Vifty! Zhere's your Vifty!. Now you let him go.
Radavel
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Korgidd removes the dwarf from his hostage with one blow. Unfortunately, his follow up attack did not connect and now the other dwarf, with blood running down his often-broken nose, is angry. "Ye shouldna done that."
For Kol
"Kinslayer I am not but now I have cause."
The dwarf turns to the crowd. "Ye seen what he did! I challenge him to the circle!"
The crowd responds, "Turok! Turok! Turok!"
For the others except Korgidd
Turok now looks at Korgidd, "Ye ready to lay down yer life in the circle. 'Ware refusing this challenge shall mean the forfeiture of all yer worldly possessions. Including yer spot in Grungni's halls."
Korgidd if you vants to scrap. I vill vatch your back.
As Vulpert watches the crowd gather, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach evolves into a gnashing maelstrom of rollicking bile. He knows full well from experience that any grudge-mongering dwarf worth his salt, once the challenge has been issued, cannot back down, and the skinny human knew the moment that Korgidd met Turok's glare that things wouldn't end well.
He walks to within ten paces of Korgidd, close enough so that he can show a scant measure of solidarity with the dwarf, but not so close that his burly adversary can see it as a threat.
"A pit fighter, eh?" he bemusedly mutters for Korgidd and Kol to hear.
"Then this wretch here, mightn't be his ringer to goad you then?" he points at the wretch wallowing in the mud. Vulpert sighs deeply.
As if noticing something for the first time, he looks pointedly from Kol to his bag of cutlery and back again, one eyebrow arched sarcastically.
"Kol. You dropped your silverware."
Perception test=87, Failed. Needed 36 or lower.
He will also ask some folk in the assembled throng what they know of the dwarf pit fighter and this particular debt owed to him.
Seeing the man cravenly crawling his way through the crowd, Vulpert takes a few paces to intercept him, planting a muddy boot in his path, and asks,
"Well then, where are you off to in such a hurry, friend?"
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At this point, three Lawgivers (as the magistrates are called) arrive on the scene. They are all in armor and armed with pistols and hammers.
The leader of the Lawgivers turns to Turok.
"What's the problem here, hmmm?"
"Not another duel of honor, Turok?"
"Still haven't recovered what I lost on yer last fight."
Turok replies:
"Ye best bet on me then, yer lordship."
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Seeing the man cravenly crawling his way through the crowd, Vulpert takes a few paces to intercept him, planting a muddy boot in his path, and asks,
"Well then, where are you off to in such a hurry, friend?"
"Mercy, mercy, I am but a humble peace-loving sinner who has lost his way. Sigmar, preserve me but I have to get away. Turok will be looking for mer after he is through with your friend."
Released, the human immediately crawls aways through the crowd.
Turok sees Kol taking a stand near Korgidd. "The circle is a field of honor. One on one duels only. But ye can take me on after I crush yer friend."
I vill not break zhe honor circle. But you know zhis. You have veak blood in your veins. A coward who preys on zhe veak. If Korgidd does not vinish you, zhen I vill. I do not break zhe circle in respect for him. Zhere is no honor in you.
It vill not be zhe first time I spent a night in jail. Eh Vulpert?
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"Ey, manling what is your participation in this?" asks the leader of the Lawgivers of Kol. "Ye and Turok are duelling, no?"
Turok corrects the Lawgiver, "Not 'im. 'Im." Turok points at Korgidd.
"Oh I see. Interesting."
For Kol
For Korgidd
"Have no concern for my beard, Turok," Korgidd spits the name. "I do not relish the idea of slaying another dwarf, but you seem intent upon it and a soldier of Barak Varr will not shirk from your challenge. I will meet you with hammer and shield in the circle, on the morrow after I have seen my wards to the Hold, if that is how you wish it."
At that, Korgidd nods in respect to the Lawbringers and makes to lead the manlings with him to the relative safety and order of Skalf's Hold.
He turns briefly to regard the pitfighter, "I will see you tomorow and then this will be settled."
"Ey, manling what is your participation in this?" asks the leader of the Lawgivers of Kol. "Ye and Turok are duelling, no?"
Turok corrects the Lawgiver, "Not 'im. 'Im." Turok points at Korgidd.
Vell zhat Dwarf pointing to Turok. Bursts out of zhe bar vith a knife at zhe humans throat. Korgidd tried to deal vith zhis Turok to release zhe human. Zhis Turok demanded Vifty Crown vor zhe humans life. Korgidd smacked zhe Dwarf and zhe human scampered avay. Now zhis Turok, Vants to shed Korgidds blood, and take his pozzezzions. I am Korgidds vriend. Zo, I zay I vill vatch his back zo a vair fight vill happen. If Korgidd valls; vhich he von't. I vill challenge zhis dog zo Korgidds pozzezzions vill go back to his vamily. Zhan zhis dishonorable vretch.
