| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 27 Jun 2004 : 19:34:23
Hereafter lies the scrolls of the voyages of the Sundabar Seven throughout Faerun.
Sundabar, city of dwarves, miners, and magic weapons, is where you have found yourself. You noticed the smoke and soot of the city from miles away at your approach. As you drew closer to your destination some of you wondered how anyone could live in the perpetual gloom that lingered over the city. For another few of you, it was like home. Last night, an unusual evening as the full moon was easily apparent in the sky, you received a message from the High Talhund of Dumathoin’s church in Sundabar. As dwarves you all respect the church of the Keeper of Secrets under the Mountain and so did not question attending a meeting with the cleric. In a city such as Sundabar his church rivaled that of any of the other Morndinsamman. Now it is morning and you have arrived at the private residence of the High Talhund. You knock on the solid iron door which is adorned with several gemstones, no doubt magic in nature. A small slit opens and what appears to be a gnome asks you to wait a moment. A soft series of clicks heralds the opening of the door. The gnome, a Svirfneblin who is probably a refugee of Blingdenstone, bids you enter and offers to take your cloak. In a soft voice he tells you in dwarven, “Please be seated and the High Talhund will be with you shortly.” You arrive in a small square room of dull gray stone with no apparent decorations or furniture save for four benches, two to a side facing each other on the walls to the left and right of the entrance. On the wall opposite the entrance is another door, this one of solid wood, banded with what looks like mithril, yet there is no apparent way of opening it. Hanging over the center of the foyer is a chandelier glowing with the magical light that illuminates the entry. Over the next few minutes other dwarves arrive, a strange gathering of the dwarven people, until there are seven of you. Upon the arrival of the seventh, the Svirfneblin announces, “We may proceed.” He crosses the room to the mithril banded door and speaks Melairkyn, and the door opens. |
| 16 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 03 Aug 2005 : 06:12:37
Look for some updated posts here. A brief overview of combat from this encounter, and the quick trip to Felbarr. I should get some of this up this weekend to bring everyone back up to speed. |
| Wood Elf Ranger |
Posted - 11 Oct 2004 : 01:35:02
Yay! I'm glad you got that put together Hammer, very nice!  My favorite part of the campaign so far  |
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 10 Oct 2004 : 22:37:38
From a side encounter between the arctic dwarves and a goat (oh yeah, and the goat's big buddy)
Darube rushes off to the stables that they had passed by earlier on their way into town with Dale trailing behind him. They enter in the large barn doors at the base of the building that looks like the restored remnants of a square tower. The doors lead into a hay filled area lined with stalls, mostly full from the whinneys coming from many of them. On the opposite wall is another pair of doors, opened, which lead to a small fenced area for livestock. Darube enters first and heads quickly for the stalls. His brother Dale follows him in, taking in the rather unwholesome smell and wonders which of the beasts would be accompanying them. He keeps an eye out for Darube's mount while keeping close to him. They notice an L shaped set of stone stairs on the corner to the left of the opposite doors, from which they begin to hear footfalls coming down. Quickly, Dale and Darube realize that the sound is coming from a large individual, as it keeps getting louder.
Remaining close to his brother Dale decides it might be prudent to not let whomever, or whatever is descending the stairs to see him just yet. He moves into the stall closest to Darube and hides just inside it, trying to mask his appearance from the owner of the heavy footfalls.
Darube stands right out in the middle of the stalls eagerly waiting for whoever is coming down the stairs as he did not see his mount anywhere and would like to know where it is. There is a moment of stunned silence as the two arctic dwarves realize that the figure coming down the stairs is a half-ogre, a half-ogre who is holding a goat!
"Hey there!" Darube yells up to the half-ogre seemingly not concerned for his safety with a wide grin and a big wave making sure the big guy can see him from way up there. "Me name be Darube, whats yer name me friend? I'sn sure like to see that ther goat!" He grins up at the half-ogre hoping to make a new friend.
The half-ogre shifts the goat and holds it with one hand. He uses his free hand to point to himself with his thumb and answers, "Me named Dwee. Do you wanna climb on me back? I can'd led you play wid Sayda cuz' I godda give 'im to a dwawf fwend of da Big Dalhund."
Dale smiles silently at the exchange and remains where he is, not wanting to disturb whatever meeting of minds the two were having. Absentmindedly, Dale fingers the scroll from the High Talhund and wonders what's written on it.
Darube hops up and down happily and exclaims. "Me be de Dalhunds dwarf friend! Sayda be me mount! Don ye worry me big friend me know how ta take care o yer goat." Darube says with a smile as he pats the big guy on his knee (the highest he can reach) and tries to get a good look at Sayda who seems to be much bigger than the dwarf but is still mostly swallowed up by the half-ogres hand.
The half-ogre looks momentarily confused, then brightens up, and finally says excitedly, "You be him!" As soon as he says it he looks confused again saying, "Bud you don' lookey like no dwawf. You lookey like a liddle kid." He scratches his head with his free arm and stares at Darube. Then he smiles again telling him, "Bud you do have a beard. I guessin' you just a showd dwawf."
Darube laughs with the half-ogre then tries to explain. "Me be an Ar-ti-c Dwarf" He tries to enounciate it out to make sure the half orge hears him correctly. "We has lighter skin n hair then the rest o our kin an may be shorter but we be much more tougher specially in da north." Darube scratches his head not quite getting what the half ogre said but he prounounces the goats name experimentally as he smiles at both of his new friends and holds his hand out for the goat to smell.
The half-ogre slowly, gently puts the mountain goat down and corrects the dwarf, "His name nod Sayda, id Saaaay-Daaa. Likey my fowesed fwend who play da funny music I dance to."
He nudges the goat in Darube’s direction. When the goat doesn't move the half-ogre tells him, "He no like most people. Me, I godda way wid animals. I thinkee you do doo."
Darube grins broadly then gently scratches behind the goats ears as he looks up to the half-ogre. "Thank ye me friend. Me brother and meself should be checking on da rest of our group but I'll be back for Sayda soon." With one last longing pat he turns to Dale to see if he is ready to head back to the group too.
Dale nods that he is indeed ready to return to the rest of the group, and smiles broadly at his brother's new found companion, and precedes his brother back to the rest of the group.
|
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 15 Aug 2004 : 17:00:45
The following morning the companions awake and prepare themselves for their journey.
Joylin prays for her spells, rechecks the gear, and packs her animal, waiting on the others to come down out of the inn.
Dale soon comes out, but whisks by Joylin heading for the stables to find his brother. Finding his brothers mountain goat missing he figures they stayed outside the city last night. He gathers the mounts remaining and leads them back to Joylin so they can finish checking all their gear.
Kaladorm and his brother Drontar rise at almost the same time. The bard turns to his brother saying, “'I didn' hear ye come in last night brother, I hope ye're night was pleasent. I thought for half a moment there you might have gone in te see our lovely cleric, then I realised I knew ye better'n that. I seen how nervous she makes ye, ye can't hide anything from yer brother you know.” He beams at Drontar adding, “'Thaarg's waiting fer us outside the city gates, must not be to his liking in here. I forgot to tell the others in all the excitement last night, I'll tell 'em this morning.”
The brothers pack their belongings and find some of the others waiting downstairs, and outside.
Kaladorm, Drontar, Joylin, and Dale set out, noticing the gray dwarf has appeared from somewhere to finally join them. Kaladorm chats amicably with the others about their evenings. Joylin studies the clouds and winds trying to determine the weather for their first day of travel. Drontar makes an examination of his mount from atop it wishing it could fly like the hippogriffs he was used to. Dale ties his long, flowing white hair into a neat pony tail. Then, he straightens his jacket, and rechecks his equipment and weapons. The gray dwarf Guaygrek mulls along in silent contemplation, perhaps recalling his spell list in case of trouble.
