just a . for now
The town of Torch has long enjoyed a singular claim to prosperity—a violet flame that burns atop Black Hill in the heart of the town. This flame burns incredibly hot, and while it’s usually the size of a bonfire, several times a year the fires spew up into the heavens in a brilliant beam of purple violence. These eruptions are presaged by about an hour of soft rumbling, giving nearby smiths a chance to retreat before the fires can consume them. At all other times, the violet energies allow for the smelting of all manner of skymetal. Torch is one of the only locations where skymetal can be worked with relative ease outside of Starfall, and its entire economy has risen around these purple flames, with traveling smiths coming from across Avistan to pay for the opportunity to work with them. Of course, Torch needs all the visiting trade and coin it can gather, for while the town’s distance from Starfall makes it inconvenient for the Technic League to maintain a permanent presence here,the taxes and tariffs it charges the Numerian town on a monthly basis are significant. The town prospers, but the bulk of its income does not belong to it. Which is why, when the fires atop the hill suddenly go out, the town is in trouble.
That happened 8 days ago. Later that day, Councilor Khonnir Baine, one of Torch’s more powerful wizards and a well-liked individual, discovered signs of unusual traffic on the banks of Weeping Pond: many, many tracks of humanoids entering the pond, but none exiting. The conclusion was obvious. Something akin to caves or tunnels must connect from the pond to the source of the Torch, and something nefarious somehow figured out how to extinguish it. The town council put a reward of 6,000 gold for anyone who could enter the pond, find their way to the flame, and relight it.
Word spread rapidly through Numeria and beyond; the famed torch of Torch that has burned atop Black Hill for over a century has gone out, leaving a strangely seeping pit of rubble and bubbling fluids where the town’s livelihood once glowed day and night. 6,000 gold! That was a fortune for many a wandering hero. A band of halfling adventurers arrived in Torch and entered the pond; followed day after by a drunken band of town toughs. None of those would-be heroes returned.
Five days ago, Baine himself gathered a small band of resourceful locals and entered the pond. His adopted son, Zeke, begged to go but Baine refused; he was not about to put his son in such danger. He in fact did return shortly thereafter, telling tales of a series of caves and tunnels that existed under the Black Hill, probably since before the town’s founding. He reported of a strange metal wall that bisected the cave… a wall that had no business being in a natural cave. And with him he brought back a strange metal creature. It looked like a humanoid with three legs, but could not move, or talk, or do much of anything. Baine brought the metal creature back to his workshop for further study.
The very next day, Baine and his band returned into the cave, set upon getting past the strange metal wall. But the image of Khonnir Baine disappearing beneath the surface of the pond was the last the town folk saw of their local hero.
A day past, and another travelling band of adventures entered the cave, hoping to return with Baine. They have not returned.
Another day past. The desperate city council put another 6,000 gold reward out; this time for the return of their missing Councilor.
A torch extinguished, heroes missing and presumed dead. Who will be the next foolhardy hero to attempt to save Torch?
Gozreh the 4th, 4714
Two days! Two days, and no word from Dad. And not that it really matters, but any of those other adventurers too. This is bad, very bad. I need help. There are still some adventurers floating around the city; maybe some of them will go down there. Probably they would just die like all the others. And Zeke is ready to simply go down there by himself, which of course would drive Dad crazy if he knew! I gotta find Charles, he and his brood of brothers and sisters can help. I’ll have him find some of the newcomers, those who seem competent, and we’ll send them off. This time, maybe the gods will favor us.
Val Baine does indeed track down one Charles Caskgrip, 19 years old, just like Val. Charles has been a friend for many years, a boy lost in a sea of siblings who does what he can to keep his family fed. Charles always seemed to get along well with Khonnir, for whatever reason. From two different generations, but kindred spirits. They are two people filled with a curiosity and zest for life.
