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"We should aid th' lass an' then reassess our position. I ain't sure we can take on ogres an' orcs fer th' next few years in th' name o' Trunau."
"What?" Wren questions inelegantly. "Does that mean you want to press on or move back?"
Wren sticks his pinky in his ear, clearing out wax.
"Explain again?"
Vanderhoff raises his bushy brows and covers a small grin with his hand. "I think Torgan is trying to say we should help Ingrahild. Surely the time taken to help won't be too long. Surely..." Turning to Torgan, he says. "That's what your saying?"
A bit unsure of himself, the dwarf reiterates. "I'd love t' save Trunau, but th' city 'as its problems. Th' orcs hate th' lot o' us an' we can easily move on." he says dourly.
"We can save Umlo an' help th' townsfolk move, but takin' on legions o' orcs seems out o' my expertise."
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Vanderhoff's jaw drops a little, then his whiskers start to visibly vibrate. Setting his feet apart and crossing his arms, he eyes Torgan with disbelief. "Cousin....what...are....you...talking....about?" Not waiting for an answer, Van keeps talking, his voice becoming agitated. "What do mean we can easily move on? What in the Nine Hells are we doing this for, then!? Why did we embark on this...this....mission?"
Shaking his head, he continues. "Of course were going back to help. Are you advocating abandoning the town? Showing cowardice and fleeing?" Sputtering with fury for a few seconds, he finds the words he's looking for. "We are Steelkegs, damn it! We're not going to be cowed by orcs, no matter how many! Your pappy is probably rolling over in his grave, right now!" Is Uncle Korgan dead?
Turning his back to Wren as this is a family matter, Van looks to Jorgan and Kraygan. "You all can turn back if you want, but I'm not and I pray you aren't either. Now, we'll see if we can find her brother. IF, we can find her brother, IF, we can even figure out how. Then we are going back to join the fight, alright?"
Letting out a long sigh, he finishes. "Now lets get a move on. The elf." He nods his head toward Wren, "The elf is starting to give us 'that look' again. I hate that look!"
Feeling a bit of indignation at Vanderhoff's response, Torgan responds. "I care about three things in th' world: my family, me yaks and me town."
"We aren't going t' leave Trunau to th' wolves, but perhaps it would be best if they left fer greener pastures." he reasons. "It ain't my responsibility to cowtow every orc an' giant in the realm, especially when we're in th' orcish land." Torgan reasons.
"As I said, we owe the lass a favor an' finding her brother is th' least we can do. We should start there." he says, clearly reaffirmed by some mysterious power in order to stand up to his cousin.
Before bedding down, Kraygan borrows the ghostlight lantern and makes the trek back through the Vault to rescue Haggis and his reserve supply of ale.
Kraygan takes the first watch, and a few swigs from his keg after his thirsty cousins go to sleep.
In the morning he's up early, despite going to sleep late. As the group discusses the hag, Umlo, and the next step of their mission, he offers most of his opinion in nods and shrugs while chewing on rations.
"Wherever we're goin, I think I need t' see a cleric 'bout this curse. Might do Ingrahild some good too. A healer might be able jog her memory or set it arights. The Knights of Odem ain't too far. And I think we're sorta close to Vigil too."
Van puts a hand on Torgan's shoulder. "I agree with you cousin, and we'll try to help the lass. But we can't just try to evacuate the townsfolk or move the town. Even if we did, don't you think the orcs would follow sooner or later?"
Shaking his head and smiling sagely, or at least what he considers sagely, Van says. "We need to make a stand and stop them orcs here, now. Cousin, I not saying we just take on the horde, that would be suicidal."
Squeezing Torgan's shoulder, Van leans in and takes a conspiratorial tone. "Maybe we should look to cutting the head off the serpent, so to speak, eh? You know orcs are a hot mess of chaos without a strong leader, as likely to kill each other than anything else. So, maybe we figure out who's leading the orcs and kill them. How's that sound? Does that sound like a decent enough plan? One that might not get us killed, but might give Trunau a chance." Van finishes, hoping to convince his cousin(s) of the value of his hastily formulated plan.
