Ivy chuckles as you lead her off on a patrol, "Well, the big news is like what you heard no doubt... High Priest Kragg came home to find a deep gnome preaching 'the jeweled glory's way' . Stranger was getting quite a cult going until Kragg revealed it was some mad dwarven god the fellow worshiped and exactly how full of Roth chips the fellow was. I'll give your oldest member credit, he can spin a shaming sermon but good. Now..." She scratches her chin, "One of Modnar's apprentices was using magic to discourage trouble makers, funny as he's a bit of a trouble maker himself. But I suppose they can tell you more of that," Ivy seems in a better mood than she was as the bitter outcast you first , "How are we adjusting? Mmm, pretty well, actually. Our last king may have died a hero, but he was, mother cave rest his soul, stupid. He was not a good leader. More work has been getting done with even half the council than ever was while he was here playing with toys. Folks know who to complain to. They know who handles what, and they realize it will get seen to, eventually. The dwarven way is working...which maybe why some of our youngsters seem eager to become as Dwarvish as possible much to the vexation of some elders. I know I'm acting as sort of the 'spy' for the council, but truth? There's not too much to spy on that I think you should worry about now. Not yet. I'm more worried for when trade and peace talks start. You can bet I'll be on my toes then."
It looks like recent construction and recent renewal, if anything, has driven wild animals further back. Tracking on stone is near impossible, but there are no signs of drow activity today. Despite her full opinion, Ivy knows how to gauge her voice and moves like a shadow. If there's anything around her to disturb, she wouldn't be the one to trouble it and you're no slouch yourself.
"The Kobold may yet be trouble, nobody trusts his people... they're some of our oldest enemies even if 'Runt' doesn't remember. I don't mean to be rude, but if you liberate the dwarven slaves from the drow...which you should, what are you going to do with any kobold slaves? They breed like cragvoles. Set em loose, and within twenty years we'll have an army of the evil bastards."
"Lady Miatha, it appears that my colleagues and I will be heading back to the Fungal Jungle soon. During my absence, I will prepare my students accordingly, but I wanted to mention something about their upcoming lessons.
"Certainly, good sir," Miatha gets you a drink as you talk.
"A couple of the apprentices are, in my estimation, ready to move beyond the study of cantrips and attempt more complicated spells. I just wanted to give someone respected advance notice should clouds of mist begin emerging from the lecture hall without warning. Obscuring mist is the least hazardous spell I could come up with for their first attempt."
"Oh my, already?" Miatha is impressed, "Your own prowess must be growing then. I know you worry about your being new to the craft, but I predict at this rate you maybe become quite the force within magical circles. Just promise me if you ever found an academy that deep gnomes will have a chance to attend side by side with the dwarven wizards in training." She smiles, "In the mean time, I'll keep an eye open."
"Oh my, already?" Miatha is impressed, "Your own prowess must be growing then. I know you worry about your being new to the craft, but I predict at this rate you maybe become quite the force within magical circles. Just promise me if you ever found an academy that deep gnomes will have a chance to attend side by side with the dwarven wizards in training." She smiles, "In the mean time, I'll keep an eye open."
Modnar returns the smile at Miatha's compliment. "Perhaps. The students' progress is also expedited by my own specialization, as there are two schools of magic for which I cannot prepare them. Thank the Powers that I did not neglect illusion, as that would clash with the innate talents of the svirfneblin.
The wizard thoughtfully pauses while taking in a couple of spoonfuls of stew. "In truth, only two of the apprentices are doing more than mere prestidigitation. Frelin-sits-in-back shows a remarkable knack for the Art; I pray that he learns the discipline to use it properly. As for Rigini-nose-to-the-stone . . ." Modnar chuckles slightly before continuing, "My father would have called her a 'grinder'. She overreaches her natural aptitude by sheer effort and force of will. For each of them, continuing to pound at cantrips is meaningless -- just for different reasons."