“Charles, you know Dad disappeared in those caves. If no one goes down to help him, I’m sure he will lost to us forever. There are adventurers around, I’m guessing drawn here by the gold rewards, but no one knows each other, and they need some organization! Could you do this, Charles? Maybe get your brothers and sisters to help? Can you find a few likely individuals this afternoon and tell them to meet me in the Foundry Tavern tonight at two hours after dusk? If you can, avoid Zeke. He’s chomping at the bit to do something, but I know that Dad wouldn’t want him along.”
Charles, your job is to track everyone down and convince them to meet with you and Val Baine at the Foundry Tavern two hours after dusk. Please post as much as you need to in order to get the job done! Varrad is not yet in the adventure so don’t worry about finding him.
Zeke, Charles was given specific instruction to exclude you from his group, so if you want to go along, do what you need to do!
Good luck to you all! Don’t die!
By late morning Ton's leg sent a dull ache up into his stomach, doing nothing for his mood. By mid-afternoon when he and his companion made it into Torch, the ache had been replaced by a lancing pain that made him feel like he had broken glass chewing against his hip.
30 miles back along the road they had discussed whether or not to buy a horse. Having pooled their meagre earnings from the last job - a broken down old robot that had been repurposed for farm work but had recently taken to just spinning in circles - they realised a luxury like a horse was far beyond them.
Instead they had walked for days to get to Torch. News that the eponymous flame that gave the town it's name had gone out reaching them through rumours shared in smoky taverns over hard liquor. Ton had done a little digging and found out that most of the town's income came from that flame somehow and that an enormous reward was being offered for anyone who could restore it. Aside from that, someone had dug up an old robot and that worried the Elf. Old technology had a habit of going bad, like food on the turn, so he persuaded Wulf there was a job worth looking into.
"Nice place." he grumbles to the big human beside him. "But my leg hurts like the devil."
He feels the weight of his coin purse and decides there is enough there for a drink or three.
"I'm going to get a drink. Coming?" he asks as he limps toward the Marrymaid Tavern.
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The walk had been long to Torch, but he didn't mind he was used to the harsh weather and long walks. It was Ton that had complained the entire way, he handed been the same since the accident. Wulf would have offered to carry him but he knew how that would have set his friend off.
They didn't get as much gold on their last job as he had hoped, but Ton convinced them a big payout was waiting for them in Touch.
Getting to Torch Wulf looks around his face crumpled as he takes in the town. "That's one way of describing it. It's different I'll say that."
He swallows hard, the dryness of his throat now bothering him as Ton mentions getting a drink. "I could kill for a drink, let's get something and maybe you can put your talents towards finding this job you said would be worth it." He swings his hammer up onto his shoulder and walks beside Ton slowing his pace to keep up with his friend not wanting to rush him.
"...maybe you can put your talents towards finding this job you said would be worth it..."
Ton pinched the bridge of his nose in the way that he did when a headache was closing in. Of course he heard the bitterness in Wulf's voice, but after the walk into town, he didn't feel quite up to an argument.
Instead, he pushed the doors of the Tavern open and went inside, making a beeline for the bar.
Ton's head starts to feel constricted, pushing and pulsating. A headache indeed grabs his brain and starts pounding inside his skull. It is powerful; different from normal.
The Merrymaid Tavern is strangely busy for mid-afternoon; though as Ton'iel and Wulf make their way to the bartender, they take note of the clientele and realize that the crowd perhaps should be completely expected. These are working class people: smiths with broad shoulders and arms, younger apprentices, merchants with nothing to sell, coachmen with nothing to transport. They talk in hushed and nervous whispers. With the torch out, their livelihood is gone and they are there to find hope in the bottom of a bottle.
The bartender is wiping the bar with a dirty rag, as all bartenders do. "More outsiders, looking for the reward money? We are happy to have you here, happy to have your business. What can I get ya to drink?"
"Gin if you have it, whiskey if you don't." the Elf says brusquely as he plants himself on a stool.
