NPC - Porter Deepsilver's page

Seeing the man's confusion and obvious distress, Porter quickly throws up his arms and takes a couple of steps back.

"No. No. It wasn't any of my doing. I only brought holy water, blessed by a priest of Erastil, and a bit of burning agent. She poured the water over the corpse and that magic and stopped...whatever was happening out there."

Porter looks to the others his eyes pleading for support, "It wasn't anything I did. I swear it was just holy water."

Porter steps over to where Kams stands guard over the corpse. A few wisps of black energy still linger, but most of the necromantic magic has dissipated into the ether. Using the shovel, the dwarf lifts the bandit's head from the grave where Kams had kicked it. He carefully places the macabre trophy on a pile of wood next to the corps. Stepping back he says to Kams, "Step back if you would sir. Wouldn't want you to get caught in any splash."

Once the ranger is clear, Porter tosses the fragile flask onto remains where it shatters releasing the liquid which instantly bursts into flame. The substance burns white hot for several seconds easily lighting the dry wood. Soon enough the smell of burning flesh drifts into the air, but with the destruction of the body, the final remnants of the magic disappear completely.

Porter reaches an arm out to help steady Tityanna as the young woman breaks down in tears. Not understanding the source of her distress he says thinking she's concerned about the body and her brush with the evil magic, "Aye, I'll see the body burnt and taken care of. You and Master Kams have already done enough. This isn't something a young woman should have to see to anyway."

Giving her a light pat on the arm and a concerned look, he tries to guide her over to a large flat rock where she can sit and rest.

He turns to his brother looking down from the palisade with the others and shouts, "Burdo or one of you folk up there! Could you fetch Miss Ursula? I think Tityanna might be having a reaction to that magic or something!"

As dinner winds down and the sun sets beyond the western horizon, Porter pulls out a worn set of playing cards. With a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face he calls to Stephanus, Alaina and the two guardsmen, "Would any of you care to join in a friendly game of chance?"

Rolling his eyes Burdo says to his brother, "You still carrying that deck of bad luck around? You know you never win."

"Bah!" Porter replies, waving his hand at his stubborn brother. "It's not about winning, but sharing peoples company and having a good time." The sleeves of his robes slip down as he deftly shuffles the deck, the colorful top hat bobbing back and forth with each move the dwarf makes.

Shaking his head, Burdo walks toward the wagons, "Just don't loose your shirt, I'm going to check on the wagon and get some rest." Muttering something about one too many explosions muddling his a certain brother's mind, the miner disappears behind the wagons.

Easily ignoring Burdo, Porter turns back around and says, "So, who's in?"

The colorfully dressed dwarf stands up with a shout of triumph as the log jam gives way. The rumble and crash of the churning debris brings a sparkle to his eye and he watches with delight as the water level rapidly drops.

Ho! Ho! Did you see how well it reacted? It worked like a charm....Ow!

It's only then that he feels the tap of a fist on his shoulder from Burdo. Porter's brother points at Kams as he streaks past behind the horse.

"Used a bit much didn't you?" Says the taciturn Burdo.

Porter's smile turns into a slight grimace, "Well....I had to be sure."

Both dwarves, close their eyes and flinch as Kams enters and then bursts through the shrubs. The expressions repeat as the hapless man hits a rather deep puddle in the road sending up an impressive spray of muddy water. Finally the two sigh with relief as Thad manages to bring the horse and ranger to a stop.

Pushing his hat back from his eyes, Porter says in an exasperated voice, "That was...er...ummm....unfortunate."

Seeing that Kams is serious about actually using his device, Porter smiles broadly and despite the heavy rain, for just a second, his hat seems to stand a little taller.

Running back to his wagon he quickly gathers up a large flask-sized glass object and carefully walks it back to Kams.

The device itself is about the size of a standard, pint sized ale or brandy flask and is made up of two glass chambers linked by a series of tiny glass tubes. It would take several hours of examination to understand the inner workings of the dwarven device, but Porter does his best to describe the basics to Kams as he hands it over.

Pointing to the small upper chamber, "This is the main reactant, up here. Pull one of these pins, " He points to two finger-sized glass ring pins sticking out from the top of the flask, one colored red, one yellow. "And it breaks the seal allowing the reactant to flow into the explosive. There enough in there to blast a good sized hole through five or six feet of solid stone so it should take care of that log jam with little trouble."

Giving Kams a stern look, the dwarf adds. "Don't pull the red pin, that's for quick reactions only. It allows for only a five second delay. The yellow gives you a good thirty to sixty seconds before it should go off. I think that about covers...."

Burdo listening to the explanation, gives his brother a quick elbow in the ribs causing Porter to start. "What! Oh, Yes. Almost forgat. Don't rattle or shake it up too much while your carrying it. The cooling effect of the river water should help, but the explosive is just the slightest bit sensitive to shock or vigorous motion." He turns to give Burdo a bit of a glare, "There. Now that should cover everything. It's all perfectly safe really. Nothing to worry about. Should all work easy as pie."

With sideways glances toward Thad and the thing he just pulled from the bandit's chest, the two dwarfs step over to Kams.

"Bad business, that is." says Porter in a subdued voice. "That man's lucky to even have a chance to live."

