Jorlitharr will not drink any alcohol purchased from the gold that was stolen from the drunk man.
"Defending ourselves is one thing but we may fuel anti-adventurer sentiment if we start robbing locals."
"I'm ready to head back into the mountain. I'm going to get Duggar ready and stash my gold."
Jorlitharr leaves carrying the drunken attacker to the temple.
Olias shrugs. "Suit yourself. Olek? Thravum? Let's drink!"
"Jorlitharr will not drink any alcohol purchased from the gold that was stolen from the drunk man."
"More fer me..."
Thravum stoops next to Olias and picks a couple of coins from the floor and hands them to the barmaid.
"Take one coin n' make mine some of that deepwagon ale, the good stuff. Take the other and pour one fer that daft bastard the next time he stumbles in- from me."
Thravum happily drains Jorlitharr's tankard after he leaves and looks at Olek and Olias-
"Like Dusty said- when do we leave? Dragons don't kill em'selfs."
"Jorlitharr will not drink any alcohol purchased from the gold that was stolen from the drunk man.""More fer me..."
Thravum stoops next to Olias and picks a couple of coins from the floor and hands them to the barmaid.
"Take one coin n' make mine some of that deepwagon ale, the good stuff. Take the other and pour one fer that daft bastard the next time he stumbles in- from me."
"Thattaboy!" Olias drinks a round with Thravum before heading back to his room to prepare for their next quest.
Jorlitharr will find a spot on the outskirts of town, and when he's reasonable sure he's alone, he'll use his magics to dig a hole 20ft deep or so, leaving his heavy stash of coins inside, then fill the hole back in. he'll do his best to obscure the fresh dirt afterwards.
He'll also find a place in town to purchase a harpoon, a grappling hook and a long and thick chain that's as long as possible.
Jorlitharr will find a spot on the outskirts of town, and when he's reasonable sure he's alone, he'll use his magics to dig a hole 20ft deep or so, leaving his heavy stash of coins inside, then fill the hole back in. he'll do his best to obscure the fresh dirt afterwards.
He'll also find a place in town to purchase a harpoon, a grappling hook and a long and thick chain that's as long as possible.
You find that "Kuln's Superior Outfitting and Dry Goods" has everything you need for supplies.
When you visit, you see young Rankin playing with fake flowers, arranging them in buckets and cups. The owner, a very old looking half orc named Grendar Kuln, thanks you profusely for returning his grandson to him.
"You will not be paying for any supplies here," Grendar tells you, shaking your hand. He motions around the shop. "Haven't had too many customers asking for supplies like a grappling hook and chains anyway. The mining business is drying up here. Old folks are too old to mine, too old to adapt. Young folks are living off their parents' gold and either farming or leaving." He sighs. "My gut tells me there is much more left to find in those mountain ranges. If famed dwarf Durgeddin made his forge there, surely he found bands of mithril and gold there..." He trails off. "We may never find out now. It's a shame, really. Lots of history in this town, and everyone is leaving. I'm glad that my Myranda isn't here to see it."
Thravum happily drains Jorlitharr's tankard after he leaves and looks at Olek and Olias-
"Like Dusty said- when do we leave? Dragons don't kill em'selfs."
Sighanna walks in and surveys the silent story of a dirty man on the floor, Thravum with many tankards, and Olek and Olias looking on. "Seems you three have been up to some... shenanigans!" she says, shaking her head slightly. "I hope he will be ok."
She orders a bowl of stew. "I'll be heading out in the morning with Featherhoof, a couple guards, and several refugees. Anyone want to come with us?" She leans in. "Or are you all going to tackle that dragon?"
"Sighanna, before you go..." Olias tells Sighanna about the boots of levitation he left behind in the caves. "I understand you wouldn't be able to accompany us, as you have your own affairs to attend to, but is there anything you would be able to offer that could remove a curse from an item? It would be most appreciated, and the boots could prove useful once we confront the dragon."
Olias tries to put on his most charming smile (but fails miserably).
Advantage roll!
"Sighanna, before you go..." Olias tells Sighanna about the boots of levitation he left behind in the caves. "I understand you wouldn't be able to accompany us, as you have your own affairs to attend to, but is there anything you would be able to offer that could remove a curse from an item? It would be most appreciated, and the boots could prove useful once we confront the dragon."
Olias tries to put on his most charming smile.
Sighanna listens intently. "What a dangerous curse! I have not yet unlocked the secrets of removing a curse or particular magic from an item, though I have begun studying the general details of such a spell." She thinks for a moment, then her eyes light up. "I believe I have something that might help! Wait here."
