Slumbering Tsar: Forward - The Camp (Inactive)

Game Master Lord Manticore

Bor Metalstench wrote:

"Well at least you're being honest with me. Again, Bor pauses for a moment. "Do you you know how hard it is to be a gargoyle?"

"No, I don't. But I've heard that excuse from plenty of petty thugs before." He changes his voice to a rough baritone and says, "let me go. I didn't do it. Times are hard. I only rob people because I can't find work." He returns to his normal voice and asks, "honestly, if you had an opportunity to live in peace with these folks and out from under the dragon's thumb, would you? Or do you delight in causing pain and suffering? Fighting for survival is understandable; killing for pleasure is inexcusable." He peers intently at the gargoyle, locking his gaze. "What would you do if I cut these ropes and offered you a fair deal?

"I'd give you the information you asked for and go back to my tribe. What would you do if the situation were reversed?"

My experience is Northern Colorado can have the best powder in the world. That is why I like Steamboat so much. Powder is great at Crested Butte though, but this year it looks like packed conditions the entire time. Never trust the weather report - they can be very inaccurate when it comes to mountain weather, so we might get some fresh. Crested Butte is a beautiful setting - sort of a single peak, in a valley surrounded by other mountains. Scenery is priceless. Stunning really, even if you don't ski. Went out with snow machines last year - a blast! I guess we should take this private if we want to discuss skiing much more. :)

Nah, it's cool. If I get to talking about skiing, I'll get to pining, and we'll never get anything done here. ROFL. Go have fun, we'll try not to get your character killed. :-)

When you arrive back at the tavern, you can see that many of the people who were there earlier are now going home. The stress of a dragon attack is enough to make everyone want to be somewhere else. Maulf and his daughter are cleaning up the last of the messes left when the siren was called. He looks over at you as you walk into the main room and says, "It's good to see that you're still in one piece. I still can't believe that you went out there running after that scourge. Have a seat, and I'll have my daughter, Dwili, fetch you some stew to eat. Small beers as well? Or do you want the real stuff instead?"

Lavinia shrugs. "I suppose another day or two here doesn't matter much. Besides, it gives us a bit more time to prepare and gather more information before we leave."

Did Ally/Elen share some of the guards rumors they heard? Like the one that said:

Quote:

One heard a tale from Maulf, the tavern-keeper. He was one of the few that has actually seen the gates of Tsar with his own eyes. He never got in, but the guard was told that Maulf saw many creatures manning the walls; human looking, but there was something odd about them. You might want to talk to Maulf about it, if you have the guts, that is. It was a pretty gruesome tale.

Elen absolutely would have shared these tidbits of info, if not during the trip to the castle, then during the return to the Inn.

@LM: What time during the day is it now? I've lost track of time.

Lavinia Batharoy wrote:

Lavinia shrugs. "I suppose another day or two here doesn't matter much. Besides, it gives us a bit more time to prepare and gather more information before we leave."

Did Ally/Elen share some of the guards rumors they heard? Like the one that said:

Quote:

One heard a tale from Maulf, the tavern-keeper. He was one of the few that has actually seen the gates of Tsar with his own eyes. He never got in, but the guard was told that Maulf saw many creatures manning the walls; human looking, but there was something odd about them. You might want to talk to Maulf about it, if you have the guts, that is. It was a pretty gruesome tale.

Elen absolutely would have shared these tidbits of info, if not during the trip to the castle, then during the return to the Inn.

@LM: What time during the day is it now? I've lost track of time.

It's late, perhaps 9:30 or 10pm right now.

"I'd give you the information you asked for and go back to my tribe. What would you do if the situation were reversed?"

"I would do the same, if I trusted my captor. Do you feel you have information to give me that would balance the risk I would take by releasing you? You would likely return and raid this village again in the future, and what I could achieve with your knowledge would have to balance the harm that you could do. Do you know secrets about Malerix; his weaknesses, his lair, his phylactery? Do you know where there are relics from the Crusade hidden within the abandoned post you live in? Is what you know worth your life?"