Modnar finishes his stew. "Excellent as always, my lady. And I promise you now that any academy founded by Archmage Modnar of Clan Goldrune will welcome all with the wherewithal to learn!" He winks as he rises from the table.
I know I'm acting as sort of the 'spy' for the council, but truth? There's not too much to spy on that I think you should worry about now. Not yet. I'm more worried for when trade and peace talks start. You can bet I'll be on my toes then."
"Too true, yet the quiet times like this are when you need to get to know the 'people' who will be coming to these diplomatic meetings, both the Xan and Skis'raal scouts here will talk with you, as you have skills with which they are accustomed. Get to know them now and later when the talks are in progress you may notice if they are uncomfortable with some situation, or hiding something as well. You should talk with Hannarr, he is better at the diplomacy stuff, Kneecapper handles most of my diplomacy needs." He ends with a grin.
"The Kobold may yet be trouble, nobody trusts his people... they're some of our oldest enemies even if 'Runt' doesn't remember. I don't mean to be rude, but if you liberate the dwarven slaves from the drow...which you should, what are you going to do with any kobold slaves? They breed like cragvoles. Set em loose, and within twenty years we'll have an army of the evil bastards."
Running on for a little bit, Ulfgar doesn't answer her directly but she can hear him say I wish I knew, I wish I knew. for while Runt was growing on him, just one kobold was trouble and a whole clan of them well who knows. Even he'd admitted the drow purged their number ever so often because of the ability to breed like rabbits....
Modnar finishes his stew. "Excellent as always, my lady. And I promise you now that any academy founded by Archmage Modnar of Clan Goldrune will welcome all with the wherewithal to learn!" He winks as he rises from the table.
Miatha smiles at that and wishes you well.
...............
"Too true, yet the quiet times like this are when you need to get to know the 'people' who will be coming to these diplomatic meetings, both the Xan and Skis'raal scouts here will talk with you, as you have skills with which they are accustomed. Get to know them now and later when the talks are in progress you may notice if they are uncomfortable with some situation, or hiding something as well. You should talk with Hannarr, he is better at the diplomacy stuff, Kneecapper handles most of my diplomacy needs." He ends with a grin.
"I'll let you have the last baked lizard tongue then whenever delicacies are served," Ivy says eying the weapon, "Some debates aren't worth it." An amused look.
...............
A day or two to rest and do your council duties passes, and a new morning, if this roofed world can be said to have a morning, arrives as you gather ready to begin your exploration.
Hannarr is eager to be off. He looks over the expedition: Runt the kobold fidgeting from foot to foot; Miku the Xan, wide eyed and curious - at least that's how Hannarr interpreted him - Fungal facial features were rather hard to read; The two Skis'raal scouts, their multi-facetted eyes even harder to read than the Xan's; A dozen or so deep gnomes, their pack lizards laden down with building supplies; and of course the Dwarves. A motley crew to be sure, but one that fills him with pride and hope.
He straightened new floppy, droopy gnome-style cap, and caught the sidelong look form Ulfgar at his odd choice of head gear. Counter-culture he explained. What better way to counter cultural contamination than by enforcing the viability of our host's own cultural norms by showing that we, the objects of their adoration and source of said contamination, value their indigenous garb. Hannarr explains roundly, then adds Hem, and it keeps that damned orange fungus dust out of my ears.
The tale of how Anka retrieved her axe will be one for the ages...
Shaking her head at Dam Stoneminder's insistence the Family claim no 'permanent' abode up here so near the sky, Anka set one foot before the other as she descended the stairs to share the news. "They are doing it," she prefaces, "the Great Houses have committed to find and reclaim Dammerhall..."
"We knew they would. It was obvious when you spoke of the find." Her Grandmother's voice is weak & thin, thready with too many decades & not enough hope. "The signs have been there, we have pointed then out to you-"
"The signs," Anka interjected in the hopes that this would circumvent yet another night-long lecture about her 'Destiny', "never pointed to any such thing, they certainly didn't point to-"
"" Anka's Mother glowers fit to smelt her daughter down to slag. "The signs are clear to those with eyes to see. 'A daughter of our house would be born, untainted by the light, in whom the Martial & the altes Blut would twine as of old..." Her eyes shine with the twin lights of fervor & judgement.