They leave the city walls without event, following the gently sloping road to a nearby wooded knoll.
Darube woke up just before the sun came up. He gently woke Sayda and found a nice green spot for him to graze, then whispered in his ear to stay put and watch out for the rest of the group as he went off to hunt for breakfast. He catches several small rabbits from the fields of nearby farmers and sets about stripping and cooking them. The aroma of the meal soon brings Thaarg-ka out of the copse of trees where he sits with the ranger helping where he can. They catch sight of their approaching companions and they all settle down for a quick breakfast.
During breakfast the party sets about determining their traveling and fighting order. The direct route northwest along the River Redrun to the trade route with Citidel Felbarr is decided on for travel. Everyone chooses their place for the journey for various situations, including the marching order in caves and mines which several of them are used to.
It is mid-Eleint, two nights after the Autumn Equinox, a blessed night as Selûne shone down fully on the land. The weather has turned cool, with early snows possible in several weeks. The sun shines brightly in the sky making for pleasant travel on the first day of the expedition. The surrounding land is alive with activity as the local farmlands prepare the land for the cold, harsh winter.
Guaygrek sends his bat familiar out to scout the area around Sundabar, yet still keeping him within the limits of their bond. He notes nothing out of the ordinary, just the activities of the locals.
Darube trots around on his very large shaggy mountain goat mount. While Darube is small for a dwarf, he and his brother are just the right size for arctic dwarves. On the back of the mountain goat, however, he looks small indeed. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, he is comfortable and very happy, showing a wide grin through his pale yellow beard. For a saddle he is using a small, light, comfy blanket since the goat can handle adverse weather as well as his rider.
Dale approaches his brother Darube and collects some of the gold the High Talhund gave them. He then approaches Joylin, and with a deep bow, presents a pouch of gold to her to cover the expenditure for the supplies, and also his coil of rope to be secured with the other supplies. He then approaches his brother’s goat mount and gently scratches behind its ears while contemplating their course.
Drontar hoists his pack on to his back and straps his axe on carefully.
Satisfied he can whip it out quickly if danger presents itself, he looks at the others, ready to go. Eying up his mount, he mutters, "I'm wishing this horse had a beak and some wings, but it looks strong enough." Patting its flanks, he clambers atop it and looks around him. Idly fingering the silver holy symbol around his neck, he brushes his thick black locks out of his face.
"You two up front, don't ye be straying too far. If there's danger, ye'd best let us know right away, I'm not fer letting ye get hurt."
At this Guaybrek speaks up with his intentions for traveling, “I'll stay at the back where I can cast any spells I might wish to." Guaygrek had a natural affinity for not being in anyone else's view.
The next few hours are spent traveling and getting acquainted. The farms and people are scarcer, yet they are still within patrol range of the city of Sundabar. The morning is pleasant, and the few people the party encounters on the road are friendly, if reserved.
Kaladorm notices the party’s scouts doing their job ahead, and at a convenient stop calls one over. "Look here at this. 'Tis a wonderous mechanical contraption. Look in the end and you can see much further...." Kaladorm twists the Spyglass round, so in fact the dwarf is looking at it through the correct end "If ye keep us alert to danger perhaps I can take a safer and closer look at it."
Darube slows Sayda when he sees Kaladorm motioning to him and takes up the contraption. "It makes ye look really small...," he begins to say as Kaladorm turns it so Darube is looking into it the right way. "Ooh I never knew ye had a more right there! That’s a big un, hehe" He turns the spyglass back to Dale, way back bringing up the rear and yells ouy, "Hey Dale ye got a boogy hangin from yer nose!" He tosses the spyglass back to Kaladorm with a wink and a quiet giggle and puts Sayda into a trot to get back out in front of the group as Dale wipes his nose and finds nothing there!
Kaladorm finishes the conversation and continues to chatter, sing, play his instruments and keep the mood upbeat and to pass the time traveling. He also tells tales of what he knows about Citadel Felbarr.
The rangers pick up on the low rumbling first, just a few moments before everyone else. A shallow sift of dirt eddies over the low horizon of trees and low hills ahead. An unknown group mounted on horses is on the road coming toward them. The companions are still within the area of outlying farms surrounding Sundabar, yet they know that with the almost permanent troubles of the North that they should be cautious.
After noticing the party approaching, Darube waits for the rest catch up then asks Kaladorm, "Can ye see anythin in yer contraption that would tell us who dey are?" Darube keeps calm not expecting any trouble yet.
After noticing the alert of the others Kaladorm squints to see what they are looking at, and puts the spyglass to his eye. "Well, here come some mounted folk by the looks of it, maybe they're off adventuring like us. Mayhap we can introduce ourselves and see if they can warn us of any dangers ahead. Keep cautious though, they may not be so friendly" Kaladorm begins blowing on his horn, both to bolster the spirits of the party and to possibly ward off any unfriendly creatures.
Dale, who is busily contemplating his brother's little prank, admits to himself that he has been caught off guard by the rumbling and everyone's springing to action. Dale doesn't know if the horse riders have friendly intentions, after all, at the moment all he can see is a cloud of billowing dust. He decides that keeping close to his brother would be best, so he spurs his mount ahead to catch up with Darube.
Joylin closes her eyes briefly, touching the holy symbol dangling from her neck. A well of positive emotions wash over the others nearby.
Dale gives a thankful, appreciative look to Joylin as he moves past. He joins his brother, clasping him on the shoulder. Then he drops his hands loose by his sides, close to his weapons should he need them. He turns to the group saying, “Perhaps we should continue forward, albeit cautiously, so we may appear as normal." Turning to Kaladorm, he says, "And lets keep our good eye on them with that fabulous device of yours."
Darube claps his brother on the back as well, comforted by his brother’s presence. "Aye me be agree'n me brudder let us continue forward to meet dem."
Joylin winces in surprise as half of the impact of Darube's strong clap reverberates through her own armored shoulder in a loud *CLANG! Joylin turns to the thief, "Dale!" she shouts to the arctic dwarf, "Be prepared to receive one of Berronar's blessings in short order... do not be alarmed: this will protect you should you get hit in battle." She goes through the motions of a divine incantation.
Thaarg-ka glances towards dale, and slurs, "Sesh is not too comfortable around horses, or armed riders nor am I. We will ride out to flank this group, and if peaceful negotiations are met, we won't be missed. If a fight is provoked, we will help immediately." With that, Thaarg-ka shows a few, simple hand signs to Dale: stop, come, and look. "Use these if you suspect trouble." With that, Sesh and Thaarg lope off into the grounds beside the road.
Not wanting to waste spells, Guaygrek uses his enlarge ability to increase his size hoping to intimidate and ward off any unnecessary conflict.
Drontar hefts his axe off his back and strides forward, ready to meet the group. Hoping he won't be forced to use it, he keeps it held down by his side, so as not to appear threatening. "It's me duty as yer chosen leader to talk to 'em, whoever they are. But I'm not fer fighting, unless they attack us first, ye understand? It's good to be prepared though, especially as we know the lands round here can be pretty dangerous."
