Marcus has been unusually quiet since the brief but ferocious battle with the gnomes, anger and suspicion at the Usurer's possible role in the attempted mass-murder having morphed into generally uncertainty as the smith seemingly offers what he at least was after: as good a claim as the group was going to get out here in the middle of nowhere to one of the more attractive Camp buildings as well as a clear path to avoiding the hefty "foreigner" tax.
Like Durin, the half-orc oracle's change of plans evidently has him a bit dismayed as well even if it makes for itself the decision about who should run the boarding house. Though for as long as the rest of the group has known him, the conjurer has spoken of the importance of each free-thinking person making their own choices and he seems ready to accept the oracles even if the loss of his strength and divine magic will be a major blow.
After returning from shopping, Marcus soon commandeers the larger part of the dining room table and that is where the rest of the group finds him a few hours later, magical light shining brightly in the place of one of the candleholders.
The precious map that has proven so valuable has been carefully folded between oilskin and placed away. In its place on the table the wizard has several recently made copies, each marked with tiny annotations in the conjurer's careful hand noting distances, terrain features, creatures discovered and other matters of interest.
One is for us, one for Kun-duhn to keep safe and the last to go back to Bard's Gate provided I can find a decent courier. Even if we .. well you know .. the Patriarch will know how we fared.
But enough of that. Things have not exactly turned out as any of us may have planned but I for one offer that we have started well. We have a forward outpost in the Desolation itself as well as a place here, both to be kept by people we trust.
And I don't think we should stop there. If we are to tame the Desolation and venture into Tsar itself we will need more such safe places, places to keep stores and rest. And all the allies we can find.
The last is something I have been thinking of especially. Again we have made a good start here. Sammar would indeed seem to make a good candidate to assist Kun-duhn and I'd like to ask Sammuel whether he would like to make a place here as well.
Other than I see two other good options. The rangers mentioned a safe haven in the Ashen Waste and looking at the map that can only be one spot.
Here. Marcus points to the grove of trees deep in the south east quadrant.
A grove in the otherwise barren Desolation suggests powerful druidic magic to me and if we can make friends that would give us more resources to draw upon as well as another possible safe haven.
The second is the group of dwarves that Kiri heard about, apparently somewhere in the Dead Fields. More doughty potential allies I cannot imagine. Marcus looks briefly to Durin and Barak.
Whatever they are about, perhaps we can help each other and at the least try and lay the ghost to permanent rest. If we can find them, which seems like the major challenge. If there's a way short of scouting the whole south west quadrant I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps a group will return to the Camp for supplies and those here will hear about it.
Anyway my proposed plan is this. We set out tomorrow for the Ashen Waste: leave the road and head north to that gorge to find our bearings. Just north of that looks like a building of some sort. From there the grove is directly north east or we could examine some of the other nearby locations. There seems to be a statue or something to the north and some kind of hole to the east. At that point we'd be half way to checking on Vincent as Durin suggests. After that we could head west and look for the dwarves. Kiri can cover a lot of ground very fast from the air and she may be able to spot them.
Once more thing we need to discuss. The mercenaries. Sammuel was right about the gnomes and I'm prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt about them. If he has it right they too will try and betray us.
The wizard grins although there is steel in it. And I'd like to allow them to try and do so!
We don't know if they had anything to do with the ambush on Sammar's caravan but we do know they will probably try and lead us into an ambush. And in doing so they should reveal where their ambushers lair or at least the path to that lair. If we don't feel comfortable we can always call them out and settle things. Those that live should be able to tell us what we need to know.
It is not perhaps the most honourable path.
He looks at Arachiel.
But these half-orcs seem no better than the gnomes. Taking coin in exchange for trust and rewarding it with betrayal and death in the wasteland. We can even give them the chance to deal with us fairly and let them choose their own fate.
Anyway I've said a lot and this is a democracy. What do people think?
Having no coin or iron bits to his name, Durin remained at the boarding house while some of the others visited the apothecary and the bazaar.
As the group gathered around Marcus' maps and listened to the wizard's ideas, Durin threw in the occasional comment or question.
Given the levels of duplicity and subterfuge we have encountered in the Camp so far, how can we be sure of the rangers intentions? Has Sammuel given them a once over yet?
How long do we have to locate these dwarves and lay the ghost to rest? I do not wish to feel its corrupting touch again, and I would guess, neither does Vincent. Perhaps we could convince the dwarves to move into the tower with Vincent?
