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"I gladly volunteer to see these folks safely back to the surface." Kynrael begins to survey the room and slain mites for a moment before continuing, "We should see about distributing some of this gear as well. Gods willing, it won't come to it, but I'd feel more comfortable if they had weapons to defend themselves with."
"Infected?" Kynrael's face washes over with concern upon hearing the miner's words. "Tell us exactly what these 'cockroaches' did to you, if you could. We've a wizard of our own, and he may know something more about it." Kynrael fetches his cooking kit from his bags, and sets out some small bowls. He holds his hand out over them and closes his eyes for a moment, a small chant making its way through his lips. As he opens his eyes, water begins to fill all of the bowls, which he then sets to distributing among the prisoners.
Kynrael retrieves the silver longsword from the weapon rack. Admiring it momentarily, he turns to the group. "I doubt this blade would be first choice for any of us, but a silver blade might come in handy. I was told during my time at the Temple of Iomedae that such weapons are particularly effective against certain creatures." "We should all take one of the keys off the dead ones as well. Never know what might happen further in." Kynrael kneels down over the pulpy mess of the mite he recently ended, fishing out the key from the gory remains. He tucks it gently into his coin purse and stands up once more, turning his eyes towards the northern hallway.
Kynrael growls as the mite lands a blow, and makes to return the favor, unleashing a flurry of swings from high above.
Oh no you don't! I remember what you buggers can do. Kynrael barrels forward into the flash beetle, delivering a strike intended to crush the creature between hammer and wall.
Kynrael grunts in what seems to be disapproval before bellowing out a response. "These ones are a fair dealer smaller than the other ones we've seen. Might be workers. Might even be children. Regardless, they seem to be offering no fight. I see no reason to waste time on them. Tying them up might be worse than killing them if we don't find our way back here later." Kynrael leans over the pit briefly for a second, checking to see if anything other than garbage or refuse remains beneath.
"There's bound to be more doors outside in the corridor. Probably worth a look."
The darkness clinging to the ceiling of the hallway attempts to mask Kynrael's features, though the result is an eerie result. From chest to head, he is cloaked in shadows - save for his eyes and halo. They appear as two silver wisps high above. They turn to regard Pork as the goblin's arrow finishes off the mite, and Kynrael nods in acknowledgement to Pork's killing blow. As the tide of battle wanes, however, so too do the telling signs of Kynrael's angelic heritage. Argor begins speaking as these vestiges trail off completely, prompting Kynrael to say, "If we are agreed that the time for stealth has passed..." Kynrael approaches the nearest doorway lining the circular room and makes to open it.
Kynrael grunts angrily as he prepares another blow against the mite. The thing is so small now I can barely keep track of him. Probably better if I stop aiming for precise blows and just flatten the thing! Gaining a new appreciation for his hammer's now immense size, Kynrael brings the weapon down in a quick strike.
I'm still here. Had a lot of unexpected social activities over the last couple of days and slacked off on computer-related stuffs. Guess everyone's trying to get their cookouts out of the way before it gets cold on 'em.
Kynrael's eyes widen for a moment as the corridor begins shrinking around him. It soon dawns on him what has transpired however, and he returns his ire to the mite beneath. His hand tightens around the grip of his warhammer, and he unleashes another vicious swing - adjusting for the reduced amount of maneuvering room - at the dead scorpion's previous rider.
Attack Roll:
Kynrael steps forward, straddling one of the immense scorpion's pincers as he attempts to deliver a fatal blow to the dismounted rider. His face twists angrily as he cries, "Iodtau vau zain Erum-Hel cheth'gimpeschin kuff'memsameth!"
Celestial:
"Just as The Inheritor smote Erum-Hel to the depths of Orv, so too shall you be laid low!"
Kynrael hurries towards the charging creatures and attempts to bring his hammer down on the scorpion.
