Isoldda Ironbloom's page

"Goodbye everyone!" Isoldda waves drunkenly to all the dwarves slowly filing out of the hall. Wow. What a party. I met a princess, boys fought over me, and everyone loved my stout! It's just like a fairy tale.

I was hoping for one more interaction with Dwunderbran, but I'm not sure if we'll have time at this point.

Suddenly the effects of all the booze, food and the short bout of fighting catch up to Isoldda. The room begins to blur slightly, and she finds it hard to concentrate on the murmur of the Princess' entourage. Time ta piss off and call it a night. She thinks to herself, muttering a "S'cuse meh." before walking away from the delegation from Tian Xia. She seeks out Dwunderbran, following her nose to his stench. When she finds the smelly bearded one, she slaps him on the shoulder saying loudly, "Oi, Dwundie. Will you walk me to me horse? I got one more gift fer this here party. Is that a cigar? Where's mine?"

Oh, will you look at that, it's the 19th already! :)

Whenever I see Rin's profile I think of the original image it was cropped from. Steampunk Harsk. I almost made my character based on that pic actually.

What in the hells is he doing? Isoldda thinks, watching the nonsense spouting dwarf twirl is overly large blade around the room full of people trying to eat. Frowning mightily at such a dangerous display, she hops up on a bench near the Princess' entourage and shouts across the hall at Rin, "Oi! We can all see that you're compensating for something. No need to wave it about like it's yer first wood! You'll put an eye out!" Her feelings rudely vented, she turns back to the Minkaians, waiting for a response to her and Quint's inquiries.

"Oh, a foo lion. I see. Guess y'all aint as dumb as I thought." Isoldda replies to Mineko and her translator. As Inoue and Quint start to use lots of big words, Isoldda's eyes narrow as she tries to follow. "Yeah, I wanna know more stuff too. Are you going to live here forever now? If you want to make any friends you'll probably have to talk to people directly you know. Are any of your people martial artists? I'd love to meet more fighters like me. Around here it's mainly just me and my brother."

I'm still here, just waiting on Celeador. Not trying to rush you though man, take your time. I'm not too worried about getting in a bajillion before the 19th.

A look of consternation grips Dwunderbran's face as one of the offered stogies seems to float itself down the table to Kal'tos. His jaw sets firm and the look he shoots the scholar is one of pure, unadulterated disgust. Not wishing to cause another ruckus so soon, however, he seems to master his emotions for a change, instead focusing on the question posed to the table by the Varisian Pilgrim. Reclining as far as his seat will allow, and owing to the intervention of Daelric's much needed restorative efforts on his lower back, the broad and well muscled dwarf locks the fingers of both hands behind his head as he casually enjoys the fragrance and rich taste of his Shadeleaf.

"T'were nae a brawl a'truly, it weren't. Ya see tha' Skuldafn boy-o what's sittin' square 'n tha middle o' tha' table yonder? Vigar be 'is name. 'E did profess 'e wanted us fer ta honor 'is da' right kingly-like, ye grab me? Dwarf-proper-like, even, aye?" He leans forward now, fully invested in the absolutely, undeniably truthful account of what transpired moments prior as he continues the story around the girth of his stogie. "Nie, meself an' Magnus—tha white haired bleeder aside me 'ere—we be dwarves proved, ye grab me? But tha lad Daelric, ye see, 'e 'ad been overindulged on 'is Ma's teet. Nie, 'e wants fer ta bed the good Forgemaster Maven Brewbane an' name 'imself a man, but she'll nae lie wiff a whelp what ain't drank ner rubbed knuckles fierce yet, aye? So we 'ad a good tussle wiff tha boy-o, an' some o' tha other stoutfolk obliged me an' Magnus a'tryin' ta initiate tha Stonelordling proper-like." Dwunderbran nods with a grin, recalling the details with crystal clarity.

"Ah'll be admittin', ah did lose me stones fer a moment when 'e got too close ta 'Soldda Ironbloom—she be me wife-ta-be, ya grab me? But we 'ammered tha' all out, an' nie we're a'brothered true!"