Bor Metalstench wrote:

"I'd give you the information you asked for and go back to my tribe. What would you do if the situation were reversed?"

"I would do the same, if I trusted my captor. Do you feel you have information to give me that would balance the risk I would take by releasing you? You would likely return and raid this village again in the future, and what I could achieve with your knowledge would have to balance the harm that you could do. Do you know secrets about Malerix; his weaknesses, his lair, his phylactery? Do you know where there are relics from the Crusade hidden within the abandoned post you live in? Is what you know worth your life?"

"Gimme a second." With a toe claw, he starts drawing out symbols and words. Soon enough, he is done with his drawing, you do not know what language the words are in. "I'm guessing you can't read that, but that is a magical representation, written out, of where my family resides. If you can find a way to get me back to that planet and that plane, I'll talk. But one thing: I do not know where Malerix's phylactery is, I can only give you a guess. That is my bargain, if you don't accept, you may as well kill me where I sit. What say you?"

When you arrive back at the tavern, you can see that many of the people who were there earlier are now going home. The stress of a dragon attack is enough to make everyone want to be somewhere else. Maulf and his daughter are cleaning up the last of the messes left when the siren was called. He looks over at you as you walk into the main room and says, "It's good to see that you're still in one piece. I still can't believe that you went out there running after that scourge. Have a seat, and I'll have my daughter, Dwili, fetch you some stew to eat. Small beers as well? Or do you want the real stuff instead?"

Ruul nods.

"You would be surprised what sorts of foolish things a Pathfinder will run after", he answers. "Drink would be good and something to eat. A fight like that always leaves me hungry."

"The gargoyles never reached this place?"

Maulf Axebeard wrote:

When you arrive back at the tavern, you can see that many of the people who were there earlier are now going home. The stress of a dragon attack is enough to make everyone want to be somewhere else. Maulf and his daughter are cleaning up the last of the messes left when the siren was called. He looks over at you as you walk into the main room and says, "It's good to see that you're still in one piece. I still can't believe that you went out there running after that scourge. Have a seat, and I'll have my daughter, Dwili, fetch you some stew to eat. Small beers as well? Or do you want the real stuff instead?"

Ruul nods.

"You would be surprised what sorts of foolish things a Pathfinder will run after", he answers. "Drink would be good and something to eat. A fight like that always leaves me hungry."

"The gargoyles never reached this place?"

"There were gargoyles about? If there were, none made it here at all."

Soon, there are plates and bowls all over the table filled with food. "I'll leave you too it then. Let me know if you have anything to ask." The phrasing of the sentence leaves little doubt that the conversation is not yet over.

Ruul shoves a hearty spoonful of the stew into his bovine maw before waves to the innkeeper.

"We did have some questions", the bull says with a glance at Lavinia and Elen.

"We've heard rumors that you've seen the gates of Tsar firsthand. We could use all the information we can get about that place. What do you remember?"

Azaraunt looks on with interest as the diagram is drawn, as words are added he casts Comprehend Languages to aid his understanding.

Knowledge Planes: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38

Linguistics: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (6) + 17 = 23

I believe I know this place. What you ask can be done, but would require magic beyond my current ability, and would require some research to attune the spell to your home. Perhaps until that time you would ally yourself with us?

Then in Kellish, speaking to Numair, he adds
I could assist Lavinia to do this thing as clerics are more attuned to planar travel than wizards but even then we would have to purchase a scroll of Plane Shift as I do not believe her powers are up to the task. But if we stay here and explore and succeed in some of our tasks it is conceivable that within months she will be able to do this task. And if this plane is his true home then a Dismissal spell would likely send him back as well. That should be within my power within a few months as well.

Plane Shift is a 5th level spell for clerics and a 7th for Wizards. Dismissal is 5th for both I believe.

Ruul shoves a hearty spoonful of the stew into his bovine maw before waves to the innkeeper.