Trying to remain just a face in the crowd when the Lawgiver's arrive, Vulpert looks down his pock-marked nose at the grovelling man before his boots.
"I should like to know why you owe the pit-fighter fifty crowns, friend. Your little mummers farce just now has put quite a crimp in my...errr... I should say our plans. I believe the least a fellow such as yourself should be able to do is provide your erstwhile saviors a bit of an explanation, eh?"
Vulpert, seeing the nigh-oblivious Kol squinting into the crowd looking for him, waves back with a half-smile, pointing to the man crawling before him. Frowning, Vulpert then looks around for Rikarus. Spotting him concealed even deeper than he in the crowd, he grimaces slightly, and thinks,
'Best to watch that ferryman, his stomach for a scrap seems even less than mine. Wouldn't serve well if he skipped the fray before me when things come to blows.'
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Vell zhat Dwarf pointing to Turok. Bursts out of zhe bar vith a knife at zhe humans throat. Korgidd tried to deal vith zhis Turok to release zhe human. Zhis Turok demanded Vifty Crown vor zhe humans life. Korgidd smacked zhe Dwarf and zhe human scampered avay. Now zhis Turok, Vants to shed Korgidds blood, and take his pozzezzions. I am Korgidds vriend. Zo, I zay I vill vatch his back zo a vair fight vill happen. If Korgidd valls; vhich he von't. I vill challenge zhis dog zo Korgidds pozzezzions vill go back to his vamily. Zhan zhis dishonorable vretch.
"So ye say, manling. But the only who has committed violence thus far is yer friend over there." The Lawgiver points at Korgidd. "Ye have witnesses to back up yer claims?"
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Trying to remain just a face in the crowd when the Lawgiver's arrive, Vulpert looks down his pock-marked nose at the grovelling man before his boots.
"I should like to know why you owe the pit-fighter fifty crowns, friend. Your little mummers farce just now has put quite a crimp in my...errr... I should say our plans. I believe the least a fellow such as yourself should be able to do is provide your erstwhile saviors a bit of an explanation, eh?"
Vulpert, seeing the nigh-oblivious Kol squinting into the crowd looking for him, waves back with a half-smile, pointing to the man crawling before him. Frowning, Vulpert then looks around for Rikarus. Spotting him concealed even deeper than he in the crowd, he grimaces slightly, and thinks,
'Best to watch that ferryman, his stomach for a scrap seems even less than mine. Wouldn't serve well if he skipped the fray before me when things come to blows.'
"Please master believe me. I am innocent. They forced me to agree to the bet. But please don't tell the Lawgivers. They'll kill."
Zhen who's blood is on Turok's knife? It didn't get zhere by itself. Other zhan zhat you have my vord.
Korgidd, turns again to the pit fighter, and the crowd in general, "Know that I am Korgidd Darragdem, Soldier of Barak Varr, Son of Rourke of the Nines, Grandson of the Longbeard Korgidd Orcslayer, descendent of the Master Runesmiths of Clan Darragdem. My word is as solid as my shield and as true as my hammer. I will be here tomorrow, I will fight you, Turok Mutterbeard, in the circle and Grimnir help any that try to prevent it."
To the dwarfen Lawgivers, he says "I may have struck him first, but on my oath and ancestry, as I have just sworn, it was at his insistance. His knife bears the blood, albiet weakly, of the manling that he intended to murder over a bet. I struck to save a life, even one so base as a debtor, because I know of no dwarf holds that would allow such a thing. I offered to help him escort the manling to the local magistrate for a proper reckoning of his transgressions, but was rebuked. My honor would have been sullied had I allowed him to commit murder, whilst I had the means," at this he raises his hammer, "to prevent it."
Rikarus makes his way back through the crowd
"Oh my that crowd pushed me back away from the conflict."
Seeing Rikarus approach again, Vulpert eyes him sarcastically and answers,
"Yes, quite the swirling undertow of humanity, I'm surprised you didn't get pushed to the base of the mountains."
Looking at the wretch before him, and overhearing Korgidd's oath, the bonepicker lifts the man bodily to his feet, hissing in his ear,
"First, tell me your name. Following that, we will be suitably introduced to one another. You can then tell me, as your friend, benefactor, and one of your rescuers who it was that forced you to agree to this wager. If you answer with haste, and truly, I promise, dear friend, that your secret will be safe with me."
