"Most were," he pauses, considering his words. "Prince Grungsdi had an aunt, Glawlilla Darkbraids, who his youngest bother had executed. She was executed becasue of her talents. Talents who as a diviner of both past and future snippets of information. This divine connection with Torag was her downfall." he stops and takes a deep breath. "She saw the king's youngest son kill his father. She saw the youngest son make the deal with Grimm. She saw Grimm assassinate the first in line for the throne."
He straightens and looks at Nym, "She saw your house being destroyed by Orcus Cultist...the remaining factions of House DeVir. Their house survived, albeit, many did parrish. She saw an envoy from House Devir help the youngest son, Prince Prung, become King Prung Hammerford."
The dwarf turns and looks at Nym, "Yes, I did." He nods. "I was waiting to tell you...at least until, I passed the royal message and saw fer myself that you were honorable." He seems particularly proud of associating Nym with the word honorable, as opposed to his description of Duncan's son. "I heard there was good dark elf help'n out. didn't quite believe it fer meself. Varl, Nib and mayor Featherton all said you could be trust'd."
I'll pause here to let you respond before relaying some of what he knows about House Devir's involvement with the happenings with Grung's homeland.
coercing someone into acting friendly takes a bit longer than one conversation.
minutes: 1d4 ⇒ 4 x 10. At least 40 mintes.
Turrand spits a glob of phlegm on the ground. He is clearly hostile towards you although the talking sword has shifted him into a less heated tone.
"Your Honorable son is a traitor to his kin. Sold his soul for a few coppers, cheap swill, and power. He joined forces with duegar and ambushed Prince Grungsdi's oldest brother in a tunnel. Slaughtered Prince, Brung He spits in disgust.
"Sir, I do have a message for you. Your brother King Prung has put your aunt, Glawlilla Darkbraids, to death. Courtesy of the executioner, Grimm Sharpest Redhammer." He pauses, then continues. "There's more I have to say about your homeland. Your brother is working with evil forces, he has ordered all able persons to the mines...he seems to be looking for something." He stops and gathers his thoughts, "King Prung, General Grimm, and an envoy from the underdark, House DeVir, have been searching and toiling for some hidden gem."
As the pleasantries are exchanged another dwarf shuffles up from the back. Clearing his throat he interjects himself. "Prince Grungsdi Hammerford from the Highhelm of Druma clan?" He asks officially. He bows after he says the formal name. He lifts up.
Everyone should be a bit surprised by hearing Grungsdi's actual name and title.
"I'm Turrand Goldfeet and my uncle Govreas Goldfeet has sent word from your clan." You recall that Govreas was one of your father's oldest advisors. He stops to let the information sink in but then he gives Duncan a strange look and blurts out, "You Basterd...your seed is treacherous."
Meanwhile, Nym is still up in arms about the axe...
I don't recall I rolled SR, but a 19 would have been pretty easy for her to do.
Nym mumbles something about finding Grung, turns abruptly and walks back towards Nib's and Varl's place. Turrand shrugs at Karnog, Felic, and Karnog, "Well, I'm with him need to find Grung."
Nym double times to get back into the town. When you get there you see a nake Desmond with two swords in his hands. There are three city guards talking to him.
Turrand stops dead in his tracks and reaches down for his hammer. "D...d..did you feel that? Comin' from the alley. Cold..." His voice trails off.
Nym Omriwin wrote: Nym starts to head out, but stops and turns around 2hen the dwarf addresses him
"Greetsings Turrr'd, Izs Nym. Izs looks fors Gru'ng, yezz. Hez abovz dur'gerz likez youz."
Nym
The dwarf wipes his callused hands on his apron. It takes him a moment to figure out the speech pattern but he eventually pieces the meaning together. "Ainit no druergar and neith'r is he. Ain't even proud to say there's a bloodline there but I'm sure you ain't meanin' no offense." He pauses for a moment. "I's need to find 'em too. Got message for 'em from some kin."
Nym:
You see several guards move towards you but then you hear, "Bedder hold on there. Didja jus ask fer Grung? You know 'im?" A grizzled dwarf pipes up from near the smithy. The dwarf has a balding pate but more than makes up for it in his braided beard. His looks at you suspiciously but continues, "I'm Turrand."
The crowd is laughing hysterically as Karnog mentions orcs following Torag. Before Karnog gets serious. "Y'spinning a guud yarn master dwarf, 'p'rhaps ye actually a follower of Cayden Cailean, his follow'rs tella rip roaring tale."
"Rappan Athuk, the dungeon of graves. You said ye were in the tunnels."
"TUNNELS! You three were in the dungeon of the graves and survived! My, my give those MEN a tankard no wonder y'got a new helm and you new armor." He points at Karnog's shiny fullplate. "Must've struck gold."
The tavern folk have noticeable scotched in closer to hear the tales, most laughing at the dwarf's comments of not knowing who he is. They don't realize he actually serious.
"Hey, so wher'd y'dig that one out of frog's belly at?" a distinctive dwarf's voice yells over the laughter. "tell us the tale."
"Sheriff Ostland and his merry band of hoods...'ware that Felrara - human woman gone astray - that has the sheriff's." He holds his hand out to indicate a cup. "Y'git the meaning. They roam the Coast Rood mostly...they've a got a hideout west of the graveyard 'bout 15 miles ... so I've heard, and it's west of coast road to." He gulps his next mead.
"Purty much best kept secret in the land that the graveyard is "THE" entrance into the dungeon of death. Hard to miss it." he drinks more, "Got a map? I can give y'some indication fer these landmarks."
The dwarf belches loudly, "Bedder... more room fer beer." He follows this with a toot, "double the space now." He looks at his empty tankard then rubs his stubby fingers through his beard, "Whatcha lookin' t'know? Always up fer a bargain."
"I'm 'aapy t'drink wit ya," the dwarf responds. "Just got in from Zelkor's Ferry...ya know the hamlet in DragonMarsh Lowlands. Looked like an experienced but boisterous group were heading of to try the Mouth of Doom and that passage into the Dungeon of Graves. It's a huge, stone demon face, visage of Orcus, carved into the hillside. Even those bumbling folks will stumble upon that entrance." He swallows the rest of his mead and signals for another round. Just tossing out one more potential lead/entrance for your group.
"See lots and hear lots of strange things traveling back and forth the ferry route. Information is valuable."
He nods at Karnog's comment about leaving dead goblins and purging the land. "Lands filled wit plenty of vile creatures." Quaffing another mead then ripping inot a loaf of bread slathering it with honey butter, "Have y'been to the graveyard yet...brave one?" your not sure if he chuckled between bites with that last comment.
"Best hunny spiced ale and mead y'ever had." The dwarf comments. "Hunny comes from Abbot's apiary and the spice's are a Jenar's secret blend, so here anytime I can."
"Where've ya been, t'git back alive' A curious dwarf asks as he motions to bring another round of ales for the newcomers.
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