What here is useful or valuable to me?
Especially if it helps me find more doors to secure.
Krish also rushes into the melee, though his effort is to knock both Greas and Retzack out of the way of the crazed female.
Sensing his desire to protect Greas, the deathclaw also charges in, scooping Greas (and Retzack if he will not let go) up and out of the way.
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Greas's eyes go wide at the sudden aggression. This was unexpected. But he was not in a proper mindset either. Proving all the manoeuvring pointless, he simply walks into the dagger's arc, and guides the blade in without even flinching. And the moment it goes in solidly, he holds it in place. Normally he wouldn't do such a thing, but with the urge for blood holding him, it was the perfect way to clear his head.
As Retzack starts his incessant squawking, he uses his free hand to stab the goblin. He'd wanted to for a while, but now he had some sort of excuse. And it felt better than he could have imagined. "I thought you mature, not a hatchling eager for inclusion. If you jump in before you understand what's happening, you deserve what you get for blindly fuelling the flames."
Greas's attention turns to Sees, who he stares dead in the eye, still not wavering. "My job was to open a door. That is what you told me to do. And I did it. I took responsibility for the actions of a certain tiefling on top of that. But in this instance, I was not told to look after Hegh. You charged me with no such duty. In all odds, he was charged with looking after me. Regardless of such things, it is not the place of any being to blame one over duties they were not assigned."
"Don't get the wrong idea. Let me tell you something. All throughout our time together, I've had to cover for him. He would do something reckless, and then I would clean up his mess. Assassinations. Theft. Blackmail. Poisoning. I did it all and more on his behalf, and he never knew. How could he? He believed himself my protector. A triumphant victor against all odds. Had he known how many of his grand victories I had to set up because he was too reckless to take his own precautions, he probably would have seen things differently. And we would have not had the proud kobold we knew."
"How about an example?"
-----------------------------------------
"Remember when we went out on that 'diplomatic' mission? Secure the loyalties of that band of orcs that got wiped out later? We went out to the village the warband had taken over. We clarify our intentions, and they question why they should even care. Usually, this is the point where bribery and threat came into play, but Hegh instead called out to their champion, and challenged them to single combat."
"He wouldn't have won. They were stronger, faster, and far more brutal than he was at the time. But I am lucky enough that they call a feast, as was their tradition in such cases. The orcish appetite gave me little time, and I needed to specially create a delayed action muscle relaxant, and dose the champion with it. This was not a brief task. And given that so many, Hegh included, were eating the same food, and I had to specifically dose the champion so that they wouldn't be able to trace it later, I couldn't just poison the feast itself. On top of that, there were many eyes on the both of them, and I couldn't just kill the witnesses. With all this, I had to take it further."
"I had to balance my time between goading those two to further competition to increase my time, setting up the circumstances required for said competition, and actually brewing the poison. A poison which was complex enough to require a lot of attention in addition to time. As if things weren't complicated enough."
"The hardest bit of all was making sure the drinking contest was last. Orcs watch their kegs very carefully, and I had to set a few fires to get them out unnoticed. I 'discover' them later, set up the contest, and spike the champion's keg. It wasn't hard to ensure they finished it."
"It was the next day before any of them were actually capable of duelling, let alone watching. All accounted for. I stall just a little longer by staging a theft of the champion's battleaxe. Punching out the 'offender' was unexpected, but it worked to ensure that everything seemed normal. And when the duel finally starts, and the poison did its work? Their proud champion became more sluggish and feeble. Still capable of putting up a show, but no longer a match for Hegh. The orcs were humiliated, Hegh had proved himself, and we had their loyalty."
"I don't presume you know what kind of hell that was. I don't presume you care. All this means to demonstrate was that I went further for Hegh than I ever needed to. I could have just made the champion ill and compelled them to fight despite that. It would have worked all the same. Orcs refuse to admit weakness. But that would not have done the same to bolster his confidence. A fight that seemed close, but where he ultimately overcome his foe in grand fashion? That would make him soar. Even if it was ultimately rigged in his favour from the start. It was a story he told for a long time to come. Now you know what happened when he wasn't watching."
