"Perhaps I can go into the next room disguised into a servant while you hide in the tunnel" Eidi looks towards the door "It would be interesting to know where exactly are we right now, and we need to open that door for it, and you will be close enough if I need to yell for help"
If the group agrees on the plan, Eidi uses disguise self to become a halfling servant. Then after the group hides in the tunnel, he opens the door and checks whom is at the other side.
Ascaria is uneasy about the plan, and whispers, "But how did you get into the library? What if they've been there for hours. Do they expect you to have just sat in the library all day? Seems weird, but it would be useful information to gain that's for sure if you want to risk it."
He'll hide in the tunnel, and listen for the screams of a halfling...
"Ascaria is right. A servant would be unlikely to come from a private library. We should head back to the room now... we've been gone a long time already. We found the missing sister, and the scrolls, though there wasn't anything we could do about either."
If Eidi insists on his plan, Tynan will move into the hallway with Aascaria.
"We can't reveal ourselves if they're innocents. Maybe we should head back."
Mortimer sits in the chair, and looks around the room.
He shifts around in the chair, trying to get comfy.
"Oohaw, Ascaria! We're here?! We're in the castle do you think?! Loris's back door into it? I think you might be right. I don't want to impress her that way... Innocent? About the mess behind the bookcase you mean? Maybe it is best not to disturb The Queen just this moment. We can always masquerade as a team and surprise them later."
Keeping track of all the twists and turns you experienced in the descent below Thrune Square, this new structure that lies just north of the Catafalque is itself north of Thrune Square, if only barely into The Grid, the district just off Thrune Square.
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Mortimer shimmies his backside well into the chair and stretches.
"Then again, I think were just off Thrune Square, to the North."
Slouching, he yawns.
"Hey, isn't there a scrying pool around here? Should we go back and look at that?"
"Hey, isn't there a scrying pool around here? Should we go back and look at that?"
Ascaria nearly shouts, but catches himself just in time to whisper, "Brilliant."
He suggests they head back to the scrying device and see if they can get it to work.
Eidi nods "Ok, let's go back to the pool and let's see what can be done"
The half-elf starts to move back through the concealed tunnel.
Solrisa follows, happy to be with friends and doing stuff.
When Artists and Outcasts ascend the stairs, this time from whence they came, they find the hallways reasonably quiet, save for some raucous shouts coming from down the hall to the east, as well as faint kitchen noises to the south.
Mortimer points to the northern hallway, leading to a central darkened-glass dome in the center of the entire Catafalque understructure floor. Closer inspection, with relatively quiet surrounds, and Eidi's cloak of invisibility, lets you take in the workmanship. It's a wonderful, single piece of obsidian. You are unable to see through it, at all. Placing it above Bozal's Haunt, and you're reasonably sure the ulgurstasta still slumbers beneath your very feet, beneath this dome.
Ascaria will cast Detect Magic and examine the dome to see if it is a scrying device of some kind.
If it is though, he wouldn't know... sigh.
Aside from the party's magic, this dome doesn't detect as such.
Ascaria shrugs, "Well this thing doesn't detect as magic. So if it's a scrying device, I dunno how it works. Maybe, when that thing has fully hatched, this becomes clear? I dunno, but there's nothing for us here right now I think."
"Let's sneak back while our invisibility holds and hope we weren't missed." he suggests.
Eri will do where Ascaria has failed.
..Or will not do.
"Yes, let's head back up."
"Let's hope the arena sees another day" Eidi pats his staff while he follows with the team the path back to the room "I really need to prepare better for that battle"
The elder keeps attention on maintaining the group under the sphere of invisibility while they come back.
The group abandons their investigation of the obsidian dome, returning to the Coenoby, which waits at the bottom of each staircase that awaits you. The main staircase is the least likely in avoiding the Gold Cloaks, as a couple of pairs take position in the main entrance to the underground cavern.
How do you bring yourselves back into visibility in your return?
Damn! thinks Mortimer, resisting the urge to kick the Obsidian Dome before him. Too bad it's not a scry device, but I bet I *could* break it...
"Let's sneak back while our invisibility holds and hope we weren't missed."
Mortimer disappointedly grunts in agreement.
"Let's hope the arena sees another day. I really need to prepare better for that battle."
"Aye, we all do. Everyone -- let's check the roster to see who we're up against, and together devise a strategy to use as a team to defeat them."
On the more discrete approach to the Coenoby, Mortimer suggests. "Maybe if we invisibly break toward the south and east, we can use the cave pillars to conceal our-visible-selves from all of the guards when we drop the invisibility sphere."