She leaves in a hurry and returns in just a couple minutes. She pulls out a thin wooden case from her pack and hands it to Olias. "This is a scroll of Dispel Magic. Your magical friend Oleksandr may be able to use this to remove the magic on the boots." She offers her hand for a goodbye shake. "Now I must prepare for tomorrow. Good luck! I hope I run into you again!"
Olias clasps his hand into Sighanna's. "Take care, my friend, and thank you!"
Olias seeks out Oleksandr to ask for his assistance in this matter...
Thravum sets out through the town in search of the bow with the strongest pull he can find.
"Need sumpthin that's strong enough to punch through dragon's skin. N'case he doesn't wanna stand still".
Oleksandr unrolls the scroll Olias brings to him and squints a bit, getting a feel for the flow of the words and symbols. He frowns, then smirks, then frowns again and looks back to Olias.
"It is true that this magic might release your boots, but some of these incantations and movements are very intricate. A little more so than I am currently confident in. I could try to use this scroll, but I could also fail, and then it is lost forever."
He takes a slow drag off of a long thin-stemmed wooden pipe and returns his eyes to the scroll. His eyes do not leave the parchment as he continues to talk to Olias,
"That is to say though, I am confident that I understand more than just the rudiments of how this sort of magic works. Given just a bit more time for my studies and some more, eh, more practical experiments, I do believe that I could transcribe this scroll into my spell book."
He returns his eyes back to Olias,
"If you allow me the time I would gladly then try to retrieve your boots. The gained knowledge is all the payment I would ask. I'm fairly sure they aren't going anywhere anytime soon."
"Although, if you think the boots are vital to the plan to deal with this dragon, then we can bring it to the party to decide."
Jorlitharr will find a spot on the outskirts of town, and when he's reasonable sure he's alone, he'll use his magics to dig a hole 20ft deep or so, leaving his heavy stash of coins inside, then fill the hole back in. he'll do his best to obscure the fresh dirt afterwards.
He'll also find a place in town to purchase a harpoon, a grappling hook and a long and thick chain that's as long as possible.
You find that "Kuln's Superior Outfitting and Dry Goods" has everything you need for supplies.
When you visit, you see young Rankin playing with fake flowers, arranging them in buckets and cups. The owner, a very old looking half orc named Grendar Kuln, thanks you profusely for returning his grandson to him.
"You will not be paying for any supplies here," Grendar tells you, shaking your hand. He motions around the shop. "Haven't had too many customers asking for supplies like a grappling hook and chains anyway. The mining business is drying up here. Old folks are too old to mine, too old to adapt. Young folks are living off their parents' gold and either farming or leaving." He sighs. "My gut tells me there is much more left to find in those mountain ranges. If famed dwarf Durgeddin made his forge there, surely he found bands of mithril and gold there..." He trails off. "We may never find out now. It's a shame, really. Lots of history in this town, and everyone is leaving. I'm glad that my Myranda isn't here to see it."
"Generations have been figuring these things out since the beginning of time Grendar! This town will do the same. The old folks just need to make sure their wisdom is there for the youth, for when they're old enough to listen. Besides, with these tunnels being reopened, who know's what jobs and opportunities will open up. The roads are getting safer too now that the Guild has grown again.
Jorlitharr speaks as he gathers supplies, awkwardly trying to carry too much and dropping a few things."He finally comes to the counter with a jar of pickles, 50ft of rope, a hammer, pitons, 75ft of chain, a grappling hook and the studiest looking harpoon he has. If there's no harpoons to be found he'll look around for a hefty speak or at the very least a fencepost.
"You might be having a lot of folks down here looking to buy supplies or even settle down, you have a lot to offer! Why there was already a fella I met over the Griffin's Nest that works for a museum, he was very interested in some of those artifacts. Maybe you could convince a crew of these young folks about it and maybe they'll use their parents money to pick up their spelunking supplies here."
Thravum sets out through the town in search of the bow with the strongest pull he can find.
"Need sumpthin that's strong enough to punch through dragon's skin. N'case he doesn't wanna stand still".
As you explore the town you don't see a blacksmith shop or armory.
You know Kuln's Superior Outfitting and Dry Goods General Store has a plethora of rope, hooks, shovels, and dry goods. You don't specifically see weapons from the limited view peering through the windows, but there seem to be such a variety of tools that it might be worth investigating more.