-----------------------------------------------
"That was a while ago, of course. He changed since then, didn't he? To say nothing of his new powers, he grew into the role that was created for him. He became truly strong. He learned just enough sense to become truly fearsome, and left enough behind to be bold instead of cowardly. So when he told us to go, as he and Thunk held off a swarm of humans so we could escape across the rooftops? I trusted him. He told me to trust him, and I did. Oadir took Thunk's place in the end, but I did not believe that would be a problem for him."
"It seems that he did proudly. The rest of us escaped, Oadir stands here now, and he made it far enough for you to know he died. Circumstances were dire, but this time he rose to the challenge. We are all safe because of him. You ought to appreciate just what he did. Were I capable, I'd have done the same. But my hatchbrother was the one for direct conflict, not me. I could not have helped him. He was safer with me gone, this time."
"So what now? Kill me if you like, but that just means another dead. There has been enough of that already. Scoo...Sees. I can't pretend to know what happened in my absence. None of you have cared to fill me in. But just know, as much as he frustrated me, I cared for Hegh deeply. And now he is gone, I will grieve, and await my moment of revenge. I suggest you do the same. Your anger is wasted here.
"I will leave you to your business. Do what you need to in order to calm yourself. Face up to what happened, as denial will only hurt you further. I will speak to Oadir about what happened, and we will work on defensive measures. And we shall stay apart till you can approach without wanting to attack me." He releases the dagger, and steps back, paying no heed to what injury it causes him.
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Scoops drops to her knees, the dagger clattering to the floor. "I am not a leader. I am nothing to this clan. All I can do is goad you to your deaths if I'm not lashing out against you. Assassins, Spirit-talkers, Gadgeteers and- and Bloodguards. I don't deserve to walk among you, let alone lead. I should have died the day I betrayed Gorlaug."
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Retzack doesn't flinch from the thief's blow, accepting it, almost as if in payment for future delivery.
He narrows his eyes as he looks at the thief and the death-talker.
"It seems weakness has been admitted, and forgiveness begged for while on knee. I see this business is concluded."
And then he stares at Greas. Retzack runs a finger along his wound, and licks it, relishing the taste of his own blood drawn in anger. "Even if another is just beginning. Have no doubt, thief. In time you shall understand what flames have been fueled this day."
A betrayer? That was a joke. There was only one here. But that had to wait a moment. Greas returns Retzack's gaze, and watches as he consumes his own blood. It seemed this was formal now. "I await the outcome eagerly. I know not your true intents here, but I may as well give some advice for as long as we must work together. Manage your ambitions, goblin. Let them run rampant, and you will fall with them. Understand that, if nothing else."
That was enough. They weren't worthy of further attention, currently. Greas walked to Sees's side, and crouched beside her.
------------------------------
"I do not know what you believe you've done as a betrayer, but I doubt it's a belief that holds true. It is no betrayal to hide and survive when you cannot be of aid. It is to run away when you could have." He pauses, briefly. During that time, the weight and weariness he had generally hidden becomes more apparent. "Listen. Regardless of whether you are a betrayer or not, that does not mean your death is deserved. You can do far more with your life to make amends than you could with your death. All of us here have our faults. Thunk...is Thunk. Oadir is naive where Hegh was reckless. Retzack is a hungry creator of abominations, perversions of a sacred art. What his appetite is for, I can't claim to know. Smoog can prove obsessive to the point of blindness. Krish is somewhat distant altogether. And I am cowardly, and certainly abrasive, to say nothing of the madness that takes me. It isn't hard to miss."
"Of all this shattered troupe, you are the one that everyone will listen to. I haven't been here long, but it's easy to tell how everyone defers to you, even if they don't seem like it sometimes. You have acted in our best interests as I have seen you, even in your madness. It's impressive that Thunk will follow your direction at all, frankly. He's maddened me for all the time I've known him. You are what has been keeping this dysfunctional group remotely coordinated, no matter what has happened. It might not mean much from me, but that's a sign of leadership if I've seen one. So do not doubt your worth."
--------------------------------
Greas gets back up, and extends his good hand to Sees. "You are needed here as much as any other. So stand among us. Stand, and lead."