I think we have more pressing matters to deal with than the mercenaries. While I am more than game for turning the tables on them, perhaps we can leave that for another time?
Marcus steeples his hands in thought.
All good points Durin. I don't know if Sammuel has tried to read any of them. Perhaps we could ask to confirm directions and give Sammuel an opportunity although perhaps we would want to keep our cards closer to our chest until we know more.
As to the ghost I simply don't know. Which frankly worries me as well and if I knew of a surer way of finding them I'd be suggesting that instead.
And you may well be right about the mercenaries. We are certainly not short of things to do. But I would not want on my conscience the deaths of any who might arrive and hire them while we are away. My vote is that we do handle them now but I'll abide by the will of the majority.
Durin leans heavily upon the table with his knuckles in two clenched fists, eyes focused on Marcus' map.
Has anyone checked to see if anyone here in the Camp already has knowledge as to the dwarves possible location? Perhaps the dwarves came through, or have travelled to town for provisions, previously.
And not to be rude about it, but I am more concerned for Vincent then I am for some possible clients the mercenaries might dupe and betray. The onus should be on these hypothetical clients to vet out potential hires. Buyer beware and all that. Vincent, on the other hand, is in clear and present danger in my opinion.
Durin rubs his head, clearly running various scenarios through his mind. Besides, we have a man on the "inside" here in Camp now. And he runs the type of establishment that any newcomers would likely visit. Khun-Duhn can dissuade anyone thinking of hiring the mercs for the time being. We can then deal with them permanently at a time of our convenience.
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"Seems like we have a plan then. First ask around the camp as to the rumored where-abouts of the Dwarves. Perhaps Sammar or Simon have heard something, or as Marcus has said, maybe Sammuel can learn something." Stopping his train of thought for a moment, the paladin asks no one in particular, "What is it with the 'S' names around here?"
Getting back on track he continues, "After getting a bit of information, then I guess it's off to check on Vincent."
I understand you came here from the ruined city. That would be Tsar? It must be such an interesting place!
Diplomacy (Improve Relations)]1d20 + 11
Diplomacy(Gather Information)]1d20 + 11
The hag warmed to the charismatic Azata, despite her obvious reservations about associating with such a beacon of righteousness. As Kiri mentioned the group's early forays she wagged a finger disapprovingly, particularly as Tsar was mentioned.
Oh yes, Dearie, the Desolation is dangerous, but it’s just the doorstep. Beyond the threshold lies the truly dangerous. The ruined city is far from abandoned, and those that abandoned it are far from forgetting it. You be careful out there, Dearies. Such pretty young morsels like you would make a fine meal for those that guard secrets not meant to ever see the light of day.
When pressed, the Hag seemed to have difficulty remembering anything in particular. However, she did suddenly get a spark of insight when Kirlarien mentioned something about the city.
Oh... Theres something else. My cousins still call the ruined city home. They threw me out, they did. Jealous of my beauty they were. By a blue well in the shadow of a green wall they still dwell. We misses them, Dearies. Bring me their heads and rewards will be yours.
As Mama Grim said her farewells, she suddenly became a little grave; speaking to all present.
Dearies... There’s something alive at the crossroads. It only appears at the stroke of midnight. It can grant you your every desire, but the price is steep. Don’t bargain with the thing that comes in the night at the crossroads if you value your soul.
Confident in his darkvision, Telurion strode into the Camp. He occasionally catch glimpses of individuals huddled in tents or primitive shelters; but the night is almost entirely silent, other than occasional snores. There is not a single individual out in the Common at this late hour- the large open area in the centre of the ramshackle settlement.
Something a little macabre drew Telurion's eye. The Common's main feature is a bent, old gallows, crudely constructed and leaning with age. It is currently unused. Telurion scanned the camp with his eyes, seeking somewhere to stay. He was caught completely unprepared as, lurking behind a hut nearby, a shadowy figure crouched beside it and using it as cover appeared to cast out a rope- which sailed unerringly towards the nearby Aasimar, lashing around his waist with force as though guided by magic!
Round 1-
Ordered Initiative-
Telurion-
Hanged Man-
Active Effects-
Telurion is Entangled by a rope- the other end is attached to the Hanged Man...
Map-
Notes-
This monstrosity is known as a Hanged Man; a fairly powerful Undead. Stealthy and agile, this type of Undead is formed from the angry spirit of someone hanged, which refuses to leave the body. It slays its victims either by hanging them with the rope they themselves were hanged with, or with its vicious claws. The Undead's control of its rope is akin to an Animate Rope spell and it operates it with its strong neck, independently from its clawed hands. The rope and the Undead cannot survive without the other; if it is severed, the Undead instantly dies and the dark energies animating the rope cease.
