"Was bein' du operative word der, heh heh heh," Balrok chuckles as he finishes cleaning his axe.  "Now, 'less I missed somethin', we're goin' down the stairs."  Balrok prefers not to leave any stone unturned that could result in an enemy at his back, but assuming no one pipes up about any more hidden nooks or crannies, or any other reason to delay, Balrok will tromp over to the stairs down to the next level.

Balrok will head towards the staircase at 48 going down to 49, checking for traps as normal.

OOC: Sorry for the delay, had written a post but must have forgotten to press "Post message".

Gurgun grows tired of fighting the underlings! Gurgun growls as they make their way to the stairs, kicking at the destroyed flying heads for good measure.
As they reach the stairs, the hobgoblin moves silently and swiftly ahead of the group, to scout out the opposition.

OOC: 50' speed, move silently 18

OOC: Since Gurgun went ahead with stealth, I'll assume he goes down the stairs first, followed by Balrok, with the others following.
19:54, Today: DM BadCatMan, on behalf of Balrok, rolled -3 using 1d20-4. move silent - That was a 1. :p


Stepping softly, Gurgun made his careful way down the spiraling stairs, with Balrok close behind, meticulously searching for traps. He might have made it down with out disturbance, except Balrok tripped on a step and all chainmail armour and many weapons clinked and clanked and banged as he collided with the wall.

"Kyjal. How goes the war?" came a voice, barely above a whisper, dry as dust and curiously stiff and emotionless.

The lowest level was in darkness, but Gurgun's night-sight pierced it as he rounded the stairs. Before him stretched a short corridor, ending in a larger, domed round room. The walls were lined with yet more of the niches used to store the bones and mummified organs.

At the far end, just beyond the limits of his vision, he glimpsed a large shape of strange and awful outlines - no doubt the source of the mysterious whisperer in the darkness.


OOC: You're in Areas 48 and 49 of the Lower Level of the last map in the map thread.

Gurgun halts the others with an outstretched hand and signs them to stay silent, before quietly retreating out of sight.

Then he waits.

Slove as usual follow carefull at back.

Balrok opens his mouth to yell back, "It's comin' tu yer doorstep!", but stops, grumbling under his breath, when he sees Gargun's outstretched hand.  Instead he stands impatiently behind the monk, trying hard not to tap his foot or make any more noise than is inevitable for a clumsy, fully-armed dwarf in heavy chain mail.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:40, Mon 16 Aug 2010.

OOC: LOL! Patience....

"Oh? Is that a dwarf I hear?" the voice responded, but if it was surprised it was hard to tell. "And you have allied yourself with the vile orcs and hobgoblins? That is unusual. After all, they are thugs and mercenaries who wish only to disturb my peace and steal my belongings, and I am sure that you are an honourable dwarf. Perhaps you should reconsider the quality of your friends before you count me your foe? I am sure that they have plenty of treasure hidden away..."

[Private to Balrok: Make a Will save DC 19 (+2 from racial bonus vs spells) or find this a very reasonable suggestion. ;) ]

Gurgun is a child of the passive voice, not a thug. Gurgun was transported here and wants to find a way out, not fight mindless undead. Gurgun has destroyed all your lieutenants, and is coming for you now. It is time to end your reign of death Mourel, and restore peace and serenity to this Plane. As for treasures Gurgun cares not of material wealth, and have found this plane to be close to empty of anything material except for your cursed dead-that-walk! So, will you return to the land of the dead? I'll make sure the mercenaries leave and will work to restore the library to its former glory and clean the place of unholyness. Perhaps one day the elves will want to return?

Gurgun says, while loading a magic stone in his sling.

23

Balrok feels the pull on his mind but resists it with little problem.  "Damn lich can hear what I'm thinkin' uh sayin'," he grumbles aloud.  Raising his voice, he addresses the undead:  "Balrok don't abandon them he's agreed tu help--even if dey are orcs an' hobgoblins, which I gotta agree ain't much fun tu work with.  Not only are dey ugly, but der menfolk can't drink, der womenfolk don't have beards, and dey stink up du mines somethin' aweful -- plus dat whole 'we're constantly at war with dem' thing, but I can't complain 'bout dat as much -- I think it's actually by mutual agreement so we both have somethin' tu kill, heh heh heh."  The dwarf pauses, having lost the thread of the conversation, then remembers.  "Oh right!  Yeah, not betrayin' me 'friends'.  I think I'll smash ye instead.  If ya wanna lay still, I'll make sure it's quick like!"