Kraygan bobs his head in agreement with Vanderhoff. "We can't abandon Trunau if there's a chance t' end this giant threat. Despite what we found here we still got ourselves a mission. We don't know what the enemy is up to, but the Fort holds the answers."
Sighing loudly, Van closes his eyes and twists his head to the left and right, his neck popping loudly. Walking over to Ingrahild, he wakes her and holds up his empty hands as he searches her face to see if the she-dwarf is in the here and now or somewhere else. "Ingrahild? It's me, Vanderhoff. We're in the druid plane, remember? We're going to try to find your brother now, ok? To get us started, can you tell us everything, anything you remember? The hag said you and Umlo killed her coven, do you remember that? Where did you kill them, in here or outside? What, exactly, happened to Umlo? Have you been in here before? If so, how did you get in?" Van pauses, looking to see if his questions are sinking in and are understood.
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Ingrahild awakens as she rubs her eyes and yawns. Opening her eyes she smiles at Vanderhoff and quickly throws her arms around his neck.
UMLO!
As Vanderhoff begins to explain she gets a confused look on her face. Why are we on a druid plane Umlo? We were just in the woods...
She shakes her head again. Stop messing around Umlo. Our guards are ready to go and it is well past midday. Why did you not wake me sooner? She says waving her hand at Wren and the rest of the dwarves.
Vanderhoff's face falls as he realizes the the she-dwarf has woken up in her own little world. Deciding that maybe playing along might garner some tidbits of information, he says. "Aye, sorry about that. The, er, guards are indeed ready. Remind me, where are we heading?"
At the same time, he wonders if a day of rest has granted him anymore insight into her "condition".
Alas, Van resigns himself to condition of all males in the multiverse, never having any insight into crazy women.....
"Hey Umlo," Kraygan calls to Vanderhoff, "I think yer sis drank too much last night." Turning to Ingrahild, he asks, "What was the name o' that forest again? The one supposed to be haunted by hags?"
Van shoots a glance at his companions. "Anyone ever heard of Nargrym's Tomb?"
"I care about three things in th' world: my family, me yaks and me town."
Jorgan mutters under his breath to his brother, "Yer beer?"
---
After listening to the others fight over the next course of action, Jorgan warily puts his thoughts forward. "What we do after can be determined when that time comes but as I see it this lass has been an awfully good help to us and we owe her some effort in finding her brother. We have to at least try."
---
When Ingrahild wakes and lets spill the name of the destination, it seems clear to Jorgan where they all aught to go. Playing the part of the guard, he nods at Ingrahild and "Umlo" and says, "To Nargrym's Tomb then, m'Lady. Let's be on our way."
Hops lows quietly in agreement and follows along behind Jorgan.
"Uh, yeah. To the Tomb. Er.. North?"
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"We can't abandon Trunau if there's a chance t' end this giant threat. Despite what we found here we still got ourselves a mission. We don't know what the enemy is up to, but the Fort holds the answers."
Wren, surprisingly, finds himself in complete agreement with this statement. He still feigns that he's allowing the dwarves to argue amongst themselves, but this is closest to how he feels. He still wants to die in the line of a noble cause...and this seems the best way to fit that end.
These dwarves will have me dead soon enough, I'm sure. A glorious death.
Alas, Van resigns himself to condition of all males in the multiverse, never having any insight into crazy women.....
You know we were headed to Nargrym's tomb ya fool dwarf.
Wren's ears twitch at the name of 'Nargrym's tomb'.
Know (history) -
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Wren recalls a little bit about Nargrym. He has heard little of a tale of a dwarf called Nargrym Steelhand, a famed Giantslayer. Wren has also heard that his final resting place is somewhere hundreds of miles away hidden in the Mindspan Mountains.
Ingrahild returns, wiping her grimy hands on her dirty clothing as she mutters to herself. As she gets back below she looks about bewildered.
She grabs Kraygan's armor and jerks him close. What did you do with Umlo? Where is Umlo?
