Dotting
This adventure takes place in the Dwarven City of Haustenhold, A Hold two kilometers beneath the Frozen peaks of The Silver Spires, A mountain range notable for its extreme heights that loom higher than any mountain range known to Dwarvenkind.
At one point Haustenhold was the region's primary source of Silver, The Clans of the hold enjoyed great wealth from the trade of valuable goods produced by their craftsmen using the precious metals extracted from the earth by their miners. But that was before the hold was sealed five centuries ago. In the year 1182 Orcs flooded the range in extreme numbers, a horde of unimaginable size, The Warriors of Haustenhold stood ready to defend their home but instead the King at the time ordered the hold sealed.
The clerics of Angradd had gazed into fires of their holy forges and bore witness to omens of defeat and destruction, Should the hold remain open and unsealed, all clans under the Silver Spires would drown in an ocean of green. The Pious King taking the omens to heart sealed the hold ignoring the protests of many of the clans, Closing the great stone gates of Haustenhold and encasing them with holy molten brass, creating The Brass Seal
And closed they have remained for these past five centuries, The Brass Seal having seen two Kings pass, The only Dwarves remaining who remember a time before The Brass Seal are the Elder Clerics whose devotion to the Dwarven deities has seen their lives extended long beyond the lifespan of a normal Dwarf. Besides them, no Dwarf remembers a time before the Seal, even the Current King, King Hanak Silversword has never seen the outside being the First king born after the day the hold was sealed.
It is 1656 and Haustenhold has fallen far from the glory it once held. Reliant on trade Haustenhold was not self-sustainable when it was sealed and was struck hard by famine in the early days, The city suffering from significant depopulation following the sealing, Even now the city is susceptible to famine should the Moldfields be struck by pestilence due to the unreliable nature of the soil and the shortage of skilled farmers.
The city also lacks the Livestock typical of an agrarian hold, thus Hunter is a common and respected trade, venturing deep into the caverns in large hunting parties to risk life and limb hunting the vicious beasts of the Underdark.
With the Trade that once sustained Haustenhold gone the wealthy and influential clans and the council headed by them fell into kleptocracy, Hoarding wealth and resources in their personal estates and clanholds, Filling their own vaults with silver waiting for the day the seal is broken. Centuries of kleptocracy has seen a number of clanless dwarves and smaller clans fall into destitution, and then into criminal activity. The depopulated and abandoned Labor Halls becoming known as The Pauper Halls as homeless and outcast dwarves sought a place to reside.
Ever since the sealing, Dwarves have argued that the seal should be broken, but still to this day the same cleric of Angradd who once warned the first king of the inevitability of defeat, now a Great Elder of Angradd, warns the current king that should the gates be opened they will all suffer extermination, and the head clans dare not argue against the gods.
So for the foreseeable future, The Brass Seal remained unbroken, and the hearty dwarves of Haustenhold must struggle and survive, By the will of the Gods, for the glory of the Ancestors, by Rock and Stone.
It is the fourth quarter of the year, Uptop the winter winds would have long settled in the Silver spires, encasing the mountain passes and grinding trade to a halt. Under the earth, the season changes up top are hardly felt. It feels the same as any other day when the Alert horns blow, Large metal horns that are placed in strategic locations throughout the cavernous city are blown by stationed militia, Signaling to all dwarves that the city is in a state of Emergency.
In the Gold Circle, a Gladiator named The Slab hears the horns blow, as a member of a militia squad called the Bloodkettels they are quickly mustered by their commander, A Stout Hammerdwarf who shares the name of his Squad; Gurid Bloodkettel. Slab occupies an unusual position in his squad as a Sponsored Gladiator and does not stay in the Barracks with his brothers in arms, Rather a general order goes out to all Sponsored Gladitatoirs in their quarters within the arena complex, to report to a location in the tunnel leading to the Bronze Circle. Slab is also informed by the messager who was sent that the emergency seems to be that the Water Reservoir has ruptured somehow, and is flooding the lower caverns, specifically the Pauper and Bronze circles, but because of the emergency situation he is not informed on why they want you to go there.