Action-
Telurion's attacker moved into the open, scrambling out from behind cover and leaping up onto the top of the gallows.
A dirty, dessicated corpse; the Hanged Man in the centre of the camp appeared to actually be animated by negative energy. Its broken neck is askew and its leathery face frozen into a rictus grin beneath empty eye sockets. Nailed to its breast is a sign bearing the word “Cheater.” The abomination seems to have an unnatural control over the rope it was hanged by, which seems to be a magical ability.
From its position atop the crossbar of the gallows fifteen feet above ground, the Hanged Man's frozen grin was quite terrifying to behold as it contracted the rope, dragging Telurion forcefully across the common to the base of the gallows and restricting his movement...
As the rope coils around his neck, Telurionc cannot stifle a surprised - "What the..?!" - but as his opponent makes itself visible, he understands there are no words that will reason with this dreadful creature - "You have chosen the wrong victim, monstrosity!" - he roars, cursing the fact that he simply does not have a slashing weapon with which to simply cut the rope dragging him.
With a grim look, the aasimar unleashes holy power in a blast all around him, engulfing the creature, and hoping the rope length is animated by the same foul energy that fuels what appears to be its master.
The holy energy made a hissing sound as it literally burnt at the very essence of the evil, undead creature and the spirit inside. The rope did not show any sign of damage though.
Still entangled, Telurion was aggressively hoisted up into the air by the contracting rope- right into reach of the claws of the foul thing above. Being held aloft just below the level of the crossbar, the undead raked a foul claw across Telurion's face, catching the other one on the crossbar by mistake.
The Undead's plan was obvious to Telurion. It would have to make one last powerful tug on its rope to readjust it to his neck and it would attempt to hang him from the gallows...
"I have not travelled this far to be fell by some foul creature in the dark!" - Telurion roared - "I do not know how you are free to walk this settlement, but you will not haunt this place another day!"
Seeing that the creature resisted his initial assault, and is dangerously getting close to hanging him, Telurion reaches for his longspear, and attacks a piece of the rope threatening to choke him, putting all the force of his commitment in a mighty thrust aimed at severing his bindings.
"Release me monster, and for the people that I hope still dwell in this place, I will put you DOWN!"
The rope was unnaturally difficult to strike as it seemed both agile and very tough- but Telurion managed to sever some threads with his spear, shouting threats all the while. The rope resisted most of the damage dealt to it, the lack of a slashing implement hindering the attack.
The macabre Undead shifted the rope up Telurion's body so that it hung around his neck- and then leapt off the gallow. This caused the rope to go taut along the crossbar above the now grounded Undead; and hung the unfortunate Aasimar by the neck! His ability to speak was now almost completely constricted...
Suffocation
A character who has no air to breathe can hold her breath for 2 rounds per point of Constitution. If a character takes a standard or full-round action, the remaining duration that the character can hold her breath is reduced by 1 round. After this period of time, the character must make a DC 10 Constitution check in order to continue holding her breath. The check must be repeated each round, with the DC increasing by +1 for each previous success.
When the character fails one of these Constitution checks, she begins to suffocate. In the first round, she falls unconscious (0 hit points). In the following round, she drops to –1 hit points and is dying. In the third round, she suffocates.
Falling upon his innate magical powers, the aasimar conjures a spell to bolster his attacks, hoping it will assist him in cutting himself loose faster.
Telurion managed to croak out the words to a magic spell as he began to be hung by the gallows. Seeing that the Aasimar was intent on cutting the rope, the foul Undead moved directly next to him, reached up and cruelly dashed the longspear from him. It clattered to the ground, where Telurion could not reach it with his hands.
As the creature draws closer to him, Telurion does not miss the opportunity to try and land a blow, thrusting the spear forward as hard as he can.
Immediately after, the weapon is ripped from his hands - with a grim, determined look, the aasimar reaches for his secondary one, and even though he believes it to be even more useless against the rope, tries to smash it again.
With strength born of desperation, knowing his chance for survival was extremely limited if the mace was also taken from him, Telurion managed to sever the rope coming from the Undead's neck- with a blunt instrument. Over and over he smashed the weapon into the taut rope, until it was destroyed. Telurion was as surprised as the Undead was that the resistant rope was suddenly severed; and the hanged man collapsed; the spirit fading from the body. Telurion fell clumsily back to the ground, gasping for breath.