Ha!

"Maven Brewbane." Her reply seems absentmindedly automatic, as her hand still traces over the flowing marble. After a moment's pause, she looks up and blinks, registering the rest of Isoldda's statement. "Wait. Poo lions?" Maven's face scrunches in disbelief. "Hard ta think anyone would name somethin' this amazin' after somethin' that smelly. He's like livin' marble. How in the world would 'e pick up a name like that??"

"I dunno. They talk all sorts of funny over there in Tian Xia. It probably means something cool in Minkaian. Maybe poo means marble?" Isoldda asks. Pulling on the corners of her eyes she does an impression of the Minkaian accent. "Ohh, the poo columns fronting this building are amazing!" Then she starts laughing like a little kid. Just then, Maven turns and runs away. Wait a minnit. Did she say Brewbane....brew-bane? Don't bane mean you don't like it or somethin'? Who don't like brew enough to name their whole family that way? Some damn perverted dwarves here tonight. Isoldda shakes her head at the retreating cleric's back.

Gonna stick by the princess for one more post from her, then it's back to gen pop to catch up with Daelric and Dwunderbran.

Isoldda makes a rude hand gesture at the retreating doctor's back. "Whatever, fancy coat! I know me a prevert when I sees one. Damned beer wastin' vampire..." she mutters. Turning back to Komainiu she seems to notice Maven for the first time. "Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. You're another one of those Torag pants people, right? A mighty fine beastie aint he? Called poo lions they are." She says knowingly. "Me name's Soldda, what's yours?"

Nodding silently, the Watashi-boku greeted the woman with a bow far lower then she had displayed to any of the other greeters. "The Empress who the stones revere wishes you to know that it is rare to find someone from the west who knows the traditions of her people. She states that you are welcome in her presence and wishes to know from who you learned such manners."

"Oh, she doesn't speak dwarven? How disappointing..." Isoldda says to Inoue, looking at Mineko with the let down she's experiencing clearly written on her plain features. "My great grandfather Gorggie traveled to Minkai several centuries ago to study with the monks of the Sacred Mountain...kore-eee-uu." Clearly Isoldda's grasp on Minkian is non existent. The word is so badly mispronounced that it takes the Tian dwarves a few moments of mental acrobatics to figure out what she must be trying to say. "After he was done training, he came back to Avistan and taught my grandfather. My grandfather taught me and my twin brother." Isoldda stops in her tale to reach out and run on hand softly along Komainiu's flank as he passes. But then her face screws up in an empathetic, pained, expression. Turning back to Mineko she continues, "So an evil emperor and an army of Oh-nee killed your whole family? That f*cking sucks! I'm really sorry...Some goblins killed me da. So I know how much..." Isoldda stops, choking up a bit. She clears her throat as she tries to force the tears forming in her eyes back down. Why does everything keep reminding me of that tonight? Uhhh...maybe because it was your fault dumb ass? And you're at someone's father's funeral!?

Padding past the two female dwarves, Komainu-Kun stops as he nears the dwarf in the white coat. Instinctively a deep grown rolls through the creatures chest and he shakes his body causing the golden stone mane of hair to shake in a motion that can only be perceived of as aggression. Coolly glancing towards her protector, the Empress takes a sip of her plum wine. As she raises the glass to break eye contact with the intense dwarf she reached out into the deep part of her soul and touches the half that belongs to Komainu-Kun.

Letting her presence fill her mind, body and soul for a brief moment she is next to the dwarf and she can sense what Komani-Kun can sense. Blood and Fear surround the dwarf in such an amount that it would have taken a lifetime of evil act to create. The fear is tinged with sadness and loss, but not from him but by others. The blood is not his but has soaked him through the pores. Around him swirls a miasma of suffering and loathing, destruction and curiosity. She can feel Komainu-Kun lower his head. This one was a hunter. In many ways he was worse than an Oni.

