When the large wolf arrives to find the exit blocked, she starts digging with her large paws. All the while, she remains cautious about further rocks falling, and tries to understand why everybody else was just standing around dumb-founded instead of helping to clear the way.
Pieces of rock as big as his fist bounce off his shield. Muse keeps his eyes on the route ahead of him, trying his level best not to twist his ankle on the ground as it shifts beneath his feet. When he reaches the blockage, he looks frantically for a way forward. "Damnit. Damnit! Asher, what've you got for me?"
With all the dust in the air, it takes Muse a moment to realize that the party arcanist is bleeding from the head. "Turion, how are you holding up?" he asks, with just a hint of panic in his voice.
Everyone catches up at the barrier (300 ft) and begins working quickly on a way around. Nelly helps get some rocks out of the way while others begin searching nearby tunnels. Mel finds something a tunnel that might lead somewhere and gets some help searching it. She hasn't concluded yet that it will certainly lead back around to the tunnels out.
Having reached the blockage, Kazador...
And Algric...
Kazador is breathing hard and has difficulty determining where to go next. Algric, however, narrows the detour options down to two tunnels.
Standing at the cave-in, Túrion looks around for an escape route while rummaging in his pockets for the potion vial he was given the day before.
While before there was a slight onset of panic, he manages to focus and go about things methodical.
Nelly gets hid by a large block of stone from the ceiling as she continues digging, nervously looking at the ceiling and sniffing the air - maybe there was another way out?
Rocks continue to fall but Fyrtor only takes a glancing blow. He offers a prayer of gratitude when he hears Turion call out that he'd found a way.
Turion carefully examines the two passages that Algric has narrowed things down to and barely manages to hear a hawk's scream through one of the side passages! You've found your way out!
Algric sprinted down the passage, huffing and puffing as he dodged falling rocks.
Kazador, though, was knocked off his feet as a wall caved in. The dwarf sputtered and cursed as he threw the Masonry off of him, only to have a large slab of stone bounce off of his helmet. Fortunately for him, he was wearing an enchanted helm, otherwise his brain would likely have decorated the floor. He quickly continued his flight.
Seeing that the others have the search well in hand, Mel pauses by Túrion's side. "You have those gloves? Quickly, pass them to me."
She takes the gloves from him, dons them, and sends up a quick, wordless prayer to Ostara as she heals him, dodging bits of falling rock as she does.
Kelian heads steadily towards the exit discovered by Algric and Túrion, rocks clanging off his armor as he goes.
Muse rushes forward over the treacherous terrain, blinking dust out of his eyes and coughing it out of his lungs. His false life is close to exhausted, but he's yet to actually be injured.
"That way's the way out!" he shouts, in case anyone missed it.
Brolin and Fytor make it out the surface of the desert (at 400 ft) and catch their breath, free from the collapsing tunnels and rubble. Brolin and Kazador near the exit but the collapse is growing worse! Rubble collapses everywhere, crashing into those still in the tunnels and making it difficult to cover more ground as the Dwarven home collapses with roaring crashes and dust-filled air.
"Much appreciated, Mel!", Túrion thanks the other Elf, keeping the vial in hand:"Guess I get to hold on to this longer...but now, lets get out of here...Nelly, run!"
Struggling past the rubble now on the ground, Túrion makes sure that both Nelly and Mel make it out without problems. Where possible, he attempts to jump past the larger areas of rubble.
Nelly gets hit by a large Rock while shifting towards the new exit indicated by the others but pushes onward. Almost ignoring the rubble, she plows through with pure strength, brushing aside smaller rocks clearing a path for the crates and the elves behind her.
Algric ran with all of his might as his home fell around him. He had once thought that this would be the only place he would ever see. That he would never see the tyrannical light of day, due to the safety of his home. Now the very same home was a very real possibility of being what would kill him.
Kazador came right behind. He didn’t even try to dodge out of the way of the falling rocks. Instead he held his buckler over his head, and plowed through the falling rubble and debris.
Though the footing is growing more treacherous, Mel passes through the the tunnels of dying Kazad Gravr with the grace of a dancer.
Kelian plows forward, heading for the exit as quickly as he can, but the increasing difficulty of the footing slows him down.
Kelian presses his hand to his chest and takes a deep breath, feeling his wounds ease.
Fyrtor struggles between staying back with those lagging and pulling ahead. Kelian seems to be holding up ok, I should run a head. If Mel hadn't it would have taken even longer to get passed the cave in. But ... Gah, there's nothing I can do. Sarenrae protect him! Slowly he begins to lengthen his lead though he refuses to lose sight completely.
