Pappy wakes up at the talk about Rappan Athuk, ""Now there's a grand daddy of a dungeon. Not for the feint of heart, I tell ya. Lost comrades and me leg to the place. She lies about 80 miles to the east. You can go over land and take 5-7 days to get there or a keel boat in two."
a little affected by the watered down wine (no tolerance) Sorek is feeling good. Upon hearing Pappy chime in about Rappan, Sorek fetches a drink for Pappy and sits down next to him eager to hear his tale one more time.
"Pappy...We're about to head over to Rappan. Any last words of advice before we go?" looking around the room "Everyone..come and sit down by the fire with us. Pappy here has a tale worth listening to. Lomyldyr if ancient ruins is what you are searching for...this should pique your interest....You too Greenskin. A good tale, a good fire, and good (watered down) wine make for a good night."
The goblin nods and touches his forehead at Sorek's order. Maginnis said always do as told. Always. But then he...
Then he walks over behind the others and listening. His second ale is disappearing fast as for some reason, he doesn't feel as paranoid as normal. Mellow and warm all inside.
Pappy stops to stretch out his leg, and begins to absently rub his left thigh. “If ye be wanting to explore that foul dungeon, allow me to offer ye some pieces of advice. There’s no doubt that the most important part of any adventuring party wanting to take on Rappan Athuk is the wizard. Ye need one who is powerful, with plenty of offensive ability. He also needs good magic items; it’s worth a bit of sacrifice by the fighters or the rogues to see a magic-wielder well equipped. A good selection of fire spells would be helpful; they’re always good against the undead and there’s a powerful lot of those waiting there in the dark.
“Now, any group wanting to explore the depths of Rappan Athuk is going to need rope, and lots of it. Ye don’t find easy stairs leading from one area to another; no, it’s down sheer drops and over rocky cliffs – and then of course it’s all to do again in reverse if ye ever want to get out. I know what yer thinking,” Pappy’s voice changes, becoming higher and slightly whiny. “What about that wizard? Can’t he just fly us all down?” He clears his throat and resumes his normal tone. “Well, to be sure he can, if ye want him to use up all his spells and have nothing left to use in a fight when ye get to the bottom. It’s better to use mundane means wherever possible and save the magicks for when ye need them most. We used our rope skills several times in difficult situations. Once we had to climb down a cliff as rats were trying to gnaw our lines!
“Another thing ye need of course is lots of light sources. Torches won’t make it, either, though it might at lets ye keep both hands free! It’s no good trying to climb down that rope I mentioned a bit ago with a torch in hand – that’s a good way to take a long fall. ’Twon’t do to just carry it in yer teeth, either, as the rogue Renfrew once tried. He thought he was so clever, and so much more nimble than the rest of us – until he caught his hair on fire.” Pappy’s speech slows slightly as he reminisces. “We called him Renfrew the Red after that; I don’t think his hair would ever have grown back, even if he had lived.”
Lomyldyr listens intently as the veteran adventurer recounts his experiences, "It is remarkable, Pappy, that you lived to tell the story. Your wisdom is invaluable. Would you be able to draw us a detailed map to Rappan Athuk? May I also ask how specifically you entered the Dungeon of Graves, and ultimately what forced your group to abandon your quest?"
"Pappy I've got a hundred feet of rope in my pack. We're going to need more than that aren't we? How much more should we bring?"
"Got dem elf silk rope too. Best dere be." murmurs the goblin.
looking at the Goblin in surprise. Sorek had originally invited the Goblin over out of politeness as Mojo is the only other customer in the Bristleback at this time and didn't want to exclude him.
Looking at the Goblin not in a mean way but appraising..evaluating the Goblin "YOU want to come with US to Rappan?"
He shrinks from the emphasised words, "Me? sorree, me not sure if'n you don't need me. Forget dat."
Then the goblin readies to go back to his bedroll, crestfallen to himself he counts the planks of wood and notices a splinter which he picks up and snaps in frustration.
EDIT: "I god thief an' betcha scout."
seeing that he may have been a little harsh without meaning to be this watered-down wine has some kick. How does Lars do it?
