As Sarpis begins mumbling his spell, Kelborn strains to hear, hoping he can decipher which spell he is casting. He also draws his bow.
Sarpis speaks the words too fluently for Kelborn to decipher, blending one to the other with great expertise. Klyndak, however, recognizes the spell.
Sarpis's words are designed to transform the very matter of his body into something less solid.
Sir Manfred shouts "You are under arrest!". Then charges across the room to try to knock Sarpis to the floor.
Ovirid is paying more attention to the budding knight than to the drama at the throne and is unable to respond in time.
Sir Manfred shouts "You are under arrest!". Then charges across the room to try to knock Sarpis to the floor.
The paladin knocks Sarpis on his generous tush but half a second after impact, Sarpis's form becomes incorporeal. For those not familiar with wizards, it looks as if Manfred hit Sarpis so hard he disintegrated, leaving only a puff of smoke. The adventurers having seen 'The Creep' do the same thing, however, know that Sarpis has taken on a gaseous form and may return to be more of a nuisance later.
"See which way 'e is blowin'," I order, "'E can't be stayin' in that form forever!"
Orlan rushes forward a half-second behind Manfred. His eyes widen at the sight of Sarpis disappearing. And he casts about as if he'll somehow sniff the Guildmaster out of the air.
"Sure'n he's gone an' turned hisself inta a whiff o' smoke like that would-be goblin-king," the dwarf grumbles.
Next, Orlan's eyes fall on the Duke-of-Fat-All-Nothin'...
He points with his throwing hammer at the man. "What be the meanin' o' yer visit here with the likes o' Sarpis?" he demands. It's clear from the tone of Orlan's voice, he's simply looking for something physical to lash out at with his mounting frustration.
The Dofan protests his innocence ... "You! You sent me with a letter. Kerrigan ... Lord Kerrigan sent me back with one. Paid me for it too. The guildmaster insisted on coming when Kerrigan told him what it was what was in yer letter. Ye can't be accusing someone of something and not expecting them to be angry."
By his hurt tone of voice, you think the last part was as much about him, Orlan you insensitve swine, as it was about Sarpis.
"Come, gentlemen! There is no need to bicker at this point! Sarpis (if that is his real name) has already left, and we should be focused on finding where he's gone, as per His Majesty's orders! Orlan, I understand you're upset at the scum escaping, but perhaps quite literally shooting the messenger is not the best course of action?"
"And you," he speaks as he turns to the Dofan. "Perhaps it would be best if you were to tell us any information you have on Sarpis as well as help us look for him in order to ingratiate yourself with our kind host, who suddenly has an army to back up his edicts..."
"And you," he speaks as he turns to the Dofan. "Perhaps it would be best if you were to tell us any information you have on Sarpis as well as help us look for him in order to ingratiate yourself with our kind host, who suddenly has an army to back up his edicts..."
"Huh?" responds Dofan, before adding helpfully, "Oh. Ummm. He's the guildmaster. He masters the guild."
"Follow that man," I cry again, "Be stoppin' this bickerin' while the enemy is gettin' away. At least be seein' as ta his direction."
"Huh?" responds Dofan, before adding helpfully, "Oh. Ummm. He's the guildmaster. He masters the guild."
"Right. Which guild? You must help me out, here. I'm new to the region. Also, have you ever heard of anyone impersonating Sarpis?"
Upon hearing Klyndak's cries: "Hold that thought."
Kelborn runs outside the throne room in the direction that Sarpis ran (ie: floated).
Kelborn and two dozen Kannonfodders follow Sarpis out the doorway and begins to float down the stairs. Unfortunately for Sarpis, the wind at this level is too strong for him to resist and he is pulled off of the spires and swirling away over the valley. The cloud of fog seems to be able to pull itself down slowly in the wind, like a kite being reeled in, but it drifts hundreds of feet away before you lose sight of it.
Kelborn returns to report his findings to Klyndak and to continue his conversation with the Dofan.
Kelborn returns to report his findings to Klyndak and to continue his conversation with the Dofan.
Dozens of Kannonfodders return to report their findings to King Klyndak and continue their various mutterings.
Sir Manfred returns to the throne room and salutes Klyndak. "Your Majesty, I apologize if I acted precipitously, but when I saw that... supernatural evil seem to boil off of him to fill the room...". He stops at this, still unable to verbalize exactly what he saw.
As i take in the various reports and listen to the knight describe his vision of evil, I scowl.
"Seems like this guildmaster is after bein' a rather nasty individual. We will 'ave ta be sendin' word ta Kerrigan o' 'is threats. Somethin' is tellin' me that this man might be 'avin' more ta do wit' the comin' orcs than not. Which brings us ta the issue at 'and."