He rubs a thumb against his temple, not looking at the bartender but squeezing his eyes shut as the black clouds of a migraine settle heavily in his brain.
His clothes are dusty from the road, his hair greasy and a thin sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead.
Taking a drink without looking what was put in front of him he feels the alcohol burn in his throat. Another swallow finishes the glass and he simply says; "Another. Please." he adds as an afterthought. The drink started to dull the ache in his leg but had done nothing for his head.
"Wait. Reward money you said. Can you tell me more about that? What exactly has been going on?"
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Luckily for Garfaulk, he had a much easier time getting to Torch, having talked his way onto a wagon in exchange for a little atmosphere along the way. Hopping down from the cart gingerly, he grabbed his weapons, which he'd wrapped in dirtied strips of cloth to make them look less ridiculous. With the two barrels over one shoulder, and a set of 3 javelins over the other, they could be easily mistaken for katanas. Our at least, that's what he convinced himself to believe.
"Thanks fer the lift!" He said with a wide grin before wandering through the town for a bit. He sighed, patting his empty coin purse, looking up towards Black Hill, wishing he could get at that Forge one more. Pulling a small bauble from his other pocket, he looked over the 20 sided orb, then towards the general store, before shaking his head. No, he wouldn't be selling it, not today.
Instead he made his way to the Merrymaid Tavern. "Gday sir! He waved to the bartender who he'd seem a few times in the past who was busy serving a human and a shorter fella, before finding a corner. He pulled up a chair, placed his hat down on the table upwards, and fished his instrument from his pack. Settled in, he began to strum a simple tune while singing an old Dwarvish Drinking song, but slowed to match the mood of the patrons.
The bartender slides a gin over to the elf and smiles as he hears the dwarf in the corner start up a song.
"Always nice to have a distraction in here. These people need it. The 6,000 gold reward offered by the town council, of course, is to get the torch up and running again. But now they just tacked on a bit more: another 6,000 for whoever finds our good town Councilor Khonnir Baine, who went missing in his investigations. The Technic League is behind this all, don't you doubt! One of their agents put out the torch so we'll all go broke and they can take over the place for free! That's what everyone is saying, anyway. "
It was hard to think with the fog of pain in his mind and the sudden unwelcome strumming from one corner.
"12,000 gold pieces. That's what they are offering? Wulf did you hear that? he asks his companion.
That strumming got considerably worse as he struck a foul note-he'd been half paying attention to the conversation at the bar when he thought he heard 6gs,but hit a discordant note at 12. Still, he kept playing, picking up the pace to ry to get the place to be a bit more lively, maybe earn a bit of coin to have an excuse to hit the bar and get closer to that conversation
Wulf places his hammer down head first and leans on it as he takes up a shot and downs the drink, not wanting to be left behind as Ton starts them off and then nods for another.
While his drink is being refilled he spots the dwarf right away, keeping an eye on him as he moves to a quiet corner of the room. Another 'outsider' I guess wanting to push in on our work He grew an instant dislike for the singing dwarf.
He liked to listen during conversations. Ton always told him to listen first then hit them if you don't like what they say, he was a lot rougher around the edges than Ton. But he had learned a lot with their time together. He downed another shot the sharpness of it cutting through fog after the long journey.
He grits his teeth at the mention of the Technic League. "I heard." He pauses a moment thinking over what the Technic League would be doing here. "That could set us up for a long time. But what makes you think it's the Technic League?" He turns to the Bartender, now taking more interest in what he has to say.
Garfaulk locked eyes with various people in the tavern, meeting eyes with plenty of folk before realizing the 2 at the bar weren't looking anywhere near him. He grinned-he always loved making friends with people who went interested in being friendly.
He finished up his first bit but it seemed no one had tossed a single copper into the hat. Sighing, he put it back on his head before heading to the bar, sliding into a barstool next to Wulf. He smiled at the bartender "Cryin shayme the Torch is out" he said to the bartender, shaking his head. "Was really lookin forward to settin up shop round here, seemed like a fine town. " His voice had a bit of a growl to it, and his accent was a bit different for a dwarf (think Australian-eaque).