Sees presses the flat of her head against Greas' as he spoke, and when he stands, she rises with him. "We need to-" Her whole body shakes with a hiccup. "We need to secure the grounds and rally local defenses. I'd like us to keep this temple, if we can. We won this day by guile and luck, keeping this foothold will take work. Krondor will no doubt descend upon us sooner than we will be prepared. Our choices, if they can be named as such, are to strike before his infernal engine is completed, or see that his supply lines are choked to a trickle. Disrupting this town is a big step towards the latter."
She leaves the dagger on the floor and heads towards the upper floors.
"Understood. Oadir! Fill me in while we collect usable materials. Anything that can be used to construct something useful. Even if it just blocks vision or gets intruders tangled up, it helps." He picks up the dagger and starts salvaging anything they can use for the defences, or to equip anyone Smoog found.
"Personally, I have no idea what really happened, but I'll take you through a summary. After you left we made the stairs impassable through our combined efforts, though I must say Hegh did far more than me.
After this Hegh grew large and told me to hop on his back. We flew through the skies, the peasants looking on with amazement, hiyting guards left and right until we got back to the watchtower. There we were caught by a net, I was about to slash it when Hegh turned it into coin. Peasant ran out into the streets to collect the gold.
I'm not sure when Hegh got injured, but getting back into the sewers, I think the adrenaline rush ended, followed by his collapse. He had some final words for a few of you. I will do my very best to recount them precisely."
Oadir slumps against a wall, shifting the shadow by his side to be the shape of Hegh, painted in the scene. Oadir is sat next to a slumped down, winged Kobold. Looking at it now, it's almost like being there at the time, the only difference being Oadir mouthing along as Hegh speaks.
Through all the conflict raging between the kobolds, Tanard the Red can do but smile. Having abandoned Sees-Death's shoulder perch in favor of a nearby, unused, torch sconce, the dragon's eyes move swiftly back and forth between the different kobolds.
As Sees-Death turns to go upstairs, leading them away, the young dragonet looks down at Thunk, who has approached her for approval. The dragon stares at the red-scaled kobold below her for a few moments, until the barbarian hesitantly raises his head. Their eyes meet, and for a fleeting moment, Thunk feels the presence of the dragon within his mind. Warmth, indulgent and smooth, trickles through his mind like warm water flowing over stones - the dragon's amusement. The barbarian feels himself smiling without realizing it. A moment later, the feeling dissipates, and the dragon moves to follow Sees upstairs.
The kobolds move quickly, knowing the quiet of the temple will be shattered sooner rather than later.
Smoog leads the team that stays downstairs, including Oadir and Greas, gather up supplies for a blockade. With the aid of magic and technology, it's a matter of moments before a large pile of chairs and broken tables are piled up as a barricade against the main entrance, jammed tightly into the entryway by the tiefling. Besides the windows - too high up for a climber to reach unaided - the only other entrance into the Temple of Time is from the kitchens, where staff would enter without fear of disturbing the monks or guests.
In the kitchens, Smoog finds a curious tool - a wooden spoon that looks completely ordinary aside from the fact that it's sitting by itself without anything else near it. When he picks it up to move it aside, he realizes that the cookpot that lies on the counter nearby moves slightly when he moves the spoon. Upon a few moments' inspection, the kobold discovers that the Wooden Spoon has a weak Authority spell cast upon it, which allows the wielder to move objects around this kitchen without physically contacting them. It's like localized telekinesis.
Upstairs, Sees, you and the kobolds/tiefling following you reach the top of the stairs to find a beautiful chapel dedicated to the humans' God of Civilization and Legal Civil Unions, Abadar. A statue wearing a robe made of stone that hangs from his upstretched arms stands at the far end of the chapel, before a massive pipe organ. On either side of the pipe organ are large, wooden double doors with metallic studs riveted to them for stability. On your end of the chapel, closer to the stairs leading down, the entire wall from about 5 feet off the ground upward is one big stained-glass window, depicting the formation of Estr by human and dwarf pioneers. There's detritus and loose items scattered around the chapel along its many rows of pews; clearly, the guests never had the chance to clean up after the wedding ceremony.