"We did have some questions", the bull says with a glance at Lavinia and Elen.

"We've heard rumors that you've seen the gates of Tsar firsthand. We could use all the information we can get about that place. What do you remember?"

Sighing softly, Maulf sits down, but not before he asks Dwili to bring him some stew and a small beer. After a few minutes, the bowl sits before him, with a set of actual silverware and a frosted mug of the local 'water.' Taking a spoonful of ham and potatoes, he turns slightly in his seat to look at you.

"At some point, anyone passing through to the Camp wants to hear my story. Mind if I ask who sent you over, or did you just figure it out by yourself?"

Ruul shakes his shaggy mane.

"I'm afraid it's third-hand information. It was heard around town."

Azaraunt looks on with interest as the diagram is drawn, as words are added he casts Comprehend Languages to aid his understanding.

[dice=Knowledge Planes]1d20+19

[dice=Linguistics]1d20+17

I believe I know this place. What you ask can be done, but would require magic beyond my current ability, and would require some research to attune the spell to your home. Perhaps until that time you would ally yourself with us?

Then in Kellish, speaking to Numair, he adds
I could assist Lavinia to do this thing as clerics are more attuned to planar travel than wizards but even then we would have to purchase a scroll of Plane Shift as I do not believe her powers are up to the task. But if we stay here and explore and succeed in some of our tasks it is conceivable that within months she will be able to do this task. And if this plane is his true home then a Dismissal spell would likely send him back as well. That should be within my power within a few months as well.

Plane Shift is a 5th level spell for clerics and a 7th for Wizards. Dismissal is 5th for both I believe.

You recognize what Bor wrote out as the beginning of a spell incantation. What catches your eye is the 'location' of the destination that Bor indicates: it is a planet from an alternate Prime Material plane, known locally as 'Eberron.' The incantation is written in Draconic.

"If you are asking me to fight alongside you, wizard, then I must decline. Your party would not accept me and I would not likely accept them in the long run. I am willing to offer you at least some of the information that you are requesting, in return for helping me get home. I realize that you can't do it immediately, but I have lived, if you can call it that, for over a millenia now. I am ready to complete what they call on my homeworld a 'retirement,' so that I can be with my family.

"What I ask is this: in return for my information, you let me go and I swear on my tribes honor that I will not attack you for a full year. If you can also help me go home, then I will leave behind also the location of Malerix's treasure. He considers all of Tsar to be his, but every dragon wants their pile of treasures to lie on from time to time. take your time to decide, I'm not going anywhere." Bor smiles (or at least, smiles as much as a gargoyle can), and sits on his haunches.

Ruul shakes his shaggy mane.

"I'm afraid it's third-hand information. It was heard around town."

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly a secret that I started my time here as a mercenary. I was like a lot of people who come up here; I'll go to the Camp, find some treasures or at least some stuff that I could sell back in Nerosyan or perhaps Magnimar. Retire with a sack of gold and some trophies to match. Pretty much the dwarven dream. Four months later, I'm back here, and Dwili is practically running on water to get up here and nurse me back to help. Do you want to hear of my various expeditions up there, or should I just skip to the good part?"

Ruul shrugged his thickly muscled shoulders.

"Tell us the whole story if you have the time. Every detail could be important in the end."

I can cast Dismissal now.

Yes, we'd love to hear the whole story. There's no telling what may be important to know. Also, do you happen to have any maps of the region that we could perhaps make copies of?"

Lavinia takes a seat besides Ruul and settles down to listen to the story.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (20) + 13 = 33

Returning from his survey outdoors, Calendir steps into the inn as Maulf begins spinning his tale - "Apologies for interrupting Master Dwarf..."

Turning to the assembled group he adds - "No chance to track the gargoyles back, neither through track nor scent - unless Numair manages to obtain some information from that one back there, we will find no leads to backtrack them to their origin, at least in our immediate surroundings..."