He looked to Wulf, then back down to the hammer on the ground. "That's a mighty nice instrument ya got there. Dwarven made? Looks like our level of craftsmanship"
The bartender laughs. "Isn't everything the Technic League's fault?" He laughs again and sighs. "Who knows? They are a bit of a bogey man, a secret organization with ties to our Black Sovereign and everything else if you listen to rumors. All those tracks by the weeping pool though...It seems like it was a person- or people- that did cause all these troubles."
Nearby, as Garfaulk starts to talk to Wulf, he overhears two dwarf miners in a conversation. "I tell ye, it's true! Little Grindpick, son of the older Grindpick, of course, tried that sludge at top of the hill and grew muscles five times bigger than before! And then his buddy, dim Gruncrack, tried it too and nearly burned a hole in his gut. All true. Dwarf's honor."
The other dwarf snorts in his ale. "Likely story, Orescrag. How many you've had to drink now?"
"Mmhm," Charles nods. "C'n do that." He pauses and looks at the human girl.
"Want to help."
This is PERFRCT! Easy job. Farm it out to the talky ones. And I'm still helping! By night's end I'll be at the Merrymaid having whiskey and having had the family produce top quality adventurers. Wonder if they'd need a cracksman...
Charles went to contact his siblings. They had a routine for these sorts of jobs. Everyone spread out to all the likely adventurer haunts. Sometimes this maneuver was a fleecing plan. This time it was even easier. Pairs, one mouthpiece and a heavy for insurance. Within hours the party would be gathered. Charles volunteered to hit the Merrymaid. Sure, he was a regular, but that's why it made sense. It would be a simple night of whiskey and thinking of the old human while the family assembled a good group.
His night got complicated halfway through the first whiskey.
Two days! Two whole days, and still no word from Mr. Khonnir! thought Zeke, mad with worry. Each morning he had gotten up with the dawn and returned to the cave, looking for signs that someone, anyone, had emerged and could provide more details about what happened. And each night he lurked in the Foundry tavern until closing, hoping to overhear news of the expedition.
Today, Zeke decided he could wait no longer-- it was time to take matters into his own hands! He would go himself into the caves, and discover what happened to those who had gone before him. Certain that Val would try to prevent him from undertaking such a dangerous journey, he avoided Baine's home so that he would not see her and made his way to the other tavern in town, the Merrymaid.
He hadn't realized he was running before he pushed open the heavy wooden door, but as he landed inside he found he was a bit out of breath. He looked around at the faces that had looked up at his sudden entry, and he cried "I've got to go rescue Councillor Baine! He went into the caves three days ago, and he hasn't come out yet. He could be hurt, or trapped, or--" he catches himself and gasps for air. Steeling himself with resolve, he announces "I'm going after him. Will any of you fine folk come with me?"
Conversation in tavern ceases as the young half-elf runs in and yells his proclamation and question.
A burly blacksmith nearby says, "Sit down, Zeke! Three bands of adventurers have gone down there already. It is useless. Sorry, lad, Baine is dead, just like the others. And our town... our town is dead. This is the end."
After the initial hub-bub, the regular tavern patrons return to their drinks, looking more depressed than ever.
Looking around with his familiar wild-eyed optimism, Zeke harangues the blacksmith and others he recognizes. "But... but Mr. Ferris, if the town is so soon to die, what do we have to lose? We must make the most of the days still remaining to us!" He twists his face in stubborn resolve. "I'm going, and when I relight the torch fire and return with Mr. Khonnir, we can talk more about how the end is nigh."
Zeke notices three well-armed and well-equipped strangers at the bar, and approaches them with an enthusiastic smile. "Halloa, friends," he says to Ton'iel, Wulf, and Garfaulk. "You must be in town because of the reward, yeah? I am Zeke, the missing councilor's, well, apprentice, I guess you'd call me. And what are your names?" He seems polite and friendly enough, though something behind his eyes burns with fervor and intensity that is slightly off-putting.