Breaking the contact, the Empress felt a shiver go through her spine. She blinked softly and tilted her head towards her Watashi-boku. whispering softly. Sono I wa, kare no te ni ōku no chi o motte imasu. Koro no nai tangti wa kesu koto ga dekinai teido ni kare o torimaku yami ga arimasu. Komainu-kun wa kare o shinrai shihe inai, wareware wa riyū o shiritai koto o kare ni shiraseru. Watashitachi no hitobito no chi wa shinseideari, kare wa bujoku suru kihtien chikaku aruku koto o kare ni shiraseru.

DC25 Perception and Minkaian:

Face chilling, Kaori Inoue stares at the Empress. Nodding firmly Mineko Yamauchi waves her onward. Sighing softly she turns and addresses the white coated dwarf. The Granite Empress states that.. that she can see a great darkness on you. She says that there is a miasma that surrounds you. She says that there is more blood on your hands then many men could collect in a life time. She warns you that her celestial protector Komainu-Kun has seen your kind before. She says that the blood of her people is sacred and you walk dangerously close to insult. She warns to you be careful, for Komaninu-Kun is a mandate from the heavens and he does not trust you.

Suddenly feeling very angry Isoldda joins Komainiu in glaring at Dr. Logem, her yellow crooked teeth bared. Her teary, red rimmed eyes glare frank dislike at him. What a nasty c*cksucker! From all the dwarven blood he's seen? Sounds like a bloody darkie or sommut. Who would forgo magical healing to cut people open? A pervert, that's who. She levels one calloused, stone-like index finger at Dr. Logem and in her most drunken country accent says, "Whutt're you, some kinda PERVERT?!"

I know that Mineko speaks dwarven, it's obvious since she's not waiting for a translation. But Isoldda has an Int of 7 so...yeah...

Aww man, it's totally gonna outshine my worldwound game.

Pssssh! Noodle-arms! I carry my own alchemist's lab. :P

I spent all my leftover gold on an armored warhorse carrying 600 pints of Ironbloom Stout. Aka the mead steed. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to whistle and summon him from the street outside. :P Perhaps he will make his entrance bearing gifts for the Empress. We'll see how she reacts to a sweaty dirty peasant monk all up in her grille.

Too bad there are no bees underground or he would actually be bearing Ironbloom Mead. Maybe I will be able to find some bees in Arcadia to begin experimenting with. Then Meady could finally fulfill his namesake.

On the topic of what our combat characters bring to the table, I am planning on probably taking a level of Ranger (Trapper) at 4th level on Isoldda to get trapfinding and disable device. She's already got a good perception, after that she'll have stealth, survival, perception and traps covered. I'm hoping that if accepted she'll grow into a provider role for the group, hunting and scouting around their new settlement. On top of providing them with good brew. I want to wait until I get drunken Ki and see what kind of enemies we'll be fighting in Arcadia so I can choose my favored enemy properly.

Edit:I'm also heavily considering a rank in Craft (Carpentry) and Profession (Hunter) at some point.

Isoldda is dumbstruck by the entrance of the princess. It's just like the tales grandfather Beffuel used to tell of when his grandfather went to Minkai to learn the way of the Sacred Mountain. The foo lion especially captures her gaze, so much so that she barely even notices when Magnuss slithers out of her grip, or that the boys are fighting over her just the way she wanted.

She leaps to her feet, and brushing most of the detritus from her stout, blood and food stained robes makes her way over to then foreign entourage. Approaching from the front, she steps up next to the front rank of Mineko's servants and does the bow that her grandfather always made her do when they were practicing her forms. Placing her right fist against her left palm, she bows at a ninety degree angel from the waist. It's entirely inappropriate for a commoner to an empress, rather it is the bow of an apprentice towards their master. In fact, the dwarves from Tian Xia instantly recognize the cut and style of Isoldda's robes as one that was popular amongst monks four or five centuries ago in Minkai. Looking directly at Mineko, the smile of an enchanted little girl on her face, Isoldda says "Hello, empress! You're from Minkai right? I aint never seen anyone so purty before." Her smiles grows even wider as she creeps slowly forward towards Kokmainu-Kun and the empress herself. "What's his name?" Then, "Can you understand me big guy?" she asks, addressing the Eidolon directly. "Mind if I touch you? Are you a...a....poo lion?" Her forward movements have become almost automatic, her hands and fingers outstretched in a zombie like pose, as she follows her wide eyed gaze towards the Eidolon. OMFG! Sooooo cooooooooool. I wanna pretty dress just like that? I wonder if any of these guys practice martial arts? Real Minkaians???! Soooooo coooooooool. Her grin is somewhat manic as her grasping fingers come within a meter of Komainu-Kun's mane.