Pulling up a chair he sits down besides his companions, taking a look over the food on the table, and a serving from the ale - not wanting to interrupt any further he simply takes one of the plates from the table and sets it down next to Lagash. At the big cat's grumble he simply answers "I know, I know... Its what we have for the time being my brother." Without another sound, the feline starts digging into the food.

"Again my apologies Maulf, please do continue."

I can cast Dismissal now.

Yes, we'd love to hear the whole story. There's no telling what may be important to know. Also, do you happen to have any maps of the region that we could perhaps make copies of?"

Lavinia takes a seat besides Ruul and settles down to listen to the story.

Diplomacy 1d20+13

"Thank you, my dear. I am afraid that I've lost all of my maps over the years, mostly through people who thought that they needed them more than I did. I understand that the clanliege has many maps that might come in handy for you, depending on where you end up."

Returning from his survey outdoors, Calendir steps into the inn as Maulf begins spinning his tale - "Apologies for interrupting Master Dwarf..."

Turning to the assembled group he adds - "No chance to track the gargoyles back, neither through track nor scent - unless Numair manages to obtain some information from that one back there, we will find no leads to backtrack them to their origin, at least in our immediate surroundings..."

Pulling up a chair he sits down besides his companions, taking a look over the food on the table, and a serving from the ale - not wanting to interrupt any further he simply takes one of the plates from the table and sets it down next to Lagash. At the big cat's grumble he simply answers "I know, I know... Its what we have for the time being my brother." Without another sound, the feline starts digging into the food.

"Again my apologies Maulf, please do continue."

Maulf looks over at Lagash as he reluctantly eats the stew. "Your tiger should be so lucky to enjoy my stew." Maluf looks at you for a second, daring you to say something, then breaks out in a grin. Laughing, Maulf says "It's okay, we have a haunch of pork with some bone marrow that he can gnaw on." He leans over and, with no fear at all, scratches Lagash behind his right ear. After a few seconds of this, he yells for Dwili to fetch some pork for the beast.

He then turns back to you and says, "Don't worry, ranger, you haven't missed anything yet."

Maulf takes a couple more bites of the stew before he continues.

Maulf takes a pull of his small beer and eats a little more.

Elen murmurs in Kelish to Azaraunt and Numair, "That information could be very valuable. However, unless the dragon is very arrogant or very foolish, his phylactery is almost certain to not be in his treasure hoard. Let's study the situation further. If I understand correctly, this beast is saying he's from another plane, another world. We should find out more about how he got here. At the same time we should seem agreeable with his offer, without explicitly giving our word until we know everything."

Knowledge(planes) to aid Azaraunt: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26
Linguistics to aid Azaurant: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

Ally adds her insights as well:

Knowledge(planes): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Linguistics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

"This language is obviously High Gallifreyan... oh no, wait, that's impossible. I have no idea."

Ruul finds his hand drifting over top Lavinia's as the story goes in.

"Ghost caravan? As in a caravan full of restless spirits?"

Elen murmurs in Kelish to Azaraunt and Numair, "That information could be very valuable. However, unless the dragon is very arrogant or very foolish, his phylactery is almost certain to not be in his treasure hoard. Let's study the situation further. If I understand correctly, this beast is saying he's from another plane, another world. We should find out more about how he got here. At the same time we should seem agreeable with his offer, without explicitly giving our word until we know everything."

Perception check: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

"The problem with its phylactery is that Malerix believes that all of Tsar belongs to him. It is possible that the phylactery could be anywhere in the city. But I believe that it is not in fact in there. That it is much closer to our outpost than within the city."

Ruul finds his hand drifting over top Lavinia's as the story goes in.

"Ghost caravan? As in a caravan full of restless spirits?"

"Yea I'm afraid so. It's been around forever and travels only the main roads. As long as you don't interfere with its passing, you'll be fine. They don't typically interact with us." Pausing for breath, Maulf forges on. "Some say that it's some kind of real caravan, moving things back and forth like anything else, but in another plane or something. It's beyond my post to know about this stuff."

