Wait,
A pretty young female dwarf, dressed only in the torn remnants of a long white shirt and carrying a small wooden chest steps forward
Did you say looking for information about a maintenance company? That would be my company. I am Gwendolyn Wulfenhelm, also from Nyonunum. We organized the crew a couple of months ago, as winter was setting in, and set out for our regular schedule when we were attacked by hill giants. I was captured, but I had hoped some of the others had escaped. I was sold to a group of goblins in this mountain, and have been their prisoner, or I was until Morgrym and his companions rescued me earlier today. What news do you bring from home, Flint?
"Oh hello, Gwendolyn. Again. I'm sorry I did not reply to your greeting earlier. I was concerned about the caged owl, and very peculiar about her freedom. And as you can see, the owl needs my help again. So I will tend to it for now."
Namfoodle isn't particularly chagrined by his earlier lapse of social qualities, and quickly departs the group to find the owl and help take out any burrs, thorns, leaves, or stickers that got caught in its feathers.
"Do you need help, Samangrunhilde?"
Well, I suppose you think this means I owe you something, The owl whines Good grief who knew I would forget how to fly.
"No, no. You don't owe me anything. Perhaps it has been a while since you last flew in the wild. You might rest for a day and try again tomorrow night."
"You don't know a gnome by the name of Master Nanshi, do you?" Jade asks the dwarven lady. "I'm looking for a relative of hers, but I can't seem to recall the details."
Well, Gwendolyn sits by the fire and tries to cover her legs with the long torn shirt, We've had gnomes, from the valleys below the mountains, visit the towers from time to time, but we haven't had a gnome in the volunteer company, at least as long as I've been helping out, which is seven years. They way I see it, there is a good possibility that anyone taken from the road, or their homes, within twenty miles of this place is liable to end up here. Just today Morgrym rescued me from some goblins, and Namfoodle over there from some Bandits. Say, Namfoodle is a gnome maybe he knows this Nanshi you are talking about. Anyway, what was I saying, oh yes, this place seems to be a place to buy and sell slaves, hostages, or worse. Does anybody have an extra blanket they can spare?
Upon the dwarf battle-priest being stymied in getting new weaponry, Flint shoots to his feet. "Morgrym was it? If you need something bigger than a warhammer, look no further than Flint. I'm 40 pounds of iron, and if you think there's a princess needs savings, I'm at yer service. Also, I come with a warhammer! I may be unwieldy, but effective!" He grins.
To Gwendolyn, Flint responds excitedly. "Yes! Your mother, Gertrude, and some others sent me to look into what happened to you lot. I know your brother-in-law, Klause. You probably know my parents, Cliff and Dawn Meadowfar. Anyway, I'm glad to know you're alright, what of the others? Here, take my blanket."
Thank you Flint. Yes, I know your parents, only in passing though. Oh, well, I suppose my mother and father will be delighted to hear I survived, though I cannot know what came to the others, other than Sigmund, I saw him fall with a spear, passing straight through him, ugh, it was a gruesome sight. More importantly, when I go home my parents will never let me volunteer again, at least until I've come of age and can decide without their consent. Oh, well, well, there is a time for everything I suppose. In the morning I'll set out for the Black Village, if someone will tell me the way, and from there Ill try to make my way home. Thank you for searching for us, Flint, may your adventures prove better than mine.
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Morgrym disgruntled about his warhammer retreats to the fire. I won't saving ye, I was reacting to a threat!
He sits by the fire and sees everyone staring at him. What! Oh suddenly I'm the leader. Fine new people knife-ears and horns. Horns, and knife -ears meet the new people.
Did I mention he was often a bit taciturn Kristyd whispers to Gwendolyn, then stands and moves away from the fire.
Greetings, gentlemen, please come sit by the fire and tell us your names so that we might all know one another better.
She then takes a polished metal plate, quite large from a special pack, and begins to arrange a few things to eat upon it
My lord, please, eat, drink, and rest.
She bows deeply and hands the plate to Morgrym
"I'll keep my eyes open for the others. Anything else you can tell me about them to help me know them would help."
Flint nods with furrowed-brow at "Horns" and "Knife-ears" he says while tucking into whatever food is offered. He chuckles a little bit, and turns to Morgrym and speaks in dwarvern, mouth still partially full of food "Knife-ears? Hah!"
Namfoodle looks askance at the "new" folks. "Hmmm, Okay. I might remember a Nanshi..... though I've spent most of my time in the wild, away from 'civilized' folk, as it were."
