Ingra is up early the next day and back at the inn, she does have a commitment to finish her shift before heading off. She prepares a large breakfast for the group and sets it out for any who are there. If Borondon notices she gave him an especially large portion of food and a large glass of goat's milk. "Got to keep your strength up Borondon for the road ahead, I heard a poem about Tharkad-Kul, I will share it with ye if ya like."
Ingra is up early the next day and back at the inn, she does have a commitment to finish her shift before heading off. She prepares a large breakfast for the group and sets it out for any who are there. If Borondon notices she gave him an especially large portion of food and a large glass of goat's milk. "Got to keep your strength up Borondon for the road ahead, I heard a poem about Tharkad-Kul, I will share it with ye if ya like."
Borondon gladly accepts the meal from Ingrahild. His face is washed and his hair and beard is a little neater. He is not wearing his armor, but his clothes are still tattered and stained.
"Aye. I would like to hear the poem, Ingrahild."
DM
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Before meeting up with the others, Merzhan makes his way over to the Order of the Raven Chapter House.
Explaining that he is a travelling foreigner, he asks about the regional humanoids, namely what type, numbers, haunts, habits, structure etc.
Diplomacy
Diplomacy (1d20+3=14)
Svetla thanks Kordi for the information though she declines her offer to a friendly bout. "Unfortunately, I cannot. I don't want to accidentally injury anything when my companions are counting on my blade," Svetla declines. "Besides, there are still have a couple of places I'd like to try for more news of the Tharkad-Kûl."
Svetla gets up after sharing most of the morning with Kordi and some of the guardsmen. Before walking away from the table, Svetla asks for directions to the local sickhouses and herbalists.
Svetla leaves the Pikeyard to go back to Horm's Tavern to gather up Navorn. Svetla has had an idea for another possible venue of information and feels that he would be the most likely cannidate to follow up on it.
NAVORN
If Navorn asks, Svetla has plans to go the local sickhouses and the herbalists to find out what she can.
DM
At the herbalists, she'll ask about strange remedies that were bought before and after known attempts to enter Tharkad-Kûl. She'll also asks if there are any local hedge witched, who may have assisted a party of adventurers determined not to pay the Baron's taxes.
Navorn:
Divel:
Divel discovers that the Lock Cutters are more of a professional organized crime family. They don't have a lot of street presence, but they run many of the town's seedier businesses and rackets behind the scenes. They escpecially prey on the caravans, that is their turf, no questions asked. Steal by the caravan grounds and you will get a second smile. Reven is a fence for them, and he runs a lot of their accounting dodges to escape baronial taxation.
Before meeting up with the others, Merzhan makes his way over to the Order of the Raven Chapter House.
Explaining that he is a travelling foreigner, he asks about the regional humanoids, namely what type, numbers, haunts, habits, structure etc.
Diplomacy
Diplomacy (1d20+3=14)
The Order of the Raven chapter house is a large inn-like building with a large courtyard and a substntial stables. The brothers, in mostly earth tones and black cloaks engage in the many chores fighting men do while there is no fighting to be done.
Merzhan sees a few folks discussing herbs and mushrooms in a corner. A group of teenaged boys clack quarterstaves in the open courtyard. A smith works on a longsword blade across the way.
A man walks up and speaks to Merzhan:
"The name's Grenn, stranger. I saw you wandering, can I help you?"
After asking your questions he scratches his beard and lays out what he knows:
info:
Sometimes you get ones that are new to even us. That damnned mountain pulls the bad in from the four corners of the world. If it likes the dark, and if it's evil by nature, chances are you'll find it on that mountain.
The humanoids usually call for an invasion every decade or so, you can almost plan it out. They skulk in caves all over the mountainside, and all around the Dark Ridge Mountains. The mountains hereabout are riddled with cave complexes.
Many of the tribes worship Gruumsh or Maglubiyet, but some actually worship the Lord of Undead, Orcus himself. Those are the ones to watch out for. Especially the Black Shroud Orcs. They are Orcus-worshipping cannibals and inbred necrophiliacs. You ever see a banner that is all black with two red eyes on it you run like Tiamat is chasing you!"
Svetla:
Svetla heads to the Order of Vesta chapter house. The Hearthknights have a small hospital they fund and run. When Svetla asks about survivors from the Silent Halls, the knight she talks to clucks his tongue.
"So young and already lured to that evil place. Vesta protect you young lady."