As the riders crest the hill everyone sees that they are wearing the adornments of the Argent Legion. Twenty riders appear in all. Some of the soldiers are bandaged and injured, but all are steady in their saddles. The lead horseman stops, and everyone notices that he is a dwarf. He calls out, "Hail dwarf cousins! State yer intentions."
|
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 31 Jul 2004 : 00:03:38
With Joylin off to gather supplies, Taarg already outside the city, the gray dwarf off on his own, and the arctic twins heading to the stables, the gold dwarf brothers journey to a friendly inn they passed when making their way to the High Talhund’s house. There, Kaladorm spends the afternoon composing while his brother prays for guidance on their long journey ahead.
Late that afternoon Joylin returns to the inn with the supplies for the adventurers. She secures the supplies with the innkeeper. Then she grabs a quick meal and some ale just as Kaladorm and his brother come down to the common room where Kal begins to play a song on his lap harp. It is a song of heroes, a song to while away the time while traveling, and a strangely familiar song. Dale and Darube enter the inn just as he begins.
[to the tune of Omaha by Counting Crows]
"Start tearing the goblins down
Run past the oak tree and down to the old Vale
Start turning the undead to their homes
Roll a new corpse over
In the middle of the night
There's an druid treading around in the gathered rain
Well mister, if you're going to walk on water
Could you send a heal my way?
Kuldahar
Somewhere in middle Icewind Dale
Get right to the Heart of Winter
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your spellbook in
And hang your crossbow up at the door
Start threading through dungeons
Brush past the arrows that fly through the cold room
Start setting the yetis on fire
Knock the chieftain over
In the middle of the night
there's a druid chatting with animals on the porch
Hey mister, you don't want to talk to badgers
You're only going to talk to nothing else
Kuldahar
Somewhere in middle Icewind Dale
Get right to the Heart of Winter
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your spellbook in
And hang your crossbow up at the door
Start running the evil down
Drop past the danger come up through the other side
Start hacking the orcs into the ground
Start a new tale over
In the middle of the day
There's a young man yelling about the heroes of the day
Hey mister, if you're going to shout about us
You know you should let the whole world come and see.
Kuldahar
Somewhere in middle Icewind Dale
Get right to the Heart of Winter
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your spellbook in
And hang your crossbow up at the door
Kuldahar
Somewhere in middle Icewind Dale
Get right to the Heart of Winter
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your spellbook in
And hang your crossbow up at the door "
Smelling of stables, and with a wide grin on his face, Darube stomps around the room with his brother as Kaladorm plays, dancing with glee. After bumping into every patron at least twice he calls for a frothy mug of rothe milk. Between gulps, and the chorus, he continues stomping around and bellows ou the chorus of Kal’s song. When the song ends he raises his glass to the bard exclaiming, “Tis a fine song me friend!" He drains his glass and looks around for Dale, whom he lost in the excitement. Kaladorm bows deeply after the performance.
Dale, however, is at the bar already ordering an unknown drink for him and Kaladorm. He hands the drink to Kal telling him, “That was superb my friend." They toast and Dale downs the drink. Dale wanders to the tables and finds Joylin, and he takes a seat. There, he sits in thoughtful silence until his brother approaches. Dale pulls Darube aside and chatters to him while Joylin, Dontrar, and Kaladorm talk.
After chatting for a few minutes Joylin retires for the evening, bowing low to everyone. She heads upstairs to her room as Kaladorm begins chatting with the patrons, the bar staff, and his companions.
Drontar exits the inn after excusing himself, he had listened to all of his brothers stories many times before. He slowly walks to the cities temple of Moradin, taking in the air. There he is greeted by one of the priests. Drontar gives the bag of items he received from the High Talhund to the priest and goes inside to pray. After half an hour of solemn reverence, he heads back to the inn.
Later, after a pleasant evening, Kaladorm retires to his room. He is smiling as he bids goodnight to everyone, and he flicks a silver piece to the landlord which a patron donated to him for his performance. When he reaches his room he can hear faint mutterings coming through Joylin’s door as she recites her evening prayers. He mutters softly, “She must have been at it for hours.”
Soon after Kaladorm leaves, Darube bids everyone goodnight and tousels his hair as he heads out the door for the stables. There he procures his mount from his newfound friend, the half-ogre Tree, and turns north out of town.
Dale, the last companion left in the common room, silently leaves the room and makes his way to the stables in time to see his brother leave on his mountain goat steed. He returns to the inn and checks on the other party members, listening at their doors, keeping to the shadows, and standing guard over the passageway. He moves back downstairs after watching his brother return. He takes up a position to the watch the stairs while keeping to the shadows. He borrows an old pipe and weed from a late sleeping patron and settles in for the night. He blows small smoke rings while watching and contemplating through the night.
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 26 Jul 2004 : 06:23:58
Joylin exits the room to find Kaladorm playing an old dwarven lament on his horn. He stops playing and gives her a polite nod. He then pulls out a pen and some paper and begins to write.
Joylin unfolds a map while approaching him saying, “Nice tune you had there - put ants in my pants and made me want to leave right away. Don't switch to a dirge just yet! Here's the options we have to git to Beorunna's Well." She draws two thick lines on her map with a piece of coal and shows it to him. She asks, “What do ye think? Goin' north immediately is the quickest route, but going through Silverymoon first would allow us to practice our teamwork more safely while we cross Silverymoon Pass, as we cross several towns on the way where we could heal or rest; then we could restock in Silverymoon. North first is quickest, but that means we git to stock in Felbarr before we go through the hills of Rauvin Mountains. It's more risky for such an untested group is all I'm sayin'... let's wait and see what the two trackers have to say about it." As she mentions this Taarg-ka exits, soon followed by Darube. She waves them over and points out the routes to them on the map.
After much nodding and pointing she moves aside and empties the contents of her bag on the bench. Six scrolls, two vials, a belt, and a small pouch of coins empty out. She motions the others close saying, “If you are willing, I will tell ye which, if any, of yer items are magical. Just place yer items on this table if you want to know if magic lies within them."
Darube pats his brother on the back and holds out two small vials, “If'n ye wouldn't mind I'd be liken to know whats in dese," he asks with a warm smile. His brother does likewise with all of his items, three vials, a feather, and a small bag of coins. He smiles warmly at Joylin and inclines his head slightly.
Kaladorm places a wooden songhorn, beautifully carved in relief with the Sundabar Seven’s images, in front of the cleric. She invokes a minor orison from her goddess.
Kal speaks to Joylin, “I'm thinking missy that the second route you've planned would be far less direct and adventuresome. Though I'd love to be a'wanderin off to silverymoon I'm thinkin that we'd best be as quick as possible about rescuing our young friend. Of course thats between you and Drontar to decide, but I thought you'd best know me opinions."
Dale pulls Drontar aside and speaks softly, “It would seem that there are a number of tracks leading into the walls in the old Dwarf's chamber. An ash marking tells me there are definitely secrets hidden behind the walls. Perhaps...riches."
He continues by telling Guaygrek, as he leaves the High Talhund’s room, and finally his brother, all quietly in hushed whispers as Biviltirin, the deep gnome majordomo, enters the room quietly with seven sets of rolled parchments in his hand. Leaving the door ajar he approaches the party.