He tries to remember if he knows a Nanshi.
Morgrym takes the plate from Kristyd saying, Get up. You know I'm not one for all this pomp and circumstance stuff.
Morgrym turns to Flint.
Mein lieber Junge , ich hoffe, als Sie sagten, Sie einen Kriegshammer hatten , waren Sie nicht über sich selbst zu sprechen .
While sitting, Flint tilts his body to show the two swords sheathed across his back, under his shield (a shortsword and scimitar), the warhammer strapped to the small of his back, and the two daggers in his belt and one in his boot. Along with his chainshirt, the halfling is nearly more metal than man.
Myna sits down, tired from all the days excitement. He wave at the others when Morgrym introduces him, adding
"Actually it Myna, and horns over there is Amon. Pleased to meet all of you."
Namfoodle makes a cursory wave at the newcomers, but he is mostly focused on removing any twigs from the owl's feathers and trying to remember if he knows a Nanshi.
"Nanshi's a monk, if I remember right. One of those ascetic types." He shrugs again. "Runs a monastery somewhere."
The Tiefling grimaces and strides past Morgrym, muttering to him as he twisted his dagger lightly against his finger in a mildly threatening way, "I'll have little trouble re-creating a shard of True Ice if you don't start using my name, Morgrym." And addresses the group proper. "You must forgive my Dwarven ally. His greatest strength is being tough to kill. That trait doesn't leave much room for social etiquette. I am Amon Iados, the group spellcaster and knowledge collector of the Arcane. Please, don't let my tall and frightening presence scare you off from asking me any questions you may have."
"Exactly," Jade says to Namfoodle. "The monastery at Plum Tree Village. She taught me a great deal, but she told me of a a vision she had of a distant relative held captive in a cave. I don't suppose you know of any other gnomes in there, do you?"
"Tall and frightening. Small and gruff. It seems some things come in pairs" Her fingers point first to Amon and Kayne, then to Morgrym and Flint. "What have you learned of this place so far?"
Morgrym deep into his beer looks at Amon's threat and then belches very loudly.
Flint hands Morgrym his warhammer, a simple tool meant for practical purpose and not adornment.
In Dwarvern: "It's yours until ya find one fer yourself. If we're sending Gwendolyn back to Nyonunum, maybe your men can go with to pick ya up a spare."
"Well..." says Flint, sharpening his swords near the campfire, talking to everyone. "I'm about out of patience with caution. I normally just push forward until I've gotten done what I need done, but a few years of experience has taught me that that leads to gettin' killed. I know the others of my kind are usually a crafty sort, so to make it plain to ya all, that ain't me. I don't do traps and listening at doors. If you want that done, someone else will have to do it."
He checks the edges of his blades, satisfied he puts them away. "But don't take too long or I might get bored and just push forward. I'll try to put myself between threats and you soft lot..." Flint eyes the group, the shortest of the party by at least half-a-foot and claiming to be the toughest, "... while we get things done. I'm looking for the rest of the maintenance soldiers. That's my main goal, but I'll help Morgrym find the princess as well, as well as trying to keep the lot of you safe, but I don't want another incident like last year where a would-be-archeologist elf spent an entire month dusting old stone-carved writings while the rest of us sat and rotted. We aren't being paid by the hour, nor are lives being saved while we spin our wheels in the mud."
He dourly surveys the group for rebutal,
Kayne stands by and watches the proceedings with a cool gaze, mentally noting the back-and-forth between various individuals and compiling a list of names and roles. Overall, a group of simple, straightforward sorts, it seems. Good for leading the charge into the depths, clearing the way to power for those who would take it. And few seem mindful toward magic... Here, however, his thoughts are interrupted by Amon's introduction, and he steps toward the man as the others continue their chatter.
"Good to meet a fellow arcanist," Kayne states, holding out his free hand to shake the tiefling's. "And here I was concerned there would be no good conversation for the next while.. Kayne Aetherax." Though most of his face is hidden, Kayne's eyes squint slightly as though he is smiling. "Have you also come searching for the lost eldritch secrets certain to be found here?"
Kayne stands by and watches the proceedings with a cool gaze, mentally noting the back-and-forth between various individuals and compiling a list of names and roles. Overall, a group of simple, straightforward sorts, it seems. Good for leading the charge into the depths, clearing the way to power for those who would take it. And few seem mindful toward magic... Here, however, his thoughts are interrupted by Amon's introduction, and he steps toward the man as the others continue their chatter.
