Ceirn shields his face from the worst of the filth and says, "Just finish what you started and I can help cover it later. The sooner we get these up, the sooner we can try and go down."
Gaelden sighed as she stood behind the group. Getting into Undermountain was proving to be more difficult, and dirtier, than she had imagined. ”Please don’t kill anyone needlessly.” She called out to the Godling, saying it to herself as much as she said it to him. To be assaulted as such was trying her patience.
"You make the place sound like a creature. Something more than just a big old place full of traps and monsters and such. I guess every place has their weird customs and beliefs and such."
Slipping his blade back in its sheath, he whistles very loudly.
"Hey! Balanced Coin! These folks are a bit...sensitive...about the ups and downs and such. Let's just let these poor unfortunate folks up and we'll take our turn going down. I certainly don't want to get into a big brawl, BEFORE we meet the monsters."
He makes an exaggerated gesture with his hands held out wide and hopes his teammates aren't out for blood.
"Not to mention that we had not planned to go and do this today."
She turns to her companions with a nod "I agree, we simply wished to know how to get there" and almost with the same breath she addresses the man at the head of the lift "Then perhaps I should go have a word with Durnan when these men are up"
Again to her companions " Correct. Members of the Coin, I believe the owner of this establishment may need to be visited by us" she looks down at the stains on her clothing, as her and Pac's eyes meet
"Maybe. Depends how much of a scene he kicks up"
The crowd grows quiet as a form moves through it.
a man of medium height and build, brown hair trimmed close to the ear, with equally brown eyes, makes his way through the large gathering around the namesake of the Inn.
What the man begins, still mostly hidden by the first couple rows of people between you and him What is going on here?
They-ulp! the man who runs the lift pivots with anger, only to catch his tongue between his teeth in surprise. Master! My apologies. These folks he waves his hand at you They offered charity
as the lift operator speaks, the unknown man steps forward, the crowd parting wide of the man....
or perhaps it was the odd looking axe the man easily held in his left hand that caused the parting.
Looking at the axe is weird, off putting. It makes you sicken, a tightness in your stomach as it begins to flip and twist inside your innards. The moments you can look upon it, you see a long bearded axe, strange twisted runes carved deep into the multi-layered steel. Rubies and emeralds are set into the haft, with a diamond embedded into the hammer back opposite the blade.
You blink your eyes, the orbs eager to stop gazing upon the wrongness that emanates from the strange weapon.
Charity huh?
His presence enough forces the crowd back, and step back they do.
The man looks at each of you, taking you in, seeming to weigh and measure you, peeling away layers of exterior you have spent years developing your sense of self, seeming to see the true you.
Charity my Master. For the Moaning Nymphs
The man grunts in acknowledgement. He looks up at Vondal Get off the wall, Dwarfling. You look rather foolish.
So. Who are you? he asks simply
Kolaiah looks the man over carefully, taking in the weapon in his hand and the way the crowd moves around him. Her hooves shift slightly, uneasy at the unsettling aura of the axe, but she stands firm, her posture unyielding.
"Aye, charity," she mutters, "but it would seem that there are many rules I was unaware of here." She stands tall, meeting the man's gaze without hesitation. "We are the Balanced Coin," she says, her voice steady and direct, "and I am Kolaiah. As you can see, my companions and I are here for more than simple charity." Her eyes flick to the lift, her tone becoming slightly sharper. "We simply wish to know the way to Undermountain, as was our intent from the start."
She glances at the man’s weapon again, her brow furrowing slightly. "But it seems we might need to have a word with the owner of this establishment before we proceed."
Her gaze shifts back to the man, meeting his intense scrutiny with her own determined stare. "Do not mistake our purpose for weakness. I would rather have answers than unnecessary conflict." She pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. "I trust that will be possible without further... disruption."
Jambreth slides through the crowd to stand near Kolaiah, hands still empty and slightly raised, palms out.
"Maybe we misunderstood a few customs, but perhaps we can off these Nymphs some coin in exchange for maps or intelligence they've garnered? Then it's not charity, but just another business transaction between two adventuring parties. Surely that's not against the rules here, right?"