"Nothing you haven't told me time & time again, mother..." Anka growls, her own temper increasing as once more the old arguments rise.
"No," the Stoneminder Matriarch brings her own considerable will to bear once more, "we kept our counsel in the hopes that the fullness of time would show you the truth. Heh," she wheezes, pain & grim humor sifted together, "time has it's own scema it seems. 'The daughter's womb will quicken no seed, for she is doomed to be mother only to our House. Her only husband our honor, our Destiny her only legacy.'" Visage softening in empathy with her granddaughter's fresh pain, the venerable woman continues. "We die by hours, here in sky. Our People, our culture, our families. Take us home, daughter of my daughter. In the deep, in the dark, you will find who was lost to us. Together, you will accomplish what neither can do alone."
Travel back, with guides to aid you speeds things up, but a week into the journey, Anka notices something in the distance....
A ring of great and towering red mushrooms, tall as oaks, as red as blood, and oddly familiar...
No...
Not...not possible. Fevre dreams, swallowing Mother & Grandmother's stories. It can't possibly be real? My 'promised spouse'? Damn you Mother! And Damn me for listening.
As the company make camp for the night, Anka claims Final Watch. Having a remaining sorcerous servant prepared, she contemplates an undoubtedly foolish plan as her comrades sleep. Finally resolved, she draws out pen & parchment, hastily scrawling a missive before calling forth the will-less entity of minor forces. "When you feel the tether weakening, you will awaken that one," pointing to Dolgrin's slumbering form, "you will give him this." Presenting the rolled scroll, Anka shoulders her gear before cautiously making her way beyond the gathered stones of the camp.
No turning back now, it wouldn't do to keep my 'spouse' waiting...
Our paths must part for a time. I carry neither malice, nor deceit for you or the rest of our company, but just as Leadership is a burden you must bear alone, this is mine. Should I prove equal to this task, we shall meet again in this life. Should I not, a ask only that you not judge me too harshly in your thoughts or prayers. Dammerhall has been my family's goal for far longer than I was leave to share with you and for that obfuscation I do apologize.'
As the caravan comes together and prepares to leave, Ulfgar takes one last look around, while not a dwarven settlement, the place was growing on him. The gnomes had just as much pride as some dwarves he knew Hmm where has Runt gotten himself off to..." He says to himself while doing a head count.
Checking with both Miku and Tuvax, They were ready to go, between the three scouts they would cycle the point position amongst themselves with the lead scout falling to the side each hour and becoming the rearguard as they walked. So that a fresh set of eyes would be before them and also their rear was protected from attacks on the caravan as they moved.
Ahh there he is! Runt!, put it back...yes that pie is delicious and I intend to see everyone has a chance to enjoy it tonight at supper." Shaking his head once more at the audacity of the kobold.
Kragg checked his pack thrice and it all seemed stowed and ready. They would be gone for a while this time nad he wanted to be adequately prepared. Food stuffs that would keep for a fort night were plentiful but beyond that they might have to worry about finding supplies. If he was stronger in the faith and had more of Zuth's blessings then he might be able to provide for them all each day but it was not to be. Part ofhim yearned for such closeness to Zuth yet the other hald of him scolded him for thinking too highly of himself to warrant such a position. It was always difficult to temper ones hopes and aspirations with humility. Who knew the future but the gods so it was a pointless exercise to contemplate at the current time.
In other matters at hand both his acolytes were busy and they would keep the forge going along with being spiritual reminders of what seeds he had sown in the faith. Beyond that they were in Zuth's hands.
Looking ahead as the caravan set out he noticed the presence of a solitary figure entering the mushroom fields near the ring of defensice lights on the outskirts of the city. Pointing them out to the others it wasn't long before he recognized the figure as Anka. Moving forward he called out to her. By Zuth's full cups I thought you lost. When the others came back without you I assumed the worse. Perfect timeing as we are just ready to head out again. Come join us as there will be refreshment with the caravan and you can ease yourself and fill us in on your adventures.
