Yin gives a smile "I'd love to look into anything with 'chaos' in the title. You can rely on my help at the very least. As for Manny.. he'll either be all for joining, especially as at least two people seem to have trusted him to keep an eye on me, or will be unable to because he pledged his service to Orlan. He may feel the loyalty to stay at the side of him and the other dwarves. I suppose it all weighs on which he sees most important."
She looks thoughtful for a while before continuing "He'll probably want to stay though as watching me was a task given to him by Klyndak.. that and the.. lessons.." She gives a small sigh and a shake of her head.
Gameplanning For Everyone:
Yin, Manfred, Orlan:
Yin, Manfred, Orlan:
Spoiler:
For Everyone:
The joust ends far too soon for the merchants and travellers gathered around tent and wagon. Some applause. A few slaps on the back. Some money exchanges hands. People get back to loading wagons.
A man in a cloth apron with a belt lined with assorted tools runs out and straight up to Orlan. Bags lie heavy under his eyes and a big grin breaks across his face. "I finished these for you Orl ... Lord Orlan," he says proudly holding out a pair of gorgeous leather boots. "I treated them with grease for the waterproofing. They should hold out the river better than the last ones."
"And these are for your lady and your knight," he adds handing over two saddlebags.
The boots and the bags have been embossed with the hammer of Torag.
A man in a cloth apron with a belt lined with assorted tools runs out and straight up to Orlan. Bags lie heavy under his eyes and a big grin breaks across his face. "I finished these for you Orl ... Lord Orlan," he says proudly holding out a pair of gorgeous leather boots. "I treated them with grease for the waterproofing. They should hold out the river better than the last ones."....The boots...have been embossed with the hammer of Torag.
Orlan's eyes light up and he smiles with a rarely seen excitement. "By Torag!" he exclaims, "These be o' fine craftin' indeed! I expect I'll be walkin' straight across the river water instead o' under it this time. Yuh have me profound gratitude!" He claps the man on the shoulder and proceeds to try them on. "Fit fer a king!" he announces as he stomps around in them. "Or a cousin o' a king..." he adds with a wink to Yin and Manfred.
After they all thank the leatherworker, Orlan accompanies Manfred and Yin back towards the keep's bailey. "I been meanin' ta talk ta yuh two," he begins, "I've made the purchases Klyndak requested o' me. And his message ta Janderhoff is in the hands o' a dwarven courier. Soon, we'll have the rest o' our clan headed for the Spires. And I'd best be gettin' back ta make sure there's a king still waitin' fer 'em when they arrive."
"I don't know what the two o' yuh've been plannin'..." he continues, "Yuh're welcome ta come back with me. Or, given that yuh seem ta have found some o' yer own people and made new friends here at Kerrigan's, I'd be understandin' if'n yuh want ta stay on here fer awhile longer. But I need ta be gettin' back. There's more Spires ta reclaim. And I'll be needin' ta make Klyndak aware o' the trade opportunities here at the keep and beyond."
"Yuh two dwell on me words fer awhile," he tells them, "We can have dinner tonight...maybe with Lord Kerrigan himself?...and discuss yer plans after that. But fer me, I know I'll be takin' a mule train inta the mountains soon as I finish muh duties on Sunday with the local priest and their faithful followers."
Lord Kerrigan is hunkered over a table laden with food. Leaning forward, gesturing with a knife he speaks to Orlan, Manfred, Yin, and Falcon as trusted allies.
"I find myself with a Keep full of prisoners. Ex-prisoners to be exact. Most of the soldiers under my commission were released from prison under condition that they served the remainder of their sentence in the Korvosan army. The war ending was the worst thing that could happen for most of them."
"I trust many of these men but there is one mission, the mission I have in mind for Yin, and Manfred if he wishes, requires someone a bit distant from the soldiers in my command. Someone I can trust won't get drunk and babble away my secrets."
He leans in even closer:
"There are tunnels under this Keep. Lots of them. I believe this Keep stands on the remains of a buried city. I have spent years exploring them and have not found their end."
