Hello - just wanted to say; I love Dark Sun and Athas, this is great! :)
Search Posts
Khromm’s somewhat genial attitude has now evaporated. First colored by outright bafflement – then, when it slowly dawns on him that this statement is somehow a critique of his actions, rather then an assessment of truth – his bafflement gives way to his usual flat expression. ”First – I was contracted to hunt down southern smugglers and fight them – killing them if necessary – with the understanding that my services were based on a percentage of what we found – specifically; ten percent. I fulfilled my part of the deal – so yes, I expect to get paid.” ”And you’re damn right I profit over another’s misfortune. How else can you expect to survive? Trust to people’s generosity and good will? That’s a lot of kank dung. Everybody that walks this earth is only able to because they grind the ground under their feet. And as for enslavement? Faugh! A slave is someone who doesn’t have what it takes to get free. I was a slave – and I killed my way to freedom. If drugs make a man a slave – then too bad; it just means they don’t have the spirit to fight.” Khromm reaches his hand to his sword and draws it out, turning it so the light flashes on the blade. He taps the edge – ”This is what got me free – this! Steel – and the muscle and wits to use it. There was no gods that swooped in to deliver me – I did it – me! If a god doesn’t like what I do – and sees fit to come in and damn me proper I’ll take notice, perhaps – because they sure as hell didn’t magic themselves into my slave pen to break my chains.” ”And I’ll tell you this – if the only way you can get a god’s attention is to piss one off – then you can just chalk this whole line of speech to my version of prayer – because not even the nicest words out of my mouth got me any kind of return from a god – ever.” He stabs the sword deep back into his sheath. ”Now – as for who gets what, or how these things are formally distributed? I have no idea – that’s up to the lords of the land – and, so far, the only one who’s got any kind of say in the matter is this “general” – but it sounds like this whole thing will have to go back to some sort of committee when we get back. Fine – then the sooner we get back, the better it will be. I did my job – I expect to be well paid,” he adds.
Gazing back and forth between Khromm and the General with an astonished look, she beseeches "You would think to distribute these narcotics among your general populace? I did advise you they were highly addictive and you would still sell this to your people, knowing what harm it could do and what it could lead to long term?" She expected the Mul to be all about the coin but not a General who was tasked with the protection of an entire city, a good city. "Bah - dream potions are no more problematic then palm wine! So a man cannot stop himself from the lust and need of something in his body; be it wine, women, sorcery - or even this drug. They shouldn't dabble with such things if they cannot handle the hunger it awakens in them. And if the weak cannot abstain and give themselves over to the drug - then they are the greater fools for it. Why should we not profit from their foolishness, then? Tavern keepers ply men with ale - pimps use whores - and casino owners use the lust for gaming to earn their coin. So what's wrong with that? This town has bartenders, gamblers and men with needs. If men have vices - why not use them to further our own profit?" Khromm is - again - not trying to be rude - but he is genuinely shocked at this stance. He sees no issue with making money - and finding a person's vice - and using to profit - seems, to him - nothing but good business. He does seem very surprised that the town does not attempt to manipulate coin from its citizens, and even more - that a citizen would not only know this, but except this - and, of course - fight it with their entire being. Khromm seems to have an inherent belief that everyone is out for something else - that everyone is trying "play an angle" - to get ahead of someone - to use someone for their own agenda. That is just what makes sense to him - and, armed with this suspicion - he feels that anyone who doesn't choose to act on this obvious knowledge on how the world works deserves the fate that is handed to them. To him - it is the citizen's duty to protect themselves from the wiles of the government - and every person's personal duty to protect themselves from the abuses that everyone that they live with. That does not seem too unusual for person like Khromm - a being that was specifically bred for the purpose of slavery - was raised as a slave - until he managed to kill his way to freedom. In any case - he seems to be a strong supporter of the idea of "everyone is predator or prey", and does not intend to allow himself to become "prey" - but, now you have a better idea on why he may have the attitude that he does. In any case - he is not trying to be rude or manipulative - he is sincerely confused why you shouldn't use a potent and addictive narcotic to make extra money - it seems fairly logical - and very profitable. At least - that is his opinion...
Khromm looks from Isani - then back to Kae. "Well - if you're some sort of authority figure - then what you say is law," he says bluntly to Kae. "Good, let's make it easy, then. For now it seems that the best thing is to just give me the ten percent of raw materials - I can sell it for whatever I can get. I'm supposed to get 10 percent - that's the deal. Fine - you have two magical items of value - I'll take my cut of their value after the sale - as for the rest? It's all divided up pretty neat - I can take my 10 percent of the dreaming drug - or whatever you people call poppy potions up here - one of each of those stacks of coin, since there's 10 stacks of each type - and as for all the rest of the other material - we can sell that in town, gather up the coin - and I'll just take my cut of it then," he adds in a flat voice. "I can be patient on the value of the magic items - but it will speed things up a lot if you just give me the 10 percent of the potions and the poppy sap now. Who knows - maybe I can get a better deal then you - or maybe you'll get a better deal then me - depending on how you bargain - you may actually do better then I do with regards to selling the drug; and I may be out of luck when it comes to the coin."
"Good - so how much is the value of one of these balls of sap? While I'm at it - how much is one of the vials of that liquid worth?"
Khromm looks over the total gear and nods appreciatively – especially after hearing the use of the crystal. But his interest seems to be more professional then curious for their use. ”That’s fine – how much is it? I want to know what my cut is – not to mention the cut of the usual nonsense; the weapons, the gear, the horses; and the value of the crystal, those little white potions, those waxy balls, and the value of that witchy looking dagger. If there’s a use to it – there’s a price for it. Good - I want my cut of it,” he adds, in a polite but unshakeable voice.
Khromm lets out a sigh at the two attackers – they have not managed to hit the man in front of him – he decides that he is going to attack the enemy next. He takes a 5 foot step so he can flank with Garith. He takes his two attacks – Attack 1
IF he hits –
IF he hits - +12 damage... Attacks 2
IF he hits –
Attack –
IF he hits
Khromm says nothing to you at this time, but unslings his bow and is prepared to take a shot at the horse. Regrettably – he is at a -8 penalty to shoot – as he is shooting from horse back – and the enemy is somewhat far away – giving him another penalty to hit. Khromm kicks his horse forward a bit faster – and the horse is now moved a little closer – the enemy now being about 400 feet ahead, rather then 600. His horse is panting heavily – not used to such effort – Khromm aims and takes his shot against the horse – this puts him at another -8, for a total of -16 to hit. The horse does not have armor – nor does it have AC bonus, as Garith pointed out – the horse is currently unaware of an attack – so it does not get its AC bonus; and, of course – Khromm does get his sneak attack bonus. Let’s see what happens – First - Khromm must make a general ride check to see if he can shoot from Horse back -
Khromm's attack Roll - : It seems that the game does not allow you to make "minus's" to the roll. That said - whatever is rolled - subtract 6 from it. "Flat Footed" War Horses have an AC of 11. IF he hits –
Khromm's advantages come because he is going to try to "push" his horses forward - Horse's Dexterity Check for advancing faster... - the horse is now "technically" 2 feet farther ahead then it was - Meanwhile his efforts to run his horse hard shall cause the beast to be come "Winded" in rounds.
"Bah - you did not listen, "captain" - there were two riders that went south - by all accounts! But - as you wish - we strike south east!" Khromm retorts, then swings himself into the saddle and kicks his mount into a fast gallop for the south east... He spares no backward glance - trusting to Garith and his men to come with him...
