Tylur looks around as the wave of deja vu passes over him. Turing to the others he starts to count them making sure everyone is here...
Cordwin, with his book safely stored says to the others, Ye want me to go in front and lead the way?
René shrugs. "Sure, if ya want." It probably made more sense for Tylur to enter first, but as long as it wasn't him in the lead, it didn't really matter too much to him.
Shrugging, "If you really want to then by all means."
Tylur places his hand on Cordwin's shoulder,
"Let me look inside first then you can examine anything I might miss." Tylur peers inside his hand already on his spiked chain.
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You've delved deep into the Catacombs of Wrath in search of Tsuto Kaijitsu, and you've encountered much more than you've bargained for - several demonic sinspawn, Koruvus, the maniacal three-armed goblin, and Erylium, devoted quasit who accused you of intruding upon "Mother's" sanctum and immediately attacked. After locating Erylium's tome and prayer book to Lamasthu, you now have but three areas left to investigate in your search: one back towards the room with the zombie pits and to the left, the other two branching off from where you'd seen the red statue carrying the ranseur.
As you're investigating the meditation chamber, a dwarf comes running into the catacombs towards you. He carries not one, not two, but three different weapons!
A stout dwarf in heavy armor, an Indiana Jones hat at a rakish angle, and a half chewed cigar jutting from between his lips comes to a stop. ”We dwarves may be natural sprinters, but only because all dwarf races are followed by copious amounts of beer. Now, honestly, I dinnae kin why exactly I am here, but The Lucky Drunk awoke me from a good stupor and sent me here. I don’t know what fer, but here I be.”
Tylur whips around wondering where and how this dwarf showed up. "If this Lucky Drunk sent you this way and you've stumbled upon us then I am grateful. Maybe your patron whispered in your ear a message that you were to pass on to us. Regardless, you seem like you are meant to be here so what is your name? I am Tylur."
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”Nay, He gave me no message, nor any reason why you would urgently need a brewer, but I have long since stopped wondering at the specifics of the calling. Mayhap there’s a field of barley and hops in yer near future, and ye need a subject matter expert along? Anyways, I be Skarn, of the Hornfel hills. Skarn Hornfels is me.”
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Cordwin, in exploring these catacombs expects almost everything. What he doesn't expect, however, is a fellow dwarf coming his way! Brother Dwarf! By Torag's Firey Furnace! You would be the last thisng I would expect to see down here. I am Cordwin Ironbeard of the Ironbeard clan of dwarves. I can't say it was Torag that sent me here, but I am here nonetheless!
Hornfels? Hornfels? I heard tell of a Hornfel dwarf by the name of Horan Hornfels, but I can't seem to remember what exactly he did to be so well-regarded. Are you kin to him?
"Indeed I have that honor, he is my..." at which point Skarn uses a single dwarven word that succinctly describes the relationship as 'second son of my paternal grandfather's eldest son by his first wife, who was not also my grandmother.' "I recall my father would tell tales of his 'second eldest male nephew by his father's first wife, who was not also his mother', although I never had the pleasure of actually meeting him."
"Mayhap you can give me all of your names, and briefly tell me what do you here, and how a brewer of my ability can be of assistance?"
Staring in confusion at the newest arrival. Thank you Cayden.. I think. Shaking her head very briefly before finding her words, "I am Aurora Warin. You should know there is no beer to be found here only battle and pain."
Skarn nods knowingly, ”a lack of beer you say? Well, that IS an emergency!” He pulls the cigar stub from his mouth and pokes it at Aurora, ”so lass, let’s keep our eyes peeled for some quality grains and a source of pure water, shall we? Now, we know why I be here, but pray, you’ve told me naught of your own purposes.” He rolls the cigar up into a cloth, and tucks it into his pack. He retrieves a similar roll of cloth and pulls out a “new” half chewed cigar, a dry one, admires it, sticks it between his teeth and starts gnawing on it and smiles a contented smile.
Opening her mouth and the closing it. Why am I here? Taking a moment to respond while looking very self-conscious, "I have some healing ability but only a little."
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Skarn laughs a deep belly laugh, ”my opawligies lass. I dinnae mean to ask the existential ‘why are you here’ question. I mean to ask why you’re here, in this chamber? What brings you here?”
