Gathering up what you will from the vault and distributing the heavy sacks of coin between you, you take your leave of Habmor'Anto ...

Night has fallen and the mists slowly clear as you make your way north. Though the moon above is dimmed, as it has been since you broke the Orb and freed the Great Serpent from Rhiannon's clutches, it is close to full and provides sufficent light to allow you to put at least some distance between yourselves and the prison.

Despite your depredations, almost all of you are in surprisingly good health - save Brugar who yet bears the wounds inflicted upon him by the spider-demon, not that the Dwarf utters a word of complaint or lets his hurts slow his pace, but it is clear that you must rest soon.

Laden as you are and with the terrain you must travel, you realise that it will take three days to reach Faugond with no guarantee that the flying mountain atop which Ayas saw the tower will be waiting there for you.  Worse, Dark Elves patrol these hills ... and the blood-curse that Hamin now bears will manifest itself in two nights time, if Vaden Kiang is to be believed.

Yet you have your freedom and perhaps a chance to strike another blow against the Dark Gods that rule these lands ...

Brugar stops and stares at Ayas when he says that.

"Rocky Gap? Nay, can't be! Surely not. Not again. Be it known as it were a dwarven gold mine, long ago? If'n it be the same place in truth, that were me 'ome, in another Age. We been there once already, but that were in another Age too. None of me kin were still livin' there, then. Naught but ghosts. Naught but ghosts," he finishes sadly.

Ayas searches his memories.

"Rocky Gap.. yes, that is what it was once named, so Ilthuryn said. An old mine where dwarves once dwelled. And where the Walkers slept, though Sully and I found only a broken stone seal and shadows and dust. No ghosts, or at least none that were roused by our presence."

The elf stumbles in the near darkness, cursing softly.

"I thought I'd never say it, but I find myself missing the slop they served in Habmor’Anto," he muses. "I hope the cellars of the tower that sits upon the flying mountain are well-stocked."

Hamin looks across at Brugar sympathetically, as he remembers how these lands have changed at the hands of the Dark Gods.  "We bring the light to them slowly ..." he says cryptically.

Then turning to Ayas, he grins "Oh, I am sure they will have plenty of suppliers there.  Although we may have to persuade them to share ...."

Brugar nods slowly.

"Aye, were us as broke that seal. Ah pray it be true that my people's spirits be free now."

He sighs and lapses into silence for a while but soon enough his mood brightens again.

"If'n ye like the slop they fed ye in prison, Ah reckon as Ah can 'elp ye there."

He rummages in his backpack and pulls out an iron spoon and a stone bowl.

"This be a magic bowl, ye see? Stick a spoon in it an' it fills with right tasty gruel - enough to feed four of us well each an' every day. Not quite enough for all six of us but we'll not starve even if'n we can't find ought else to eat along the way."

He hands the bowl and spoon to Ayas with a grin.

Yetta stops briefly, first looking at Brugar, eyes wide, and then quickly looking away as the impact of his loss settles in.  She'd realized when she first saw him that she hadn't seen or heard of any other dwarves here, but... they hadn't really been part of her life before, either.  She can't imagine what it would have been like, coming out to a world where all the other Humans were gone.

The change of topic to food, even bad food, is a welcome one.  She wipes a sleeve quickly over her eyes and then turns back, holding up a hand.  "I'll only need it for a little while," she notes, wiggling a finger with a simple copper ring on it.  "This thing takes... I think he said a week, before it starts working, but once it does, I don't need food, or very much sleep.  And I don't need to drink, but I still can, you know, if there's something worth drinking."  She grins.  "It's nice.  Probably the biggest down side is that nobody who's taking it away is ever serving anything you'd care to eat."

"Never been sure if I need to eat or not," the elf shrugs. "The lack won't kill me though." She pats Yetta's shoulder comfortingly, noticing her distress.

"Besides, the dwarf lost me at 'gruel'!" Alasha'an grins at the young woman.

"So, three days to Rocky Gully," she deliberately uses the old name, not liking the taste on her tongue of the ones the dark elves now ascribe to the places she knew long ago. "But Hamin's going to be getting a bit beastly before then." She grimaces as the words pass her lips, realising that this is hardly going to cheer the old man's daughter at all.