"Now, the Caves of Chaos are an extensive series of caves. Several adventurers have made attempts at defeating the beasties within but none have reached the end. I worry that the caves may eventually link up with the tunnels beneath the Keep. I need to know if they do. What I am proposing is a well-financed expedition into the Caves. I'll give you 1000gp for supplies, and a couple of trustworthy men to guard your camp. Camp out near the caves. Only come back to the Keep when you need supplies or rest. Tell no one what you do."
"I include you in this discussion, Lord Orlan, because if I need the tunnels closed, I think a small army of dwarves could do the work. If that happens, I will pay for the services of those in the spires. If, on the other hand, the rumours that these tunnels are the mouths to ancient mines are true, your kin might find themselves with more work than they know what to do with."
Kerrigan waves to his manservant who ushers in a dwarf and a half-elf. "These two adventurers arrived at the Keep last week looking for employment. I've had my eyes on them and believe they can be trusted."
"If you refuse this mission, I ask only that you keep my concerns secret. Innocent lives are involved. If you accept," he drops a bag of gold on the table, "You have my resources supporting your endeavours."
A tall, dark-skinned man steps forward when gestured by the Lord of the Keep. His complexion suggests he is from Mwangi, but his head is clean shaven and reveals ears slightly shorter than most elves. He stands a shade over six feet, with very long legs and arms giving him an imperious stature. He is wearing dark green leathers with a heavy brown coat and cloak, in one hand a wide-brimmed conical straw hat. He carries no visible weapons, but a delicate crystal wand is tied onto a loop on his belt. Most curious of all are his eyes - dark pools of green with black irises shaped like a cat's eyes. The eyes scan the room with a cool, smooth glance.
After an uncomfortable pause, the half-elf speaks, "Hello. I am called Janrith Baelriss. Lord Kerrigan informs me that an interesting situation has come up. You lack trustworthy men and women to undertake this investigation. I hereby offer my services, and those of my summons."
His speech is languid, and full of pregnant pauses. But despite this off-putting manner, he makes steady eye contact with each person in turn, making you feel as if he is talking to the whole room at once, but also that each person has his undivided attention.
Yin's eyes slowly and curiously travel over the new arrivals, her attention especially drawn to the wand at the tall attractive man's side before trailing up to his unique eyes. Smiling lightly she greets him with a nod of her head. "It's good to meet you Janrith, I'm Yin. That's a nice wand" She comments in an offhand but warm tone.
The unknown dwarf watches the tall one make his introduction, but says nothing.
His attire is functional, his hair long and blonde, his expression just short of a scowl, his beard carefully arranged in three braids. His gear has the look of being cared for and well used. A pair of axes hang on his belt on one side, a light pick on the other. Strapped over the pack on his back is a shield of a dull metal.
He's not as broad as the average dwarf, but he's about the same height. Orlan can see a number of oddities about his attire - things he would consider somewhat "undwarf-like," more like he would see on one of the other races. Which race, it's hard to say.
The dwarf stands there, solidly occupying his space for several beats after the man stopped speaking. His eyes scan the room, taking in information, not settling on any one thing. With a start, he realizes that they are waiting for him to speak and he steps forward.
He bows awkwardly to Orlan and again to the lady present. Standing back up, he meets the eyes of his fellow dwarf and says, "My name is Ovirid. My father was Thorvir Stoneson." Having said his piece, he returns to silently watching the room, waiting patiently.
Yin gives a small grin and a wave to the dwarf. "It's good to meet you too Ovirid" Shifting forward she looks over his hair and soon grins again, a bright white toothey and mischeivous grin. "I like your braids, can I redo them at some point?" She asks sweetly, whilst her short hair was practical it did mean she never got to play with it.
Yin gives a small grin and a wave to the dwarf. "It's good to meet you too Ovirid" Shifting forward she looks over his hair and soon grins again, a bright white toothey and mischeivous grin. "I like your braids, can I redo them at some point?" She asks sweetly, whilst her short hair was practical it did mean she never got to play with it.
A look of surprise is evident as he looks down and inspects one of the careful braids. Finally, he looks back up, "Ma'am?"
When her grin finally registers on his nervous brain, he relaxes and chuckles deeply. "Now tha's a fine way to be greetin' a dwarf, miss. If'n I knew yer name, I'd think about it." He's visibly more relaxed than when he entered the room.