Overhearing Ingrahild, Van sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Angradd help me.... Walking over to the woman, he repeats what he said earlier, but even slower, hoping to get a kernel of information, anything.
Ma'am, it's me, Vanderhoff. We're in the druid demiplane, remember? We're going to try to find your brother now, ok? To get us started, can you tell us everything, anything you remember? The hag said you and Umlo killed her coven, do you remember that? Where did you kill them, in here or outside? What, exactly, happened to Umlo? Have you been in here before? If so, how did you get in?"
His eyes wide at the crazed she-dwarf, Kraygan looks to the others helplessly.
"Can we go find someone good with curses now?"
Torgan responds to his brother feeling a bit sheepish as his internal logic does not seem to go over very well with his kin. "I'm passionate about m'beer, but I ain't gonna let you die fer it. Beer can be brewed easily enough. Hard t' replace a brother, cousin o' beloved yak."
When Wren also fails to join his cause, Torgan has the look of betrayal in his eye as the staunchest complainer does not aid his voice to the cause of reason. "E tu, Wren?" he mumbles as he sets off to polish Agrimmosh idly while the rest of the party deals with the daft dwarfette.
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"Hard t' replace a brother, cousin o' beloved yak. E tu, Wren?"
Wren nods agreement.
"Yes, it would be hard to replace me, dwarf. My kind are worth 10 of yours, and I would easily give it where I am bound. And where I could take down 100 orcs with me. I count each of you for 5 each, meaning we could have quite a battle on our hands. Let's get to the Fort, seeing if we can find a cure for Kraygan's whining..."
...like some sort of silence field. That would stop his complaining.
Wren rises and makes ready to leave the Vault, ready to return to the boat to discuss steps with the captain or the wispy druids without.
Torgan sighs at the elf's haughtiness. "Figured we developed a rapport, but it seems yer as cranky as ever." the dwarf says resignedly.
He trudges after the elf, nary a word to anyone.
Jorgan mumbles to himself, "If he's worth 10 then Hops is worth 15. That puny bow..."
Along the way Jorgan uses know direction and his natural penchant for wilderness survival to track their progress so as not to get lost.
As his party begins packing up to leave, Van looks at Ingrahild as if trying to will some rational response from her.
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Ingrahild think as hard as she can. Her eyes squint and suddenly flutter open.
A few weeks ago I wanted to go look for Nargrym's Tomb but Umlo didn't feel like me going alone was a good idea. So Umlo came along to cook for me as he said I would need a decent meal. Umlo is such a good cook. Ingrahild says as she looks to her side. Isn't that right Umlo? The grimy dwarf looks back to Vanderhoff nodding her head.
The group exit's the Vault of Thorns by touching the monolith once again. With a flash, one by one, the party is teleported back to the circle of thorns where the dead marsh giant lays.
With Jorgan's expertise and sense of direction the group makes it back to the deathboat with little trouble and a new companion in tow. Boarding the vessel the crew gives a concerned look to the new arrival as a few hold their nose from the extreme odor coming from the group. Captain Raagtusk stands weakly from a chair near the wheel. It seems that the poison has passed it course.
Glad to see you made it back, but it smells like you were rolling around in yer own s+*@. The Captain says weakly with a smile.
Did you find what you need to finish your voyage up River Esk to the Fort?
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Wren stops short once he sees the deathboat again, wondering why he wanted to come back to it in the first place.
What? I hate this piddlespotting boat. Why are we coming back to it?!
Rolling his eyes, Wren stomps back aboard.
"Yes, we were successful captain...if you count me coming back with more dwarves than I left with a success. Thankfully, this new one is only slightly crazier than the rest," Wren grouses informatively. "We need healing. Is there a place that offers healing or magic around here? Anything?"
The return journey through the marsh serves to illustrate the constant effects of Kraygan's curse. Normally he's got enough sense to make his way in nature, but everything is now a heroic struggle. He's constantly going the wrong way, tripping over every vine, rock, or unseen pebble, and finding every sinkhole, sandpit, or patch of poison ivy. And Haggis fights him every step of the way. When on solid ground rides by clinging to the horn with both hands like a child on their first calf ride, having Jorgan lead the yak by the reigns.