Standing in front of the throne, I speak loudly in dwarven to the Kannonfodders in the room, "Good dwarves. Let me welcome you and your beards to the halls of your fathers. It has lain empty for too many years but its stone is still strong and it waits for the ringing of hammers and the toil of picks. Unfortunately your return has not been all joy and song for you have seen that there are strange and evil forces that are still laboring against us. In the mines below, strange monsters still lurk, strange crab like beasts that eat the brains of their victims. There are also kobolds in the area. But an even more pressing duty is the army of orcs that is coming this way. It is imperative that I and my fellow laborers go to meet this horde and assess the threat. This surveying expedition must be on foot by morning. We have until then to make plans and reintroduce you to your ancestors halls."
"Good dwarves. Let me welcome you and your beards to the halls of your fathers."
"Horrah!" shout nearly fifty Kannonfodders.
" It has lain empty for too many years but its stone is still strong and it waits for the ringing of hammers and the toil of picks."
"Horrah!" shout nearly fifty Kannonfodders. "Let the hammers ring!"
" Unfortunately your return has not been all joy and song for you have seen that there are strange and evil forces that are still laboring against us. "
The sound of grumbling and muttering fill the room.
"In the mines below, strange monsters still lurk, strange crab like beasts that eat the brains of their victims."
The sound of grumbling and muttering stops dead. Worried looks are exchanged.
" There are also kobolds in the area."
"Horrah!" shout nearly fifty Kannonfodders.
" But an even more pressing duty is the army of orcs that is coming this way."
"Horrah!" shout nearly fifty Kannonfodders. "Let the axes swing!"
" It is imperative that I and my fellow laborers go to meet this horde and assess the threat. This surveying expedition must be on foot by morning. We have until then to make plans and reintroduce you to your ancestors halls."
The sound of grumbling and muttering fill the room. Worried looks are exchanged.
"Your majesty," speaks Tareg at last, "You would nah be after goin' without your army, would ye?"
I look thoughtful for a moment.
"I have been troubled about leaving the spires undefended whilst going out to meet the orcs. I fear we would return and find that the verminous kobolds had trapped our very beds. And yet, I know that each of you would gladly march against the savages that come against our halls. It is a dilemma - Perhaps half should go and half should stay."
At the king's order, Ovirid hustles out the door and after the mist-that-was-man, watching it disppear into the valley with a low growl.
He returns to the throne room with the Kannonfodders and the others to share the disappointing results of the pursuit with the king.
While Quarrel doesn't speak dwarven, he's able to figure out that the conversation is about "orcs" and fighting.
"Beetlerajahs!" Quarrel cries triumphantly surprising the Kannonfodders who had assumed the bugbear in the corner was stuffed. Hands reach for axes until they see how the King and Lord Orlan look affectionatedly on their goblinoid friend.
I look thoughtful for a moment.
"I have been troubled about leaving the spires undefended whilst going out to meet the orcs. I fear we would return and find that the verminous kobolds had trapped our very beds. And yet, I know that each of you would gladly march against the savages that come against our halls. It is a dilemma - Perhaps half should go and half should stay."
"Your Majesty, if I may be so bold as to interrupt... Though my time at the military academy was short-lived, there is one lesson that I have certainly not forgotten: never divide your forces if it is avoidable. Numbers is what wins battles, so keeping a large army together is most important of all."
"Another point: though I understand the desire to strike quickly and decisively, we have a keep hear with many defensible positions; we would be foolish to meet the orcs on even footing when we can have the advantage of the Spires!"
Kelborn is clearly getting swept up as he speaks, becoming more and more forceful as he goes.
"I think it would be best to claim a defensive position here and wait until the orcs make the first move. We should be ready for them, however. Perhaps we can take a page from our kobold nuisances and prepare some surprises for them? I have some ideas..."
"Beetlerajahs?" asks Quarrel looking suspiciously at Kelborn.
"Beetlerajahs?" asks Quarrel looking suspiciously at Kelborn.
"Also, why is this thing here, and what is it saying?"
Quarrel glares at Kelborn. He mouths something but does not say it out loud. You suspect he mouthed the word, "Pansy" but can't be sure.
Already a little annoyed at having not had a chance to burn the guildmaster a little before he fled in his wimpy gaseous form Yin turns her attention to Kelborn with a frown, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"He is not a thing. His name is Quarrel and he is a good ally to have. Just try listening and thinking. 'Beetlerajahs'.. Battle Ragers, strong fighters"
With a small affectionate smile she looks up at the bugbear and gives a small nod.
"Aye...I be vouchin' fer this one," Orlan nods toward Quarrel and eyes down the suspicions of Kelborn and the Kannonfodders.
"An' while I be appreciatin' the lad's attempt ta apply some logic o' defense and warfare," the dwarf continues, "I be trustin' in the faith o' Torag the Great Strategist ta bless both the defense o' these Spires an' a foray outside its walls ta chase down the enemy."