"Well, now that introductions are done ... Let us talk of this again once we know each other better ..."
Turning his attention to Manfred, Kerrigan says "That 'joust' this morning was quite a sight. Do you think the art of jousting would be a less deadly way for my men to settle their differences? I mean, less deadly than pulling daggers on each other?"
"I mean, less deadly than pulling daggers on each other?"
"Or, less deadly than sitting down reasonably and discussing their disagreement?"
"I mean, less deadly than pulling daggers on each other?""Or, less deadly than sitting down reasonably and discussing their disagreement?"
"I said 'men'," replies Lord Kerrigan.
Ignoring his son, Kerrigan continues, "How about militarily Manfred, I've never commanded lancers. Would they be of any use out here ... The only dangers seem to be from occassional bandits or bands of goblins ... or naked people painted like skeletons leaping against our walls."
"I mean, less deadly than pulling daggers on each other?""Or, less deadly than sitting down reasonably and discussing their disagreement?""I said 'men'," replies Lord Kerrigan.
Ignoring his son, Kerrigan continues, "How about militarily Manfred, I've never commanded lancers. Would they be of any use out here ... The only dangers seem to be from occassional bandits or bands of goblins ... or naked people painted like skeletons leaping against our walls."
"Or the danger of the men killing each other instead of reasonably discussing their issues?"
Lost in thought, considering going back with Lord Orlan or staying with Yin, Sir Manfred abrubply returned his attention to the present as Lord Kerrigan asked his question;
"That 'joust' this morning was quite a sight. Do you think the art of jousting would be a less deadly way for my men to settle their differences? I mean, less deadly than pulling daggers on each other?"
Sir Manfred replied; "Milord, your sense of nobility does you credit. It would be an ideal state of affairs indeed if the ordinary men-at-arms could experience the chivalric sense of honor and pageantry that a jousting tournament can bring. However, the sad fact is that the equipment, horses and training are far too expensive for the average soldier to support. And yet... perhaps some kind of formal nonleathal duelling under controlled circumstances could be arranged instead... blunted weapons... impartial judges..."
Kerrigan continues, "How about militarily Manfred, I've never commanded lancers. Would they be of any use out here ... The only dangers seem to be from occassional bandits or bands of goblins ... or naked people painted like skeletons leaping against our walls."
Sir Manfred replies: "Milord, as much as I love the power and glory of the charge of heavy cavalry, given your terrain you would probably be better served with a company or two of light lancers or even horse archers, for speed of deployment, and Rangers, for scouting. I fear I am not as aquainted with your particular needs as I would need to be to make good decisions about force needs."
"Don't call me Ma'am, I'm Yin!" The wizard replies brightly to the dwarf's words before looking over at the discussion between Kerrigan, Manny & Falcon with a tiny shake of her head. "Sorry to disagree with you Lord Kerrigan but I have to agree with Falcon, it takes more of a man to try to talk first. By all means back the talking up by as much power as you want, the more the better really.. but even the clan of the sun talk about things on occasion, if they didn't both their peoples and ours would all be gone by now as we'll all fight to the bitter end."
With a wry smile she looks at Manfred "Safe dueling is a cute idea, but really, do you see an angry tribesman, someone from a less.. settled.. area of the world, going for it?"
With his thoughts centered more upon his kin, Orlan barely registers the conversations about the room. He only stoically nods at the newly-arrived dwarf and his unusual appearance. More disturbing seems the half-breed elfling to his eyes, though Orlan says nothing to him in reply. These folk clearly belong to Lord Kerrigan, he thinks...or at least, they responded to the man's invitation. An invitation for what? Exploration of a few deadly caves? And for what purpose? It would seem Lord Kerrigan had his own problems and interests. How far should the Hammerfoe clan go to help him?
At that point, Orlan pushes away from the table and stands. "If'n yuh'll pardon my leave," he says to Kerrigan, "I'll be dwellin' upon the possibilities o' helpin' yuh and yer men with sealin' these caves, if'n that be yer wish. But I'll have ta consult with King Klyndak for any official engagement. Yin and Manfred here can be makin' their own decisions 'bout helpin' yuh clear 'em, though. As fer me, I'll make no such commitment at this time. After meetin' with the temple priests tomorrow, I'll be returnin' ta the Spires and me cousin. I thank yuh again fer yer gracious hospitality."
