"I'd guess it was because the area is large, defensible, and well-watered; the flowstone is a little something extra."
"No doubt you're right Hilde. It's quite the view. Let's press on, but Ivy, best not to hold your daggers like that. No sense putting people on edge."
Ivy sighs, and crosses her arms, hiding hands in armpits to prevent them from going to blade.
Harvald nods "Hilde's got the right of it..." raising hand to the guardsmen and exchanging a few terse statements in svirfneblin, before waving you forward with him and into what serves as Lord Geirni's seat of power.
Passing between guardsmen and through an entry room you enter a large columned hall with a great fire pit at the center and the almost comically oversized throne of the svirfneblin lord at the far end. The walls are adorned with richly made tapestries and banner woven of fungus fibers and even surface silk some of which are older than the town itself. The fire pit always burns low, the flames fed by mushroom bark. The warm orange glow keeps this room well lit by svirfneblin standards and you can see with normal sight well enough. The room is also pleasantly warm if a little smoky at time.
Geirni appears to be on his throne, speaking with a most unwelcome sight. Standing before him... is a single male drow. Too far to overhear the words being swapped... but the drow appears to be engaged in some form of flattery. Harvald's back stiffens as he sees the dark elf.
"Harvald, do your people commonly consort with Drow," Agna whispers, suddenly unsure about this little meeting the group has been dragged to.
Harvald solemnly shakes his head "No" but there is a sense about his words that if his lord has decreed the drow welcome, it is not for him to speak against it.
"Ivy, how well do you know this part of the Darklands? We are actually looking for a guide, and if this Geirni wants you out of his...away from here, I mean, you would at least have some people to look out for you."
"That's a good point, Hilde. You seem to know this place well. Perhaps you'd prefer to go with us."
Troubled by the drow and still uncertain why Ivy is as fidgety as she appears to be, Stáli stands warily unsure of whether to approach the throne or continue to converse with the gnome at the back.
Ivy shrugs "Not know much... lived in Fasturvault most of time."
You move through the chamber to come before the Lord in his throne. The drow slides to one side of the area, lurking and watching - though with geneal expression. Halvard goes ahead of you, speaking to introduce "Lord Geirni.... Gunther is dead, slain by skis'raal. We all would have died if not for these sun-landers. They came and slew the beasts, and then set us free" white lie going unnoticed except by you.
The lord looks somewhat shocked, but there is an edge of some satisfaction... as though you had just announced the death of a rival "His loss will be felt by Fasturvault, but the Sun-landers have made amends by slaying his killers... come forward and speak your names... what brings you to Fasturvault?"
"I come to reclaim my rightful place as lord of Dammerhall. The group of us were actually looking for someone here who might be able to guide us to and into the city."
"Hilde Forgedottir." The archivist bows in greeting, but her expression is guarded.
Stáli leaves Ivy's side and walks forward to Lord Geirni with a suspicious glance toward the drow. "I am Stáli Dammerhall. A servant of Torag seeking the lost arts of my forebears."
"I am Padrym Steelribs, here to assist the others in reclaiming our ancestral home."
Lord Geirni looks up with some surprise when Agna speaks of royal blood "Well met one and all... but Dammerhall is not a name of which I know. I am Lord Geirni Geirison, He-Speaks-the-Truth-But-Slowly... and here is Malathorn, emissary from the Drow kingdom beyond the fungal jungle and bearing words of peace."
The drow man bows graciously and smirks towards you as he speaks "Charmed"
"Pleasure to meet you, Lord. We have come to notify you of the death of one of your citizens, Gunther, I believe has been killed by the skis'raal. We defeated the beasts and rescued more of your subjects."
Hilde says nothing to the drow, but inclines her head in a slight bow.
"Two there were, but perhaps you've heard of other attacks? Lucky for your men Ivy found us and brought us to the site of the attack. We were able to save most before the skis'raal had ended them."
Stáli cocks an eyebrow and adds, "Words of peace? Has there been war?"
Replying to all and each in various turn Geirni speaks "Gunther was killed? By Skis'raal you say..." looking to your escort for confirmation before sighing "It is a loss, but by your words we have you to thank for bringing the bandits to justice."
"We have no trouble with those within the Fungal Jungle - it is not often that they venture further, and at any rate you have ended the threat."
"No words of war, but no words of peace either - before now."
Sense Motive
Padrym nods along, sensing nothing beyond surface intent.
"I doubt two Skis'raal dead has ended the threat, but what are these words of peace you speak of?"
Nar is intently watching whatever Stali was paying attention to, and notices nothing.
"We have come, as Lady Agna said, seeking a guide to this area from among your people. There is much we don't know, and much we would learn."
