Eldon finishes his snack, and follows his new friends into the backroom.
Merzhan rises chuckling and notices a patron eyeing the adjourning group.The smile leaves his face. Turning towards the man he makes firm eye contact and hold it until the other looks away.
Intimidate check
1d20+7=23
The patron, a burly caravan guard from the looks of him, flushes and looks away.
The group heads to a back area. The room is furished with a comfortable set of table and chairs, although Eldon finds even the dwarf seats a bit overlarge. A warm fire chases the bit of evening Spring mountain chill out of the air, and an oil-filled glass hurricane lamp burns brightly on the table. They arrainge their food and drink and shut the door behind them to discourage any more curious folk.
The elf finds a comfortable coner where he can watch the door and everyone else. He tries to be near an exit.
Then he makes his bow comfortable and resumes his quiet contemplation of the wineglass.
Sondergang waits till everyone is seated then speks
"Welcome Comrades..., for those who arived late,I am Sondergang Wulfsson of clan Hammerfall.My forfathers built the halls in which we seek to find our fortunes..and maybe something more than just gold and gems."
"Some of us seek knowledge" he nods towards Merzhan.."some to restore their honour" another nod this time to Svetla...then he looks to the other dwarves in the group his eyes seeming to light up with a distant fire.
"Some of us as a sacred duty to our ancestors so that they may sleep once more in Torags gentle embrace"
"Each and everyone of you will recieve reward according to your desires...but there are items within the halls of sacred and historical significance to my people...these items should not be considered as common loot but each of you will recieve fair recompense for their recovery. In all other cases a fair division of all we take from the halls would I think be appropriate"
With a knock on the door Navorn enters the room. "Pardon the interruption, But I ment to intervene before your group moved back here. Allow me to Introduce myself I am Navorn of shandrell a Bard by profession a teller of tales and a keeper of lore. I hear of your planes to brave Tharkad and have wish to join you. I have some talents that may prove useful as well as another sword to use never hurts.And it will give me a chance to sing tales of great deeds never sung before. What say you."
Navorn stands there awaiting a reply.
"Abadar's blessing be on us all, I expect us to dontate some money back to this community for all it has suffered through the ages as well. It is my duty to bring Law and Civilzation to Tharkad-Kul, with its renewal there will be many buisness opportunities to help this community and region grow". Ingra looks to Sondergang "You are very wise and noble to take this mantle, I will stay by your side until we see the task complete. Ingra smiles a broad grin and takes a heafty haul from her tankard of Ale that would make any sailor blush!
Sondergang looks up as the young man enters
"Ah a chronicler...can you make maps..and keep records straight lad..if so you are doubly welcome to our group. Wew were just discussing the basics of our partnership. Come and take a seat"
To Ingrahild he says
"Aye I have no doubt we will be spending a lot of time here..but donating to the community will only mean it ending up in the Barons pockets...better we spread it around by hires and purchases both of which I have no doubt we will need in plenty"
The elf finds a comfortable coner where he can watch the door and everyone else. He tries to be near an exit.
Then he makes his bow comfortable and resumes his quiet contemplation of the wineglass.
Divel:
"I got the maps what I could Divel, but there ain't much about this entrance to the Silent Halls. Most folks try around front or the River Gate, but this little side one might be a way for a few adventurers to scuttle in quiet-like. The League takes care of its own, but I want first cut at the proceeds you find in there."
"All I can say is the first is a ripped copy supposedly straight from a rubbing of the Great Map in the Mountain's Heart Throne Room. The second is a bit a hobbit sold to me a while ago ..can't rightly vouch for it."
"Hammer brother Sondergang, the Baron deserves his due, without taxation, and tithes there cannot be roads built, cannot be churches gabled, cannot have children educated. Taxation is a hallmark of civilization. Buisness is promoting the civilised species, by Abadar's will taxation is just and lawful...of course, that is if the Baron uses the funds for the advancement of civilised ideals, and as a priest of Abadar, I have it on good authority that the taxes are used in a just manner, until proven otherwise I will keep a strict ledger of what we pull out of Tharkad-Kul and make sure the community gets her fair share" Ingra looks to the rest of the party,"Thank the civilised lands we have the Baron here to provide us with such an opportunity, to have stores and civilised amenities so close to our target, the Baron's staked claim is very legal and fair."
|
"I am sure you will do as you see fit. As will we all. I am sure the restoration of the fabled halls will do far more for the region than any amount of taxation will ever do.
A man or woman profits as a result of their actions, and those who are bold benefit by sharing their fortunes, but the sands of fate will bury one who profits only by the works of those greater than himself."
At Sondergang's comments, Divel gets up and walks over to Navorn.
