Dhice peers into the building over Hjalmar's shoulder and spots the waist-tall mantises. "Oh boy, I've heard stories about these guys before. Old Grange Blood-Eyes used to tell tales about how they would..."
Dhice, you've heard tales of praying mantises getting so big that they start chasing after dwarf hunters as prey. The stories say that their claws are fast enough to catch an arrow on the fly.
"Well, looks like someone needs to save him."
With that, Bathilda draws her sword and barely stops herself from letting loose a warcry as she drops down beside Archepex.
"You know, if I get you out of this mess, you owe me a drink," she says with a wink.
Let's see a Defy Danger: Dexterity roll to drop unharmed to the basement, Bathilda. If it was a clean drop to a wide-open floor, that'd be easy enough to do without a roll, but there's rubble down there. Let's give you a +1 to the roll because you looked before you leaped.
Archepex sighs at the impulsive fighter. He should have expected nothing less. He quickly summarizes their predicament in a voice that is loud enough to be heard. We are in their nest and surrounded. They've built it on some kind of summoning circle built into the floor. This one could get sticky...
Everything seems to be going fine. Sure they were surrounded, but that just meant you had more heads to lop off. Archepex did have a point, and Bathilda knew she needed to be careful.
Unfortunately, the pile of rubble under her shifts and sends the heavily armed and armored lass on her backside as a particularly large and irate mantis looms over her.
"Did, I think you meant this did just get sticky, Archepex," she says calmly, but there's just a tinge of trepidation in her voice.
At the sound of Bathilda's armored body clattering to the floor, the mantises all begin hissing at once, their carapaces opening to reveal wings beneath that begin to flap faster than your eyes can track. Even from this close, barbarian, you can barely see the mantis you almost landed on from the dust cloud...but its pointed head is looming through the shadows at you, its mandibles picking over each other, in constant motion.
Archepex, a ranger like yourself knows animal posturing - the nest is extremely aggravated and could attack at any moment. Some of the mantises are taking to the air and hovering angrily above the ground like oversized bees with claws in praying position. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the light, you can see the stairs through a doorway in the wall on your left, but there are nests and insects between you and the exit. Bathilda is slowly rising to her feet nearby, facing down an enormous mantis that is mere feet away from her. What do you do?
Bathilda, I'm about to ask you to do something you're not very good at. Right now, you need to look very small, very harmless, and slowly move torward that door on our left. If they get any angrier, we come back here and climb up the way we came. Slowly. No sudden movements. And in the name of all things living please do not take a swing at them. Archepex speaks low and slow. He stows his arrow and bow, couches low, and inches toward the stairs.
Bathilda looks like she isn't even listening for a moment, her face is pale as she realizes just how badly she just screwed up, then very slowly, very carefully, she nods. She stops trying to stand and very slowly very carefully sheathes her sword. A swallow, a bead of cold sweat on her temple, and a tremor running through her body all give away that she's more than just a bit scared. She'd expected a couple, no more than a half dozen of the things, not a swarm she could barely see in the swirling dust.
Clutching the sword and its scabbard close she slowly slides to the door, nervously glancing at Archepex and the mantises.
"Y-y'know. I d-d-don't think I-i-i-i've ever been terrified before," she says quietly, "I d-d-d-don't like it."
Terrified is good. Terrified keeps you alive. Responds the ranger in very measured tones.
Few can understand the dangerous wildness of untamed animals like a ranger or a barbarian; as such, there is no guile or trickery in their respect and submission to the creatures. Lowering their weapons and taking each step slowly and carefully, the pair of adventurers leave the pillar of light in the center of the room and venture into the blackness of the basement. All around them, barely visible in the dark, the hive is watching their every move. As Archepex leads the way through the basement, the mantises in his way raise their claws to look more threatening and back away slowly. It appears that the hive just wants to be left alone - as is often the case with wildlife. Archepex and Mathilda, sweating slightly from the tension, make it out of the primary basement space and glance backward. From the light shining down from the opening in the ceiling, complicated drawings can be seen painted on the ground from wall to wall, wherever there wasn't a mantis nest on the ground.
You find that you can make your way up the pitch-black staircase by feel, but discover that the door leading to the main level is jammed shut. Those of you on the main floor can hear Archepex jiggling the doorknob of a door on the far side of the long room you're in. What do you do?
In the pitch black Archepex can feel Bathilda shaking next to him. Her breath comes and goes in shuddering, but quiet, gasps.
"A-archepex," she begins to ask in a quiet voice that fits more with a young maiden woken by nightmares than the young, rash swordswoman you have come to know, "C-can you do me a favor?"
She slides further up the stairs, her back against the door now.