You also notice that the town guard use crossbows. You can easily decipher that the guard rotates every six hours; the incoming guard marches from town hall straight to the guard tower at the eastern gate and a bell is rung as the outgoing guard marches to town hall. Once on duty at the guard tower, the guards open and shut the gates and most will chat with anyone who inquires of them.
"Generations have been figuring these things out since the beginning of time Grendar! This town will do the same. The old folks just need to make sure their wisdom is there for the youth, for when they're old enough to listen. Besides, with these tunnels being reopened, who know's what jobs and opportunities will open up. The roads are getting safer too now that the Guild has grown again. ...
Grendar starts packing up some of the smaller items in burlap bags. He throws in a couple more jars of pickles. "You give me hope!" he comments, "That is a good idea to go look for more artifacts and weapons in the mountain." He wraps another jar of pickles in burlap and secures it with twine. "Well, after the dragon has been taken care of, that is. I saw it flying the other day. What a magnificently terrifying beast! You and your colleagues are very brave to take it on. But you are helping this town so much by clearing out the mountains. I think you are right and this could be a turning point for our young people."
He think briefly after your last statement. "Can you describe that fellow from the museum? I'd very much like to speak with him. I could have Rankin go and find him for me."
He pulls out jars of more food, including pickled eggs, pickled fish, and dry brown meat wrapped in cloth. "Would you care for any more food? I'd be happy to pack up some provisions for your group. Unfortunately if you'd like any ale or the like you'll have to ask Sarel at the Griffon's Nest."
"Generations have been figuring these things out since the beginning of time Grendar! This town will do the same. The old folks just need to make sure their wisdom is there for the youth, for when they're old enough to listen. Besides, with these tunnels being reopened, who know's what jobs and opportunities will open up. The roads are getting safer too now that the Guild has grown again. ...
Grendar starts packing up some of the smaller items in burlap bags. He throws in a couple more jars of pickles. "You give me hope!" he comments, "That is a good idea to go look for more artifacts and weapons in the mountain." He wraps another jar of pickles in burlap and secures it with twine. "Well, after the dragon has been taken care of, that is. I saw it flying the other day. What a magnificently terrifying beast! You and your colleagues are very brave to take it on. But you are helping this town so much by clearing out the mountains. I think you are right and this could be a turning point for our young people."
He think briefly after your last statement. "Can you describe that fellow from the museum? I'd very much like to speak with him. I could have Rankin go and find him for me."
He pulls out jars of more food, including pickled eggs, pickled fish, and dry brown meat wrapped in cloth. "Would you care for any more food? I'd be happy to pack up some provisions for your group. Unfortunately if you'd like any ale or the like you'll have to ask Sarel at the Griffon's Nest."
"Try and find a blacksmith for this town, it'll help with business, specifically weapons and armor, you'll have people looking for weapons soon and I hear Dora is expanding the military here and they'll be likely to buy from the town directly instead of needing to order something from a traveling merchant...or you could purchase a stock from a traveling merchant. You could sell to hunters as well."
Jorlitharr will purchase a fencepost and borrow a hand drill. He'll bore a hole through the base and pase and knot the chain through. He'll attack the grappling hook to a shorter but separate length about 10 ft lower than the fencepost making an awkward "y-shape".
"Olek, we can wait. Thank you for offering to do this for me." Olias turns to the group. "I am ready to leave when you are."
"Try and find a blacksmith for this town, it'll help with business, specifically weapons and armor, you'll have people looking for weapons soon and I hear...
Grendar gives a little bow as Jorlitharr heads out. "Thank you for your suggestions! I'll be having a chat with Dara soon."
Rankin waves goodbye.
Sarel approaches those sitting at the bar. "Good evening to you all. Will you be setting out soon?" She pats Olias on the shoulder with a sly smirk. "Not just anyone would be confident enough to take on a dragon!"
Her smile widens. "Very impressive. Once you are ready to leave I'll have bags packed with fresh and dried rations for you. Enough for a week. Just let me know when you need it!"
She gives a wave, winking at Olias, then heads back behind the counter. On the way she steps over the prone body of the drunk man. "Looks like Gregor has been at the bottle again. Cora!" she calls to a woman behind the counter, "Call the guard." She bustles about the bar.
Sarel approaches those sitting at the bar. "Good evening to you all. Will you be setting out soon?" She pats Olias on the shoulder with a sly smirk. "Not just anyone would be confident enough to take on a dragon!"