Astrillith steps back from her previous target and approaches who could only be Durnan. She looks from her companions, then to him, and in her very dull tone adds to the discussion
"It does seem that we are being penalised for a rule that seems to be by hearsay and not mentioned anywhere. That does not work well with decorum of an establishment that offers services. So perhaps confirm these so called rules more clearly?"
It seems she gives Pac a glare as he slithers down her arm and he then quickly retreats "Not now"
Ceirn glances around to see if any guards or employees were moving to get into better positions as the others talk to the boss.
Determined, Vondal continues to climb.
Ah! The Balanced Coin! Mistress Pol's heroes! The man lowers his axe to his side. He nods his head to everyone individually. The man suddenly shouts to the room. Any eye that wasnt on you before is certainly centered on you now.
Everyone! We have great heroes before us tonight! These, these folks, are the Balanced Coin! They are the reason why so many of you have liquor to drink!
the mood in the room turns on a coin flip. Where once anger and disdain glared upon you, now joy and happiness! Annoyance and disgust, now praise and admiration! Cups and mugs are raised, cheers and toasts roar from the crowds collective voice!
The man smiles brightly, waving his hand as if he was a magician who made a coin appear from 10 feet away. He turns and mutters something to the lift man, and then motions raises his voice for all of you to hear.
Please, come with me. You have questions, and for your services, i shall give you answers. But, someplace more quiet. Follow me
the man turns and heads towards the bar and the hallway beyond.
meanwhile, the lift begins to ascend again...
The dwarf jumps off the wall and back onto the ascending platform.
Jambreth peers down to check on Vondal. Seeing him apparently just fine, he turns and follows the man.
He does keep his hands free and cloak tossed back in case a Quickdraw is needed.
Ceirn nods to the crowd and follows along with Jambreth.
Taking a deep breath, Gaeldren followed along. The theatrics raised some concerns, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. That is, except for watching each others' backs.
Kolaiah watches as the mood of the room shifts dramatically, the crowd’s disdain turning into boisterous cheers. She can’t help but feel the weight of the sudden attention, her stance unwavering as she observes the man’s theatrics with a critical eye.
Her hooves shift slightly as the man gestures for them to follow, and she stands tall, her gaze firm as she locks eyes with him. "Aye, we’ve been of service," she mutters under her breath, her tone low, but not without pride. "But we’ve not come to be pawns in a performance."
She takes a step toward her companions, but her eyes linger on the man, her expression unreadable.
"Very well, we shall follow," she states, her voice steady, though there’s a slight edge to her words. "But know this – we came here for answers, not fanfare. We’ll not be swept away in any more distractions."
Her hooves click against the floor as she moves, and her eyes flick to her companions, gauging their readiness. She glances briefly at the crowd, watching their reaction, before returning her focus to the man ahead. "I agree with Jambreth," she adds, her gaze sharp. "We are here for answers. And those answers better not come with strings attached."
As she follows the man towards the bar, her hand rests lightly on the hilt of her greatsword, ever ready for whatever might come next.
Pac comes to rest over Astrillith's shoulder as she sweeps up her staff on her way to follow him. Her eyes sweep across the room one last time, before she turns her back on them. Nothing but an afterthought.
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You brace yourself and catch your feet upon the lip of the short rock wall, and launch yourself hard! You fling yourself up and out, carving a graceful arc in the air as you descend towards the platform.
Look out! the speaker yells out suddenly.
You can do nothing to arrest your fall, however, the shout was equal for the man's partners than anything else.
Four of the figures leap out of the way, grasping at the four support ropes that support the platform to the lift system above.
however
A lone figure remains upon the platform. Laid out on its back, a blanket upon its frame. As you descend, closer and closer, you take in more details. Slim frame, long black hair. Pointed ears (elf, or elven blood) with several piercings between both ears. Red lips, brown skin. But pale skin. Very pale. You fall closer, noting that the red lips hold a tint of blue. Upon the brown skin, flecks of dried blood. The blanket, dark in color, a wet spot in the abdomen area, an equally large spot upon the thigh. Boots, red spatters, dried.
you fall closer
and closer
and closer still
the eyes open
You are about to land.... upon the elf.