"Wait wait..sorry this wine has gotten to my head. Did you say that you are a scout? We're actually looking for someone with that type of talent. But first tell me where you're from. I hear there are loads of Goblins down in Rappan. It would be very difficult to trust a scout born and raised there, no matter how talented "
Pappy's voice changes as he looks at Sorek all the sudden becoming dour, "There are foul beasts in the deep that will know you are coming. They will know because they can feel that you have connected to the nether and their attachment to it is very strong indeed!"
concerned at Pappy's change in demeanor "unfortunately it seems that everything will be malevolent once we descend into Rappan. Are there any potential allies within its depths or only foes?"
With a piroutte on the spot at Sorek's kind words, the greenskin fixes him with beady eyes and slowly opens his mouth, like a snake about to strike. "To be shur, I be frum Bards Gate foirst. T'was me master, Maginnis, who bought me frum somewhere fur a pet an' stuff. P'haps I cum frum this plaice but I be not knowin'" Then he scratches at his armpit and wipes the greasy sweat on his own blood splattered cloak.
listening to all the talk about equipment and more equipment, the humanoid finally adds quietly, "p'haps a donkey be god?"
as Pappy sinks further and further into his cups Sorek turns to the rest of the group seated round the fire Looking at Lars, Aggrammar and Myrick..."the four of us needed to find and recruit a scout and an arcanist before descending into Rappan. They've heard Pappy's story and yet still seem willing. That is good enough for me. What say you? Shall we add to our group, these two intrepid souls that fate or the gods have sent our way? If... they are willing to join us." Now turning to Lomyldyr and Mojo
The little goblin nods quickly before anyone can change their mind.
"Might as well. Easier than trekking back to a city. "
Lomyldyr nods his head solemnly, "I set off on this expedition seeking Rappan Athuk. I was prepared to journey there by myself, if necessary. I am grateful for the opportunity to join your team and I'm hopeful that I can provide assistance. I must warn you, my friends, if the stories and legends that I've read are even half correct, the chances of us returning from the dungeon of graves is slim. Never the less, if we do not attempt to defeat the lingering evil that sleeps within Rappan Athuk, who will? The time has come for us to prove our mettle."
"very true Lomyldyr... If not us then who? I say us. But that can wait... For tonight we have new friends to get acquainted with... Tomorrow we can make preparations but tonight we drink..... Lars I think I'll have one of those ales you say is so good. Let's see what all the fuss is about "
Sorek is likely going to have the first hangover of his life tomorrow morning
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Myrick spends time concentrating on the new members.
"The goblin will be loyal, we just need to be careful of when his baser nature is forced to the fore."
The greenskin pretends to not hear the slight from the holy warrior and enjoys that drink with the others. He eventually pulls out his dagger and whetstone to make it even sharper. Like teeth or a needle.
"I be very pleasured t'be goin' with such a bunch of people as you be. What you bin doin' so far at dat dere dungeon? Tis a foine ale Sor. Foine."
Lomyldyr smiles and winks at Mojo.
Genuine shock. No one has ever shared a joke with the goblin. He listens to the old tongue and forces his mouth to open wide and answer in return.
Then dagger gets sharper..
"I to came here by myself seeking to strike out at the evil beneath, but it is clear no single being can survive what lies down there. Together we shall be stronger I look forward to working with all of you."
"Pour me a stout."
"Yes together we are stronger and let's show that strength starting tomorrow morning. Let's head back to the Mouth of Doom in the morning and explore that next level we found"
"The last group came out of there with all sorts of strange diseases. I can only give you the blessings of Arden to protect you on you journey."
ok lot's of diseases. funny Myrick doesn't seem too concerned about that.
Well Bjorn the Cleric doesn't have anything to help with that and antiplague isn't available in this backwater. So we'll just have to take our chances.
We're on our way back to the mouth of doom
The greenskin goes to bed after he finishes whetting his knife finely. Then he is restless and struggles to get comfortable, maybe a sign that goblins do not sleep easy.