Ruul gives the priestess in his grasp a knowing glance before returning his attention to the dwarf.

"We are well prepared for the unquiet dead but it is good to know."

"Please. Continue your story. You encountered no other trouble on the way to Tsar?"

Elen Emerwen wrote:

Elen murmurs in Kelish to Azaraunt and Numair, "That information could be very valuable. However, unless the dragon is very arrogant or very foolish, his phylactery is almost certain to not be in his treasure hoard. Let's study the situation further. If I understand correctly, this beast is saying he's from another plane, another world. We should find out more about how he got here. At the same time we should seem agreeable with his offer, without explicitly giving our word until we know everything."

[dice=Perception check]1d20 + 12

"The problem with its phylactery is that Malerix believes that all of Tsar belongs to him. It is possible that the phylactery could be anywhere in the city. But I believe that it is not in fact in there. That it is much closer to our outpost than within the city."

Is he actually responding to what Elen said? Does he know Kelish? Since it's a language of the desert, I wouldn't think it likely.

Bor Metalstench wrote:

Elen Emerwen wrote:

Elen murmurs in Kelish to Azaraunt and Numair, "That information could be very valuable. However, unless the dragon is very arrogant or very foolish, his phylactery is almost certain to not be in his treasure hoard. Let's study the situation further. If I understand correctly, this beast is saying he's from another plane, another world. We should find out more about how he got here. At the same time we should seem agreeable with his offer, without explicitly giving our word until we know everything."

[dice=Perception check]1d20 + 12

"The problem with its phylactery is that Malerix believes that all of Tsar belongs to him. It is possible that the phylactery could be anywhere in the city. But I believe that it is not in fact in there. That it is much closer to our outpost than within the city."

Is he actually responding to what Elen said? Does he know Kelish? Since it's a language of the desert, I wouldn't think it likely.

No, but he overheard you and guessed that you are most concerned with killing the dragon. The only way you can do that is to find the phylactery, which was already brought up in the conversation.

Ruul gives the priestess in his grasp a knowing glance before returning his attention to the dwarf.

"We are well prepared for the unquiet dead but it is good to know."

"Please. Continue your story. You encountered no other trouble on the way to Tsar?"

"Well I wouldn't go so far as to say that. 'Grit storms,' that's my name for them, are a pretty common occurrence. We had to deal with a couple of those. I call it grit because, while it acts like a sandstorm in most ways, instead of sand, it's the bits of bone that actually fall off the decaying bodies strewn all over the Desolation. Those are the worst as they can kill you if you're not careful.

"Beyond that, we had a few run-ins with various creatures, some undead, but most not. We had had our fill of it by then, and we wanted the big prize so we could get the hell out of this place. It took us over a day just to reach the Crossroads, and another day to reach the outpost. The outpost took us a couple of days to clear out, and then from there it was just dealing with the dragon. 'Easy peasy,' one guy said. He was the first to go."

Maulf chews on a bit of pork fat from his stew while he lets all of that sink in.

The Bor Ultimatum

Numair replies to Elen and Azaraunt, in Kelish.

From what the clanliege told us, these creature act with honor -- or at least honor thier agreements. I believe he would refrain from attacking for a year, and tell us what he knows if we were to give him a ride home. Alas, I know of no magic carpets able to fly between worlds, nor do I know any path that leads to his. Such travel is the domain of wizards, priests, and souls. I would force no creature to live within the Desolation, and I believe that his information could be useful. If it leads us to the dragon's arcane shard, we could defeat the beast for good. I would consider giving him my parole, and consider the cost of purchasing such magic the same as paying any common snitch - forgiving minor offenses in return for taking out a true monster. Azaraunt, I go into the desolation to hone my blade and test my mettle, in addition to the charge I carry in my goddess' name. I imagine it will provide you and Elen -- and all our magical members -- the opportunity to study in ways not possible in civilization. Do you believe you, or Lavinia, can discover the knowledge necessary to accomplish such a task within the year?

