There are six of these savages not lying on the ground but the fight has gone out of them at the shaman's command. Most commanders would envy such obedience in troops.
The shaman walks forward grinning and mumbling to himself:
"they come to death and walk and walking away the living in the dead to see the dead to not then they come to death and do not eat the eating of the dead and waking amongst the dead and then in whose name do I cry out and I watch the eating and to be eaten and I walk out amongst the dead and being dead among the living but they come and they walk to death and from death to undeath and the undead prey upon the dead as the dead do the living."
"What you be after now," I yell at the strange man, "Do ye not like the idea o' all yer men becomin' tomorrow' lunch?"
He interrupts his ramblings and looks at the dwarf "Is Kerrigan really alive? Never mind. Keep your secrets. If you live to see him again tell him ... tell him that we didn't all die. He left living soldiers up here. They made us eat ... eat ... they gave us a home."
Turning to the half-orc he says "You can heal, can't you? Help me. Heal these ones that lay dying and ... and I'll ensure none follow you up the stairs."
"Gorum's not going to like this" Hru chuckles (in orc)as he wipes his blade on his decimated opponent. He then turns to Klyndak and Rellios and asks in orc "What say you, do I help this lot? I think, should we have to retreat from yon spire" as he gestures towards the nearest tower "with any haste, we may find ourselves in the larder...heh!"
Orc: "I'm all for leaving them to rot, but since this mad shaman did at least help us get away...I feel it would be just to aid his request."
He turns towards Klyndak briefly, and follows up: "Of course, if its all the same to you...I'll be staying right here behind my bow in case anyone gets brave"
In dwarven:
"There they go again in the orc-talk," complains Dareg.
"Rude. It be rude. Like we have not been a fightin' right beside 'em all a this time," agrees Clareg.
In Dwarven I say,
"Be 'ealin' 'em if ye want," I say to the priest as I finish loading my crossbow and raise it up. "We will see then the caliber o' man eaters in these parts. If necessary we just chop 'em down again. After all, ye be 'avin' three dwarves wit' ye and they be after 'avin' none."
"So be it!" calls Hru in common holding his blade aloft he calls in orc to Gorum. "Gorum your chosen calls, aid me!"
Once again Hru's blade gleams with positive energy which then ripples out to 30 ft. "Receive Gorum's blessing, but know I can bestow his will as well! Trouble us no more, or you'll meet him unkindly!" (in common)
The skeletal shaman raises his bone staff in the air, copying Hru's gestures and mumbling in the language of the 'others'. When he is done, he makes bold and sweeping gestures and boastful sounds to the primitives as if claiming credit himself for Gorum's work.
Turning back to you, his smile wide, he says "If you wish to confront the Goblin Lord, you may need this. Kill him or do not come back this way." He places a silver dagger with a bone handle on the ground and kicks it toward you. The bone handle is carved with gruesome faces and figures that could only have come from a demented mind.
Hru eyeballs the shaman disdainfully "Gorum show me" he's heard to mutter in orc as he leans toward the dagger.
The dagger appears to be non-magical.
While Hru's healing power does not wake all of the men, their wounds stop bleeding as intensely and they rest more peacefully. The men who had been attacking you earlier now cautiously retreat dragging their fallen allies.
The shaman walks backwards keeping his eyes on the throneseekers, continuing to smile a smug, self-satisfied grin ... a grin that only slips for a moment when he steps backwards onto a caltrop ... refusing to admit that his victory has not been total, he ignores the pain and gingerly continues walking backwards.
The primitives retreat to their side of the bridge.
"Aye, well that was after bein' an experience o' sorts," I comment as I watch the primitive men retreat, "I just 'ope we won't be after 'avin' more trouble wit'them on the way back."
"Good work lads."
I turn and survey the path past the towers.
"Sounds like gobs 'n the like be makin' their 'omes in our peoples 'alls. Won't be the first time."
And feeling a little more refreshed myself from the priest's pouring out of energies, I heft my pack and begin to move on.
"Let's be after goin'. No rest fer the weary 'n all that."
Hru turns to Klyndak and Rellios and says in common "We'll be killing them again later, Gorum tells me." He the looks over at the Kannonfodder brothers and adds "My apologies good dwarves, but I don't know the tongue of the dwarves, but I'll no doubt be pickin' a bit up in the next couple weeks-HOO! HOO!"
Rellios stares bemused, both at the retreating shaman and Hru for moment, before gathering up his gear and following the others.
"I can't help but wonder if we have our own mad shaman in this bunch," he utters with a wolfish grin.