"Yours then."
He pulls out a piece of yellowing parchment and hands it over. "Merrianor."
Navorn
The elf returns to his seat and wineglass.
"I hope he means were gettin' paid" Eldon mutters to himself.
"Shield Sister,I, for one have no problem with paying the baron his rightful taxesthe law is the law after all and, as you seem best fitted for it, I have no objection to you acting as our treasurer. But..you seem to be suggesting that we should donate further monies to this community over and above that rightful tithe. That should surely be a decision each of us should make for him or herself and I for one would rather see the money in the hands of the honest artisans and merchants of this place than squirrled away in the Barons vaults"
"Perhaps the question of what to do with treasure and rewards would be best settled after we are in possession of them? Should we instead decide when it is that we are to set out on this journey?"
Cut of in mid flow by the interjection Sondergang almost smiles.
"Aye...lets not count our chickens eh,enough time to argue when the deed is done. I would say some time around midday tomorrow...that will let us make final arrangements in the morning and we can make half a day from here ere we camp for the night"
"Does anyone know what we might expect to face on our journying to and from the Halls...just in case"
As Svetla eases her way to the side of the room, she eyes those Sondergang has allowed to join him. Slowly sipping from her goblet, she watches, curious to see which of them will speak up first. Svetla already realizes she will have little to add at this point of the journey. She knows next to nothing about Tharkad-Kûl. She will only be able to repeat what is commonly known from the songs and tales bards have spread in the 800 years since its fall. She keeps silent even on this for surely one of Navorn's training knows it better than she.
Divel points at Navorn, "he does."
"Now."
"Master Sondergang, I accept the role of party treasurer, I will bookkeep all mandatory taxes, and a 10% Tithe to the church, how it is split to the churches we can decide at the time, the rest is shared equally among all in attendance"
Ingra then swivels and faces Navorn, "Well Lad, don't stand there come tell us all what you have."
"I refuse to give 10% of my, emphasis on my, share to the church!" Eldon states. This tiny adventurer takes his loot seriously. Sure he might blow some of it on ale, licorice, and more ale, but it was still his choice. I mean, c'mon, they needed him to be sneaky, but now they also wanted him to be charitble?
"Mistress Hammastrum, I believe that, since this is not a strictly religious mission, or at least not explicitly funded by the church, that it's customary for any rewards to be split amongst the party before being tithed. Of course, again, I don't think this is the time for that discussion (though you did bring it up).
The more pressing matter is when do we depart, and it appears that Master Wulfsson has just addressed that. In that case, I am left with but one remaining concern: what's for supper?"
Ingra looks a bit astounded and even a bit hurt at the thought the whole party not wanting to tithe to a church. Looking at little Eldon and in a soothing tone "Oh little Eldon, I worry for your soul" She pulls out a large book, what looks to be an accountant's ledger, she puts on a pair of spectacles and licks her finger and turns a few pages, looking up to the whole group, "Ah, it seems I was too ernst in my tithe expectation, I just assumed being the good folk you all are, you would want to donate towards the shepparding of your very souls, alas, I concede, the 10% tithing will indeed come after the spoils have been split into the individual shares, if people want to participate it is on their own accord" She looks into Eldons big innocnet eyes when she stresses the word participate. The book is closed with a loud thud, Ingra smiles and suggests, "Now, is anyone ready for dessert?". She gracefully places her glasses away and heads off into the kitchen. "Eldon, come help me it will be worth a genorous piece of apple pie and a spoonful of icecream
The fire at the hearth in the room crackles merrily as the group discusses their tactics. Navorn studies the frayed yellowing parchment Divel handed to him. Ingra waits for Eldon to join her.
"I will gladly have some dessert, Ingrahild." Borondon says, holding out his plate towards Eldon. "I would also like to have a look at that parchment, if you please." he says to Navorn. "It is a map, no?"
"Well as it seems I know am the map maker I will need to pick up a few things." He looks over the yellowed parchment "Humm skeletons,walking dead I would guess and it seems large rats, traps and centapends the size of small ponies." he looks over the group deep in thought "Yes seems were in for a rough go at it , If we can spare a day I would like to pour though the towns records and lore might be something useful there and there is the need of ink and writing sheets for are maps" he hums to himself and old song a drawven tune of ages past of glories and great works . The he looks to the group. "We need to have a name, this could be the start of an epic tale a name is a must"
"Tharkad-Kul has stood dead for over 800 years, I do not see one more day making a difference, a day for gathering knowledge and checking facts could prove useful to us all. Hammer brother Sondergang, Hammer brother Borondon, are you two alright with the extra day, does your calling to our homeland require haste? Ingra looks into the eyes of her clansmen to make sure the extra day is ok, she then looks to the nonstout folk "Noble members of the realms what say we take another day to prepare on our own, buy stock, get goods, settle our debts, and say goodbye to our loved ones for now" She looks to the handsome man from the east and the beautiful human girl who came with Sondergang, "Maybe spend an evening getting to know one another" A sideways glance is cast towards Borondon.She then pays attention to little Eldon, "Enjoy a big supper, and more licorice. She closes in to the group, For tommorow our lives take a dark turn as we venture into the heart of Tharkad-Kul" Ingra starts clearing the plates from supper.