"Hilde speaks the truth. We are newcomers to this general area and require the services of one who might be able to guide us through this area."
The drow speaks on the terms of peace "Vothys, my home, wishes to formalize relations between our cities. Establish trade lines and post ambassadors... I am sure that you have seen similar in the surface world no?"
On the topic of guides, Geirni mulls before replying "Harvald, would you see them to the Blue Bat? No doubt Miatha Always-A-Song-Follows would know of any who are willing to walk beyond... I am sure these overlanders would pay a fair price?" last words spoken with an edge that implies you would accept.
"That would be fair. If we find someone who will assist us, compensation will not be an issue."
Hilde nods as well, marking the drow's words carefully for later reference.
Stáli nods slowly, unable to find fault with the drow's words, but having a sense that he should. "Thank you Geinir. This Miatha. He will know the best guides?"
Geirni responds "Aye, I would think she will" and Harvald gives a nod as well "Will that be all?"
"My business here seems to be concluded." Agna gives a bow of respect and turns to leave the King's presence.
I don't trust that fellow at all. Consorting with dark elves!
Stáli murmurs something that sounds vaguely like an apology. "Yes, I agree Agna. Let's go find this Miatha."
Waved away by Geirni, you see him return to speaking with the dark elf ambassador as you depart. Harvald waits until your steps have passed beyond the doors of his hall before he makes plain his view "By the stones... I've seen men crushed by rockfall, withered by age and struck down by disease... but nothing sinks my heart more than seeing the fool and the snake talking within."
"Who is this dark creature who he speaks with? You say a snake? What does it really want?"
"Wise not to trust the drow, they'll betray the gnomes at the first opportunity. Probably has others waiting in the wild, we should be wary. Hopefully this Maitha knows some secret ways through."
Agna turns to Ivy. "If you want to accompany us, Ivy, you are more than welcome. With the strange dealings going on with the Drow, I'm not sure if want to be here any longer than necessary, either."
"Aye, we'll have to find other places to trade down here, if Fasturvalt falls to the drow (may that day lie far from this one)."
With a heavy sigh "I don't know the drow by name, just by race... do you mean to leave with haste? Could you be swayed to stay and help to see if we cannot ken the drow's purpose here?"
Ivy nods at Agna's words, clearly indicating that she would consider it safer beside your party than remaining.
"Will anyone else know what has been spoken of in the room?"
"With all due respect, Harvald, what business do we outsiders have with your leader and the drow's dealings? We would be sticking our beards where they do not belong, I'm afraid."
"You think if the drow take Fasturvalt by force or trade they'll not look to us next? The drow are enemies of our people, and the gnomes would make fast allies. Best we linger and secure our flank, or we'll be forced to remember how our people lost their home in the first place."
"As for the words, Stáli, rare is the kingdom without spies, and rare is the information that cannot be purchased. We need only find those in love with intrigue to learn of the meeting with the drow. Of course, that warning applies to us as well, no doubt news of our arrival and purpose have already spread through the city."
"Padrym has the right of it. We'll not long survive in this place without allies, and though I'd happily let this fool Geirni reap the reward for treating with the drow his people may not deserve that fate. A wiser ruler in Fasturvalt would be an unalloyed good."
"I'd have to agree as well. Though I may not care what happens to this gnome city, we need allies and not enemies here. Let us see what we can do to make sure of that."
"If we have some spies on us, maybe a few of us should bring some attention to ourselves and go shopping or walking around while a couple of the others of you slip out while their focus is elsewhere."
"Have any of you seen any other dwarves? We won't be inconspicuous, I fear."
"Not thus far, but perhaps Ivy would be able to advise us on others who would be open to working with us if not dwarves."
Harvald looks visibly relieved "We will do what we can, after we speak with Miatha, we can see some of the other elders of Fasturvault... perhaps Tammar Even-the-Stones-Listen, or Gaster Dressed-in-Iron can tell us more." Harvald leads you through the town to a place known as The Blue Bat.
The Blue Bat sports a large mushroom bark sign adorned with a bright blue marble tiled bat insignia. Smells wafting through from the lit interior betray a pot of peppery stew bubbling over a warm fire. The first inhabitant you see is a small two-legged toothy dinosaur that bounds playful towards you. A female voice warns "Watch yourselfs bearded cousins.... he is Caspar Watch-Out-He-Bites... and... he bites if you don't watch your fingers." The sound comes from a middle aged and comely svirfneblin that makes her way out.
"I thought the dwarves had naming down to perfection, but I think your people have taken it to another level entirely Ivy. I don't need to be told more than once to keep my fingers away from 'Watch-Out-He-Bites'." Stáli breathes in deeply. "Mmmm, that smells delicious after our rations for our travels here."