Once past the towers, the stairs begin. Cut into the rock of the mountain itself, they climb gently before you and continue far beyond the ability of any of the party to see. They climb at a steady rate and when the mountain climbs faster the stairs become a tunnel. When the mountain is not so steep, they reemerge beneath the bright sun of the Cinderlands.
At the base of the stairs is chiseled in Dwarvish:
"By hammer and pick we made a road,
for weary traveller with heavy load.
From mountaintop let dwarf-friends sing,
'We Walk in the Steps of the Dwarven King'."
Another informative stone notice reads:
'The Endless Stair'
Built between 3017 and 3044 A.R.
by the hands of all the clan.
Seven died to ease your journey.
I read the signs for my companions.
"By 'ammer and pick we were after makin' a road, fer the weary traveller with a 'eavy load. From the mountaintop let dwarf-friends be singin', 'We be Walkin' in the steps o' the Dwarven King'."
"'n the other be sayin' that this here is 'the Endless Stair,' 'n it was after bein' built between 3017 and 3044 by the 'ands of all the clan. Sadly seven noble dwarven brothers were after dyin' to ease our journey."
I pause a moment to pray for the souls of those dwarves that died in the course of their duties and then motion that we should continue on. As we journey, I look for a suitable place to make a camp. And the whole time I keep my crossbow ready.
The stairs continue for miles. The stone work retains its quality but in some places, moss, mold, nests, webs, and droppings litter the path. About every half mile, a room has been carved into the mountain allowing shelter. When the stairs are underground, the rooms are as well. When they are above ground, the room opens up into the night sky. Regardless, low benches wide enough to sit or sleep on have been carved into the walls of the room. Weary travellers can choose their place to rest.
You notice that every mile the figure of a dwarf has been carved into the stone wall with a name underneath. It is not until the second or third one that you realize these are both mile markers and grave markers of the seven who died building the stairs.
Rellios nods in acknowledgement of the information. He continues on silently, looking around for anything that may be amiss on the stairwell as they continue their climb.
Perception (1d20+6=14)
I think upon the meaning of the carvings for a while and then say, "I am after assumin' that these stairs go on fer a total o' seven miles. What do me companions be sayin' to stoppin' at the ferth mile n' makin' a camp? Then in the mornin' we'll be almost ter our goal."
"I'm for stopping as soon as possible, and EATING!" Hru puffs, but judging by the looks of the dwarves this isn't happening right away. Resigned Hru mumbles "...probably best to put some ground between us and that shaman or what ever he THOUGHT he was...grumble"
You enjoy a restful night.
Hru awakens early performs his devotions to Gorum-which seems to consist of a few stretches then leaping about and swinging the greatsword in great arcs, reversing stroke and generally hopping about like a madman. He then bows head, kneeling for about an hour with sword in front of him, chanting to Grorum in orc.
The last mile of the stairs is mostly tunnel with few opportunities to walk in the open. When you finally emerge from the tunnels, the light blasts your eyes. The sight that greets you when you can see again is an amazing one. You stand at the foot of a stone bridge that connects to a column of stone. This 'spire' is no natural formation and it is beyond the craft of any dwarven clan that you know of. It is a perfect cylinder of stone over 300 feet in height and close to 100' in diameter.
The bridge connects to the spire about 70' from the top and adjoins to a staircase that spirals up around it. Even from here, you can see a portucullis proving that there are rooms within the spire.
Looking below, you can see an enormous valley closed in by mountains on all sides, teaming with life, an mountain lake, a winding river, trees, and not a sign of humanoid inhabitation. There does not seem to be a way down to the valley from here.
Beyond this spire there are other spires but you cannot see from here if they connect to this one in any way.
I wake in the morning and spend some time in study, trying not to allow the orc blood's yelling to dampen my good spirits. After studying, I polish my hammer and bask for a moment in the beauty of its lines. That done, when all is ready, I lead on.
When we finally approach the spire, I am forced to grunt in appreciation of the skill that went into building such a thing.
"Its after showin' that when a dwarf puts 'is mind ter a thing, 'e can be doin' it right," I comment out loud.
I scan the structure for signs of life and then when everyone has admired the dwarven handiwork, I lead the way across the bridge.
The bridge is so exposed to the spire that you cannot be confident you will not be observed when you cross it but you do not see anyone observing you.
"Gorum!!" Hru is heard to mutter under his breath as he eyes the 200+ ft drop with some reservations. "Dwarves built that? They are fine stone workers indeed! But why?" he says casting his glance to the valley far below. He draws forth a javelin from back and moves onto the bridge reluctantly with the other Seekers-of-the-Throne.
As I contemplate the bridge, I suggest, "Let us be goin' in a line, 10 feet apart or so. Rall and Clareg at the front, Dareg at the back, wit' me in the middle."
I have my crossbow ready to fire.