"We also have allies in the valley," Orlan states, "Lord Kerrigan is preparin' ta defend his keep, while also hopin' we can whittle down these orcs 'fore they arrive at his doorstep. An' I say why stop there? Why don't we show these humans in the lowlands what real dwarves do when faced with an orc horde? I say we cut'em all down. I say we wipe'em out and show Kerrigan just how strong an ally we dwarves can be in these lands."
Orlan looks around at his assembled kinsmen with pride.
"Before yer arrival," he explains, "We were set ta defend the Spires ta the bitter end lest they fall inta orc hands. But now that yuh're here, Torag has presented us with a greater opportunity. Now, we can protect our home and take the fight straight ta the orcs. We've got us a foothold in the halls o' our ancestors. An' we're not givin' it up...not ta beasts, not ta manipulative men like Sarpis, and most certainly not ta a bunch o' orc knuckledraggers!"
He pauses for effect and then gestures toward Klyndak with his throwing hammer. "There be yer king!" he intones, "An' he be ready ta smash these orcs from the mountains an' teach 'em a lesson they'll never forget! Ta do it, he needs some o' yuh ta hold these Spires 'til he returns. Yuh need ta consolidate our gains. Improve the defenses o' the Spires. An' be prepared ta welcome back yer victorious brothers when we come marchin' home!"
Orlan looks around once more and then bellows to the rafters, "Now who's ready ta reclaim the birthright o' our ancestors...no longer the Hammerfoes and the Kannonfodders...but now fully become the Foehammers and the Canyonfathers?!"
A huge orcish looking fellow with a dwarven-make chain shirt and a very large sword strapped across back steps into the room.
"Did someone say BATTLE? HOORAH!!" he exclaims mimicing the Kannonfodder's cheers.
"LET'S SHOW THOSE ORC KNUCKLEDRAGGERS BY GORUM!! HOOO HOOO!!" he belts out with a a manic peal of genuine laughter.
"Greetings Kannonfodders and other friends, I'm Hru." he bows to those closest to him humbly.
DM:
Orisons: Detect Magic,Stabilize, Resistance,Create water
1st Level: Shield Of Faith, Blessx2, Magic Weapon,
2nd level:Hold Person, Shatter, Spiritual Weapon
Sir Manfred salutes Hru as he makes his introduction to the Kannonfadders before approaching Klyndak once more.
"Your Majesty, have you given thought as to your strategy? Are we to march to reinforce Lord Kerrigan at his keep, or to intercept the enemy before they get there? Ambush them in a narrow defile? Let them attack the fort before hitting them from behind? Attack their base while they are away? Your strategy may dictate how many of your forces you commit and what they need by way of equipment."
Already a little annoyed at having not had a chance to burn the guildmaster a little before he fled in his wimpy gaseous form Yin turns her attention to Kelborn with a frown, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"He is not a thing. His name is Quarrel and he is a good ally to have. Just try listening and thinking. 'Beetlerajahs'.. Battle Ragers, strong fighters"
With a small affectionate smile she looks up at the bugbear and gives a small nod.
"You're right, of course. I'm not used to the goings on in this realm. To say that this is wholly dissimilar to my life before the Spires would be an understatement. I apologize."
Kelborn readies himself to interject during Orlan's speech, but as he sees the crowd of Kannonfodders get swept up in his words, he thinks it wise to remain quiet for a change.
Orlan looks around at his assembled kinsmen with pride.
They look back at you expectantly.
"Before yer arrival," he explains, "We were set ta defend the Spires ta the bitter end lest they fall inta orc hands. But now that yuh're here, Torag has presented us with a greater opportunity. Now, we can protect our home and take the fight straight ta the orcs. We've got us a foothold in the halls o' our ancestors. An' we're not givin' it up...not ta beasts, not ta manipulative men like Sarpis, and most certainly not ta a bunch o' orc knuckledraggers!"
"Horrah!" cry the Kannonfodders.
He pauses for effect and then gestures toward Klyndak with his throwing hammer. "There be yer king!" he intones, "An' he be ready ta smash these orcs from the mountains an' teach 'em a lesson they'll never forget! Ta do it, he needs some o' yuh ta hold these Spires 'til he returns. Yuh need ta consolidate our gains. Improve the defenses o' the Spires. An' be prepared ta welcome back yer victorious brothers when we come marchin' home!"
The Kannonfodders cheer even more loudly.
Orlan looks around once more and then bellows to the rafters, "Now who's ready ta reclaim the birthright o' our ancestors...no longer the Hammerfoes and the Kannonfodders...but now fully become the Foehammers and the Canyonfathers?!"
A final rousing cheer from most of the assembled dwarves and sustained applause. Two of the older dwarves seem less enthusiastic. One makes his way over to Orlan.
A huge orcish looking fellow with a dwarven-make chain shirt and a very large sword strapped across back steps into the room.