I'm guessing that Rob just wanted to stop the inflow of new dwarves. I think if you've already posted here then he'll probably accept you for consideration if you finish everything by the original deadline.

I just made a post going with the I flew over you thing. Not trying to hurt your character permanently. In fact mechanically I'd be grappling, not doing damage. Well, that's what I'm going for anyway.

see that's why I always say try to make contact after the elbow he drops and shes gonna go flying into a table. He's gonna need a moment to figure out how to breathe lol. He would be in the process of dropping when she tried that. She should just run up and kicked him. I fully expected to miss dwunder lol.

Magnus falls to his knees choking for a moment before falling to his hands and knees coughing up a bit of blood. About this time Isoldda goes flying over his head. He wonders when the other dwarf learned to fly not realizing it was an attack aimed at him. He slowly staggers back to his feet and looks at Dwunderbran and waves him on. Come on ye sissy what are b ya waiting on?

"Oh, duck will ye? Ye'll not get away that easy." Isoldda growls, now behind Magnuss who is faced off with Dwunderbran, and his tent-like trousers. She squares up with the white haired dwarf like a rugby player and jumps onto his back, kneeing the rears of his knees hard with her own to drop him halfway. An elbow between the shoulder blades drops Magnuss flat on his face, then Isoldda legs locks with him, and grabbing his arms yanks him up belly first into a surfboard hold. "Quick, somebody tickle him. Make him have fun!"

Considering I beat your CMD with rolled 8 (that and you provoke AOOs for both grappling and unarmed combat), I don't think it's too much to expect I get one over on you the second go. Isoldda just wants him to lighten up. That and he's ranting about oaths, with she hates. -_-*

LOL, I wish I had a wacom tablet or a scanner so I could draw some people too!

"F*ck it." is the utterance that breaks Isoldda's fugue state. She has held stock still, halfway out of her chair, face screwed up furiously in thought throughout the chaos of the brawl. Tankards, food, and dwarven flesh all flash past her eyes as she weighs the consequences of joining in. Finally there is no option but to join in.

Snorting at Daelric's standing in front of her in some misguided attempt to protect her, Isoldda springs into action. She vaults up off the bench and onto Daelric's shoulders. From there it is a short aerial front flip onto the top of Dwunderbran's shoulders. "Get yer pasty maggots offa my Dwundie! This got naught to ta doo with Kols or any other stick you might have up yer arse! This is about you being a wee stuffy white b*tch!" Springing off of Dwunderbran's shoulders, Isoldda slams into Magnuss in a diving crossbody pin. She knocks the white dwarf back down onto the floor, before nimbly hopping back to a crouch, and darting forward to get him in a jacknife hold. "How da ya like this oath?" she asks, joining Dwunderbran in releasing a rank, stout-scented fart into Magnus' face.

Feel free to throw me off and kick my ass now :P

Thought about it, but then decided I didn't want to go that route. I was thinking Catch Offguard and a beer stein as a weapon. But it's not gonna do as much damage as my unarmed attacks and I can't flurry with it.

