To Gaze into the Abyss (Inactive)

Game Master Dreaming Warforged

As far as you can tell, he lives alone. But feel free to ask questions IC.

Dalmien, somewhat timidly, asks Herald:

"Herald, I hope you don't mind me asking but... Us outlanders, we're not really liked down here, are we? Not that I could blame you. I've been through some rough times in my life but what your ancestors were forced to go through.. I don't even want to think about it."

Kord joins Dalmien in the discussion, "Herald, I'm concerned that your people may not be safe down here. If the demons were able to attack Kenabres, they may also be able to attack your people down here. Besides the earthquake, have you seen any suspicious activity?"

Dalmien, somewhat timidly, asks Herald:

"Herald, I hope you don't mind me asking but... Us outlanders, we're not really liked down here, are we? Not that I could blame you. I've been through some rough times in my life but what your ancestors were forced to go through.. I don't even want to think about it."

Herald's face collapses on itself as ihe tries to find the right words: "That's not it. Most Mongrels have never been to the surface. Neathholm is their home. They look at you all similar, like you came out of a mold, without distinguishing features... Others have heard of life on the surface, of Uplanders... I'm not sure I'm clear. They know you're on the same side, but you're... strange?"

Kord joins Dalmien in the discussion, "Herald, I'm concerned that your people may not be safe down here. If the demons were able to attack Kenabres, they may also be able to attack your people down here. Besides the earthquake, have you seen any suspicious activity?"

"We'll be meeting with Sword-Held-High, the leader of our community. He needs to know all he can about what happened in Kenabres. He and our Council will decide what the best course of action is. Neathholm has its own problems, and from what I heard you say when we found the two bodies, they might be related to Kenabres'. Some of us left a while ago, for they disagreed with the way things were run. We call them The Traitors, though I'm not sure why..."

Relieved to hear what Herald has to say, Dalmien smiles broadly.
"That is what it is? Well I'm glad to hear that! Any attention is good attention, I always say! I'm eager to meet this Sword-Held-High. A man bearing such a name can only be a valorous one. "

"It seems like everyone is experiencing something new with us showing up. I can only imagine what must be going on above. What happened to those who left, Herald?"

Sorry for delayed posting. Work got the better of me.

Zoresk merely sits on the floor after stripping off his armor and takes in the conversation, tired from exertions of the day. Chuckling at Herald's reply, Zoresk nods in understanding. I suppose if I lived among so much variety in form, our similarities would be disconcerting as well. Frowning as the topic touches on those who've left the city, Zoresk listens with interest to the reply to Barek's question. "I'll look forward to meeting with your leader. It seems there's plenty enough to talk about."

Herald seems getting more comfortable: "The Traitors, from what is whispered, have built their own community not so far from here. When something goes missing, people blame them for it, though it doesn't mean anything. I'm sure some folks are blaming them for the earthquakes... It is terrible what happened to Kenabres, and Kord is right, Neathholm might be next. Sword-Held-High will know what to do."

Strange food is served, and stranger meads, of terran and mushroomy flavours, spiced with what looks more and more like tiny dried worms...

Despite all this, the warmth and the comfort is a blessing after a day such as yours, and surely tomorrow will bring new challenges...

Ready to proceed? Feel free to ask more questions or discuss among yourselves.

Kord thanks Herald for the food and mead. With a full stomach, he feels almost human again.

"Herald, our people must unite if we are to defeat the world wound. After we meet with your leader, I suspect that we will once again venture out to battle the encroaching evil. We can use all of the help we can get. Would you be willing to join our group?"

Ready to move on.

Ready!

Ready!

Ready.

Eamch enjoys the food, not knowing how long it will be before they surface again and can resupply, or even what awaits them above.

Ready.

Woops. That was supposed to be OOC. :) I blame my phone for the mishap.

Herald looks to Kord: "I will follow Sword-Held-High's leadership, but to be honest, part of me would like to, and part of me is really scared by the prospect!"

The next morning, the smell of eggs wakes you. The sight of a great omelet fills you with pangs of loss, and you want to get on the road fast. You head out through a cold mist that covers the whole village.

Herald leads you to its center, where a slightly larger house lay, but it's quite unremarkable, except for the double doors at its front and the two mongrel guards at attention outside. They seem to be expecting you, and they open them to allow you entrance.

Inside, a long hall is filled like a museum with odds and ends of the First Crusade, set on the walls, tables, and on mannequins. At the end of the hall, two more guards encase a very wide throne set on the floor and not on the usual dais, leaving the occupant at a lower height than standing people. On the throne sits an obese mongrel clad in a beige canvas robe, holding a longsword upright. His skin looks ravaged by pox and he has only a handful of greasy matted hair. One of his eyes has gone white and his little teeth remind you of a rat.

Dalmien takes a deep breath, aware that the upcoming conversation might be crucial in earning the trust of a potentially important ally. He attempts to walk up to Sword-Held-High as confidently as possible, Looking him straight in the eye.

"My name is Dalmien. I must begin by thanking you for your village's kindness and hospitality, I know our kind are sparse around here."