Switching back to Common, he agrees with Bor.

It is no easy thing to be away from home. Tell me, how did you come to live in the Desolation? Is your home near the Hells, and you were drawn through the Wound, or did some other calamity occur? Were you mercenaries, drawn here for promised gems, or did your tribes come here willingly, and of their own accord? I wish to know. In addition, as a show of good faith, to match your own, I will remove the bonds about your hands and feet. Your wings will remain bound, and know that I also have the power of flight at my command, so do not think to try to flee. It should go without saying, but any agressive act on your part will result in your immediate death - there will be no mercy a second time if I am forced to draw my sword against you again.

Unless there are objections from Azaraunt or Elen, he will cut some of Bor's bonds, and allow him to sit in a more comfortable position.

This guy is either going to help us, or play us all for fools!

[ooc]Numair, I believe I have already answered that I believe within a few months we will be able to send this creature home, sooner if we, or he, chooses to buy a scroll of plane shift. See my post above.[/b]

Responding in

The Bor Ultimatum

Switching back to Common, he agrees with Bor.

It is no easy thing to be away from home. Tell me, how did you come to live in the Desolation? Is your home near the Hells, and you were drawn through the Wound, or did some other calamity occur? Were you mercenaries, drawn here for promised gems, or did your tribes come here willingly, and of their own accord? I wish to know. In addition, as a show of good faith, to match your own, I will remove the bonds about your hands and feet. Your wings will remain bound, and know that I also have the power of flight at my command, so do not think to try to flee. It should go without saying, but any agressive act on your part will result in your immediate death - there will be no mercy a second time if I am forced to draw my sword against you again....

Massaging his wrists for a moment, Bor shifts his position somewhat. "If you are truly curious. I will tell you a part of the information that you seek. I was born many centuries ago on a planet called Earth. I was born during a time of great chaos; most of the human population had been killed by something called 'radiation,' and many planar gates had opened up because of this. My father was there as part of some dimensional army. He procreated and I was born in the country called Russia. You know, it is amazing that the native language there and what you call 'Common,' are almost exactly the same. It is so strange to hear the language of my birth again.

"But you don't want to hear of that. It is the portals that are opened by either my masters or those who pay that takes me from world to world. That is how we came here, almost a decade ago, when Malerix hired us to be his underlings."

She pauses and thinks for a moment and then continues, in common this time, "Though, I wonder whether the world described might be in another part of the Prime Material? We might need a spell that could transport across the Dark Tapestry, rather than across planar boundaries."

"Well I wouldn't go so far as to say that. 'Grit storms,' that's my name for them, are a pretty common occurrence. We had to deal with a couple of those. I call it grit because, while it acts like a sandstorm in most ways, instead of sand, it's the bits of bone that actually fall off the decaying bodies strewn all over the Desolation. Those are the worst as they can kill you if you're not careful.

"Beyond that, we had a few run-ins with various creatures, some undead, but most not. We had had our fill of it by then, and we wanted the big prize so we could get the hell out of this place. It took us over a day just to reach the Crossroads, and another day to reach the outpost. The outpost took us a couple of days to clear out, and then from there it was just dealing with the dragon. 'Easy peasy,' one guy said. He was the first to go."

Maulf chews on a bit of pork fat from his stew while he lets all of that sink in.

Ruul's brow furrows.

"How did you protect yourselves from these Grit storms?" the bull minotaur asks. "Did it take magic or was mundane protection enough?"

Maulf Axebeard wrote:

"Well I wouldn't go so far as to say that. 'Grit storms,' that's my name for them, are a pretty common occurrence. We had to deal with a couple of those. I call it grit because, while it acts like a sandstorm in most ways, instead of sand, it's the bits of bone that actually fall off the decaying bodies strewn all over the Desolation. Those are the worst as they can kill you if you're not careful.