As for throwing a barrel, I aint no donkey kong. If the barrel has beer in it I don't want to throw it, if the barrel is empty I want to fill it with beer, not break it :P

Isoldda is quiet for a few moments while Magnuss tells his tale and the others discuss it. Having her past failures brought up had put her into a bit of a funk. The crash of Dwunderbran's dive, and a chunk of unidentifiable ichor flying off his body onto the table in front of Isoldda snaps her out of her melancholic reverie. Ye gods a brawl! Isoldda is instinctively halfway to her feet before she stops suddenly, freezing. Standing as still as stone her face scrunches up into a painful thinking expression. Wait...I'm a guard....this is my lord's father's funeral...maaaaybe I shouldn't... Still holding stock still halfway out of her chair, her mug extended into the air, Isoldda's eyes dart back and forth between Vigar at the head table, the guards lining the walls, and the two brawling dwarves on the floor.

Trying to reflect a high wisdom idiot. More difficult that I thought it would be. Rob, how are the NPCs reacting to this brawl?

Nice one Celeador, it was worth the wait :)

I think my record was 32 or 34 once. I do not pity you Robert. I had to go through and like define categories and rate all the characters with 1-5 stars in each category before I was able to make a decision. A lot of APs with obviously competent DMs get into the 20s. It's a testament to your awesome that you've pulled in that many people with a personal idea.

Isoldda smiles and puts down one of the steins, taking the meat from Daelric. "It aint you. It's just one time I broke my oath..." She pauses for a second, choking up a bit. "Kols punished me by taking me Pa's life. Makes me sad's all." She takes a moment to gnaw a chunk off the leg of meat, with her mouth still quite full she continues, "Brewhingsh jusshht mah hoobbee. I'msh one o..." There is a brief pause and accompanying swallow break, "Vigar's guardsmen. Woman. Guardswoman." Finally something seems to register with Isoldda. She looks down to where Daelric squeezed her arm, and her cheeks turn red as she grins. It touches us! Yessssss! I R geniussss.

Alrighty. Off to bed for me, anything else will have to wait 12 hours or so.

Isoldda suddenly grows very serious as Daelric tells her about Kols. Her eyes go wide as saucers at some point during the explanation and they remain that way. What if Daelric is like Kols and Ivarsk if Grundinnar and then...holy shit! I'm Bolka!!!! This train of thought is interrupted by the mention of being punished for breaking oaths. Isoldda's posture immediately goes rigid and she withdraws her hand from Daelric. Her lip quivers a little as she says quietly, "Oh. I guess I did know about Kols..." The stonelord can see tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. As she furiously blinks and looks at the ceiling trying to will them away. Her eyes dart around fervently looking for an escape. Being walled in on all sides by sweating hairy flesh, food, and benches she finds none. Steins it is. She snatches up two cups and holds them up next to her head in a ridiculous attempt to conceal her watery eyes.

"I have built up my strength and constitution over the years as a miner, you need to be able to work long and hard to make sure you get the quota done. I am sure Shimon is just as strong too." Daelric's eyes subtly glance over to Dolgrin, Maven and Magnus, as if looking for help in this situation.

"I don't know what a shy-mon is. Anyway, why don't you tell me about this Kols you follow. I was never much for prayin' and temples and stuff." Isoldda continues, smiling, not removing her hand from his arm. Maybe if I pretend to be interested in something he likes, and I listen to his fancy voice fer long enough he'll touch me. Mmmmm...touches...we likes when they touches us...

A singing gets closer and closer to Daelric, until it is right in his ear and a hand appears on his shoulder as the singer shouts "Hoorah!" which makes Daelric jumps slightly. He looks up to see the woman who had been serving everyone, the one that that Vulgerbeard fellow seemed to like, "Umm, thank-you m'lady. I wouldn't say I am that handsome, but I do take great care and pride in my beard, as should all Dwarven men. Maybe it is the style that you are finding appealing?" It is hard to see behind the red beard and mustache, but upon a closer inspection you can see that Daelric is blushing. "Aye, I can't hold my drink and that is supposed to be a sign of a weak Dwarf, or so my brother always said. As for my voice ... it took me several years to remove the accent of Janderhoff, the problem with it was that sometimes the priests would struggle to understand me. So they gavce me lessons on how to speak properly, 2 hours every day until I got it right, took nearly 5 years!" With that Daelric bursts into laughter, a deep rumbling laughter, but not too loud as to distract others from their conversations or make them turn to look. There is a lot of joy in the laughter, obviously there were some fun times during the speech lessons.