But worst of all, during a break for rations and rest, he fumbles his keg and spills some ale.
He never thought he would be happy to climb back aboard Captain Raagtusk's Deathbarge.
"Is Castle Firrine far?" He asks, looking almost as crazed as Ingrahild.
Vanderhoff nods eagerly as Ingrahild begins making sense, grasping at every sane detail, but soon his features sag as the dwarf lapses back into her miasma of troubled thoughts. Shrugging, he nods to Ingrahild in a brotherly fashion, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. "Yeah, that's right, sis." He whispers. "Come on, we should get a move on."
On the return journey Vanderhoff is quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts. Anyone looking at him sees the dwarf's gaze far off, his hand almost constantly stroking his beard.
Once the party arrives back at the deathbarge, Van lifts a hand in greeting and smiles to the captain and crew. At the captain's comment, Van's grin becomes rueful. "Aye, something like that. Do ye have any soap and do we have time for a quick wash in the river before we're off?" He asks.
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The Captain places a hand on his green chin as he looks into thought. The crew continues to work under the diligent guidance of the First Mate Coxswain as he replies in a gruff voice.
Well, the three closes settlements to here would have to be Trunau, Freedom Town and Castle Firrine,
Trunau is a few days journey behind us and Freedom town is north through the Ghostlight Marsh and is a bit lawless and dangerous if you ask me. Damned devil-worshippers. Castle Firrine might be your best bet as it is just a few hours south of here. It is not large by any means but the Clerics of Iomedae should be able to tend to you just fine.
The Captain bellows an order as one of the half-orc's on the crew rushes over with a bucket of hard handmade soap and hands it to Vanderhoff.
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Vanderhoff gratefully accepts the soap and begins to debark to wash in the river. Stopping, he turns back and says. "I'd say we head to Castle Firrine. Them Iomedans?...Iomedians?...whatever, they're most likely to have someone who can help. Besides, we might be able to leverage a favor after we saved that knight lass down river." He finishes, he cheeks turning a shade of red. Maybe Calrianne Blix might even be there....
"My thoughts anyways." He says with a shrug, then heads to the riverbank, undresses to his loincloth, and gingerly tiptoes into the bracing river water. Picking his way slowly into deeper water, he pauses at the level where he must submerge his nether region. Anyone who happened to be watching would see the dwarf apparently counting to himself before finally plunging bodily under the water. Coming up with a loud, startled whoop, Van shakes his head and proceeds to scrub off the mud, the blood, and the beer, and grime that has accumulated over the weeks. Eventually the dwarf relaxes and begins singing an old dwarven battle song as his finishes bathing.
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Wren nods.
"Set course for Castle Firrine. Make it so, Captain," Wren gestures the captain on after all the dwarves embark.
Wren, for his part, heads directly to the silence of his cabin. He's been around dwarves nearly nonstop for a few days and needs some hours days of solitude to keep himself sane. During this time, he reads, he relaxes, he thinks upon the tasks to come.
How are we going to assault the Fort? What magics might I employ?
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My payment was set to just take you straight to the Fort, but you did save my life and the lives of my crew so this will be a little bit of payment back for all of yer help.
First mate Coxswain begins barking orders all around the ship as the Captain heads the boat around and makes fairly quick time making it back to the juncture in the two rivers within a matter of hours as the vessel is sailing with the river's rapid currents.
At the juncture the Captain once again sets the anchor into the ground as he points slightly south. [b]Castle Firrine be that way. you can't miss it by any means. Looking to the north is the edge of Ghostlight Marsh.
After another hour of walking you see what looks to be more of a fortified mustering station rather than a traditional town off in the distance. A stone palisade surrounds the exterior of the large fortification.
Once the barge puts the party ashore, Van salutes the captain as he disembarks. "Many thanks Cap'n. We shan't be long, I hope."
Once the Castle comes into view, Van makes a point of walking empty handed with his hands easily visible. "Keep your weapons holstered. The way our luck has been going, a warm welcome is the last thing I expect." He says with a sigh. Squinting, he looks for guards on the wall. "Elf, your eyes see anything out of the ordinary?"
