Horek glances doubtfully at Loges. "Are you sure you speak this language? Does he recognize this dagger? Or say anything about the caravan?"
"No that might still be right, or he could have meant goblin. Its not a word I fully recognise either."
As the group enters the ancient structure, Tamru gazes about in wonder, seemingly unafraid of the obvious danger present. In his lilting voice, he comments, "Imagine how beautiful this must be when it is first built. Look, hmmm? It is still beautiful now, so long after." As usual, his language is a bit weird, and the accent a bit odd, but he is easy to understand.
"Tell them we are friends, yes? We only wish to speak, yes?" The overweight garundi holds his glaive up against his shoulder, in the most passive way possible and smiles serenely at the strangers.
”But he isn’t a goblin or a cantaloupe. These people must have been in the desert too long. Maybe that’s why you can’t understand them.”
Bolgar takes his warhammer, and makes a show of 'putting it away.' He holds it up high for the man to see and then sheathes it through the thick leather thong attached to his belt.
"Easy there, big fella."
Bolgar turns to the party.
"I speak Kelesh but I'm having a hard time with his accent. Maybe the 'cantaloupe goblins' are merely one tribe of goblins?"
"Mind you, the goblins would have to be running pretty damn low on tribe names for one bunch to call themselves the 'Cantaloupe Tribe'..." he mutters to himself.
Loges smiles at Timbur.
And what color is a cantaloupe, my friend. It may describe the usual color of an orc? So, a green goblin, may mean an orc to them?
Loges continues to translate.
"It could be used to refer to a specific shade of green... maybe. It's not a dialect of the language I've heard before either."
"I'm NOT a cantaloupe, and stop saying that I look like one!" Horek turns his head slightly to growl at those behind him, still holding the dagger on display (not threateningly, or trying not to hold it threateningly at any rate) and ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.
"If Wazarek means a kind of goblin, do you think he means the menarren, the shriveled up goblin that made such a convenient doorstop?"
Bolgar takes a small piece of chalk out of a pocket, and begins drawing on the floor. He tries to sketch the face of the menarren from memory.
He points at his crude drawing and says to the man, "Wazarek? Is this a Wazarek?"
He repeats the phrase in Kelish.
"Wazarek? Bu bir wazarek miydi?"
Tollo fades to the back as everyone starts talking in antiquated Kellish.
"I mean, I've been called worse than "cantaloupe". "Puke face", "Knee muncher", "Pantry Goblin", "Goblin Kisser"- and I object to that one! I was undercover, I had to kiss that goblin!"
”It’s true. You don’t look like a cantaloupe. You’re more of a cabbage shade, I’d say.”
Loges translates the entire conversation, shrugging his shoulders in a we are not threatening way...
The man in chainmail seems to be very confused by all the talking, but he seems to let his guard down a bit as your group is obviously not an immediate threat.
He looks at the drawing on the ground made by Bolgar and nods.
"Yes, that is a Wazarek."
He then points at Horek.
"This is not a Wazarek?"
"We are the Brotherhood of Gorm. You must be from the outer world, but that is impossible. It has been cursed for generations. How can you live in such a wasteland?"
After Loges translates, Tollo pipes up from the back.
"I'm gonna blow your mind right now, tin britches- a sphinx told us that your pyramid was "cursed for generations". We came through the desert with a caravan that was attacked, so here we are looking for everyone else."
"So what's up with the masks? There was a woman in the other room with a mouse mask- she's dead, though, a gecko got her."
"This is not a Wazarek?"
"No, not a goblin. Er... hayır, bir Wazarek değil."
"He is half human and half orc. Ah... o yarım insan ve yarı orktur. "
"Goblins are sneaky. We don't like goblins. Wazarek sinsi. Biz wazarek'i sevmiyoruz."
"Orcs are... "
He looks at Horek and bites off what he was going to say.
"Orcs are brave. Orklar cesurlar."
At Bolgar's words, Horek truly feels as though a weight on his shoulders has been lifted, one that has punished him every day since his parents were killed. Somehow, after months of captivity by his cruel half-kin and twice that long viewed as an outcast belonging to none, the half-orc has finally found a group that has accepted him. Though still cursed with the battle frenzy that marks those of orcish blood, Horek knows he can turn it into something good.