Orlan bows stiffly and then retreats to his room to start packing for the trip home...
Janrith noticeably glances between the attractive Shoanti woman and the dwarf during their conversation. He steps forward slightly, as if to place himself between them.
"Lady...Yin, was it? I sense the arcane arts surround you. Perhaps we could discuss the finer points of spellcraft in our time together?" the half-elf purrs. His eyes shift back to the dwarf and back. "In my experience, dwarves often have little practical knowledge of such things."
Janrith seats himself, even if it is inappropriate, quietly and smoothly. In a smooth voice, "This whole business with fighting and talking. Personally, I find it rather distasteful. So much better to have magic solve your problems for you. With all due respect, Lord Kerrigan, men are expensive and loyalty is not guaranteed. I think you will find that creatures compelled by magic are much more efficient."
At that point, Orlan pushes away from the table and stands. "If'n yuh'll pardon my leave," he says to Kerrigan, "I'll be dwellin' upon the possibilities o' helpin' yuh and yer men with sealin' these caves, if'n that be yer wish. But I'll have ta consult with King Klyndak for any official engagement. Yin and Manfred here can be makin' their own decisions 'bout helpin' yuh clear 'em, though. As fer me, I'll make no such commitment at this time. After meetin' with the temple priests tomorrow, I'll be returnin' ta the Spires and me cousin. I thank yuh again fer yer gracious hospitality."
Orlan bows stiffly and then retreats to his room to start packing for the trip home...
Ovirid moves quickly for the first time when he realizes the other dwarf is departing, moving up a little too close for conversational distance, then backing up a step. "Brother of stone, would I be able to come to yer 'Spires' and meet yer King Klyndak?" He pauses before continuing, "I've given me word to do this mission, but I would follow ya ta the Spires if ya thought it acceptable."
"Don't call me Ma'am, I'm Yin!" The wizard replies brightly to the dwarf's words.
A smile is just visible below the beard and his eyes twinkle as he says, "Indeed ya are, m... Yin."
After his attempt to speak to Orlan and being cut off from view by the half-elf, he steps forward to the side of the table to listen to the conversation better. He stands listening to the discourse, nodding slightly as each person makes their point, but no offering any insight of his own. He doesn't appear to be put out by the half-elf's behavior in the least.
"It's Yin" the Shoanti woman replies plainly with a trace of an amused smile "Just Yin, despite peoples insistances of calling me so I really am not a Lady!" She adds with a grin. Resting her elbows against the table and cradling her chin in her hands she looks into the half-elf's eyes. "But yes, I'd love an opportunity to discuss spellcraft with you. Although if you are a fan of keeping things on side using magic you may be disappointed in my knowledge of magics. Enchantment is one of the schools that never sat well with me, it just didn't.. 'click'" She explains with the faintest of shrugs.
"Or the danger of the men killing each other instead of reasonably discussing their issues?"
Sir Manfred replied; "I fear I have seen less than I would like of reasonable discussion between peoples. Language barriers, greed, sinful pride, murderous rage, even just plain stupidity is far more common than anyone of good faith would like. It is the reason that men, and even a few women, pick up the sword and shield and stand against such things."
"Safe dueling is a cute idea, but really, do you see an angry tribesman, someone from a less.. settled.. area of the world, going for it?"
Sir Manfred replied; “Perhaps not. Yet I would still hold out hope that even filthy savage barbarians want more than battle. Maybe just a chance to show off before pretty girls.” He looks significantly at Yin. “I remember that that was a large factor in my decision to go for a Knighthood.” He turns to Sir Falcon. “What of yourself Sir Falcon? What made you decide to pick up sword and shield?”
Sir Manfred replied; “Perhaps not. Yet I would still hold out hope that even filthy savage barbarians want more than battle. Maybe just a chance to show off before pretty girls.” He looks significantly at Yin. “I remember that that was a large factor in my decision to go for a Knighthood.” He turns to Sir Falcon. “What of yourself Sir Falcon? What made you decide to pick up sword and shield?”
