"And you all in kind," Baird responded, also having gotten to his feet when they entered. He eyed Imperia a bit quizzically, not understanding how she could be so blasé about dwarfdom, but held his peace. He hated to be judged by his height, too.
He looked Boreyn up and down with brash approval. So this was an Ore Chanter! He couldn't wait to see the old fellow in action! "An honor to join you," he said, turning his eager grin on Kurth and Imperia as well. "Anyone else coming, or can we get started?" He smacked his fist into his palm in excitement, then elbowed Talas jovially. "You two know the way, right? What are we waitin' for?"
Talas's eyebrows arch up near his hairline at Imperia's words, but then he smiles slowly.
"On your height? Of course not. Only humans would judge by the size of the physical form.... But I do judge by race, for blood calls to blood and creates a... a resonance of type. Rocks have more in common with other rocks than they do with trees, no matter if one is quartz from underground and the other a river pebble found in a forest. Common traits assert themselves. Dwarves, for instance, tend to forthrightness, to speaking their mind regardless of company, and to fierce personal pride... all of which you display admirably."
At Kurth's words the smile disappears again, and the elf sighs and ceases his ramble. "Yes. Well. One could wish for more than one elf present, but I am what you have, I fear."
Baird's enthusiasm puts the smile back on Talas's face again, although it's somewhat muted. He exaggerates rubbing at his ribs where the youthful elbow caught him.
"I know the way as it was in better days, Baird. Let us remember that many before us have gone, and that caution will serve us well."
Imperia makes a face and snorts. "That's ridiculous. You're saying that a person's relatives are more important than the culture in which they were raised. I have more in common with my neighbors than I do with Mister Steelhymn here." She glances over at Boreyn and says "No offense."
Looking back at Talas, she shakes her head. "Humans tend to forthrightness as well, at least those raised in cultures that esteem that trait. Personal pride, as well. You might as well say that dwarves tend to be overly critical of themselves or that elves prefer variety and change and become dissatisfied when hemmed in by restrictive rules or arbitrary limitations."
"Those are vague, generally positive generalizations that anybody would tend to accept about themselves. That's the kind of thing con artists use to trick people into believing them." The young dwarf shakes her head. "It might be a new concept to you, but I want to be judged on my own merits, not because you knew some people who looked like me 200 years ago."
She gives Talas a small smile. "And I don't know about elf girls, but if you call this dwarf girl a rock again, she's going to find a ladder and punch you in the nose."
Boreyn squints his eyes and rattles his brain as Talas mentions Boreyn being the reason for their visit to Drogic.
"Me? What could an elf want wit..." As Talas recalls Boreyn's singing from the past, Boreyn looks even closer at Talas. One could see the gears working in his mind and then finally the moment of recognition dawns at precisely the time Talas mentions his own name.
"Talas Arduinn!" Boreyn exclaims at the same time as Talas himself.
"Forgive me for not noticing, I alreayd have problems with recognizing newly grown-up dwarves from the time I've tutored them. Suffice to say that elves grow up even slower than us dwarves. Aye, please be welcome in our attempt to reclaim Dammerhall, it was your home as good as it was mine."
He nods quickly to Baird from inside his chair and eyes him approvingly.
"Eagerness is a good trait Baird, though you should be careful not letting it turn into rashness, many of the finest dwarves were lost like that." Boreyn grabs the little black book he has from his pack and taps it softly with the other hand.
"All of them will be remembered forever, the ones that have tried, the ones that were lost and the ones that will succeed."
"I have found a new way into the underdark and eventually Dammerhall. I can't guarantee any safe passage there, as this passage was not previously recorded in dwarven history. We're with four proud dwarves and an equally stout elf, I think we have a good chance, though we'd need to find a native guide after our first stop."
When Imperia mentions her upbringing being more important than her race, Boreyn looks troubled.
"Though you might have a point there Imperia, you could understand Talas and my point of view as well right? Talas didn't mean any offence, but the way he and I remember dwarves, they have a cultural identity of their own. In the two centuries after Dammerhall fell, dwarven culture was lost as they integrated within human society. We're not saying dwarven society is better than the humans, but dwarves here in Skelt seem to not even want to remember that they had an own identity once. It was good to see several of the dwarven traits in you, regardless of its origin."