He able to lessen some of the blows but the rocks are falling in earnest now.
Brolin and Fyrtor arrive safely outside the cave. Kazador and Algric make it to right next to the cave exit (moving 50 ft with a double move, I believe) while Nelly and Turion nearly escape as well.
The cave-in continues getting worse as the earth roars. Whole sections of the tunnel behind you collapse entirely. Larger chunks begin falling from the ceiling! Surely you have little time remaining! So many rocks are falling that some of the debris is unavoidable!
The heroes risk being knocked off their feet!
As Túrion runs, the ground rumbles as large parts of the interior cave complex come tumbling down. The tremor-like ripple throws him off balance, and he falls flat on the ground.
Getting back up, he starts running again.
After moving a bit further, he sees the exit up ahead. Taking a step on one of the larger Rocks, he takes a leap of faith towards the exit.
Landing at the cave mouth, he tumbles forward, barely standing.
Nelly, aware of the ongoing collapse, rushed outside with a calm strenght. She had already been close to the exit, and while she showed no interest to stop right outside the cave, she did quickly turn around to look and make sure Túrion also made it outside once she finds herself a safe distance away.
The two dwarves stumbled their way out of what was once their home. Kazador took a few steps and then fell to his knees. He removed his helmet and wiped the blood from his brow. The dwarf’s face and beard was covered in blood, and his body was covered in bruises. With a groan he forced himself to stagger to a safe distance, hammer in one hand and helm in the other. Finally he fell down and lay on his back, face to the sun. He was too tired and battered to move.
Algric came out in better shape. He too was bruised, but luckily that was the extent of his physical injuries. He got to a safe distance and turned around, staring at the remnants of his home with tear filled eyes.
Mel manages to keep her feet and Kelian pushes forward, assembling everyone in the cloud of dust outside the tunnel's entrance. Looking back over the ruins of Kazad Gravr, you see many sunken areas of this wasteland's earth where the Dwarven city fell. You can now catch your breath and plan your next moves.
As Kazador breaks free of the colapse Fyrtor See's his wounds are serious. Reach him he says, "Be easy friend." Then a pale blue glow surrounds his hand.
When Mel makes it out Fyrtor says, "Well, that was close. I doubt few of the orcs who were in the city survived. We should be on guard though. Some may have escaped and they may suspect we were the cause of the fall of the fortress. Mel, are you able to work your talents? I have some power still, but perhaps we should use the wand?"
"One minute," Mel says, trying to catch her breath following their unexpected sprint. She walks a moment until her heart races a bit less strongly.
Once she's recovered a bit, she tends to Kazador's wounds.
With Kazador looking substantially better, Mel marvels at her new gloves. "These make it ... so much easier," she says. "I think I can manage a couple more today. Who's hurt?"
Kelian takes a moment to press a hand to his chest.
Túrion takes a moment to catch his breath, then seeks out Kazador, handing the Anklets to him.
They were his to distribute, but based on a mutual understanding originating from nonverbal exchange via their Eyes, he believed the Dwarf had no objections to Mel already making use of her gloves.
Kazador got to his feet, and marveled at how his wounds were healed! True, he still had the odd bruise, and was exhausted, but he had been on death’s door. He wiped the blood from his mouth, which had been evidence of internal bleeding until just recently. ”Thank ye, Mel. I think Algric needs help as well, but he’s too proud to say it.” He then nodded his thanks to Turion, acknowledging the elf for the show of respect. Silently he handed out the artifacts. A few days ago it would have felt like sacrilege. Now? It felt right. He knew that Torag watched them. He truly believed that his god had kept Kazad Gravr stable just long enough for them to get the artifacts, and then had dropped it onto the heads of the orcs which defiled it. The fact that they all lived was further proof of divine providence. And by providing the rightful wielders the artifacts, he felt that he was doing the will of the divine.
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Fyrtor thanked Kazador as he accepted the necklace. As he settled the claws around his neck it seemed to him a great weight. It was the mark of a new duty he was accepting and of a pledge he had made his friend. The druid was quiet for a time and seemed to be seemed to be deep in thought.
Fingering the claws he reflected on the purpose of the magic they carried. It was not magic of healing, as the gloves prepared for Mel were, or of knowledge and skill as the anklets Brolin had received, nor was it defensive as the helm of Kazador's ancestors. The claws harnessed and strengthened the power of destruction. Fyrtor contimplated why this would be the gift that he had been proffered. What did it say about him that, if Kazador was right, Torag chose this for him? He did not serve Torag, but the wisdom of gods was not to be disregarded lightly. It bothered him. He did not think of himself as one who sought destruction. He fought to protect those he loved and cared for. Yet he was given not the power to heal or protect, but to ravage and burn. Why?