"We need to deal with that, get to the old mine, and find a way to catch ourselves a flying mountain."

"I wonder if it's too late to get my old cell back.." Ayas jests, though he regards the Dwarf almost reverently after his story, and gladly if not eagerly accepts his offer of a spoon of the gruel, intrigued by the magics of the bowl, if not by the taste of the fare it produces.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks his companions.  "Find somewhere to hole up, strip me and bind me and hope?  If I am not in armour and I am unarmed, Brugar should be able to knock me senseless, especially if you trip me up first." he says looking at Alasha'an.  "And Brugar has that rope ....  "

After a moment he adds, "Unless someone has a better idea ..."

Yetta's grin fades quickly.  "I've got some manacles, too," she notes, looking away.  "They're not great, but they're metal."  She shrugs.  "I don't know if they'd hold better than Brugar's rope, but they might help."

"Aren't I supposed to eat a load of garlic, or something first ...."  Hamin asks with a shrug.

"Lots of rope," Alasha'an asserts. "And the manacles. Tie his shoelaces together too!"

"I'm a lot better at killing than unconscious, but I'll hold you while Brugar hits you." She grins at Hamin. "Don't suppose either of you can magically charm him?" the elf asks Ayas and Yetta hopefully.

"Be good if we can catch wild game, assuming there's any left now. He's probably going to want meat.."

"So that's one of three. Brugar can find the mine which is two."

"Got my boots back, so if we find the flying mountain I can get up there if we time it right, but I can't carry everyone. Rope again? If we get to a high point and it's not too far over us, I can take the Dwarf up and then we can pull everyone else up, but that's a bit dicey. Wonder how they get their supplies up to it?"

Hamin trusts that Alasha'an, Brugar and Yetta will do their best for him, and will do their best protect him from any harm that might come his way - as well as protecting  anyone that he might try to harm.

As such he will resign himself to what ever suggestions the three come up with.

"Ah got no better suggestion than keep walkin' an' see what we can find along the way. Find somewhere to 'ole up on second night where we can tie ye up an' keep everyone safe 'til the moon sets again. Ah 'eard summat once about it bein' the light of the full moon what triggers the change, but Ah guess we'll all be findin' out a few more of the details afore this is done."

"Three days," Varl ventures. "One day either side of the full moon."

"That special cell they had Vaden Kiang in ... you too," he nods to Alasha'an, "they prevented the change, but even so, you could tell that the beast wanted out."

"I'd say we get away from here, then once it starts we go to ground and wait it out.  We don't want him changing on us while we're," he pauses taking a deep breath, "trying to catch a flying mountain !"

"Sorry," he apologises to Hamin.

Just for a moment Hamin  looks blank as Varl's apologizes, then realizes the  man is apologizing for  mentioning his issue.  The old warrior nods then tries to make the man feel more comfortable with one of his few forays into humour ...

"The only thing wrong with that statement, is that we won't be trying to catch a mountain.  We WILL be catching it ...  "

Which explains why Hamin doesn't try to be humorous very often ...

"Wander about and trust to luck.." the elf shakes her head as she provides a less optimistic view of Brugar's suggestion, though the sigh that follows indicates her bowing to the inevitable.

"Why not? It's worked for us thus far!"

The gruel that Brugar's magic spoon provides is tasteless but surprisingly filling, moreso than the fare that was your lot in Habmor'Anto, and at least this night there is enough to go around.

You get what sleep you can in the chill too-short hours before the false dawn of this Dark Age, your rest uninterrupted, to break your fast on more of the same gruel, before you begin your journey, judging direction as best you can.

With the mists gathered about you once more you set off across the hilly terrain.  Though there seem to be no landmarks worth the telling, these are the stones upon which Brugar trod in his youth, and the Dwarf knows them in his bones.  Once he has his bearings he guides you true, though none are pleased to see what has become of the Dwarven River (the Saura'sira as Ayas knows it, the Foul Flow), now turgid and rank.  The hills give way to blasted plains where stand the twisted remnants of the forest that once was.

It is here that you settle for your second night, more than one eye turning to Hamin in concern as the moon above grows ever fuller, but the change is not yet upon him and again you your sleep is not disturbed.