After securing the first floor of the Temple from external intrusion,
Smoog rallies the slaves and staff that have drifted back to inquire about the new Temple owners.
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"We are intent on an insurrection.
You and the former slaves of ESTR are free!
We need to spread the word thru ESTR that any who wish can join us here.
Lord Krondor is enslaving kobolds to make a monstrous Dragon-killing machine and we need to stop him.
When he hears that ESTR has fallen he will surely send forces to retake it.
We need to do what we can before that happens.
We plan on taking over or razing this city and looting it.
Help us spread the word and rally more to our cause.'
-
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+1 if you make it known that your pay is generous (maybe)
+1 if you make it known what you’re setting out to do (YES)
+1 if you make it known that they’ll get a share of whatever you find (YES)
+1 if you have a useful reputation around these parts (YES)
" By the way, on our way into town we saw the airstrip and the flying machines north of ESTR.
Such a machine would be very useful to us.
I recall a fair amount about these Cloudsailors but do any of you have more information to add?"
Thunk looks at the stained glass window.
He looks at the pulpit.
He looks at the window.
The pulpit
The window
Pulpit
Window
THUNK THUMMMPPPPP!!!
STR Thunk lift the pulpit and launches it through the stained glass window, his appetite for destruction momentarily sated.
Sees stands in the wedding hall, staring up at unity personified, lit by community in evidence, and her self-loathing deepens. What was a God if there were individuals of His faith fighting over the best path to please Him? What good was a God in flesh, if He was mortal? How much of her perception of the world had been wrong from the start?
These races were so soft, such idealists. A God to rule over the fidelity of two persons to each other. The book on the lectern is opened to vows that read to her untrained eyes like an oath of servitude. "Parted... by death." Even idealists know when to end their slavery.
"I'm still alive. It's everything I ever wanted. If I still thought you had any power here, I'd blame you for how empty it's all become. I didn't think you would die. That never even crossed my mind. I can't even wish to take it back. It was part of my nature... to prove I need something by cutting it away. I'm needed now, on this quest of yours. -By people I betray in thought and action at every turn. Do people change? Do you think? I know you never changed, but you lived like you were born to your life purpose-made. I don't have that luxury. I have never fit my purpose, even when I changed it. Should I change my purpose again, abandon this foolish quest, or should I change my nature? Can I change my nature?"
Sees thinks this talk is private, but she's not being careful.
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I've only recited these to Greas for now.
Tell Shieldbearer to stay by Sees-Death's side. She will need him. Tanard will need him. If you can, tell Smoog that he should not be afraid to lead. And tell Sees that I am sorry I failed her.
Hegh's voice weakens to a whisper. Remind Greas to keep his rage focused on Gorlaug's killers. Petty squabbles will be the end of this. And Oadir, I misjudged you.
The tiefling has to lean in close to hear the last line. Hegh spits blood onto the tiefling's arm, and the blood burns as it is absorbed into his skin. Welcome to the Bloodguard. Hegh's eyes close for the last time.
Greas stays silent in Oadir's recounting of Hegh's final moments. His abilities granted an extra layer to the telling. Were the situation not as it was, it may have been nice to explore that. Perhaps they still could. The group could do with a boost in morale.
He waits a moment after it stops. Then, he chuckles to himself. "Strange how relevant these words would be later. Equally, some of them could have better gone to another." He paces over to the barricade, checking for any serious flaws in the pileup. "Perhaps some of these messages ought to wait. Now will not be the best time to tell Smoog or Sees what Hegh had to say there. Another time. Smoog better befits a role as tactician anyway - he doesn't have quite the way with people he'd need as leader yet. Then again, perhaps a joint leadership? One to pick up where the other falters?"
He shakes his head clear of his musings. "I should wait before I come out with such things. I have yet to see the group in its full spectrum." He walks back up to Oadir. "I can say one thing, though. If Hegh saw fit to make you one of the Bloodguard, then you should be proud. It is not an honour most earn. And it says much of how he saw you." Greas realises he's been smiling this whole time. It's tempting to hide it away, but...there are some appearances it's not worth making permanent. "Congratulations, Oadir. If you had any such doubts before, cast them aside. You are an equal and a partner to the rest of us. It would be unfair to you and Hegh to say otherwise."
