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Morgaard winces at the strike to his backside, then turns around suprised as well as angered. His hand instinctively flies to his great axe before returning to his side and clenching in a fist. His eyes glow with anger, but it subsides as the Kirmoon's words fall on his ears. He listens intently, then calms. He watches the sisters retreat, then after a moment he speaks: "I will give you that strike against my flesh without reciprocity, cleric. You could have simply verbalized your greivance with my actions and I would have been happy to discuss it in a more civilized manner. Let me explain this nice clear words so that you will completely understand. I fought the golem as I would fight anything, standing my ground in defense of not only the Kirmoons but for this whole party. When the shields fell, my only thoughts were to kill what threatened us FIRST. I did not stop to think while in combat that I could not slay what was before me. We Hellhammers do not run from a fight, even if it means our death. Once committed to action, we must follow through. And no matter your viewpoint, you cannot know if the golem would have struck you with a random swing or step had I not been engaged with it." Morgaard softens his words to a more-deliberate level: "Fate has seen us to this path, and none were injured save me. I nearly paid for my error with my life, and you assume that I need to be struck as a reminder of it. Now, I've suffered many such little injuries and dishonors, yet none now live to tell the tale of them. To draw a blade at my back and strike me when I am not looking, even if in jest, is rudely improper among my people as well as others, to say the least. I forgive your dishonor to me, but getting yourself a pardon from Alexis is completely in your hands. As for me, I will forget this happened..." Morgaard bows slightly to Priyya, then turns and walks somberly toward the Kirmoons.
Morgaard feels the warmth of the healing energies tingle though his body. He uncontrollably gasps as feels the wounds close, bones set, and other things order themselve properly in his somewhat broken body. After a moment, a genuine smile crosses his face, this time, not laced with the pain of battle: "Thank you, dears! That'll do ol Morgaard just fine. Of course, the touch of two beauties such as yourselves would being any man to his feet!" The stout dwarf winks though his bushy eyebrows then leaps to his feet: "Ah, good as new! I healed faster than ol' woody dwarf stomper over there. Now, since there is so much smoke already in the air, a little pipe-weed will serve nicely as we discuss what we shall do now." Morgaard lights his pipe and puffs a large smoke-ring in the direction of the construct.
Morgaard is in pain, but he manages a smile. "Ah, I've fought fiercer things than that pansy. Was there ever a doubt my plan would work? I am an expert at stopping my enemies attack with my own face! Now, give me a moments rest... " He lets out a rattling sign and sits down the shield as he himself takes a seat. He winces as his rump hits the ground.
Morgaard quickly snatches the shield from Priyya with suprising strength as he passes: "Leaving eh? Probably not without my help. Now, be a good lass and help that one...", Morgaard nods in the direction of Felmor, "...with his shield. I've enough strength for this one. Now hurry, we've no time!" His voice is loud and firm; clearly the tone of a professional soldier. He is merely being direct in his words, with no intention of being rude. He is still gravely injured, blood froths at the corner of his mouth and spills onto his grey beard. Morgaard then makes for the ramp nearest his position. He attempts to climb the ramp as quickly as possible:
Morgaard is dazed and somewhat confused, but alive. He moves as fast as possible and gets clear of the golem, seeing that he'll do little good against the construct.
Morgaard makes another attack, hoping to offer distraction so that the others can grab the shields:
Morgaard attacks the Construct with his great axe:
"You're not going without me, dear. In case you have forgotten our contract." The dwarf takes his great axe from his belt, then winks at Alis as he moves toward the stairs.
Morgaard ponders for a moment: "Hmm. We should risk a closer look. Perhaps we need but to ask for the shields if he springs to life as part of a test or some such nonsense. See what he has to say, if anything, first. Then, if the circumstances warrant, we can then turn him into splinters."
Morgaard brushes his thumb lightly along the edge of his axe: "Aye, I have something that should work just fine if it decides to spring to life from whatever infernal energy infects this place."
Morgaard gestures at the statue: "Anyone care to check to make sure we won't have to fight that? I mean, check to see if he will re-animate, or is enchanted, or whatever?"
Morgaard puffs on his pipe. "I'd tend to agree...might as well see what those stairs are about..."
Knowing his attack will probably be futile against the Shadow, Morgaard snatches the dagger out of the air and lunges at the shade's shrieking form.
Morgaard remains at the ready.
The dwarf comments curtly as he takes a defensive stance: "Well, can we fight it or not?"
Morgaard gives it another go::
Morgaard moves past Alis to attack the beetle with his great axe:
"I'd say try the west door and explore our tactical options. At least we can see if it smells like a more secretive route to the wailing or gain a little more intelligence about how to complete our mission here."