The next day you enter the mountains proper, they that were once so simply known as the Dwarven Mountains in honour of those who lived and toiled there, now Orodedanai which Ayas reluctantly translates for you as the Mountain of the Small Men.  And now the going is harder, the ground steeper and rockier, though Brugar does his best to pick a path through it.

With still an hour or two of the poor light from the mist-hidden sun remaining, you chance upon a cleft in the stone where part of the rockface has collapsed, recent enough that no animal has yet laid claim to it, and here you decide to make your camp and what preparations you can for the trials of the night to come.

After they have made camp Brugar pulls out two coils of rope from his backpack - the enchanted Rope of Climbing and a length of ordinary hemp rope. He shrugs apologetically to Hamin.

"Sorry, Longshanks. Gotta be done," he mutters.

Looking around at the others he asks, "Who be best at knots? Ain't me, that be sure an' certain."

"Yep." Hamin responds stoically, as he submits himself to the ministrations of his colleagues.  Then a thought strikes him, "Should I take my armour off?  What about my other gear ....."

"Yes," Yetta says, firmly, as she pulls her manacles out, trying to ignore the sound of the metal.  "Definitely."

She looks at the shackles in her hand and then at her father, and tries for a half smile.  "I thought this was supposed to be every little girls' dream.  `Dad, you're grounded'."  She sighs a little.  Maybe humor is genetic.

With a thin smile at his daughter, Hamin strips himself down to his loin cloth.

"I am good with knots," the elf modestly avows, with a quirk of her lips at the Dwarf, "though I think we can spare you a blanket for warmth," she tells Hamin, turning her smile on him. "Don't want you freezing to death and all my efforts going to waste!"

"I don't need a lot of sleep, not that we're likely to get much with.." Alasha'an breaks off with a shrug. "Give me four hours and I'll take it from there."

"You don't need to see this," she tells Yetta with unlikely gentleness, holding her hands out for the manacles. "This is most certainly not what little girls dream of."

She snorts. "I just wanted an interesting life. Guess that's what I got!"

With a small nod, Yetta hands the manacles to Alasha'an.  She gives Hamin a forced smile.  "See you in the morning," she says, and walks out of the cleft, moving to the side and out of view.

Brugar stays to watch Alasha'an's handiwork.

"Yeah, there is s'posed to be some 'erb or summat wot'll cure ye, if'n it don't kill ye, ain't there? Don't remember wot it were, though, an' don't know if'n we got any anyway."

He shrugs apologetically.

"Ah got antitoxin, me cloak o' resistance, ring o' protectin' an' me amulet o' 'ealth. Dunno if'n any of 'em would 'elp ye, Longshanks, but ye're welcome to borrow 'em tonight if it might 'elp in any way," he offers.

"I don't know." Hamin responds with a grimace.  "I suppose they can't do any harm, and perhaps I should keep my lucky stones as well?  The sentinel said there was a chance of controlling it, if the will was strong ..."

When the time comes Hamin will lay quietly, eyes closed, mentally rehearsing, over and over again, all the drills that he was taught as a young soldier.  He might not have always done the things the drills were supposed to teach him -  but he knew them intimately.

Though it is not something that you usually wish for, this evening it seems to take forever and an Age for night to fall ... but at long last fall it does.

With his lucky stone in his pocket and Brugar's cloak around his shoulders, and a thick blanket besides, it finds Hamin trussed and tied, bound in chains and with the Dwarf's magic rope binding his ankle to a heavy rock.

Varl accompanies Yetta, with a nod to Hamin that he'll look out for her, but still keeps a respectful distance from the young woman, unwilling to intrude too close during what will come.

The other three of you stand watch, all plans to sleep in shifts now abandoned ...

Perhaps before you saw the old Abbot change from man to beast you might have yet held out some hope that the one-eyed warrior might somehow not be tainted with the curse, but still when it comes as the pale moons light, but a single turn away from full, touches the Urthe with cold uncaring fingers, it is shocking.

Not the physical change, as unwilling flesh is painfully twisted and molded into another form, nor the cries of agony that accompany it ... no, it is the aftermath that is most terrible, when you look into the eyes of the man you know and love and see nothing within but the beast, the animal that longs to rip and tear.  That wants blood.

Your blood.

The creature that was Hamin strains and tears at his bonds, and they prove no match for his teeth and preternatural strength, but the iron manacles are another matter, and no matter how hard he tries, they do not yield, nor does the rope around his ankle.  Though try he does, howling all the while, the whole night long.