Khromm tacks his course hard and fast - but he is less interested in the riders right now then the pack horses. "Who cares for the riders - we have gear here to take!" Seeing your look, and how you seem more eager to charge after the riders, he rolls his eyes then lets out a frustrated sigh. Slipping off the horse - he moves slowly to one of the horses, quietly and slowly - so as not to spook the horse. When he gets less then 5 feet from the beast, he punches it hard in the head. The horse neighs in pain, then collapses to the ground - unconscious. "I'll search that one later," he mutters. Then, he glances around him, then peers hard at the ground. "I'd warrant that the riders split up in many directions to stab forth and be that much harder to track. The tracks are confused and scattered here - we could hunt them - but who? Which rider - the flying one there is after those riders," he says waving his hand at Laz on the horizon... "Yet - there are other sets of tracks - two sets run to the south - one set to south east... You're some kind of authority figure with this township - which do you want us to follow?" he says flatly, turning to Garith.
Khromm grunts, and grabs the nearest horse – swinging himself into the saddle, his face grim and cold. He spits once at the Ifrit. ”Kuss Ummak” he barks out at him, drawing a blush from Isani. Then he kicks the horse into a gallop and moves south down the canyon that enters this small rocky valley. Khromm is willing to use to – if Garith and his men can toss up their aid checks – that would be good – as they can roll to aid in tracking. But remember – Khromm is moving at speed, from horse – which means that he will have penalties; so too will your men, when they roll. Kae – if you can’t do this now – would you like another to do it for you during the weekend? The ground is “hard” – and Khromm is moving at normal speed (this gives you a base of 20 + 5 for normal speed – however – there are penalties for the enemy – who, at the least – have “Large” animals – the aid of Garith and his men could be helpful – if they have it). Survival to Roll -
Seeing that you have entangled the "wizard" - Khromm is now forced to act against the bodyguard in front of the wizard. Growling - he runs the 30 feet to attack the bodyguard; hitting him twice - or trying to. Attack 1
IF he hits -
Attack 2
Okay - now the bodyguard is dead - and only the mysterious robed man is alive (well - that and the other two men climbing toward Shaezon and Galen - but none of you but Shaezon and Galen can see them - for now).
Khromm has lost all patience – and is literally flinging himself off the cliff to grapple with the guy on the horse. To do this – he must jump the 40 feet – take falling damage – avoid any Acrobatics check to negate falling damage – make the grapple check with the guy on the way down – and (if he manages to succeed) pull the guy off his horse. Both the enemy on the ground – and Khromm – will then be prone. But – at this point – Khromm doesn’t give a frak! So… Khromm’s Grapple Check – (needs to hit an 20 CMD)
Khromm has taken 20damage – and he and the enemy are now prone. The enemy is also currently Grappled by Khromm.
Khromm goes last - and is forced to move to AB:42 - he would move at a double move - but has to climb some of the cliffs to get further down. This is as far as he can go - for now... He is moving closer, though.
"I too believe the robed figures could possess magic and you are correct that we should priortise their capture, for without leaders followers tend to scatter or submit. I wonder, however, if they are connected to this Osirion ring that the Council has spoken of, they may be prepared for such an attack and it may be harder to take them down--those two may be magically enhanced or warded. We could attempt to reason with these people, give them an opportunity to redeem their ways, but we must ensure they will not harm us first. If we rain fireballs down upon them and they hit a wagon with the pesh and opium shipment, the smoke will make things rather difficult for our people on the ground -- for they too may be affected by the hallucinogenics. In addition, I thought we had established that we require the opium for medicinal purposes -- anesthesia for pain, so we cannot waste it. Is your aim true, wizard?" "In this I am the witch are of like mind," Khromm adds grimly. "What good is it to destroy the enemy with the very wealth we're here to seize? If the goods are valuable, and you say they are - why shouldn't we take them for our own - how else can we get paid?" he adds, glancing to Isani with a agreeable nod. "None of us our sure which horses house the most valuable gear - if we strike it - and destroy it - we've wasted the best part of this venture," he adds, referencing the value of the loot.
"Bah - don't be naive! You don't need to "force them" into the bottleneck - that's the only way they can travel if they're making for yon cave," Khromm says with a jerk of his thumb to the cave above you. "And where else would they go? It's perfect shelter - big enough to get some horses inside - redistribute their wealth and gear - then break into smaller parties and head into your capital with it discreetly. Now that they have the big haul so close - they can afford to separate a bit - and come back and forth between here and the town for "resupply". Hell - even if you raided their homes, you'd probably only find a small amount - that cave is likely where they keep the big stash, and likely where they're headed." "If we have our cover protection in the form of archers arrayed properly in discrete positions, our melee fighters hidden with stealth to close the gap - our spellcasters within range but in safety - we can then allow them to advance past the mid-point, use the range fighters to cause a panic with arrows - when they're confused and turn to flee all in a panic the melee fighters can swing out on each flank and cut them off, at the pass, mind you - and in the general fracas the spellcasters can use what vile sorcery they command to crush them from afar even as they attempt to discover what hit them so hard and fast," he adds. "Indeed - it's almost too easy!" he says with a grim nod, drawing a blade and running his thumb over the edge.
Khromm looks around at the width and depth of the canyon, his eyes narrow as he takes things in. ”Best thing first,” he says turning to Shaezon. ”Elf – you’re skilled with magic?” he asks, as if he is positively baffled that an elf would have any knowledge or experience with magic – with the exception of simply overhearing about bits of lore and random knowledge - not unlike a bard... Before Shaezon can answer, Khromm juts his chin forward at Mister. ”If you can talk with your beast – in that I know our own elves are skilled; speaking with beasts and all,” Khromm says. ”You can send it flying up – scout out where the bandit types are coming – if we have some time – we can better set up. They probably won’t notice a thing in the air – and if they see it – what of it? There are many birds and beasts in these hills – its doubtful they’ll attach the presence of your creature with us.” Once we see the direction they are coming from – then we will be better suited to put ourselves in a position to kill our enemies,” he adds with a shrug. ”But – I would think one of the better places would be that rock pillar yonder,” he says – gesturing to the pillar at . ”From there we’ll be out of reach of their melee types – we can have our own footmen at the surrounding cliffs – when the enemy approaches – depending on what angle – we lead them to the north of the pillar – or let them ride that way – then move in behind them to flank and pin them – while those on the pillar can rain arrows or whatever sorcery they have on them that come,” he adds. ”But then – that all depends on what the little winged Jhozal said,” Khromm says, indicating Mister – but sense this statement is not derogatory – he is not being rude, you’d gather – but he is actually trying to describe something, though you don’t know what a “Jhozal” is… most likely a southern thing. ”When I know more on his vision – I’ll know what I want to do next,” he adds.
Khromm turns and sees the humans - his eyes narrowing as he looks them over, then turns to look at Kae. "One tenth of the treasure is one tenth of the total portion, half-elf," he adds, his eyes narrowing somewhat. Khromm has had enough dealing with half-elves in the southlands to remember 2 basic facts. 1. Desert Elves are one of the most distrusted of races - they are naturally nomadic with an inherent wanderlust - a fierce sense of tribal loyalty that binds families together and excludes anyone from the tribe by necessity of survival - excepting of course when business is afoot - in which case their ruthless desire to live is translated from sword play into business haggling - and they will generally outmaneuver anyone in matters of trade or business who is not of their tribe. 2. Since every other race knows this - every other race generally distrusts elves, and for good reasons - when it comes to business. But half-elves are worse - because they are hated because of their elven blood - and their own kind turns their back on them for they are - by definition - not of the tribe. As such - the ruthless desire to survive translated into business practices and sly cunning of the elves is trebled in a half-elf - who has to outfox not only his human companions - but also his elven ones. In short - when it comes to business deals - Khromm is more suspicious of Kae then Arasmes - half-elves are born tricky, and have been bred to be even more so as they age - and with the half-elf suddenly bringing in new troops - this seems to confirm his suspicions that the "cut" may be diminished somewhat... However - Khromm merely communicates these thoughts with a brief glance and a grunt.