He scratches the back of his head.
"...then maybe we can disperse, space our timing and slowly trickle back one by one out from different directions back to our room."
"Aye, we all do. Everyone -- let's check the roster to see who we're up against, and together devise a strategy to use as a team to defeat them."
"Oh yes, that will be fun!" Solrisa smiles prettily at Mortimer, happy the man said 'defeat' and not 'kill' or 'murder' or 'brutalize'.
Ascaria looks to where Mort gestures, "That makes sense to me. I'll stay there the longest, and sketch something along the wall there. Maybe the texture of the stone."
He moves to the pillar when the group is ready, and stays behind as the others disperse. When he's done with his sketch, he leaves as well, and tries to take note of anyone who may have spotted them.
"Good then, let's do it that way." Eidi starts walking to behind the columns "I can hold there until the last one to make sure you are covered there by invisibility. In fact we only need once to open our room's door"
"Oh yes, that will be fun!" Solrisa smiles prettily at Mortimer, happy the man said 'defeat' and not 'kill' or 'murder' or 'brutalize'.
Mortimer grins back at Solrisa and nods once, a gleam in his eye.
He suggests tidying up a little (at least to clean up the worst of the wormy goo) with Prestidigitation.
"... if that's possible -- we can't look too clean I suppose.
Once behind the pillar, Mortimer slowly starts breaking away from the group toward the stream.
Mort's Agenda:
1.) Stroll across the stream and casually try and grab a fish as he passes.
If he succeeds. he'll plant a quick kiss on the side of its head and throw it back into the stream.
2.) Slowly wander over to take a gander inside the room that was previously the Cyclops'.
3.) Have a look-see at the Roster.
"Maybe if we invisibly break toward the south and east, we can use the cave pillars to conceal our-visible-selves from all of the guards when we drop the invisibility sphere."
"We need to watch that bedroom door to make sure we are not exposed by that group, if they are hanging out in there."
Eri will tarry with Ascaria and watch him draw as he makes sure no one bothers him as he draws.
The group reassimilates to the climate and atmosphere of the Coenoby, taking the southern approach. The Devout and Preaching and Bleaching are enjoying a casual afternoon repast, as is Auric, who is sitting alone, eating and reading a book.
Blood of the Serpent doesn't immediately catch your eye, in any of the observable Coenoby, while Ascaria sketches away. The Gold Cloaks keep up their conversations, each in their own stations. Khellek is in his room, enjoying his own peace and quiet. No guards are currently posted
Lastly, when you finally come free of your cloaking and eyeball your own bedroom, Drusfan is standing in the doorway. From his body language, it appears that he's holding an animated discussion with someone in the interior of said bedroom.
The announcement board has not been changed as of yet.
The Cyclops' room is stripped down, new sheets laid out on the mattress, but the beds are not made. Nothing else of interest jumps out at you.
Mortimer tries to ascertain what the fuss might be about as he approaches.
"Is there a problem?" he ask sternly from behind Drusfan, annoyed by the Dwarf occupying the doorway.
Drusfan looks over his shoulder, just enough to bring Mortimer into helm's view. Beyond the doorway, in one of the beds, is Pharbol, splayed across the sheets, with his feet on the wall.
Drusfan speaks up. "Heeey. You're back! Look, Pharbol, they're back." Pharbol turns in bed, trying to get a good look from his upside down position. "So they are. Isn't that interesting, Drusfan. Didn't you just go patrolling for them?" Drusfan nods. "Yeah, they had some freshly baked cookies, right out of the oven. Didn't want you to miss out, as they were going fast." Pharbol chirps. "A shame, though, as they were only good while they were warm. Had to eat them ourselves, before they got cold." The bed dwarf makes a point of patting the bed, demonstrating the crumbs scattered about, as they bounce into the air about him.
"Where'd you get off to?"
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"Heeeey.... interesting ... Yeah ... cookies ... Where'd you get off to?"
Mortimer tries to keep his patience as the Dwarves blather. Cookies? Cold? Whaaa? How old are these guys?
"Oh, get out of our space. We don't have time for this nonsense."
He moves into the room and starts removing the sheets from the bed Pharbol is on, not bothering to wait for him to
vacate the bed before doing so.
If Pharbol attempts to get out of the way at all, Mortimer lets him go. Otherwise, he bundles the Dwarf up in the
soiled bedsheets and hands it to the Laundry Crew, explaining that it needs to be washed.