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René jumps at the loud clunk, clunk, clunk of approaching footsteps and instinctively hexes the newcomer's ability to hit them. He's ready to continue throwing hexes left and right when it appears the guy isn't one of Tsuto's men, come to murder them all. He puts a hand on his chest, hoping to slow his pounding heart. "Lordy, lordy did you ever give me a fright! I reckon you just gone done scared off a score'a years offa mah life!"
You pretend to get completely drunk the one time and suddenly all the alcoholics come charging at ya. Well, nice that the Lucky one has taken an interest, I guess.
"Well, we could definitely use all the luck we kin get. Even these here four lucky rabbit's feet might not be enough." He pulls a still very much alive rabbit out of his bag, who does not seem to enjoy being put on display like this. "This 'ere's Hadley 'n' I'm René. We're here 'cause there's this fella who got some right mean ideas fer this town, and fer some reason the sheriff needed ta send us insteada 'is own lil' banda guards. Guy's supposed ta be somewhere in this necka th'woods, but we ain't seen hide nor hair of 'im yet."
At this point the rabbit Hadley, who is completely black save for a small white star on his forward, manages to wriggle out of René's grasp in a magnificent display of flailing that manages to also kick the human's arms a few times. Once free, he quickly resumes a more dignified look as René gives him an apologetic, lopsided grin.
René himself is a bit taller than average with a lean build. His tan skin speaks of a lifetime spent playing in the sun just as his somewhat hodgepodge of a wardrobe speaks of a fair amount of travel. His dark hair comes down to his shoulders with the occasional gem or small trinket braided in to it. His otherwise attractive face is marred by a few scars (one of the bridge of his nose, one on his upper left lip, and another through his right eyebrow). He sports a number of rings, bracelets, and necklaces as well as a single earring in his left ear, most of which jangle pleasantly as he walks. He is currently wearing a rather unflattering, beat up, old top hat with two medium-sized holes in it.
Skarn listens and watches Rene’s antics. When Rene is done, Skarn bends to look at the rabbit, Hadley, ”don’t you worry Master Hadley, we’ll have you turned back into your rightful human self in no time.” Skarn winks at Rene as he stands, ”now, as for those years I scared out of you, twenty was it?” He scrunches his nose up as he thinks deeply, finally he looks to Cordwin, ”a hundred and twenty is it? I always forget how that children’s rhyme goes? Is it multiply by six for humans, and five for hobbits?” He shakes the cobwebs out of his head, ”anyways, I oughts not be trying to do Math in public, ‘less it be weighing and measuring for brewing eh? So the Reeve sent you? Do you have badges and a writ and all? How about the alive or dead thing? Are we looking to take prisoners or to bathe our stockings in the blood of our enemies.” Skarn points at Aurora’s feet, ”speaking of which missy, you’ve got a bit of guts, or entrails, or summat stuck to them dainty feet of yers. Be best to fix that before we go back to polite society.”
Sucking in a breath before looking down with a grimace. Kicking the little bit of gore she had apparently failed to avoid treading though. Looking up with a irritated expression, "Alive is preferred."
”Hmmm, yes, well, in my experience, living prisoners eat, and DRINK, far more than dead ones. On the plus side, they are able to carry their own selves out of the dungeon, so no porters and bearers and henchmen needed.”
Tylur does his best to understand the jovial nature of this new face. The dwarf's obsession with drink did not seem appropriate here but just being here was getting more and more foolhardy. What had happened to this just being about the goblins.
'Is this a test? What lesson was I not seeing?'
"Err...we should move on once we are all ready to go. Tsuto is still around andT he has crimes to stand for. Plus we need to act before the goblins attack again."[b]
'That sounded good' he thought to himself.
[b]"Skarn, Cordwin and yourself should takethe lead. I will keep watch behind just in case."
”Who is Tsuto? A former friend turned enemy? What did he do?”
”Hmmm, yes, well, in my experience, living prisoners eat, and DRINK, far more than dead ones. On the plus side, they are able to carry their own selves out of the dungeon, so no porters and bearers and henchmen needed.”
"On th'other hand, the dead don't eat or drink nuthin' and ain't no reason ta be carrying them around. But so long as I don't join them their ranks, I don't much mind one way or t'other."
”Who is Tsuto? A former friend turned enemy? What did he do?”
"Tsuto's that there mean fella I was tellin' yah about. And yah, sooner we git'r'done, sooner we can be leavin'." René then picks up Hadley, removes his top hat, places the rabbit on his head, and replaces the hat, now with two black rabbit's ears sticking out the two holes in the top. He then takes his place towards the back of the group.