Dalmien will let the others chime in and introduce themseleves at this point.

Diplomacy to make a first impression and avoid staring at the mongrel's grotesque features: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Feeling a twinge of longing for sunlight as he enters the moss-lit cavern, Zoresk follows Herald as he's lead to the center of the village. As he strides through the double doors of the central hut, Zoresk is taken aback by the mongrel seating at the end of the hall. Even the curiousities and historical relics of the first crusade do little to avert his gaze. As Dalmien finishes his introduction, Zoresk manages a shaky bow, "I am... err. I'm Zoresk. Of Silverhall. I thank you, sir, for your welcome and kindness. It has been an honor to stay in Neathholm."

Gotta roleplay the low roll. :)
Diplomacy to make a good first impression and avoid staring: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Kord nods his head to the mayor in respect, "I am Kordica Carraway, Cleric of Gorum. I look forward to working with you and your people to end the blight of the world wound."

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 3

Others please roll and describe your actions.

Eamch tries to make himself small and unobtrusive as they enter. He is clearly distracted by the ratty appearance of the leader and can't stop his expression of disbelieve that Herald reports to him and not the other way around. He mumbles "Good day." Though there is little sincerity in his voice.

Diplomacy 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1

"Greetings. It is a real pleasure to be speaking with the highly regarded leader of this area. I must say, we are all quite pleased to meet you and to be experiencing your hospitality, oh great and wise Sword-Held-High. My name is Barek."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

Barek tries to hide his gawking in flowery words but seems to stare more, the longer he speaks.

Seeing his companion's blatant staring, Dalmien will attempt to bring focus of himself, and the business at hand.

" For lack of better representatives, I suppose we will act as emissaries for Kenabres. It seems both out worlds have been shaken. We're here, able and eager to help so pray tell what it the status quo in Neatholm?"

Sword-Held-High's only clear eyes darts back and forth between the members of the group. Anevia, Aravashnial and Horgus have been left outside and Herald is silently asked to join them, leaving you with the Council.

The mongrel on your right, speaks first. The top of his head resembles a harmless lamb, though the jaw is that of a snarling wolf. He notices the stare, but seems not to care: "Neathholm has suffered, but will prevail. The ties that bind our community are strong. I fear though..." he looks to the other two "...I fear that The Traitors see this as an opportunity to strike at us."

The other mongrel bends forward on his seat. His pink head is like a crown of small horns pointing in random directions, one pointing out of his nose, almost piercing his eye as it twists back inside, and his jaw is grotesquely swollen, making his speech hard to understand: "Indeed! It would be unwise to head out just now. Kenabres needs our help, yes, but danger looms in the dark..."

The immense leader nods at them, pensive, then his eye turns to you as a small tongue dance on his cracked lip.

"Sir, perhaps we can help you. What is the danger that you speak of? If we stand together I am sure we can defeat the traitors that you fear."

Nodding slowly as his listens to the Council's arguments, Zoresk finally manages to avoid gawking at the leaders of the First. I'm calling them the First from now on because calling them mongrels seems weird. :) Focus on the task at hand. They seem to be leading into a suggestion, but we don't have all the information here. As Kord asks his question, Zoresk looks for nervous tics or other signs that the Council wasn't revealing the entire story.

Deciding that equivocating wasn't going to get him anywhere, Zoresk asks, bluntly, "If I'm taking your meaning right, you're worried that the Traitors will strike at Neathholm and your families while you fight in Kenebres. As Kord has said, we can help, but I for one would like to know a little more about these Traitors and the danger they represent. Who are they and why did they leave Neathholm?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 Are they telling us everything?
Diplomacy (aid another?): 1d20 ⇒ 13

Dalmien maintains eye contact with the leaders as they speak. This city is threatened by endless hordes of demons, and they worry about a group of exiles? We must tread carefully here, there could be a lot of prejudice at play. Still, better to play along for now and see if matters can be resolved diplomatically eventually.

"We can definitely be of aid here. These traitors do not know us. They should recieve us with better than predisposition than you. We can go find out if Neathholm is in danger."

The lamb headed councilor nods as you speak: "The Traitors had different feelings about the Council's posture regarding Kenabres. To say the least, our ancestors flight from the surface did not come with the greatest of fondness towards the Uplanders."

The second one chimes in: "To say the least... We would certainly welcome any help to deal with these, and would probably be able to provide help to the city."

Feeling certain of the truth in the Firsts' words, Zoresk nods thoughtfully. So these first don't care for the 'uplanders' at all? That alone seems worth looking into. Who's to know what may have taken root there. Squelching the dark line of thought, Zoresk says, "It seems we have a common purpose then. I think we should go and meet with these Traitors and guarantee Neathholm's safety. If they have aided in Kenabres' downfall..." Zoresk grits his teeth and scowls before continuing, voice flinty, "If they have aided in Kenabres' downfall, then we'll see justice done. If this is done, you will help us to fight the demons invading the city?"

Others?