Imperia shrugs. "If I was raised in Dammerhall, I could see your point. But I wasn't. My parents weren't even raised there. They were Chelish, now Nirmathi. I understand what you're saying, but Skelt isn't the tunnels and forges of a dwarven city. It's an open city with people of every race. Here you're whatever you make of yourself. You don't have to act or be a certain way. We could've just as easily ended up Druman bankers if grandpa had gone east instead of north."
She shakes her head and sighs. "I understand what you're saying. But it's not how I was raised. If you want to attribute me being good with machines to me being a dwarf, fine, but I say it's because dad's the best damn clockmaker in Skelt and I learned at his knee. Does it matter? I want to see the forges and drawing rooms of the ancient engineers. Who care where my interest comes from?"
"I don't care as much, I'm glad to have another inquisitive dwarf amongst us. But don't hold it against us if Talas and I dawdle on a possible inheritance of certain skills you have." Boreyn looks at Imperia with a sparkle in his eyes, as though a grandfather would look at someone, knowing something more than the one he's looking at.
"At the very least we will need skills such as yours, as well as skills like Kurth's, Baird's, Talas's and my own to restore Dammerhall to its former stature. My hope is that more dwarves will remember where they've come from and flock to help us. I'd hate to see all our lore and traditions get lost in time. And I thank you Imperia for wanting to help us, for whatever reason that may be. I thank all of you, for your help."
"It's my duty and honor, Master Boreyn. As it should be for all dwarves. I've wanted to be a part of this expedition since I first heard your songs as a lad. I won't pass judgment on anyone here, or their reasons for wanting to go. You're here. That's enough for me."
"And don't think we're mocking your home or your ways, Imperia. You are who you are. And you'll be, whoever you choose to be. But kin matters. History matters. And, aye, so does home. And we lost all three, when we lost Dammerhall. And we aim to take back what we can and repay what's lost."
Kurth smiled a bit mischievously.
"And pay no mind to being called a rock. It's the best compliment that could be paid."
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Talas smiles at Boreyn's recognition of him, inclining his head towards the other 'old man' of the little group.
Imperia's answer again makes him arch his brows, lips twitching slightly as she expresses her opinion of his words.
There is the tiniest of eyerolls when Boreyn says that We're not saying dwarven society is better than the humans -- Boreyn might not be saying that, but Talas thinks it's rather self-evident truth. Ah, well; it seems that with two centuries, Boreyn has grown into someone who owns a tactful tongue, to soothe and reconcile tempers.
Idly, Talas wonders if maybe he might have had more success with the council in Kyonin if he had ever learned to temper his tongue as well. Perhaps. It's a what-if that has no bearing on the moment, though.
Aloud, he says only, "Kurth has the right of it that I meant no insult, but rather praise, with my comparison. After all, it is only amid the rocks that one finds the purest diamonds and the brightest mithral. But if you would not be referred to as a rock--" or as a dwarf, Talas thinks, "--then I shall not do it again."
That said, he looks back to Boreyn. "Another entrance?" he exclaims. "Have you a map? Where did you hear of such a thing? I have encountered no records of such either-- please, tell me more, and I'll forgive that you did not recognize me."
Baird lowered his head respectfully when Boreyn spoke of the honored dead. His fingers itched to read the elder dwarf's little black book, and learn of all the valiant dwarves that had gone before... and perhaps why they had failed. Maybe he'll tell us about them once we get going.
The more Imperia spoke, the longer Baird stared at her. Her disinterest in her heritage struck him as both bizarre and foolish... but he didn't want to make any waves, not now. I just hope her work is better than her sense, he thought with a trace of grumpy outrage, which was quickly laid to rest by Kurth's wise words.
If he could have pricked his ears at Boreyn's mention of a new route, he would have. As it was, he leaned across the table they sat at as though it might help him hear better. All the same, he spared a moment to glance at Talas, a bit worried. The poor old elf hadn't ajusted well to life on the road, which was bound to be easier than trekking through the underground - especially if this new route was rough. He'd have to see about taking along that extra bedroll, carrying it for his old friend. There was no need for Talas to make it harder on himself than necessary, after all.