Muse stares, shell shocked, dizzy from leaving Spirit Dance, at the valleys and craters winding their way across the landscape, tracing the halls and vaults of Kazad Gravr.
"Cayden's cup." He shakes his head and fumbles for his flask. "We just buried like a dozen people at least." He searches for an expletive strong enough and fails to find one, so he just barks out a note of incredulous laughter and takes a drink. "Halak was a druid, there's still a chance some of the blues survived - "
"Asher, I'm swapping you out. Omit, do you know how he might have -"
"Wildshape. It's what he used to turn into a bear, and if he can turn into a bear he can turn into an elemental. If I were a druid, I'd be earthgliding to safety within ten seconds of the first rocks coming down."
"Do you know how he might have saved the rest of them?"
"I'm afraid that depends on what spells he had prepared. And even if - "
"And even if he had a spell to save them, they're trapped underground right now - "
"With nothing but a hobbit-sized elemental to dig them out, yes."
"Dammit. I'll eat my hat if that earthquake killed Halak, and there might be more survivors besides. My eyes aren't keen as an elf's, so I'll need help searching for them."
Mel draws a weary hand across her gritty brow, succeeding in little but rearranging the dirt deposited by the collapsing dwarven settlement.
She joins Brolin and looks out over the wreckage. Clouds of dust rise into the early summer sky, towering up above them all.
"All right," she says. "I'll help you look. But we must be quick ... any survivors down there don't have much time."
She points up at the clouds. "And those are going to draw every curious eye for miles," she adds. "More orc tribes for certain. But as I once told Vors, there are more nasty things down here in this desert than just orcs." She grimaces. "When we first met Halak, he was wearing armor made of dragon hide. That had to have come from somewhere, and I rather doubt it was bought at market."
She shades her eyes and begins scanning for any sign of orcish survivors.
"Hold that thought. The corridors are not stabilized, they collapsed thoroughly. If there are survivors, they will be in smaller rooms of the side, near the entrances, with reinforced ceilings. Your best bet is to follow the traces above ground, then look for deadends that could indicate rooms still somewhat intact."
Túrion heads over to Nelly, removing the ropes from her Harness, scratching her ears while checking the crates for damage: "Of course, it is unlikely someone tried to run INTO a room, rather than try for the exit. So it makes little sense to start digging on a vague guess. But maybe Fyrtor could help?", he looks at the Druid lost in thought.
When Turion mentions his name Fyrtor looks up, "What? Oh right. I'm not sure any will have survived. If you find a place you suspect might have survivors I can summon an earth elemental to check it, but they won't remain for long, not even for a full minute. It should ba able to move in and check, then report back, but only for a single spot. I could complete the summoning a few times at most now."
”And why should we? The orcs were allies of convenience, were they not? I think we should get out of here before their survivors rally and come after us. Either that or other tribes may arrive to investigate. I’d hate for these weapons and artifacts to fall into Orcish hands because we stayed behind to look for them.”
Túrion shrugs, then answers Kazador: "We still need someone to crew the ship. Finding some of those allies of convenience would likely allow us to get going faster than the alternatives. That said, it's a cruel way to die, and their nature compels them to try and help. I would, as well, but my body still aches. Running like that did not help, and I think the jump was a bad idea..."
Gently pushing Nelly down, he lies down next to her, then sits on the ground leaning against her. "I need a few minutes anyway...so they may as well do something worthwhile. Tribes will also track those traces leading away from here...especially ones like the Crates will no doubt leave. So we really want that ship ready to go the moment we get there - which leads us back to finding survivors."
He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.
"I just hate the thought of leaving someone to die trapped in a hole in the ground," Mel says softly.
"Mel, help Brolin search, if there are survivors we can decide what to do about it. For now I will see to Algric and myself. I can't help but worry that Kazador is right. We should not delay long, though I will help if I can." With that he pulls out the wand of cure light wounds and moves to heal Algric.
Following Turion's structural advice on where to search, Mel spots a medium-sized, dark-brown shape moving earth and rubble in a collapsed portion of Kazad Gravr. It doesn't seem to have noticed you yet.
"There," Mel says, pointing. She moves towards it, the uneven ground slowing her approach. She makes no particular effort to approach stealthily.
"Halak?" she calls as she gets near.