Kord nods in agreement at Zoresk's words, "Yes, we will deal with these traitors. Where can they be found? Can you provide a guide?"

Kord turns back to the others. "We need to neutralize these traitors and get back to the surface as quickly as possible. I'm concerned about the fate of Kenabres. Time is of the essence - we should leave at once."

" I agree. Let's seek them out. "

"As much as I dislike looking for...whatever is going on above ground, we need to do what we need to do and get up there. Looks like the real Crusades are about to start again."

"How far away is their lair? How many are they? If we do this, we have some among us who will have to stay here, non-combatants and injured."

Sword-Held-High raises his free hand. His voice booms loudly through the hall, vibrant and straight as a razor's edge: "It is settled then! Herald will lead you to The Traitor's lair. Your fight will be our fight, as our fight becomes yours." The two other councillors nod their agreement, looking at you proudly.

"YOU DID WHAT!?!" howls Horgus as you tell them of your deal with the Mongrels, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger.

Until you make it clear that Anevia, Aravashnial and him would stay here...

"If you're not back in twenty-four hours, I'm headed back to the surface! Kenabres needs you, remember?!"

Aravashnial and Anevia are not as concerned, but they pray you make haste and come back soon.

"My friend Irabeth might still be alive... If so, she'll need men like you."

"Yes. Stay alive..."

A few hours later, you depart, led by Herald. He leads you through the dark network of caves and tunnel for two hours, until the tunnel narrows to a width of five feet. You can see that the wall has been chiseled to widen the passage.

Turning to you, he murmurs: [smaller]"At the end of this tunnel they have erected a guard post. We come from time to time to test their defenses. There's usually two of them there, and they shriek at the first sign. Remember the tunnel is straight and they'll see your light from very far. Good luck. I'll be around for when you come back."

Whisipering: " Companions, I think now is the time to speak my mind. I don't think we should trust Sword-Held-High and simply butcher their enemies... I think there might be some blind prejudice at work with, in which case we could be butchering innocents. In any case, there should be a diplomatic solution. As you might have gathered by now, I'm not much use in a fight, but I do have certain.. persuasion talents."

Talking with the NPCs before we leave.

Surprised by the clear, strong voice issuing from the ratlike Sword-Held-High, Zoresk nods respectfully to the man. So we're committed then. Pensive as they make their way out to speak with the others from the surface, Zoresk merely listens as the news is relayed. Snorting in amusement at Horgus' reaction, Zoresk rejoinders, "You'll return to the surface, alone, and attack a horde demons while wounded, also likely alone? All of this while you likely don't know the way out? I wish you the best of luck with that. Use your brain, Horgus, or lacking that, have some faith. If we succeed -which we will- we bring a strong fighting force with us to the surface. That's worth a slight delay, don't you think?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 12

Still smiling in amusement, Zoresk bows to Anevia and Aravashnial, "We will at that. I came to Kenabres to fight for the Crusade, so it would look bad if I missed the biggest fight of them all."

After Herald and Dalmien speak.

Nodding along to Dalmien's whispered suggestion, Zoresk replies in a whisper, "I agree that I'm one to kill without at least trying diplomacy. On the other hand, they're said to hate 'uplanders', which we are. If we're going to try a diplomatic solution, we need to be wary and keep our weapons close at hand. 'Offer your hand in friendship but keep your sword in hand' as they say." Peering ahead into the darkness, Zoresk quietly asks Herald, "How far down the hall is their post, roughly?

So we're in the same hallway as the guard post? It's theoretically some distance straight down the way from here?

"I understand your concern Dalmien, but I'm hesitant to give up the element of surprise. I would prefer that we try to sneak up on them and attempt to subdue them. Once we have them suppressed, we can interrogate them and see if there are any mitigating circumstances."

"If we can indeed sneak past them and subdue them, then I see no harm in the matter.. We'd need to find a way though"

Do we have any estimate of their numbers?

"There's a last bend, about 50 feet from here, then 30 feet or so in straight line before the barricade. They're not so alert, but there's always been at least one or two guards."

"So, sounds like we trust nobody in this whole experience, so lets see if the knock out plan works out for us. That way we can at least get answers."

"That's a fair summary, Barek. I trust the Council in Neathholm to follow through on their word, but hatred can be a curious thing. I want to know the other side of the story before I start killing." Done with his musing, Zoresk focuses on the practical realities of the situation, "A barricade makes things more difficult. Perhaps if a few of us crept up, we could get close enough to hit them before they can shout. I'm pretty quick on my feet, assuming I can leave some of this gear here. Do we want to give the sneaky approach a go or do we have a magical means to knock them out at distance? Also, Herald, I assume there's no way around to the back of the palisade?"

I'm thinking we sneak up and then hit them hard in one turn as best we can.

"If there was another way, you'd be the first to know..." replies Herald a bit sourly.

[DICE = Diplomacy]1d20+9[\DICE]

"And for that, we thank you Herald.

Perhaps some sort of diversion might help? I can perform minor illusion trick, or we may be able to throw a rock and lure them to investigate. "