He then helps himself to the fresh sheets from the room previously occupied by the Cyclops.
"Cookies? There were cookies!?" Solrisa looks bright and excited at the mention of fresh cookies. She moves over to look over the dwarf, eyes full of hope.
"Are you sure they are all gone?" Solrisa smiles broadly, hoping for a cookie.
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Pharbol rolls off the bed, and onto his feet, but not before his spiked armor manages to mangle the sheet holier from Mort's brute move. "Listen to him growl, Drusfan. You'd think he was trying to have his way." "Yeh, he's never been all that entertaining a conversationalist." "More a mook of action." "Mook, heh heh. Yeah."
The dwarves trade knowing looks, before entertaining the maiden's words.
"Are you sure they are all gone?"
Drusfan smiles. "I might have seen Pharbol drop one over the side of the bed. Why don't you bend over, and take a look? Could have been the last one, sure."
...
The day draws closer to night, with various groups coming and going from the southeast hallway, at turns. The dinner rolls out, and the six remaining Legios are treated to barrels of fresh crab and lobster, which are selected, then tossed into roiling cauldrons to complete the meat's cooking. Some of the gladiators play with their uncooked food, leading to fingers and noses getting pinched, before the crustaceans are seen to their deaths.
Conversation turns to the events of the day, in the Catafalque. Some of the guards recount various demonstrations of magical prowess, including the summoning and banishment of various lesser demons, which offered all form of vocabularious venom for having been ripped away from their tasks, to be put on display as they were. Several rounds of battles with beasts, another performance a play in-the-round, which kissed at the toes of the Queen in its portrayal of the ascendance of House Thrune in the most flattering and respectful ways.
Another feast for the eyes was the public execution of fifty males, halfling, man and half-orc. Special magics raised to protect the audience, the men all released to the arena floor, before a collective screech through the crowd as a single wendigo was released... The guards look back and forth to each other, small suppressed shudders evident on the ones who witnessed it.
The last event was the obligatory Slaying of the Dragon. Several nobles of Egorian, fully armored and magically protected, taking a pre-victory lap, while a magnificent specimen of copper dragon was brought to the center of the arena. Muzzled, its wings were fully extended, and spiked to the ground, allowing the nobles the safety required to close the distance. Each noble was given a chance to hack a wing from the dragon, single strike only. The crowds' cheers would wax, then wane, as it took several tries to finally sever the copper's appendage. The noble lucky enough to 'see it through' was awarded the wing itself. Once both wings were removed, the two nobles in possession of the wings were escorted from arena. The dragon was then bled in several sites by magical weaponry which caused its blood to continue flowing. The remaining nobles took their positions next, as the muzzled dragon was finally released from its spikes and chains. Understandably enraged at its treatment, the dragon fought valiantly to subdue its many aggressors. Unfortunately, its bleeding, combined with several of the nobles being competent warriors, brought the beast down. Several surrogates awaited the next body part hewed from the carcass, as the nobles each argued for their due, before conceding or acceding to trophy. The nobles all drank of its blood, while the surrogates bore away the horns, tongue, head, claws, scales, tail...
The gold cloaks telling the tale of the Slaying seem to genuinely admire the participants, as do several of the Devout gladiators. Pitch Blade snorts a lot, as they wouldn't have their quarry gagged and bound for it. Blood of the Serpent seem to share the same revery for the Slaying as the Gold Cloaks, but they also share the sense that there could be more honor in the ceremony.
The evening passes uneventfully, and none of the Sponsors return on the Second Day of the Gauntlet.
Eidi looks at the dwarves desperately tired. His face does light up though at the magical words "Cookies you said?" and so fast he sees the cookie on the bed he casts a prestidigitation cantrip and attempts to make the cookie quickly fly over to his hand, ultimately smiling back at Solrisa and the dwarf if he succeeds.
---------------------------------------------
The elder half-elf looks concerned as the prisoners are attacked by a wendigo "Pile of irresponsibles... they do not even understand the forces they play with"
Eidi becomes silent as the copper dragon is scarified, both taken by the beauty of the beast and the shock of the cruelty. "That's enough" seeing much more he can hold, he stands up and walks back to the private area "I will be preparing my spells for tomorrow. It promises to be an epic fight"
Ascaria marks that the teams all seem to support the killing of such a noble beast, and decides perhaps they aren't worthy opponents after all. He's ready to be done with the whole damn business - once they finish off the evil down below and, hopefully, the mastermind behind these horrid spectacles.