Olias cocks an eyebrow and cracks a smile. "Well, not just anyone could solve the mystery of Rubrum Gima or put an end to the orc raids, either." He winks at Sarel, clearly trying to toot his own horn. "I have more stories I wouldn't mind sharing with you, assuming we return from this dragon business alive."
Her smile widens. "Very impressive. Once you are ready to leave I'll have bags packed with fresh and dried rations for you. Enough for a week. Just let me know when you need it!"She gives a wave, winking at Olias, then heads back behind the counter. On the way she steps over the prone body of the drunk man. "Looks like Gregor has been at the bottle again. Cora!" she calls to a woman behind the counter, "Call the guard." She bustles about the bar.
Olias whistles softly to himself and turns to his companions. "I definitely need to come to this bar more often. I wonder..."
He goes back to Sarel. "Care to have a few drinks with us before the night is done? Perhaps someone else can cover your shift for awhile..."
Olias whistles softly to himself and turns to his companions. "I definitely need to come to this bar more often. I wonder..."
He goes back to Sarel. "Care to have a few drinks with us before the night is done? Perhaps someone else can cover your shift for awhile..."
She laughs and leans in. "I own this place, so I can do what I like!" She plops down a pair of foaming beers and sits next to Olias. She nudges his arm playfully. "So tell me a story!"
You make your way back through the deserted orc lair. You don’t notice any fresh tracks or disturbances as you walk through the hallways and rooms. The cooking fire is slowly going out, and you smell the lingering fragrance of burnt wood and meat in the tunnels near the kitchen. The Great Ulfe’s lair looks as you remember it, garish and covered in broken furniture and mirror glass. The burnt table lies smoldering in the middle of the room.
You look past the collapsed wall into the deep inky blackness. Those with dark vision see a gently sloping tunnel made of dirt and large, flat rocks. Some rocks are stacked on top of each other, as if to block part of the tunnel. As you enter the tunnel and inspect it closer, you see that the edges seem to have been dug and some of the rocks are half-buried in the walls and seem impossible to move.
After about 30 feet, the tunnel cuts sharply to the right and the dirt and rubble disappear. A grand staircase unfolds beneath your feet, with carven flagstone steps and a smooth tunnel overhead. You see it stretch out for about 60 feet down in front of you, then those with dark vision see a tiled floor meet the bottom step. As you move towards the bottom of the stairs, you hear a trickle of water somewhere to your right. The air is dank, stagnant, and heavy.
She laughs and leans in. "I own this place, so I can do what I like!" She plops down a pair of foaming beers and sits next to Olias. She nudges his arm playfully. "So tell me a story!"
Olias whistles softly to himself and turns to his companions. "I definitely need to come to this bar more often. I wonder..."
He goes back to Sarel. "Care to have a few drinks with us before the night is done? Perhaps someone else can cover your shift for awhile..."
"Sure. It was our first mission, and we were to investigate why the winemakers at the Rubrum Gima manor stopped coming to town to stock up on supplies. We had to trek through swampy forests to reach the old manor, and when we arrived, we were greeted by the strangest sight. The house was flooded, that much was clear, but when we opened the front door, the water defied all science and logic and remained where it was as if held back by an invisible barrier." Olias takes a sip of his ale to let that sink in a moment. "We found our answer for the mystery soon enough as we were attacked by a sea jelly.
"Upon vanquishing the foe, we proceeded to enter the manor. Immediately, we knew something had gone terribly wrong, as the air was filled with the musk of evil. In one room, we found several giant crabs, which would cut us to pieces with their gigantic claws if we were foolish enough to enter. Luckily, I was clever enough to have noticed the decaying wooden beams hanging above two of the beasts. Using my gift," he pauses here to use Mage Hand to tap Sarel on the opposite shoulder and then winks at her when she turns back around, "I pulled on that beam with all of my might, crushing the bastards and sending them back to whatever foul plane they spawned from.
"We quickly went to work exploring the rest of the house. In our search, we came across a peculiar potion. Being the bravest of the lot, I volunteered to test the potion myself and POOF! my body disappeared! I had turned to a semi-conscious gas! Let me tell you, it was quite the experience. You never really appreciated how solid you are until you're not anymore.
"Anyway, shortly after, we discovered this demon like none other. It was part crab, part..." He looks over at his Dwarven friend, "...part Thravum. We attacked the beast with desperate fury. Poor Olek was taken out of the fight almost immediately, and the rest of us fought tooth and nail to finally fell the demon. And it is good that we did. Trust me, you wouldn't want a hulking Crab-Dwarf lurking around your tavern."
Olias finishes his tale and his mug and awaits Sarel's reaction.