Khromm glances to Isani - sensing her inward scowl - and nods to himself - knowing that she must be planning something both devious - and (probably) - "witch-like". Yet - he says nothing aloud on the matter...
"Alright then - enough all this sodding around! When do we leave, eh?" Khromm adds, and, as the party has no reason to dally - they say nothing, but follow his lead and proceed north.
Khromm needs no puny gear - he has all that he needs on his own back! His arms - his wits, and his muscle - those alone will see him through the day! Meanwhile - when will the rest of you start posting your actions on the trail? Khromm is impatient - and demands action!
Response to Brett's Suggestions Khromm cares not for puny meetings! He shall leave the council – head to one of these rooms in this "Cloudwatch Keep" – and, by the gods - he shall sleep well! If the party will hire him for work on the trail – he will come – and he will fight well – and kill well – and destroy any who he wishes that stand before him!
Having listened to Khromm's account of the slaver's city, Ry turns to the Mul and asks simply, "This place sounds like it is not only guarded but well organised. How did you manage to get in and out without attracting attention, being questioned or caught? Is there a secret access point into the place or one less manned? Or do you have a special skill at entering and leaving a guarded fortress, Khromm?" Khromm glances at Ariarh, and shrugs. ”There is little trick to entering or exiting the place. The wall is sturdy, aye – but the gate is loosely guarded, and there is only one gate. It’s roughly twenty feet in width, and maybe twenty in height, with solid doors. They generally leave the doors open, and have a few men about – perhaps six or seven at a time – and there is a small tower – possibly thirty or forty feet near the gate. They’d see an army riding up, bolt the gate, and muster troops – if you sent one. And if you decided to send a group of people to the gate – a few, perhaps – you probably can just ride right in – but, if you do – and they don’t recognize you – they may try to stop you and kill you. Or they may try to take you to their boss for questioning – we got quite a few human mercenaries who joined up as slave catchers – they rode in, looked around for work – and were pointed to the headman’s office – not the boss, mind you – but a filthy little desert dwarf who’d hire them and give them pay for work.” ”Now – as for trying to leave – if you work for them, you can come and go as you please, if you’re on a job and they know you. But if you’re slave who tries to leave – well then they will try to kill you. And, even if you are able to escape – well, as I said – what keeps most folk in check is the fear that their families will suffer some ill fate if they can leave and their kinfolk remain.” ”For myself – I did slave catching work for a bit – my job was to round up any who would try to leave, despite their families; or any in the fields who ran off anyhow. As for the lads who run things in there? If you're looking for work - well – they’re free in their distribution of gold for payment, to a point – but they rather pay in Pesh, hemp, opium, alcohol and women. Huh! No thanks! I want gold – if I have it, the rest come – but I don’t have need for getting paid in the loot they were pushing. Still – what could I do? I was bound by a deal to finish my contract to the end of the month – I don’t break deals – so I did my job, never mind my opinion. That’s what I do – the job I’ve been contracted to,” he says simply and emphatically – as if disagreeing with this idea was beyond his comprehension. ”Now – they wanted me to keep working – they told me I was doing well and they would offer me bonuses if I continued – I had no taste for it, but said nothing about that. Instead – as my month concluded, I deliberately had myself on the trail ten miles west of the town – and the day the contract was done? Well, I told them I was finished with them, whether they liked it or not! If it pleases you, the few guards who protested were killed easily, and with relish I might add,” he adds casually. This seems rather surprising – Khromm is – by his own admission – admitting that he once worked for these people as a slave catcher. And though he does not do so now – it is certainly not very pleasant news. Clearly he did not favor the task – and was... was forced to make the best of a bad situation? Still… It does not please any of you to know this information about him, excepting of course in the matter of knowing that Khromm – once committed to a task – will not deviate from his task – even if he himself would not wish to continue. Also – his hunger for gold is surprising in the extreme. Yet you suddenly recall that it is not so outrageous, and it is not that uncommon for the Dwarven folk, even in the north, to be so obsessed with gold over other potential prizes. And Khromm is part Dwarf. It takes you a bit to digest this tremendous diversion in attitude; that money and contracts are more important to a Dwarf blooded type then his own personal moral convictions. That business and commerce are the pinnacle of honor – but it seems that racial cultures are different animals – both in nations and in the various Sentient Species – such as Dwarves and Men and Elves. Still – however he was encouraged to join this organization – you can see that he did not like the job. But his “Mulish” qualities would not allow him to quit the job… However, toward that end – it seems the moment his task was complete, as he did not like the job, but still did the work anyway – the minute the contract ended - as he did not like the people - he had no compulsions about killing his former allies! You wonder, then – where this leaves him, with you – as an ally in a task he may not like? This may be good information to docket for later…
Khromm walks in and drops himself into one of the chairs. In his hand is the scroll he’s been working on – it’s covered with various notes – including some basic sketching of the town itself. ”Right,” he adds with a heavy grunt as he sits down. ”First things first – the town’s located roughly here – “ he adds, pointing his blunt finger on the map. You can see that there is a crude line diverting from the canyons that Laz, Isani, Clari and Khromm met. It moves in a fairly steady westerly direction. ”About six or seven miles from those canyons we met at is this town. When you head west you’ll gradually go up and up over some higher hills. Suddenly – you come over a ridge into a wide valley. The valley itself is – for the most part – heavily wooded. The woods are thick leaved, and it’s damn hot – so much so that you can see steams rising from the woods,” he adds. ”The woods flank the entire place – except for the hills you travel on. But, when you move down the hills toward the forest itself – and the town – you are forced to move through a vast expanse of naked rock and broken terrain. Bad country – hard to get horses through – except up a fairly well maintained road. The road is pebbly – but it cleared of much of the bigger boulders and so forth – and it is generally watched by guardsmen and such.” ”The town itself has a rough wall around it – but the wall is made of bricks. The bricks are made of mud – the slaves take buckets of the slop – dump it into heavy places of wooden slats, bake ‘em under the sun – then pull apart the slats and use the mud to build brick. So the bricks aren’t stone – and they’re not too tough – hard to get over, and hard to get by for a slave – not impossible to break through or in – but it’s a lot easier to deal with then stone. I reckon they don’t use stone on account of the fact that’s too hard to cut – they got other uses for the slaves.” Khromm rolls his head from side to side a little, easing some tension in his neck. ”Slaves – speaking of which – they got about… five-thousand of them,” he adds. ”Most of them be newly brought colonist-types,” Khromm says – ”like yourself,” he adds to Isani. ”Woman and children – they prefer family types – it’s easier to manipulate people if you have their wife or husband to use,” he adds neutrally. ”The city itself is situated around a large stone building – kind of like a ziggurat – but it doesn’t look finished yet. At the base of it – toward the western end, facing the forest – is the headquarters of the chief – and his lackeys,” Khromm adds. ”The opposite side of the ziggurat building is where the warehouses are – holding of loot, food – supplies for slaves, and so forth,” Khromm continues. ”For all of this – they have a lot of toughs that live there – guards and so on,” Khromm adds. ”The main boss of the place is some kind of a priest – they say he worships one of these “gods before gods” – some of the slaves say it, as it is – though you don’t see him much. His name is – they say he comes from Osirion too; but no one really sees him – only his priest flunkies,” Khromm says, picking up the first drink of the table and drinking deeply. ”His priests don’t worship gods – they worship him, they say. He’s not around mostly – but he’s there – tough and mean, they say – and his priests draw power from him. His symbol is a black snake – but I don’t know about religion – and I never paid it no mind,” he adds, polishing off whoever’s drink it was. ”Of priests and such – they