In the Pauper Circle, Durvig is not alerted by the horns, but rather a wall of water rushing down the Tunnels and Alleys of his home, Durvig being a skilled workman who has found a way to forge a trade even in the lowest circle is able to afford decent housing, And has a fairly cozy chamber carved into a cavern wall to call home, complete with a forge and anvil where he can ply his trade. Because of this, he is spared from the worst of the flooding, with only a few inches of water flooding his home. Those who made their home in shanty houses in the Alleys or in the crowded bunkhouses are less lucky, Families are forced out of homes and crowd the few dry streets, some people have gotten together and have started to bucket water out of homes and pile sand around doors, The people coming up from the lowest part of the circle speak of walls of water 10 feet high ripping through their homes, you even hear talk of drownings. It's not long before armed Malitia enter area, They go from gathering to gathering picking out Able-Bodied men, Evoking the King's law. They command these men to report to One of the Tunnels connecting to the Bronze circle for Emergency Aid. There are some gripes and grumbles, but in a state of emergency refusing conscription is a severe crime, and none refused. Of course, Durvig being a strong Dwarf and unharmed by the disaster is picked out quickly. There are assurances from the Malitia men that they are doing all they can to help. Though there is some skepticism from many people mumbled in hushed tones. The Inhabitants of the Pauper circle are particularly cynical and many have valid reasons to dislike the Malitia and the Kingsmen.
When You both arrive at the designated location, you see a lot of dwarves, already they are being divided into teams, Some into large teams of over 20, Some into small teams of 6, some into even smaller teams of 2 and 3, An exacerbated dwarf with a Scroll and quill Motions to Durvig that he'll be in a team of 2 with another dwarf, he then motions to Slab who he says will be your partner, he then tells you both to gather with the other 2 Dwarf squads and wait for one of the commanders to issue orders. You notice that most of the Dwarfs in the 2 person squads are Armed and look battle-ready, A lot of the gladiators and veteran Militia Dwarfs have been put into these groups.
"You ever been in combat? If not, stick with me. The Slab will make sure you get out all right." he says, flexing and posing as they walk toward the other squads, waving to anyone who looks like they might recognize him.
"Aye, 'en I know who ye are. Been in enough scraps to know a thing or two aye. A right proper set of steel should do the trick, but ye can't do much fightin' with water I thinks." Durivig eyes The Slab's belt.
"Ye got some dust or sweat on that there belt. Hold still a minute. It pains me heart to see a nice piece so close to where it should be." Durivig takes out a cleaning and waxing kit to spot shine The Slab's champ belt.
"There we are. Should keep the water from ruinin the shine too."
"Aye, 'en I know who ye are. Been in enough scraps to know a thing or two aye. A right proper set of steel should do the trick, but ye can't do much fightin' with water I thinks."
"Maybe not, but I've been around long enough to know it's never one thing. Mark my words: there'll be somethin' more than water in those tunnels."
Despite his serious words, his tone seems light and unconcerned, and he grows visibly happier when Durivig shines his belt.
"Hehehe. Didn't know you were a fan. Remind me to get you an autograph when we get back from the field."
"Hehehe. Didn't know you were a fan. Remind me to get you an autograph when we get back from the field."
Durivig scratches his beard. "Of ye? Nah. But the Steel Whirlwind is the son of a lady who done me right a few years back an' I shove into tha stands teh watch em fight when I can spares the time."
The Slab visibly deflates at this, but rallies quickly.
"No accountin' for taste I guess. Damn pretty boy muggin' for the crowds all the time..."
As you two gab and get to know each other an Armor clad dwarf approaches the group, followed by a half dozen unarmed dwarves, the followers all carry crates in their arms.
"Listen, Listen here you all!"
shouted the dwarf at the top of his lungs.
"I am Lieutenant Foundshield, And I have been put in charge of the peacekeepers for this operation, I'll make this as brief as possible, We have had reports of looting in the Bronze Circle, You all have been chosen to help maintain peace while the larger squads drag the pumps down to the Pauper circle, Some warehouse workers were already chased out of their shop by armed men wearing Masks, As many of you already understand, managing and distributing the limited resources of our home and vital for the survival as Haustenhold, Thus such looting and pilfering during a state of emergency is considered Treasonous by the Laws of our King and Ancestors.