Krish assists in barricading the door, then he sits down with the bottle from the druid and the mask from the slavers tent, intending to ferret out some sort of information about them.
Krish, something special happens as you connect to the spirit world all around you. The strange mask that you wear acts as a draw on the wandering spirits from above that are fleeing the hunger of the Deathclaw.
You find your thoughts to be lingering on the Deathclaw above, on its scaly body, outwardly so similar to kobolds and dragons themselves. You feel a strange sense of kinship to the beast.
To the last ghost, the spirits that you call upon are angered, Krish. The Deathclaw has already claimed so many souls that will never find a happy afterlife; a soul that is devoured by a Deathclaw before it can pass on is faced with utter oblivion. The spirits from above call upon you for revenge against this creature.
Roll Defy Danger: Wisdom as your mask begins to glow faintly during your ritual. The results of your roll will determine the shape of the totem you're carving out of bone.
Sees winces as the crashing glass foils her contemplation.
Seeing Thunk and the eficiently desecrated temple, she sighs and begins piling her gold on the altar in a nest-like shape for Tanard. Looking around, she takes mental note of where she could hang banners sewn from the dwarven supplies and wedding decor.
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Down on the lower level:
Smoog is grateful to discover that the Time Temple is built like a fortress, with considerations for defense made in numerous places within the architecture. It takes him no time at all to secure the ground floor of the temple and go looking for slaves.
Most of the staff here were undead thralls, but there was a kobold and a goblin working in the kitchens. The kobold cook’s name is Soup-Spoon and the goblin’s name is Ordo. You find them huddled in hiding spaces in the kitchen and recruit them to your side. The kobold glimpsed Tanard and is very easy to convince to join your team, but the goblin requires more convincing. ”What’s in it for me?” he asks, with goblin impudence.
Once one or both of them agree to be dispatched via sewer to begin spreading the word among the slaves, Smoog turns his thoughts to the airships, asking them what they know of the Cloudsailors. Soup-Spoon is quick to answer. ”Our, uh…late boss, the chef over there…” he points to the pile of gore that is all that remains of the necromancer chef, ”he used to take us up onto one of those airships for catering duty. There’s a main gangplank that the sailors take to get onto their ships, but there’s also a servant hatch on the bottom of the hull that we used! And I still have the key to the lock.” he immediately fishes it out of his cooking smock and hands it over to you with a grin. ”I hope you take one of their ships and toss them overboard in mid-flight! They’re lousy tippers.”
At the end of the sentence, there’s the distant sound of ”Thuuunk!” coming from upstairs, followed by a colossal CRASHING sound.
This interrupts the tail end of Greas and Oadir’s conversation, after Greas is telling Oadir that he’s one of the kobolds now. Greas also brings up the question of leadership – a wise concern. As the group grows bigger, and more slaves free themselves to make pilgrimage to the Time Temple, a Chieftain will need to be selected as official leader of the kobolds. Without Flung, who died not long after Moontower Mountain blew up, there are no “perfect” candidates for chieftain remaining. All options have their upsides and downsides, but the matter will need to be decided soon.
Not far away, Retzack is dressing up his recently-resurrected bride and groom, and answering a hail of questions about the magic of necromancy from Eats-Bugs.
Closer to the front entrance of the dining hall, Krish is studying the contents of the phial he found, holding it up close to his mask’s eyehole to study it. Nothing visually indicates its harmfulness, so he risks popping the cork and taking a sniff. Hints of vanilla…rosehip…with the faintest trace of belladonna. The smell is unmistakeable. You’ve found an extremely powerful magical aphrodisiac, that acts nearly instantly upon its user when consumed.
Meanwhile, you’ve been wearing the mask long enough…and interacted with enough spirits while wearing it…to come to a greater understanding of the thing. The mask waits for a quiet moment when you are away from the others, tending to the tame Deathclaw. The mask glows faintly, as it did before, and murmurs…directly into your mind, Krish. Put me on the Spirit Eater… it whispers. The Deathclaw is busying itself at the moment with the idle sharpening of its claws on a femur bone ripped from a human corpse.