aren’t just priests. They’re handy with weapons, too – they’ve done fighting before, I’d gather. Most of their weapons are southern type – curved blades and such – but they also use garrotes and favor types of poisons; most of the poison paralyzes – they don’t like to waste slaves. I’ve seen about twenty of them around the town.” ”They have special elite bodyguard types –10 of them – I don’t want to mess with one alone – they’re all tough basterds – gladiators – and besides that – they’re fairly vicious. I’ve seen three half-giants in with them – you don’t want to mess with them on a good day – but when they have proper training? Gods!” ”The cavalry that rides around the place – slave catchers, outriders – that sort of thing I’ve counted roughly 100 of them. Very fierce, very deadly – very dangerous.” ”The regular freeman – that is – muscle type that runs the slaves – of them there’s only about 400 or so – but they’re tough – desert bred sorts – and they’re good killers – they’re better then what your militia has – I can tell you that now. Though most of them are equipped light – curved blades, light armor – short spears – but they’re still tough. Of course – anyone with a little skill with a blade for real – or magic – should give good odds – I’d say – three to one on them verses any of us,” he adds with a belch. ”The real trouble is that they’re all inside the walled gates – the walls are about twelve feet in height – so you can’t go charging in – but they’re only about two feet thick. Big enough that you can’t knock over by yourself – but a ram could with some ease.” ”I’ve seen the priest types – they’re fanatics – and they can do things to people – warp their brain, and kill a man with a spell as he stand – I don’t know where they get their powers, and I don’t know what they do for prayer – but they have power,” he says. ”For actual buildings – other then ziggurat and the mansion for the chief – I’ve seen warehouses – tenets for the slaves – I’ve seen an – er, uh – the ziggurat.” ”You want to take this place – you got to figure on at least dealing with all that – but it does have some potential rewards – if you can get it – no telling what loot and magic is inside the base camp, and if you free the slaves – they may be happy to join those who free them.” ”Now – as for the actual trouble with this place – why it’s there – I don’t know. I wasn’t a slave – but I did see them sending groups of men with outriders and some guards into expeditions into this forest – but it was an odd forest – as I said – the waters from all your rivers poured into it – the farther down you went – the wetter it got – and the hotter, too… steams and fogs and such – and strange creatures there – almost like Halfling country from down south,” Khromm adds.
”I don’t know what they do in the valley – the men folk – but they do it because the woman and children are forced to stay in the grounds – making bricks – taking care of some cattle – they prefer beef – and have some cattle their – but also swine – as the little muckrakers will eat anything, including dung – and so forth. You might be able to free some men in this wet forest – but even if you do – they may turn on you anyhow – on account of the fact they’re afraid of what may happen to their woman-folk in the city, if anyone goes against the bosses wishes,” he adds. ”So – that’s it on the facts – I can give you better locations on what is where soon – when we get closer to it – or if you need it now. Meantime – do you have any other specific questions I can answer – anything I may have forgotten or not bothered with – I’ll answer it, if I can – no matter how fool of a question it may seem. That’s the deal – right? I tell you all I know – and all you want to know, if I know it,” he adds, very seriously.
Khromm leans back, suddenly aware of Isani's very delectable curves and features - as if seeing them for the first time. Still - he stifles his thoughts on that matter, and shrugs with a grunt. "Huh - if they're false - then we kill them. For now they've done nothing to earn my ire - but they seem far too trusting." "In the south we know that a man who trusts overmuch is one who hasn't seen things to doubt. So - they're not used to dark things - they give people the benefit of the doubt, and that means they haven't seen darkness in full power - else they'd be more nervous," he adds with a bored sigh. "But - as they aren't more afraid; of us, or seemingly anything - which I think means it's damn likely that they just haven't seen much darkness. Evil folk are near bathed in darkness - and, as these folk are so trusting, and removed from darkness - I don't think we've got much to worry about from them, as if that matters," he adds with a shrug.
Arasmes thinks for a moment before saying Fair enough. How is this? We will give you 750 pieces of gold up front and then depending upon how much information you give us, you can get up to an additional 1000 pieces of gold for a complete description like what you previously stated. In addition, we can use you as an armsman that reports directly to the council for use in various tasks that we set you. For that position we can come up with a salary with the council. Is that agreeable to you? Khromm looks at the empty beer glass with a frown. "Hmm... make it a guarantee of a thousand up front - and the other thousand after you see what I got, providing you think it's worth it. As to that? Well, I'll trust to your word on if you think it's worth the full second thousand - but know that I don't break contracts! I expect the same treatment from you on that matter. So - I'll give you all you need to know, or all I do know - and I won't hold nothing back. But I want the two thousand if it's worth it too you; but at the very least the first thousand for sure," he says with a stern tone, but mild eyes. To our desert friends: You recall vaguely hearing rumors that the blending of the single-minded attitude of dwarves with the independent wanderlust of humans has produced a strange offshoot in these "half-dwarf" types. A half-dwarf, or "Mul" - is often considered somewhat psychologically unstable when it comes to what is commonly called its "Purpose". When such a creature discovers a purpose - it becomes single-minded to a fault - and absolutely will not deviate from completing the task, to the point of obsession. You would wager that, despite Khromm's attachment to coin and whoring - his "purpose" - his drive - this seems to be making sure he never deviates from a contract - or deals with any who does. You are quite confident - now - that with regards to fulfilling his side of the arrangement - once the deal is struck - he will rather die then break the deal. You know, if you agree to his arrangement - that he will be as fair as you can expect him to be. Further - you also know he will expect the same from you! Of course, you also know that - if he feels he is not getting fair or equal treatment from you in kind - then he will push to the death for it!
Khromm drains the mug with a thirsty gulp – seemingly impervious to the effects of the brew. He glances at it with a sour look – clearly northern beer is not the same as southern beer. ”You want to know what I can offer – well, how’s this for starters – I’ve been there – I know where this place is, can put it on a map for you, if you want – I can tell you the relative number of folk inside, freedmen and slaves – something about the number of their troops – magic users, and plans for the working of the city, not to mention giving you basic overlay of the defenses. How much is that worth to you?” he adds. ”As for coin itself? I’m a damn good killer – damn good. And I got no qualms with doing it – you need a man knifed, cold blooded or hot – I can do it for you – or, if you want, I can take a man in for you – I’ve hunted the dunes for coin on commission and brought in runaways, vagrants, mercenaries, rebels and criminals – I never break a contract one I start it – and I stick to it to the end – if you hire me – I’ll come through, or die trying – provided you come through, too.” ”Now – as for commission – what kind of rates are you offering – what kind of coin? You let me know that – and maybe we can go from there – but for now, I’d like to see what you got on the table for my offer about the place,” he adds, watching coolly, as if appraising your next move, clearly eager to finally deal with someone who can "Get down to business", as it were.
"Easy lass - no need to overexert yourself," Khromm says. "Do you need some water - or maybe some more food," he asks patiently. Glancing at Arasmes he speaks directly. "Forgive her - she's fairly... frail.... When we first met her, I struck her - I didn't know she was mad, I promise you that - even so: one blow felled her fast, and would have been an end to her. I did not think she would have suffered so much so quickly - and yet, there it is! Therefore, I say to all of you - mind yourself, I shall not tolerate any abuse to this one - she needs support - and is very tender, besides," he says with a sage nod about the fragile elf who he nearly killed with one blow in the rocky canyon. Huh! Frail in body and in mind - poor girl! Curse the gods for their abuse - nevertheless - she needs all the help she can get - so weak, so easily defeated - and now this business with her lack of wits!
