Gorthos opened his big mouth to protest, but Thraka waved a hand in the air and cut him off "Keep it." It seemed that he couldn't be bothered arguing, and was preoccupied with other thoughts. "Use it well. Against the lich or the four-armed beast that serves him.

Gorthos harrumphed, but wisely said no more.

"Lich?" Iodaem replied with a raised eyebrow.  He'd heard tales of liches before - and if what he'd heard was even close to reality, he wanted no part in trying to fight one. . .

Authiel shivered lightly at the mention of the lich and its creature with excess appendages.  While she held on to Iodaem, she tried to remember anything that could be applicable about liches in general and particular any one that might be here.

13:25, Today: Authiel Hannasiel rolled 13 using 1d20+10. Know: History.
13:25, Today: Authiel Hannasiel rolled 14 using 1d20+10. Know: Arcana.

Gurgun seems unperturbed by the talking behind his back. He tries to remember anything useful information gathered on liches (Knowledge: religion (8)) but can't really add to anything already said about them.
At the mention of the beast he seems to perk up: Beast? You mean it is living? Gurgun rather fight a foe that bleeds and feels pain than the silent dead. In the room where we destroy the shadow-that-walk there were corpses with white fur. What are they? he continues after a slight pause.

"Aye, lich..." Thraka paused, then decided to explain further. "A rotting elf mage leads the undead and raises more from the slain. We kill them, he un-kills them. The four-armed beast is like an ape, but it is walking dead."

Authiel couldn't think of much about liches, though she recalled that lich was an old word meaning 'corpse', now commonly applied to spell-used undead, particularly the more powerful varieties. Given the horrid tales about them, she could only hope to the Seldarine that the orcs had misidentified. Allessandra would know more, but this was not the time to ask.

She had a fair guess that the four-armed beast was a girallon, a magically created gorilla with four arms and four times the brutal savagery.

Thraka sighed, long and mournful, and spoke at last "Tolg Beer-Eye led us to this be-nighted realm, seeking elf magic. We were many and strong, and proud. Side by side, orcs and hobgoblins and taer snow-men - they have the white fur coats. We explored these glass towers, all empty and all silent."

"Then... then skeletons, everywhere, elf-bones with their bows and their arrows, burning skulls, the four-armed one... and the lich, blasting magic and raising our dead. The priest-orc died right at the start."

"We ran back to the circle-of-stone, but it would not take us back. Tolg says there is a key. The lich must have it. We fought our way here and made camp, but we are besieged. We have no priest to banish the undead, we can not fight our way out, nor get to the lich."

Thraka lifted an unsteady hand and pointed at the new-comers. "If you have a priest, and desire to see your homes again - then you must get that key! ...Tolg showed me how to use it, I can show you. Bring it back here. Please."

The half-orc slumped back down in his seat, seemingly tired. A sweat had broken out on his face, perhaps from the stress and exhaustion. He seemed anxious, nervous, and afraid. It sounded like he had good reason to be.

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: Gurgun had been paying greater attention to the hobgoblins than the others. They shuffled their feet, and glanced regularly between him, Thraka and each other. Thraka also glanced around the room often, probably a sign of stress and fear.

His eyes often slid to the northwest door held ajar by a crate and showing a crack of gloom. Gurgun risked a sideways peek at it. Some dark and spindly shape twitched in the darkness.]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:36, Wed 03 Sept 2008.

Who is Tolg Beer-Eye, and where is he now? Did you lose him to the Lich? Gurgun presses on the questions, afraid there might not be many more opportunities to gather the information needed to escape from this place.
Adding in a more conciliatory tone he then looks around at the assembled warriors, Gurgun has some skill with tending wounds and illness. Show your wounded and bring the healing supplies you have. he declares rather loudly. Gurgun hopes to be able to gain some trust from the warriors and to figure out what the half-orc has not yet told them. He tries to avoid fixing his gaze on the darkness beyond the half-open door.

OOC: Do they have any healing kits?

"Tolg is dead!" Thraka blurted, then explained "Yes, the lich slew him. Tolg was a powerful star-worm."

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: Gurgun caught some suspicious glances shared between the other orcs and hobgoblins.]

Thraka seized on Gurgun's offer, grateful for it and the change of topic. "Thank you, we will be grateful for your help. Help who you may. We have some healing things." Judging by the bloodstained rags tied around wounds, these weren't the best, but they'd do. "Talk to taer wise-woman Grrunk if you find her. She is taking care of healing."

Thraka waved around the room. "Take a room or corner to camp. See quartermaster Thrugdish for supplies."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:45, Wed 03 Sept 2008.

Gurgun nods before addressing his companions: You better decide where to camp. Gurgun will follow. Will anyone assist Gurgun with tending to the wounded?
Secretly he keeps his attention peeled to Thraka and the assembled warriors, trying to figure out what the underlying unrest is about.