Kynrael shakes his head briefly upon witnessing the carnage of the room. If those are the bodies of the missing townsfolk... whatever else is down here had better pray - pray to whatever depraved Gods they serve for mercy, for I shall show them none. Seeing no exit from this area, he turns back towards the chamber where the brief scuffle with the mites took place. As he returns, he calls back quietly, "I'll leave that mess to you all. Going to make sure they don't pin us up in there. If there are others, I'm sure they heard the death cries of their brethren."
Kynrael surges forward to the last remaining mite, eyes trailing silver as he makes to end the miserable creature's existence.
Kynrael snorts derisively at his would-be assailant, delivering a blow intended to drive the creature into the ground like a nail.
The halo-crown above Kynrael's head begins to waver and dissipate. He does not react in any way to what Rois says. As his breathing calms on the heels of the brief scrap that just took place, he turns to look at his wounded friend. "Looks like that one took a liking to you, yeah?" Kynrael pokes the smashed beetle with the tip of his hammer. "Let's see if I can't do something about those nasty bites." Kynrael approaches Rois again, chanting lowly as he attempts to once more call upon Iomedae's favor.
What manner of fiend keeps beasts such as these for pets? Kynrael's eyes linger on the dead scorpions a moment. His gaze roams to Pork soon, however, as he says, "Fine display of marksmanship, Pork. I can see the Marshal's appraisal of your prowess was not misinformed."
Kynrael brings his hammer around once more, stepping forward and attempting to smash the beetle's head against the ground.
Attack:
Kynrael notices Rois' condition, and surges forward to assist. A few whispered incantations later, he extends a hand and places it on Rois' chest. Kynrael's eyes and halo flare a bright gold momentarily, as Iomedae's mercy surges through his body and into his wounded friend.
Kynrael attempts to shake off the last vestiges of the light burst and raises his hammer above his head once more, swinging towards the beetle in a wide arc.
Kynrael is caught off guard by the beetle's burst of light. Squinting and gritting teeth, he attempts to deliver a crushing blow to the beetle directly in front of him.
Seeing the enormous creatures scuttle into the courtyard only seems to embolden Kynrael. He raises shield before their advance, trusting in both armor and divine favor to see him through the worst of it.
Yep, map looks good to me.
Kynrael steps up to the doorway and gives his shield three solid whacks with his warhammer. Above his head, a translucent, silver halo appears, shaped vaguely like a king's crown. "Whoever you are below, stand forward and declare yourselves," Kynrael begins. The halo takes full shape, the radiance of its silver trailing wisps of energy. He continues calling down the stairs, though the words begin twisting into a strange language: "Declare yourselves before the Free Militia, or memthes aleph pedalethiod sameth'nun vauhedaleth!"
Celestial:
...like the Lord-in-Iron, I shall break you beneath my blows!
"Very well! If there are no objections, I think I'll go knock on the door." Kynrael smiles slightly as he approaches the opening, hammer drawn and shield at the ready.
Tried asking some friends of mine if any of them would be interested; still no word there.
"I can see fine in the dark. I think fighting them here at the doorway would afford us the upper hand, however. If we would prefer to take the fight to them, however, I am willing and able." Kynrael punctuates the statement by strapping his thick shield to his left forearm.
Kynrael, attempting to save face on Rois' behalf, says, "It's likely his expertise lies within Cettigne and the surrounding river lands. Perhaps he is not as accustomed to the rocky paths we now find ourselves on. I have not heard anything from the direction he went, fortunately." Other than the excessive noise he, himself is making. He turns his head slightly and calls back over his shoulder, "Or unfortunately, I suppose. Let's hope for the former." Kynrael continues to follow the path cautiously, though seems to care little for the runes and weathered structures the others are pointing out.