"Good to meet a fellow arcanist," Kayne states, holding out his free hand to shake the tiefling's. "And here I was concerned there would be no good conversation for the next while.. Kayne Aetherax." Though most of his face is hidden, Kayne's eyes squint slightly as though he is smiling. "Have you also come searching for the lost eldritch secrets certain to be found here?"
He accepts the shrouded figure's hand, putting on a smile himself as he seemed to be peering into his face, curious if his Darkvision revealed anything to him. "Not quite. I have my reasons for being with this merry little band, one of which does involve gathering knowledge and information. I'm.. something of a black sheep in my family, and they tend to look down their collective noses at me."
Day 5, Tuesday morning, approximately 7:00 am (turn 43)
The sky is over cast, the feel of moisture in the air is heavy, a bit of frost clings to the trees. The retainers have already been up and tidying the camp. Gwendolyn seems sullen, and sits by the fire with her head held low.
the dwarf bellows. Find out if anyone in camp needs anything and then you are going on a supply run.
Flint approaches Gwendolyn and speaks to her in dwarvern. "sounds like you've been through some hard times. Leave it to me, I'll find the others."
Amon's eyes pierce some of the shadow cast by Kayne's hat to reveal old marks on the man's face--possibly scars from wounds and burning. It looks as though the mage had an unfortunate run-in with some kind of beast in the past, and he seems to prefer keeping the evidence of this hidden.
Again, Kayne's eyes crinkle and he nods. "Of course. Too often are the mysteries of the arcane viewed with distrustful, ignorant eyes. People are quick to judge, hasty to proclaim that we seek that which should not be known... As I said, ignorance." He pauses and turns his head slightly. "I was also scorned for my tendencies, though more by colleagues than kin. Fools who refused to admit they were afraid to reach out and take the power that magic offered them. And when I sought to use that power, they decried me and cast me out." The mage absently runs his bare fingers over the metal of his gauntlet, pausing as each rune slides beneath his touch.
After another moment, he turns to Amon again. "Power is ripe for the taking, and meant for those brave enough to wield it, don't you think?" He cocks his head to the side slightly. "But it's getting late. I look forward to exploring with another arcanist." With a small inclination of his head, Kayne makes to set up his bedroll and catch some sleep.
Kayne rises at about the same time as the others and packs up his bedroll before beginning to practice with his rapier. How long before we enter? I've waited long enough. He glances over to the others and sheathes his blade. A noble-coddled dwarf playing the mercenary, a pair of elves, a halfling too big for his body, and a tiefling mage. Sufferable enough.
Namfoodle relaxes at the entrance to the dungeon, conversing politely with Samangrunhilde as she is likely preparing to find a nest for the day.
He's bright and ready to go, having spent most of the night away from the camp in his beloved wilderness.
The Tiefling will bid his fellow spellcaster Good Night and retire to his tent for the evening. Shuffling off his pack and rummaging through it for a flask, his fingers brush across a carefully rolled scroll in a clear tube. He stares at the object for a long moment, the seal of his house just visible from where it was in the depths of his bag. Amon eventually just tossed his bag aside, a wide rage of emotions crossing his face in the darkness.
The next morning, he was up with the light, multi-tasking by breaking his fast and going through his spells. Challenging himself by trying to make the most elaborate illusion he could with his power before the spell itself overloaded and failed.
Thank you Flint. And When I get home I'll be sure to look up your families, both of them, and let them know where you are and what you are doing. I suppose I'll just have to find my way to the Black Village on my own, since NO ONE ANSWERED MY QUESTION last night
Flint looks stunned at Gwendolyn for a moment, then his brow furrows in concentration, thinking. "Err... My mind tends to wander sometimes when talk is going over my head. I may not have been paying attention. Uhhh... What was the question again? How to get to the Black Village?" He grins sheepishly.
If so, he apologizes for drifting off last night, and gives her directions. He'll also point out that if Morgrym's man is going out for supplies, that she may be able to follow him for at least part of the distance, and that the kobolds may be able to further direct her back home from there.
When morning comes, Jade eats a little and stretches, watching the others as they prepare themselves. She describes the path she and the others took from the village to Gwendolyn, and looks into the cave mouth.
"I suppose we should go ahead. May those of us who have been inside already take us as far as they have been?"