Glad I'm from the country, where we still have a little respect.
Full from dinner, he eventually rejoins the group in their rooms and tries to get to sleep early so as to be well prepared for the morrow.
"I hope we face those damn dwarves tomorrow. Be nice to put them in their place." he mumbles before falling asleep.
Another feast for the eyes was the public execution of fifty males, halfling, man and half-orc. Special magics raised to protect the audience, the men all released to the arena floor, before a collective screech through the crowd as a single wendigo was released...
Solrisa will accept the cookie from Eidi (if it happens) with a smile. If the cookie is a lie, then no smile will be offered.
Solrisa will be quite distraught over the stories of the wendigo, then again about the brass dragon. The spectacle has caused her to reevaluate her priorities a bit...gone was the worry about the big bad black wurm dragon, and now as much more focused on winning, then killing the cause/leader of the combats.
Her anger lasts at least 10 minutes, but then Solrisa is smiling again, focusing on happy thoughts and prepping her mind for the combats to come. She will shine her armor and sharpen her swords in preparation.
When the Wendigo story is recited, Mort finds himself murmurring aloud at the description of the horrific tale.
"What in the Hells..." He finds himself inexplicably standing/sitting nearly on top of Solrisa.
He turns away and nearly goes completely fetal when the Dragon Subject is brought up.
Why? Why again are we here? He stops hugging himself to clench his fists, a look of resolution crossing his face. Because we have to try and stop what Evil we can...
He arises, and retires to the Outcast's room.
"I will be preparing my spells for tomorrow. It promises to be an epic fight"
"OH!"right... we have to win... to stay... to fight evil another day... "What are you -- I mean -- shall we plan then? I doubt it's up, but I'll go look."
He wanders back out into the common area before retiring-retiring to see if the roster has been updated
When the story of the dragon is relayed Eri goes quiet and his mouth opens wider as it unfolds. He looks like he has something to say but simply shuts his mouth and shakes his head.
"Let's get these muthers."
Tynan attempts to present an uninterested face as the tales of the arena are shared, but inwardly feels sickened by the foul activities.
What have we gotten ourselves into...
"Sorry..."
Solrisa nods, her face ensaddened momentarily, then she lets it go.
"Yes, I will do what I can do, but I cannot fix everything. But there is now another reason that I follow the Dragon...so that things like this do not happen. Loris now has a second reason for death. My sword will be the one that ends him."
Solrisa breathes deep, acknowledging that she is too late to do anything and thinks about cookies. She smiles brightly.
The cookie is indeed a lie, as nothing of Eidi's magic finds purchase in tangible baked good behind the bed. The dwarves don't fully understand the half-elf's magic, but they certainly enjoy the empty gesture, as both of them clap Eidi on the shoulder as they exit the room.
For the rest of the evening, Mortimer finds no change in the roster, as it remains a testament to the Day 1's escapades.
...
The morning of Day 3 comes, and the activity of the day is a replay of Day 2 as it began. Casual stirrings from the other Legios, until it becomes apparent that the roster has finally been updated.
12th Hour
Preaching and Bleaching
v
The Devout
14th Hour
Artists and Outcasts
v
Pitch Blade
16th Hour
Blood of the Serpent
v
Auric's Warband
The dwarves don't bother looking over the board. Perhaps they had prior knowledge of the line-up. Preaching and Bleaching begin to posture in The Devout's direction, who give several intimidating grunts and yowls in response. Blood of the Serpent and Auric and Khellek largely ignore each other.
Your night's fast is broken by an assortment of eggs, born by both strange and mundane creatures. Several of the eggs bear the simple protein and fat you've come to expect from chickens, while others yield half-formed embryos that can be consumed like a softshell crab, as the bones have yet to have fully formed. The standard fare is certainly available, too, though the cook appears quite happy to offer such exotic fare.
Soon enough, the Sponsors arrive. Ekaym greets you all warmly, a small bag slung over his shoulder, only after he himself reviews the pairings on the board. "Day 3, so soon! And you drew the dwarves. Suppose that's better than Auric and his. Did you sleep well? Are you ready for what is to come?" For his words, you can tell that his eyes look for answers to questions he's avoiding asking.
Soon enough, the Sponsors arrive. Ekaym greets you all warmly, a small bag slung over his shoulder, only after he himself reviews the pairings on the board. "Day 3, so soon! And you drew the dwarves. Suppose that's better than Auric and his. Did you sleep well? Are you ready for what is to come?" For his words, you can tell that his eyes look for answers to questions he's avoiding asking.