The knight, named Sir Arion, allows there is one person on the premises that has recently gone into the depths of Tharkad-Kûl. He is resting, but the knight, perhaps hoping that Svetla might be warned away, agrees to show her.
The man is a slender type with the look of a southron, with coloring much like Merzhad. His hair has gone white, even though he couldn't be far past 25. Sir Arion keeps Svetla at the doorway of the man's chambers. The man is sleeping, but he twitches and moans loudly. Sir Arion leads her away.
"He would not be able to give you much information miss, he was the only survivor of a River Gate party that must of hit some ghosts. He's still pretty shaky."
At the herbalists, Svetla inquires about healing and other potions. The herbalist woman, Meg responds in a quavery voice:
"There is a call for sleep draughts for those who've returned. A lot of bad sights are seen in those accursed halls. I do a brisk trade in healing potions as well, everyone wants some when they go running that gauntlet."
Meg is the local 'hedge witch' and she does a lot of herbal and magical alchemy. She has never cheated on her taxes she assures Svetla in a most pious tone.
Sitting next to Borondon Ingra recites the poem to him,
"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.
Ingra looks into Borondon's eyes, Seems we need all sorts of protection from the departed, and undead, if I fall Borondon, please take my body from that place. Ingra looks a bit saddened and a bit scared.
Sondergang wends his way back to Horms to find out what information the others have uncovered. He adds his own findings to the mixture.
"We have to beware humanoids on the roads...bloody orcs they breed like rabbits.In addition theres a lot of animals natural and unnatural alike that we need to watch out for including a few flyers. Thankfully the wyrm is not active just now, though how long that will last is anybodies guess."
Sitting next to Borondon Ingra recites the poem to him,
"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.Ingra looks into Borondon's eyes, Seems we need all sorts of protection from the departed, and undead, if I fall Borondon, please take my body from that place. Ingra looks a bit saddened and a bit scared.
Borondon listens to the poem with a pained look on his face.
"Do not fear, Sister" he tells Ingrahild "I will protect you with my life."
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"In addition, there may also be goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears and the occasional gnoll. More dangerous though is the fact that while many of them worship their filthy Orc Gods, there are others that worship Orcus himself. Apparently the worst of these are known as the Blackshoud Orcs, filthy cannibals and defilers who seek and indulge in unclean pleasures with the dead."
He almost spits the last words.
Keirgan:
O##
#X#
###
Divel eventually returns, he listens to whatever information the others pass on.
Then he places a small silvered glass phial on the table. "Party healing."
The elf then goes back to his customary corner and begins to check the fletching and sharpness of each arrow intimately. Occasionally a faint murmur of elvish song escapes his lips as the archer works.
Keirgan looks at the diagram Eldon has passed back to him.
"Hmm, an interesting strategy. I will remember this for our encounters with savages in the future."
He adds a mark to the diagram, passing it back to Eldon.
Eldon:
O#X
#X#
###
The party regroups after their indivdual sojourns. They share their information and prepare themselves for the trip ahead.
Kiergan:
O#X
#X#
O##
Sondergang pulls the party together and tries to organise a strategy for the trip to the Halls.
"Kiergan you probably know more about the wilds than any three off us us put together..We'll be relying on you to pick us a good camp site each night and any tracking you could provide would be helpful.. Divell and Eildon..your our eyes and ears out there I'd like one of you to cover the front and the other the rear of the party..you can swap over at times but arrange that between you. The rest of us should stay fairly close to each other but not so close that a single spell could take all of us"
So heres my suggestion One of the scouts leads followed at 20 feet distance by Myself, Svetla and Merzhan..then 20 feet behind us Borondon,Navorn and Ingrahild. That gives us a good mixture of skills in each triad and if we spread out a little in each it lessens the chance of us all going down at once..the other scout watches our rear 20 feet behind them. Kiergan you can drift up and down the length of the party and keep a weather eye out for anything unusual"
"If Kiergan says stop..we stop, no arguments"
"Has anyone any comments on this plan?"
Borondon nods.
"That sounds like a good plan to me. Ingrahild and I will watch the rear." He smiles at the dwarven barmaid. Borondon then asks Navorn:
"I would like to have a look at the map you have. May I?"
Knowledge (dungeoneering) (1d20+6=12)
Knowledge (engineering) (1d20+4=5)
"Also if the scouts call a halt we stop...we don't want to go blundering into ambushes..has anyone any further suggestions as to how we deal with things on the way there...we can work out a different order for the halls if we need one"
"Elf tail, halfling head."