Biviltirin looks at a name entered on the top of each as he hands them out to the appropriate party. In clear, precise common he says, “These are writs for safe passage in the city and its territories. Do keep them safe as some of you will undoubtedly need them later.” At this he looks at the gray dwarf, then the two arctic twins. He continues, “Tonight you can use the firelight of your camp to read,” under his breath stating, “if some of you can read,”, continuing, “the markings I have made on the second sheet. These will identify the items in your bags, noting any special properties they may have. The items are intended for your use in,” again under his breath, “Dumathoin help us,” continuing again, “aiding in the success of your mission. Any and all items you appropriate while on said mission are yours to keep barring forceful re-possession by any and all former owners. Your mounts,” he looks perplexingly at Darube then finishes, “are at the stables around the corner. Please do not eat them and try to return them to my master. If you are unable to do so try and find a good home besides your stomachs for them,” at this he looks at the wild dwarf and rolls his eyes. Dismissingly he adds, “Now, if you have no further questions please be on your way and bring the High Talhund’s son back to us. It seems I have a mess to mop up in the study,” again he looks at the wild dwarf and rolls his eyes. He turns back to the open door and hurries off to his duties. The door shuts quietly behind him.
Seeing the exchanges during Biviltirin’s speech between Dale and first Drontar, then Guaygrek, and finally his brother Darube, Kaladorm turns away from Joylin without warning and strolls over to his brother and whispers something to him.
Drontar suddenly bursts out, “Too darn right I’m concerned! Now I enjoy a little gold as much as the next dwarf but whatever’s there’s not ours an’ that’s that. We’re supposed to be looking for the High Talhund’s son and Dale there’s more concerned about what sort of treasure he’s keeping. Get yer priorities right, lad, that’s all I’m saying,” the last part in a sympathetic tone.
He rounds on his twin, “As fer ye, what’s been tugging yer beard is beyond me. I don’t know what’s been up with ye lately but ye seem to have lost that serious edge,” he snaps irritably. “Think a little harder about who ye are and why ye’re here, ye’re darn lucky to be in the Lorekeepers and ye know it! But the way ye’ve been acting lately kinda makes me glad I never…,” he ends by coughing loudly and flushing. Apologetically he looks at Kaladorm and mumbles, “I’m sorry, it’s just hard, that’s all. And I’m agreeing with ye that we should go past Felbarr. I’m not seeing any reason to delay by going through Silverymoon.”
With false consternation Dale responds to Drontar’s accusations, “Who said ought about Gold? I just be doing my job, as you may recall. I am a rogue, and I find secret doors as well as traps. As it turns out, some of the tracks leading into the wall were outlined in a faint burn of ash which then dissapeared when I touched them. You know, as well as I what that could mean." Softening his voice he continues, “It is said that an ambigious statement is always seen as a confirmation of the listeners deepest fears. It would seem this is the case. I was not aware the my skills we in so little demand that each time I reported their successful use, my motives would be called into question." A hurt look crosses his face as he finishes, “I don't steal.” Dale moves back to Darube’s side, sees the look on his face, and returns to face Drontar. Looking at both twins intently he says, "Let's not be enemies so early in our quest. I want to know who I'm dealing with, and ye two look to me to be honourable dwarves. I have no quarrel with you. And before ye ask about the grey one, I told him so we can see his reaction." His tone lowers toward the end so only the three of them are part of the conversation. He finishes his thought, "I'd like to see how he interprets what I said." He bows and then steps towards Joylin and the map adding, “I've no knowledge of the lands around here lady. One route's as good as another, 's long as me brother's happy with the smell o' it.”
He turns toward the light and holds up his paper to get a better look at it.
Grinning at the fortuitous news of his mount, Darube brims with excitement. He nods to his brother and grins even wider. He then turns to Joylin and looks at her map. To all he says, “Me be thinkin we just go north. Tis da quickist way and der ain't be nothin two sets 'o twins cain't handle tween here an der. Now lessen ye need more 'o me advice I's be at da stable taken care 'o me new mount!" Through it all he does not stop grinning.
Kaladorm places a hand on his brother’s shoulder and nods. After a short silence he takes the songhorn back from Joylin and thanks her. He says to all, “Since we have some time before we leave perhaps we should explore the city, and meet later. Drontar and I passed a place on the way called The Trumpet." Kaladorm smiles at the fitting name, "admittedly 'tis a 'uman inn, but from what I know of Sundabar we should be welcome there, lest any offend the might dwarves below. Besides they might know somethin' of the surface that our dwarven friends here don't. Brother....." Kaladorm pauses, "I'm'a goin' to visit the libraries here, see if I can find any information about these Uthgardt and who might'a taken the High Talhund's son, any old enmities and the like, an organisation opposed ta the dwarves in Sundabar.....You uh....you want to come with me? I could find you some old tales of Moradin there perhaps, just like before in the Great Rift"
A smile crosses Drontar’s face, at first forced, but ultimately genuine. He answers, “Yeah, I’ll be coming with ye, I think we ought to get to know the area a bit better. It seems the rest of ye have a head start on us. I’d also like to pay a visit to the temple afore we leave, if ye don’t object.”
He moves in front of Dale and bows to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse ye like that, I’m just a bit snappy today,” he says. “Ye’re a dwarf an’ we all know dwarves aren’t for stealing, a swift blow to the neck is all thieves back home get. All they deserve, too. Ye’ve got more sense than that and I’m sure Moradin’s blessed ye with yer skills for good reason too. Can ye forgive me?” He offers his hand in an upright fashion, arm bent at the elbow, the traditional dwarven grasp of stone.
Accepting the apology, Dale shakes Drontar's hand firmly. He smiles at Drontar, then Joylin, and says to the woman, "Aye lady, I'll try me best".
To end his brother’s near frantic excitement, he pockets his items and states, "I'll be with me brother if ye be needing me. We'll be with the ponies."
During the exchanges Guaygrek the Gray listens intently, but plays it off as he pores over the writs and scrolls.
They all step outside after gathering their possessions. Joylin gathers everyone together and takes a note of the supplies needed for the trip. She collects the gold for the items and sets out for an afternoon of shopping asking if anyone would care to help and join her in her tasks.
Those watching Guaygrek closely note a brief moment of panic as the party decides to split up in the city. He heads toward the back of the High Talhund’s residence.
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 19 Jul 2004 : 03:18:38
During the speech the arctic twin named Dale tries to search the room unnoticed, but no one notices or mentions noticing (although the High Talhund’s eyes seem to follow the young dwarf, but it may just be a trick of the firelight).
Darube calls to the wild dwarf, “Do not ye worry me friend ye will not find me impeeding yer hunt only helping the best me can and me do know da wilds here in da north and the Balance ye speak of. Me also agree about da horses." He turns to the High Talhund and asks hopefully, “Would ye happen to have a sturdy mountain ram me could ride?" He then rummages through his bag as the others continue.
Joylin nods after the wild dwarf while inspecting her bag. She calls after Taarg, “You need not to worry, Hunter: thanks to Berronar's warm touch, you will tread snow as you would the hot sands of Chult's beaches."
Dale returns to his brother Darube’s side before the next dwarf can speak.
Drontar, with the patience only a dwarf can muster, waits for the wild dwarf to finish before giving a gruff cough, and then saying, “Well met, all of ye. As ye may recall, somewhere in me brother's speech, me name's Drontar Thunderaxe. Back home in the Rift, I was in the Sky Guard and Kal and me," he gives a strangely furtive look at his twin and continues, “got chosen to escort an emissary to King Harbromm in Citadel Adbar. I can offer ye no more than me skill with an axe and the blessings of Moradin. Me word is me bond and I've already pledged me blade to yer cause." He walks up to the High Talhund with his bag in hand and lays it at Dumalair’s feet stating, “I thank ye for yer kindnesses, but I'm not needing any of this." The High Talhund acts as if to reply, but Drontar interrupts, “I'm not meaning ye any disrespect but I got what I'm needing with me already. Yer mind's obviously with yer son and that's understandable, may Dumathoin keep him safe and hidden. Well, I've said more than enough, we're not solving anything standing here. I'm ready to go when the rest of ye are." He bows to the High Talhund, turns to Joylin and speaks, “Lady priest, I also pledge me axe to ye, or whomever else shall be leading this expedition, but I'm thinking ye're the best suited to the task."