"Beyond that, we had a few run-ins with various creatures, some undead, but most not. We had had our fill of it by then, and we wanted the big prize so we could get the hell out of this place. It took us over a day just to reach the Crossroads, and another day to reach the outpost. The outpost took us a couple of days to clear out, and then from there it was just dealing with the dragon. 'Easy peasy,' one guy said. He was the first to go."

Maulf chews on a bit of pork fat from his stew while he lets all of that sink in.

Ruul's brow furrows.

"How did you protect yourselves from these Grit storms?" the bull minotaur asks. "Did it take magic or was mundane protection enough?"

"No, the grit and sand storms you can prepare for if you know what to look for. There is usually some kind of warning that a storm is coming. You just dig out a good spot somewhere and ride out the storm. They can last for a little while, but rarely more than an hour in the worst cases." Finishing the last of his stew, Maulf turns to look at you and Lavinia and says, "Besides all that, you want to hear how I got my butt whooped by Malerix, don't you?"

Ruul nods and takes another draw from his beer.

"Go on."

The Bor Ultimatum

Numair, I believe I have already answered that I believe within a few months we will be able to send this creature home, sooner if we, or he, chooses to buy a scroll of plane shift. See my post above.

My bad. I was sure I had read that, but it slipped my mind when I was typing my reply.

In Kelish, That is good to know. I certainly hope we are still alive a year from now! I will see what else I can discover.

To Bor, When you say you will not attack us, what do you mean? I would need a more specific answer before I could consider agreeing to your bargain. Also, this Oerth, this Rousha that you mentioned: is that your home, the one you wish to be sent to?

Ruul nods and takes another draw from his beer.

"Go on."

"It wasn't even close. That dragon can be scary fast. But the thing is that it doesn't use magic, or at least none that I could see. It might have some magic items on it though, I was never sure. We thought that our weapons would be enough in melee, and we had two wizards for throwing spells and a priest to heal us. But it wasn't enough, not even close." Maulf pauses for a moment, and starts again, measuring each word as if from a thimble.

"It was the bile that did it. A dragon can throw fire, or cold, or even acid. But it can only do so once, maybe twice a minute. Malerix just keeps throwing up. It is almost constant, how often he do that." Maulf makes a slight gurgling sound when thinking about this. "It's worse than acid, as it burns, but if it hits you full on, which is easy to do, then you get mired in it. You start to choke, there's no air to breathe, and your skin (even if fully clothed) feels like it's on fire. You can only hope and pray that you get out of the stuff before you die. I was hit twice with that stuff. The first time, I almost got out of the way, but it got stuck to my boot. I was hit fully almost immediately from his next attack. By then, over half of our party was so entombed." Maulf sniffs noisily and then drinks the rest of his beer.

"Only two of us crawled away from that, myself and our wizard, Karom. The rest died on their feet from suffocation, so far as we know. We couldn't save them, hell, we could only get one person out of that muck, and he had been dead for several minutes. Malerix had apparently decided that we were no threat and actually took off in flight. Not that it mattered, we couldn't have fought if we wanted to, we were so exhausted from just pulling on that slime. We dragged our friend back to that outpost, where Karom tried to revive him, but his magics weren't strong enough. By the time we got back to the Camp, another three days had passed. At that time, there were no powerful healers that could revive our friend. We buried him properly, and then set to our own wounds. I was near death's door myself by then. I had taken many burns from the slime and my flesh was so raw and burned it was almost black. It took almost six months to heal, and I still have some scars from it. Karom himself died a few days after coming back, apparently some wounds are worse than others." Pausing one more time, Maulf continues, this time with a wintry smile.

"By then, Dwili had come up and began taking care of me. We decided that I wasn't fit for travel, but I sure as hell didn't want to spend my days in the Camp. So I compromised, and moved down here. I sold most of my gear, as well as Karom's, to some others looking for equipment up there. It was more than enough to start this place. And that's where I've been every since." Maulf gives you a piercing stare. "I'd give anything to see that dragon dead for all the things he did to my friends. But these days, my knees go watery just at the sound of his name. If I never go back up there, it will be too soon for my tastes."