Falcon Warchild looks uncomfortable. He looks uncomfortably at the men looking at Yin. He looks uncomfortable at his father's grin. He looks uncomfortable at Manfred's question.
"I have not and will not pick up the sword or shield. I have vowed to use my fists and staff. Men can act in anger or foolishness. Swords result in very fatal consequences," he looks at his adoptive father as he says this.
His father, Lord Kerrigan, for the first time seems ill-at-ease. "Son ...," he begins cautiously, and then seems to break off from what he was going to say.
He continues more happily "Why don't you share with them your translation? ... Falcon has been translating the Shoanti epic songs into Chelaxian. He feels much will be improved if the Korvosans realize the Shoanti have a rich culture."
Falcon looks uncomfortable at first but then looks at Yin and becomes resolute.
"The ballads are quite long. This is the 28th song of the Dragon-Clads. The Dragon-Clads were Shoanti warriors drawn from each tribe for the good of all the tribes. They had to slay a dragon to earn their title. Please eat while I sing."
With that, Falcon stands under the torch and sings:
As was their way, to protect the land,
each tribe called upon their best
of heart and head and soul and hand
and against them set the ancient test.
These young warriors an evil dragon sought
and found Rarthirrin -- a wicked black.
The nine as one the dragon fought
and brought the hide of dragon back.
Through this test did each tribe's elders find
that the nine were worthy of the name
and a 'Black Dragon-clad' they did bind
but one that would achieve most tragic fame.
Before the elders and assembled throng,
the youths were bound by ancient pact --
separately weak but together strong
for each had strengths the others lacked.
Then, as the ancient son of Perxop taught,
the dragonskinners used knife and spell
and from the dragon's hide armour wrought
within which magic would be made to dwell.
From their kill were crafted for each youth
shield or armour of dragon's hide
and around their necks thongs of dragontooth
were with reverent ceremony tied.
Now the Dragon-clad, these honoured few,
rode out in search of other beasts
and both giants and hellish monsters slew
and in every village were given feasts.
Honoured heroes of both poem and song
eight suns the Black Dragon-Clad did ride
and although they proved both brave and strong
in their final battle two fell and died.
In the eighth summer of their dynasty
the grasslands were swept by vicious fire
and from a hill their scout could see
three villages, each a flaming pyre.
And above the plains in the smoky sky
a mighty dragon danced an evil flight
and as women and children fell and cried
the dragon set nine more homes alight.
Even the greatest Dragon-clads of lore
when faced with mighty reds felt fear
so the Black Dragon-clad prepared for war
without boasting or excited cheer.
They tracked the silhouette in the sky
as it winged it's way over the burning grass
and followed even as the land grew dry
until the wyrm landed in a mountain pass.
Now waiting was the hardest part
for their ears rang with remembered screams
and wrath consumed their youthful hearts
as they saw the dragon in their dreams.
But they waited for two days and one more night
to be sure the dragon in his lair rested
then silently at dawn's first light
crept with care to where it nested.
To reach its cave they scaled a wall
of dry and crumbling dark red clay
silent even when watching two friends fall
so soulless had they grown this day.
Into the lair, the remaining seven crept
and down winding tunnels by torch light
until they reached the place where the dragon slept
then stumbled back at the frightful sight.
They had thought it had been a giant red
as the villages had all been set aflame
but the dragon that had left so many dead
was an ancient brass gone quite insane.
Now, in ancient times was a promise made
between the good dragons and the Dragon-Clad
that the Shoanti would not raise axe or blade
when one of metallic hue went mad.
The good dragons would keep watch on their own
and should one of theirs turn to evil ways
the metallic dragons and they alone
would that traitorous dragon slay.
Of the nine chosen, seven stood
for two had on the rocks been broken.
And now it seemed the seven would
fight -- for the great wyrm had awoken.
Against tooth and claw and battering wings
most men would only briefly stand
but a tortured heart sometimes brings
a rage like that which filled this angry band.
They fought as one and soon did fell
the treacherous and evil brass.
They left its hide behind and did not tell
the elders what happened in the pass.
But dragon's know the names of all their kin
and the crime did not go undetected.