Tumbling to the ground in a heap, Telurion stays there motionless for a few seconds, laying on his back, recovering his breath and staring at the dark nightsky - What accursed place have I step into? - he ponders to himself as he stands up, looking at the remains of the dreadful creature - "Cheater" - he whispers, staring at the plaque still awkwardly hanging around the creature's neck.
Retrieving his weapon, he summons a minor spell, to make sure the threat is vanquished.
After being reassured the negative energy animating the creature is gone, he crouches down next to it, looking for any distinctive sign that may have identified this one in life, or the reasons for it being in this place, animated as such - he had heard about these particular kind of undead creatures before, but had never faced off against one. Gathering the wrecked rope in a bundle, removing it from around the creature's neck, he drags the body to lay off at the base of the gallows, and takes the rope with him.
Still nothing... - he cannot help but ponder at the fact that not a soul seems to stir even after these events.
Refitting his gear, and rubbing the soreness around his neck, he continues along the path, still looking for a place where he would find solace from the darkness and any dangers lurking outside.
Marcus looks around the room as if seeking a few more opinions before responding to Durin.
Barak has been very quiet this evening drinking the ale and staring at the bag of bones that he asked to look after for the time being whailst the group talks he rises and taking a mug of ale over to the bag and placing down along side. taking his seat again he says "Well for my mind the bones are a priority we need to give the poor sod a proper burial. as for the rangers I believe they are trustworthy well at least the few I have met. I liked the original plan with proper supplies i think an extended stay in the wastes wouldn't be too bad well it wouldn't be good but we would achieve a lot."
Telurion's Detect Undead spell convinced him that the thing was truly at rest now. Wounded more in spirit than in body, the shaken Aasimar recovered and found himself knocking on the door of a boarding house- owned by the Bender Brothers, according to the sign.
Inside, the new occupants were surprised to receive a knock at their door. It was late and their planning was already done, but most of the group were drinking generously from the Gnome's stash and toasting their successes thus far. With Khun-Duhn retiring, at least for a time, it had seemed a good excuse to raise spirits in toasts for once, rather than desperately battling them for survival.
Durin looks up from the table, Sounds like we have our first customer!
We're in here! he calls out to the foyer.
It seems thats its my suggested route then but leaving the mercenaries for another time? Unless you wanted to get back to the tower faster, Durin? It would certainly be easier on the road although we're unlikely to find anything new.
Oh that reminds me, the hag had some interesting things to say, about the crossroads and Tsar. Kiri and I weren't inclined to push her but it certainly does seem as if the place is far from deserted.
If we are organised we should be able to get back on the road before mid-morning. The wizards starts to tick things off on his fingers.
How about Barak and Sammuel visit the rangers and confirm the groves location? Kiri and I can do supplies, I'll visit the hag and buy those potions then replace our food at the market. Say two weeks worth? Good thing we have that bottle for water. Barak let me know how many bolts you think you'll need.
Unless someone has an objection we should take up the Usurer on his exchange as well.
...Whats this, a guest? Good thing I got those blood stains out of the floor.
Only because I made you stop fiddling with those maps!
But take care. The azata warns crisply.
Its unlikely he'd try something so soon but that illusionist is still out there.
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"As ridiculous as changing out gold for iron is, it does seem to be the thing to do while we are here."
Arachiel walks over to the door to see who has come to visit. "Hold on, I'll be there in a second."
Opening the door, the paladin sees a familiar face. "Telurion?" he asks, obviously surprised to see an old friend in the Camp.
"Come on in. What brings you to this backwater hell-hole?" the paladin says offering his hand to his fellow aasimar.
Can we not head straight to Vincent using a path that takes us thru unexplored territory? My priorities remain to check on Vincent and to bury the dwarf. However we accomplish that is fine with me.
Who's this now? A friend of Arachiel's?
"As ridiculous as changing out gold for iron is, it does seem to be the thing to do while we are here."
Arachiel walks over to the door to see who has come to visit. "Hold on, I'll be there in a second."
Opening the door, the paladin sees a familiar face. "Telurion?" he asks, obviously surprised to see an old friend in the Camp.
"Come on in. What brings you to this backwater hell-hole?" the paladin says offering his hand to his fellow aasimar.