The elf then points an arrow across the table at the silvered phial of healing. "Last resort. Take it."
Then he carries on working away, eventually one arrow is put aside and the rest returned to the quiver. Then he takes out a whetstone and sharpens the arrowhead.
Sondergang shakes his head as the elf walks away
"Never understand them if I live to a thousand" he mutters as he stows the vial in his waist pouch
"Looks like your point man Eldon...you can show us some of that fabled halfling stealthiness...oh by the way are you any good at word games?"
Svetlan tells the group what she's found out from spending the day gathering information. "I visited a couple places which I felt would be good sources of information while everyone was off doing their own things today.
Taking a sip of water from her goblet, Svetla continues, "Over at The Pikeyard, a place where they train the local militia, I met a dwarven woman, Kordinnmar, a veteran of the Order of the Raven. She told me of the dangers of the Western Pass. The Pass is a rough place. Mostly animal dangers, but lately there has been an upsurge of humanoid activity. The humanoid tribes seem to go in cycles of aggression, likely tied to their high birthrates.
"Next I visited, the Order of Vesta chapter house. Sir Arion, one of the Hearthknights brought me to look in on the sole survivor of a River Gate party that got hit by ghosts. Unfortunately he's still undergoing recovery, we won't get anything useful from him for a while.
"After this, I made my way over to Meg, the local hedge witch. All she was able to give me before she got all uppity was that she does a brisk business in healing & sleep potions."
"Ghosts, eh?" Borondon says, then recites:
"Our brothers' corpses wailed
As they took up their blades
And joined the thronging shades."
"I expect we will be meeting the ghosts of our ancestors."
Navorn comes into the room "Greetings my esteemed companions" He makes his way to a seat "I have learned much my friends and we have maps of a sort it seems'
He removes his yarting from his back the notes start the drift though the room " And now my friends a tale and a warning I will sing to you buried though books and lore hear you know of the haunted halls of Thanrkad!" His voice is clear and mellow as it sings a tune unsung for countless years.
"The haunted halls of Thanrkad '
are lined with a many things
o' traps of old the crafty drawves
lined the hunted halls
to keep away the foolish one's
there traps yet guard there walls
The tunnels of ol' thanrkad
are lined with many things
the dead yet walk the hunted halls
yet adding to there number
what your step ol foolish one
or join there restless slumber
Yet harken back to thanrkad
its tunnels run so deep
to places in the darken lands
were the wicked never sleep
screams of pain are symphony
to the elves that lurk below
what your step of foolish one
and watch how deep you go
In the halls of Thanrkad
it's depths hold many things
glisning armor and shiny rings
or death on scaly wings
for in the darkness Varrakezion waits
terrible wyrm he is
yet he likes oh wordy games
and riddles my let ye live
Now i've told this tale my friends
ohv what lies below
For Thanrkad-kul keeps its gold
and consumes the foolish souls.........."
As the last notes fade Navorn looks to his companions. "As you can see my friends the hall keeps what it can"
Borondon:
The remainder of the evening is spent among the new group swapping stories and drinking Horm's dark ale. Ingra keeps the glasses and plates filled until the evening is over.
After a night of deep slumber, the group awakes at dawn. The Spring sky is lightening and a light breeze chases small clouds across the mountaintops. It will be a good day to begin.
Shouldering the packs and checking each other the company of nine set off. Eldon ranges ahead, his sharp Halfling eyes searching the ground ahead. Divel trails behind, his passive countenance revealing little.
The beginning of the day goes well, the group makes good time. Stoneroot's walls fall behind them as they travel, the town dwindling behind and below them as the climb higher into the Dark Ridge Mountains. The few farms surrounding Stoneroot peter out to grazing paturelands. The group sees the occasional shepherd ferrying his flocks here and there, but little else.
The road through the pass is well worn with the tread of aeons of travellers. This fine Spring day there are few others about: The true caravan season has yet to begin. The first season's caravans had left several days previously. Eldon spies much evidence of their passing, as do the others as they come along.
The day passes without much fanfare, then passes into the darkness of twilight. The group spies a rough circle of stacked stones that has obviously served as a waypoint/campground for many travellers. Stoneroot is far behind them now, and they have made their first step on their journey to the Silent Halls.
In response to Sondergang, Eldon is an avid lover of word games.