The barbarian nods at the dwarf, perhaps betraying some hint of what he is feeling in his dark eyes, then turns to face these Gorm, to see what they have to say about the dagger, and about the questions posed by Tollo.
Loges continues to smile while translating a d surmising in both languages.
I wonder if these fine gentlemen are trapped in a time loop. Or maybe some sort of pocket dimension that we now have entered. I wonder where it started? The oasis seems likely...any historians in the pyramid? Excuse me sir, but what year is it?
The masked men seem to understand that you do not mean them any immediate harm. They seem willing to talk for the moment.
"We wear the masks in honor of Gorm, for we are his faithful. The dead one with the mouse mask was one of the Dreamers. Since thou are not from our world, you do not know of Gorm, yes? They do not worship Gorm in the Outer Wastes? We thought that all had died there, except for the Wazarek who eat their dead."
"We believe you that he is not Wazarek, for on second viewing, he does not have the snout of their kind. We do not understand, as we believed that Wazarek were the only things that lived in the Outer Wastes. You all have dark skin like the Wazarek, however, so we thought that perhaps you were inferior Wazarek." He then points to Tollo, stating "Especially the child."
At the mention of dark skin, you now notice that the all of the men you are speaking too have almost powder white skin beneath their armor and clothes.
They also look at the dagger that Horek has been holding up, but only shrug when they inspect it. "It is not of Cynidicea or the Realms Below."
"I do not understand. What is "year"?"
Perhaps, season? Moon cycle? How many times has your world circled the Sun?
Content to let the others continue the convesation, Tamru stands by passively, only chuckling at Tollo being called a child. It is complicated enough to translate, it seems. His accent would only make that more difficult.
Zuberi's face splits into a broad smile as the stranger refers to Tollo as a child. He wonders if anyone will translate that, and in case they do he watches to observe the halfling's reaction.
Once the translation reaches his ears, Horek puts away the dagger and considers the fragmented speech that he hears. "So they believe the 'Outer Wastes' to be a cursed place, and that is everything outside of the oasis, to them. The desert is certainly a wasteland, but it sounds like they know nothing of the world beyond. These... Wazarek are goblins, which they have seen and dealt with before. What is this word they used... Cynidicea? Is that what they call the oasis? And what of the Realms Below?"
Perhaps, season? Moon cycle? How many times has your world circled the Sun?
The man you have been talking to holds up his hands to hold off your questions.
"These questions are beyond me, but you may ask them of our leader, Arash."
From the second room (the one on your left), a figure emerges from behind the other masked men. He is dressed similarly to the others, except that the mask/visor covering his face seems to be made of gold, or at least is gold plated. He makes his right hand into a fist and places it onto his chest, and bows slightly.
"I am Arash, son of Aramas, high devotee of Gorm. Have you come to join our brotherhood? All who would honor Gorm may join his cause."
Loges bows.
We are travellers that were waylaid on the road outside your oasis. We were only seeking shelter from the sandstorms; and, perhaps, to find those responsible. They abduxted some of our number.
Loges points to the dagger Horek carries.
We found this amongst the wreckage.
Perhaps, season? Moon cycle? How many times has your world circled the Sun?
Bolgar turns and looks at Logar.
"Wait just one damn minute. Are you tellin' me we're on a whole other bloody planet? Wonderful. Tha's just wonderful!" He curses. "How the devil are we gonna get home again?"
Bolgar shakes his head, but straightens up when they are introduced to Arash.
"Greetings, high one. We know little of your Gorm, though we saw inscriptions that showed him and two other beings. So we can hardly say that we came here to join your brotherhood if we never knew about it before today."
"But perhaps you would care to tell us about your brotherhood, and about Gorm himself. So far we only know what he looks like."
The man in the golden mask nods at Loges' and Bolgar's questions and comments, although his thoughts are well-hidden behind his visor.
After a few moments of silence passes, he tries to answer some of your concerns.