Before Garfaulk got his answer out of Wulf, and before he could ask about what the other dwarves had been drinking, a rather loud half-elf barged into the building, grabbing his attention. "Perhaps I am. Tell ya what lad, buy a couple rounds, maybe I'll hear ya out" He grinned widely "I mean, if ya can afford mah tab. The name's Garfaulk, Garfaulk Sharpstone. Pull up a chair kid"
Zeke looks a bit embarrassed. "I've, er-- I've got no money left, for I've spent the day outfitting myself for the expedition." He considers. "Maybe if we went to the Foundry tavern, I could buy you a few rounds there on credit," he muses. "I don't, er, usually drink here." He looks apologetically at the bartender, hoping he understands. "No offense."
Then Zeke seems to have an idea. "If I can't slake your thirst, perhaps I can whet your appetite, for knowledge if nothing else. You see, Mr. Khonnir told me all about his first journey underground, and I have a good idea of some of things that those who go after him are likely to find. I've even seen one of the incredible artifacts myself! Perhaps you would like to know more, Mr. Sharpstone?"
From the moment Zeke said he had no money, Garfaulk already started to tune him, out, starting to turn back to the pair of dwarves to ask about what that kid had drank, maybe challenging them to a drinking contest, though hearing the phrase 'incredible artifacts brought him back. Perhaps, kid. Sure does sound interestin, though ya might wanna keep summa that to yaself, specially if the Technic League really is responsible for some of the goin ons round here. Dont wanna be the next to disappear"
Things started getting very interesting very quickly.
Ton pulled himself off his stool and stood instead, leaning lazily on the bar, propping himself up with his elbows as he cradled his glass in one hand. He was actually an inch or two taller than his massive human companion, but he was so wiry in comparison and his posture so stooped that he looked anything but.
The dwarf seemed very interested in this job, and the half-elf kid too - though he seemed more personally invested. The thought of 12,000 split between he and Wulf was more intoxicating than the gin he held in his hand. But if what they were saying that several groups had already gone to look into this and not returned, then perhaps they would need more than just the two of them.
"Slow down, alright." he said to the half-elf who had just burst in, something had piqued his interest. "Ton Wexley, this is Wulf." he said casually before quickly moving on to his real point of interest. "Artifacts. What are we talking here?"
The Technic League had screwed he and Wulf over badly, but he was going to keep that little fact to himself.
Wulf turns to call out the Dwarf on his assumptions but is interrupted as a kid bursts into the bar shouting about running off to the rescue someone, he give a look to the dwarf pulling his hammer closer. Things just got a lot more hectic.
He nods at the kid as Ton introduces him. "Wulf Torstein, we're looking for work. But you'll want to answer my friend's questions here first, he will get to the bottom of this." He folds his arms falling back into the role of muscle he's done multiple times when he and Ton were on the job.
The bartender interrupts the barrage of questions coming in at the young half-elf. "Foundry Tavern's all closed up, Zeke. Figured you knew that. Miss Val shut it down since Khonnir's not there to help run things. This is the only watering hole in town." He smirks a little bit, imagining all the extra money in his pocket.
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You've got to be kidding me! Not only is this place filthy with adventurers, Zeke is here! Gods damn it, that's what I kid for trying to do this the easy way.
Charles grunts as he gets off his stool and makes his way to the elf, the human, and the dwarf. "Yeah. Val closed it. Sent me to fetch help for Khonnir." He looks from the adventurers, then to Zeke. "Them. Not you."
Zeke excitedly turned from Garfaulk to Ton to Wulf, glad to see that they were all interested. They looked like folk who could get things done, and had good reasons to do so-- twelve thousand of them, he imagined. He nods respectfully to the bartender, and turns back to the others with an expression that suggests the other tavern being closed isn't a concern of his. "How do you do, Mr. Wexley, Mr. Torstein." he says politely.
