The Major is quite pleased with all of Olias' ideas about a celebration. He arranges for a big festival celebration in the common space in the south of town, with free food and entertainment like juggling and street musicians. He makes sure that Olias gets a timeslot to perform when the festival is at its maximum attendance. He asks you to sing "Blasingdell's Riches" and is quite excited to hear a new song that you have written.
That night Olias puts on a performance for the town of Blasingdell. "Thank you all for coming out. As you all know, my friends and I have just returned from our harrowing journey back up the mountain, where we faced down the dragon that had been plaguing this fine town. We are pleased to announce that the dreaded Crimsonwing is dead!" He waits for applause, then continues, "I wrote a song to celebrate the occasion and to Blasingdell's newfound wealth. That, actually, was the inspiration for the title as well. It's called 'Blasingdell's Riches.' Enjoy!"
Olias performs his new song: Blasingdell's Riches
Olias seeks out the mayor after the performance. "So, Mr. Mayor, what did you think? I bet as word spreads of this ballad, men of all walks of life will be flocking to Blasingdell. I guarantee you'll have no trouble finding able-bodied workers for the mines." He winks but then turns more serious and speaks more softly, "So, I've been thinking about what we of Haven's Guard are owed for our cut of the profits for the mithril mining and forging. Considering that we stuck our necks out twice and discovered the rare gem, not to mention the free advertising I just threw out to the world, on top of the rest of my recruitment campaign throughout this winter, I feel it's only right if we get a majority of the shares. What say you to a 75/25 split?"
(After this night, Olias will spend the winter recruiting for the mines, talking to any newcomers and playing songs to drum up excitement. He'll finalize any deals with Sir Miles, and then make his way to join his friends in Haven's Cross.)
The "library" in the city is a room off Town Hall. Hubert Huckleston, a young man who recently inherited the job from his grandfather, is naive and has much to learn. When Olek finds him, he is amidst a pile of scrolls that the Mayor asked him to re-catalog.
Hubert can direct you to general areas of topics but cannot offer any specific insight for you. Your perusal of the library shows lots of local records and ledgers. Even with daily heckling of Hubert, You don't find anything of note in this library.
Jorlitharr finds Sister Alonsa the Amethyst inside the temple. She is at the front of the temple by a massive, shining black stone, rough and thickly wrinkled; she is carefully lighting a dusky incense into a mithil burner. Her back is to Jorlitharr, and as she hears him approach she says, "By the grace of Dumathoin, we meet again my friend.” She turns to him, a smile gracing her face. “I hear from the songs around town that you have discovered many things under the mountain. By your devoted hand Dumathoin has reigned his blessings upon this town. And I must say, I am happy to see you again here in the temple.” She turns back to the altar and pulls open a small chamber in the pedestal that the black rock sits upon. She removes a small satchel. “You are welcome to visit this temple anytime you’d like." She holds out the satchel and bows to him, giving him another smile.
For everyone:
The Mayor asks for a meeting, and he thanks you all profusely again for your help. He hands out glasses and pours burgundy liquid into them. "To Oleksandre, toasting your bravery and cleverness! To Thravum, toasting your bravery and brawn! To Jorlitharr, toasting your bravery and ingenuity! To Olias, toasting your creativity and talent!” He raises his glass high. “I've had several people come to Town Hall to ask about how they can begin to work on the Mountain. Your recruitment is working, and I hope that Olias continues to write songs and all of you spread the word around the land of our fabulous new wealth."
He drinks deeply, making a satisfied noise then excusing himself. “Please take this barrel from my private stores. What you drink now is a sample of it. Also, to thank you all for your service to this city I will refurbish an apartment for you in our city. We will keep up the property when you aren't around so you will have free lodging at any time of the year you wish. Once our profits roll in next year, we can negotiate more. When you are in the city or off actively recruiting you'll receive a stipend of 10 gold pieces a week. Keep a ledger on your own and submit it to me, and you will earn your gold. Olias, here’s your payment for this week and for that maaaaaaar-velous song." He slides over a felt bag that jingles. “Jorlitharr, Sheriff Dara would like to get as much help from you as you feel you can give. You will receive 10 gold pieces a week for your work with her.”
He drinks again, draining his glass and pouring more. He offers more to you all as well. Happily, he sings, “Now furnaces whistle, The smith forges mithril, and Blasingdell bathes in its riches. Haven's Guard! Haven's Might! Hail to the Heroes of Light! Thank you, heroes of Blasingdell!"
** spoiler omitted **
Jorlitharr takes the Satchel. "I'm...thank you."
he clears his throat, tucking the satchel away.
"Sister, I feel as though this town has been blessed by Dumathoin, I'm sure your devotion is what's brought it upon us. When eradicating the draconic incursion we came across an extensive vein of fine Mithril as well as many ancient Dwarven treasures lost to time. Perhaps this being the greatest treasure."