"Did someone say BATTLE? HOORAH!!" he exclaims mimicing the Kannonfodder's cheers.
"LET'S SHOW THOSE ORC KNUCKLEDRAGGERS BY GORUM!! HOOO HOOO!!" he belts out with a a manic peal of genuine laughter.
"Greetings Kannonfodders and other friends, I'm Hru." he bows to those closest to him humbly.
DM:** spoiler omitted **
The Kannonfodders raise their eyebrows again, but after seeing Quarrel, they are less easily surprised. There is some muttering but less suspicion than before. You do hear the words, "...odd company...".
At Kelborn's words Yin gives a bright grin and without warning throws her arms around him in a loose hug. "Apology accepted" She chirps "Life out here is always interesting!"
A final rousing cheer from most of the assembled dwarves and sustained applause. Two of the older dwarves seem less enthusiastic. One makes his way over to Orlan.
Orlan proudly tucks away his throwing hammer and grins at Klyndak from across the room as he folds his arms across his armored chest. 'That ought to rally the troops,' he thinks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the approach of the older Kannonfodder. He nods respectfully at the longbeard and reaches out to shake the dwarf's hand in welcome to the Spires.
"A rousing speech, young Orlan," says the old man flatly. "As you said 'there be our king'."
The old man pauses for a full minute staring at Orlan and then asks, "We've found our king. Is he yours as well, or is he a cousin only?"
During the discussions that follow, the adventurers learn that the Kannonfodders came here from Janderhoff through the mountains attempting to follow mountain trails and tunnels that allowed passage long ago. At one point, they were forced off the trail by a spectral dwarven army that seemed to be tasked with defending the trail. They had to go around.
Not something you need to take care of right away, but should you ever want a direct trade route with Janderhoff, ...
During the chatter following Orlan's speech, I look for the young man from Kerrigan in his messenger's outfit.
"What are ye knowin' o' these orcs," I ask him, when I find him, "Every scrap o' information will be 'elpin' us I'm thinkin'."
The old man pauses for a full minute staring at Orlan and then asks, "We've found our king. Is he yours as well, or is he a cousin only?"
"He be both," Orlan smiles, "Family and liege. An' Torag willin'...he'll wear that crown long and well."
The old Kannonfodder smiles and then nods across the room to the other elders without saying a word.
During the chatter following Orlan's speech, I look for the young man from Kerrigan in his messenger's outfit.
"What are ye knowin' o' these orcs," I ask him, when I find him, "Every scrap o' information will be 'elpin' us I'm thinkin'."
"I could draw a map of where we saw them," he says somewhat eagerly, "would that help ... sir ... your majesty?".
"I could draw a map of where we saw them," he says somewhat eagerly, "would that help ... sir ... your majesty?".During the chatter following Orlan's speech, I look for the young man from Kerrigan in his messenger's outfit.
"What are ye knowin' o' these orcs," I ask him, when I find him, "Every scrap o' information will be 'elpin' us I'm thinkin'."
"That would be dependin' on yer skill as a cartographer I'm supposin', but aye lad, let's be findin' ye some ink 'n paper."
I then hunt up Orlan to see if he can be making a map of where he met the orcs as well...
I then hunt up Orlan to see if he can be making a map of where he met the orcs as well...
"Sure'n I can be makin' a map, cousin," Orlan agrees as he excuses himself from the company of the older dwarf, "Yuh might be wantin' ta ask Quarrel 'bout any places he might've noticed the orcs as well. He was the one that let me know where he'd seen the group I found."
I then hunt up Orlan to see if he can be making a map of where he met the orcs as well..."Sure'n I can be makin' a map, cousin," Orlan agrees as he excuses himself from the company of the older dwarf, "Yuh might be wantin' ta ask Quarrel 'bout any places he might've noticed the orcs as well. He was the one that let me know where he'd seen the group I found."
"Ahem. Not t' be fer snoopin', yer majesty, but I was fer 'earin' yer request fer infermation. Ah'm fer thinkin' th' knight," he nods toward Manfred,"'n meself could be fer scratchin' out the location of our battle, as well."
He ponders on it for a bit. "Though that might be fer bein' too fer from th' Spires t' be of interest..."
Hru watches carefully hoping to get a look at a map if someone should produce one. Wisdom dictates that he's not forthright amongst the Kannonfodders given a Dwarves natural learyness of orc-blood. He tries and to pick out a few of the younger ones that might bear a resemblance to Clareg or Dareg but soon finds it hopeless-they all look alike after a minute. After what seems like an eternity he's had enough and can't contain himself any more.
He suggests loudly "While this is in the early planning stages, I suggest we set up a watch and patrol. Any able bodies I can lead to show the lay of the defenses as they stand and the problem areas come with me. Gorum's favor is with us"