Till the moon mercifully dips below the horizon and you are afforded a few hours as he quietens then slowly returns to himself.

"That were innerestin'," Brugar comments as he orders the enchanted rope to unknot as the sun rises. "Rest a few hours while ye can. Ah'll go forage around a bit to see what Ah can find to eat. There be gruel in me bowl for any as want it."

He will leave the campsite soon after and see what his survival skills can turn up.

OOC: Brugar Armbuster rolled 24 using 1d20+13.  Survival skill check - foraging.

"Sorry ..." Hamin groans in response to Brugar's comment.  "Worse than Slayer ..." he adds in a croaky voice.

The old fighter is clearly drained from the previous night's battle against the moon's influence on his body.  His skin appears grey, and he is lethargic, except for his single eye, which flicks from side to side as if he is waiting for something.

"Innerestin'!" Alasha'an shakes her head as she apes the Dwarf's words and accent, watching him as he heads off to the hunt.

"Not the word I'd choose," she mutters with a wry grimace, holding up a ring, the twin of which sits on Hamin's finger. "Just got the first few seconds," she assures him. "More than enough to remind me that I had this on, and that 'listening in' would do no damn good for either of us."

She slips the ring back onto her own hand.

"We're going to have to wait it out here," she tells Hamin. "That flying mountain can wait till we're good and ready for it."

Brugar is gone a few hours, but when he returns, he has in his hands a brace of some small vaguely rat-like creatures, sufficient to give you all a couple of good meals should you dare a fire to cook them.

Having partaken of the gruel and with water to ease his parched throat, Hamin is somewhat recovered from his long ordeal though still tired.

"Seeing you like that.. and after what the old abbot did to the sentinels," Ayas is unable to conceal his horror at what Hamin now suffers, "I don't know how they were able to stop him in the first place.  They must have done as we have done and bound him before the change was upon him."

"For all my gifts, I have nothing that can help you," the elf apologises.

Brugar tugs at his beard, though it looks as much a sign of vexation as deep thought.

"That Sentinel, Vaden Kiang, when 'e warned ye of the change 'e spoke of the pull of the moon. That be meanin' the full moon, don't it? So if last night were the full o' the moon, be ye safe from the change for another month, or might ye change again soon as the moon rises tonight. Do any of ye 'ave any knowin' of that kind of thing?

"This spot be no better'n any other to 'ole up for the night. Ah reckon we oughta walk on for a few 'ours at least. Stop when ye be too tired to go no further or if'n we find a better spot to 'ole up in tonight," he suggested. "Ah reckon as we'll 'ave to bind ye again tonight, longshanks, at least until we see if'n ye gonna change again or not."

Yetta comes in somewhat tentatively, but rushes to de-manacle Hamin and wrap her arms around him as soon as it's clear that he is himself again.  She sits with him while he eats, and shares a bit of the gruel, though she's interested to see what Brugar brings back.

She nods her agreement with a sigh.  "I don't know, but it seems the worst that happens if we chain you and you don't change is that we unchain you after a bit.  If we don't chain you and you do..." she shudders.  "Not worth the risk until we know more about how this works.  Are we sure the mountain is still our priority?  I know it's important, but shouldn't we be finding a cure first?  Maybe the Daughters, or... somebody?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Tue 06 Aug 2019.

"There are another two nights of this," Hamin says wearily, "That is what Kiang said."  However, any further response is delayed as his daughter grabs him in a deep embrace.  However, his eventual response is emphatic.

"You will chain me for the next two nights, regardless - and perhaps even the nigh after to be safe.  I remember last night's rage.  The hunger, the need to feed.  On you, my friends and family.  We must not allow that to happen.

But once these two days are over, we must continue onward to the floating mountain.  If we take more than three weeks there, then we have to go through it all again ... 

"Hopefully they'll be able to scare up a priest in Iskbridge.. in Talhamnoduin," the elf corrects herself, scowling. "But better we catch the floating mountain first - they're going to find out sooner or later that we're no longer in that prison where they left us."

"And if it takes us longer than three weeks, I'm going to want to bite someone!"