12:39, Today: Gurgun Nightwhisper rolled 25 using 1d20+7. Sense motive.

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: Gurgun detected a jumble of feelings: suspicion, mistrust, frustration, and most of, fear. Something had happened to Tolg, but not what Thraka had said. And now no one liked or trusted him as leader, but they feared something too much.]

A quick look around showed that there were a few spare patches of glass floor where they could pitch camp, albeit alongside the orcs and hobgoblins. There was no space for privacy. For that, they would need to occupy one of the empty rooms or storerooms, perhaps one that they'd already cleared out, though that could be unsafe if it left them close to the enemy forces.

"If the walking dead come, you will join us." Thraka stated bluntly. "May old One-Eye watch over us." Then Thraka got up from his upturned-barrel throne, and disappeared into his curtained-off room. An orc warrior stood guard against interruptions.

Allessandra dispensed some healing to her party members, then healed a badly wounded orc of his injuries. He smiled a toothy grin, so she asked him where Grrunk was. "Gone looking. Down in tower." The orc pointed at the ground, then wandered off. Allessandra wisely chose to save her last drops of healing energy in case they were attacked during the night.

The other orcs and hobgoblins chose to give the strangers a wide-berth. The adventurers found a narrow corner that they could camp in, and with hushed voices they would have privacy. There was something going on here, Gurgun was certain...


OOC:
CLW: Gurgun, Iodaem and Authiel healed to full hitpoints.

Gurgun follows Allesandra around the camp, trying to help out best he can (21:03, Today: Gurgun Nightwhisper rolled 16 using 1d20+6. Heal).
As the companions settle in for the night, Gurgun tries to relate his impressions to his companions.
Thraka not tell truth about death of Tolg. Other orcs and goblins don't like him, but something about him makes them afraid. There is something in the room behind where he sit, Gurgun feels presence in the dark. Maybe Taer wise woman know more.

Iodaem didn't speak, he simply sat back, resting against a wall with one arm around Authiel, holding her close to him.  He still felt weak, as if the encounter with the shades had drained him of his strength, of his very life-force, and he couldn't help but doubt that he would be able to help the others much more now.  The best he could do was to shield Authiel of any harm, stand in the way of any attacks directed at her.  And so lost was he in his thoughts of weakness, that he did not pay attention to what Gurgun was saying.

"What a surprise, we can't trust orcs and hobgoblins, what is the world coming to?" Jorn commented drily, then added for Gurgun's benefit with a grin "No offense. He went on to say "He said this Tolg was a 'star-worm' - whatever that is, it doesn't sound sound good. Good thing that it's dead, though that means that this lich is worse."

"Liches are powerful evil mages, only made stronger in undeath." Allessandra mentioned. "But there are many kinds of spell-using undead, some less powerful, some more. I can only hope it is one less powerful than a true lich. These flaming skulls may also be quite dangerous."

"I think they want us to take care of this so-called lich for them and get the portal key. But if it's the only way out of this place, it looks like we'll have to anyway. Better if we get that key first." Jorn explained. "But something strange is going on here. I don't like having these orcs and hobgobs - no offense - at our backs, especially if this something in the darkness is pulling their strings."

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: Thinking back, Gurgun had noticed that the half-orc Thraka had been acting and speaking very strangely. Slow or absent reactions, erratic personality, and a lot of fear. At first, it was easy to think of it as stress and nerves due to their situation.

But now Gurgun was reminded by Jorn's words - Thraka had been like a puppet or marionette, only occasionally free to act, but with someone or something else manipulating him somehow.

OOC: Some information due to Sense Motive checks I forgot to add earlier, or made too subtle. :)]

Gurgun seem not to take much notice of Jorn's reference to the orcs and goblins. Something Jorn says does stir something in him though.
Strings, yes. Thraka behaves like on strings. Perhaps the one pulling them is in that room. Thraka kept looking there. We would be safer if orcs leader is free, easier to predict motivation and actions. Now we are in the dark, who knows what lurker is up to? Can we sneak inside room, unseen?

Slove has been very quite.  The Ranger has been watching his every move.  It clear he not happy with being with orc but he know that they must do so to clear this place out.
He also seems to be weighing something up in his mind.
"If we are facing an Elven Lich then something not all it seems.  In this land of no sun and group of orc with no cleric.  Even with cleric they have problems.  There has to be something from keeping the creature from making all these orc it personal play things."

You speak wisely Elf. The orcs might be mistaken about the true nature of the undead ruler, or there could be opposing forces, using orcs and dead-that-walk as pawns. We rest now, regain our strength, then Gurgun will explore store room. Slove can stand watch.