Upstairs, Sees-Death had just been finishing her pained soliloquy when Thunk interrupts with a usual bout of his ultra-violence. From outside the temple can be heard screams and cries of dismay as the beautiful stained-glass window is shattered. Tanard rears up to her fullest height from within the gold-nest to peer over Sees-Death’s shoulder in keen interest. Sees, for a visual aid on the chapel section of the Time Temple, check this out, + more pews for seating.
With a wicked giggle, Krish tucks the potion away. He then stands up and crosses to the Spirit-Eater and, as it is hunched over scraping at the femur, slips the mask on over its face. I hope this does not backfire...
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By the way Sees I never replied to your Bardic Knowledge roll. You are aware that the Time Temple here in Estr contains a large library contextually for the area...you could probably find a ledger of languages in there that could help you decode the bound book. It's probably behind those doors on either side of the massive pipe organ that you noticed before.
Krish, the mask opens a spiritual link between the souls of you and the Deathclaw. You may telepathically speak to it and it will understand you, including your orders. Its stats are
18 Str
16 Dex
15 Con
4 Int
10 Wis
0 Cha
33/33 HP, 2 Armor
and you may take control of the Deathclaw directly, leaving your unconscious body behind, once per day for 1d4 minutes (roll when you take control) before being forced to return to your body.
The benefits of the mask are immense, but they come with a drawback. Pain that the deathclaw suffers, you feel also; and wounds that the Deathclaw take are reflected on your kobold body. Keep in mind that it has more HP than you, and it can keep going even if your kobold body expires.
"Well, Ordo is it?
I think you will agree that your circumstances have greatly improved since our arrival.
That in and of itself should convince you toward the prudence of collaborating with us.
Also please note that we already have a goblin in our ranks and he is quite successfully plying his trade with us.
Here is my offer; work for us and you will be fed well from our stores and can take any one unclaimed item from the loot pile we acquired here.
Do you desire more? fame? vice satiation? revenge?
Stay or go.
You have already been given your freedom."
-
Smoog then turns his attention to Soup-Spoon.
" This key is a wonderful gift. Thank you.
Let me return the gesture by presenting you with your namesake.
No doubt the former head chef used this in wicked ways,
may it serve you well in your future tasks."
With that said Smoog hands the magic soup spoon over to the portly brown kobold.
Once she spots the library, her melancholy is packed away in a neat box and shelved as Sees distracts herself with reading.
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At the sound of Thunker Oadir gets up.
I guess that's our cue to move. I think we're done here. Thank you, Greas. You don't know how much you've all come to mean to me in the past days.
As Oadir and Greas wander off to head upstairs the shadows linger in the shape of Hegh. It seems they know more than Oadir, because right as they turn the corner a Goblinoid shadow appears. Neither of the Blackscales notices.
"I'm sure I don't, Oadir. You go on ahead - I have something I'd like to attend to first. Try and distract Thunk somehow - didn't he agree to teach you to Thump?" He waves off Oadir as the shadows demonstrate their extra knowledge behind them. His attention has been drawn by a certain giggling kobold.
"Krish?" Greas attempts to call the strange kobold's attention. "We have a moment, and there have been a few strange occurrences on our path here. Would you care to explain? Because I certainly do not have the knowledge to know what happened." Under the hood, Greas's eyes follow Krish carefully, trying to divine as much as possible from the kobold's actions. He needed to know. He was not having any inconveniences.
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He's reluctant, but Eats-Bugs forces his hand and, through no prompting, sign a pledge of Service After Death. Retzack sighs and tucks the thing into his pocket.
As part of his tidying, Retzack bades his growing warband to neatly pile all the bodies of the slain humans and demi-humans into a nearby alcove.
He takes the opportunity to repair any damage to his croc with fresh fast flesh ), and to exchange the anonymous corpse in bottle number one with the biggest, tallest, bestest built human they can find. He finds a stout young warrior who was crushed beneath the croc's limbs when he tried to fight it and buy time for the others. Ah, well. He will make an -excellent- drone.