When Charles intervenes, Zeke rolls his eyes and smiles at the adventurers. "Val's my sister. Always seems to think she knows what's best." He regards Charles shrewdly with an air of manic intensity. "Hey, Charlie. I'm going to go rescue Mr. Khonnir, and there's nothing Val can do to stop me this time. Maybe you'd like to come along? I've seen you climb and run, you're full aces at sports. Rumor says you're really good at hiding and, er, other sneaky activities too, but maybe the incident I'm thinking of were one of your siblings? Anyways, I'll vouch for you, could certainly use your skills in the caves!"
With zeal he continues, "The missing councilor, the one they are offering a reward for finding-- he went under the hill last week too, and he told me he discovered a thick wall of metal in the cavern where no metal should be. Metal like a wall, not like a vein of ore, mind! And he brought back a-- a device, a construct, shaped like a person, with three legs. Also made of metal. I'm not rightly sure what type of metal it is, but it could be a form of starmetal, like this." He shows them his ring, a plain silver band with a tiny starmetal orb set into it.
Charles gets less and less comfortable the more Zeke speaks. Crazy damn priest! Why can't his god of endings end his rambling? Don't talk about my business!
"Hey, man, be cool."
Then Zeke went ahead and flashed his fancy metal. So shiny! So exotic! "God dang it, human, got no g+&+~# sense? Flashing that damn thing around in a place like this, hungry eyes on the starmetal. Get himself mugged that way. Six thousand gold ...a cut on that string and the family would eat well for quite a while. And if there's any more of that starmetal stuff ...have my own fancy trinkets, I wouldn't flash them around.
"You? Not my call. Val said them," Charles nearly-mumbles, while indicating the dwarf, the elf, and the human. "Additional reward, on top of the six large. She's boss, though. You in?"
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So much for a quiet drink.
Ton had been in town for all of fifteen minutes and already his feet were aching, his leg was playing merry Hell, his head felt like a burst balloon and about a dozen people all seemed to be talking at once about a whole lot of things including the Technic League. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced.
But two things kept cutting through the fog - the robot this Khonnir had retrieved and the enormous amount of money on offer for sorting this all out.
He downed his gin and put both hands up in front of him to the suddenly gathered mass as if to say STOP!
"Right, everyone hold on a second. I've got a g*ddamned headache and this isn't helping one bit. That table is free." He says, pointing. "I suggest we all get a drink and talk this through properly."
Turning to the halfling after drinks are served and they all gather at the table, he says;
This Val the one organising a rescue? And you're name is Charles, right? Ton Wexley, Steadfast Revocations, Wulf and I decommission robots. We just met Garfaullk ourselves." he says nodding to the dwarf before thinking a moment. "Hang on, I've got a card here somewhere..."
He starts digging through his pockets and pulls out a couple of copper pieces, a dog-eared old cigarette, some loose tobacco leaves, a bit of string, a broken ink-pen and then finally a piece of card with one ripped corner with highly stylised script reading Steadfast Revocations in glowing lettering. Clearly an Arcane Mark.
"That construct he brought back, it do anything, say anything?"
Charles nods at his own name, and looks to the card. He files away information internally. Spellcaster. Drinker. Knows the heavy. When Ton asks about the construct he shrugs. "Didn't see it."
Zeke scoffs at the idea of Val organizing the rescue. "She's a nice girl, my sister, but she's crazy with worry. Wants to feel like she's doing something useful for her pa. It's the town council that's offering the rewards. Y'see, up on the mountain there used to be a big violet flame, hotter than anything, and awful useful for smelting and shaping exotic metals." He looks around. "I don't know if any of you have ever done any smithing, but such a fire is a really big deal.