Dale agrees with the paladin, "Aye, tis best to put the best foot forward. I feel me brother and yon other ranger would do well to lead the expedition, being in front. I would be happy if you would take charge though. I'd feel a might bit better being led by someone favoured of the Gods." As he says it Dale respectfully inclines his head for a momentary pause.
Joylin begins to pack the items from the bag in her backpack when she hears their words. She blushes at the proposal and looks at her companions. Speechless for many moments, she finds her voice, “Sons of the Mordinsamman, As it is Berronar's duty to advise and care for her beloved Moradin, so shall I be for the Sundabar Seven. As it is not Berronar's duty to speak in the stead of Moradin or dictate his actions, I must likewise respectfully decline the leadership of the Sundabar Seven."
She bows to each of them and says, “Brothers, you are all perhaps a wee bit new to the customs of us Shield Dwarves... in the North, female leadership is a seldom event, if it has happened at all. I do not recall hearing of any fellow sister serving as a leader of military or trade missions. Females belong in the heart.” Now she bows her head completely, looking at the floor before continuing, “We tend, teach, care, heal, cook and advise. Without this support, leadership would be impossible, as our male dwarves would not have the proper time and mental stamina necessary to defend, fight, build, mine and trade."
She looks up, “I have sworn not to dishonor this quest, and according to you, my leadership would not constitute a lack of honor. However I have also sworn not to dishonor my King, and not upholding the traditions of our people would be an affront, I believe. Perhaps, one day, if the King deems suitable for women to serve in positions of leadership, perhaps then I will explore this possibility, but not now. It is not my place."
She determinedly looks to Drontar, “Master Thunderaxe - Drontar that is - I believe it is now time to show your quality. Step into the light Sir! This is no time for humility, Glorious Holy Warrior of Moradin!! Only you, having served in the reknowned Sky Guard, being of a military background and no stranger to command, are suited to the task of leader. The rest of us are specialists, and as wise as my words may sound to you, I am naught but a priest, and no doubt less effective and seasoned than you in battle. Combat and bloody work require men of action and decision. I will serve as your advisor, protector, and second-in-command, however, if you are willing... But you are our rightful leader and paladin, Master Drontar Thunderaxe! for you have been teached in the ways of Moradin, and your soul has been hardened both in battle and by the glorious blessings of the Soulhammer!"
Joylin turns to Drontar on her right heel, and bangs her left heel back alongside her right foot, snapping at attention. She salutes Drontar in the Iron Guard's way, then kneels in front of the paladin. Her eyes full of passion, her breath swift, she declares, "Officer Drontar Thunderaxe, beloved servant and paladin of Moradin, I, Joylin Stoneshield, swear to serve you loyally and in my best capacity until the end of our mission and beyond, if Berronar wills it. I will advise you, see to your health and obey your orders. As a servant of Berronar, wife of Moradin, your master, I am now bound to you in battle or peace until the end of our quest."
She stands and hugs Drontar fiercely and whispers something in his ear.
Dale turns to the old dwarf, inclines his head in respect, and says, “It occurs to me that Drontar fortuitous preparation might not speak for all of us,” as he picks up the bag, “Perhaps it would be best if we took his bag with us, lest there be something we could use that we would otherwise not have?"
Drontar blushes at either Joylin’s hug or the words, or at both, and hugs her back. He then steps back and looks into her eyes. He begins, “Yer words are doing me a real kindness, Joylin, but I’ve got no real wish to be leading all of yer. Me Ma always taught us that it was best to lead from the back, so to speak. That way, every dwarf can be judged by his or her deeds, rather than their words. If ye don’t want to be in charge, I can understand that, I have no wish to lead either.”
Then to all he adds, “I’d rather not do it, but if ye all insist, I won’t turn away from what are clearly Moradin’s wishes.”
Feeling self-conscious he steps back to the side of the room. He looks at Dale and marches over to the arctic dwarf asking, “Actually, I’m thinking I do want that pack. That way I can give it to someone who’s needing it more than meself. If that’s alright with ye,” he asks of the High Talhund.
The old dwarf merely nods.
"Oh, I insist," Joylin replies. "Whether ye want it or not, ye're to be leadin' us; it's not about wanting or not wanting, it's not about personal pride; it's about who has the most experience as a leader so we can have a
better chance to come back here in one piece."
She then finishes adjusting her gear, armor, and maps, then exits the chamber, waving to Dumalair.
Guaygrek looks baffled at the exchange between the dwarves. He turns to Dale and Darube (the arctic twins), Drontar (the paladin gold dwarf twin), and the High Talhund and a half-smile forms on his gray lips. “Anyone else glad that we won't have to hear any more Exile-bedamned vows?"
Wary to conceal what is in his bag he asks the old dwarf, “High Talhund, sir, these scrolls - do you know what spells are written on them?"
He answers briefly, “Biviltirin shall let you all know what secrets your bags hold. Darube, your mount already awaits you at the stables.”
Interrupting them, Dale bows deeply and ominously states, “I bid ye farewell, but ye might even be seeing me before long." To the remaining dwarves he says, “I'll be seeing ye outside." He is followed by his brother Darube and the paladin Drontar.
Addressing all of the dwarves as they leave he says, "May Dumathoin be on your side, for all of you keep secrets as does the Keeper." With that the last of you out the door seem to see the firelight dim as you leave the room.
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 18 Jul 2004 : 18:56:43
As the High Talhund finishes talking the gray dwarf rummages through the bag intently. The bard, Kaladorm, excitedly does the same, pointing out items to his brother Drontar, who quickly gives him a scowl. Sufficiently reprimanded, Kaladorm puts the items in his pack and announces, “Thank you High Talhund, for those not stirred by your words, surely they are now stirred by this generous offer, there must be no doubt in anyones mind about how much you want your son back. Let us be off everyone, our places in history await. To Beorunnas Well." The bard plays a chord on his lap harp and hums a marching song as he leaves the room. A hopeful feeling lingers on the others after he leaves.
The wild dwarf then stands up from his squat, back to the fire, and slurs, “I am Thaarg-Ka, hunter of the Keratha Valley Tribe, bearer of the Knife of clan Everwarden, made by Vuddor Dumalair's son. I am the self-appointed emissary of my tribe to King Emerus Warcrown of Citadel Felbarr, who called for cousins and brothers to help hold our ancestral home." Shaking his head slightly, the others hear the trilling of chimes, seashells, and glass beads which fill his dreadlocked hair. He continues, “As i have said, i am a tracker and guide. I take from the bounty of nature, and make it mine, and while i am confident of my abilities, these cold conditions are not what I am accustomed to." He turns to the ranger Darube, and says, “perhaps your ease in the mountains breath, where water turns to rock, will be useful. just have a care not to spoil the course before i have seen it, and stay downwind of me, for the elves of the Moonshae Islands, my teachers and guides, have taught me well, and i would not shame them. they know the peace of nature, and have taught me that the stillness of the hunt makes the capture sweeter."
He then addresses everyone, focusing on Dumalair, “I thank you for your gift of horseflesh, it shall be warmly welcomed in my firepit, and will serve to unite our Seven *ahem*, in feast tonight. Do not worry that it should be a burden, only to bear me or my effects, for i have found that ponies are too heavy of foot for the chase, or for stealth, and serve only to broadcast the hunt to all. Nay, ponies are too soft, too stubborn, and too scared to do aught but whinney to protect themselves from other hunters. I will take only Sesh, who comes from forests well south, on this hunt. We know and trust one another. I cannot say the same for the rest of you. Treat Sesh with respect, and there will be no need to test the sharpness of his claws, the power of his jaws. That can be left to those who would bring harm to us, and to this hunt."