Dhice repositions himself near the door on the other side. He quickly evaluates the stone work around the door, thinking "hmm, that was actually pretty well built for its day" while trying to work out exactly why it's stuck. It's not surprising that the seasoned stoneworker quickly spots the sticking point, but what is surprising is what happens next. The stone blocks that shifted due to the intense heat that affected this area start to shift, seemingly of their own accord, moving enough to open up the door.
Dhice appears a bit shocked, then slumps a bit as if exhausted.
Archepex can hear his heart pounding against his ribcage and his fingers tingle from the near overdose of adrenaline. Still, his voice is relatively, if a bit quieter than normal.
Certainly, Bethilda. He whispers to the shaking powerhouse that was also, at least in this moment, still a young girl.
Archepex and Bathilda's quiet moment is suddenly interrupted, ! There's a groaning of rock, a shifting of stone, and the doorway widens just enough for the door to easily swing open. Bathilda, leaning against it, nearly stumbles again, but catches herself. Dhice is standing there, looking momentarily as surprised as you two are that the door suddenly opened. He looks worn, as if he spent all morning laboring with difficult tasks. You all are reunited, and Mule promptly flies down to perch on Archepex again, but you're still inside the mantis nest. What do you all do next?
Dhice relaxes his focus once his colleagues are through the door, and those paying close attention notice that the stone blocks shift back into their previous position as the channeler ceases his concentration. The door is good and stuck again.
Having followed the goings on in the basement, perched at the edge of the hole, Hjalmar had made his way to the door with Dhice. As the door had opened and their two companions were reunited with them, he had stepped into the doorway with his musket at the ready, just in case one of the giant bugs was on their heels. "Good job keepin' a level head there you two." He said, offering reassuring shoulder pats. "Better you than me though. Had it been me down there, right about now there would have been a mantis with a perforated skull and a dwarf in pieces."
He looked back towards where they had come, then towards the direction they needed to go. "You reckon these buggers will let us keep goin' through, or do we hightail it the way we came?"
Archepex glances behind him. With the numbers down there I suggest we go back and advise the company to leave this area alone. Let's go check out that barricade.
"Still, if we make it through, we can get a look at whats behind that barricade." Hjalmar mused, stroking his chin and looking more and more towards their original destination. "We're already half way through, cant be that far to the other side."
"Hold me," she asks in that same, too soft voice.
A flood of memories and worry hit Archepex like one of Hjalmar's bullets.
Never Again
Good. Let her be scared. It's good for the soul.
Also it says, "One without fear is one without respect", No? She has tasted what it is to be prey. Maybe now she will be more careful when confined with nature.
All this in a matter of half a breath. He gropes for her hand and brings under one arm while feeling his way along the cool wall with the other.
And how soon until "Never Again" becomes "Just once more"?
Archepex finds Bathilda's gauntleted hands clutching her sheathed sword to her chest, and soon finds his arm joining the sword, as well as going numb. Her skin is warm where it isn't covered by steel, leather, and padding. He can even feel her wincing when ever her cracked ribs decide to remind her of their presence. This is a softer side of Bathilda that you are certain is almost never shown to anyone, and even then only in parts.
As you walk up the stairs, it seems that the adrenaline is wearing off for the barbarian as well. By the time you reach the top, she's breathing heavily in pain and favoring her right side.
"Guess you've already seen through the act, I don't suppose you can fix broken ribs with some elfy magic stuff?"
He chuckles apologetically when asked if he has magic. Sorry. You gotta see Myk-Myk for that one.
"Figures," Bathilda says wryly and in a more normal tone, "That goddess he serves bless him, he tried. I thought I might get lucky and it turns out you have super-special heal-y powers too. Oh well."
After a few more steps up the stairs, Bathilda mumbles under her breath, barely able to be heard over the soft rustling of her chainmail.
"This isn't so bad. If we weren't running from the bugs and worried about the rats, wouldn't be so bad to take it slow. Might even be fun."
Archepex nods in the dark. Never again
They soon come to the door and are promptly liberated just to find that the fight might not be over...
As the door begins to open, Bathilda tries to quickly remove herself from Archepex's comforting embrace without hurting the elf, or his feelings, strangely enough.
But apparently not carefully enough as she clutches at her side and falls through the door.
The slowly opening door is forced open more quickly as Bathilda falls through it, clutching at her right side with a cry of pain.
"Damn ribs," is all she says in a breathless voice as she lies there on the floor waiting for the pain to stop.
When Bathilda and Archepex emerge from the dark basement, covered in dust, the party decides to avoid the mantis hive and try the barricade once again.