The elf's eyes open wide...
You spread your legs wide and land heavily upon the platform, your thick boots thudding hard into the stout wood. You flex your knees, absorbing the impact, attempting to halt the downward descent.... You squat, thighs and hamstrings screaming in anger at the sudden need to stop momentum!
You manage to stop without impacting the elf!
and then the floor drops out from under you as the platform drops.
INTO the chasm!
You stop dead in your tracks and watch him fall, only to land perfectly atop an unknown fifth figure that was hidden to you amongst the men (who had just leapt out of the way, grasping onto the four thick ropes that held up the platform) that stood upon the platform. The dwarf slams hard into the stout wood, and for a moment, seems to have stuck the landing... only to suddenly watch as the sudden weight causes the platform to begin to descend
Jambreth, as the rest of you begin to fall in behind the man who spoke, suddenly stops in his tracks, his face going pale!
"Wait, wait, there's something strange going on here. Vondal landed...on top of someone?something? I can't tell from here."
Approaching the side of the drop, Jambreth slides his primary blade, keeping it tucked along his forearm for the time being.
"Hey there, Vondal! What's going on down there?"
to spot what's happening.
Frowning, Gaeldren waited to see what Jambreth saw. There was no need to panic, nor to act blindly. First they have to understand the situation, then they could act accordingly.
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The handsome dwarf landed atop the startled elf.
"Oh! My apologizes. Didn't see you there."
"Hey there, Vondal! What's going on down there?"
"I nearly stepped on one of your folk, Jambreth. Mind coming down? I only know the elven curse words!"
"Uh, yeah, I can probably make that drop. Try this!"
[ooc=Elven]"I'm very sorry, I mean you no harm."[/ooc]
He calls down to the dwarf, trying to enunciate the elven and possibly be heard by the offended party.
"Please don't start any fights if you don't have to. We just made contact with someone who could help us out."
He waves towards Vondal with a slight "come on out" gesture but remains where he is.
Ceirn tries to help those holding the rope to keep it from going down. He calls out to his stronger companions, "We need to help with the rope!"
The dwarf hears the human's call for aid. Vondal quickly stomps over and lends his muscles to the ropes.
The rope is slippery by the sweaty hands of others.
Seeing the men fighting (and losing) the battle to hold onto the rope, Gaelden hurried over and took the place of the man who seemed to need the break the most. Given her size it wasn’t hard to convince him to step aside.
Astrillith sighs as she watches the others try and haul the platform back up
"Seems there is no space to partake in this attempt. But I do wish you all the best of luck" she then calls out to the dwarf
"Try not to die Vondal!"
"Try not to die Vondal!"
Grunting over his task, Vondal answers, "I do always appreciate when you say that, Astrillith. It means a lot."
Kolaiah steps forward with a deep, thoughtful frown, noticing the strain on her companions' faces as they work to pull the ropes. She shifts her weight, planting her hooves firmly on the ground, and takes a deep breath. The weight of the moment isn't lost on her, and she knows that her strength can aid them in more ways than one. Her chest swells as she gathers her energy, and the deep, rumbling sound of her voice fills the air.
"Let the strength of the earth be with you, pull with the might of the stone,
In this struggle, you shall not stand alone.
The weight of the world may press you low,
But together, we shall rise and grow!"
Her voice booms with power, each word heavy with intent as her eyes lock onto those pulling the ropes. Her tone is rhythmic and steady, a pulse of energy to bolster their resolve. She steps back slightly, her gaze unwavering as she watches them. Her hands rest on the hilt of her sword, her posture proud and unyielding.
The injured man, the elf, lay unconscious upon the floor. His robe had been cut down the middle with a sharp knife, revealing a savage wound into his lower abdomen. Bright blood oozes from the wound, flowing over his pale skinned side, staining the destroyed robes. Sticking out at an obscene angle, half an inch above the skin, a thick sliver of metal, dull and lifeless.