In his thoroughness, Retzack wanders to the kitchen to gather the corpses of any undead now-dead servants. They might have died, been reborn, and been killed again, but there's no need to waste anything useful.
He noticed Smoog talking up the goblin and wanders over. He nods at his kin. "Indeed, this job can have, O, many benefits. Do you not crave to have your former slavers crawl before you in supplication? This...I can do."
He motions to the male zombie servant, and he collapses to the ground. On all four limbs he crawls forward and says to the goblin. "Hail thee, mighty goblin, greatest of races. I humbly beg forgiveness for that I had done and left undone to thee and thine when I was alive. Mine eyes hath been opened and I see that I have amends to make. Please, please stay with us so that I can repay all the evils me and mine hath done to you."
Retzack speaks up. "There. Doesn't that feel good?"
As Smoog is discussing the spoon with Soup-Spoon, who is staring at the implement in awe, Retzack makes his additional case to the goblin Ordo. Normally, I'd require an Aid roll, but the assistance of your high-profile zombie slave is more than enough to convince the goblin of the veracity of working with Smoog and company.
"I'll go start spreading the word," he murmurs, before heading off through the sewers.
Upstairs, Sees-Death is rifling through books in the library, which is a room that fills the entire back half of the second floor of the temple, until she finds the language ledger. You will find what you're looking for - a translation on the book - but give me an Intellect roll to determine how long it takes. You can take a +1 environmental bonus to the roll. You may also add a Bag of Books to your inventory.
As Oadir's shadow gathers itself up and follows the tiefling upstairs to investigate Thunk's latest destructive urge, Greas approaches Krish for a private consultation...
The lexicon was finally found on a high shelf in the back of the grand library. Rather than crawl back down the high-stepped ladder, Sees curls up between a few books and works on the translation.
In a few hours, she will come down to consult Smoog.
Thunk, it looks as if an assistant could greatly reduce the time it would take for Sees-Death to find the book she's looking for...hint hint...
Thunk wander over and looks.
That dumb.
He pushes the entire shelf of books to the side, shifting it a few feet Ow. Why books thump Thunk?! Thunk not hurt books! Books thump Thunk more and Thunk thump books!
Thunk then catches Sees and sets her down on a pile of books
No read book in air. Read book on ground
Pondering the implications of owning a key to and airship
(and disregarding the whole seize by force issue)
Smoog starts daydreaming about being an Airship Captain!
-
How magnicifent it will be,
soaring above the clouds,
high above our enemies,
raining down destruction,
Thunk will like that.
I wonder what type of armament a vehicle like that will have.
No bother, I can rig up some steam-powered cannons or maybe a flame-spewing device.
-
He then hears the horrible crash from upstairs and hurries to investigate...
By the time Smoog reaches the top of the stairs, Thunk has unexpectedly found exactly the ledger that Sees-Death was looking for, through sheer dumb luck. The two kobolds emerge from the rear library section, with Thunk balancing the large ledger on his head and Sees-Death studying it carefully atop him, seated on the pages themselves, when you hear a clamoring sound coming from the direction of the broken stained-glass window.
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Outside the Time Temple is a large gathering of beings of all shapes and sizes. There appears to be at least two dozen of them. Some are immediately recognizable as kobolds or goblins, but there is a pair of trolls standing off to the side and an ogre in the center. Many of them are dressed in very basic clothing or even rags, and have red marks on their wrists or shackles with broken chains attached to their necks. As you look down upon the gathering, more beings filter in of various "lesser" races.
There's another gathering, further out. Angered humans, dwarves, and elves, with a few portly halflings off to the side, are brandishing torches and pitchforks. There are guards standing nearby in Estr town guard armor, but they do not stand between the growing mob and the gathering at the Time Temple's gates.
From immediately below you, you hear a voice shouting, rallying. "TANARD! TANARD! TANARD! TANARD! TANARD!" as the voice repeats the name, the chanting is taken up by others, until even the larger trolls and ogre are growling out the word and stomping their huge feet on the ground. One of the trolls appears to have been attached to a cart before breaking free, and is still dragging the carcass of a horse behind it, attached by thongs of leather to its leg.