"Arachiel?" - the man's eyes light up, as well as the smile on his face - "My friend! Finally I find you!" - he takes the offered hand, and turns it into a hug, then holds his old friend at arms' distance - "I have come looking for you, and to join you on your quest - what else?!" - he offers with a laugh - "Father Zanius had told me you took travel, looking to clarify Lord Bishu's true fate - there is no denying what is at stake here" - his voice turns more solemn - "I had to come and offer you my assistance" - he nods.
Well how about that. We just recently had a position open up in our company... are here someone is to fill it already.
Durin looks at Zanzu, Perhaps you should try that shiny new bauble out and make sure things are on the up and up...
Barak's keen eyes spot the quickly bruising marks around Telurion's neck and the still wet blood welled under his Armour. pouring a drink he offers the mug to the newcomer and says you "look like you need this. since we haven't met yet I'm Barak" the dwarf offers a handshake "I make sure we don't get horribly lost in the wastes."
Zanzu had taken the opportunity to hone is skills as a fine cook, preparing food for the guest house.
Telurion accepts both the mug, and the handshake from Barak - "Thank you friend. This will help wash down some of the road dust from my throat, as well as the lingering pain around my neck from the monstrosity I just faced... No more than a few tens of yards from here if you would believe it... It matters not, as it has been put down" - he nods.
"Well met to you" - the aasimar adds, taking a big gulp down - "And well met to all of you" - he turns to the others also - "I am Telurion"
Marcus is silent beyond giving his name, watching the newcomer carefully.
Even providence can't have this good a sense of timing.
The wizard looks between Kiri, who gives Marcus a quick shake of the head after a few moments of concentration, and Arachiel. The paladin is one of the finest men the conjurer has ever known and Marcus seems willing to trust his judgement.
His eyes narrow ... to a point perhaps.
Tell us of this .. monstrosity. He looks to the others. Perhaps the reason the residents have been so uncertain at night?
"An undead creature" - Telurion retorts - "A Hanged Man - I had heard of them before, but never had to face, or even fight against one of these - skulking, damned creature... A true mockery of their own demise, these monstrosities are formed from the angry spirit of someone hanged, which refuses to leave the body" - the aasimar ponders for a moment - "This one was wearing a plaque - 'Cheater' it stated, so I am guessing this is not the most welcoming of settlements? Even though I have no love lost for cheaters and such ilk, hanging seems to be a somewhat violent punishment"
Taking another drink, he continues - "What I know is that, after their return unto undeath, they slay their victims either by hanging them with the very rope they themselves were hanged with, or with vicious claw - it tried both on me... That rope seemed alive, moving of its own volition" - Telurion's visage sombers, as he rubs his neck - "As I said, I have put it down definitely, though I am surprised to find it this close to a settlement. Surely there have been other victims?"
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"It wouldn't surprise me in the least, Telurion. There have been a number of over-night deaths here in the Camp, and you are right, this is not the most welcoming of sites." Arachiel says, confirming Telurion's thoughts.
"Unfortunately, I doubt you will find the realms beyond the Camp much more hospitable."
I dare say there have been. The locals have been reluctant to walk around at night. Its odd though we saw the creature when we first arrived, in broad daylight .. perhaps it only rose while we were absent.
Anyway its destruction should raise our standing among the Camp. That is if you do join us Telurion. Death waits for us in the Desolation and it is no exaggeration to say possibly worse than that in Tsar.
Arachiel may trust you but why do you want to join us? Why risk your life to learn about the death of a paladin so many years ago?
Durin listens to the various exchanges but says nothing...
Arachiel may trust you but why do you want to join us? Why risk your life to learn about the death of a paladin so many years ago?
"Well" - Telurion begins - "I don't think I have one single reason for being here - You see, I am not a man of the cloth, but I owe much to the church of Muir, and to one particular follower of the Faith - we are friends, and have been so for many years" - he turns to Arachiel and adds - "Father Zanius was a mentor and councelor even before we ever met my friend - I have learned as much of the world as about myself from him..."
He smiles - "But I digress. As much as I have learned from him, we have long debated the state of faith in the world, why at spaces it seems to be losing its true touch in people's lifes - these have not been only about religion, or zealotry, but a bit about everything, and as in fact he believes that Faith and the Gods should exactly be felt by everyone as close advisors in everyday life, instead of absent landlords that show up once in a while simply to effect world changing actions"
Lookig again at Arachiel, Telurion continues - "On the one hand, I am here for Arachiel - we have walked our paths together for quite some time, years ago, and I have learned much from him - once I knew he had set himself on this road, I decided to join him. On the other, this is something I do for my mentor, for the impact and difference he believes can be effected by simply rekindling the memories of lost heroes, bringing them back to our daily conversations, admiration and expectations. Father Zanius puts a lot of faith in the fact that uncovering Bishu's true fate may be a true advent of change - as if an untold story was there, waiting to make a difference - so I am here also for him" - he states, raising his mug in a silent toast, and finishing the drink.