Daelric looks around the room and spots Vulgerbeard, then looks back at Isoldda, "I thank-you for the compliments and the drink earlier. You seem able to hold your drink and it would seem you have gained an admirer, that Vulgerbeard fellow is looking at you again. He looks love-struck, as long as he doesn't try to fight me for your affections, it will be all good. You also look like you could hold yourself in a brawl, I wonder who would win between the two of you? Of course I hope it won't come to that."

"In a strait up brawl I reckon I could put 'im in the dirt. But I'd guess that if those axes he's got were involved I might find myself in trouble." Isoldda replies. Then placing one hand on Daelric's arm she continues, "You might drink like a little b*tch, but you don't look so weak. In fact, you look nice and strong." Her breath smells strongly of sout and garlic as she leans towards him, waggling her eyebrows flirtatiously. I hope Dwunderbran does want to fight over me. That'd be so hot...

Finished licking up her spilled ale, Isoldda smiles and nods in tune to Daelric, happy to see that the paladin seems to have recovered from his temporary stout induced mental disability. As his voice fades, she breaks into the final verse,

"Was that a pink elephant that just flew past?
Funny the shadows that cider kegs cast!
Pardon that noise, didn’t mean to offend
There’s no hic-up a good belch won’t mend

Laughing eyes wat’ry and heads a’ swimming
Look at your red nose dwarf! And stop that grinning!
We’ll stack them mugs unto the ceiling
Off their seats the dwarves are keeling

And all call:
O, ho, finish in one
Down, down
Until it’s all gone!

Hoorah!

Isoldda stumbles over to Daelric as she finishes singing, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You know, you're pretty handsome for a lightweight. Your voice is so strong and dwarfly..."

...."So we punch through the main gates and down the main tunnel to the hold's center where they've holed up, and we're covered on top and all sides by our...

"Aye, I know tunnel fighting well. Just from the other side of the shield-wall. Sergeant says I'm quiet as a gnome fart in space. I always get stuck walking a klick ahead of the others, trying to find the boogeymen before they find us. Nothing more terrifying than being buried up ta me teats in mud, with mushrooms in me ears, trying to pretend I'm a stone while a dozen demon-eyed darkies flit past jabbering in their spider-cunny jabbawock. Then again, there's nothing more thrilling than catching them in a pincer against a wall of good dwarven steel. Fire, blood and thunder rushing in yer ears, the sounds of darkie bones snapping like music in time with me fists and feet." Isoldda begins a sloppy and wild pantomime of a tunnel fight, spilling stout down her sleeve. "Oh shite!" she says, attempting to lick it all up before it drips off her elbow.

The gun wielding member of the seventh is apparently busy, or just has no tales to tell. So while she is waiting, Isoldda breaks into song..

"Gather thee dwarves, there’s cause for a bash
Tap all caskets and find us your stash
Who calls the round? Whose wallet is heavy?
How many pints can this tummy here levy?

Beer, cider, spirits and ales
Listen to the drunk dwarf tell his tall tales
Loosen your belts, cups in the air
The liquor flows free and the barrels won’t care

And all call:
O, ho, finish in one
Down, down
Until it’s all gone!

Hoorah!"

Her singing voice is horrible, tuneless and flat. It's the perfect female mate for Dwunderbran's earlier torture of the guest's ears.

Song's Source Someone else could take up the next verse? ;)

And Rasso ;) And Styvanus as Ivarsk.

Fixed, thanks!

Bi0philia and Robert, background is up in the alias. Let me know if you don't like any of the slight freedoms I took with the Skuldafn house/Vigar's personality.

Isoldda appears to have been captivated by the tale. She leans in chin on her upturned palms, eyes batting at Rockjaw. She jumps back with a "Torag's b!+++*@s!" when the heavily armored dwarf yells 'by thundar!' After he finishes her eyes go wide "Woowww. I wish I had flails instead of eyeballs, that would be AWESOME!" she says, swinging her arms around in a vague imitation of what she imagines they would look like. "So, skull-shield, what about you?"