You have three options - climb the stairs and look out the broken window, climb up to the window that the Deathclaw came in from, or look out through one of the arrow slits closer to the ground. Since the Time Temple has been at peace for some time, the arrow slits have been filled with stained glass, but you still recognize them for what they are and you could break the glass to look through and see some of what is happening outside.
The stairs option costs you time taken to climb the stairs, the Deathclaw window costs you a defy danger roll, and the arrow slit option costs you some visibility. As another option, I believe Krish and his deathclaw are not far away, perhaps they could carry you back up to that window for a better look.
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After minions neatly and carefully stacked the bodies of all the dead humans in an alcove, Retzack did some minor paperwork, so he'd have contracts ready for all manner of time or circumstance.
As the un-human throng appears outside, Retzack nods, smiling only a little. He had foreseen that something like this might happen. It seems only right.
He scurries out a side door and approaches the horde from a flank. He doesn't really think he'll be heard by everyone at once, so he mentally girds himself to give the same speech many times. To everyone he can, he makes himself available.
"Yes! Yes! Tanard! Tanard! I know of which you speak! But glory in such sublime service does not come freely! No, it requires preparation! It requires devotion! It requires a sign that you are ready to PLEDGE!
-IF- you are ready to receive Tanard's attention, know that I am but one of Tanard's agents, and you, YES! You! You shall begin upon the path of Service by first inscribing thy name in this book. Such a simple task simply states that YOU are READY to SERVE the CAUSE to the BEST of your ABILITY even after DEATH!
Are you ready? ARE! YOU! READY? To SERVE? For TANARD! For REVENGE! For...FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME!"
And, indeed, written unto the book's title, if anyone looks, they would see the words "Guest Book" crossed out, an in it's place is simply the phrase "Service. Forever."
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Thunk looks at the books, he is beginning to think about throwing books at the humans
As Greas awaits answers, the shaman meant to be given them muttering and masking and generally being unaware of the world they actually live in, a din kicks up outside. And then, myriad voices call the name of Tanard. Something was happening. He needed to see.
The arrow slits? No. They were better suited to handling an actual assault, not viewing. Not that they had arrows for them. Greas looks up to the windows that brought him in. He wouldn't be reachable there, and he'd have a wide view of the scene - which would prove rather useful. Noting the arrow slits for later mention, Greas makes for the window, bouncing off one wall onto the other and using momentum and fast footing to run up it.
It's somewhat effective, but not quite as helpful as hoped. He'd have to get Thunk to show him how he pulled these stunts off before.
Nothing too terrible happens as a result of your 7-9 roll, except one of your throwing daggers slips out of its sheath as you scramble up the final ledge and falls down to the reception hall floor. You'll have to pick it up again later.
Damn. One left. Still, he was up now. Best see...well. It seems we've attracted followers. Ready to - the goblin. The damn goblin. He couldn't do anything now without it being a problem, but he had a foul plot he was trying to follow through on, and he was not letting him go unhindered. T'was no matter for the current moment, however. This crowd needed attending to. Sees would be in her element here. He, however was not.
This could not be left unattended. Krish was still downstairs. The goblin, while despicable, was available. Without knowing what the others were doing, he had to coordinate as best he could. "Krish!" The hooded kobold calls down to the distant one. "We have allies at the door, and they need bringing in. At the same time, we have hostiles incoming from afar. Get to work."
Greas remains at his vantage point. Sees would be able to address this crowd better. And there was no way she couldn't hear them.
Smoog looks out thru the shattered window at the growing mass of followers.
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Tanard's fame is growing faster than she is.
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To expedite the entrance up into their ranks, Smoog readies a few lengths of rope from his adventuring gear and prepares to let the ends down so the new recruits can climb up.
Also eyeing the hostile crowd, he pats his trusty steamer thinking a thick cloud of steam may be needed to cover their ascent.
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Can't have any of our new friends stuck by stray arrows from those nasty softskins.
Wow, those larger fellows might have to come in a different way.
Oh well, better let Sees have her inspirational monologuing first anyway.