The Bor Ultimatum

Azaraunt wrote:

Numair, I believe I have already answered that I believe within a few months we will be able to send this creature home, sooner if we, or he, chooses to buy a scroll of plane shift. See my post above.

My bad. I was sure I had read that, but it slipped my mind when I was typing my reply.

In Kelish, That is good to know. I certainly hope we are still alive a year from now! I will see what else I can discover.

To Bor, When you say you will not attack us, what do you mean? I would need a more specific answer before I could consider agreeing to your bargain. Also, this Oerth, this Rousha that you mentioned: is that your home, the one you wish to be sent to?

"I mean that, if we should meet on the field of battle again, I will yield to you. I will tell my wing to allow you to pass. Will that suffice?"

Looking down at his drawing in the sand, Bor looks up and says only one word. "Da."

Elen takes a sheet of paper from her pack and offers it to Bor once Numair frees his hands. "If it's not too much trouble, could you draw the diagram again, in a more portable form?"

Elen takes a sheet of paper from her pack and offers it to Bor once Numair frees his hands. "If it's not too much trouble, could you draw the diagram again, in a more portable form?"

"I can. Do you have something that I can use as a backing so that you can read this accurately? I don't know much about how magic works, but I do know that for something like this, accuracy counts."

Elen provides the Gargoyle with a board to allow him to draw comfortably, and while she is at it, also sets up a folding chair for him. When your subject becomes cooperative, be generous and helpful to him in return, to encourage further cooperation, she thinks, remembering some of the tactics of interrogation she had learned from a number of wise teachers.

Elen provides the Gargoyle with a board to allow him to draw comfortably, and while she is at it, also sets up a folding chair for him. When your subject becomes cooperative, be generous and helpful to him in return, to encourage further cooperation, she thinks, remembering some of the tactics of interrogation she had learned from a number of wise teachers.

"Thank you," Bor says when you hand him the board. Looking at the chair, however, poses a problem. He is bound still in such a way that there's no easy way to sit, and perching on it would just cause him to fall over. He nods politely but remains cross-legged on the ground. Within a few moments, the drawing is complete.

Lavinia listens intently to Maulf's story, especially the part about most of his party dieing trapped under the tar-like bile that the dragon spits up.

"We were quite lucky that our wizard was able to put up a shield before the dragons vomit covered us. We could have easily perished this day as well."

Oops, I thought his feet had been unbound as well. Ignore the bit about the chair if it would have been obvious that it wouldn't have worked.

Oops, I thought his feet had been unbound as well. Ignore the bit about the chair if it would have been obvious that it wouldn't have worked.

Not a problem. :)

Lavinia listens intently to Maulf's story, especially the part about most of his party dieing trapped under the tar-like bile that the dragon spits up.

"We were quite lucky that our wizard was able to put up a shield before the dragons vomit covered us. We could have easily perished this day as well."

Calendir nods at Lavinia's comment - "Yes... We were lucky to survive without any casualties. I don't think I would have... Nevermind, we are all here - one more lesson learned."

The wizard studies the diagram again. Nodding he says, Bor, I believe we can send you home within a year's time. Not only you, but possibly some of your wing as well, if you want them to go with you. But for this you must also agree not to act against us in any way. Can you agree to this?

LM, you will have to decide if the diagram is enough to use to do a Plane Shift to this plane. The spell seems to imply that if you know of the plane you can shift creatures to it. D&D used to require a tuning fork attuned to each particular plane, but that seems to have been lost.

"I'd give anything to see that dragon dead for all the things he did to my friends. But these days, my knees go watery just at the sound of his name. If I never go back up there, it will be too soon for my tastes."

"If that creature stands between us and Tsar, I promise you it will fall", the minotaur rumbles with authority. "And it will be at least in part thanks to the information you've shared with us."

I feel like we've been in Gundren forever...