This being the third time I've tried to engage Edrukk in conversation. I'll be sad if he doesn't respond. Granted I haven't used his name once because he hasn't told it to Isoldda yet.

So I was looking for more alcohol related feats, and I came across fast drinker. That's pretty much an essential for her, so I had to bump con up to 18, which means she's now much dumber (actually kinda fits how I've been RPing her) and even more brassy and socially clueless.

Isoldda's eyes begin to glaze over as most of the table starts conversing about geneology. Turning to Rockjaw and Edrukk she says, "You two are both seventh right? Got any good tales of battle? All this talk of family lines and honor is making me sleepy. Or maybe that's the gallon of stout I drank." She shrugs, then attends to the two soldiers, hoping for a tale or two.

Almost done with Isoldda's background. I vomited it all out onto virtual paper. I just need to edit it when I get home from work tonight.

Seeing the look on Quint's face Isoldda asks, "What's wrong?....Did someone fart again!?"

Angrin laughs. "Aye, as much as any o' Varrok's Deep. Well," he corrects himself, "Less'n some others, but I kin use me rapier with a fair hand, and I ne'er was a poor shot wit' my crossbow." He gestures to each weapon, respectively. "I'm more o' a tactician, I like to think. I do so loves me some traps." His eyes glitter. "Wait until ye hear this 'un. I was goin' down into the Darklands -terrible place, by the way- to git the Deep's priests an ol' relic o' Folgrit's priesthood. Some o' the blasted elves were already in the ruins where it was at, though, so I had to lead 'em on a merry chase..."

He goes on to describe how he led them through the tunnels into a variety of traps and pratfalls (he bursts out laughing as he remembers the expressions on their faces when he jury-rigged a trap that flung a piece of animal dung at their leader), until he finally ran by what he recognized as a room of great importance in the temple itself.

"So, there I was, standin' outside a big durned door, with drow breathin' down me neck, and wonderin' whether I dared try to open it an' let them in." He pauses, eyes glittering and a tight grin on his face. "Then I saw the trigger. It wasn't big, but it clued me in that there might be a few traps on the door I could use. So I picked the lock without the trap goin' off, pushed the door open slightly, an' bolted off behind a stalagmite. The drow came 'round the bloody corner, thought I went in, and entered." He grins viciously. "I dunno what happened in there, but I heard a lot o' screamin' as soon as the door shut behind 'em on its own. Fortunately, it did close behind 'em on its own... Otherwise, I'd never've come back. Figured out it was a damned death room!" He shudders.

Imagining a group of drow being ground to jelly in a room of dwarven traps and a matron with animal sh*te all over her face, Isoldda can't help but break into bold laughter once again. "You are a clever dwarf indeed master Angrin. I probably would have died in front o' that door, but ye can bet it'd be on a pile of knife-eared corpses, and a fresh coat of darkie blood paint on me robes!"

"I grew up a few miles from here. We've got an ironbloom farm on an old abandoned vein under Highhelm. Far away from everythin' worth anythin', and swarmin' with darkies and green skins, but hey, it's home." Isoldda replies to Angrin, then when he asks about Hraggir she says, "Never really knew the man. Vigar's more in my ken. Great man he is. I've served in the Skuldafn house guard these past few years. Without him we wouldn't be drinking this brew!" The dwarfess' eyes go wide with pretend horror at the thought, before she drains another mug. "Real shame those darkies burned yer brew. I was hopin' to sample someone else's wares tonight. Enough with talk of the gods damned dead. Are we not here to celebrate life? Come on with a tale of battle! Or are you not a warrior master Angrin?"

Iwould like to point out that while Isoldda can't disable traps, she's good at spotting things. She's also sneaky and a good tracker.

Angrin grimaces at Isoldda. "I only wish. Me last vats o' the stuff were burned by the bloody drow. I didn't have any time t' brew some more, either 'fore the news came." He goes grim, thinking of the vengeance he would wreak on the blasted betrayer. Anger surges in him, but he keeps it under control. "But I'll be more than happy to make some o' the stuff when I get it back up an' runnin'."

