.
Aside from the landscape, spirits of shade and fire slowly drift amid the city. Over at the highest point on a watch tower you see movement.
"How do we do this? Do you want me to scout ahead?"
The cloud formerly known as Ganorok moves from side to side, nervously...
"We should stick together," says Kenjakana as she returns to her normal form. "If that Dragon catches us split up, then we're just asking for trouble."
Kenjakana proceeds to cast Resist Energy: Fire (to give the others more time when Bladud casts the Communal version on everyone else), Heightened Awareness, and Heroism on herself. She then casts Tears of Wine on her canteen and takes a big swig.
"Alright, let's look for signs of the Dragon. Mouse, since you are new to our group, I generally act as our tracker. I am quite proficient at tracking creatures and navigating through the wilderness."
Kenjakana then proceeds to put her money where her mouth is.
Cloud-Ganorok follows Kenjakana, aware of all of his surroundings...
(Automatic trap detection at 10', +7 for a total of 46)
Kenja's practiced tracking turns up a single clue in all this dangerous and toxic wasteland; nicks on the edges of the hollow tubes of cubed lava with a single ruby-red scale left embedded in the wall; something large and red entered this one not too long ago.
Cloud-Bladud follows along. At one point, he points up to the highest point on a watch-tower.
”Movement up there,” he says pointing with his polearm . ”Should we check that out before following Kenja’s trail?”
"I suppose we could, but I thought that the Dragon was our priority," says a confused Kenjakana.
Ganorok-cloud moves next to Kenjakana-cloud.
"She's right, you know."
Bladud shrugs, "Lead on."
"I agree with Kenjakana"
For most of its length, the Deep Tunnel is 15 feet wide, though it sometimes widens to nearly 25 feet. It is generally 20–30 feet below the surface of the mountain, paralleling the slope of the surface with a slightly gentler incline. It is mostly straight but sometimes bends to the east or west for a few hundred feet. The floor and ceiling are smooth and the climb is gentle enough to not require Climb checks.
The tunnel is haunted by the lost dead of Talamir; thousands of harmless burning shades no larger than a halfling wander back and forth, silently screaming.
Among them you spot greater and more dangerous shades incarnated into foes; shadows, specters, wraiths.
"Can they hurt us in this form? And can we harm them? Ie, can I just channel to at least hurt them and perhaps kill some of the weaker ones?
"I can try to distract them, and make them go away..."
"That ain't good."
Bladud shrugs, "I don't know if they can hurt us or not," he whispers, "But I'm guessing' once they know we're here, we have to fight'em all." For once, he doesn't seem thrilled at the prospect of a fight.
"Everyone grab onto me. I'll Dimension Door us past them. With that spell, you always arrive at exactly the spot desired - whether by simply visualizing the area or by stating direction. I'll just think of a spot down that the tunnel without these things flying everywhere."
Bladud nods, "It's better'n anything I can think of."
Before grabbing on, though, he mutters a few divining words, inspecting the walls around them.