When Drogic returned with more ale, the others were having arguments between them about what it means to be a Dwarf, and the elder smiled despite himself. 'Ah, children.' he thought. 'With luck they may not all die in the Dark.'
He remained quiet during the discussion, his shining eyes moving between people as they spoke, trying to gather up as much as he could, and looking deep in thought throughout it, as though he were trying to make a decision. Only when Talas and Boreyn begin to discuss the plan does he clear his throat.
"It warms me heart to see you all so excited for this little venture of yours - especially an elf. However, before you talk specifics, I believe we should have everyone present."
As everyone stares in confusion, he announces loudly, "You can come out now." After a few seconds... nothing happens. "Oh, right." He mutters quietly, and getting up walks out of the room. He returns a few minutes later, his large rough hand wrapped in that of a small, young-looking Halfling.
"I wanted to see that you were all going to be responsible before I brought her out," he explains gruffly. "Don't know how old she is for sure - but you'll have to take care of her." He looks around as if embarrassed as he says the next thing. "Dreams brought her to me. Now, I'm sure that sounds crazy to most of you, can't says I understand it myself, but I feel it in my gut that she's important, and you'll need her."
Vannah came along with Drogic placidly enough. She didn't smile at the others when they emerged, and she seemed to find being led around by the hand as natural as breathing.
She appears to have some understanding of how odd she must seem, making half an obscure gesture with her free hand and just stands a moment, staring blankly at each of them in awkward silence. Her annoyingly large doe eyes eventually land on Steelhymn and stay there, but she still doesn't say anything.
Talas arches a bemused white brow at the girl's? woman's? demeanor, and then turns the arched brow on Drogic as well.
"....I am likelier than many to believe in omens and portents, and I have respect for the lady called Desna and the gifts she sends to sleepers, but... are we to be minders?"
Gray eyes track back to the halfling. Talas shrugs after a second, then bows to the diminutive female, one hand over his heart. Courtesy is courtesy.
"Well met; have you a name, miss?" he says, switching back to the Common tongue with some reluctance. He hasn't quite put two-and-two together yet on Drogic having had to go fetch her, rather than call her.
Baird wasn't quite as concerned with courtesy as Talas. "You want to send a little girl with us down below? I was under the impression that it was a dangerous venture - that's no place for a child!"
Vannah transfers her hand over to Talas' easily enough, apparently having interpreted his greeting as an invitation to take over. She had no answer as to a name, but she did examine his face for a long moment before nodding gravely.
She did smile at Baird though - she didn't have to hear to see his expression. She put a finger to her lips, universally 'shh'. Then she points at her feet, typically oversized and lightly furry. Light pours off of the fastening for his cloak, brightening up the room, perhaps so he can see it better. Somehow, she did that without speaking. Then she winks and her face resettles into emotionless.
Boreyn studies the small female for a while, taking her entire shape and size into consideration and nodded quite quickly as he determined her troubles and her race.
"It seems a prophet would be very handy indeed." He starts talking to her, making sure he articulates everything as best as he could. His voice also sounds a little heavier and echoes more than it did before, it sounds like he's using a different tone, perhaps usually more for chanting.
"Baird, don't frey too much about her. She's a halfling, look at her feet. Most of them could pass for human children if they so wish."
He looks sharply at her and then continues while maintaining eye contact with her.
"And by her demeanor she might be deaf as well I'd reckon. Most prophets give up something for their visions into the future, why not their hearing."
"So Drogic, it seems you're still full of surprises. You didn't mention her before to me when I came here a few days back. I'll take her along and look after her if no-one objects but if you have a book lying around here about Sign language, I'd be much obliged to borrow it. I'd like to communicate with her even if she can't hear me."
Talas arches a brow at the suggestion the girl... well, woman... is deaf. He looks her again, then purses his lips and digs into his pack, sitting at his feet, for spellbook and... dammit, has he lost his quill again? Ugh, this traveling on the road lifestyle is not kind to a scholar.
"Yes. A book of signs would be convenient," he mutters as he rummages. "I shudder to think of how we'll communicate in the darkness of the underground should our light sources fail, and neither signs nor text can be seen."
