"Who you guys?" another odd grubby dwarf asks; "why you kill them trolls?"
Pip waves the dino away, after doing a few flips on its back
'Man, I was pumped to go troll stomping!"
Hnoss is able to heal everybody up to max; "I can't do that again. Not today," she admits.
Another dwarf,....
"You guys gonna eat them behirs? If we're free and whatnot, mind if I start to butchering one? Hey....you guys got any knifes? Can't do this with a pickaxe..."
"So,...you guys want trade?"
"Uh ... yeah, you go ahead and butcher those behirs - unless Altai wants to take some bits?
"What have you got to trade anyway?"
"Nothing here. But....our kingdom nearby.
We modsognirfolk.
We make magic..."
Another dwarf,....
"You guys gonna eat them behirs? If we're free and whatnot, mind if I start to butchering one? Hey....you guys got any knifes? Can't do this with a pickaxe..."
<Stig hands them his knife.>
"Stig. Mackhammar."
They all look at Stig quixotically.
Two of them stare at eachother; one makes a "I don't know" gesture with his hands; he walks up to Stiggy cautiously like a hungry raccoon, and snatches the knife from his hand, backing away quickly.
Another says, "You......Makehammer..." he pronounses the pseudoScots name clumsily, "you not Durinfolk?"
"Gentlemen, as odd as this must sound, we are actually travelers from another world. While we have dwarves there, they are not divided between the modsognir and the durin. However, canny travelers tell stories about the modsognirs crafting prowess, and we would be delighted to accompany you back home and peruse your wares." Altai grins at Gjetost. "I'll buy you a set of platemail. You're due some pay, and the gods know we could all use some extra protection."
"You got that right,.....we're the best!" one of the modsognir chitters.
They start by breaking their chains loose from their legs with pickaxes, then they start carving off behir steaks.
"We got plenty to trade! It's only a tidy step back to the kingdom.
It's deep underground, though. Bring plenty of light, you blindsider tallfolk."
Another;
"They've got a giant,....I don't know...."
another
"meh...their gold spends just as good..."
well, I gotta crash for the night......
you can assume they'll lead you back to their "kingdom;" and the Modsognir folk have a vast reserve of stuff to sell; anything you want is available for standard price;
Also, they'll fork over 10,000 free gold pieces worth per character (Claw doesn't count, he's equipment....Gjetost doesn't count either; they don't much like giants) for saving their chums from thralldom.
Any questions let me know.
Hnoss seems, silent, pensive, apprehensive about the whole dealyo. But she's not saying much.
"Don't cry any gold around the dwarves", Altai mutters to Hnoss as they approach the underground stronghold. "If they see that, they'll keep you down here forever."
She laughs;
"forever's a long time..."
Gjetost acquires a neverending grin, when he finds out he's getting dwarfbilt regalia...
heh heh...
If you got the jink, berk. You can get it done.
If you got the jink, berk. You can get it done.
Yes.
It's a long, tangled trek through the bowels of Asgard through lengthy tunnels to this particular Kingdom of the Modsognir...hours and hours, where the thought that these grubby, filthy little "dwarves" might be leading the party to a dark cranny to be ambushed has enough time to percolate, be dismissed, and repercolate numerous times....
And the party finally enters a large, wide, tall cavern; the walls are a tangle of stairs, walkways, and cavern entrances with stairs and bridges connecting to them in a confusing pattern like the ropes of the Devil's very manowar. The floor of the cavern also is piled with squared, metal habitations, piled on top of eachother like so many titanic toy blocks.
The filth of so many living close together should create quite a stench, and yet it is oddly thankfully sublimated by industrial smog and all manner of chymicular exhalation.
One of the modsognir announces, "welcome, and be at ease.....we're very proud of our elemental atmospheric circulation systems herein...."
Now that he mentions it, it seems that most of the dwarves are possessed of a chronic cough;
"for without it, our Kingdom would be nigh on uninhabitable..."
Elgan coughs at the smog-filled cavern, looking appalled. He smiles politely at the dwarves, although his eyes reveal a horror at the thought of the cavern being worse,...
Elgan coughs at the smog-filled cavern, looking appalled. He smiles politely at the dwarves, although his eyes reveal a horror at the thought of the cavern being worse,...
"Ah cannae believe these ur dwarves. It smells abit middlin' atween a goblin lair an' a kobauld warren."
Yes.
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
“Yeah, and they don’t sound at all like dwarves either,” comments Beldan. “They know words like ‘atmospheric’ and ‘nigh’, and I can understand them.”
"Ah cannae believe these ur dwarves. It smells abit middlin' atween a goblin lair an' a kobauld warren."Elgan coughs at the smog-filled cavern, looking appalled. He smiles politely at the dwarves, although his eyes reveal a horror at the thought of the cavern being worse,...
Three kobold prostitutes hoot at Stiggy, batting (glued on) chartreuse eyelashes at him...
Yes.
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
*sniff*
*cough, sneeze*
um.....I guess they'll give you +3's money for it, with +2 bonus money to boot.
;)
heh heh....philter of love....
Heh heh.....only the dungeonmaster knows.
....elemental atmospheric circulation systems herein....
"Fascinating! How does it work?"
Right on.
Just giving people time to buy stuff.
Altai:
Then a wagon drives by, occluding them from your vision, but when it passes, they're gone.
Pip goes shopping at the fletchers
Pip:
Hnoss is kewl; she cries gold, and so has no need for jink.
huzzah!!!
Naah, it's cool.
The modsognir work fast, let's say.
SHEESH!!!
right on.
"Ah hink Ah'll caa 'er Th' Joocer."
Buddy else buying?