Khromm turns to her with a sad frown on his face. "There, there, love - shhhh... It's alright... Everything is just fine... Don't you worry... Of course you couldn't slaughter the "man" - it's very understandable... you are very correct in your thinking...Very correct..." he says with a soft, patient voice, as if he were talking to a skittish animal. He shakes his head in sorrow at her obvious mental instability, and favors the group with a pained expression - the first such expression he's ever demonstrated - but it is clearly directed at her obvious insanity.
Arasmes looks at the assembled group and says I am sorry for the trouble that you have experienced with this Black Koda group. Khromm, you and I are not from very far apart, at least as far as distance go. I was born in the very north of Katapesh, near the Brazen Peaks. Well Mistress Isani and Clari that takes care of you both as to why you are here. Although Clari I am unclear as to how you know of Councilman Malas'rae? What about you miss Lazurien, and you Khromm? Why have you come to Saravale? Also you have all come from the south and you can be invaluable to us if you had any information of the Black Koda and their activities. We know very little about them and would seek to stomp their slaving practices out if we can. I will not stand for it so close to Saravale. He says with a fervor that can only come from someone intimately familiar with the horrors of slavery. Khromm gives you a hard look, but says nothing, shaking his head in near stupefaction. "So you had the chance to kill someone you had a blood oath against - and you... you... you did nothing?" he asks in near awe at your lackadaisical attitude. "What kind of a creature are you?" he prompts, in a shocked voice, half talking to himself, his gaze now turning into naked contempt, seeing her cheerfully decide to switch conversation from murdering her half brother into a enjoying a "tasty beverage". Suddenly, his eyes widen in surprise, then he nods, almost to himself. Turning to Arasmes, he mouths something - you cannot see what it is, however, but he taps his skull twice, and nods at Arasmes after you comments.
Arasmes looks at the assembled group and says I am sorry for the trouble that you have experienced with this Black Koda group. Khromm, you and I are not from very far apart, at least as far as distance go. I was born in the very north of Katapesh, near the Brazen Peaks. Well Mistress Isani and Clari that takes care of you both as to why you are here. Although Clari I am unclear as to how you know of Councilman Malas'rae? What about you miss Lazurien, and you Khromm? Why have you come to Saravale? Also you have all come from the south and you can be invaluable to us if you had any information of the Black Koda and their activities. We know very little about them and would seek to stomp their slaving practices out if we can. I will not stand for it so close to Saravale. He says with a fervor that can only come from someone intimately familiar with the horrors of slavery. Khromm looks around the place, wondering where his beer is – and if it is actually coming, or if all these folk prefer to drink is their watered down grapejuice and honey water! ”I come from away south, too – near Thuvia and Mwangi – south-western side of Osirion – where it breaks up into harsh country – far from your civilized townships,” he adds, with a bored tone. ”But, just so you know – I’ll spill it for you fair; I’ve seen this town that seems to anger you so – I know it – I know where it is, I know how to find it – I know the folk that live there, and I know something of their ways,” he says with a flat tone. ”But, I’m thinking that’s a lot of information to be just handing out – if you understand me?” he says, pressing the bit. ”Something like that could be very helpful to people like you, I don’t doubt – so; if I can’t make it any more clear – what’s in it for me? I don’t know you – any of you – but I know two ways to survive – steel, and coin,” he continues with a flat voice. "In some places, if I want to survive, I'd kill what I wished and take what I wanted, rather then work for coin and spend it on what I want," he adds. ”But I don't think I'll be doing that here, at least, not yet - but that's because right now I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt – I’m thinking that you want to handle those scum for a reason. Well and good! In that case – I can help you – a lot. But, like I said – what’s in it for me? What’s my reward for the help – because, I promise you – I can be useful – but my services aren’t cheap,” he adds.
Hearing Amarsmes’ offer, Khromm flings himself broadly into a chair. ”I’ll take beer – if you have it – no northern swill for me,” Khromm grunts, with a cool sense of arrogance that borders on insult. ”As for my name? I already spoke it – but, if you have forgotten – I am called “Khromm” – that should be enough,” he adds. ”I hail from lower Osirion – the borders of the sands between the great cities near the coast – and the deep deserts with forgotten plunder,” he says, answering your question on his background. ”I’ve done a large share of different work – but I am very good at killing,” he concludes, with a casual tone of brutality. Khromm leans back and stretches out his heavy legs – he seems rather comfortable at this point – and folds his heavy arms across his broad chest. He listens for a moment about all the prattle about laws and legalities – wondering if they plan on getting to the point any time soon… He did not ride so far through death and bloodshed to be forced to sit in a darksome room listening to talk on naught!
When Khromm enters, Ka'etil raises his head, and looks at the half-dwarf asking, "You know of the Black Koda? We've received some information about them, and hopefully have gathered more, but what knowledge you have could put things into better context for us. What did you say your name was? I am councilman Ka'etil, by the way." Khromm looks at you with a hard look, taking you up and down - as if sizing you up for a fight. "I am Khromm," he answers coldly, but says nothing of this Black Koda organization.
Khromm stalks in, moving swiftly in front of the others, folding his massive arms over his chest, and offering the "Council" - no royalty here - a smug sneer. "Huh! So - this is the competition for the Black Koda gang, eh? Pah, doesn't look like much," he grunts, and his eyes roam the room, until they suddenly flit over Brett - his normal tan face turns pale, and his eyes widen slightly. "Ye gods... a halfling..." he murmurs - and the sneer evaporates like water in the desert. He drops his arms to his side and suddenly looks mildly penitent - as if apologetic for his earlier comment, as if that emotion is something he may be capable of... "Beg pardon sir - won't happen again - must be the heat is all..." he says, bowing his head. Apparently the strange horrors of the cannibalistic halflings are something that is still heavy on his mind...
Khromm gives you a flat look, staring you up and down, his eyes cold. "Yes - you have never heard of a halfling so frightening - in your world things are soft and weak - there is no reason to fear the halfling who should cut into your flesh and pull out your organs and feast on them while you scream - here they make "sweatmeats"." "In my world an elf can run over eighty miles in three days over open desert - they know of poisons that can kill with ease - and they are the best I've ever seen at a slave who smiles at their master - even as they, the abused slave - plans revenge of a such delicacy it would drive a man mad with agony. In the north, it seems - elves here are not trained, though they do make fine "chefs"" "The southlands are deadly in many ways - and the northlands are soft, so it seems. But now, it seems - the southlands are invading into the north. Woe to any northman who has contempt for a man of the south - for it seems that my folk are somewhat more deadly then our cousins here - and it seems the northerners will start to see true trouble approaching - the like as which to rival the mundane threats they are accustomed to - if indeed a group of halflings were here, in the forest - we'd both be dead already, should we be lucky - and if we were not - we would be alive when they feasted on us. This does not worry you overmuch - why should it? You have not met such cause for worry - very well - you are fortunate. But know that the creatures in the south are coming - and hell is coming with them," Khromm adds, somewhat ominously.