Thravum steps into the blackness, peering left and right to see if the stairs continue higher or if we have arrived at the top of a staircase. "Down the stairs? Stay behind me".
Thravum walks down the stairs, assuming others are following. You're ears strain to pick up his rambling incoherencies- "heeeere dragon".
Oleksandr lightly taps his staff to the floor muttering some words without sticking to a single language.
(Back in the cave)
"I'm right behind you, Thrav," Olias says, but then continues under his breath. "About 15 feet behind you... just in case."
"Shhh."
Jorlitharr will inscribe his stone secrets rune onto the wall and floor every couple steps to sense the location and size of anything touching the surface in a 30 foot radius.
He carefully lugs a burlap sack filled with a sharpened grappling hook and a long length of chain.
he whispers "If we do see it, and it doesn't see us, give me a minute, I have a plan." he's clutching a fist sized very round stone with a rough surface you don't recognize.
You reach the bottom of the smoothly cut stairs. In front of you, a large hallway with a chiseled floor extends into darkness with a twenty-foot ceiling overhead. On either side of the hallway at dwarven eye-level you see stone plaques with carved axes; the Durgeddin symbol is chiseled into each of the axes. You see broken brass hinges, as if a door used to block the hallway.
You see a smooth, cut stone wall on your left, with a stone door about twenty feet away with a large, protruding brass handle . To your right you hear a trickle, trickle of water. A large pool of murky water ripples with unseen currents; it seems as if the wall around the pool was slowly oozing water into the pool. You smell
Olek keeps a close distance to Jorlitharr using the dim light from his staff to assist in finding reliable footing down the stairs.
Jorlitharr looks to the party and speaks in a hushed tone.
"There's some sort of ooze on the other side of this wall. It's eating what I think is a dwarf. A fairly recent corpse compared to the other dwarven corpses we've found down here..."
"How do you think we should proceed?"
"There was another ooze feeding on the metal at the bottom of the pit. If this one is feeding on a body though I expect it may be different in nature. It may be adept at digesting flesh and has ways of breaking it down before it consumes it. Try not to let it touch you."
"How do you think we should proceed?"
"How's bout I open the door and you's all blast it with fire er lightning? Then I can axe it if'n it's still movin."
"How do you think we should proceed?""How's bout I open the door and you's all blast it with fire er lightning? Then I can axe it if'n it's still movin."
"Lead on, Thrav!" Olias readies his crossbow.
"If we can, can we do it...quietly?"
He lifts his robe and traces a run on his stomach while inhaling deeply. His cheeks puffed and mouth closed he nods to Thravum.
"Psst," Olias whispers, "I'm pretty sure the dragon is down there." He points south of their position. "I agree with Jorl -- stealth would be a good idea."
"My gut" (he burps cinders)" says it's bats but.... If it's flying... Things that don't stay on the ground are very unsettling. I'm not entirely sure how they work. "
You all hear the sharp, quick fluttering of many wings. As you speak the sound gets closer and closer.
Jorlitharr squats down with his hands over his head.
Olias casts Faerie Fire in the direction of sounds (at the start of that narrow tunnel towards the south of the battlemat):
Thravum steps away from the door and several steps closer to the tunnel he hears the flapping from, axe at the ready.
"Ferping....tryin'a...dragon...interrputin...."
Six tiny creatures fly into view, their two pairs of wings flapping. They are glowing with a dim light from Olias' spell, and appear like grotesque, four-winged firefly creatures in the air. You hear the chittering coming from their long, proboscis-like noses. They are headed straight towards Thravum, and you hear an increase of noises from the creatures, almost like they are excited.
Anyone standing within the radius of the spell: In the flare of his spell, you see a dim glow from several parts of the floor and the pool of water along the eastern wall; the water is dark and murky but you see shots of long silver trails sparkling faintly on the bottom of the shallow pool. You see the same trails of glimmering silver under your feet implanted in the stone floor.
Oleksandr seems taken by surprise.
Gah! Disgusting vermin!
"Eeesh!"
. "Target practice."
Batter up.
The creatures flap forward, chittering excitedly. Four of them illuminate with a pallid green light.
Two of them round on Jorlitharr. They prod him with their proboscis.
Both creatures are so excited to attack that they bounce off Jorlitharr's sturdy stomach and cause no damage.
Four of them, glowing pale green, poke at Thravum.
Two of them pierce Thravum at the base of his exposed neck. Blood dribbles from the wounds and the creatures keep their pointed noses inside Thravum's flesh.