Shadowborn's Wounded Earth (Red Group) (Inactive)

Game Master Jeff Lee

The baker's face brightens. "Oh yes, yes! Your pick from the shop for your help. Just please, don't tell anyone. I don't want my customers to think my place is unclean. It must have made its way down there when I forgot to close the delivery door round back."

With that, Jinjer gives a nod and proceed behind the curtain, glancing back at Magnus. Well? Let's go on a bug hunt."

Once you've deposited the remains and filled in the hole, Durin motions toward the chapel. "How about a hot mug of mulled mead? I've got to get the chill out of these old bones. Then we can discuss the matter you've come here about."

Thank you. Some refreshment would be most welcome. My name is Gaius Gracci. Please tell me more about the play that tobacco so rudely interrupted.

Initiative Order:
Magnus
Beetle
Jinjer

He finishes the work in relative silence, notes the damage to the bones, and wonders as he returns them to rest about why all the deaths seem to have been violent.

"Aye, I could use a drink meself," he replies to Durin's invitation. As they walk back to the chapel, he decides to ask. "Was there some pattern to what graves were desecrated? Most o' the bones had violence visited upon 'em. I'm thinkin' that perhaps this wasn't just a random act of hooligan-ry."

It scuttles across the floor, snapping at Magnus' leg, but he manages to evade the bite. You can take your action now.

Jinjer, seeing no other beetles emerging to attack, takes the time to stow her bow and draw her shortsword, preparing to aid Magnus in melee.

"Well, if they were walking earlier, they're not now. You see any livelier bones traipsing around and I'll get concerned. Bad enough I had to tromp all the way to town and back for next to nothing."

Handing you each a warm mug, he pulls a stool and a small crate over near the one chair in the room, taking the chair for himself. He sits with a loud groan, and then motions for the two of you to sit.

"So, you're looking for my former pupil... Haven't seen hide nor hair of the lad for years now. Told them it wouldn't work...star-blooded or no. Like most humans, he's hot-blooded and footloose, and now he's up and gone."

The beetle bites again, snapping onto your calf with crushing force. 5 hp damage.

Jinjer moves up beside you, thrusting with her sword. Her sword bites deep into its back. It gives an angry squeal and turns on her, mandibles snapping.

As the attacks from Magnus and his familiar draw its attention once again, Jinjer takes advantage and sidles around it, flanking with Magnus. Her sword thrust drives into the wound she made with her last attack, plunging in and pinning it. The thing gives a frantic scramble of legs as she twists the blade before pulling it free, and then it lies still.

Combat is over. There is still a glow coming from behind the sacks, but nothing else threatens the three of you as you proceed into the cellar.

"Asheron was a right giant. Tall, strong, and a handsome lad. His was the blood of one of Baal's servants, from somewhere back in his family tree. The church elders knew this, and took him in with a plan."

He pauses for another long pull at his mug. He seems a bit surprised to find it now empty, and moves back to the stove for a refill from the pot. His iron foot clanks heavily on the floor.

"Not sure I should tell you this, but since he's long since gone and you're fellow members of the fold... It was the elders' plan to use human legend to help pacify the humans. Their tales say that the human kings of old had the blood of angels in them. And here was one of the star-blooded ones in the flesh. So they took him in and raised him, made him a ward of the church and taught him the scriptures. He was to be a stabilizing influence. One that the humans could look up to, want to follow, and thereby bring rebel elements back under control. 'Course, things didn't go according to plan. Human nature is as fluid as mercury, laws or no. He disappeared some five years ago. I suppose they blame me, which is why I'm still stuck out here."

"Five years ago..." he murmured, recalling what Kravathku had told him, "I was informed that he was around Dunshale around that time. He and two companions had slew a group of nocturne that attacked during the High Harvest festival. But that seems to be the last anybody has ever heard of him. Do you have any idea what his intentions were?"

"One thing I do know for sure is that he didn't have anything to do with the Thane's son dying. If it had been Asheron, the boy's skull would have been crushed, head on...no knives in the back. But whatever he had running through his head when he disappeared, he was still too deeply involved with us dwarves and the religion to take part in open rebellion."

Do you have any idea where she might be now?

About that tale. Prince of the North? But the north is nothing but ice and horror or do we mean a different north?

Tarrana thinks he may well be telling the truth, from the way blackened dwarf spirits glare at the man so; the cinders drifting from their skin swirl angrily.

In response to Gaius' questions: "I'm not certain where she might be now. I suppose her parents in Dunshale might be the ones to ask, assuming they're still there. Unfortunately, some folk were lost during the last uprising."

The second question brings a smile from the man. "This is the North, my friend. This is the land he ruled. His twin brother ruled the lowlands, far to the south of here. The two kingdoms were divided by the elven forests that lie south of these mountains, yet all were united by mutual alliance...even the dwarves. This, of course, was all before the Great Wounding. While the Iron Marches were protected by the power of Baal, and the forests by elven magic, I fear the South, like the rest of the world, may lay ravaged."

"Grundar's murder happens to be why I'm here," Stilgar admits, putting down his half-empty mug, "I am to find the murderer. An informant had provided me with a great deal of information, suggesting that all of the details were somehow involved. So much happened in the days before the murder; people accused of an entirely different crime were even used as scapegoats. It reeks of conspiracy..." He shakes his head and picks up his mug, taking another swig.

"I am sure the rebels could be of assistance, but I suppose finding them would be difficult."

In answer to Brodgar's question: "They likely blame me because I'm the one responsible for his upbringing and instruction. Going rogue doesn't reflect well on me as his mentor. Ah well, I've got a fine building to reside in and live out the rest of my days. That can be enough, so long as people bring their sick to see me so I don't have to gimp all the way into town."

"Friends?" Tarrana says marveling at the sight of angry spirts swirling like an inferno around him. "Yes I'm sure they're jsut the type to set beards aflame and set tunnels to a suffocating smoke. Without thinking about the consequences beyond the thrill of their righteous anger. Petulant bravado in the face of unspeakable horrors." Tarrana says sadly as she drifts into her own visions. "I wonder how they will react when the windstorms come to tear the mountains from the earth? When fire will tear itself from its imprisonment in rock and cleanse the sin of man, dwarf, and demon from the surface? Will they cry out in anger blaming the other? Will they make ammends? Or will they go quietly into oblivion a distant memory as the world begins itself anew." Tarrana goes quiet and seems to stare at nothing for a long while."[/b]