Khromm's face pales at your description. For the first time since you've met him - you believe you have actually stunned and impressed him with a tale of your courage... "Pleasant?" he says with a choked cry, as if stifling a curse. "Aye - you're right on many accounts - they do look like children - but, in our lands - they're not so... pleasant..." he glances through the trees, again with nervous tension, then leans forward, his eyes flicking around him. "They say..." he says in an almost conspiratorial voice "that the Halfling folk are small like children, aye - but they hide themselves in the deep jungles and forests near ancient mountains - no man ventures too near, even for the water that the forests hold - for the rumor of the halfling horror is too strong!" He wets his lips and continues. "They, too - like the elven folk - use poisons - and they hide in trees - many of their folk are, at the least - druids of high renown - they hate magic users with a fierceness - almost as much as any who would stray into their forests and jungles!" "They watch you from trees - biding their time - careful, cautious - ever patient - then, when they deem the moment ripe - they strike at you in a group - but not to kill, oh no - they use darts and needles, and you can't even see them, so cunning are they in stealth - and the poison hits you, and your muscles lock up - and you collapse so they can take you back to their vile places of worship," he adds. "Some say there are ancient temples to dark cults of Nameless gods before our own in the jungles, and the halflings tribes were corrupted by the evil power that clings to those dark haunts - others say that the halflings were cursed by the gods themselves - old wives with their tales, or weak-minded fools protest this accusation. They insist that treating them well is the only way to cure their "madness" - and, on a time - saying that halflings have been merely abused and mistreated - and so they strike back at any who would take them slave!" he adds. "Pah!" he says, spitting to clear his mouth at that bit of nonsense about a halfling that can be "healed" of his vicious and vile practices. "I've never heard of a halfing slave - prisoner - yes - taken by sages, alchemists, priests - and others - to dissect, to study - and to observe - but no man I know has made a living halfling a slave - the closest I ever saw was when I stood bodygaurd to a noble who desired to watch a halfling have his brain tinkered with - the creature screamed so loud it was almost pitiable - until the knife-man hit something in its brain - and then it just lapsed into slovenly drooling..." he adds the last bit almost to himself. Then, rousing himself a bit, he continues to peer through the trees. "In our land a halfling is known for his skill with stealth - his refusal to submit to slavery... and... worst of all... his appetite!" Khromm says the last. "Do your halflings in the north here - are they rumored to feast heavy - no, I can see that this is false! For you would be much more cautions if it was true," he adds with a condescending tone. "Still - the poisons they use - they take folk alive to their dark jungle temples for their feasting - for they feast on man-flesh, and elf too, when they can get it - and other more horrible things!" He turns and watches you, his face still strained and nervous. "And maybe - if you've fought well - or if someone in their tribe honors your courage - they'll kill you before they start eating..." he adds. "Aye indeed - it seems that you northern folk have little troubles here - the south is more grim, it seems - where a man who strays too close to the woods will likely be hunted down or killed my those who guard such places - and folk guard water more then they guard gold - yet, even so - in this land there is water aplenty - mayhap that's why you do not fear the halflings so..." he adds. "And - by all accounts - it seems there is something to be said for them being weak as well - for they allow themselves to be taken slave! Ha - what madness is this? No halfling in the southern waste would tolerate such things - if I ever see a halfing that was once a slave - he will have a fine gift from me.... Contempt!" This last statement strikes you odd - as you believe Khromm himself admitted to being a former slave... His contempt for anyone who would tolerate bondage - it is almost as if he is trying to prove something... You are also greatly relieved to know that his fears for halflings are, at the least - unmerited in the north! A tribe of halflings surrounding you with poison darts to render you helpless so they could literally capture you and eat you - simply for straying onto their land... What horror! Perhaps this, and other similar fears, are why Krhomm's been so tense...
"What worries me is what broke the chain. Was it a large boat, or some king of creature from below the waters? Or did the ferryman cut the chain half-way across and pull their boat the rest of the way, leaving no way of crossing in the same manner?" Clari suggests to the group. "they may have scuttled the boat on the other side, or let it drift down river if it was the latter. But if there is a barge of some sort still, using roap, we can connect it to the end of the chain, extend it to the other side, Laz flying over, grab the severed chain, and re-connect the two halves in the middle, and use the boat. And if it's missing, and it was set adrift, it may be down-river. I'll come along down river to whoever looks for it." Khromm's eyes are on the forests around you - he seems very ill-at-ease. It is as if he does not like the forest and is very tense around it - this makes sense, you'd gather - he was not born in the wilderness, but in the slave pens of a city - and whatever knowledge of the wild he learned seems to have come from with the sands, badlands, open plains or rocky wastes of the south lands. And though the forests seem dark and intimidating - but you sense there is something else more sinister that is encouraging his tension. However - when he hears your words, he grunts somewhat in his answer. "You raise good points woman - but they're no value now. The other two have already left," he adds, indicating with a gesture to the northern side of the river, as his eyes continue to roam the trees, staring hard and intently at them. He frowns a bit - again, as if he is on edge about something, but holds his tongue. Finally - when the tension is getting nearly unbearable - he finally turns to Clari - and, in an almost roundabout sort of way says with a slow few words... "You northern elves - you're handy in the forests at least - that much all the lore in the south agrees on.... Tell me - in your northern lands - do you... Have you ever heard of a creature some call a "halfling"?" he asks, his tone edgy, and his eyes continuing to flick through the trees, giving you a look that is seemingly perplexed on why you seem so relaxed in the woods by the water.
Khromm stiffens suddenly, and turns a cold look on the elf. Her spell has echoed throughout all the forests - at least, presumably - loud enough that a flying creature that is literally 75 feet north of them, and 200 feet above them - can hear the shout over a churning river... So, too - can any other creature, which is - perhaps - what makes Khromm tense. He says nothing for a moment, staring intently at the forests around you -if there is a mysterious place to cross - a hidden path, a secret tunnel - and it is guarded... Khromm turns and walks back briskly to Clari - his eyes dark. "Be quiet - now!" he growls out, his hand leaning on his sword hilt. Then, he turns, and gestures to the ground, pointing at the terrain, and speaks to Clari as if nothing happened. "Look here - the mud - the tracks are confused - I've never seen the like before - but it reminds me of something - like a giant snake - see how the slime is pressed down in a smooth pattern here..." he says, stabbing a finger at the mud. "It's almost as if something was dragged or pushed here - but what could it be?" he adds, the last to you, but also to himself. He sees nothing for a while - the tracks are now plain - even without searching for them - farther south down the river you can see in mud a few remains of shod hoof prints. The river twists a bit, but suddenly, the bank rises up somewhat from the river into a small, shallow pool - possibly seventy feet end to end, it runs about fifty feet deep from the coast, and it looks to be about two or three feet deep, maybe... Heavy trees hang overhead - and the area is completely covered. But no the south side of the pool, both you and Khromm see something. A heavy post, possibly two feet in radius and about six feet tall. There are heavy iron rings on it, and what look like the makings of a long chain. Khromm drops his reigns and fishes in the water with his hands, and drags from the water a heavy chain, about one foot in width - he looks at you quizzically - then tugs on the chain, and it slides from the pool. He continues to tug, and it comes forward easily through the muck. Soon he has nearly sixty feet of the chain hauled from the pool, and you can clearly see it is being dragged from somewhere near the beach. But the chain is still moving easily... In a few more moments he pulls the chain up from the water, and you both see the end of it - it looks broken - the ends seem to be twisted - as if one of the links were snapped; the metal to the iron is splayed and twisted - as if something tore it loose. But from what - and to what purpose. Khromm stares at the water with a frown... then turns and examines the pool again. In due time, with your help, feeling in the water you can feel flat stones - there is something like a stone "deck" just under the water. It is about twenty feet in width and roughly forty feet in length. then it drops off into mud. Khromm turns and looks at the iron pillar - and the broken chain - and stares across to the wide river, then back to you. "Well - what do you make of it, elf. It looks like this chain was fashioned to something - but what? Could it be linked to something on the other side of this water? But if so - what was it? Is this sort of thing common for your northern types - to have a chain across a river? What's the point of that - never mind that the chain broke - why tie it - to stop people from traveling down the river, like a massive garrote? It makes no damn sense!" he says, shaking his head in confusion. "And for the stone deck? What's that all about? This little pool is nice and private - no wonder the two above missed it - but it's also away from the pull of the river - yeah, I understand that - but to what end - to what purpose? Why would anyone do that?" he asks you again.