Day 5, Tuesday morning, approximately 7:00 am (turn 43) [oov]It is morning, the sun is rising in the east and has just cleared the trees near the Black Village. It is late in the winter season, almost the first day of spring, let’s call it the eighteenth day of Mergunum, the last month of the twelve calendar year.[/ooc]
Staying back from the two huge doors a safe distance, and with weapons ready, Morgrym and Flint watch as Myna and Jade push open the perfectly balanced doors.
The morning sun reflects off of a cloud of dense fog that rolls out of the dungeon as the doors open. Before you a twenty foot wide passageway stretches off to the north. Morgrym has told the elves that a short distance into the dungeon, about thirty to forty feet or so, there are two sets of doors, smaller than these entrances doors, one pair on the left and one pair on the right. Previously the group explored what was beyond both sets of doors, and found small groups of goblins in each of the two rooms that were explored, and on the left, a series of maze like passages that led to a secret room with a small box containing 1,000 copper pieces (here the party was ambushed by a Goblin party), and on the right a series of connected secret passages that led to another secret chamber where some bandits had been hiding out.
The party can move to the north, and by pass the two sets of doors and the areas that were explored, or return to an area where they stopped the last time (the first bandit Room had a third door, on the east wall, that was not examined).
Making sure to give Gwendolyn a proper farewell (Because, let's face it, she's a cutie!), Flint wishes her luck and asks her to reassure any of his family that he's doing just fine, and not to worry.
As they near the dungeon, Flint straps his shield to his arm and advances behind his scouts, beside Morgrym. "I've got torches, if we need 'em, but I'll need someone else's hand to do the holding. Mine will be busy."
Since others have already explored this place somewhat, Flint leaves it to the others to decide where to go.
Namfoodle squints into the darkness, his eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness within and stinging a little at the dust and musk the fog bears with it.
"I will hold it, if needs be. If only to burn this damnable fog away."
He holds up a finger that glows with a faint green light as a gust of wind blows some of the fog around him away for a moment, though it sinks back around him swiftly enough.
"Well I guess that is my cue to move back out front. Will you join me M'lady?".
He offers his hand with a half bow towards Jade, a smile on his lips.
Morgrym turns to the closest thing to a dwarf, Flint, Ye think they gonna have knife-eared babies?
Jade grins and gives a graceful bow to Myna. When she rises again, her face is serious. She strings her bow and readies an arrow.
"Keep the torch to the back back," she says. "Elves see well in the dark, and light may give us away." She takes a step into the fog and....
... vanishes from sight.
"Gods! Don't make me think of it." Flint responds, and then finishes his thirty count of headstart for the elves, following slowly.
"You may see well in the dark, but even this fog messes up my vision." Namfoodle remarks to no one in particular. He shrugs and waits for the others to move ahead of him.
"Indeed." Kayne frowns at the thick fog filling the dungeon's interior and rests a hand on his rapier's hilt, the other holding the bridle of his mule. "It's well that we brought torches. Come, Alighieri."
Namfoodle smells the air, and even is bold enough to taste the fog as it rolls around him.
"This fog is dense and fresh. We must be near someplace where water is being lifted in the air regularly."
Amon helps in burning away some of the fog with a fresh Light spell cast on his horns. As well as using his power to cause a light breeze to blow around them. If nothing else, the breeze feels nice. "I don't remember coming across this much fog when I came by just the other day." the Tiefling remarks aloud.
Day 5, Tuesday morning, approximately 7:10 am (turn 44, turn 1 of 6)
Moving cautiously into the passageway, allowing the two elves to move ahead of the rest of the group, the party enters the Palace of the Vampire Queen once again. Each step is carefully placed, quietly and with hearts pounding, the group makes slow progress down the wide tunnel.
Mina and Jade reach the two pairs of doors on opposite sides of the passageway, and check them for unusual sounds, or fresh markings indicating the possible presence of new and dangerous traps, but nothing strange is heard or discovered.
Confirming with a glance at Myna that these areas have been explored, Jade pushes northward.
Day 5, Tuesday morning, approximately 7:20 am (turn 45, turn 2 of 6)
Jade and Myna creep slowly forward, each staying close to one of the walls, to the left and right, but not too close so as to not be surprised should a secret door suddenly open and a malicious goblin were to spring out at them.
After passing the pair of double doors, the scouts wave the group onward and the rest follow barely able to make out the elves as the scout ahead.
Walking slowly northward, the scouts finally come to a wide intersection. Some fifty feet beyond the double doors behind them, the scouts now stand at a four way intersection, where twenty foot wide passageways go off to the north, east and west. The fog is thinner to the west.