At the song, he winces a little. He wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to find appreciation of its artistic merit, but what really stunned him was the question that followed. "Oi! Who asked that?" He looked around, eyes hard. Noticing Vulgarbeard, he makes an obscene gesture in his direction. "It's still too early, y'idiot! Ye shouldn't be that drunk yet!"

At first Isoldda is listening to Angrin's reply, and about to make a comment about the damned darkies, then Dwunderbran's song begins. At first she is enjoying it despite the poor singing, but when the question is shout even she looks shocked. She stares at Dwunderbran, incredulity carved into her features. "I thought I was ignorant. Damn." Seeing the priest drag the imbecile away, she turns to Angrin "So, what kind of beer do you brew normally? We use the ironbloom mushroom and oats."

When her brother arrives...

"IVARSK!" Isoldda says, flying through the air to nearly tackle him, stein first. After a great bear hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek she continues, "You finally made it bro. I was waiting for you forEVER!"

When first Angrin and then Dolgrin attributes her brew to her brother...

"Oi, Torag-pants! That's my brew, mister. My stoic sibling here just handles the bidness end. Iffin you want someone's arse to kiss over it, I'll gladly proffer mine." Isoldda loudly corrects the priest, finishing by bending over and waggling her bum at him. But only for a second. "Just kidding. Glad you like it though, it'll put a right shine on yer beard." Turning to Angrin she says, "A fellow brewer? Did you bring any of your wares for us to sample lad? Like I said to the priest there. I'm the brains behind Ironbloom Stout. Ivarsk here just stacks up the money." She gives Ivarsk an elbow and wink.

Dwunderbran Vulgarbeard wrote:

It would be cool if there were a multi-campaign/multi-DM (but a semantic nightmare, likely) setup for a setting with this premise; multiple colonies getting founded but developing separately and uniquely. Then there could be bleed-over interplay between the different settlements down the road. And lemming cannons upon each wall. EACH AND EVERY WALL.

I had that exact same idea actually! It would be a logistics nightmare, but man its an awesome idea nonetheless. My thoughts were different nations, not just dwarves, though. And there would be numerous NPC-colonies being founded (Ran entirely by the DM in the background) that the different groups of players would have to interract with.

Sounds like a redonkulous amount of work. I did something similar in my worldwound sandbox game, and ended up running into all sorts of issues. So I combined the two groups into one eventually.

"Aye aye aye." Isoldda mutters, keeping steady streams of stout heading towards herself, Dwunderbran and Daelric. It begins to resemble a form of juggling as she manages the mugs, the keg, gesticulates and talks all at the same time. Somehow she makes it look practiced and easy. "There, there Daelric. It sounds like that Nichosh was a right fine fellow. Right fine. He died in battle protecting his kin, what more can a dwarf ask for? That he has such good friends that they've already avenged him, well he's in peerless company. To Nicosh!" She hoists her mug in an impromptu toast. "All ye can do now is what you already done. Namely, put a hatin' on every puss-skinned, tusky pig f*cker to ever wriggle it's way free of Gorrum's arseh*le!" Then she starts laughing. A lot.

Daelric hears the snickering but his head hurts too much to care, he turns to face Isoldda, "Shome water would be grand pleashe. Shomething to shtop thish Orc warhorn blowin' in ma head! Whatish in d'at shtuff?!"

He looks around for water again until he realizes that Isoldda was asking for his name, "Name'sh Daelri"*hiccup*"c, Daelric Morieth."

"Well Daelric, the only water I got is in this stout. Here ya are, drink enough and the orc horns will stop." Isoldda replies to the paladin, handing him another full mug of the Ironbloom.

Isoldda blinks far too many times very rapidly while looking at Dwunderbran. "Thanks...? If ye follow me while I'm on guard duty, you'll need ta bathe first. Lordly types don't 'ppreciate the smell of filth."