Myrick drinks a few nice beverages, just enough to lighten up a bit. He chats warmly with his party members and is genuinely interested in their motivations for coming to the Great Den of Stinking Evil.
After the evening winds down he bids everyone goodnight and takes a peaceful sleep in what might be the last secure bed of his life depending on his god's will.
We follow the map back to the mouth of doom and proceed down the hidden stairs in the room with the strange mosaics
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The goblin leads the way by some fifteen feet, trying to watch for likely ambushes or other surprises. He keeps his bow at the ready just in case.
Lomyldyr will bring up the rear.
Lars will keep near the front, but allow the goblin his leash.
Once the group reaches the right area, the greenskin stops and waits. He sniffs the air a little, expecting directions on how to find this lower level. Never one to rush, there is a tense excitement about him now that the first day of his new life has begun.
If the walls and rooms are small so that a bow is too cumbersome then he swops weapons to something better for close in work. Throat slitting distance as opposed to eye shooting range.
Once we get to the mouth Sorek will join Mojo at the point position to lead the group back to the 2nd level of the Mouth Room 23 and from there we'll go down the hidden stairs to the 3rd level of the Mouth.
Lomyldyr casts mage armor on himself. "What do you expect to find on the third level?"
He readies his wands in his free hand. He casts a light spell on the tip of one of the wands to provide light for the group.
"Not sure what we'll find down there. Bjorn the Cleric warned us of that we may encounter all sorts of strange diseases. However he did not say how the last group of explorers came across all this. So let's be careful."
The goblin flinches at the woman's words and as the serving girl shrieks he jumps down to leave, covering his head in reflex. sweat beads his forehead instantly. But when Agrammar speaks and an agreement is made, the scout jumps back up carefully to make sure it isn't all a dwarven joke. He's had them before.
"Bless you Sir, I not be raidin' or stealin' here. You spit in me eye if'n I be twistin' dis tongue loike der snake. Mojo not tea leaf him scout fer hire." He looks down at the ale unhappily but doesn't say a word, just pulls out two silvers and pockets his gold. He pushes the shiny coins to the woman and guzzles some of the thin ale.
"Fret none" - Aggrammar retorts without skipping a beat - "Ye've got a deal, and I'll spit ye in the eye if ye're just having yer fun with us" - taking another drink from his mug - "An' no need ta be callin' me Sir"
as Pappy sinks further and further into his cups Sorek turns to the rest of the group seated round the fire Looking at Lars, Aggrammar and Myrick..."the four of us needed to find and recruit a scout and an arcanist before descending into Rappan. They've heard Pappy's story and yet still seem willing. That is good enough for me. What say you? Shall we add to our group, these two intrepid souls that fate or the gods have sent our way? If... they are willing to join us." Now turning to Lomyldyr and Mojo
"And why the heck not? They both sound crazy enough ta join us into the worst place ever heard of" - Aggrammar roars in laughter, then turning to Lomyldyr, returning the introduction from before - "Aggrammar's the name"
-----------------
Myrick spends time concentrating on the new members.
"The goblin will be loyal, we just need to be careful of when his baser nature is forced to the fore."
"Straightforward as it gets huh Myrick" - the dwarf just keeps on laughing, harder now - "Well if ya tell us 'the goblin' will be loyal, then that's settled I guess"
Noticing the exchange between Mojo oand Lomyldyr, he does add without stopping his drinking:
"If ye lads have anything ta say to tha man, better just say it and be done with it - settle things here and now - best right away than when we're facing some unnamed damned things undergound" - he shrugs - "Just sayin'
----
"Not sure what we'll find down there. Bjorn the Cleric warned us of that we may encounter all sorts of strange diseases. However he did not say how the last group of explorers came across all this. So let's be careful."
"Ye..." - the dwarf snorts - "Could he have been any more vague than that?"
The greenskin has learnt from bitter experience that an order from a dwarf is pretty important and so makes sure never to call him sir again. Never. He also gives Agrammar a wide berth for now, so that whatever trick or trap he is planning wont work.
Maginnis be nice as pie jess afor him cuff he hard an' laff. He tell us dat dwarves hide much behin' dem beards.
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