While the others rest and bathe, Jorgan decides to partake only in the former and not the latter. He shakes his head in pity at Kraygan's struggles but knows that dwarven pride would refuse any help so he lets the dwarven knight stumble along on his own.
In sight of the caste, Jorgan lets out a low whistle. "Looks like a nice place. So are we knockin' on the door or what?"
Kraygan hadn't taken a good bath since the Battle of Trunau, and shedding his armor unleashes a stink worthy of a brambleblight. Jumping off into the river is almost fatal, as he misjudges the depth and remembers too late that he's still wearing his armor, and is not a good swimmer even without a curse upon him. However, in this case the curse works in the favor of the group, for as he begins to climb back aboard, Kraygan's hand slips and he is forced into a second rinse.
Wren's peace is very short lived when a sopping wet Kraygan barges in on him in the cabin and sets up camp nearby.
"Good spot elf. Nice and far from the water, and safe from all the dangers on deck too. Nearly hanged m'self a moment ago on the riggin, I did."
Muttering curses about curses, Kraygan then proceeds to spend the rest of the short trip downriver noisily scrubbing out marsh and other things from his armor and clothes.
***
Kraygan thanks the Captain for the detour, and promises to compensate him if the delay caused any financial losses. He then departs the ship like it's got the plague.
Back on dry land, and within sight of Castle Firrine, Kraygan's mood improves greatly. Thumping Vanderhoff hard on the back, he laughs. "What're ye worried 'bout! We did them a big service back at the waystation. If yer lucky maybe ye can call on yer girlfriend!"
Without a care in the world, Kraygan rides toward the castle and shouts a greeting.
Van stumbles a step when Kraygan smacks him on the back. Turning to say something, he acidic reply is cut short when Kraygan says a single word...girlfriend. Vandehoff's face turns a deep shade of scarlet as he sputters and begins to deny it.
Failing to realize that responding will likely only goad more jibing, he shakes his head vigorously and declares his ignorance. "Whatya talkin' about, cousin? You know I ain't got no girlfriend. Knights are almost always men, so I'm not even sure what you mean!" Glowering, he kicks a rock, suddenly feeling adolescent.
Trying to change the subject, he moves forward to keep pace with Jorgan. "I suppose we should just take the direct route and head for the gate. Otherwise we might look suspicious."
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Wren politely remembers that he left some arrows below decks. He moves away from Kraygan to find someplace less smelly...instead camping next to the girallon.
* * *
Wren marches stubbornly along with the dwarvesriot, keeping his own council. He legs and body are weary and he wonders how much energy he will have for such things...marching, fighting, more marching...but he trudges on, assured that his end will come soon enough.
At the castle, he stands out of arrow shot, trying to find a rock or tree to crouch behind while he examines the walls
Perception
From his covered spot, Wren's hands go into a deliberate and headshaking facepalm.
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Important question: how much ale did Torgan and Jorgan bring? Does the captain have any stores that Kraygan could have bought?
At Kraygan's bellowing a pair of knights in shiny armor peek over the edge of the wall with crossbows drawn.
WHAT BRINGS YOU TO CASTLE FIRRINE MASTER DWARF?
The knight yells from the battlement.
Vanderhoff quickly steps forward, hoping to beat Kraygan to the introductions. "Well met, master of the castle. We are travelers from Trunau, coming by way of riverbarge. The barge that delivered supplies to your outpost as a matter of fact. We ran into some trouble in the Ghostlight, mainly hags and evil fey. We fought them off and dispatched, but did not come away unscathed. We seek you out in hopes of securing some aid." Van says, trying to stand a little taller.
"AND MAYBE SOME BEER!" Kraygan adds, sounding perhaps like he's secured a new batch of the Captain's flea bite.
"IS LADY BLIX HERE? SHE'LL VOUCH FER US!" Kraygan grins at Vanderhoff.