Now that it’s come to it, Ascaria has trouble looking in Ekaym’s eyes as well. ”We’re ready for what’s to come. And ready for what must be done. A whole other matter.” he says levelly. He waits for Eri to include Ekaym in the Message before continuing.
When he does, he lowers his voice and whispers, ”We did manage to do some searching yesterday and found much that concerns us, and two things that concern you. First, and this is important, we need help with magics to destroy a wall of force. Eidi can tell you exactly what we need and Mort here has a club that should fetch a good price to help pay for it. If the costs are higher, we hope you’ll cover it and we’ll pay you back when we get out of here.”
He leans in and takes out a pouch. He slides it over to Ekaym with a sorrowful look, ”More importantly, we found Lahaka. I’m sorry. Uh, well, she had been turned into an undead abomination. We had to destroy her. I’m so sorry.” He holds the mans hands and places the pouch in them, ”This is her hand, it’s the best we could do. Perhaps you can Resurrect her?” he suggests hopefully, knowing that such a cost would be outside the realm of all but the wealthiest men.
He waits unhappily for the emotion that's sure to come.
Ekaym smiles graciously as he accepts Ascaria's 'gift'. He holds still for a moment, then nods, and places the pouch into a deep pocket along his leg.
For having taken Ekaym's hands in yours, you might have gained a physical sense of his emotions- sweat on his palms, tension in his hands' muscles, but you have nothing of the sort. Ekaym took Lahaka's hand from you as calmly as he would in accepting a pastry he had no intention of eating.
"Where are my manners? I come bearing gifts!" He brings his bag off his shoulder, and opens it. In a couple of ways, it reminds you of the attache case you once possessed yourselves.
For Eri, an ioun stone, colored dusty rose, as well as two scrolls .
For Solrisa, a potion as blue as the sky, swirled as if by cloud.
For Mortimer, a set of four masterwork throwing axes.
"I consider you all victors here. You have succeeded where I could not, and I could not be more grateful. My prestige has already risen simply from your Day 1 victory. Should I choose to continue my involvement with the Gauntlet, my position is guaranteed as well as the other Sponsors who have advanced their Legios. Will you press on here, or have you met your own expectations?"
Ascaria removes his hands from Ekaym and wonders about the man. Heart of stone that one. He worries a while about what holding in that much emotion must do to a person, but lets it go as they have troubles of their own.
"Yes Ekaym, we mean to continue on. We need to punish the dwarves for many reasons, and we need those scrolls as soon as you can. Would it be possible to visit us after our win?"
He nods to Eri in agreement.
Solrisa claps her hands with glee as Ekaym offers Sol the potion. "OH! I've always wanted one of these!" Solrisa considers drinking the potion on the spot, but eventually forces the potion into her pouch...and out of sight and out of mind.
"Thank you, Ekaym!" Solrisa offers a hug to the man, then steps away, wondering if she should mention the zombie below and what they found.
"Ascaria, are we going to talk about what we learned?" Sol asks, making he pointy-down,pointy-down gesture, then pantomimes like she's dead and walks with stiff limbs.
Solrisa looks to be sure Ascaria understood what she meant. She smiles, trying to help.
"We need a disintegrate scroll Ekyam. It's better if we do not give details as we cannot be totally sure the communications are private here" he looks around like expecting to see an invisible creature around.
"Dwarves, ok. Do we know anything about them? It is the moment to set a main strategy if we do know how they do fight"
"Ascaria, are we going to talk about what we learned?" Sol asks, making he pointy-down,pointy-down gesture, then pantomimes like she's dead and walks with stiff limbs.
Solrisa looks to be sure Ascaria understood what she meant. She smiles, trying to help.
He shakes his head, "No Sol, Eidi is right, there may be eyes and ears upon us even now. We can give a full report when we're done here."
He thinks a moment, and looks to Ekaym and his case, he says "Long live Thrune." while watching the case carefully for a possible hidden compartment to open up...
If nothing happens, he looks somewhat crestfallen and mumbles something about eavesdroppers and wanting them to hear what they want to hear.
If, however, he hears a click from within the bag, he asks Ekaym, "Did you do some service for Thrune? That's quite an impressive satchel you have there."
Mortimer eyes Ekaym's acceptance of his dead sister's zombified hand curiously. Ah. The "brave" face. Probably doesn't want to have a melt down here, of all places...
Then he eyes the attache case with greater curiosity. ... Have I seen this before?
