Sluenvar the Cur's page

Sluenvar leads you out the west gate of Graulton, and through the network of tunnels. He mutters a word or two with each area you enter - enlightening you with the location names - which isn't itself terribly helpful since it all looks much the same.
It does help you find your way to catch up to him... as he disappears into tiny holes to reappear down one hall of an intersection... "Fankle Ward ..."

After roughly twenty minutes of travel as said, Sluenvar stops and pauses before placing a key in the lock of a reinforced dark oak door.
He scribbles a few more notes onto the map. He stuffs it into a scroll tube. By the way he puts the cap on, it looks like it is an airtight seal.

He hands it to Anumil. "Keep the map safe..."
He then unlocks the door, and scrambles off.

Sluenvar obsessively fingercombs his hair in front then behind his ears while frowning at his map, until Anumil's question registers. "Chances are better for the cultists' bodies to broken into something gruesome... and nonfunctional."

"They hold the Chieftain of Schulfjarn hostage while their droopy-face imposter rules upstairs. They scare the lovely lumps and bony bits off the poor folk of Graulton so's they get free reign.... Get rid of the cultists, aaaand everything else'll just work its way out. Win win win."

"4000 gold to each of you is the deal. You'll know'em when you see'em. They all carry broken skull symbols of some offworld god, and don't like straying too far from the lower channels. 'Bout where I found you ringing the bell by the underwarren gates." He looks at Varian points to a spot on the map.
"Too much to explain and not necessary to do it. You are in the quadrivium... several thousand year ruins of an arcane academy. Used to be four worlds linked together - only one of these remains." He points on the map where "altar and portal" are written - your target, the cultists' lair.
>sketchy area<

"Won't take more than twenty minutes to get there. I will take you this far... the last locked door."

Sluenvar lowers his head, and rubs to metal key ring nervously in front of his mouth as he speaks to Sunny. "I am sorry I can offer no better lodgings, m'lady. Sorrier still no better to be had. Sorry... so sorry. I will... I need something to write on. I.. I will be right back... excuse me."

He deftly climbs up a stack of crates and unlocks a "trap" door in the ceiling. A ladder slides out in an angle. Sluenvar climbs up and shuts it behind him.

Sluenvar appears at your side, and directs you to the stone building in front of you. "My place..."
A half-ogre is sleeping out front. His bulk is securely blocking the door. His head rests on one arm and his club. The other hand uncouthly roams and scratches as his snoring softens.
"Mmm... hate to wake him, but...." He pinches the half-ogre's nose until he sputters and blinks. He half-rolls, half-scoots out of the way... going back to sleep.

Though the interior of Sluenvar's place is a completely open floorplan, it is nearly filled with stacked crates. The placement of the stacks essentially make up hallways and rooms.
Sluenvar leads the half-orcs to a large common room just inside. "Have half as much bedding as there are of you, but better than sleeping out there."

"Shops and pubs are all on the ground..." "I'd steer clear of the upper district... unless you have reason, there's no reason to go up there. I'll scribble up some directions for you here when I getta chance. plenty of time to poke around if you've interest."

Sluenvar stops ... he has barely cast a glance at Sunny. He diverts his eyes as if shy or nervous.
Though he keeps his head down, he looks Anumil in the eye through the gaps in the crisscross grating between you.
with his reply... "Gold? Weapons, armor... nice trinkets... your choice, sir yup. Four thousand gold to each of you for culling the cultists seems more than fair to me." He then moves on... apparently not expecting or trying to dodge any haggling.

Sluenvar reaches the end of the corridor before he notices the duergar at Sunny's side.
"Ah... another has left the Cruel Citadel. I suppose you won't spill the beans either... The others - your kin who have come here, won't say what drove them away from their commanders."
"Mmmph...Hate that... knowing there's things worth knowing that I don't know..."

Sluenvar now looks and speaks directly to you. "Not from Schulfjarn? Have trouble trusting those who see no profit. Be willing to throw some clink your way if you're able to free Hrulshaga. Now... If you are able to root out this entire nest of cultists mucking around on our borders, I will reward you greatly..." He scrambles away out of sight, then you hear a heavy "click" and the "shunk" as the iron gate opens.

Beyond, there is a hallway of the same perfect stone. The width is about 15', as is the height of the ceilings.
Along the side - about eight feet up, there is a long iron grate two stone blocks high. It is a tiny protected hallway running alongside... you now see Sluenvar within. He looks like a terribly hairy creepy halfling with a ring of keys around his neck. The normal sized keys hang on him - nearly dragging.

Sluenvar keeps pace with you "The half-orcs with you can stay in my warehouse... they will be safe until you return. Discuss your fee now? How juicy a carrot will it take for you to bloody your swords and free Chieftain Hrulshaga?"

I'm close enough to ready for you to get an idea of my character, I think. I added notes at the bottom including another option for character class, since I noticed the number of ranger applicants.

OK this is the alias... working on profile and background. Essentially what I am going after (should I happen to make the cut), is having been the neglected property of Lorimer, and should DH play the ghost follow his command or be randomly rewarded to another PC in his will.