"I doubt you want me doin' the talkin', elf. It don't end pretty very often."
Prudence calls for us to at least secure shelter for the night as its coming is inevitable. A suggestion is we seek a stone roof over our heads for tonight with solid walls and before us is such an opportunity. At any rate it I would allow myself to approach yon tower and make inquiries.
Daeron moves off his mount, clearly happy to have his legs on the ground again and stretches around.
Seeing your uncertainty, the man waves and crosses the bridge. Behind him in the doorway of the tower you spot a pair of small children that are quickly ushered back inside. Upon reaching your side of the quick flowing river, the man stops and bows, "Greetings, travelers. I am Abid Shabha. You are welcome to rest here. I have some goats for sale should you like fresh meat."
Moving to stand before him "Salaam Abid, your offer is most kind and while I have no interest in goat" turning slightly towards Tararr "There are some who may enjoy fresh meat..."
"A goat 'ould be just fine.", Tararr responds.
"A suit of leather armor would be a welcome meal at this point, we have been on the road all day!"
Abid bows again with a smile, "One goat or two? and should I have it prepared for you as well? My woman can do so easily while you make your camp."
Upon taking your request, the man returns to the ruined tower leaving you to set up camp.
"I believe one goat will be more than we can eat, and probably about as much as we could eat on the road before it goes off. Prepared sounds wonderful, thank you."
The man returns to talk while your goat roasts. "I assure you this goat will be worth every copper grain. A meal fit for lords!"
"We do not get much company here. I assume you travel into the mountains. It is very, very dangerous. You would be wise to consider the dangers. Think well before you travel beyond the river. What could possibly be worth such risk?"
I would presume you would know much of the surrounding geography. Otherwise our reasons to venture beyond the river is much as any soul's dream, fame and forture. May you tell what else lies nearby?
Daeron speaks casually whilst observing the surroundings for anything amiss.
Perception:
Abid scratches the side of his sizable nose, "Fame? Fortune? I don't care so much about fame, but fortune, eh? I do know the area and the dangers found beyond the reach of the Severed Paw. My family has lived in these mountains for generations. My grandfather dwelt in the upper halls of Zolurket itself. We sold items we found before the gnolls took it from us."
"Are you interested in the way to the Dark Death. A cunning guide could show you the secret paths hidden from the Spotted Hide matriarchs. A cunning guide such as myself, say for the small price of 10 gold scarabs each day? A bargain at only half the price of your dinner, huh?" the thin man laughs.
Tararr sets back letting the elf do the talking. The smell of roasting goat wafting on the wind causing his his stomach to rumble.
"Come sahib, you surely jest? A man who can afford to sell a goat for twenty pieces scarabs and seek to charge as you do for a day's wage surely must know something of fortune?" said genially enough, but with an edge of skepticism.
Abid chuckles, "A small joke- only 3 gold for the goat. I will see how it is coming along while you consider my proposal."
Chitleen smiles his white merchant's smile as the man departs, before turning to the dwarves "Well friends... can you find the way by smell? or would you like someone to lead you to the mine?"
Chitleen regards his companions quizzically as though everyone were frozen in time but he...
"Well, I believe our directions are good enough to get us there, but I'm sure a local could prove invaluable. We could always send him on his way after a couple of days if we don't find him useful, or don't trust him."
"How is it he has been protected from the gnolls in these mountains. It ain't like he lives in the least noticable place out here. Probably in league with the devils is what I say. Proabably trying to fatten us up for them mangie bastards."
Affixing Tararr with a questioning eye "And yet you would eat his goat? This devil worshipper who is to sell us to the gnolls as feedstock?"
"Can't fight on an empty stomach."
"A man may sometimes be evil, but a goat is almost always tasty."
Just when you are certain that the dwarves might fall upon each other to assuage their hunger, Abid reappears with a delightfully fragrant roasted kid borne upon a platter fashioned from a dwarven shield, a relic of lost Zolurket in honor of his guests he tells you.
"It looks like more food than even we could eat, would you join us in this wonderful meal and we can discuss what benefits your experience and knowledge can provide us if we were to hire you?"
Chitleen regards the shield with a jaundiced eye...
Appraise: take 10 for 19
"Oh, you are most generous, but please enjoy your meal. I have already eaten with my family. I will enjoy your fire and your company." So saying Abid squats by the fire smiling expectantly.
Chitleen cannot properly inspect the shield while it is in use, but it appears to be dwarven and of proper antiquity though changes in dwarven fashion are usually measured in millennia.
Eyeing the obviously dwarven shield, Tararr becomes angry that a human is now using a piece of his people's history as a serving platter. No doubt rest in his mind its owner has been tarnished in the halls of Torag. "Where did you get that shield!", Tararr roars his eyes looking slightly wild with anger. "Manling, there are few things which bring me more disdain than those who would defile dwarven graves. You'd be wise to answer with haste.". An icy coolness in suddenly comes over Tararr as his eyes narrow and it seems as he is measuring up the distance between himself and the human.
Abid looks alarmed, "Be not offended noble dwarf, it was not stolen from any grave. It was left in the abandoned armories of Zolurket. Is that not where you are bound? Tell me dwarf, is it better such a fine piece of workmanship rust away unused in some storeroom or be put to a practical purpose?"
"Believe me, the desert dwarves would not want it. They believe anything from those lost halls is cursed, so why should we not save such useful and beautiful items and put them to use again?"
Ignoring the tension, Chitleen calmly asks "And how does one who is adroit enough to plumb the depths of Zolurket retire to sell roast goat and his services as guide? Surely if you were truly able to penetrate into the mine, then you wealth would exceed such common goals?"