I only have a potion left. a woman's voice says distractedly as she starts to pack wads of cotton into and around the wound. I dont have any more spells, otherwise id yank this out and quickly heal him. she sighs heavily He'll just have to wait until i can rest and pray for my spells.
It is a small room, well furnished. Leather couches, a rich red with aged yellow fringe carpet spreads across the center of the floor, with polished wood not only on the floor, but also the walls and ceilings. A sense of otherworldliness, of alien comfort, of luxury exudes from every orifice of this room.
That's fine. The man standing in the far back of the room, looking with quiet intensity at the scene upon the floor. thin brown hair drifts lazily around his face, doing little to conceal his patchy bald spots on his head. Soft brown eyes are set into a face that seems to have been chiseled into harsh angles. Cheek bones just out wide, creating a sort of "starvation" look upon the man. His hand scratches at his five day growth beard, finger tendons clear upon the back of his hand. Sha'ni'fro knew better than to roam too far ahead in the dungeon. He's lucky that it was the only goblin. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. Let him spend the night with it in him, hopefully the pain will be a lesson he remembers.
The woman grunts, popping the top from her potion vial.
Nodding once, more to himself than anything you can see, he looks at each of you. He nods deeply, respect filling his features. You have my thanks for providing charity to us. Charity at the Yawning Portal... well, let's just say that it isnt something encouraged. he nods once more, emphasizing his point.
I am Shen Hzo, apparent leader of the Moaning Nymphs. Youve met Sha'ni'fro, our gutted elf. The fine lady working on him is Lady Cerila of Aurondale, our healer. The one next to the fire is the Lady Cherlyn the Honey pot, twin sister of Lady Cerila. And.... his voice trails off as he looks around the room. A chirp and squeak comes from the corner above him. He looks up and laughs, a solid chuckle. Yes, i suppose i should have expected that. you look up and see a bat hanging from the ceiling, staring intently at all of you That would be Mauot, the... well, I dont fully understand how he puts it. I just say that he's a druid, but he gets irritated by that simplistic answer. The bat begins to chirp and chitter, its wings stretching wide and fluttering. see what i mean?
Kolaiah observes the scene carefully, her gaze lingering on the injured elf and the healer's attempts to stabilize him. Her expression is serious, her brow furrowed as she watches the bloodstained wound and the potion vial in the healer's hand. She shifts her weight, her hooves clicking softly on the polished wooden floor as she steps forward.
"Aye, I see the need for haste, but it seems the lady Cerila is doing what she can," Kolaiah says, her deep voice calm but thoughtful. "Vondal, is probably better suited for dealing with wounds such as this. He has more skill and the proper spells for the task, though..." Kolaiah glances at the others before continuing with a slight tilt of her head, "...if you wish, I can offer my assistance."
She gives a sharp look at the bat fluttering in the corner, then refocuses on the task at hand. "My magic may not be as potent as your priestess, but I have my own means of healing. I can patch this wound, though I leave it to you, the healer, to decide what is best for this man."
Her large, muscular frame stands firm as she glances around the room at the gathered group. "No matter the method, it is clear this one will need time to recover," she adds, her tone calm but resolute.
She moves slightly back, allowing space, but her eyes never leave the injured elf, her posture unwavering in the quiet room.
Jambreth sits on the edge of a stool, cloak tossed back behind him and hood down.
"Seems like you lot came across some hard luck. Mind sharing some intel, call it an exchange if needed. Seeing as how giving freely seems to be frowned upon around here."
His tone is light and cordial, while he keeps its eyes scanning the others' hands and belts.
"I'm Jambreth, by the way."
"Aye, I see the need for haste, but it seems the lady Cerila is doing what she can," Kolaiah says, her deep voice calm but thoughtful. "Vondal, is probably better suited for dealing with wounds such as this. He has more skill and the proper spells for the task, though..." Kolaiah glances at the others before continuing with a slight tilt of her head, "...if you wish, I can offer my assistance."
"Oh! What?! Healing?! Yeah! I can do that!" Vondal steps forward. "I'll shoot out one Channel Energy burst and see if we need more. Alright?" The dwarf asked to no one in particular.