|
|
" In my homeland the open stretches of desert are harsh and when travellers meet under amicable circumstances, it is but a matter of time before their lives may be in each other's hands. It is a custom for those who share a meal and hospitality to spend the night sharing tales,"
His gaze lasts a fraction of a second longer on Svetla than the others. "And it would be a great pleasure to exchange tales with such intrigueing company"
Eldon digs in to the food served, and all seems well, until Mom's words reach his ears, " For tommorow our lives take a dark turn as we venture into the heart of Tharkad-Kul" He cannot help but shudder as his imagination runs wild.
"Aye a day here or there won't make a difference...and maps of the halls are useful...but what I wanted to know was are anyof you local...do you know what we might encounter between here and the halls. Are there any bandits who try and prey on those returning from the halls to take their hard earned rewards....are there any goblin or orc tribes that pose a danger to travellers..that sort of knowledge can save our lives"
"I'll come with you on the morrow" he tells the young bard "and perhaps Merzhan would like to accompany us"
"I've had a long, hard road to get here. A day of rest would be most welcome." Borondon tries his best to smile at Ingrhild
Ingrahild excuses herself after the table is cleared and heads out of the inn she spends her evening pouring over any texts she can find in her church, even records of funerals and causes of death for those poor souls who died in the Dwarven Halls. Yawning a few times to stay awake Ingrahild is a determined woman.
know:Religion.
Ingra spends the evening researching what she can, her thoughts drift towards that handsome dwarf Borondon
Ingrahild pores through temple records in an attempt to glean any clues. She discoveres the dwarven churches and many dwarven communities have tried to take back Tharkad-Kûl over the years, but none have succeeded. Large parties were met with swarms of undead and humanoids. When Varrakezion the Wyrm came to settle, most lost heart of ever freeing the Silent Halls.
Ingrahild's eye is caught by a saga fragment written by an early cusader preserved in a small codex called The Tharkadian Crusade:
We marched with hammers high
under the darkening sky
We were a mighty host
Sent forth to battle ghosts
But in the end we failed
Our brothers' corpses wailed
As they took up their blades
And joined the thronging shades.
Svetla politely declines the offers to refill her wine goblet with any spirits. All three of the dwarves shook their heads unwilling, and perhaps unable, to comprehend a prefence for drinking only water. As others began sharing stories and tales, she shared the one that got her here.
"Four years ago, I paid for passage with a merchant caravan travelling to the port city of Brons. I was going there looking to become an apprentice to one of the Master Carpenters. Also making her way to Brons was a swordswoman, with plans of retiring once she reached the city, who had hired on as a guard." Svetla took another sip from her goblet to wet her lips.
"During the second week on the road, the caravan was attacked by a group of ill-organized bandits. After the fighting, the swordswoman had said she recognized in me a natural talent for the blade and offered to take on my training, if I would apprentice with her." The fighter looked into her almost empty drink remembering that conversation. "It didn't take her long to convince me. I knew I would need more funds once the caravan arrived in Brons and life on the road had shown me the necessity of such training.
"The next three years seemed to flow as my teacher, Sensei Straightedge, taught me every thing she knew and every thing she could manage to get others to teach me. A few months ago, an old friend sent her a letter seeking assistance. He was looking for likely individuals to share in a venture that a clansman of his was preparing to undertake.
"She had been trying to find a way to prepare me for the fields of war. That was it. With a letter of introduction in my belongings and a ship's rolling decks beneath my feet is how I found myself a part of this enterprise of Wulffson's."
As the night wore on, Svetla enjoyed the companionship of the newly forged party. Eventually, Svetla excused herself for a need to visit the privies. Her business done, she decides call it anight, heading to her room to sleep til the morning. As she nods off to sleep, Svetla wonders if there is a bounty hall in Stoneroot. Perhaps there is a fighter's training hall where she might gleam some information.
Sondergang spends the day with Navorn searching through the records..though he doesn't have the necessary skillshimself he wants to guide the bards researches towards the following
Local hazards on the road to and from the Halls
anything regarding the Wyrm its habits, hunting range and general activity cycle
adventurers tales from the halls
"Rest."