Hjalmar is the first one outside the building. When he emerges out onto the street again, he's greeted by a warning shot! Pebbles and stones from the cobbled street go flying as a rifle's report echoes off of the nearby buildings. You look up, and see there - on the second story of the building whose entrance is being blocked by the barrier - three dwarf women holding long guns. They're aimed down at you and the hammers are pulled back, ready to shoot. "Not another step, looter!" one of the dwarves cries out. "Turn around and go back the way you came, or the next shot won't miss!"
Hjalmar and Dhice are in the doorway, the rest of you are still inside the building/hive. The mantises are alert and watching you, but aren't making any aggressive actions...yet. What do you all do?
"What is it with dwarves and loud bangs," Bathilda muses.
It takes the naive young stoneworker a moment to realize that the dwarves think he's a looter. His expression falls and he looks up at the dwarves in the tower as his mouth flops open and closed like a goldfish, no words coming out. Finally, he looks around at his nearby colleagues and realizes that they do, in fact, look exactly like heavily armed looters. "Hjalmar, these are your kin, but do you think perhaps our friend Myk-Myk might be our best negotiator at this point? Where is he at now...?
"Hold your fire! Madame, I assure you we are not looters. We came under attack by a company of Skaven nearby and came to check on the security of your town and the mine. We'd like to render any aid we can. What happened to the town? Was it the Skaven? Those mantis creatures?"
Parley
"Or the heavily armed merc could do it..." Dhice shrugs as Grigor bellows at the dwarves. "Maybe I'll just go find Myk-Myk in case this goes south." He slips away to grab Myk-Myk.
When you reach Myk-Myk, he's already nodding, having seemingly understood your idea before you could articulate it. As you move to bring him outside, you see Grigor boldly step forth and try to resolve the situation himself.
The rightmost dwarf, a lass barely entered into adulthood but nonetheless gripping her rifle confidently, starts to waver. She gulps, seeming uncomfortable, and glances sidelong at the leftmost dwarf, before turning her eyes to the middle dwarf. For her part, the dwarf woman in the center doesn't move her rifle muzzle an inch from where it's pointed at Hjalmar's chest.
"We're not looters, we're not looters...you all say the same things!" she spits, her grip tightening on the gun. Her eyes narrow in mistrust. Her face has recently-inflicted wounds on it that are just now beginning to scar over, and her hair is drawn back into a tightly cropped bun. She raises her rifle butt to her shoulder again, sighting down the barrel at you. "You say you aren't looters, eh? That you're here for peace-loving reasons, to fight the Skaven. Hah! We weren't born yesterday! You aren't taking another step through this town without showing us some proof!"
What do you guys have on your person that could be used to prove that you are who you say you are? Be creative. :)
I hold up the simple golden talisman. "Do you recognize this? It was taken from one of the Skaven I gutted."
The center dwarf stares at you for a moment, then her gaze flicks to the talisman. She makes a gesture to the dwarf on her left, who sets her gun down and picks up a basket. You see the leftmost dwarf woman concentrate a moment, then the basket is lifted seemingly by an invisible hand and lowered to you by floating over the barricade.
"Put the talisman in the basket so we can look at it!" the middle dwarf orders. Her gun muzzle is no longer pointed at any of you, but it's only been lowered by a few hairs; she's clearly still suspicious.
The center dwarf stares at you for a moment, then her gaze flicks to the talisman. She makes a gesture to the dwarf on her left, who sets her gun down and picks up a basket. You see the leftmost dwarf woman concentrate a moment, then the basket is lifted seemingly by an invisible hand and lowered to you by floating over the barricade.
"Put the talisman in the basket so we can look at it!" the middle dwarf orders. Her gun muzzle is no longer pointed at any of you, but it's only been lowered by a few hairs; she's clearly still suspicious.
I do as she asks, then step back to stand with my friends.
Carefully, the basket floats back up to the balcony on which the three dwarf women stand. With an imperious toss of her head, the middle one gets the younger one on the right to pick it up and examine it while the middle one, still suspicious, slowly moves her gun back and forth across the group of adventurers below.
You see the young dwarf lass study it carefully, then wipe her thumb over the edge of one of the sides. "Skaven blood," she reports to the dwarf in the center. At a nod from the center dwarf, the younger one pitches the talisman back to you, Grigor - she has a good arm, clearly, and the talisman is easy to catch to the point where you don't need to make a roll. It glitters in the air as it turns end over end before slapping into your palm.
The center dwarf makes a "tsk" sound and raises her weapon's muzzle, relaxing. "Very well, we'll believe you. Any enemy of the Skaven's a friend of ours. Come on up and we'll roll out the welcome mat. Welcome to Tollerhelm."