Mort then silently eyes Ekaym with even greater curiosity while he speaks with the others, as if hoping some manner of the man's aspect could trigger his memory.
"Long live Thrune."
He scowls in confusion at Ascaria, until the gears in his brain engage.
Oooh, right! The Imp!
Mortimer looks over the throwing axes.
He looks Ekaym in the eye. "Oh, the axes are very nice, very high quality, but unfortunately you see -- I can't use them. I meant I needed something I could throw," he says narrowing his eyes and dropping his voice a register. He looks from Ekaym's eyes to the attache case back to Ekaym's eyes.
"Dwarves, ok. Do we know anything about them? It is the moment to set a main strategy if we do know how they do fight"
"They don't like really tall people, and like to toy with their opponents. If I recall, the Barbarians have some speed and power behind their moves."
"Yes Ekaym, we mean to continue on. We need to punish the dwarves for many reasons, and we need those scrolls as soon as you can. Would it be possible to visit us after our win?"
"We need a disintegrate scroll Ekyam. It's better if we do not give details as we cannot be totally sure the communications are private here."
Ekaym nods, as he tries to merge the gnome's and half-elf's request as the same thing. "So. One scroll of Disintegrate? I'll see what I can do. Should you win again, I will absolutely be permitted to return tomorrow."
No need, even for your limited sight. Beyond the opening of the attache case is an evidently larger space, which can house much larger items the diplomat might bear back and forth on his travels.
"Oh, the axes are very nice, very high quality, but unfortunately you see -- I can't use them. I meant I needed something I could throw."
Ekaym takes the throwing axes back, with a courteous nod. "Sorry for that. I must have misunderstood your needs. Perhaps if you can be explicit with any supplies, I won't fail you a second time."
From what you've gathered about the dwarves, they attacked with matching blades, mighty axes able to split a cyclops skull accurately enough to avoid slicing the globe of the eye. They did not use throwing axes.
As it gets closer to the 14th hour (and assuming things are on time), Solrisa begins her final girding. She girds her loins, she girds her sleeves, she girds her hair. She is up and girding everything about her. Then she girds her armor, ensuring a good fit.
She checks her sword one final time. Then her other sword. Then her morningstar. Then her bow and arrows. She checks her pouch of funsies: potions of fun, and things she might need. She polishes the Dragon's symbol that hangs around her neck.
As it gets even closer to go time, she will magic up.
She smiles at everyone; she is very excited and ready to fight.
Ascaria is a little uneasy, but decides to continue trusting Ekaym, at least for now. After all, he really has no choice.
He grins and says, "Excellent. Then we'll beat these damnable dwarves into submission and we'll see you, and the scroll, then."
When Ekaym is ready to go, he pats the man on the hand (all he can reach really), and suggests, "They'll not get away with this."
He returns to the group and considers his approach to the dwarves. "I think we should do as we did before. Prepare on our way up, stick close if we can for healing, and confront them head on. It's just one on one this time, so we don't have to worry about others ganging up on us. Just those damn axes."
In the morning, as usual, he casts Magic Vestment on his buckler. He checks the life links, and makes ready to ascend when he'll cast a myriad of other preparatory spells.
As the fighting gets really really close, Solrisa begins to prepare. She stands quite close to Ascaria, her shield in hand. She smiles hopefully.
Shield Other (9 hours, Ascaria)
Magic Vestment (9 hours, Blue Light Special Shield, +2)
+2 sword and merciful (+1d6, nonlethal)
Barkskin (+2 to AC, 30 minutes)
"Sorry for that. I must have misunderstood your needs. Perhaps if you can be explicit with any supplies, I won't fail you a second time."
Mortimer eyes Ekaym warily at first, but then as Ekaym's response chases the suspicious winds from Mortimer's vague insinuation sail, Mortimer's gaze softens and he claps the man gently on the shoulder.
"Nevermind 'throwables'. Maybe if you run into some tanglefoot bags or a Potion of Cat's Grace, that would be keen."
He continues, along a possible ludicrous strategy. "It's too late now, but maybe if we had a big board -- something the size of a door -- one of us could neutralize, or severely interfere with the Dwarves' assualt if we could hit and stick it to the spiked armor. I bet that would entertain the crowd immensely, and slow down the dwarves for at least a little bit."
He eyes the tattered remains of the bedsheet Pharbol was laying upon.
"Or maybe if we had a big sponge, we could just roll the little bastards up into it..."
He wanders over to his pack to check over his equipment to prepare. He arms himself with a neatly folded top sheet.