”Caravan to this “Saravale”? Hell– you didn’t listen so good! No, I said that “riders like a caravan are making trips north – from here to some nation or city state up by rocks and water – but that’s all I know,” he adds, while you sigh at his adherence to semantics ” – and when we found you, you and the bird-girl were jumped by a company of men with horses; also heading north! Now, you don’t have a company of men with horses riding somewhere unless they have a plan, they don’t just ride around for amusement – and if they do have a plan, namely, riding north for reason – and there is a city up north that their folk travel too, then it seems likely the riders who are heading north to the city have dealings with the city and know how to get there easily – in which case it is even more likely that there is other types of foot traffic between the cities – gear, troops, men… And they need to know how to get there and travel there, even if the way is secret. But, secret or not – they’ve got to make their way north, and they got to get by this damn river, which means there is likely a way for them all to get past it!” Khromm adds with a grunt. Hearing your suggestion to search for tracks, he shrugs, and reigns in his horse, hops off and looks around with you. Seeing your efforts and trying to search for tracks, and you ability to barely find your own feet, he passes his heavily calloused hand over his face and bites back a curse. ”Gods damn my eyes! What are you northern elves good for? No skill in poison – no cunning in intrigue – no ability to rob a man so sly that he’ll stop you only to hand you more money – no knowledge or understanding of good ways to torture a man – and, seemingly, not a drop of skill in the wild in your veins!” he says with an angry sweep of his arm. He moves away from you then, crouching low the ground, his eyes flicking over the grasses, peering up and around, then back again for a while. After a moment or two – he tells you what he sees.
”Now - there are some damn tracks – maybe... maybe two days old – horses for sure – hard to say how many, but I'd gather at least seven or eight – the fools ride all over – at least desert elves travel in single file – to hide their number,” he adds to you, with a sour voice. ”You northern folk have it soft here – water all over the place to drink, fresh meat, fresh game, and nary a trouble on the trail, but other men who were so easy to kill that it near dulled my blades!” he adds, patting his sword hilts fondly, then pausing to turn and look at you for a moment. ”Well – should we follow the tracks? They seem to be heading under the treeline – and to the west – but wherever they are going – I don’t think the two up there will see what’s happening,” he adds, grabbing the reigns to his horse and jerking it forward as he walks slowly, following the grass – not waiting to see if you follow.
"She better," Khromm grunts in disgust - but you sense it is not about Laz - but something else is troubling him. Seeing your look, he shakes his head and answers with a growl... "It doesn't make any god's damned sense is all! You can't tell me that a god's damned caravan is stabbing south over the grass - and the tracks are simple enough for any to read - you can't have missed them..." he adds, shaking his head. "So - how do you get a caravan of men moving north - with horses, gear, and so on - to a town to the north - when there's clearly a river the size of my... well, the point is - there's a huge damned river to cross - and if we ride east to avoid it - then we're hip deep in mud and filth!" You see now Khromm is more annoyed that he can't find the answer to this mysterious riddle. Naturally, though - it seems likely that the rest of you all already know the answer - but, if you wouldn't mind sharing it with Khromm, it will probably lesson his tension a bit...
”An arrow may be faster – but not better. And if you can’t enjoy killing – maybe it’s because you’ve got no passion. Killing is like anything else that stirs the blood – drinking, dice, whoring – and killing – all of it gets you hot, makes your heart throb – there’s nothing greater in life then the feeling that ripples down your arm from your sword as you slice it into the flesh of an enemy… Aye! Especially an enemy…” ”Everyone kills now and again by necessity, and you can still enjoy it – but when it is an enemy – and you look into his eyes as they get all cloudy – or you watch his mouth flap open like a frog as you choke his last breath out… Well – what’s wrong with that?” Khromm says with a hearty grin. ”Now,” he says, suddenly downshifting into a no-nonsense “business” tone ”you got an enemy in the man who harmed you – if you want to harm him – harm his seed. There’s nothing worse for a man then to see his child taken - but, if you have no stomach for the deed – stiffen your spine! Take the child – hold him ransom, but do nothing to the child – let the father fear your rage… If you’re afraid of torture – who cares for that? So don't torture the child, if you'd rather not - but, the father doesn't have to know about it – but he’ll fear you! Unless he doesn't love his own child - then devise a new plan - turn the child against his father - and now you have a real power of vengeance!” Khromm pauses to glance around the terrain for a bit, checking for signs of a possible enemy. ”Now – what can you tell me about poisons, elf? Your kind is handy with them in the south – what of you northern types? Can you create poisons – are you skilled in lore – can you infiltrate a court of kings and stand before them, even as you plot their murder?” Khromm adds the last with a harsh bark of laughter. ”Don’t mistake me, friend! I have no such aspirations, yet... But – I just never met a northern elf – and am curious to know what type of creature you are…” You notice Khromm seems somewhat hesitant to talk to Isani – whether it is because he is afraid of her potential “Witchcraft” – or powers to “Summon Demons” – which her mysterious eyes are clear evidence of, you don't know... Oddly, he seems fairly undisturbed by Laz –perhaps this because Laz is flying behind the party and is not noticed so easily, unless she speaks directly to the group – but you all start to wonder if it is also because Laz is not as mysterious to the half-dwarf as you other races are. Yet if this is true – what does that say about Khromm’s history? Has he seen races like Laz before - and if so - what does he know them? Hmmm... Who knows his true motives? But – for now – he seems merely curious to know what northern elves are like. Even so – you are now all able to see the silver vein of the river in the distance. Perhaps a mile or two from you – it stretches the entire horizon – at this point you can see the massive lake to your east – but between you and the lake is heavy cracked muddy flats, soggy marshes, and boggy ground – steams and vapors rise from cracks – and occasional bubbly pools of mud splatter in the distance. However – to your west is a massive forest that covers your entire flank. You cannot see much into it – but farther into the greenery you see (miles away) what looks like mists and fogs in the forests – they stretch for miles on lower valleys which you are able to look down on. You believe the rivers may spill down into these valleys farther to the west. ”Well – what’s the plan?” Khromm growls at the river which dominates your path. You think the river may be about seventy or eighty yards wide – you are not sure – and you certainly don’t know the depth. But Khromm’s question about the river is more relevant. If there is a caravan that is heading north – then it seems likely that the caravan would need some sort of crossing, if they are able to make it to this mysterious northern town. There must be some way to cross – but you cannot see one from here. Is the mysterious crossing to the west, hidden under the trees? Or is it to the east – a straight and true path through the bogs? At this time you don’t know – perhaps you could look for one, if you don’t want to swim the river and its mysterious depths.