"And you, Gurgun Who Refers To Himself In The Third Person, are a hobgoblin, I take it?" Mourel switched topics effortlessly. "And you wish the restoration of my library. So do I. Sadly it was looted by enemies long ago. But the knowledge remains, in my brain. Perhaps you would care to sit with me, and listen and learn? You could be my scribe, and help me write a new library to rescue this ancient knowledge of mine."


[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: Make a Will save DC 19 or find this a very reasonable suggestion. ;) ]

Gurgun is taken aback slightly, lowering his guard and relaxing his broad shoulders. Oghma would approve. he replies.

OOC: Will save failed miserably ;-)

OOC: having read what suggestion does let me continue...

Thinking through the proposal from Mourel Gurgun continues. Gurgun needs to help Thraka and his war band leave this plane first, and Gurgun's friends also want to leave. Then Gurgun can scribe. Mourel tell us how to activate the portal.

"Or," Balrok says, helpfully trying to offer the monk a more dwarvenly palatable alternative, "we culd hack off his head an' see if all du library knowledge is in one of dose little gems we've been findin', eh?  Den we'd getta kill 'em and ye'd get tu write yer 'Ode Tu Dead Elves' -- win-win."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:27, Fri 20 Aug 2010.

"Yes, of course. I understand. But the portal will be too complicated for you to operate. I would do it, but I will require safe passage to the control centre. Bring this Thraka to me to negotiate peace. Alone, of course."

"Do not listen to the dwarf." the voice insisted. "I do not possess such a gem."


OOC: Obviously, roll Sense Motive. ;)

[Private to GM: Bluff 20]

Balrok snorts.  "He's lyin'.  If I know one thing its treasure, an' no self-respectin' leader's gunna let his minions hang on to those gems when he don't got one himself."

Of course, Balrok has no real internal lie-detect-o-meter....

18:06, Today: Balrok rolled 7 using 1d20. Sense Motive.

Sense motive: 24

Jorn thought for a moment, considering what he heard.

"Even a blind goblin can see this be a trap," whispered the dwarf, "still, there's nothing that say we can't turn it on'im. Personall' I'm fer luring him out of that lair of his. Who knows what other nasties he has lurking inside."

The dwarf shuffled carefully over to Gurgun, keeping his voice low;

"Tell'im we'll bring Thraka to negotiate peace- at the portal chamber itself. And that if Thraka comes alone, so should he. I'm not going to walk into the same room as a crazy necromancer and his half-giant orge skeletons escorts."

Gurgun stays silent for a few heartbeats. Jorn speaks wisely. If Mourel can operate gate, then we negotiate peace at the gate. Gurgun wants to send orcs and hobgoblins home, then draw from the knowledge of Mourel and rebuild library.

OOC: Are you speaking aloud or still whispering?

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: The speaker seemed entirely reasonable and trustworthy. ;) And he seemed to be telling the truth about the gem. Though he does seem to have an ulterior motive.]

Gurgun speaks normally (not whispering).

The hulking shape at the far end of the room shuffled in place. "Impossible! It could be a trap. I do not trust these lesser beings." the whispered retorted. "If Jorn is wise, then he should go and fetch Thraka. At the very least, relay my words and see if he is receptive to peace." he said, quite reasonably. "Others of you may go with him, while Gurgun may sit by my side and learn of ancient lore."

[Private to Jorn Brightcaller: Make a Will save DC 18 or find this a very reasonable suggestion. ;) ]

[Private to Gurgun Nightwhisper: I'm calling in that suggestion now. ;) I guess my wording of it last time wasn't very specific.]

"The lich has a point," admitted Jorn, his tone grudging, "I can go back and fetch Thraka, see what he thinks. The rest of you could stay'ere and keep an eye on the lich."

His eyes sift towards the door, then away as his voice drops again to a whisper;

"'Sides, should Thraka not want peace, I could still bring'im here- with half-a-dozen soldiers in tow."

02:02, Today: Jorn Brightcaller rolled 14 using 1d20+4. Will save.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Fri 03 Sept 2010.

Balrok shakes his head firmly.  "We ain't splittin' up; dat's what he wants.  I say we go in an' bashem now!  If we ain't, though, we're all goin' wherever we're goin' tugether, or this nasty'll wait tell we're split then jump us."

Do what you must. Let Gurgun first learn from his wisdom.

The hobgoblin puts away his sling and produces his book and quill, and steps into the hall to face Mourel.

Gurgun is hear to learn now, dead-elf.