"Hell, I'll go first." Eldon is perfectly content with extending his bedtime by a few hours. Anyway, nothing ever happens on the first shift... usually.
Sondergang pulls out a parchment.
"I was working on this while we were still back in town. Ideally we do three watches of three hours...two per watch which gives each off us a full nights sleep every three days.One of the three of us.."he indicates himself, Borondon and Ingra"..."should be part of the middle watch where our darkvision is most useful."
He glances over at Divel..."I know you don't need to sleep as such...but how quickly can you come out of your trance state...how aware are you of things happening around you?"
"This place looks like a sound defensive position and I see no reason why we should camp cold tonight. That will come soon enough"
"Svetla will you stand guard with Eldon for the first watch. I will take the second watch along with Navorn and Divel and Kiergan can take third. Ingra,Borondon and Merzhan you can have the night off"
"No better, no worse."
Divel sleeps for the first hours of full darkness, then he will stay up for the rest of the night and dawn.
Ingra keeps he rbed roll close to Borondon's. She keeps a keen eye open during her watches.
As Keirgan stands watch over his new companions, waiting for dawn, he wrestles with the uncertainty that's been nagging him ever since he first sat down at the table in the inn. That little voice in his head, sitting on his brain like a fire spark on a trouser leg, except that he hasn't been able to shake this off...
Is it a prophecy? A spell? Is it simply a hunch, a bit of nervousness? Certainly understandable, considering their destination...
But it feels like more than that. It feels purposeful. There's something he must do, some path he must take. And he's going the wrong way...
By the time dawn is beginning to touch the sky with pink and gray, Keirgan has made up his mind. His gear quietly stowed, he places a rock on a piece of parchment by Eldon's sleeping form. The quickly scribed note is part farewell, part apology, and as much of an explanation as he could put into words. He just hopes they'll understand...
With a last look back over his shoulder, he hefts his pack and heads off across the countryside.
The evening passes uneventfully. The group awakes to find Kiergan has left during the night. A hastily-scribbled note found under a rock explains that he has had a hunch that he is following the wrong path.
The day starts off overcast and chill. The sunny cool weather has darkened into a gloomy foggy day as the eight remaining companions begin their trek anew. They cook a quick trail breakfast, brew some tea, and then start on their journey again.
The path winds ever higher, the trees growing smaller and more stunted as they climb. Tharkad looms to their left, Hormekk to their right. The two large mountains are wrapped in banners of grey.
Towards noon, the party stumbles upon what looks to have been a battle. Several Orc corpses are scattered about the area, all about three days dead. There is a lot of torn ground and spilled blood about. The stench is horrible
Borondon starts searching the corpses, looking for anything valuable and trying to get an idea of what killed them.
Divel moves off from the rear and starts looting corpses, with one eye looking around for the killers.
The bodies look to have been looted already. The searchers find several broken arrows of Garonan make lodged in their flesh. The swollen and maggotty corpses are dressed in badly-cured leathers, but whatever weapons they carried were stripped off them. Their left ears are missing, testament that someone looking to collect the standing bounty on Orc raiders killed them . The corpses' faces are painted to resemble skulls.
Failure:
Divel vomits over the second corpse he touches. He moves back to the rear of the party afterwards and keeps well away from the dead.
Although the stench is horrible, Borondon has not smelled rotting bodies before.
Sondergang does not soil himself with the dead orcs...the more others kill the fewer the party has to deal with...at least this means there has been little activity on the road in the last three days or so.
"Best we move on..who knows what diseases these filthy things might be carrying"
"Indeed friends let us leave the dead. " Navorn looks over the bloated corpes the smell hits him he feels a sourness gagging at the back of his throat and he moves away from the orcs.
A quick investigation of the area reveals a grave dug on the side of the pass recently. Rocks are piled on top of it, and a butterfly symbol was sketched on a large stone at the top.
There are no banners, but one of the corpses did sport a black patch with two red spots on it on his leather tunic.
The sun's rays begin to lengthen as the day slides towards it's close.
"Hmmm... wait a second, friends. Never leave any rocks unturned." Eldon approaches the bodies, and begins searching the area around, and the bodies for anything that looks of interest.
Eldon searches about, and he spots a gleam in the dirt. There is a silver coin half-buried in the loose soil. Next to it is a silver chain also buried in the dirt. When Eldon pulls on the chain, it reveals itself as a broken necklace with a iron mace pendant with an enameled white skull head looped upon it. The coin is an ancient Tharkadian silver bit