"Perhaps it would be better to return and try some of the other doors at this juncture. Gut instinct tells me that kicking in this door will take our element of suprise and Torag knows what's on the other side of it; a few weak undead, a circle of highly-skilled war mages conducting a secret ritual, or perhaps even Tiamat herself. Trying to get though it without being able to at least sneak a peek on the other side of it could be catastrophic, to say the least - and we may yet find a way to enter that same room in a more clandestine fashion."
Morgaard looks at Priyya's gesture and nods. He agrees to be the ONE!
"I say test the wailing door!"
The dwarf takes a drink from his water skin, then strokes his beard thoughtfully: "I'd agree to tripping the three switches using the brooms. It's seems logical enough. Since all the switches are flanked by traps, it'd seem that they're guarded in some crude manner to prevent tampering with them; so perhaps there is our answer..."
Morgaard grumbles at the narrow corridors. "Ish, not much in the way for fighting in here..."
Morgaard opts to take the studded leather armor if no one else cares to have it.
"I've not doubted your ability, warrior-priestess. I've travelled many a road and seen those as yourself make battle. I've just never been so close to such a display. I'm aiming my bit at the noggin' of one of 'em, and POOF! All gone, no targets for my axe! It's an eye opener, that's for sure!"
Morgaard exclaims as the bone dust drifts to coat everything in the room in a fine grey-white powder: "By Torag's Beard, you've quite the gift there lass!" Morgaard grins from ear to ear, and gives Priyya a hearty pat on the back, knocking a cloud of fine bone dust into the air. After which, he shakes out his beard and dusts off his clothing and armor; chuckling it while doing it.
Morgaard scans the interior of the tomb. Taking a couple steps forward, he prods the two corpses with the haft of his great axe. They seem dead enough to the point of stenching of stale decay. Looking around, he observes the two doors leading to depths unknown. He turns to the group and asks: "Left or right, I'll leave it to you to choose which way to go, either smells just as morbid to my nose. I'll lead with Alis, and the rest of the marching order, you can decide on. I do think that Priyya should remain in the middle so that she can offer the holy assitance we need if called upon."
The dwarf looks over the scene. "Aye, goblins but could be worse. There are vile things in the depths of the Earth; the likes of which could have wandered up all the way from Hell if they managed to dig up into this tomb..."
Morgaard wiped off a bit of the blood from his face before offering thanks: "Well, the bow works. I apperciate the pitching in all, I think it just paid for itself!" During his watch, he drags the bodies of the wolves just south of camp in hopes that any predators would go for an easy meal of fresh and bloody dead than the more-dangerous prey of the swift-bladed party. After, he retuns to the campfire where he begins cleaning the gore from his studded armor with an oiled cloth. Smiling, he then lights his pipe; letting the smoke rings drift into the dark of the late watches.
Morgaard takes a quick few steps, jumps the log near the fire, then fires off a single arrow from his longbow in Alis' direction:
Morgaard swings again, and this time, I am gonna clean the f*ckers clock:
Morgaard turns and rushes toward Priyya.
"Here doggie, doggie, doggie!" Morgaard looses his great axe and swings hard:
Morgaard quickly fires at the only wolf he can see:
Morgaard awakes to Alis' bump. He hears her words though the fading veil of sleep: "Thank you, lass. Your'e right, it would be a good chance, eh? Now, give me a moment to get my joints to quit arguing with me." Morgaard stretches, slides his axe into his belt, and retrieves his new longbow. He comes from the tent and scans the darkness around him. Satisfied that he does not see much in the way of anything going on, he seats himself on a rock just inside the woodline looking over the small camp. He opts not to smoke his pipe this evening, as the smell could alert any unwanted guests in the area.
Morgaard Perception Checks:
Excellent. What is the type of this bow? Composite, standard, etc? Just trying to update my invetory here. :)
Morgaard sits smoking his pipe, smoke wafting though his bushy eyebrows. Needless to say, where ever the Kirmoons go, he will go. He nods in silent agreement. He's bound by both love and honor here, but that is not the hook for him. Even in the case that the Kirmoon sisters were not present, he would go. He lives for the adventure, plain and simple. His thoughts turn to Suny: "Is she really so naive that she would spread that filth without forethought?" He recalled someone saying that she was a temple girl at some point, so the matter was not out of the question. Morgaard knew that the working girls could quickly incapacitate a whole army in a matter of days with such things if by ignorance or even by enemy design. It's just too bad that the cleric was not forewarned, it could have been fixed without any trouble by a flash of a holy hand. Of course, a person should not be screwing known bang-tails on out on campaign either - you have no idea where their hail from or of whos been hailing them the night before. "No matter, that issue is done with. On to bigger and better things..."
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