Vulpert, is lying, of course.
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Zhen who's blood is on Turok's knife? It didn't get zhere by itself. Other zhan zhat you have my vord.
"Blood ye say? Turko, present yer blade for examination."
Turko presents his weapon, "Here, yer lordship. Nicked me self while shaving." Turko then winks at the other dwarf.
"I see. Well without a victim there seems to be no crime."
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Korgidd, turns again to the pit fighter, and the crowd in general, "Know that I am Korgidd Darragdem, Soldier of Barak Varr, Son of Rourke of the Nines, Grandson of the Longbeard Korgidd Orcslayer, descendent of the Master Runesmiths of Clan Darragdem. My word is as solid as my shield and as true as my hammer. I will be here tomorrow, I will fight you, Turok Mutterbeard, in the circle and Grimnir help any that try to prevent it."
To the dwarfen Lawgivers, he says "I may have struck him first, but on my oath and ancestry, as I have just sworn, it was at his insistance. His knife bears the blood, albiet weakly, of the manling that he intended to murder over a bet. I struck to save a life, even one so base as a debtor, because I know of no dwarf holds that would allow such a thing. I offered to help him escort the manling to the local magistrate for a proper reckoning of his transgressions, but was rebuked. My honor would have been sullied had I allowed him to commit murder, whilst I had the means," at this he raises his hammer, "to prevent it."
The dwarfen magistrates are impressed with Korgidd's recitation of his ancestry. "Yer illustrious sire is known to us."
"Turko, if right of grievance is what ye claim against 'im, I'm sure that he shall appear at the appointed time, which is at...."
"Tomorrow, yer lordship at the circle, no weapons but bare hands. Rules are simple: two enter, one leave."
"Turko, I am sure to bet on the winner."
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Seeing Rikarus approach again, Vulpert eyes him sarcastically and answers,
"Yes, quite the swirling undertow of humanity, I'm surprised you didn't get pushed to the base of the mountains."
Looking at the wretch before him, and overhearing Korgidd's oath, the bonepicker lifts the man bodily to his feet, hissing in his ear,
"First, tell me your name. Following that, we will be suitably introduced to one another. You can then tell me, as your friend, benefactor, and one of your rescuers who it was that forced you to agree to this wager. If you answer with haste, and truly, I promise, dear friend, that your secret will be safe with me."
Vulpert, is lying, of course.
"Grosser, sir. Turko forced me to sign. But you cannot ask me to be the witness he has allies in Deadgate. And they will find and kill me."
The man is genuinely afraid.
It almost pains Vulpert to believe the man was genuinely innocent, but his nose for truth is usually spot on. Lifting the man to his feet, he steps aside and gestures toward the throng.
"Off with you then. If you in fact have the coin that the pit-fighter spoke of, be sure to bet it upon the crazed dwarf that just saved your miserable life for the sake of his brain-addled honor. I will expect my cut when you collect your winnings!"
I sure hope our guide knows what he is doing...
"Blood ye say? Turko, present yer blade for examination."
Turko presents his weapon, "Here, yer lordship. Nicked me self while shaving." Turko then winks at the other dwarf.
"I see. Well without a victim there seems to be no crime."
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The details of the duel between Korgidd and Turko having been arranged, the party is allowed to leave for the Hold by the Lawgivers, who reminds Korgidd that the honor of his clan is the one at stake should he fail to appear.
You pass the gates of the Hold. Upon entering how different the Hold is from the chaotic setup of Deadgate. The streets are straight and corners are at right angles. This should make it very easy for you to locate whatever it is you are looking for.
You have any vriends here Korgidd? I zon't like zhe spot you are in. Ve vas marked vhen ve got here. Iz might not be za bad idea to find another Lawgiver. Try and spot an honest one. Have him amend zhe match to include no armour or clothes. Vust loincloths. It vill make it hard vor him to hide veapons zhen. Once amended zhen ve buy you some animal lard, or cooking oil.
"He's a dwarf, this is now about honor, even if Korgidd got baited intot he situation, now it's the honor of his entire clan, and he would rather die than dishonor his clan. Me, I'm a human, I'm not so noble."
"The ferryman is right. I am only a representative of my clan. I will not dishonor them."
Korgidd puts his focus on navigating the streets of the Hold and finding a good tavern for the night.
Vulpert tries to drive the nauseating image of two dwarves wrestling near-naked while covered in greasy animal lard from his mind. As the streets wind and turn, he tries to gauge Korgidd's mood. Unable to decide if the dwarf's anger over his honor being called into question has subsided, he decides to chance a question anyway.