You are authorized to use lethal force against Any looters or others who do violence against you, Though our primary concern is dispersing any malcontents. Each team has been given a Number and a patrol route you are to follow, Any Dwarves you find, direct them to either return home or to go to the Refugee camp being set up in the main tunnelway between the Pauper circle and the bronze Circle, Any questions you may have please direct them to My assistant Aleblood, I need to organize the other squads, He will be handing out papers describing your routes."
Foundshield motions to another dwarf clad in a much more modest garb of cloth, This must be Aleblood, in his hand is a box full of rolls of paper. Before anyone can barrage him with questions, Foundshield Quickly hustles off, his job here done.
"Grab a paper, it will tell you your route and number, I've been assured that everyone here is battle-hardened, But should you be overwhelmed for any reason, Fall back and try and get help, We don't want to lose good lives out there."
He then places the crate on the floor, Letting the dwarves each come and grab one, they each have a map of the Bronze Circle stamped onto them, corresponding with a path drawn into the map. Indicating where you will patrol.
The Slab walks over and grabs a map.
"Alright, let's get movin'!"
"Aye, it's probably a boilin' mess down thar." Durivig says as he checks the straps on his gear one more time.
The paper you end up picking indicates your path through the bronze circle, It's a continuous route, where you begin is where it ends, like a circuit, The route is short, you reckon you could walk it in less than 20 minutes in good circumstances, That being said you are expected to continue walking this route till relieved of the burden. All of the routes luckily have a point where they all cross and this is where you should expect to meet your relief.
People aren't keeping their routes to themselves, Gladiators, in particular, tend to be a loud bunch. Many are grumbling about their routes, mostly about how they have been stuck with very long routes that would take them over an hour to trog through, Many of these Dwarfs are also unhappy that these routes seem to be marching them through the more rundown and unused section of the Bronze Circle, You hear one vocal gladiator proclaim loudly
"Aye, this section they got me trudging through ain't got narry a thing worth takin, Ain't gonna be any looters to fight'ere"
After some time has passed, Aleblood Signals for you all to march out, and head to your routes.
"Get to it then Dwarves, Do your Families and Militias proud, Torag with Ye!"
"Yeah yeah, Torag be with ya and all that." The Slab responds, barely avoiding rolling his eyes.
"Not that the uptight git's ever done nothin' for me. Now Gorum, Kord, Kurgess: those are some real gods." he says when he thinks they're out of earshot of the other dwarves.
"Ain't never got so much as a single extra rep out of Torag. Got no appreciation for the simple purity of massive gains."
Durivig looks at The Slab with a face full of pity.
"Stop that lad. The Father O' Creation should nae be treated with disrespect. If'n he didn't approve of yer strength, ye think he'd have a son known as The Mighty? It's nae fer him to push you. If'n ye turned to other gods to push yerself...well I'm sure he'd be glad fer it, fer you. I'd swear it on me craft." The Blacksmith chastises The Slab with a touch of emotion in his voice.
"It's got to be one of Torag's family fer me if not the Father 'imself. The Oath-Keeper is probably the only one who can remove these scars." Durivig opens and closes his gauntleted hands flexing the fingers.
"Aye, perhaps. But think o' this: would ya even have the scars without his influence in the first place? There ain't no reason to praise Torag in the lower circles, boy. He's the only reason we're here in the first place."
"Nae, I don't believe Torag had anything to do with it. I had some rivals who didn't like a new smithy gettin' more acclaim than they. But if it were a choice between between my gift with the forge an' gettin' the scars...I'd choose the same path every time I would."
The Slab mulls over the value of further debating philosophy with someone he barely knows, and thinks better of it.
I ain't drunk enough for this.
Instead, he shrugs.
"S'long as it's your own choice. No skin off my nose."