He opens his bag, carefully examines each piece, then stores each item appropriately. During this process the others note his odd armor, his tattoos, his attire, and finally his wiry physique. Noticing this he grunts and says, “Aye, thin, and whipcord-strong i be. Do not think, though, that i fail as a hunter. I take only what is needed, as i was taught. I use everything I catch, wheter as bait, food, clothing or shelter. I must insist that you all abide by these laws for this hunt. The balance here, in the north, is too precious and vulnerable to impede. In the jungles of the South, life bursts forth, replacing life at every moment, every chance. Not so, here. Already I have seen the balance upset, stinking fires amassed such that no sky can be seen. We have heard, too, of an imbalance that must be corrected. These *De-row* are but a symptom,a festering wound. While we hunt for the son of Dumalair, we must pay heed to the balance we interrupt. Surely you can see the wisdom in this, Darube?" He clears his throat and continues, “My companions from Chult have returned already, to take their places in the tribe, to be granted their clan-names. Thaarg-Ka remains here, in the north, called by a mountain spirit, and guided by Thard Harr. He shows the uses for all in nature, from the bugs beneath the soil to the birds taking wing. Thaarg-Ka learns well, and will use all of nature to shelter us from the trials of Thard Harr. You have been warned: His influence is heavy here, and he will test us all. Pray to him that he has given you a guide worthy of His most Challenging moods. Pray that our Hunt goes well." He swings his hair ceremonially, straightens, opens his sheath at his hip, and draws his blade. He invokes, “As the mountain spirit has called, Thaarg-Ka responds, water and earth, and now, blood." After which he draws the blade across his thumb. He lets a few drops of blood mix with the already spilled beverage and again continues, “May my words be the wind that binds the elements of this hunt together, water and earth, blood and wind." He sheaths his dagger and leaves the room. Everyone notices that his dreadlocks sway and bob in time to his steps, but are completely silent now.
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 12 Jul 2004 : 19:49:28
Guaygrek snorts, both mentally and physically, and turns to the High Talhund asking, " How much will you be paying us and where do you think we should be starting our little search, then?"
Joylin, sensing the gray dwarf is attempting to squirm out of the blessing, smiles. She turns to the old cleric, gives a small sigh, and says, ""Sir, I am here on official duty, detached from the Iron Guard to help your assembled team the best I can. Thus, you can rest easy that I will not inquire for a payment, and that you can redistribute my 'share' - if you had planned a reward - amongst the other six dwarves seated at this table. For honor and duty. For the Mordinsamman!"
She then looks to Dale and continues, "Not everyone here benefits from the iron patience that Moradin gave to my Shield and Gold brethren. Long introductions and lengthy retelling of personal stories is normally the tradition of us dwarves afore the beginning of a long journey, adventure or campaign. Ale is usually also part of the equation. However, if time is of the essence, and if you have no more information for us, we shall depart for the temple that your son was last seen at. The longer we take," then turns to the wild dwarf, "the colder the trail will get."
Then to all of the dwarf companions she says, " However, we at least need to learn each other's names and roles in battle so we know how to face the countless foes we will run into once we come out of Sundabar's protective walls. I know Mister Thaarg-Ka is a hunter and tracker, which is wonderful news -- perhaps we could convince more of your tribe to journey North, which would liberate us dwarves from our dependency on elves for all things concerning the woodlands... But what about the rest of you seated here? As you all know, my name is Joylin and I am a cleric. I can fight decently and I am a blessed channel of Berronar's healing magic."
She turns to Dale and questions, " What about you, Sir?"
Dale responds by standing up, motioning at his self, and proudly answers, " Fair speech is not one of my talents.
I speak a few tongues, yet none of them particularly sweetly. I am a rogue. I can open the locks for us." He then motions to his brother stating, "and I stop traps from hurting us. My brother," again motioning to his twin, "is a ranger of some abililty." Beaming he continues, " I stop hunter's trap from harming his friends in the forest. I know what skills I will bring to the group, skills I fear we will need before our quest is done. My brother here is a tracker of some worth as well", nodding at Darube, hunter "and two heads are certainly better than one, right?", he questions Darube, then stops and waits for his brother to continue.
Beaming with pride Darube answers, "Aye what me brudder said be true. We can scout ahead with Thaarg-Ka, us tracking n Dale takin down da traps. Both us be good at stealth but let Dale handle people and leave me with animals. When its comes to a fightin, which me be sure theres gonna be lots!, do not ye be seperatin me and Dale as we be fightin well together. Him settin up flank or both o us fightin as close as only twin bothers can." Unused to speaking he stops, but the others can almost see his mind re-living past adventures with his twin.
With pride and brotherly joy Dale clasps Darube around the shoulder at the high praise each has heaped upon the other. He also seems to be thinking to past battles won and grins even more broadly. Suddenly he realizes the situation and stops, turns, and awaits the rest of the introductions.
Kaladorm steps forward and bows, "I'm Kaladorm Thunderaxe, honoured member of the Lorekeepers, I'll be your scribe for the journey. You can count on me to pen down the events as they unfold, and retell the tale to all I meet. The world will know of the company of heroes from Sundabar. Also especially for you Joylin," he smiles and winks, " I'll be happy to play you one of those catchy smite-em-all marching songs as we journey and throughout battle. I'm getting a reputation for my skills on the horn," his hand strays toward the horn at his belt, " and I can bash out a tune on the lap harp too. Fear not brave companions, for you I shall attempt to make the hardest tasks a trifling matter, to stir you into battle or instill courage in you. I also have experience as an emissary, indeed it is why I came here, and will do my best to both charm our friends and confuse our enemies! Let history unfold as the brave Sundabar Seven make their place in the annals of time!"
Joylin wistfully smiles and says, "Pleased to meet you Master Kaladorn! Sundabar Seven eh? you may have something here!"
Dumalair shifts his weight in his seat and speaks, “I am willing to pay everyone, including the young lady, in suitable forms of payment. If it is gold you seek Gray One, then you shall receive ample payment.” As if in answer, the deep gnome again enters the room with a tray. This time, however, the tray holds seven large bags. He makes his way around the group and presents each a bag, then leaves.
“These are some items suited to each of your areas of expertise. A small sum of coins is included to outfit this expedition, and ponies await you at the stables around the corner from my residence.”
He turns to Joylin saying, “I do hope the Mordinsamman bless your journey, and I appreciate the help of the Iron Guard in loaning me your services.”
The High Talhund breaks into a fit of coughing suddenly and raises his hand to stop Joylin and the others from tending to him. Just as suddenly the coughing stops. “There… is little anyone can do to counter centuries of… soot and soil from the forges. While I would eagerly await the help of a beautiful lass such as yourself Joylin, I need you to find my son instead. As for his last whereabouts, he contacted me from… Beorunna’s Well. A small group of dwarves has taken up residence with the barbarians of the Black Lion Uthgardt. Talhund Sambuernor Boldaxe was the last dwarf that I know to have seen my son. He looks after the dwarves there.”
He then addresses the seven, the Sundabar Seven, as a group saying, “Please finish introducing yourselves and ask any other questions you may have. If possible I would like you to set out as soon as you are ready this afternoon.”