"If there's no priest to be found, then we can try the Daughters. Though I'd as soon not - or we'll have to explain we lost both Lieseya and Saffaris's staff!"

"I'm not eating that either," she tells the Dwarf, looking at the rodent-like things he's caught.

"If it takes longer than three weeks, I might well bite someone ..." Hamin responds dryly.

"It was funnier when she said it," Yetta observes, with a small sigh of defeat.  She nods.  "Alright.  How long can it take to run down a flying mountain and defeat another God, right?" she says, with a somewhat bleak smile.

Brugar takes off his helmet and scratches his bald head.

"So we be stayin' 'ere another two days an' nights afore we go lookin' for that there flyin' mountain, right?" he asks uncertainly.

"That is probably best.  At least we know what we have here, who knows what we will find further down the road?"

"Dibs on the suite with the canopied bed," Yetta asserts.

"Two days it is, then. Any suggestions to pass the time? Perhaps we can catch something to eat that's more palatable than those.." the elf inclines her head towards the dwarf's first attempt.

"There's probably food on that flying mountain for whoever is sitting on it," she suggests thoughtfully. "Hopefully we're not on its usual menu."

"Perhaps we might consider what our options are, assuming we can jump aboard the flying mountain," the Elf pipes up. "I am certain that you know how to use those weapons you hold, but I have but little experience in battling alongside an army, albeit a small one."

"I am an adept - I can manipulate the magic that lies within all things. As you have already seen, from a small silken strand or a spider's web I can conjure a tangle of sticky threads to trap creatures within. With but a few pebbles I can create globes of mystical energy. From a coin I can form a shield.. if I but had a coin!"

Hamin raises his eyebrows and digs into his bag, "Silver or Gold?" he asks.  "I've only got a few silver, so if you want more than a handful it will have to be gold ..."

Brugar lifts the pair of rodent-like creatures he snared and sniffs them judiciously.

"Seem like they be alright to me," he mutters. "Reckon as Ah'll try an' make a smokeless fire to be cooking 'em. Need some good dry fuel for that, thicker'n me thumb, no bark or leaves an' naught as is green. First job be to find the right fuel. Reckon Ah might as well set a few snares to catch more of these little beauties if'n we be staying a couple days. Summat to warn of anything approaching the campsite too, Ah reckon. That'll 'elp pass the time. Might be time left to scout around the area too, or better yet, do that while Ah be doing the other as well."

The dwarf seems content enough with those tasks to keep him occupied.

"Even copper would do," Ayas assures Hamin. "I could bore you for hours speaking about the principles of Sympathetic Magic.." the elf meets the gaze of the grim warrior and hurriedly continues, "..but I promise I will not! A few silver will be fine for my purposes."

"I've survived on that thin gruel they serve in the prison for months," he tells Brugar. "I would be very pleased to feast upon such an extravagance."

"Another thought.. with a length of rope and a twist of parchement I can create.. call it an extradimensional space, if that helps our plans? The spell will persist for perhaps nine hours."

Hamin hands over a few silver coins, and then puts his purse away.  "You can have some gold coins as well if you need them." 

"I wonder if that would help me stop the change ...." Hamin muses  "After all, if I am not in this dimension I should be away from the pull of the moon ..."

Yetta perks up a little bit, and then sighs.  "That might have been better to know before Dad tore apart all of our ropes," she notes.  "Will it work with Brugar's magic one, or are any of these pieces still long enough for whatever you need?"

"It can't have been all of it.  There was a hundred feet of silk rope in my pack." Hamin offers.

The elf nods his head thoughtfully at Hamin's suggestion as he gratefully accepts the silver coin. "It should suffice - the space is not on our world, and so as you say the effects of the moon would not reach it."

"The only problem is that the moon may be in the sky for a few hours longer than the spell will last - but if it saves you eight hours of suffering, then that is a boon."

Ayas seems quite excited at the prospect.

With plans made, at least for food and the night to come, the day passes much more pleasantly.

Brugar sets his snares and traps, ready to catch or at least warn of whatever unwary beasts come too close this night, and while the mists make finding dry tinder impossible, so too they mask the smoke of the fire that the Dwarf kindles, and when cooked the rodent-like creatures prove to taste better than they look.