Abid smiles sadly, "Ah, as I told you- In my grandfather's day we often scavenged from the uppermost levels, but that was before the gnolls. This shield is an heirloom. Now I would not brave such hazards and I have my family to think about, but a little extra income merely to show you the way, well that is acceptable."
I would not be too proud to decline such an offer, as also to further use your facilities in the future should our forays prove less than lethal. State your terms while under our employment and we should have no quarrel in the future should you act as our guide.
Trying to contain the urge to hack the man's head off, Tararr attempts to see some logic in his words. Stepping back, he merely mumbles under his breath.
Surak hands Tararr a piece of goat. "Tararr - you would enjoy life more if you spent less of it looking for an unnecessary fight and more of it eating things like this."
Abid turns to the elven wizard and strokes his neatly trimmed beard. "Ten scarabs a day for my services for each day it takes to reach Zolurket and a like fee for my return trip, you shall provide provisions each way. I could hunt, but it will take longer. Also I trust that you will defend me from any threats we meet along the way. If I am killed you must pledge to pay my family 100 gold pieces for the loss."
"That is a mighty steep price, human." Turning to Surak, Tararr growls,"Unnecessary?". "Are you not a servant of the lord of vengenance? Have you spent so much time amongst the humans that you have taken their lot as your own and forgotten the trials of your own kind? Here we stand before a man using a cousins mighty shield for a platter disgracing his memory all the more while trying wring every last piece of gold from our coffers and you will accuse me of seeking out reperations for what is not there!?!"
Turning back to the man, Tararr is no longer happy with idle chit chat with desert vagabond. Snatching the man's collar up in one hand and letting his axe slide into position in the other, Tararr pulls Abid's face right up to his own,"Listen now thief and listen good. I promise 'hat I'll kill you and yer whole family an' anyone I meet who knows yer family's name, if you try to rob us one more time. You done got all the gold from dwarven hands y're to ever see. Lead us astray an' I kill ya. You don't take us and we run into some gnolls an' I kill ya. Lead us into some gnolls an' I kill you smash yer kids heads in with that shield right there.", he finishes giving Abid a shove as he does so.
Chitleen is surprised by the sudden eruptation of anger from the dwarf, and does not yet rise from his place of sedentary leisure... lest he draw the ire currently upon Abid.
Abid gathers himself as he straightens his thawb. He regards Tararr coldly, "I would ask you not to touch me again and not to threaten my family. I have misjudged your mission if you are at some other purpose than to recover the treasures of Zolurket. The shield was only meant to show the truth of my claim to know the place. At this moment I do not know that all of your gold would be enough for my services."
"I've said what I have to say. Do not take me lightly, weak one. I'll be remindin' ya that it is not my hands that you should be worried about, nor have made anything but promises to ya. Say one more thing an' it is gonna be yer last."
Abid retreats to the shadows of the bridge and spits before crossing back to his ruined tower.
"You do have a certain way of making friends sahib..." standing from where he sat before moving in Abid's wake.
Arms wide, Chitleen approaches the tower, calling out clearly "Abid, I seek only to pay for your goat..." non-threateningly standing well clear of the tower's entrance and awaiting some sign before making any attempt to approach closer.
"That sandrat is likely preparing our welcome to his dog-faced friends."
The skinny robed man reappears at the doorway and squints into the night. A waning quarter moon provided scant light, but you feel the night hunters awakening as bats swirl overhead and something splashes in the river. Once he is certain only Chitleen is nearby, he comes down for his money.
Daeron looks at Tarrar, somewhat satiated with morsels of mutton, but he reserves some pity for the old man to have been rebuked so.
I am sure the old man meant no harm or he knew little of what dwarven custom regarding shields and mutton. Perhaps if the shield was used as a prominent showpiece would it mean any different?
Sighing the elf continues.
Being so far from civilization and in unfamiliar ground, perhaps we should wait to discover enemies instead of converting one.
"It matters not, elf. That manling is no doubt in league with them devils in some way or another, I'm sure of it. How else would the old fool make it without the aid of more of his kind? A thief is a thief. Anything in those mines is dwarven by rights. Do you like being led to yer end and robbed before it happens on top of it?"
Approaching the man Chitleen holds clasped hands before him. Speaking simply he opens his right that has three pieces of gold "For the goat" then the second which has another seventeen pieces "For the words" clearly showing at least some personal contrition at the barbarous conduct of his fellow traveler.
Chitleen waits for just long enough for Abid to take the gold before giving a shallow bow "Good night sahib" and turning to walk back to his companions.
Surak stands, disgusted by the needless alienation. He walks away muttering angrily, half to himself and half praying for guidance. Eventually he sits again, away from the camp, and begins honing his bastard swords, with the look of a man desperate for something to focus his mind.
Skill and tenacity may also a reason on why he survived, not to mention that he said it was passed down from his fore fathers. The wrong you perceive today may not be of his own doing, rather those of his predecessors. Somewhat unfair to be placed upon him where years of his life is sensed by the days and weeks passed rather that the tenfold of years that our races do.
Daeron glances at the pack animals, before he starts to move towards a sheltered position.
Night and its inky blackness. It would be appropriate to retire here till dawn.
Daeron fishes out his curled up familiar, instructing him to hang around camp and do some night time hunting for its own sake, before flinging him into the air.
Abid takes the gold without comment and returns to the tower. You retire to your own tents and watch is set.
Perception:
Eyes and mind darkening in thoughts as he sees the forms leave the tower - he moves to wake the others in turn... quietly. Once all are awakened he relates "It would appear that Tararr's doubts have some founding after all - I have seen twin shadows on wings of leather fly from the tower." letting that sink in a moment as he fishes in his satchel for his tinctures "I am for plumbing the depths of the tower while they are gone... and you?"