With that, she turns and strides off into the building through the balcony doors. The leftmost dwarf gestures with one hand, tapping into her magic once again, and a rope ladder is tossed over the side, allowing you all to climb up to the balcony. You see that the ladder is dwarf-make, and despite the shoddy materials it holds together exceedingly well. Despite your armor you all are able to make the climb.
Bathilda heads up last, ostensibly because she'd be able to handle herself better than most everyone else.
*Huff* "This armor..." *Huff* "is a lot heavier..." *wheeze* "than you'd think!" says Dhice as he very awkwardly climbs the ladder. You can't help but notice that his boiled leather cuirass and padded leggings appear to be MUCH lighter than the armor that Grigor wears as he scampers up the ladder easily.
Once at the top, Dhice takes stock of his surroundings and positions himself behind Grigor. He seems to be stooping awkwardly, as if to minimize his lanky height around the much shorter dwarves.
Archepex lights up the latter with all the grace that an elven hunter should have. Unlike Dhice, he makes no effort to hide his heritage. It's not like he could hide it even if he tried. Mule still rides on his shoulder and eyes each dwarf as if checking whether they are a rabbit.
From below you hear cursing interspersed with heavy breathing. A shout follows you up the ladder.
"Grigor! Grigor wait! Wicks said, and I quote, 'go tell Grigor that you are his problem now.'"
Morley climbs the ladder, his green hood and mask pushed down into his leather coat and his rapier clacking against each rung. The bow strapped to his back hangs awkwardly.
He reaches the top of the ladder and pulls himself up, bringing himself to a rather impertinent salute before Grigor. He glances at Dhice, and nods, and then looks down sheepishly after making eye contact with Archepex.
Having thought better of saying anything at the point of a gun, now that things had calmed down a bit, Hjalmar couldnt help himself. "What times we live in, that one dwarf would think they would ever be robbed by another." He grumbled, loud enough to be heard by most anyone nearby.
"Oh no," Bathilda groans as she hears an all too familiar voice. She'd caught Morley not once, but twice in her tent without permission. The second time had nearly resulted in his death since she'd been in the middle of getting undressed when she noticed the bugger.
"No. No. No. This is just a nightmare, one of them halluc-i-thingies you see before you die. That rat-ogre ate me in one bite and now I'm being digested in his belly. Even Wicks isn't this much of a bastard, right," she mumbles into her hands as she slowly shakes her head.
She looks up and sees that Morley is still there and that she's not in the belly of some beast being digested. There was only one thign she could do.
Privately to Morley: "I want you to keep your eyes open. Get me any information about the situation that they don't want us to know. However, keep your hands off of their (and our) valuables, okay?"
Morley notices Bathilda and takes a step back. He stammers, "Nice to, ah, see you again Bathilda."
Mortified at what he has said, Morley slinks to a corner and follows Grigor's order.
The center, scarred dwarf doesn't wait for you all to climb the ladder, turning around and making purposeful strides into the room within after throwing open the damaged double doors. You can see that the balcony is of fine design, and the double doors were French style before all the panes of glass got blown out. As a result, the doors are rather drafty.
You follow the dwarven trio into their abode, and find yourselves in a library. In stark contrast with the rest of the bombed-out town of Tollerhelm, this room appears to be completely untouched. The library room that you're standing in appears to fill the entire third floor of this house; you can see the top of the stairwell in the far corner. There are a few leather chairs with nightstands beside them. There's even a dwarf-make chandelier, glittering in the light that it casts from above. All in all, the civilized nature of the room is striking in its resplendence. Those of you who are especially perceptive would realize that you looked at the exterior of this building and saw no light coming from it before. Something must be masking the chandelier to show no light to the street outside...probably minor magic.
The lead dwarf turns to face you. The grandeur of the room she's in seems to make her look even shabbier, if that's possible. "Right then," she says, her tone curt and businesslike. "You killed a Skaven lieutenant and took his talisman of office, that's enough to get me to let you in. As you can see from the town outside, there's not much left to save from the Skaven; they've done their bloody work already." she smooths her hair backward with one hand, grimacing, and turns to glance at the youngest dwarf, who is staring pointedly at her.
The lead dwarf closes her eyes in frustration. "Right, where are my manners... I'm Helga, and these are my two sisters, Freya and Gerda. They don't talk much since..." she trails off and her expression hardens, as if she's wondering why she's sharing so much about them. You notice she's staring at Gerda, the strange sister that levitated the basket. Gerda approaches Bathilda, who is still injured and covered in dust. Tsk'ing quietly without saying any words, Gerda places one hand on Bathilda's forehead, gently. There's a soft glow that envelops the dwarf and the barbarian, and Bathilda heals for 1d8 HP.
Helga sighs. "I guess my sisters have decided that you're worth helping. Great."