Baird muttered to himself under his breath. The halfling seemed far too meek to make a journey such as theirs, prophet or no prophet. But it seemed the elders wanted her along, and Baird did respect his elders... mostly.
"We dwarves can see in the black, Master Talas," he reminded the elf gently. "Does the girl know signs already?" He stooped to eye her, though he did think twice about poking her with a thick finger as well. Instead he settled for asking, "Or can she read lips well enough?"
"She cannot," Talas answered with lips pursed, to the point of 'seeing in the dark'. "And it's she who will have to see, to understand us."
In truth, he's just about as pleased as Baird is about this development-- he has little enough experience with halflings, and his (somewhat self-indulgent) mental image of the journey had involved himself, elven envoi to the dwarven peoples, and a number of promising young dwarves like Baird, and Boreyn to play wise elder dwarf and.... and now there's a halfling. Hrmph. A deaf and mute halfling. Hrrmmph.
Still, he manages to keep his displeasure mostly hidden. He reminds himself that it is rude to speak of someone as though they are not in the room, even if they cannot hear you.
"Master Drogic, have you a quill? I seem to have misplaced mine," he asks their host.
The halfling points at Baird, almost touching his forehead right between his eyes. She smiled again and laughed, a surprisingly normal sound. She pointed at a cup on the table, and that glows as well. She nods a bit.
Talas sighs at the display of magical light.
"Yes, miss, I can do that too. And in the deep of the earth, when we need to be unnoticed, light will shine like a beacon to the eyes of every night-thing down there. The point is that we cannot communicate with you by sound, in instances where light might be dangerous, do you see? Or in places of mystical darkness, such as many foul subterranean creatures command. We cannot whisper warnings to you, if needed."
Vannah just tilted her head slightly, clearly not catching all of that, if any. She waves at the light and it goes out. Then she produces her own little quill to hand to him.
Imperia sighs and shakes her head. "This is going to work great."
Boreyn looks at Baird and Imperia, then at Talas and Vannah.
"I had hoped she could read our lips at least. Don't fret about it Imperia, we can communicate with her through the written language at first. If it is needed she and I will learn sign language together, so she can communicate quicker with me than just write it down."
Boreyn looks up at Drogic, his eyebrows raised.
"Don't tell me you don't have at least one book on sign language?"
Drogic looks with surprise and disappointment at most of the reactions to the deaf child. He had expected better than this from them. To Baird he says, "There was a time when Dwarven children ran free all over those rocks. Having her with you may remind you of that, son. If you want to free the Underdark, you free it for all of us."
"Besides, if you cannot protect one girl, how do you expect to unite the entire Dwarven people?"
"So Drogic, it seems you're still full of surprises. You didn't mention her before to me when I came here a few days back. I'll take her along and look after her if no-one objects but if you have a book lying around here about Sign language, I'd be much obliged to borrow it. I'd like to communicate with her even if she can't hear me."
"I wanted to be certain," Drogic replies mysteriously. Whether he means certain about Boreyn or certain about the girl, he does not say. Instead he nods, "Aye, I have a book on Sign Language... You might find it even more useful than you'd imagine..." Leaving the room only briefly, Drogic returns with a decent-sized Tome that looks to be both ancient and entirely hand-written. The cover is littered with runes shapes that seem nonsensical. "It's an old relic from the early days of Dammerhall, not unlike myself" he explains, with a chuckle. "Should you follow it, this book will teach you the Sign Language of the Drow."
Handing the book to Boreyn, he turns to the others. "I am sure that you would dream of avoiding the Drow, but from what I hear, and the girl's dreams... if you believe them... that's getting more and more difficult to do... Especially given that the route that Boreyn and I have prepared will take you through the Fungal Jungle, and dangerously close to at least one Drow outpost."
At the mention of the drow, Talas laughs, in the fashion of a man who has just had terrible suspicions confirmed. "...Yes. Foul creatures that command mystical darkness, like... the drow. Oh, this will be splendid."