Khromm perks up at this information - though for him, that basically means he scowls less. "Down south I met some Dune Runnners - that's what we call the elf folk there - they ain't as pretty as you northern types - darker in skin, rougher - hair long and in kinky strands - but those basterds can run! They normally can run about twenty miles in an hour - every hour - for about five or six hours before they need to stop! Of course - they're taller then you - same body size, but their legs are a hell of a lot longer - we just adapt better to the desert in the southlands I guess.. Anyhow - they're a different breed down south," he continue as his horse trots on. "They're cunning in magic - most elf types are - but they also know magic in way of song and story... Their bards are a hell of a lot different then you northern types - they don't sing or fiddle - or whatever it is you folk do - they tell stories; they inspire folk with their tales of glory and honor - that kind of thing... Good minds to - a southern bard is a dangerous thing - they learn a hell of a lot more then you northern types, that's for damn sure - not so much on the ways of magic - they're more like rogues - less spells - but more tricksy in ways of poisons, hell - they know a lot about poison - more then any I know of... But they also know lore - and they're cunning of the ways of loot - it's said there isn't an elf alive who can't tell the value of something worth selling! "But..." and here Khromm's voice lowers, almost conspiratorially, "they also know clever ways to kill a man - painful ways - and their poisons are real nasty - very nasty... Anyhow - when you said you were looking for the son of the man you wanted to kill - I just figured you'd want to kill the son for what the father did to you - and, being that I don't know many northern elves - I wondered how you plan on doing the killing? You don't have much meat on you - I doubt much you're good in a fight - that is, toe-to-toe fighting - but now I'm wondering if you can't use poisons like they do in the south - and if so - what type do you plan on using?" he asks. This is the first time Khromm has shown any interest in things - since you've seen him - and the fist time he's talked at length. Apparently he is very familiar with the unique differences of the Southern Bards - not like the northern kindred - but now he wonders what the difference is; as in, how many skills do you posses regarding poisons - how do you plan on doing your killing - short or slow - clean or messy... Any in earshot can guess that Khromm is not only interested in cultural differences - but he is also interested in new methods of death and destruction - and he wondering what your preferred method is... You see he is acting polite now - and willing to listen. Indeed - Khromm seems so intent on your tale of vengeance that he has not even mentioned the fact that you are fast approaching a cross-roads - according to your avian friend - and there is a wide river you will need to cross in which none seem to be preparing for... "Well - what's the plan, then - how do you plan on killing this basterd - or are you going to send the father just pieces of the son? If so - I know a few good way to torture a man - you just let me know..." he adds with a disarming frankness and gesture that seems to say - eh, don't mention it!
”Hard to say, woman – I don’t know the range of these gorges – I say we ride on until either night fall – or until we break free – then, explore our surroundings. If there’s a good place to camp – then I say we find one for the night – from what I’ve seen of this country – it’s been bad… Bad thing to ride horses in the night – liable to break a leg – and then what’re they good for? Other then eating – not much!” he adds with a grunt. Glancing upward through the narrow ravines, he squints somewhat. ”Now – if that flying thing ever returns to report what it’s found – then we may have some news. Until then – I say we ride on – this path is straight, true and level – the longer we delay – the more light we lose when we exit it – if we exit it – we may ride long and discover this ends at a flat wall… gods know! At which point, we grab our gear and climb out of here and proceed on foot,” he adds the last – looking up for Laz – wondering where she is, and what she sees.
Hearing Isani - Khromm will not wait. If Clari wishes to examine the bodies - she can catch up. As for him, he will ride north through the gorge quickly. Clari can catch up - or not... But he will no longer wait here.
"No - I say we move now - she knows where to find us - it's a sure thing she can see us," Khromm says pointing up at Laz. "It's a sure thing that that girl with the wings might see some poxing whoreson's out there, if there is anyone to see - but even if she does - then they can damn sure see her. So - there's either a host of scum riding down on us as we speak, as they saw her soar out of here and they're after her - and are even now riding down on us hard. Or - there is no one around for miles - in which case she'll no doubt fly down in a few moments and tell us one way or the other..." "Meantime - I don't plan on staying in this gorge any longer then we need to - it's a gods damned deathtrap! All it takes is a few archers on the cliffs and we're dead - covered positions in elevated terrain - no; we'd be dead fast." "And," he adds, watching Clari for a moment "if there is no enemy coming in hard and we've no threat coming - then at the very least we're just standing around wasting time," he adds with a growl.
Khromm watches you for a moment. First you must strip the bodies of their weapons - this takes time. Then you must strip the bodies of the armor. This takes more time (ten minutes to "dress" or "undress" from armor - if I'm not mistaken - per individual). Then you must find some way of putting the armor together in some sort of bundle, and collecting it, and hitching it to a saddle - or some other way of carrying it. In less then thirty seconds, Khromm's face switches from neutral boredom to downright disgust at your actions. After thirty more seconds, he drops his hand to the hilt of his sword. "Enough! Gold and jewels are one thing - but if you want to stay and root in the sand for bits of junk - be my guest! But we just killed a bunch of these folk and just now a thing with wings is flying above us for all the world to see... If there are any more of their scum around - they'll heading this way fast when they see her circling," he says, pointing to Laz, as he continues to watch Clari coldly. Khromm will then turn to Isani - "You waiting around for this - or are you coming?" he asks her. "It's a long way from nowhere to maybe somewhere - and I don't feel like waiting any longer," he adds, watching the dark-haired woman flatly.
Regrettably - any loot on the corpses has already been removed by Mister Khromm. He seemed very thorough - and you notice that there are slots on ears and noses where gold rings once hung - he must have torn them from the bodies and pocketed them.
Meanwhile, Khromm himself has pulled himself onto a horse. You see his own bow is slung on his back now, along with the quiver of arrows, the bola is coiled at his belt like a lasso. He urges the horse forward slightly, glancing to the slaughtered folk with a bored look. "This town - this... Saravale - odd name for a town - do you think it named for some sort of god? Hmm... Well - we're riding north and east - that is enough for me. I am eager for a place to spend these trinkets," he adds, hefting a pouch, within comes the clink, clink of metal on metal - you presume it is a sack filled with the treasure he took. "Think you that they shall have chariots there? I would fancy a wager if they did, but I doubt it - these northlands seem nothing but a hotbed of marsh and cesspits - the muck would mire the wheels of a chariot as sure as the dune seas would swallow a caravan whole! Well, no matter... perhaps there are other diversions in this town..." He looks at the three of you, with a somewhat expectant look. "Well - is there anything else - or are we free to be away," he asks, his voice still grim as he wheels his horse to and fro, his eyes constantly scanning the cliffs above...
"Here now," Khromm says to the elf as Isani goes about the business of going through the men's personal effects, until she finds and identify the tattoo's. He tosses the blade to Clari , and rests his hands on the hilts of his own weapons, which are currently sheathed. "You'll need it - you were attacked by slaver types - probably wanted you because females are worth more as slaves, generally - but in either case - these folk weren't just slavers. They were also part of some religious cult - I don't know much about religion - but I know they are zealots who'd die for their masters's say-so. If they were the one's that hit you - and it seems likely as these scum here all have the ink on them - then it's likely we should stay together. They'll try again - sticking together seems like a sound idea... " Khromm says flatly, watching Clari take her blade back. "Just remember - there's no bad blood between us now - we can't afford it - if we have religious zealots on our trail!" he adds, watching the elf clearly, even as Isani finishes her business. "Anyhow - well met," he adds at the last - taking Clari's hand in his steely grip.
Khromm shrugs and picks up the "female" - tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He then dumps her - unceremoniously - on the ground for the healing. "How much longer you plan on waiting here - I think it would be better to be off - then not," he says, his eyes glancing up the gorge.
"I'm Khromm," he says, glancing down at the elf. He turns to look at Isani Isani Isu with a bemused look. "City folk! How many names do you people need?" he asks with a grim laugh.
|