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 08 Jul 2004 : 16:08:43
The dwarven woman sitting at the table seems to wait until everyone else is finished before standing up and bowing, with her right fist over her left breast, to each of the men beginning with the High Talhund. She begins speaking, "Most honorable High Talhund, it is with the full support of Citadel Adbar's High Faenor that I come to your aid. My holy mother sends her prayers of good health, and she has instructed me to see to you personally, if you will have me, after this meeting. As to the matter at hand, I would be most honored to help my six fellow dwarves in this quest. With valorous warriors both from the warm south and freezing north, we are bound to find your son. Let's hope we find him alive and well, but in any fashion, we have the advantage with such an array of warriors... A wild hunter with us, and an underdark guide too: pray the Keeper of Secrets Under the Mountain that he will let this mystery unravel in front of such a diverse, eloquent and legendary gathering."
She warily looks toward the gray dwarf and again speaks to Dumalair, "However, Sir, I would like to be assured that the Gray One is to be trusted. Not so long ago our allies from Mithril Hall have fallen at their hands, as you no doubt remember from your younger days, having lived personally in those times, Sir." She follows this with an extended period of silence in honor of those that have fallen.
To the gray dwarf she says, "It is the first time I see one of your kind, Gray One. I judge men by their work, but your people's reputation put me on guard even as I speak here. Know, Gray One, that I will not associate myself, either in arms or as a healer, with someone that will bring dishonor to Berronar, our Holy Mother, or to my beloved King Harbromm, ruler of Citadel Adbar." She removes her silver pendant holy symbol and lays it across the table in front of the gray dwarf. "Swear on Berronar Truesilver, your right hand touching her blessed metal, that you will not bring shame and dishonor to this quest, my goddess and my King, and you shall have my absolute trust from here on end -- for breaking your oath would mean having me as a foe until the end of your days, or until the Mother of Safety calls me to Dwarfhome," she requires.
The High Talhund turns toward the woman and speaks to her softly, "Who is to be trusted indeed. While I know this group is unusual I do not seek to question the Keeper his secrets. Everyone has a place in this group and if it pleases, I will vouch for our cousin from the depths."
He turns to Guaygrek and says, "I know that your intentions are not evil, but the young lady will want a sort of guarantee. If you would agree to this I will, after returning my son, share with you some information regarding your family. While your brethren have recently been roused from Mithril Hall this does not condemn you. In fact, our ancestors may have more in common than you would think. But I say too much. Shall you agree to this pact?"
Guaygrek lets a hint of anger show before responding to the woman's remarks, "As a rule of thumb I don't make oaths on the heathen gods that condemned my people - in fact I tend not to make promises that I can't keep in general. However I don't intend to harm anyone here, so I hereby swear - with the Gray Protector as witness - that my intention is only to complete this task, and not 'dishonor' the quest." However, he includes, "Now how about you? I believe it is within my right to expect a similar vow from you."
He slowly turns back to the High Talhund, a slight quiver in his voice as he asks, " Information regarding... my family? I'm afraid you must be sorely mistaken, forgiving my impertinence. I will indeed speak to you, but for now let us leave this subject be."
Joylin responds to Guaygrek by grabbing her holy symbol off the table, holding it to her stomach, and swearing stoutly, " I, JOYLIN STONESHIELD, SWEAR ON MY HOLY PATRON, BERRONAR TRUESILVER, THAT I WILL NOT CONSCIOUSLY BRING SHAME AND DISHONOR UPON THIS QUEST AND UPON KING HARBROMM, RULER OF CITADEL ADBAR. I WILL ATONE, AT THE EARLIEST CONVENIENCE, FOR ANY SHORTCOMINGS OR SAID DISHONOROUS ACTS THAT I MAY DO AGAINST MY OWN FREE WILL." She sits down and smiles at the gray dwarf and says, " Master Dwarf, I am impressed. Very impressed. There is still honor running in your veins, I believe, and I begin to understand why Berronar begged Moradin to forgive Laduguer when time came to reckon for his crimes, why she stayed Moradin's hand when the latter was about to deal Laduguer a swift justice with Soulhammer... There is perhaps some good left in your kind yet, and Berronar no doubt saw some future part to be played by the Duergar. What is your name, dear colleague and companion?" With a loving smile she stares, magically, at him, seemingly into his soul.
The two arctic dwarfs meanwhile step to the side of the room and one, which one at this point only their mother could tell you as they look so alike, quietly asks the other, "When the blazes are we goin' to get out o' here? Or do we need ta make an oath too?"
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 07 Jul 2004 : 21:25:23
The wild dwarf sitting on the hearth of the fireplace speaks, "to outlive a son is but nature's way of culling the flock, giving to others so that they may continue as you do. to outlive a family of sons says that your mountain spirit, this 'Duu-maaa-thoo-in', favors your tribe as prey. You speak, though, of a hunt. a hunt for a son, though he is not the prey." He turns to the arctic dwarf, Dale, and adds, "the hunt is all you need, but, as your brother points out, tribe is paramount, for without the tribe, there can be no hunt."
He continues, "Mountain spirit was wise, though, when he called me to you. you will need a guide. a hunter. you will need shelter from the storm, and pack to keep you warm at night. especially you," he turns toward the grey dwarf, "You look to have not seen the light for too long, and are withered, shriveling. Even the vuddor of the mount seems lively next to you," indicating the old dwarf.
He speaks once more to Dumalair, "As the seasons swing, so does my calling bring me further north, from far Chult, I am Thaarg-Ka, and as your mountain spirit has called my name to you, i respond. Thard Harr says 'find new hunting grounds, that the tribe may prosper'. Thard Harr sends me north to find a lost tribe, then the mountain spirit calls a new pack to me. I will guide them for you," he says, almost as boastful as Kaladorm. "But, i will need something of your son. something," as dark, tattooed hands begin to play with beads, shells, feathers woven into his mop of dreadlocks, brushing each piece in a ritualistic sequence, " something... personal." He meets Dumalair's eyes, nods, then takes a sip of his drink, and swears, ""Our bargain is met." Finally, he pours the remainder of his drink on the stone floor.
Dumalair addresses the wild dwarf, "Thaarg-ka, I appreciate your help. I can only hope my lost tribe can be re-united. Something of my son's you say, how is this?"
Dumalair pulls a small bundle from beneath his robes and hands it to Thaarg-ka, opening it at the sides as he passes it to him. Inside is a mithril dagger, plain, yet beautiful in craftsmanship and decoration. The hilt to the crossguard forming a small hammer, and the blade decorated with runes. Dumalair quietly whispers, "It was his last creation in the forges before he left. The runes dedicate it to his lost kin. Is this what you need?"
The wild dwarf receives the knife ceremoniously and responds, "Even this is too much... but perhaps his ties to this knife will help me locate him. it is well that you can let go of such a thing, for i had heard that here, in the north, a dwarf is judged by his halls, his tapestries," he indicates the room's decorations. "These material things were brought from the earth, but will return to the ground in their time, as the cycles permit. If our travels permit, i will return this blade to its' creator, that it may help reunite your pack, and bring you solace in the waning of your days."
He wraps the dagger in a piece of hide and places it beneath his jerkin which bristles with shark teeth.