DM
Over the course of the following day Merzhan heads to The Magic Box and attemps to stike up a conversation with the owner a bout the type of magic that was commonly used at the time of the fall.
Diplomacy?
1d20+3=12Knowledge Arcana(should it be required to interpret info)
1d20+6=25
Ranarios has a long discussion with you about the dwarves' magic, something of a hobby of his
Info:
Sondergang spends the day with Navorn searching through the records..though he doesn't have the necessary skillshimself he wants to guide the bards researches towards the following
Local hazards on the road to and from the Halls
anything regarding the Wyrm its habits, hunting range and general activity cycle
adventurers tales from the halls
Info:
Varrakezion is in an inactive mode at this time. He has not been seen for close to 5 years. He demands tribute in the form of gold from Stoneroot every year, brought to him by the baron's seneschal. This is one reason the taxes remain fairly high; that and the humanoid menace.
Adventuring tales exist in abundance. They bascially boil down to 'there's lots of undead, be careful and bring lots of priests.'
Divel:
You do find an interesting item in that he is linked with Stoneroot's shadowy theives guild, The Lock Cutters. This is the first that you have heard that Stoneroot even supports an organized theives guild.
After her morning meal, Svetla goes in search of whatever information she may find. A guardsman eating his own dawn's repast at the inn's commons has given her the idea to ask some of the off-duty guardsmen. She heads over to the barracks where she asks them any info they might have and if there's a Combat Hall for training up and coming young warriors.
Eldon sits through everyone's hustle and bustle, trying to look like he has something important to do also, but he really does not. He is always ready for the bad times to get worse, and can't wait to travel the halls of Tha-whatever.
Keirgan sits with Eldon, muttering something about "important preparations."
He produces some bark parchment and a piece of charcoal, and marks out a tic-tac-toe board, remaining stony-faced the whole while.
Eldon:
###
#X#
###
Your go, mate.
Bondon stays at Horm's, getting some rest and cleaning himself up a little. In the moring he goes to the common room for breakfast, wondering if Ingrahild will be serving it.
Navorn spends the next day pouring though old texts and scrolls looking for maps or useful knowledge of what is to come. After he hits the streets talking to the locale and pardons of several travens to get a feel of the land and locale knowledge.
After her morning meal, Svetla goes in search of whatever information she may find. A guardsman eating his own dawn's repast at the inn's commons has given her the idea to ask some of the off-duty guardsmen. She heads over to the barracks where she asks them any info they might have and if there's a Combat Hall for training up and coming young warriors.
Svetla discovers The Pikeyard, a building that houses the baronial arms and armor that are issued to townsfolk in case of a seige. In Stoneroot all able-bodied people between 16 and 50 are expected to train in basic combat quarterly.
The Pikeyard is a large dirt field with a collection of stone buildings surrounding it. A selection of townsfolk are training this morning as Svetla approaches. Several grizzed older folks sit in the shade and armchair critique the drill.
Svetla approaches a stout Dwarven lady of middleage dressed in black who sports a large warhammer. The woman, named Kordinnmar, is a veteran of the Order of the Raven, the local ranger chapterhouse. She is visiting her town guard friends for a little early morning BS session and some exercise.
"Call me Kordi." She says, pumping Svetla's hand
Kordi is more than happy to trade stories of the area. She has traversed the Western Pass many times.
info:
Kordi is happy to do some sparring with Svetla if she wishes.
Navorn spends the next day pouring though old texts and scrolls looking for maps or useful knowledge of what is to come. After he hits the streets talking to the locale and pardons of several travens to get a feel of the land and locale knowledge.
...
Navorn spends some quality time poring through what information is publicly available. Unfortunately, there isn't much. Maps and records of the Silent Halls are rare to find, and guarded fiercely by their owners. Navorn does collect quite a bit of anecdotal material while strolling the streets of Stoneroot:
Info:
The ancient dwarvish city is full of undead, some which seem to be unique to the area.
The dwarves had a lot of traps installed, many of which are magically powered. There is supposedly a master control somewhere that neutralizes all traps within the city.
The humanoids stick to the outer levels, mainly out of fear of the more fearsome undead that lurk in the deeper halls.
It is said that if someone dies in Tharkad-Kûl that their corpse will rise and join the ranks of the undead by its own volition.
There have been rumors that the Drow have been sighted by adventurers that managed to get in deep in the halls.
Varrakezion the Wyrm is supposed to enjoy word games. A hobbit was spared his life by stumping him on a riddle.
There are access tunels that lead to the Darklands from Tharkad-Kûl.
DM