Kynrael, seeming a bit more severe than usual, walks up alongside Rois. "Seeing as how you're the scout, I'll trust to your advice. That, and I'm more than a little curious about what got dragged off," Kynrael says, pointing his hammer at the aforementioned drag marks. "Iomedae willing, they're still alive." Kynrael smiles very slightly, his grip tightening on his warhammer... Gorum willing, I'll find something worthy of smashing with Alexander. Hearing Pork speak behind him, Kynrael nods. "He is right. The way ahead looks narrow, and we should be ready for the worst. I'll take the lead, if there are no objections. I'd like to keep Rois near the front if possible as well, so we don't lose the trail." He heads back towards the cart now, and begins searching for somewhere inconspicuous to stow the cart.
"We had best get a name and description of the wizard in question. Wouldn't want to make the mistake of confusing him with an adversary." Kynrael begins checking on the wagon, likely making sure that Pork's "accommodations" are adequate.
"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'd like to enjoy what could be the last bath I'll have the pleasure of taking in a long time. I shall rise with the dawn tomorrow, and we will see what troubles this mine. Good night." Kynrael rises from the table and heads for his room, fingers already seeking to undo buckles and straps of his half plate armor.
"Argor raises a good point," Kynrael says, nodding to his armor. "Although, it might also prove to be an easier sell as a group of returning miners. Miners who do not mine do not earn. People who do not earn do not eat. Go hungry for long enough, and a man becomes desperate. Desperate men might hire on muscle to keep them safe long enough to put food back on their tables." Looking now at Rois, and then to Pork, Kynrael continues, "As to Pork, I believe that concealing him in a wagon temporarily would be best to avoid raising eyebrows at our passing. A heavily armored guard makes sense; not so a goblin. Besides, small as he is," Kynrael chuckles towards Pork here, an obvious attempt to avoid sounding insulting, "the wagon will give him higher ground to pick his targets."
Kynrael dons a smile despite the somber atmosphere. "Mayor Hansper, your troubles are at an end. Discovering the cause of these disappearances is but a drop in the lake. We shall bring justice to those perpetrating these heinous acts with such swiftness and wrath that none will dare seek to take advantage of Estinhome again for countless ages to come." His fervor beginning to dull a bit, Kynrael leans forward with elbows on the table and hands clasped before his face. "As to the matter of flushing out the miscreants in question, whoever they should be? The sight of approaching militiamen might scare away the cowards behind these troubles. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to appear nothing more than a group of miners as we approach the mines."
"I can't say that I'm familiar with this Master Calandrel of yours," Kynrael begins, "but he has heard correctly." Kynrael then begins to explain himself to Rois, the words sounding almost rehearsed. "Angelic blood courses through my veins. It is a rare phenomenon that has occurred within the Dawnmantle family throughout the ages. So, in short, one of my ancestors were an angel, and I have inherited some of their qualities." "As to my what I bring to the table," Kynrael says as he pats the enormous, square-headed hammer at his side, "I prefer to keep my enemies close - makes it a lot easier to hit them." And here I thought the goblin's heritage would receive all the attention.
Kynrael pats his grey mare softly on the neck. "It's been a while since I've taken the old girl for a ride. I think a little summer ride might do her some good." Casting a quick glance to the rest of the group, Kynrael trots his horse out in front of the stables before turning about. Now absent from the shade of the stables, his eyes begin to shine a radiant silver as he addresses his new companions. "Perhaps we should take the opportunity to get to know one another a little better on the ride to Estinhome. At the very least, I should like to know what my new brothers and sister in arms are capable of."
A goblin? He did save a child, I suppose. Still... Kynrael speaks slowly as if carefully choosing his words, his gaze leveled at Pork, "While I will not pretend to trust you, I will trust Marshall Vikaela's discretion in this matter. Welcome aboard, Pork." Kynrael makes to fall back into line, but hesitates a moment. He cocks his head slightly as Argor begins speaking, perking up as he hears mention of a wagon. "I make no claims on Argor's behalf, Marshall, and I mean no offense to Pork here, but it might be best if we are able to secure a wagon and some concealing garments for the goblin. A goblin brazenly approaching the town might cause a scene, which is probably the last thing they need on the heels of these disappearances. I will abide by your decision, either way." |
