Daeron emerges from his room, this time fully equipped with bow, arrow and staff over his shoulder. As he sits down at the cleaned dining area, keeps mum, contemplating the day's task ahead and wondering he chose to prepare the right spells ahead of time.
He gratefully accepts the cleric's offer of healing and soon his wounds, courtesy of a jackal's bite crusts and fully heals.
Lazaan does show up as you are finishing your breakfast looking very tired. He grabs some bread and chews as he explains the entire Dawn Vigil was needed until late last night to deal with the overwhelming crowds at the Festival. He asks if you've had any luck with your investigation.
"We found 'em alright. Gonna go clean 'em out of their disgusting den taday." Tararr exclaims with stereotypical dwarven bluntness.
Chitleen adds "It would seem to be so. We were assaulted here at the Breakstride by a pair of jackalweres... has the Vigil had any previous difficulties with their kind?"
Lazaan seems surprised, "Jackalweres?! I have never seen one. One hears rumors though and it does not surprise me that these hateful beasts seek to serve the Rough Beast."
If the watch has not the opportunity to witness and possibly battle these foul shape-changers, then perhaps today is the best chance the Vigil will ever get. Though it puzzles me to think what motive do they have doing the schemes that were done prior.
Daeron runs his slender elven fingers across the body of his admantine blade.
Though reluctantly I would have to ask the favor of the Vigil to lend our fighters weapons made of cold iron, as from experience and from my studies, only the bite of cold iron ever truly leaves a mark on their flesh.
"Lend me a weapon?! I'll have none of it! My dwarven steel bit well enough. I'll not soil my honor by beggging for the inferior workings of lesser craftsmen like some mongrel in the street! You need only hit 'em harder than normal, elf." roars the dwarf.
Chitleen mumbles loud enough for Daeron to hear "La fierté de nos amis barbus ..." before continuing in common "Not all of us are blessed with your particular talents Tararr and would see ourselves better equipped before tangling with a foe that will likely be in numbers greater than last night."
"All the better.", Tararr shoots back.
Peur qu'elle ne les mettre en danger comme nous-mêmes..
Daeron casually says before speaking more loudly in common, Do as it suits you, Tararr, but I believe your kind have a saying 'Never injure your pride by substituting your axe for a smith's hammer.' If that is what I correctly recall.
Lazaan sighs, "If only we had anyone available to attack these beasts, but we are stretched too thin keeping the walls and gates secured and also dealing with the crowds. You will be rewarded for your assistance and yes, we do keep cold iron weapons stocked for the occassion when one of Lamashtu's gnoll priests call upon the abyss for assistance. I should be able to loan you weapons if you like, what might you need?"
It is unfortunate the Vigil has its hands full, might they learn a thing or two facing jackalweres in combat. Nevertheless, a score of cold iron arrows would be most appreciated, though when it is all over I doubt I would be able to return them in the condition in which it was received.
"We also have another saying about elves, but I doubt you would care for that one."
Daeron sips his chai a little, making a long slurping sound before setting his cup. Glancing at Tarrar he give a quizzical shrug before helping himself to slice of buttered bread.
"Friends, this sniping back and forth about the luck or unluck of our births does nobody a service. It needs to stop, now. I would no more judge a good elf by the stories of his kind than I would expect one to judge me in the same way."
To Lazaan, "A cold iron bastard sword would please me greatly, but I will wield a good old fashioned battleaxe if that is all that is available that will work against these creatures. I already carry cold iron javelins and crossbow bolts for just this sort of task."
"I suppose I should not expect any less from a dwarf who worships a god beyond Torag's forge....", Tararr responds to Surak's suggestion. The slurping from Daeron's tea causing a visible shutter and gritted teeth. "Are we going to sit around here all day or get to moving?", he says crossing his arms.
Realizing he may have been a bit harsh in some his accusations, Tararr says in a hasty manner,"I guess that I wouldn't have taken that beast as easily if hadn't been for your magic, elf. Humph.....Do ya have anything of dwaven make about this place? Maybe one them stout folks ya trade with may have brought somethin' in?"
Responding to Lazaan "As with my comrade, arrows and perhaps a longsword in iron would be welcome sahib." he allows the warm wind of conflict to carry itself from the room before adding "Tararr is correct in recommending some degree of alacrity this morning to move against the jackalwere however." implying that once the more effective ordnance is received they should indeed make haste.
Shirish eats her breakfast while the elves and dwarves seem to argue between each other. Her eyes narrow when the two elves begin speaking in their own strange language and she sighs, and lifts herself up, placing her huge hands on the surface of the table with a heavy thud.
This manner of conversation among ourselves is fragmenting this group, and it angers me.
Shirish grumbles and snarls and spits in her orcish tongue and leaves the table, lifting her shield in front of her. She elects to run her regular course around the Breakside and several other local businesses until her services are needed.
Lazaan watches the interaction with eyebrows arched, but says nothing until things settle. "Fear not stout heros, our arms are in fact largely of dwarven manufacture. The desert dwarves of the Workers' Quarter settled here centuries ago to make sure we have the best arms to deal with the heinous gnolls and slavers. Forsooth I believe most human smiths would be hard pressed to deliver the sustained hammering needed to shape cold iron. Give me a little time to acquire the equipment you need. I will return shortly."
Not understanding the words of Shirish's statement, he did pick up on some of the nuance. Giving Lazaan a brief nod he focused upon his chai and breakfast in the short time spent waiting for his re-arrival.