He takes out the Ancient Book on Dwarven Mining. I felt this may be of particular interest to you. Such insight into the gifts of Dumathoin is something I thought a priestess like yourself...I think you'd be able to keep this knowledge and it could bring you closer to Dumathoin. I've read the book and gleaned what I could but I'm no miner and I'm no blacksmith. I wanted to give you this book for safe keeping
"There are two Dwarven women in this town that I feel will be leading it into it's next generation. The Mayor is a fine man but he lacks vision and commitment. I'm hoping you'd be willing to perform a ritual to cleanse the tunnels of evil magics and purify the soils and stones. There was evil magics and dragon taint...I still.." Jorlitharr brushes the Deep Red ruby embedded in his stone, hot to the touch.
"There's also an artifact that I believe could keep the mining operation safe. At the moment I'm not sure the town is up to the task of maintaining the protection of a valuable mining operation and protecting the town and surrounding farmlands. While the Orcs, the Ogre, the Dragon have all been dispatched..." he's clearly trying to brag and he raises his eyebrows with a smirk.
"What do you say you let me cook you dinner?"
"..While the Orcs, the Ogre, the Dragon have all been dispatched..." he's clearly trying to brag and he raises his eyebrows with a smirk.
"What do you say you let me cook you dinner?"
Sister Alonsa takes the book from Jorlitharr as gently as a mother cradling her newborn. "Oh, praise be to Dumathoin!" She runs her hand over the cover and pulls a loose cloth from her pocket, wrapping the book carefully. She holds it to her chest protectively and looks up at Jorlitharr with eye shining with reverence. "You truly are a wonder. Thank you for this blessing. We Sisters will keep it safe, and it shall be a resource for the days to come. Please wait, I will return shortly."
She exits the main room through a door near the altar, and returns a couple minutes later without the book. She faces the black stone altar and puts her hands together, speaking to Jorlitharr without looking at him.
"I am intrigued by everything you have told me, about the next generation of this town, and I'd like to hear more of your ideas about who can help our local government. Your discovery can certainly help this town, and in order to honor Dumathoin properly we need to keep the mining operation running smoothly and the workers safe. I am also curious what this artifact is that you speak of." She turns to face him, and smiles. "Yes, I would enjoy having a meal cooked by you. Tonight works for me. Meet me here at dusk and we can walk together."
Jorlitharr finds a quiet area with a good view of the moon outside the eastern wall. He moves earth with a wave of his hand and a mumble of words. He fills the pit with sticks and wood and breathes fire embers into the pit starting them ablaze and eventually rakes them until they're a healthy bed of smoldering a glowing coals. Inside He places a heavy lidded iron cooking pot deep into the coal bed and places two potatoes on top of the lid. He slides a wide, flat stone over the top of the pit being sure to not seal the pit completely starving the coals of air.
He smiles with quiet satisfaction and waits for the priestess to arrive.
When she does he greets her and reads her a poem.
"Deep down beneath all things is the blood of Dumathoin. A vast ocean of molten metals and stones. Without Dumathoin gifts the races of the world would not be able to stand against the ancient and evil forces devoted to taking what others would build. Stone walls a bulwark. Steel hammers pound steel armors to protect. Stone wheels sharpen steel blades to draw wicked blood. The races of stone and steel are the shield upon which evil skulls shatter and wicked bones break. Those who have the gods favor will forever remain. "
Jorlitharr closes the ancient book of dwarven poetry.
Durrgadin fouled his halls with evil dragons to protect his treasures. I feel this is what doomed his people in the eyes of the gods and allowed the tide of orcs to overtake all he'd built. We must learn from his mistakes. A resplendent and precious artifact lays broken. A giant dwarf made from mithril once protected those deserving. I believe with your help we can repair its body and breath life back into its eyes and renew its purpose. You carry such favor with Dumathoin and your heart is free of selfishness and greed. You don't seek power or fame, just to serve the God that provides us with such gifts. I think you should be the steward of removing the gift of mithril from the Stone Tooth mountains properly and the preservation of the dwarven halls.
The doors of its vault are equipped with an arcane lock. It's key, four enchanted gems in the possession of my companions and I.
Jorlitharr finally pauses. He pulls aside the stone covering the pit and removes the cooking pot bare handed. After taking the potatoes off the pot and placing them into clay bowls. He removes the lid to reveal a savory pie wrapped in thick pastry crust inside a warm gravy filled with mushrooms, carrots, potatoes and cuts of rabbit.
"A meal made in earth filled with ingredients of the soils to bless Blasingdell's new chapter?"
Sister Alonsa closes her eyes and listens deeply to the poem. As Jorlitharr explains his plans she opens her eyes and gazes towards the mountain range. She gratefully accepts Jorlitharr's homecooked meal of the earth. After tasting it, she speaks for the first time. "Your cooking is exquisite," she says, "and these are all of my favorite foods."
Sister Alonsa eats and thinks for a couple moments. "We indeed must learn from Durgeddin's mistakes. He did not respect the mountain. He did not preserve the natural life of the underground creatures, and he exploited the mountain for his own personal greed. He was punished for his disrespect, and sad as it may have been, it was a warranted ending to his exploitation. And bringing a red dragon into the mountain..." She shakes her head slowly and sadly. "However, your discovery of the veins of ore is a blessing, a gift, a way to honor Dumathoin. And a way for this town to have a breath of life blown into it from honoring the Keeper of Secrets Under the Mountain."