He shakes his head with a bit of a sigh, and inclines his head towards Drogic. "This... young lady... and her condition... is an unexpected complication, Master Drogic. But if you say that the omens lead towards it-- if you feel that we will, as you say, need her, then... I, for one, promise to protect and guide her to the best of my ability, so sworn by starlight and moonlight and noon-day sun."
He takes the quill and ink the halfling has offered and opens his spellbook to its blank pages at the rear. Skritch, skritch; his handwriting is long and slanted, looping through the Common characters.
Thank you. Have you a name? I am called Talas. Shall I give you the names of the others?
Vannah takes the book to write back her own writing quick and scribbled, used to writing quickly and to the point.
'Vannah. Yes please thanks' obviously she was well-practiced in writing.
"She is called Vannah," Talas informs the others who can't read over his shoulder, so that they can stop referring to her as 'her', at least. What had his mother always said? 'She' is the kitchen cat! Mind your manners!
Quick skritches in answer (if not as quick as Vannah's). Between each name, Talas pauses to point at the respective dwarf the name belongs to.
Boreyn Steelhymn. Leader.
Baird. Warrior. Someday, Talas thinks, he'll get to introduce the lad by his proper name....
Imperia Wardroxan-Grayblade. Who does... what, other than reject her heritage? Talas pauses a moment, than writes: Expert with devices.
Kurth Silvermug. Priest. At least, that was what he'd gathered from the introduction.
Chastened, at least slightly, by Drogic and Talas' words, Baird patted Vannah's shoulder gingerly. "We'll do our level best to keep... Vannah safe, aye. What's one more to look after?" He grinned insouciantly at Talas, fully expecting a jibe in return.
At least they wouldn't have to guess at what Vannah meant, if they took a notebook and stick of charcoal or a quill and inkpot along. To be honest, he was quite interested to learn the signs of the drow. He'd heard some awfully tall tales about them (at least, he assumed they must be tall tales), and if they ran into any it'd be good to know what the slippery devils were signing to each other.
Hopefully their sign language wasn't confined to what bugs to worship or who to poison next.
Sitting back down, he drained his mug, smacking his lips appreciatively, then leaned his (relatively) long frame back in his chair. "So, before we leave, perhaps we all should learn just a few of those signs? Learning on the go is all good and well, but I'd like to know the bare necessities before we head into trouble."
Kurth stared intently at Vannah. Halflings were a tricky lot to predict. They seemed to thrive on being underestimated.
Finally he nodded.
"The woman seems brave enough. She'll do. She'll do just fine."
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Imperia doesn't look the least bit convinced by Drogic's appeal to higher principles, but she does seem interested in learning sign language. She nods at Baird. "All of us learning at least a few signs would be useful. We could even use them between ourselves, in the dark."
Vannah scooted the peer at the book herself. She pointed at it, and smiled, nodding.
"That's wise, Baird," Talas says approvingly to the young dwarf at his suggestion they learn some basic signs right now, while they have the luxury of study. In a fluid, lilting tongue he adds on-- the words directed at Baird and the elf's eyes crinkling at the corners--
"Hän saattaa olla vähemmän ongelmia kuin sinua, kauhea lapsi..."
Talas defers to Boreyn on where in the book of drown runes-and-signs to start, although he does sigh to himself at the thought of learning the language of his corrupted, very-distant cousins. Ah well. It will probably be useful, he has to admit.
"Aye it would be good to learn this sign language for more than one reason. It's good to know what you're enemy is saying. Luckily most of us dwarves have good vision in the dark, we should be able to communicate quite easily with each other even in the darker depths around Dammerhall."
Boreyn looks to Drogic and pulls out his own map from his pack, a quick copy of the one he and Drogic made for their route.
"Getting back to business eh? What drogic tells you is true, our initial route takes us through the Fungal Jungle, of course it's aptly named for the things that grow there so we'd ought to be on guard for any moving fungus there. The drow however are a more standard enemy, though they won't expect an expedition and we might have the element of surprise on them, we should do well to stay clear of them if we don't have to. Unless we could take the whole camp out, it's best to not alert the drow to our presence in the Underdark."
Boreyn seems to grin as Talas is teasing Baird in Elven speech.
No need for him to know I've gone lengths to study the elven language myself. This new sign language shouldn't be too hard as well.