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| MuadDib |
Posted - 07 Jul 2004 : 13:50:29
I thought about that, and I realised my rather strange sense of humour may come across that way. Fortunately, it wont happen from my side at least, since I've only read one or two from the Cleric Quintet, and that was many moons ago. So any resemblance is purely coincidental. I hope to define my own character, but we shall see. If i do tend towards said couple, please let me know. Cause I dont want to RP those two. Remember, im the one with the brains *beam* |
| Kaladorm |
Posted - 07 Jul 2004 : 11:58:50
I can see an Ivan and Pikel relationship forming between Darube and Dale :) If anyone says 'The Trouble With Traps' to them I think I'll cry. |
| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 07 Jul 2004 : 00:43:30
After completing his story, the Arctic dwarf twins respond. First the one called Dale asks, "What's in it for us?" Then his twin forcefully moves him aside. He reprimands his brother by telling him, "Wut ye be thinkin? Family is most impert'nt. Wut if our sons went offn to find our homeland? Would not ye do everthin in yer power to help them?" Turning to the High Talhund he says, "Me and me brudder will help ye find yer son."
Kaladorm, the bard, speaks next, "Family is very important to us Gold Dwarves, I can understand your plight, I will do whatever I can to aid the safe return of your son. It would be an honour to be of service." Then he asks, "But what makes you think your son is still alive? Tell me, did he reach his destination when the communications ended, or was he still travelling? I'm afraid I must confess I'm not familiar with the area, but I have read of your ancestral home and the battles with the Drow in great libraries back home. Indeed if we are successful in this mission, I would very much like to peruse your books and scrolls here. So let me pledge to you my skills, I will find your son, dead or alive, and do my very best to aid the completion of his quest. We shall go down in history as heroes (penned by hand along the way), Kaladorm and Drontar and companions, Saviours of Barmalair, Destroyers of Drow infestation!"
Drontar, Kaladorm's twin, approaches Dumalair and asks, "Are ye all right there? Ye just sit back there and relax. As me brother said... As me brother said, we'll help find yer son for ye." At this he raises his head and takes a knee pledging, "By Moradin, I pledge me axe to ye. We'll find yer son, have faith."
During these exchanges the grey dwarf sits silently toward the back of the group.
Dumalair eyes the grey and wild dwarves, then looks at Dale and smiles. He responds, "Do not worry young one. I would not send you after my son without assisting in your quest. Nor would I take advantage of you. This is a request that I make for myself and not the church. I do have a bit of influence, however. If you would like you may request something now, or you may want to wait until later. I have seen many years and you may worry for my health. My father lived to see his six hundred and forty-ninth year, however.
He turns to Darube and a small smile plays across his lips, "I thank you and your brother for any help you may give," he says.
He addresses Kaladorm and Drontar, "And I thank you also. I did not expect to have Dumathoin bless this quest with any twins, yet I am doubly blessed."
To Kaladorm he says, "My son is a Talhund of Dumathoin, and so stopped at the Keepers temples along his path. His journey took him to the north and west, and his last message was sent from a small village on the edge of civilized lands. As his father I cannot hold out any hope except that he still lives. If you are successful you may have access to much more knowledge than what I have here."
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 06 Jul 2004 : 01:27:24
Dumalair continues his story at a slow, silent pace. If not for his rolling stone-like voice it would be hard to hear him. “I have seen many sons… die …in six centuries of life. Orcs, giants, goblins, dragons… all have taken part in their deaths. Barmalair is my last. He set out to complete the… quest… begun by my father over a thousand years ago, the reclaiming of our legacy.”
The gnome re-enters the room from the alcove bearing a tray. He proceeds to offer Dumalair a mug from it, then, in turn, offers a drink to each of you. Then he leaves, this time through the door you entered through. On this side, however, there is a handle to pull the door open with.
Dumalair shifts again in his seat, and continues, “Biviltirin is a good lad. He lost his family when the demons attacked Blingdenstone.”
A coughing fit overcomes the High Talhund. Apologetically he continues, “The other Talhunds said I should leave the temple in the mines for better air! They said the Everfire… and the smithies… were becoming too much for my health. Apparently they do not come to the surface that often.”
“Now where was I,” he questioningly asks, “Oh, yes, our legacy. My father left our ancestral home nigh twelve centuries gone. The evil drow… crawled up from the hells that they call home with their minions and claimed our halls as their own. Much has happened since that time, and I discovered recently, about one hundred years agone, that other… survivors still thrive elsewhere.” As Dumalair delves deeper into his story his voice becomes clearer and more assured. “My son set out last year to find any of the survivors, to gather the clan if you will. I have not heard from him since. He sent word, both magically and physically, for the first two months. After that time, nothing. Fellow Talhunds of the Keeper are aware and looking for him, but his location remains a… secret. I now need help to find him. Last night, during the Deepstone Triad, and my birth night, I prayed to Dumathoin to reveal this one secret to me. As ever he remained silent except for revealing seven names, your names.” Dumalair suddenly jumps from his chair with a force beyond what he should be capable of. “I need you to find my son!” With this last pleading statement he collapses back into his chair. Biviltirin hurriedly enters the room from the entry and tends to Dumalair who is still conscious, but breathing heavy. After several minutes he waves the gnome off before continuing again. “Will you help me?” he pleads.
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| hammer of Moradin |
Posted - 05 Jul 2004 : 19:35:27
Beyond the doorway you see the flickering of firelight. You approach the door and enter the room. Immediately you notice an enormous fireplace, large enough to cook a cow over (or a rothe as the case may be). Then, in stark contrast to the entry, you notice the lavish adornments around this room. The room itself is ten feet wide, the same width as the entry, but twenty feet long, with the fireplace on the opposite wall. Ornate furniture is situated throughout the room. A grand wood-carved table is set before you, its legs forming hammers with the heads as the base. The chairs carved to form anvils, complete without backs. A soft, velvety couch sits to the side of the fireplace. Directly facing it is small table with stacks of papers and books piled on it. Four low benches surround the smaller table. Directly in front of the fireplace is a large throne-like chair with a high back. It appears to be metal, but from where you stand, and with the fireplace directly behind it, you cannot tell of what material it is made. The walls are adorned with ornate tapestry scenes. Most of the tapestries depict usual dwarven life, the crafting of fine weapons and jewels, great victories over giants and goblinoid armies, yet one scene is of a mountain, which would not be unusual except that it is shown from an ocean view and only depicts a single peak without any other raised earth surrounding it. Elaborate weapons line the walls between the tapestries. Finally the floors are of stone with several large rugs underlying the table and the couch areas.
The gnome stops before the table and heralds your arrival to a seemingly lifeless room. Then you realize that you may not be far from the truth. A figure shifts in the large metal chair before the fireplace. You shift your vision to see in the dark recess of the chair and can see the withered form facing you. At first the form looks as though it could be undead, yet the healthy hair and beard protruding from the head belays that impression. Then the form speaks, “Please come closer and sit, for I have much to tell with very little time.” The voice is like stone, ancient yet full of secrets. The Svirfneblin motions you ahead then walks through a small alcove at the back of the room in the wall to your right. You sit before the figure on the couch, or at the small table, surprised at the intense heat coming from the fireplace. Surprised also at how much closer the figure is, yet he seems to absorb the heat without even breaking a sweat.
You now realize that the figure is a dwarf, an ancient and wise looking figure, who wears a symbol of his god around his neck, the faceted gem inside a mountain. This mountain is different from most symbols of Dumathoin, however, as it resembles the same one that is in the tapestry on the wall. He wears the robes and ornamentations of a priest, yet he is dressed plain beyond the holy symbol around his neck.
“As I have said,” he says, “I have little time so let me say what I must and then you may question me.” He begins, “My story is for another time. My true name is of an ancient line. To the dwarves of Sundabar I am the High Talhund Dumalair of the clan Everwarden. I am five hundred and ninety-eight years old as of yesterday, the night of the Deepstone Triad. I need you to find my son.”
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