As I contemplate the bridge, I suggest, "Let us be goin' in a line, 10 feet apart or so. Rall and Clareg at the front, Dareg at the back, wit' me in the middle."
I have my crossbow ready to fire.
"Who's Rall?" says Clareg.
"Think it's a nickname for the elf," answers Dareg.
...
"Can I 'ave a nickname?"
Crossing the bridge to the spire stairs is uneventful. The view of the valley from the bridge is astounding. From here, you can see the entire valley in all its beauty.
The bridge, the spire, and the mountain all seem to be of the same stone and you cannot see a seam between them. As far as any of the dwarves can tell, there is no seam.
The stairs are seven feet wide and spiral up and around the massive column of stone.
Climbing 30' you reach a lowered portcullis but not a particularly heavy one. The winch to raise it is on the outside and easily accessible. From outside the gate, you can see a small room jammed with harnesses and saddles like you saw on the bats two days earlier.
Rellios will check the portcullis, and the winch for any special measures or traps - this seems too obvious.
Perception check (1d20+6=16)
Rellios will check the portcullis, and the winch for any special measures or traps - this seems too obvious.
Perception check (1d20+6=16)
He finds none.
"Shall we be going in," I ask my companions.
"Clareg, Dareg, why don't ye be after workin' the winch. Ye other two be careful o' trouble."
"Shall we be going in," I ask my companions.
"Clareg, Dareg, why don't ye be after workin' the winch. Ye other two be careful o' trouble."
"Clareg, Dareg, do the 'eavy lifting. Clareg, Dareg, poll the barge while we fight the bats. Clareg, Dareg, you run ahead while I kill something. 'ave you mentioned the pay raise to 'im yet Dareg," complains Clareg.
"Yer supposed to lower yer voice when you complain about someone right beside yuh," reminds Dareg helpfully.
The winch turns too easily and Dareg stumbles back having expected more resistance. "Me brother's beard!" he shouts looking at the valley 200' below.
"Don't yuh be goin' o'er the edge, brother," Clareg laughs uneasily, "It be too far down and we won't be waitin' for yuh tuh climb back up!"
Hearing the dissatisfaction in Clareg's voice, I respond in dwarven as they turn the winch.
When the opening is ready for us, I speak to Rellios, "Do you want to scout out the room for us?"
With a simple nod and bemused glance implying, Like all that racket hasn't already alerted someone,
Rellios slips into the shadows of the room and scans it for potential guards or traps.
Stealth (1d20+6=14)
Perception (1d20+6=11)
With a simple nod and bemused glance implying, Like all that racket hasn't already alerted someone,
Rellios slips into the shadows of the room and scans it for potential guards or traps.
Stealth (1d20+6=14)
Perception (1d20+6=11)
Rellios finds nothing of great value here. Some of the scraps of metal are interesting in that they have dwarven writing on them but they tell you little except that goblins have scavenged rusted dwarven tools for their scythes and daggers.
This seems to be currently used for storage and creating harnesses for the batriders.
Any other exits besides the entrance we came in?
Any other exits besides the entrance we came in?
Not that you see.
"Maybe we should be searchin' fer other entrances and then movin' on."
Moving into the room after the elf, I examine it for any secret doors or hiding holes.
If there is nothing to be found, I have a look at the stairs winding up around the spire.
Sounds like I need to check for a secret door...so I'll do a more thorough scan of place. Perception check for secret door. (1d20+6=17)
The elf scans the floor, walls, and ceiling for a secret door and is surprised to see another pair of eyes stairing back at him. A peephole at the top of one of the walls suggests that there is another room, or at least a crawlspace, just up the stairs.
You don't see anyone to get to it.
A voice chants in goblin:
"Mr. Ogre, Mr. ogre,
Mr. big bad Ooogre,
here come elf & dwarf,
two tasty boogers"
The eyes disappear before you can reach for a weapon and the peephole goes dark.
Anyone in the room would have heard it but not those outside.
I laugh in anticipation of a good fight.
"There be goblins here aright. And if that voice is after bein' believed they have an ogre ter be tuckin' them in at night. Shall we be waitin' here to meet 'im or shall we be after goin' up 'n sayin' 'ello?"
I mutter the incantation and encase myself in arcane energies.
"I'm partial to takin' the fight to them, maybe we can limit the alarm they might raise."
Rellios looks around briefly - "Of course, I could hide out here for a sneak attack as well," he says with a grin.
Hru has spent the whole time with his back to the spire. Upon hearing the Dwarf he attempts to take his mind off the big plummet. "Gorums work to be done? At last! Did you say up?" with that he stows the javelin he's been carrying and draws the greatsword forth muttering "well, there's nothing for it..." as he does.