"I wouldn't dare call into question your honor or courage, Korgidd, but answer me truly, will the pit-fighter hold advantage over you if this bout is without weapons or armor?"
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After wandering the Hold, you find a suitable inn called Gorlaz's Touch, an out of the way inn near the Hold's walls.
You enter the common room and find it occupied mostly by dwarfs.
The innkeeper, a fat dwarf with a long golden chain around his neck, meets you, "Greetings, will you be requiring rooms for the night?"
For Korgidd
Vulpert's question brings Korgidd's thoughts back to the present.
"Tis true, that I am trained not for wrestling with other dwarfs, but for fighting the greenskins and other horrors of the deep tunnels. I have spent most of my years swinging hammer or axe, not fists. But it is no matter. My honor is as sound as the ringing of smithy hammers on gromril. That Turko's honor is the flat of flawed ore."
Upon reaching the inn, Korgidd ushers his charges inside and answers the inn keeper. "Aye. Four rooms and meals."
Vulpert merely nods at Korgidd's answer, expecting as much. There was something to be said for the predictability of the dwarf mindset. Honor trumped all, and if you knew this, a dwarf more than likely could never surprise you.
As he enters the inn, briefly wondering what a 'Gorlaz' is, and whether or not it's touch would be something he would like to experience, Vulpert admires the innkeeper's golden chain. One other thing to be said about dwarfs, they loved their shiny trinkets. It seemed Korgidd had taken an interest in the gaudy thing as well. If he was careful, correction, very careful Vulpert felt he would leave Dragon Crag far wealthier than when he entered. The trick was avoiding the scrutiny of the Lawgivers.
In other circumstances, Vulpert would have endeavored to be mindful of dwarf custom and etiquette, but the days events had soured and exhausted him. Looking at the dwarf with the golden necklace he deadpans,
"Tell me you have mutton here."
Korgidd's eyebrows raise at the mention of Bugman's.
"Bugman's ye say? A pint here. And a leg of that mutton."
Korgidd, sits waiting for his libations and meal, pondering the days events. While he still believes that his decisions today were the only honorable options, he can't help but feel like the manling, Vulpert, may be right. It did feel a bit like a setup. No matter, however, the past was ore already smelted, as his grandfather used to say, and now it was time to hammer the present into the future Korgidd desired. Korgidd's only concern was in regards to the dwarf, Turko's honor. Would he try to cheat at the fight? Or even more despicably, try to prevent Korgidd from making it there at all? Korgidd decides to take caution with the evening, mentally noting those that come and go from the inn and decides to sleep on his guard tonight. Sleeping in his armor with hammer and shield in hand is nothing new to the tunnel fighter, and it may turn out to be a wise decision until this business is handled.
Ale und Mutton Me zhinks its going zo be a long night.
Vulpert chews on the rubbery mutton and wonders why the dwarves prefer it so overcooked. He once had a conversation with a dwarf stonemason in Nuln named Gurrni who said something about cooking meat fully to stave off disease. Hrmph, still tasted like shoe leather.
As he chews, smacking his lips audibly, his mouth ruminating over his meal, his mind ruminating over the days events, Vulpert thinks back to Frau Van Vechten and the heavy spoon she used to punish those boys in the orphanage who would not chew in silence. Thinking of her, he chews louder, even opening his mouth a bit wider, smiling with glee that the old crone is thirty winters in the ground. Damn the dwarfs if this insulted their table sensibilities. The Frau did have some words of wisdom, however, and a few of these came back to him even as he 'honored' her memory.
"Korgidd, an old woman who once beat me with a seven-pound stew-spoon used to tell me that you should always bake two meat pies if company was coming, because you never knew if one would be maggoty. I think for all of our sakes we should have a contingency plan in place if Turok is treacherous. I have an inkling he means to win at any cost, and is not above a dishonorable act to assure this for himself."
"Your words echo my thoughts. But little more can be done, than just being aware. A hammer, asleep, is only a doorstop." Korgidd snorts, "My clan matriarch used to say that when she was deep into her ales." He drifts off a bit as he finishes his meal and ale. He settles in to his seat, absentmindedly chewing on a piece of mutton, stuck in his back molars.
He leans forward, and whispers conspiratorially, "Probably best if we sleep two to a room. Leave the other two empty. For protection and to keep our potential foes on their toes."
"Ten crowns?!? Even if Bugman himself served it, I still wouldn't pay that. Give me a good dwarfen stout and we'll call it a day." Korgidd mutters into his beard about the legal robbery perpetrated in some establishments.