OOC: Ok, lets get going here. I assume we can rest and regain strength. Gurgun will explore the store room as soon as Alessandra has healed him, assuming the others stand watch close to the door (if no-one is interested in joining the exploration)

Agreeing to Gurgun's suggestion, the others made camp in their corner and tried to get some shut-eye. But sleep was difficult, for the faerie fire that flickered in the ceiling corners stayed on all night long, endlessly distracting the eyes. Of course, the elves who'd built the glass towers only required a nightly Reverie of a few hours, they did not need the darkness to sleep. Authiel and Slove were the only ones who were unaffected.

The adventurers noted the example of orcs and hobgoblins who buried their heads beneath blankets and clothes or tied cloth bandages around their eyes. Even still, the creatures grumbled and complained, and turned restless throughout the night.

If it even was a night. With the perpetual twilight outside and the everburning light inside, there was no way to keep track of time.

And just to make matters worse, after a few hours of fitful slumber, whistles were blown and pots banged. Orcs and hobgoblins dashed about, shouting. The camp was under attack!

Getting up, the adventurers rushed to the defense, across the bridge to the other tower. But by the time they'd arrived, the battle had been resolved. Orcs were pushing the corpses and broken bones into the churning sea below the bridge. It had broadly been a success, though a few injuries had been sustained. Allessandra healed the orcs, who were very grateful. And they went back to chase elusive sleep for the rest of the twilit night.

Orc & Hobgoblin Tower, The Night Realm
Morning, Day 2?

The next "day" they woke from fitful slumber, bleary-eyed and more tired than they'd been before they'd gone to sleep.

Breakfast was available from the quartermaster Thrugdish, though it was old vegetables and hardtack and dried meats of questionable origin, washed down with water or a foul orcish grog. Those who'd brought their own rations felt it wiser to eat those instead.

Allessandra tried to pray to Lathander for the power to heal Gurgun and Iodaem of their shadow-drained strength, but she found it difficult to make a connection. In this twilight realm, there was no sun, no sunrise, and she couldn't even be sure of the time back in the material world. She laid her hands upon the two of them and tried her hardest to heal them, but little could be done. The young priestess was deeply apologetic.


OOC: Ability damage healing as follows: 1 point for a night's sleep, 1 point for Gurgun and 3 and 1 for Iodaem from lesser restoration:
Iodaem: Strength damage 1/6
Gurgun: Strength damage 1/3
So 1 point of Str damage each. There were very low rolls. :(

Deduct a day's worth of rations if you don't want to eat orcish stuff. No harm done if do eat it though.

There's no fatigue or exhaustion penalty, just RP it. Iodaem and Gurgun can have their virtual fatigue cured by the restoration spell if they choose.

Feeling his strength slowly return, Gurgun is grateful for the assistance given by the priestess. Going through his morning routine the hobgoblin adjusts for his loss of strength, making his movements slightly more fluid and quick to try and compensate for his weakened state. Once satisfied he picks up his staff and what little gear he carries and declares: Gurgun ready to go in. Stay close and watch, or help Gurgun inside.
With that he heads straight for the door, pauses slightly right before entering, straining his hearing to try and pick up any sounds of movement on the inside.

09:58, Today: Gurgun Nightwhisper rolled 8 using 1d20+5. Listen.

Slove gets himself ready.
"Remember stay close as we still not sure who if friend or foe in this place."
Unlike anybody else in the group Slove seems at home here and deep down he like stay if he could just clean the place up.

As Gurgun approached the storeroom, two hobgoblins saw him and approached, one on either side. One was a spear-wielder, the other carried a mace and scimitar. The latter asked in Goblin-tongue "Where do you think you're going, mate?", a sneer across his orange-skinned face.


OOC: Gurgun hears nothing special. I assume you were heading for the storeroom, at area 29?
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:57, Sat 20 Sept 2008.

OOC: yes

I'm taking a look inside. I won't take anything. Gurgun replies, his demeanor completely calm and relaxed.

"Oh, yeah? And what are you looking for? To fetch food for your human masters?" the hobgoblin spat.

The other snorted. "Yeah, like a crukking dog!"

Coming from you two that's quite funny: doing the dirty work for a half-brute. As I said, I just want to take a look. I thought I heard something move in there before, and want to make sure there are no one spying on us. With the attack last night being faught off, we don't want the dead that walk to come charging through do we?
Gurgun still is perfectly calm.

The hobgoblin nodded. "Thanks for letting us know. How about we check it out, and you go back to waiting on the humans? Fighting the walking dead is a job for real men, not a servant with an old man's walking stick." he said with contempt, nodding at Gurgun's staff.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:14, Mon 22 Sept 2008.

What clan are you from? Hollow head? Gurgun destroyed two Shadows-that-walk with bare hands. I want to fight the dead elfs, not you. Now step aside and let me pass, go complain to Thraka, your master, if you want to.
Gurgun takes a step forward, still holding his hands to his side and his voice perfectly calm.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:30, Mon 22 Sept 2008.