"We did not know that anyone still lived beyond the Outer Wastes. We do not go there ourselves, as Gorm has forbidden it until the Realms Below are cleansed. Gorm is the god of war, storms, and justice. He is the one who brought the Cataclysm that ended Old Cynidicea, and we all now must atone for the sins of our ancestors. If you seek justice against those who harmed your people then perhaps we are an convergent paths. Those who are true of heart, noble of spirit, and who are not afraid to wield the sword of justice are greatly honored in the sight of Gorm."
As the conversation gets translated, Tamru stands by listening quietly, studying the unique and interesting garb of these people.
"Theese people know what ees beauty. Eet ees a shem they cannot see the world," he comments quietly to himself, clearly not intending to be translated.
The garundi man motions with his spear and speaks a little bit louder, taking a somewhat firmer tone than is typical of the carefree, almost whimsical cleric. His accent is significantly less musical in nature. "Eef they weele tehk spe-ahr of justeece, we should help them. No-bodee should be trapped like theese, by Gods or no."
Tamru's rare intensity is very brief before he looks a bit self-conscious and adds his customary, "yes?"
Zuberi furrows his brow "Gorum is a god of war but not so much storms and definitely not justice. Gozreh is a goo of storms but not of war or justice. Must be a god I don't know. It seemed so clear at the Gorm is the god of war bit."
Tollo hangs in the back, listening to the conversation.
"Psst. What did he call me?"
"He called you a child," Timbur replies. "And he called Horek a cantaloupe goblin. Clearly, these aren't very polite people."
Horek growls at Tollo. "It couldn't have been worse than being called a cantaloupe." As the conversation is slowly translated, the half-orc asks. "What is this Realm Below? We encountered an invisible creature at the mouth of the canyon leading to the... Outer Wastes. It told us of a great evil that dwells within here."
[ooc]No problem understanding you at all, Tamru! Hey, I'm GMing a character whose player speaks like a pirate, and his spoken sentences are damn near gibberish - on top of that, he doesn't offer translations! :) [/b]
"The Realm Below is the occupied city of Cynidicea, reconstituted in the caverns below. It is the realm of the priests of Zargon, who know nothing of honor and enslave the children of Cynidicea with their poison."
He then clears his throat and continues. "It seems you have stout warriors among you. Will you join us in our fight to free the people of Cynidicea and restore Gorm's role as head of the Triumvirate? I am sure you are hungry, no? We have both food and water and would share it with those who make common cause with us."
Loges chuckles at Horek and Timbur...
Zuberi holds up a finger "If we want to be precise he mistook you 'the child' as a lesser cantaloupe goblin. He was thinking we might all be some form of lesser cantaloupe goblin but they were quite confident about you." He's got the biggest grin on his face.
Loges hides his face; coughing a cough that sounds suspiciously like laughter.
Zuberi furrows his brow "Gorum is a god of war but not so much storms and definitely not justice. Gozreh is a goo of storms but not of war or justice. Must be a god I don't know. It seemed so clear at the Gorm is the god of war bit."
Bolgar turns to Zuberi.
"You're definitely right that Gorum and Gorm are not the same. I cannot recall anything about any deity called 'Gorm.' But all this talk of justice makes me think he must be a force for law... an Empyreal Lord perhaps? I don't know."
Bolgar turns back to Arash.
"Friend Arash... can I call you that? My friend, you honor us with your invitation. But it troubles me. You seem eager to have us join a crusade we know nothing about, on your word alone. You seem to be an honorable man, but my own honor warns me not to make a pledge I do not know if I can keep. Let me show you something."
Bolgar pulls out a small wooden model of a wagon.
"See this? This is the symbol of the one I am pledged to. He is called Galvagar Gemfingers, and he is a saint of my people. He is not a God, but he walks among them, and provides an example for my people on how to live. I am his servant, and pledged to his service, and in exchange, My Lord Galvagar grants me the power to heal wounds and perform other small miracles."
"I don't see how I can pledge myself to your Gorm without betraying Galvagar."
"I know that Galvagar is nothing to you. But surely you would reject me if I asked you to join Galvagar's brotherhood, because you will not betray this Gorm of yours. So I hope you can see how it would be the same for me."