Seeing his cousins take exact wrong track with the guards, Torgan stands by silently. He hasn't said much since they left the fey realm and has spent some time writing in a book that now hangs from his hip, attached by a steel chain.
His yak stands next to him as he waits for the guards to respond. The beast carries at least the kegs of Steelkeg and a few firkins of experimental ale that he could salvage from the wreck of his brewery.
-Posted with Wayfinder
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The knights spend several minutes talking as one begins to holler below him to someone unseen.
After a few more minutes the large gates begin to creak open and the knights wave you inside the large stone structure.
Inside the gates of Castle Firrine it looks more like a recruiting station for Iomedae as knights and clerics bearing her crest mill about in quiet prayer and cleaning of weapons and armor. Looking across the grounds you see a knight approaching. It is Calrianne Blix. Her short blond hair bounces as she strides towards the group.
She clasps Vanderhoff's arm in a sturdy grasp as she smiles. Glad to see that you all made it out alright. What brings you to the Castle?
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Entering the castle, Vanderhoff peers around the yard taking stock of the situation and trying to assess the knight's ability to help them.
When Calrianne appears out of the crowd Van's eyes widen. When she clasps his arm, he turns a deep shade of scarlet. "Oh...Cal...er...Madam Knight, it is won...um....pleasant to see you again as well."
Clearing his throat loudly, he steals a furtive glance at Kray and prays to every god he knows to not let his cousins say anything stupid or embarrassing. In a brief second of insight he wonders if this is what the elf is always belly aching about.
Clearing his throat again, he tries to adopt a professional demeanor. "We went into the Ghost Swamp. Had a run in with a hag and some evil fey. We think Kraygan has been cursed. We came here in hopes of finding a priest who could remove the curse." He finishes in a rush, fearful his voice might crack.
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Wren keeps his elven trap shut while he looks for a library, a studytorium, or a sanctuary to wait out the discussion, but instead stands by in case he could be of assistance. Usually, he would use this opportunity to put some distance between himself and all others, but feels some obligation to see to Kraygan's aid.
"Yeah."
Torgan sees Vanderhoff greet Calrianne and wonders how the dwarf's human admirer will react to his new best friend and admirer, Ingrahild. He chuckles to himself at this thought.
Torgan will also take some time as Kraygan is getting patched up to survey the castle and see how it is doing in light of the orc attacks.
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Just as Calrianne is about to respond Ingrahild pushes past everyone and squeezes her way in between the knight and Vanderhoff. Ingrahild holds a large stubby finger up in the air at Calrianne.
What are you doing making Umlo blush!. You casting some spell on him to make him stutter? You... you.... witch!
Caliranne gives the little grimy dwarf a queer look as she blushes a bit herself and ignores her, hoping it will just go away as she clears her throat.
I think I might be able to help your... friend. She says as she turns and motions for you to follow.
Outside it looks to have squads of knights in training, some against another opponent and and some of the newer recruits practicing on training dummies and fighting formations.
Calrianne leads you through the grounds to a side entrance in the Castle itself.
As you enter the side door it looks as if she has led you to an infirmary of sorts where several knights lie on cots with varying degrees of injury. A few seem to be missing limbs as to more minor ailments such as burns and cuts.
She introduces you to a cleric that is doing his rounds around the cots checking in on everyone.
This is my friend. he should be able to tend to you.
The young dwarven cleric wipes his hands on a rag and sets it down as he walks over with an outstretched hand.
Welcome. I am Torag. How can I be of assistance.
Though he doesn't say anything in the courtyard, Kraygan's snickers speak volumes as he watches Vanderhoff court Calrianne. When Ingrahild jumps in to defend her "brother" he barks a laugh and rubs a tear from his eye.
"Aww, love." He says to himself as they are led into the infirmary.
Upon introductions to the young dwarf, his beard bristles into a smile, then jumps in surprise.
"Did'ye just say yer name is Torag? Like as in, the Bloody Hammered Father of Creation, Torag? Er.. sorry, I'm cursed, and I ain't quite m'self."
Kraygan shifts his shoulders, feeling Gorum's Thorn there, like eyes on his back.