The good dragons now rose to threaten
the lands that the promise had long protected.
So Ends the Time of the Last Dragon-Clad
So Begins the Time of the Dragon's Wrath
Yin tenses visibly as Manfred uses the term 'filthy savage barbarians', unable to stop herself wondering if this would be the view he'd hold if he ever met her people. Feeling a little annoyed she gladly welcomes the distraction of Falcon's translation. A smile comes to her lips as she listens, unable to touch her food as she lets herself get lost in the translation of one of the many stories her parents used to tell her as a child.
As he finishes a grin comes to her face "You have translated it perfectly Falcon, and you tell it so well! Thank you"
With the invitation to sit and eat, Ovirid finally makes an effort to find a seat. By all appearances, he's carrying everything he owns, so he looks around the room for a place to set his things down. He settles on resting his pack and shield against his leg under the table.
He listens closely to the Shoanti tale, nodding as he catches the beat of the tune. When Falcon has taken his seat, the dwarf says (around a mouthful of food), "A fine tale. Any bard would be proud to tell it."
"I once considered attending a Bardic College, my parents certainly encouraged the notion. Something about it being the family tradition. Of course, I developed my own talents. Never discovered which parent those were from."
Sir Manfred, having leaned forward to listen to Falcon's recital, leaned back now and said; "A magnificent saga of heroes Sir Falcon! This has a historical ring to it. Is there more to the story?"
Sir Manfred, having leaned forward to listen to Falcon's recital, leaned back now and said; "A magnificent saga of heroes Sir Falcon! This has a historical ring to it. Is there more to the story?"
"Well, ... the Shoanti are an oral people. There 'history' continually changes to reflect the present. It is quite likely that the two members of the nine dragonclad who died only did so after the tribes they were from died about 1000 years after the ballad was first composed ...," says Falcon excitedly.
"Falcon," interrupts Lord Kerrigan, "That's more than what he wants to know. So, does my offer sound fair? A mission. 1000 gold to prepare. And I am kept informed of all you find?"
"Falcon," interrupts Lord Kerrigan, "That's more than what he wants to know. So, does my offer sound fair? A mission. 1000 gold to prepare. And I am kept informed of all you find?"
"I've given my word, and I'll go. But other than this one , who else is on the team?"
Yin makes a small disappointed sound as Falcon is cut off by his father but soon smiles again at Kerrigan's words. "It sounds good to me.. I needed some more alchemist's fire" She muses with a playful grin.
Sir Manfred replies slowly. "While my first loyalty is to Lord Orlan, both he and I are agreed that I have a duty to carry out the judgement of King Klyndak to watch over and guard Yintarah Fireweaver; lest she fall to the dark side."
He solemly looks over to where Yin is sitting. Suddenly he breaks a smile.
"And I don't think I could bear it if something happened that I could have prevented. "
A tall, dark-haired man dressed in chain shirt enters the room. "Lord Kerrigan, I'm sorry I'm late. I hope it's not too late to join the party that goes to the Caves of Chaos."
Kornelius turns to Yintarah.
"Yin, I hear you're in charge.
May I join?"
Yin can't help but roll her eyes a little at the mention of 'the dark side', starting to hate the phrase. Kornelius' arrival is a welcome distraction and she quickly gives the darkhaired man a dazzling grin. "The more the merrier!" She proclaims happily.
Ovirid nods to the newcomer, waves him toward the table with a slight hand gesture, and turns back to listening to the others.
Ovirid helps himself to a few items of food -- either he's already eaten and is just avoiding offending the host, or he's got a very dainty appetite for a dwarf.
Several of Kerrigan's servants bring new trays of food to replace those half-finished. The castellan of the keep casually oversees the feast.
"Harpur," says Kerrigan to the castellan, "The young lady will give you a list of things she needs. See that they are brought here as soon as possible."
The castellan bows slightly to Yin. "Of course, Lord Kerrigan."
Kerrigan looks at the five adventurers and smiles: "I think this will work out well. Brains, brawn, and lots of fire in case neither is enough."
"Separately weak but together strong for each had strengths the others lacked," smiles Falcon.