You and the crowd are marched through the long tunnel leading to the bronze circle, The tunnel is not just some cavern, It is a carved from solid stone and wide enough that two wagons could travel down it side by side with enough room to squeeze a few people through. The Tunnel floor is paved with stone brick and the 8-foot tall walls of the tunnel have been smoothed and chiseled from top to bottom with dwarven runes, angular art depicting historical moments, Praises to the gods, and Dwarven Legends.
Right now though every surface of the tunnel is slick to the touch, with puddles forming in the divets in the tunnel road. You arrive at the Circle behind another group who came along, they appear to be setting up triage beds, Another group of them are setting up a cooking pot so large it needs 3 dwarves to lift it. you don't have long to observe this feat of community Because your group is quickly ordered to move, And the first patrols head out.
Though you start off pretty dry, the area you ultimately find yourself slogging through is waist-deep in water for a dwarf, You head down alleyways and through clearings, The place seems mostly abandoned, As you round a corner hear a dwarf bellow something out
"I think I got something good!"
The voice echos on the water and is a good distance away, if you follow the voice you come to a two-story stone building, Two dwarves with bandanas covering their beards stand in the water arms up as a third dwarf on the second story strains as he lowers a red-painted barrel by some rope into his companion's arms.
Occupied with their work they do not notice you from the alleyway you come out of.
"Oi! You three! Drop the barrel and get outta here before I stick you through one of these buildings the hard way!"
All three dwarves look at the loud unarmed dwarf shouting at them, after a beat you hear the dwarf on the second story shout.
"Hey That's The Slab, He's a Gladiator up there in the Area!"
The Dwarves on the ground both Draw hammers from their belts.
"Get out of here Militia Lackies! This is our Booty!"
You see the dwarf on the second story let go of the rope, sending the barrel splashing into the water below, and pulling a heavy crossbow from his back.
The Slab starts aggressively stalking towards them.
"You don't drop that barrel and get outta here the only 'booty' you'll be having is my FOOT UP YER ASS!" he shouts.
The Slab does a fair job freaking these guys out, The Dwarf who was leading the looks back at his companions and then raises his hammer up
"There are more of us than you, Get'em Lads!!"
"Get outta 'ere ya ninnies and get a real job. Learn ta swing a pickaxe or hammer!" Durivig shouts as he moves up to the dwarf in front and tries to clobber him over the head with his tower shield.
Whenever a weapon attack (not including siege weapons, or other massive weapons) misses a creature benefiting from your active defense, you may choose a new target for the attack within its original range (for ranged attacks) or reach (for melee attacks) as a free action that can be taken even when it’s not your turn, comparing the original attack roll, with a -2 penalty, to the new target’s AC and resolving the attack as normal on a successful hit.
The Slab struts in on the loudest one.
"You had yer chance, boyo."
The Slab grabs him by the shirt.
Then (whether it succeeds or not), he moves to put him in a headlock.
"Yer in fer a new level of PAAIIIIN, boy!"
The first looter steps up with his hammer held high, ready to strike The Slab, Before being thrown off balance by Slab Grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for the grapple. The Looter struggling and trying to pull away.
But he fails to break away, Meanwhile, his friend trudges up closer.
"Bleedin water, You let go of him you milkdrinker!"
Shouts the second looter, closing the distance, but due to the water he can't close the distance in a full move.
Meanwhile the Crossbow Dwarf takes aim, Lowering his bow pointing it at Durvig, Cranking the cord of his crossbow extra tight and releasing it.
The attack misses, you feel the heavy thud of the extra wound bolt reverberate through your shield, requiring you to hold your ground to not stumble back. When it goes flying back it smashes into the side of the stone building, sending stone dust flying everywhere from the powerful shot. You survived with only a sore shield hand.
The Slab shifts his grip, pushing the ornery looter to his knees.
"Milkdrinker, eh boy? Yer lucky I'm not, or you'd get a real fine show from down there."
Durivig sees The Slab has the first guy in decent hands and so goes to smash the other dwarf's hammer into a million pieces.
"Ye don't deserve a 'ammer if'n yer gonna use it like a thug!"
The first looter is pinned down, and incapable of getting Slab off him, His head getting partially submerged in the water in the process.