Night comes, and you decide to trust to the manacles rather than risk Hamin shredding all your rope.  Ayas selects a short piece of what remains from last night, barely five feet in length and as the light fails and the mists start to thin, warning of the approach of night, the Adept casts his spell, creating the space into which you quickly place Hamin, bound in metal.

The spell affords a window between this world and wherever it is, so you are able to talk for a time and get what sleep you can between turns on guard, until a couple of hours before what passes for dawn the spell fails and the one-eyed warrior is dropped (but a short distance thanks to Ayas's choice of a short rope) and his horrific transformation sets in.

Two hours later, though, Hamin reverts to human form, and you all breathe a sigh of relief.  Not long after that the mists begin to reform and the darkness recedes somewhat.

"We may have been discovered," Alasha'an reluctantly gives warning.  "I saw two figures out there - dark elves is my guess - but whoever it was definitely heard the noise," she glances sympathetically at Hamin.

"If so, then they may know what it signified and I fear they may return."

"Undoubtedly so," Ayas adds, glumly.  "The Hounds of Rhiannon will suffer none of their kind who is not part of their pack.  Any Dark Elf would seek to capture any such for the bounty offered, though they would wait till any moon-wrought transformation had ended, for they'd have no wish to share the same fate."

"We would be wise to assume they may return, and in greater numbers."

When Hamin is dropped out of his small world, he falls a good 5 feet onto a rocky floor, changing shape as he does so.  "arrghhhhwarooooolw" he half shouts half howls.

"Sorry." he comments as Alasha'an talks of the two mysterious figures in the early morning dimness.  "A shame they left, I could do with some exercise." he continues as he works the kinks, aches and pains out of his muscles.

Being tied up and then dropped 5 feet, isn't fun.  Although it isn't as bad as the revening change that came over him as he fell.

"D'ye want to be movin' camp then? Maybe we can shake 'em off if'n we find somewhere better to 'ide for tonight. Or d'ye reckon as they'd 'ave someone watchin' us through the day anyways?" Brugar asks.

OOC:  How many nights of Hamin-Change have we done?

OOC: two nights thus far, one to go if the word of Vaden Kiang is to be believed.

"If they've any sense at all, they'll return before nightfall - before the change is upon you," Alasha'an muses.

"Let's wait for them," the elf suggests to Brugar, nodding towards Hamin, "he needs the exercise!"

"There were six of them in the patrol that chased Sully and me," Ayas advises. "Though I am more confident of our chances in my present company. Perhaps we might take one of them alive in the hpoe they might tell us of the movements of the flying mountain and how it might be reached?"

"Six? Don't like their chances!" Alasha'an smiles thinly.

"Though I'm not confident we can keep any alive - from what I've seen they're against it on the whole. We might knock one out, I suppose.. but I don't know that they're going to be very helpful when they wake up."

"Just make sure that I am bound before the moon rises -  or shut yourselves in that hole that Ayas makes.  I can  live with their blood on my conscience.  Yours is a different matter ...."

"Ah don't reckon as them drow would attack in daylight. Don't like the light, so far as Ah 'eard. Reckon they can't see too well at all in daylight. So maybe they ain't got no one watchin' us now? Reckon they'll be back after the sun sets, afore the moon rises. Ye sure ye don't want to move camp an' try an' shake 'em off, at least for tonight?"

"If we can find somewhere ..."

"But if they found us here, why wouldn't they find us somewhere else?" Yetta asks.  "And when we're up the rope, we're pretty much... gone anyway, aren't we?  What if we just make it look like we left?" she proposes.  "Send them off in some direction we don't plan to go when we do leave, and stay here?"

The elf shakes his head. "In the mists they have no fear of the sun," he explains.  "And less risky to take one afflicted with the madness of the beast when the moon does not transform them.  They will come in the day."

"Sully and I could not outrun them, perhaps we will have more luck if we try.. or perhaps we would be better making what preparations we can to greet them on our own terms? Ambush them as they mean to do to us."

The elf grins nastily. "They'll be expecting to find someone who ran off when the change hit, nothing in the way of weapons, little in the way of clothes. Imagine their surprise!"

"Ayas, Brugar and you," she looks to Hamin, "in here waiting for them.. your daughter and Varl outside with me.  Think you can avoid being spotted?" she asks the nervous rogue, more than confident in the abilities of herself and Yetta.  "If not, hang back till you hear their screams."