"Bah! What did the fool expect. You associate with darkness, you'll die in darkness." Answers his brother following up his statement by spitting in the direction of the bandit's. "Each one of them deserves a rope around his neck I say."

Turning to Kams, they both listen to his questions. Burdo is the first to speak "Assuming you're willingly to risk your neck handling my brother's blasting juice, the best place will be toward the center of the log jam." He rubs his short beard in thought for a second then continues, "However, with the water this high and fast, we might be able to blow just one side and let the river do the rest of the work for us."

"My thoughts exactly Burdo, I'm thinking if we can blast one side, the rest should wash out enough for our purposes. But still it'll need to be out far enough to insure a good gap. But to answer our this good man's most vital question..."

They both turn back to Kams, broad grins on their faces, and say in unison, "Yes, you're going to get wet."

Taking a minute to think, Porter answers Kams' question with a bit of hesitation, "Well...I've something that might do the trick, but the substance is a little unstable." He goes off and opens a well packed and padded chest from the back of his wagon. Very carefully he pulls out a glass beaker filled with a clear, oily looking substance and slowly walks back over to Kams. Holding the beaker gently and steadily in both hands he says, "This should do it, but we need to get the container fairly close to the center of the dam without shaking it up too much."

Porter shrugs his shoulders as Alaina asks about the journey so far, "It's certainly been a bit more damp than I had hoped, but we can't choose the weather. Yet it's been most interesting and helpful to have you and your companions along." He sips at his drink carefully balancing to the movement of the wagon. "I doubt we would have escaped that pack of worgs with as little harm as we did if it weren't for the efforts and risk you and your friends took."

His eyes grow a little wide as their wagon at the rear of the caravan finally tops the rise and he is able to see the bridge and flooded area. "I was just about to say we were making good time considering, but this might cause quite a delay."

During a quiet moment before the party gets underway again, Porter Deepsilver steps over to Alaina a warm cup of tea in each hand. The dwarf is his usual colorful self, only much of his clothing is now covered in mud. All except his hat, which despite the rain, wind, and mud remains as bright and crooked as ever. He offers one of the cups to the young woman saying, "I thought you might enjoy a bit of warmth to cut through the chill this morning."

Despite Stephanus' attempts to engage Porter and Burdo in conversation, the two seem to be deep in their own thoughts. The talk of Worgs and the weather has dampened even the normally cheerful Porter's spirits. Once the wagons are underway, the two spend most of the morning carefully watching the surrounding countryside for any sign of the evil creatures or other danger.

Porter gets a far away look on his face in response to Alaina's question, "Yes, I've seen them before." A slight shudder runs through his body, causing his hat to quiver slightly like an autumn leaf in a chill winter breeze. "It was four winters ago when they came unexpectedly through our home high in the Icerim's. My brother and I had been down working the lower tunnels, a small silver vein, when we heard the first alarms. A raiding party of orcs and worgs had stumbled onto our clans small hold. We'd never had trouble with the creature before, but it had been an especially hard winter that year and we were unprepared..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing to keep his voice from breaking. Finally he continues the words quiet and sad,"By the time Burdo and I reached the upper tunnels it was already too late. They had breached our outer defenses and were pillaging the hold. I saw my best friend bitten nearly in half by one of the foul creatures. Blood flew everywhere as it shook him like a broken rag doll. Burdo nearly died trying to reach our sisters and mother, but was knocked unconscious before he could get to them. I just managed to pull him out of danger while watching my family fall to orcish blades."

A tear rolls down his cheek which he wipes away with the yellow-cuffed sleeve of his coat. "As far as I know, we were the only ones to escape. I was able to drag Burdo into a side tunnel and blow it behind us. I took small comfort in knowing I caught at least a handful of the devils in the blast."

Glancing over where his brother sits watching the darkness from their wagon he adds, "He's never been the same since that day..." His eyes focus back on the fire as he drifts off into thought.

Watching Zevac, Porter nods his head in sympathy with the half-orc. The motion causes his hat to slowly slip forward before he manages to push it back under control.

"Orcs are a dangerous lot and I've certainly no love for them myself. However, many in your situation seem more victims of circumstance than villains. I choose to judge a person by their deeds verses their actions or outer appearance."

With a gesture towards his own unusual clothing he says with a snort "Of course, my own appearance often causes...unusual reactions from many."

Turning his head, he joins Zevac in smelling the enticing aromas coming from the cook fire and then wanders over to see if he can assist with the meal preparation.

Burdo Deepsilver hit his brother on the shoulder as Porter takes the flask back from Zevac, "Bah! What're ya doin offerin that one anything of ours in the first place." His gray eyes glare with open distrust and hostility towards the half orc.

Face flushed with embarrassment, Porter turns on his brother and gives him a glare of his own. "This one wasn't responsible for what happened. I'm just bein' friendly, and there's no cause for bein' rude. After all, they're here to see us safe."

Burdo brusquely waves off his brothers admonition, turns and gruffly walks back over to his wagon and starts setting up a canvas to sleep under.

Porter turns back to Zevac, his hands once again adjusting the big, floppy hat and says, "Apologies for my brother, we've had some bad encounters with orcs and he's not an open, trusting soul by nature."

No worries Zevac. :)