"Anyways, a few weeks ago the fire went out, and the council offered a reward to get it lit again. Mr. Khonnir-- I call him that, his full name's Khonnir Baine-- well he found a way into the tunnels under the mountain, so that's where everyone's going." He sighs. "Now he's gone back in, and others after him, and no one's come out again so the council upped the reward to find out what happened to him. I know he's still alive, though. He's got to be. He's a powerful wizard, he knows all kinds of magic spells. I've seen them, he was teaching me before all this happened."
He considers Ton's question. "Do anything, say anything? Not that I saw. It just sat there like a... like a' effigy, or a statue. But we could see that its joints could move, and it had attachments that looked like they could have been weapons. Mr. Khonnir was going to study it some more." He grins suddenly. "Would you like to see it? It's in his workshop, I'll gladly take you over to examine it. Something tells me you might have some idea of what it is."
I'll gladly take you over to examine it. Something tells me you might have some idea of what it is."
Ton shrugs.
"Probably not." he admits, moving his bow so it doesn't knock into people as they pass by the table. "Water is wet, sky is blue and old robots go bad." he says as though the third were as unequivocal as the previous statements.
He gestures with a jerked thumb to one of the others who had approached them at the bar;
"Garfaulk said he was gonna set up shop around here. He might know more about it?" he asks with a sidelong glance at the Dwarf as if to say; What do you think?
"So the flame went out. Anything else strange happen in the last couple of weeks. Bartender said something about tracks by the Crying Pool." that wasn't quite right but with his head pounding it was hard to think.
Garfaulk chuckled, taking a nice long swig of the drink he finally had his hands on as he sat with the others. Looking over the motley crew they seemed to have gathered, he couldn't help but grin. They all seemed like they could get into quite a bit o trouble together.
He turned to Ton'iel. "What kind of business is robot decommissioning anyway? Sounds like ya go around smashin the hard work of others. Those things ain't cheap ya know." Despite the words he was saying, his time revealed he was more amused at the concept than annoyed with it.
He took another swig of his drink. "And while I'll definitely help get back this Baine fella, I'm more interested in finding out what's up with that wall-maybe it's even tha reason the Torch went out. Gotta set up shop at some point, and that's a lot raider to do when the torch is active. We're gonna go fer the whole 12, right?
He turned to Ton'iel. "What kind of business is robot decommissioning anyway?"
The Elf didn't look up by rather drank his gin and sucks his teeth as the burn runs down his throat, simply replying;
"Necessary business."
He laughed at Zeke "Please. You're not the only one round here to do some smithin" He pulled out the small bauble from his pocket, rolling it onto the table in front of him
"The only thing I know about the Torch going out is that I'd like it back up and running. I only got a chance to use it once to make that beaut right there. Speakin a beauts, before those two hack it to pieces, I would like to check out that bot ya got, see if I can figure out where it came from"
Dwarf's mercenary but curious. Wants to stay. More information. Charles tunes Zeke out entirely. Says too much too loud too publicly. Gonna get him hurt. Charles nearly slaps his own forehead when the dwarf, too, takes out his bauble. He looks around the room furtively, suspicious already. "Maybe not the best place for this. Lots of eyes and ears."
Zeke smiles amiably at the others, enjoying the friendly banter between them. When Ton mentions the tracks, he nods and explains: "Yes, when the fires went out, Mr. Khonnir went immediately to investigate, and he found signs that a great many creatures-- humanoid creatures he said-- had entered Weeping Pond at the edge of the mountain, and had not emerged. He suspected that these creatures were responsible for extinguishing the flame. All of the expeditions have essentially followed those tracks through the water and under the hill."
When Garfaulk pulls out his bauble, Zeke gasps with enthusiasm. "My stars Mr. Sharpstone, that's fine work indeed! Can I look at it? You're clearly a dwarf of many talents! There's some really fine detail on there, a perfect icosohedron if I'm not mistaken?"
The dwarf raised an eyebrow "wait, wuddya mean he went in the pond? Is the entrance to those mountains under water?" He shuddered, thinking of how the water would probably ruin his gear.