So an idealist then?
Marcus smiles but it is fairly thin and having seen two party members recently lose their resolve he seems inclined to probe the newcomers motives further.
Your mentor might be right. We may find something wonderful.
Or maybe not. We think we know Bishu entered Tsar but not what happened to him there. Except that by all accounts he did not come out again.
Orcus is a master of lies and corruption. Many think the exodus of his forces and the loss of the Army of the Light was planned, a deliberate strategm. If so there may have been a trap waiting for Bishu as well.
How will your resolve fair if the story of Bishu's true fate is one of horror?
"An idealist..?" - Telurion seems to ponder Marcus' words for a few moments - "Zanius definitely is, as well as a very good friend to me. As I said, I am not one of the cloth, nor do I follow this or that god's tenets - my path through life has been one of enlightenment and self knowledge. My powers were revealed to me at a very early age, and getting to understand them has been a long trip all by itself - that is what makes me thread the path"
Looking around at the others, he adds - "If by idealist you mean I defend a particular set of ideas which I believe are the best, then I would say yes, but I would say they are more based on common sense, and my own experiences in life, and not on divine teachings or inspiration - I am here to meet Arachiel, offering him my company in this endeavour if he so wishes. I do so out of friendship, and following my mentor's hopes - not my own" - he smiles.
"Thus, as much as any other, I am prepared for whatever knowledge we may uncover" - he states, resolute - "What about your own motivations to travel to a region bearing such dreadful reputation?" - he inquires back.
Marcus leans back in his chair. The topic is not one that the group tends to discus openly although the wizard feels it is one always lurking in the background.
It is a grim think to discuss. Here in this uncomfortable place on the edge of the wasteland.
But I am here because humanity is losing. The old empire is shattered and gone. Its nations divided. The nobility of the south, my homeland, plot and preen, completely preoccupied with their own intrigues while the Gods of evil spin out their own over centuries.
The churches of Muir and Thyr, once the vanguard of the forces of the light, are now mere shadows. Will they even exist in fifty years. A hundred? Where there was a thousand priests and paladins now there is just a few groups like ours, more mercenaries than holy warriors.
Why when the Church discovered this information about Bishu after so many years they couldn't even afford to send along a few priests!
The wizard's voice has been slowly rising with his frustration but now he becomes quiet.
I am here because if Tsar rises again there will be no Army of Light to oppose them. No Zelkor to bind the goodly nations together. No host of angels to balance the demons. Good's greatest champions were lost and even if Orcus' forces were gravely wounded they were not ended.
I am here, even though I am utterly inadequate to the task because there is noone else. If Tsar is rising again then someone must find out if only to give warning.
I am here even if it is most likely that some or all of us will die to claw or fang or undead touch before we even breach the city's walls.
That truth has already overcome the resolve of two of us. Fine warriors and friends. I do not begrudge them their choices. How can I when the path we tread lies so close to madness? But if you join us you choose that path as well.
And may come to rue it.
Kiri huffs quietly. No angels!? What am I, a goblin in a box?
But the lyrakien looks at her master with concern.
Durin looks up from his ale. I'm not here because humanity is losing, though yes, they do need help. I'm here for the action, to help my friends and the ale. Not necessarily in that order! he laughs. And cause I have nothing else to do and no where else to be.
Durin raises an eyebrow at Marcus, Since when does someone need a good reason to smash about the Desolation?
Durin looks to Telurion and states smiling, You are welcome to join me, no questions asked. You are a friend of Arachiel, that is all I need to know.
Durin then takes to his feet and hoists his mug high, Welcome to the Desolation!
Now drink up! We have work to do tomorrow!
Even in his mood Marcus can't help but chuckle. I meant humanity in the broader sense my thirsty friend.
But carry on. I want to finish with these maps.
Oh and remind me in the morning to ask Khun-duhn about searching out any more secret passages in this place.
Telurion smiles and raises his mug in a toast to the dwarf - "Well said Master Dwarf. Now... If you would point me to where the refill can be obtained, I will take care of it myself, as it seems I was thirstier than I expected" - he peers at his empy container.
Looking around, he stops short - "Where is the inkeeper?"