She places her fork down and looks at Jorlitharr right in the eyes. "I am confident that myself and the other Sisters can guide the proper removal the precious mithril ore from the mountain with the utmost reverence to its creator. We shall also work to preserve the mountain. In the morning, I shall speak with the Mayor and make the arrangements."
She leans in, with almost a twinkle in her eye. "Now, a giant broken dwarf, you say? I need to inspect this, and see if it is repairable. It could be the perfect guardian for the mountain."
They talk long into the night, then Sister Alonsa asks Jorlitharr to walk her back to the temple. "I shall look for you tomorrow and keep you informed of the progress I've made with the Mayor. Thank you so much for the meal and for your words." She touches him gently on the cheek and smiles fondly.
Sister Alonsa closes her eyes and listens deeply to the poem. As Jorlitharr explains his plans she opens her eyes and gazes towards the mountain range. She gratefully accepts Jorlitharr's homecooked meal of the earth. After tasting it, she speaks for the first time. "Your cooking is exquisite," she says, "and these are all of my favorite foods."
Sister Alonsa eats and thinks for a couple moments. "We indeed must learn from Durgeddin's mistakes. He did not respect the mountain. He did not preserve the natural life of the underground creatures, and he exploited the mountain for his own personal greed. He was punished for his disrespect, and sad as it may have been, it was a warranted ending to his exploitation. And bringing a red dragon into the mountain..." She shakes her head slowly and sadly. "However, your discovery of the veins of ore is a blessing, a gift, a way to honor Dumathoin. And a way for this town to have a breath of life blown into it from honoring the Keeper of Secrets Under the Mountain."
She places her fork down and looks at Jorlitharr right in the eyes. "I am confident that myself and the other Sisters can guide the proper removal the precious mithril ore from the mountain with the utmost reverence to its creator. We shall also work to preserve the mountain. In the morning, I shall speak with the Mayor and make the arrangements."
She leans in, with almost a twinkle in her eye. "Now, a giant broken dwarf, you say? I need to inspect this, and see if it is repairable. It could be the perfect guardian for the mountain."
They talk long into the night, then Sister Alonsa asks Jorlitharr to walk her back to the temple. "I shall look for you tomorrow and keep you informed of the progress I've made with the Mayor. Thank you so much for the meal and for your words." She touches him gently on the cheek and smiles fondly.
Jorlitharr cracks a wry smile before blushing a bit.
His attention wanders and his eyes grow wide and narrow to serious. "Do you have an Amethyst? I need a big one. A special one."
Sister Alonsa fixes her gaze on the dirt wizard. She sits quietly for a long while, then speaks one word: "Yes."
She stands and walks a bit away from their picnic area, gazing intently at the moon. She turns and faces Jorlitharr, folding her hands within her robes.
"Let me tell you a legend of Dumathoin that we Sisters have passed down for many thousands of years. When wise Dumathoin first created the dwarves, he used his mattock to shatter a mountain to mine raw stone to create his new children. The pieces of the mountain he did not use in crafting his children he saved. For years he shaped and polished these rocks until they each became a unique gemstone: Agate, Onyx, Amethyst, Garnet, Opal, Sapphire and Diamond."
She bows her head. "We use these sacred gemstones to describe our rank within the temple. As I'm sure you know, I am the Amethyst at the temple. As a part of our ritual of initiation we are given a stone that matches our rank."
She reaches further into robe and then withdraws a round, walnut-sized purple gemstone that glistens in the moonlight. "This is my Amethyst. I received it twelve years ago. I have always kept it with me. I polish it everyday to remind myself of Dumathoin's patience and wisdom."
She holds it close to her heart, then walks to Jorlitharr. She kneels down in front of him and holds out her hands, cradling the gem in her hands. "This is the most special Amethyst I have, that I have ever had. You may have it, Jorlitharr. Your heart is kind and your intentions are pure."
Jorlitharr smiles.
"I knew you'd be able to help me. In the most ancient magic, that which is done with runes and gems, the amethyst represents the mind, thought and imagination."
He looks at the amethyst. "It's beautiful. It's just right." He looks back to the priestess.
"I'll give it back soon. In the meantime I'll need you to keep it safe like you always have."
Jorlitharr grows quiet and starts a rumble deep within his chest. It's low and builds in intensity. He reaches down and grabs the stone he keeps chained to his waist and rubs his shards of the heart of Tzchazzar. It glows like a coal. He reaches for the tip of his beard and presses it hard into the glowing ruby. The tip of his beard catches alight and he swiftly blows it out. He rubs his beard across his forehead drawing an ancient rune meaning "Beyond".
He reaches for the gem. "Hold it tight. And don't let it go." He says. Once I'm gone you'll be my only connection to the material plane. My roots.
And with a shout Jorlitharr disappears and the amethyst grows heavy.