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When Strom finishes reading the tale to his companions from the logbook, he shuts the logbook and the sound thunders in the room. He puts it down, frowning and feeling sad. "A sad tale to be sure. The lad's had a hard life to be sure. It's no wonder he's turned up the way he has.. Well, at least the mystery's been solved. We should go back and confront him. I think there's more to it, him sending us here, than just someone going crazy."
As Strom finishes telling the tale from the logbook, he shuts the log and puts it down with a frown. "A sad tale to be sure.. The lad's had a hard life. Can hardly blame him for the state he's in.. Well, atleast our mystery is solved. I must say, it wouldn't be surprised if there eas more to it for him, sendin' us here. But we'll see when we return. He looks tonhis companions to gauge their reaction.
As a reflex, Strom puts his left arm in front of his face with shield, as if to shield him from the cloud.
And it somewhat seems to work, Strom not catching the brunt of the cloud in his face. He then wildly swing his flail at the creature before him,through the fog.
And severly mamages to hit the creature in the face.
"Aye, those potions seem like a good idea to me", Strom replied while nodding to his companions. "I'd like one for meself, to use in a pinch." Strom steps forward after listening to the tale about Gandros and prepares to make the trade with the beggar king. "Well, it seems the more we get to know Gandros, the more it confirms how crazy he is!"
Strom swings his flail for a moment longer after the thug's leader dissappears. Satisfied that he left the stage, he stops swinging and clips the handle of the flail on his belt. He looks around at the carnage and rummages through some of the belongings from the thugs. Turning to his comrades, he whispers "What about we give them a portion of the gold and let them keep the armour and weapons from the thugs? They can decide to sell it or use it for somethin' else then."
Strom puts the rags over his head, fortunatly one adapted to his dwarven size. He manages to hang it over his body however he has to lose his shield. The shield would've been an obvious giveaway. He places it to the wall close to him, hoping it will not get spotted. He moves forward, positioning himself close enough to the Almsman. "Alright, I'm ready as I'll ever be."
Coming from a family of dwarven engineers, the structure of the tunnel shouldn't be as puzzling to Strom as it apparently is. It must be because of human engineering. So shabby compared to dwarven engineering. Either way, Strom is glad his companions could make sense of it. "Aye, let's disarm it and then burn them to damnation!"
Hearing the thugs being altered to their presence, Strom runs forward as fast as he can, which isn't that fast, raising his shield and swinging his flail. Uttering a dwarven battle cry, he hopes to strike fear into his opponents. Sadly the way is blocked by Brand, but he attempts to shield him nonetheless. "Stay behind my shield if you can!", he says to Brand.
"It seems like the one o'er there is workin' on something.", Strom squeezes his eyes while trying to sneak closer to the room.
As Strom moves a bit closer, he hears a metallic sound behind him. As if something got knocked together. He swiftly looked forward, hoping they were still unseen. Unlikely however, he thought to himself.
After wading through the sewer waters and it taking more effort than he hoped it would, Strom appreciates Hrothman going ahead to scout up the room in front of them. The wet clothes on his body fortunatly have no effect on his mobility, however it does all feel heavier. He also feels a little ill.
"Hmm, I wouldn't mind going in flail swinging however we might want to question one or two of them, right? So let's not go in too rough lads and lasses." With that, Strom draws his shield and flail and waits to see what his companions think. In the meantime, Strom tries to see into the light to try and see what's happening.
Arriving at the docks with his friends, it was bustling with activity as you would expect from the docks. Filled with cargo crates, aromas of various nice things, such as spice, and aroma's of less pleasant things. As Strom trudges on, he notices some sailors keeping their eyes on them. Strange, adventurers are no uncommon sight in the docks, he thinks. As they arrive at the pipe, Strom asks "Is this it? Do we go in here?" Somewhat hoping his companions tell him this is all a bad dream, he quickly realizes this must be it. "I can try and pry it open".
As Strom strides out of the office together with his companions he mumbles "Hmph, what is he thinking? Asking us to come back after finding the portal to call in an expert group. What does he think, that we're errand boys?" Slightly fuming Strom heads off to the local blacksmith and see if he's got some leads. Asking around at the local blacksmith for some leads.
Nodding towards his companions and itching for something more adventurous than watching waves from a ship, which they've done for the past days, Strom heads out the room first. There, the venture-captain stands in wait. "We've come to a decision to check out his story. We're off into.. The sewers. But first, another round of ale!", Strom marches off to the table and grabs one of the cups standing there.
Crazy as this story sounds, Strom for a moment thinks of the possibility that his man speaks the truth. That doesn't really make the situation any better. He looks at his companions and speaks "Well, whether it's all true or not, our mission is to get to the bottom of this. We might as well get started. Maybe we should start at the docks and look for any sewer openings?"
As soon as the halfling brings some ale and pastries, Strom helps himself to some servings. A little bit more than his share even. Dividing his attention equally between his food, drink and the tale that is told by the man. He listens intently to the story, trying to make sense of it all. Strom hopes to gather some clues about the way the man ended up here. "Sewers.. not a pleasant place but the stench'll fade after a few days. Nothing we can't handle.", Strom says while replying to Brand.
With boots clanking on the ground and his flail making noise hanging by his side, Strom planted his feet in front of one of the tables. Scanning it for some ale or what not, he failed to find any and grumbled. He rubbed his hands, trying to warm them up a little and spoke. "At least it's nice and warm here. A nice change from the ship." The dwarf looked sturdy and energetic, despite having had such a long journey."Talk to him we will, but do you have some food and ale perhaps, in the meantime?"
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