Kragg then takes the opportunity to check her over for wounds and prepares to aid her if necessary calling on Zuth's blessings to fill his stein to give to her.
Hannar's droopy gnome style cap certainly caught the eyes of some deep gnomes as he went by. Younger sniverneblin were surprised, Older ones gave some pleased looks.
"I do nothing!" Runt lies, but puts things back.
Miku observes the handling of Runt with some amusement, and says to Ulfgar, "You are are good hunter, yet folks keep expecting you to herd."
Even Tuvix snickers at that.
Looking ahead as the caravan set out he noticed the presence of a solitary figure entering the mushroom fields near the ring of defensice lights on the outskirts of the city. Pointing them out to the others it wasn't long before he recognized the figure as Anka. Moving forward he called out to her. By Zuth's full cups I thought you lost. When the others came back without you I assumed the worse. Perfect timeing as we are just ready to head out again. Come join us as there will be refreshment with the caravan and you can ease yourself and fill us in on your adventures.
Kragg then takes the opportunity to check her over for wounds and prepares to aid her if necessary calling on Zuth's blessings to fill his stein to give to her.
Others look up as Kragg announces the return of one of your own
Ulfgar smiles at Miku and Tuvix's good natured ribbing. "sometimes we have to live up to the decisions we made before. I cast my vote to let him live, so now it is at least partially my responsibility to make sure he avoids more trouble than most of his kind. Will you two be returning with us as we travel? I think Hannarr is wanting you to act as emissaries to your respective villages; at least in the interim until the true diplomatic parties arrive and you're both allowed to return to your former lives as a scout/hunter for your people." The ranger asks his counterparts looking to see if perhaps their kits were among the ones laid out in preparation.
At this point we say goodbye to Miku, dispatching him back to Xan with an invitation to a peace talk in Fastervault. Meanwhile we strike north to the site of Runt's mystery statue and rumors of our enslaved kin. At some point along the way, our Skis'Raall friends also depart with their own invitation.
As he waits for their reply everyone's attention is drawn to the outlying areas when the guardsmen's cries ring out, As it becomes apparent that the approaching individual is none other than their missing comrade in arms, the ranger hurries to meet Anka. "Lass, I'd a thought you to be nae more than a figment of my imagination, hadn't everyone else seen the same figment. It seems ye will be haven' a might bit of a story to tell over the campfire. Tis good to have ye back." He says first grasping her arms in a warrior's hand shake and then actually hugging her before remembering who he was and who she was. Backing off quickly with a simple"Welcome back"
Ulfgar, most of his life spent in the wilds, tries to remain aloof, having companions, but not making true friends quite as quickly. However that being said he's become quite attached to the group as a whole, from their resident wizard, a mouse in form but with a lion's heart. Their Bard, the diplomat and fount of knowledge. The good Cleric of Zuth, of course the spiritual guide for the group and ready supplier of mead. A Paladin, the sometimes stodgy but rock solid head of the group, always willing to take the fight to the enemy. But Anka, as quick and powerful as a spring storm, full of beauty and danger all in one, he'd realized as she came back into sight he's missed her much as his own kin left far above on the surface. He felt a kinship and would look forward to her standing in battle again.
As the company nears her, the first thing you see is drill, again & again Anka moves from block, to strike, to parry, to that odd... hitch you have come to recognize as her most common defense while setting up a spell; before once more beginning some new sequence.
The second thing you notice; somewhere, at some point between when last you saw her & now, Anka has found another ax.
Tuvix greets Anka, "One is told you impressed our leader. She is not so easily impressed."
The ax in Anka's hand almost seems to hum for a moment, and then it speaks in Dwarvish, an older more formal dialect "Thy companions are not just of the people of the stone then, my wielder? So be it."
The kobold is so startled it scurries behind Ulfgar again, a default move.