"Not sure we'll get much use out of learning the dark elves language. A hammer to the skull is pretty universally understood," Kurth said with a chuckle.
"This hand language could be very useful though."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Imperia grimaces. "Does your map take us through a drow camp?" She leans over to look at the map. "I wouldn't count on us surprising any dark elves in their own territory. Best hope we avoid them altogether."
Vannah stood on her tip-toes to peer at the map, and ran a finger around said Drow camp, apparently agreeing with Imperia and Boreyn.
Baird chuckled and patted Talas' shoulder. "Jokainen vanhempi sukupolvi ajattelee nuorempi sukupolvi koostuu kauhea lasten, vanhus."
He eyed the map, trying to memorize it as well as he could. "Good sense! In that vein, how do you sign, 'horrible death this way?'"
Drogic's eyes sparkle as he sees the enthusiasm for most of them to learn the Drow language. "Ye may be able to avoid the Drow encampment entirely," he agrees, pausing before admitting. "It's been many years since I've been under the mountains. Things may yet have changed. But this is the route that I would take."
"My daughter is meant to be around the Fungal Jungle, and may be of some assistance to you as well. I'd urge you to be careful of the Dwarves you might see all the same. Those who stayed below have become a bit closed off to outsiders."
"Anyway. Yer first stop will be here," he points to Fasturvalt. "The gnomes may have some items worth trading for to help yer journey. From there you'll head up the Fungal Jungle. Your eventually destination is up at the Great Jumping Off Point. That'll take ye deeper into the Underdark."
Boreyn looks over the map and nods approvingly.
"The Fungal Jungle is a pretty large expanse, but it's probably safer than the part indicated as 'The Dark Road'. We could inquire more about that and the 'Diamond Lake' when we arrive in Fasturvalt."
He points to the map and the town of Fasturvalt.
"We have different options in routes we could take to get to the 'Great jumping Off Point, hopefully that name doesn't imply the need to actually jump and fall very far. But we could either take the route via the Diamond Lake or travel eastwards from Fasturvalt and approach the Fungal Jungle from the south. I'd prefer to not use the minor passages unless we absolutely have to, things might be lurking there that the underground gnomes and dwarves would run away from. We might do best to avoid such situations."
Kurth nods.
"Very well, Fasturvalt first and then we can better plan out our route. How soon can we leave? First light tomorrow? Or does anyone need to wait on supplies?"
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Imperia shrugs. "From up here they all sound like equally bad options. We might want to talk about re-planning once we're on the ground down there." She shakes her head at Kurth's question. "I just need time to pack. I should be good for supplies from what I've got at home."
"I would suggest at least getting a good amount of rope with us, in caverns such as where we're heading, a good length of rope can be a lifesaver."
"If the gnomes have something worth trading for, maybe we should bring along something to trade with. Drogic, do you know what the gnomes might be interested in?"
Imperia nods at Boreyn. "I know we've got a coil of rope at home. If that's not enough I know a place to buy some."
"If the gnomes have something worth trading for, maybe we should bring along something to trade with. Drogic, do you know what the gnomes might be interested in?"
The old Dwarf shrugs at Baird's question. "Many of the things taken for granted up here can be valuable down below. It's a world without daylight. Most of their vegetables are mushrooms, most of their alcohol is mushrooms. They have no fruits to speak of. A little bit can go a long way in such a place."
"Can't imagine it matters much whether you leave tonight or tomorrow. The entrance is only maybe two hours away, and once you get inside, you'll rapidly forget what day it is, let alone what time of day it is. It's perpetually night."
If the thought of becoming an erstwhile fruit merchant upset Baird, he didn't show it. "Fruit, then. That should be simple enough; maybe a basket or sack or two. Perhaps a mule to haul it? I'll go see what can be had. Don't leave without me!"
"Bah, mules. We're dwarves! If there's one thing we know, it's how to haul," Kurth said with a smile on his face.
It's nice to be around such sturdy young chaps, Talas thinks. Good strong backs for carrying things.
"Perhaps some spices?" Talas offers with an arch of his brow. "I would imagine there's only so many ways to prepare mushrooms before one is quite craving the taste of anything else."