He looked from the Halfling to the half elf, before sliding the bauble over "Quick look kid. Then away it goes. Just don't lose it, if ya like yer face the way it is" He said with a grin. The workmanship was impeccable, and it was laced with what almost looked like tiny rivets, as well as inscribed with tiny dwarven runes. "that it is. But more on topic, if those creatures did snuff out the light, I'd like to snuff them out, if ya catch my drift"
Zeke studies the die reverently, trying to resist holding it up to the light to see it better, and breathes a sigh of admiration. Wordlessly he returns it to Garfaulk and straightens as if he has been inspired. "Thank you, Mr. Sharpstone, that is a precious work of art."
Bringing himself back to the main topic, he frowns and nods solemnly. "Yes, it's under water. I don't know how far-- Mr. Khonnir had a magic scroll that let him swim and hold his breath without worry. I bought myself a waterproof bag today to carry my spellbook, and I think it's large enough to fit a few more items if you are concerned about your possessions getting wet."
Wulf scratches at his skin feeling the metal blow send a chill down his spine.
"We do what needs to be done and if that means smashing up robots so be it, not all of them are out there to make your life better." He downs a shot. "This tree legged one could be just as dangerous, I wouldn't go poking about with it less your ready for anything." He taps his hammer.
"The reward is very enticing it sounds like it has to be to get more people down there, we're here for gold a two-way split is a lot better than a five-way split. If your dad is down there we'll find him don't worry." He smiles punching Ton in the arm.
Zeke notices Ton pinching his nose and squinting like he has a headache. He leans closer to the elven archer and says with concern, "Are you all right? You seem to be in some distress. I have some knowledge of medicine if you are willing to let me examine you?"
Charles coughs softly. "Seriously. Should leave here. Private matter."
The patrons all take notice of the 5 odd folks who take a seat together. An elf, half-elf, human, dwarf, and halfing, at the same table? This draws every eye in the place. Charles and Zeke are known folk around town, but the other three are strangers and obviously travelers. It is quite clear to them that another attempt on the caves will soon be made. After a few minutes of conversation between the odd party, the barflies approaches the table now and then to interrupt and offer their own unsolicited advice.
"You didn’t hear it from me, but Garmen Ulreth’s Ropefists have something to do with these problems. How do I know? Well... Ulreth’s got his fingers in pretty much everything bad in town already, so why not our latest troubles?"
and then:
"Wonder what happened to that good-looking woman with the purple hair? Doesn’t anyone else find it strange that she showed up a few days before the torch went out, and that no one’s seen her since?"
Followed by another:
"We’ve always had problems with gremlins around these parts—the pests are always breaking things or running off with supplies. I bet they have a whole nest somewhere in those caves under Black Hill. Maybe they shut down the torch!"
Now it was Charles who pinched his nose. Talking about Ulreth--BY NAME--in the open?!? These people are definitely going to get killed, maybe me too.
It becomes clear Charles is at the end of his patience for conversation. He leans in to the others, talking even more quietly than usual, avoiding the looks of the barflies. "See? Ears and mouths, all hungry. Going to the Foundry. You want in on the string, you come too." Charles gets up to leave.
If Ton doesn't object, Zeke closes his eyes and murmurs a short prayer in a strange, gutteral language, while making a subtle gesture of supplication with his left hand. There is a brief greenish glow in the air over his head, a manifestation of spellcasting. When he opens his eyes he looks deep into Ton's, noting symptoms and injuries.
(ranks/WIS/trained/guidance)
Zeke shakes his head, frustrated at his inability to puzzle out a diagnosis, even with divine assistance. "Mr. Wexley, it seems like you've got the same problem that so many others here in town have, but I can't figure what's wrong. Ever since the torch went out, all sorts of folks have been complaining of these headaches, though they come and go as whimsically as you please. A good night's sleep and you should feel better when you awake."
Charles heads for the door.