You wait impatiently for what seems a long time, but eventually Lazaan returns before the sun has ascended eight fingers. He has two quivers of cold iron arrows and both a cold iron bastard and long sword. He even has a battle axe for the more discerning dwarf. "I hope these will do. I couldn't find an axe spear thing for Tarrar, but maybe just an axe will do. Has your orcish friend returned?"
Surak smiles when he sees the bastard sword, a familiar tool in an unfamiliar material. He bows to Lazaan and mutters thanks, but clearly his attention is with the weapon, not its source.
He wanders outside, the last few bites on his plate forgotten, and finds a quiet place to commune with his patron and his patron's weapon.
When he notices Shirish going by, he lowers the sword for a moment, waving her over. "Shirish - Lazaan has returned, and is asking for you. I believe his contribution will make our vengeance today for last night's attack that much more assured."
His attention returns to the sword, and he resumes practicing with it, learning the differences from his normal blade.
Shirish has barely broken a sweat running about in her gear. The lack of weight from her sword and lighter shield are somewhat troubling. Perhaps it was shift in balance that lent to her failures in battle?
What difference will winning one battle make among our current ranks?
Shirish growled and spat again, then gave a nod and lumbered into the Breakside to find the others.
Chitleen accepts the sword and some arrows graciously, rising to secure them for combat. As Shirish returns "Shall we be off then?"
"At least these humans have more sense than most when it comes to defense. They could teach their kind a thing or two." he says with a nod of approval as he hefts the axe.
As Daeron rearranges his pack to accommodate the newly acquired arrows, he nods, ready to begin. Noting the warrior's borrowed arms, he eases off on his apprehension, glad for the group to have at least learnt something from the night's combat.
Lazaan nods to Shirish as the warrior returns. "I wish you all the best of luck. May a common enemy unite you. These jackalweres are nearby? Perhaps I should escort you to where the threat lies."
"Do as you please, just stay out of my way." says Tararr as he walks out the door.
Chitleen bows slightly to Lazaan "That would be welcome, it would help to smooth our passage so armed if we are beside one of the vigil."
Surak joins the team when they depart.
Shirish nodded when Lazaan spoke, her face softening briefly at the notion that they will not have to compete with the festival as well as their quarry. Dressed in their adventuring gear, they were just as likely to frighten locals and visitors alike.
Shirish begins moving to the door, her shield in front of her in an obvious gesture meaning that she will be taking point.
Lazaan looks chagrined at Tararr's brusqueness, but follows along as Shirish takes the lead with her longer stride. You quickly pass through the small farms and squatter settlements of the River Quarter toward the caravanserais and the abandoned building you found last night.
Once you reach your destination, Lazaan's eyes light up in recognition, "I know this place. I grew up not far from here. This could be our 'Thuvian Tomb'. See the floral design on the cornice? Those represent sun orchids. I think the owner, Mad Mushti, used to claim he had sun orchid extract for sale. The building is designed like a tomb and he would claim it was the last tomb you'd ever visit if you bought his elixir. I think he was a bit of a con artist, but he died in a fire here a few years before the siege."
"The doors are solidly sealed, but if I remember correctly, there is an old tree in the back that you can climb to the roof and from there enter through the chimney. I remember the children would dare each other to enter the place for it was rumored to be haunted. I don't think anyone I knew was brave enough or foolish enough to actually try it though."
Surak ponders. "You won't find many as foolish as we." He draws his sword, and inspects the outside of the building carefully.
Surak indeed finds the doors heavily secured and a now dead tree in the back.
As he walks around the building, Surak closes his eyes for a moment, seeing help from his patron. He looks for any signs of recent activity.
Chitleen stands in place to cast his eyes over the edifice...
Perception: take 10 for 19
...before moving to gaze upon the front doors, seeing if he can ken a way to open them...
Disable Device:
Tararr being the dwarf he is, looks the stonework over for the inevitable flaws found in stones work of non-dwarven origin.
Looking at his surroundings for any unattended urns and pots, Daeron pauses before casting Detect Magic at the entrance.
If any discreet way of entry is not readily apparent, we could always rely on our adamantine weapons to cut the door down.
The chains across the door are quite formidable and Daeron detects that they are magically warded as well. Surak notices a tuft of jackal hair snagged on a branch just over his head on the dead tree and Tararr sees some wear on the cornice near where the tree overhangs the building.
Surak points at the signs of activity. "It looks like they've been using the tree to enter as well. While I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground, it seems a brief interlude away from it is required."
"I'd agree with that,Surak. Did ya notice the wear of the stone? Seems like they been at it a while or others before 'em had the same idea."
"Sad to say, I have no great eye for stonework, much as I do love stone! Perhaps that is Lord Ragathiel's way of helping me avoid such beautiful distractions, to keep me focused on my work. My place is fighting evil, not working the stone." He sighs, slightly wistfully.
Looking upwards to the tree, Chitleen ponders "Well it would appear we needs to remove ourselves from the ground..." and he moves forward to the tree itself, gauging if he can easily master it.
The bare tree has a number of branches that should make the climb easy (DC 10).
Shirish proves that she has spent more time drilling on her feet than training for wilderness encounters as she is absolutely baffled by the existence of tree.
02
03
04
05
The headstrong half-orc ex-slave takes the lead somewhat encumbered by her gear. She makes it a little ways up before breaking a branch and tumbling back to the ground.
"If we're dead set on climbing that thing, better do it one at a time. That damned thing is rottin' out. Ain't likely ta hold much weight.,Tararr says gesturing with his hand toward the weakest joints.