"But there is no need for Gorm and Galvagar to be enemies. You offered us food and drink. Among my people, bread is a symbol of peace, and those who wish peace break bread with each other. We can share our provisions with you if you wish to share with us, and we can agree that we are not enemies. Does that suit you?"
The light dawns for Timbur.
”Oh he’s offering food. He wasn’t calling Horek a cantaloupe, just offering him some. I don’t see how they could get cantaloupe to grow inside the pyramid, though.”
The wizard barely survives the comment from Timbur....
Loges turns to the dwarf.
Still uncertain, but it seems that we entered some type of anomaly. Perhaps, we should attempt to leave to see if we can?
Arash seems to listen carefully to what Bolgar is saying, questioning him a few times on the meaning of certain words he doesn't understand in modern Kelish.
At the mention of healing and miracles, however, he stiffens visibly, and his speech and manner become colder.
"You can perform magic? Then your Gemfingers must be allied with the deceitful Usamigaras or the evil powers of Zargon, for only they eschew the hard steel in favor of soft words. We want no part of these miracles of yours."
There are murmurs of agreement among the other warriors of Gorm around you, and you notice a few hands straying towards their weapons as they take a few steps back.
"I do not think he asks us to worship Gorm," the big Garundi interjects, though it seems perhaps too late. He continues in a whisper, "They speak of evil. If
Gorm cursed them to this, maybe it is Gorm who is evil."
Despite his words, Tamru continues smiling pleasantly at the strangers.
"Can someone ask him where the path to below is? It seems he still intends investigate further, at least. Nobody deserves to be trapped like this.
Loges bows to Arash a d his fellows.
We would be grateful to break bread with you. We just need to reassure ourselves that our camp is still secure. We shant but be a few moments.
The robed figure prepares to depart the way they came....
Arash relaxes slightly and nods at Loges. "You may pass from our domain in peace. We will be here should you return, Outworlders."
"Can someone ask him where the path to below is? It seems he still intends investigate further, at least. Nobody deserves to be trapped like this.
Arash answers matter-of-factly. "The secrets of Cynidicea are for the initiated. We will not harm you in your journey, but neither will be help."
"...Then your Gemfingers must be allied with the deceitful Usamigaras or the evil powers of Zargon,..."
Bolgar blinks with surprise, and shakes his head.
"I do not wish to trouble you, so we will be on our way, but let me ask something else before we go:"
"Does Gorm not grant miraculous gifts to his faithful? How then do you know his will?"
"I do not know these other names you mention either, Usamigaras and Zargon. If the followers of Usamigaras and Zargon are as you say, I doubt I would care much for them. But you mentioned a Triumvirate. Does Gorm make up a part of that, and Usamigaras and Zargon the other two?"
"I thank you for your gift of knowledge, and wish you peace."
Bolgar bows before departing.
Arash seems interested in discussing the particularities of his faith with Bolgar, perhaps because he does not get many people who ask questions.
"No, the Brotherhood of Gorm train as warriors of justice, they are not healers. Well, not now. In the olden days, it is said that we were the judges and the defenders of the people, and that there were priests amongst us capable of miracles such as healing, but that is many generations ago. Now only the priests of Zargon have survived, and they only grant their miracles to themselves and the Chosen of the Unicorn."
"As for the will of Gorm, we know because of his scripture which is passed down to us from our elders. There are only a few amongst us who still believe, who wish to free our people from the evil of the Cyclops."
"No, the Triumvirate are Gorm, Usamigaras, and Madarua, the gods of old. Only a few still follow them and we hide here in the upper city, far from the priests of Zargon."
When Horek hears the translation of the conversation, the half-orc turns to Bolgar. "Is the Cyclops one of this Triumvirate? Or is it this Zargon they speak of? Or something else entirely? That invisible guardian in the canyon warned us of a great evil in this place, and it sounds as though it might be somewhere within this pyramid. If they can tell us what they can of the followers of the three old gods and of Zargon, we might be able to figure out who is responsible for the attack on our caravan, and why they did it. Then it is only a matter of finding them in this place."