The second looter's hammer is a small flimsy thing and it shatters to pieces at the first strike. You also strike him for significant damage, being unarmed the looter curses and turns to try and run away.
The Crossbowdwarf in the building vanishes as he runs into the building.
"Och, now ye're tryin' ta run away? Ye got no stones ye mold suckin blighter!"
The Slab just puts his boot on the neck of the pinned dwarf and holds him there until he loses consciousness.
Durvig Slashes through the back of the Looters leather shirt, slicing right through it and causing it to fall to bits, His cut also gouges into the Dwarve's back causing a gout of blood to stain the water surrounding him red. The Looter staggers and stumbles trying to limp away, His wound clearly grievous and life-threatening.
"I yield dangit I yield mercy!" Shouts the looter, still stumbling away through the water.
The Dwarf being held underwater starts to panic and thrash around. His undisciplined squirming though is not doing much to break Slab's hold on him.
The Crossbowdwarf who ran inside is nowhere to be seen since he vanished into the building.
The Dwarf being held underwater starts to panic and thrash around. His undisciplined squirming though is not doing much to break Slab's hold on him.
The Crossbowdwarf who ran inside is nowhere to be seen since he vanished into the building.
"Let the other dumb gits go. No need to hunt 'em down if they didn't even get away with nothin'."
"I'm gonna make sure there ain't nobody inside that needs help." Durivig gives the yielded looter the stink eye before trudging towards the building.
Trudging through the water it takes Durvig two rounds to reach the building, Luckily the warehouse is free of water.
Slab's victim continues to struggle and resist, splashing up a storm.
When Durvig enters the warehouse, he enters into a hallway of crates, He takes a few steps in but does not hear the creaking of wood before it's too late, one of the stacks of crates tipping over to fall ontop of Durvig. The Armored dwarf unable to leap out of the way in time. The heavy crates full of metal tools come crashing ontop of Durvic, pinning him under them. Accompanied by a victorious scream in dwarven, most likely the person who pushed the crates over.
Even without Durvig saying anything, the crash of metal tools and crates is loud enough for The Slab to hear even from outside.
Durivig lets out a complex string of curses.
"Ya need help over there, boy? Pretty sure I could make the young lad here play nice."
"Bah! I'll be fine, just gotta dig myself outta this."
Durivig tries to break out of the boxes.
Durvig pulls himself out from under the crates, Just in time to be confronted by the dwarf who had pushed them, Masked like the others, he climbed over a crate and charged at Durvig with a warpick, While two more dwarves round a corner and start to hustle over at Durvig, One of them the Dwarf from the second floor, stopping and drawing his crossbow and firing, The third Dwarf likewise masked and armed with an Ornate Warpick that glows with runes.
Durivig angles his tower shield to deflect the crossbow bolt into the pick dwarf before smashing the back end of the pick into the same dwarf and trying to wallop him on the head with his shield.
The bolt flies into the dwarf looming over Durvig, The combining attacks down him in one go, The Dwarf dead before he hits the ground.
"Cowards hiding behind that damn shield, destroy it!"
The Dwarf wielding the magic Pick shouts. then charges at Durvig, attempting to Sunder his shield, The dwarf dropping his crossbow and moving towards Survig as well, drawing a mace.
As the Magical pick strikes your shield it crackles with electrical energy, but your grip holds and the well-made shield remains unharmed.
"Ye callin me a coward? I dinnae see myself ganging up on you!" Durivig shouts as he continues swinging his Tower Shield around.
"Hey Slab! Quit playin in tha water out there an' give me a hand!"
The Slab snorts.
"C'mon boyo. You 'n' me's goin' for a trip." he tells the helpless looter dwarf, and starts dragging him off toward the warehouse.
"Take that f#~~ing shield from him!"
Shouts the pick wielding Dwarf, who is clearly the leader of sorts, Reaching out to littery try and grab Durvig's shield, Assisted by the other Dwarf. Recognizing that with that shield in the way, there is hardly a chance they can overcome Durvig.
The Dwarves each grab the Shield, Dropping their weapons as four hands grab the Towering hunk of metal and wood, a struggle ensuing as they try and tear it away from Durvig.