Keeping quiet and feeling rather foolish, but considering where she is that has been a constant on Aurora's mind. Waving a hand forward to gesture the men into going while moving over towards René.
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I always forget how that children’s rhyme goes? Is it multiply by six for humans, and five for hobbits?” He shakes the cobwebs out of his head, ”anyways, I oughts not be trying to do Math in public
Aye! That's it!
'To find if a elf can say a dwarven curse,
multiply his age by 7 and watch 'em sing-say it for the worse!
To find if a human can drink dwarven ale,
multiply his age by 6 and watch 'em go pale!
To find if a halfling can work dwarven forges,
multiply his age by 5 and watch all the soot he disgorges!
To find if an orc,
Ah! That's too much work!
Don't take the time,
For those durned orcs shouldn't reach their prime!'
Cordwin sings as he remembers the common dwarven rhyme and takes his place up front.
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Dude! You rock! I make up a random comment about Dwarf culture, and you ran with it!
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After becoming instant best pals with the the Catacombs of Wrath's latest Dwarven visitor, you all head back down past the zombie pits and take a left to a closed door you had previously walked past.
Pushing it open, you reveal what looks to have been, at one point, some kind of study. The crumbling remnants of several chairs and a long table clutter the floor. To the south stand three stone doors, each bearing a strange symbol that resembles a seven-pointed star.
The room looks to have been recently used, a half-full clay mug of ale waits on the ground next to a broken chair. A leather-bound journal rests open next to it.
I always forget how that children’s rhyme goes? Is it multiply by six for humans, and five for hobbits?” He shakes the cobwebs out of his head, ”anyways, I oughts not be trying to do Math in publicAye! That's it!
'To find if a elf can say a dwarven curse,
multiply his age by 7 and watch 'em sing-say it for the worse!To find if a human can drink dwarven ale,
multiply his age by 6 and watch 'em go pale!To find if a halfling can work dwarven forges,
multiply his age by 5 and watch all the soot he disgorges!To find if an orc,
Ah! That's too much work!Don't take the time,
For those durned orcs shouldn't reach their prime!'Cordwin sings as he remembers the common dwarven rhyme and takes his place up front.
Taking a moment to look around the room.
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Aurora recognizes the seven-pointed stars on the three stone doors as Sihedron Runes, stars that symbolized the seven virtues of rule of early Thassilon. The rune is found on many Thassilonian objects, and especially seen in temples of the deceased goddess Lissala, who is depicted to have a Sihedron for a head.
Searching the room, Aurora spies a magical scroll under a broken chair.
René looks at the half-full mug of ale and then, in a quieter than normal speaking voice addresses their newest companion. "'ey, brewmaster-y fella. How old ya reckon that there brew is? If it recent, mebbe the fella drinkin' it heard ya a-clomp-clompin' down the way and ran through wanna them doors with the scribblies on it."
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To check the ale..
"Are you planning on tasting that? It might be..contaminated.."
”A wee bit light for my tastes, but not a bad brew. It is well, By Cayden, that I was here, as this is likely a valuable clue.”
Skarn refers to the “veterans” as to how we go from here.
"These stars go back to the Thessalonian Empire. No clue why they are.." Tilting her head to the side and pulling a chair out of her way.
Mumbling under her breath and then raising her eyebrows. Holding up a scroll, "Last ditch effort that might work. Lots of fire."
"These stars go back to the Thessalonian Empire. No clue why they are.."
Not surprising. We've run into sinspawn and they are pretty ancient! We are dealing with things no one has dealt with in a very long time. Not sure if we should be honored or not. Shall I take a listen at these here doors?
"So which of th' doors ya think he or she bolted down?" René arbitrarily goes up to the first door and listens at it before attempting to check it for traps.
Seeing René listen to one of the doors, Cordwin goes to the other doors and puts his ear to them as well.
Quietly waiting for Cordwin and René to choose a path. Opting to occupy herself with looking over the scroll.
Skarn listens to the conversation, "Ye may, or ye may not, forgive a poor dwarf fer askin'. Just what is dis Tassalonion Empire? I know the Chelaxians had an empire, and the Taldanes, but I aint ne'er heard of no Tassalonians. When you say 'ancient,' I know you humans often call anything more than last year as 'ancient,' or at least 'antique,'so just how old are we talking?"
Skarn mumbles to himself as he chews his cigar.