A few necessities (multiples of each) that Janrith eagerly whispers to Yin:
The dwarf scowls a bit as he thinks, "Hrmph. Food, water, light, shelter. We'll be needin' rations and water fer 'owever many days we plan ta be gone. 'ow many are we? Six? I 'ave me own rations fer a few days, but it won't be 'urtin' to have extra. Six mouths, 2 weeks, 'at would be 'bout 85 days o' rations. We might find water out there, but we might not."
He turns to their host, "Sir Kerrigan, would you be knowin' if there be a source o' water near the caves? And 'ow far are they? Would we be reachin' them within a day?"
Turning back to the lovely mage, he continues, "If we can make entrance ta the caves, we might be able ta camp within, but it might be good ta have four tents available, anyway. With this much material, it would be good ta have some mules ta carry it.
"O' course, we'll be fer needin' to make sure that there's enough light fer everyone ta see, or we might as well not even start. I've seen mages that could make light in a lantern -- worked as well as lighting oil in the lamp, to my way o' thinkin', so a 'igh quality lantern or two would be enough, if'n one of you can cast such a spell in them. O' course, Manfred might want ta keep some source of light handy in case 'e's separated from the rest o' us, but I intend ta see that's not fer happenin'.
"Then, talkin' about the caves themselves. I don't know what the caves hold fer us. It would be good ta 'ave rope and climbin' gear in case we 'ave to go vertical. Unless one o' you mages 'as a solution for such obstacles, o' course. As fer what else we need, it depends on what we do when we're there, an that depends on what talents we bring ta the mission, right?
"I'm fer understandin' that Jan-boy 'ere 'as the knack for bringing creatures to 'elp him out. It's been suggested that you, young lady, 'ave a talent for getting yer foes fired up." He grins, "Actually, I saw what you did ta that son of an orc you chased through the courtyard. Well done - both the task and the foe." He chuckles at his own joke for a moment.
"As for Sir Manfred, I don't know what yer methods be, but I can guess from yer gear and conversation. Meself, I'm one fer knowin' what our foe plans ta surprise us with by scoutin' 'im out and 'avin' some surprises fer him in return -- caltrops, flasks o' acid 'n fire, tanglefoot bags -- all are good choices ta my thinkin'. Extra ropes and weapons, nets, such as that, can all be used fer making somethin' ta slow down or stop an enemy. But they aren't free and take up space, so we 'ave ta keep that in mind, too.
"If'n yer like most mages I've worked with in the past, yer better spells won't last long if that's all you 'ave to use. Do either of you 'ave any skill with a light crossbow? I'd not be fer wanting you in the front line, but if you can make the foe think twice about charging Sir Manfred 'n meself, I think we should be makin' sure you have plenty of ammo. Fer meself, I could use some extra cases of light crossbow bolts, too. 'n if'n we all use 'at type o' ammo, it would be simpler to distribute if'n we run short.
"Lastly, do any o' you have some ability ta provide healin'? I do not, and I'll not be fer believin' that we're goin' inta an infested network o' caves 'n comin' out without a scratch. It'd be a good thing if we made sure we 'ad some blessin' in a bottle on 'and if'n no one can call down their god's favor fer the rest o' us."
"Yin, those are me thoughts on the matter, take 'em or leave 'em. Regardless o' 'ow you spend the coin, you 'ave my word that I'll be fer doin' my level best to make sure 'at all that walk into those caves aside o' me will come out alive. 'at's all I can promise."
Kerrigan looks stunned for a moment and then answers: "The caves are not far from here ... within an hour hiking in the hills north of the keep, which is precisely why I am concerned that their tunnels may lead back here. Not much in the way of water up there, although I suspect if you go deep enough you will find some."
He grins inexplicably.
"Well, my good dwarf, I am no slouch with a weapon, ranged or not. I do have these after all." He flashes a hand; razor sharp claws, a deep onyx, protrude from his fingers. "I also have this and this." He points to a dagger and a crossbow at his side and back respectively.
"As for healing, my *ahem* lineage permits me to dabble in many magical endeavours. This small piece of crystal and my talent you might find more valuable than a stalwart cleric, blessed as they may be."
Sir Manfred replies; "I am ready now. But why would you want to carry crossbows into the confines of an underground environment?"