"Then we hit them from both sides as they enter our very own hole in the rock. What could possibly go wrong?!"

Brugar thinks about Alasha'an's plan for a few moments before responding.

"Aye, sounds like a plan to me," he agrees. "D'ye want the three of us huddled in a circle round the fire, draped in our cloaks to hide the weapons we be 'olding? To draw 'em in close, like? Might make us easy targets for poisoned arrows, though. Ah 'eard summat about drow using that kind of dirty trick. Maybe we oughta use what cover as we can instead?"

"Aye," the elf confirms Brugar's concern about the poisoned arrows, "they do favour them, though they did not use such weapons when they chased down Sully and myself.. I think they liked the thrill of the chase, poor sport though we must have been."

"They'd only be suspicious should they see anyone else in company with one who had fallen to the beast within - such unfortunates seek solitude, both the the change and for what usually follows.  Best they see none but Hamin."

Ayas looks around the hidey-hole to see what cover it might provide.

The collapse of the rockface has left the area strewn with boulders and small rocks outside, where you might seek cover, and within the naturally formed cave walls protrude and jut out, providing sufficient concealment.  Additionally, there is no direct line of sight to the opening from the back of the cave.

The entrance is but five feet wide, and as the cave winds back a hundred feet or so the width varies between ten and fifteen feet.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... placements per Alasha'an's suggested ambush positions.

Hamin smiles thinly and find a blanket to wrap around his shoulders.   Sitting down close to the doorway he wraps the blanket around him to hide his armour.   However he makes sure that his pole arm is close to hando.

"The sacrificial goat is ready
..."

"I'll give you fair warning if any visitors approach," Alasha'an waggles her finger on which sits a ring, the twin of which is (usually) on Hamin's hand, snorting at the idea of the one-eyed warrior going meekly to the slaughter!

Brugar isn't happy about being stuck right at the back of the cave and he moves back towards the entrance a bit further before he is happy. He takes up a position about 10ft south of Hamin where he can still be out of sight of anyone entering the cave.

"Ah don't wanna be late for the party if'n them drow spot any of ye 'idden outside there", he tells Alasha'an, Yetta and Varl.

While your plans are made and you all take up your positions ... it seems the Dark Elves may not be so obliging, as you wait and wait, the hours going by.

But come they do, at last, Alasha'an relaying the news to Hamin inside the cave and the one-eyed warrior passing it on to Brugar and Ayas as the Elf bids Yetta and Varl duck down to use the boulders to shield them from the eyes of the hunters until they spring your trap.

The Dark Elves approach with a care that seems driven not by fear but of a desire not to scare away the helpless beast-man they think to find, though as the close upon the cleft in the cliff face that is the entrance to the cave and they believe their quarry now cornered, they abandon their caution, predatory smiles lighting their faces.

There are four of them, not the six that Ayas had supposed, all wearing cloaks, with the hoods up as if to ward off the sun that cannot penetrate the mists, one with a long knife, two with arrows nocked in their bows and the last holding a wickedly spiked flail.

"Come out, little wolf, come out," the one at the fore calls from the opening, toying with the dagger in his hand, his words picked with a deliberate cadence.  "You belong now to the Lady of the Pale, and we must bring you to her !"

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Hamin grins inside his blanket and  get to his feet leaning heavily on the pole that lays conveniently to hand.  However, when he straightens fully, and flexes his muscles, it is obvious that he is not going to be a lamb to the slaughter.

"For you, now, she is the Mistress of Nightmares." the old warrior grins thinly as he recalls another of Rhianon's sobriquets.  "And she may actually be blessing me for a change.  I have been bored and frustrated over the last few days, now she sends you for me to play with."  The grin widens for a moment before he suddenly snaps a command.  "Kneel before me, scum!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:37, Sun 03 Nov 2019.

Brugar glances at Hamin and grins back at him. He remains pressed back into the bend of the tunnel as far as he can to stay out of sight of the drow until they come much further into the tunnel.

The mage looks more than a little alarmed at Hamin's unexpected challenge, and the grin on the face of the Dwarf does not calm his fears.

He holds a sticky ball of spider web between his fingers, steeling himself to step forward and invoke his magic once the dark elves enter the cave.

The elf grins broadly as Hamin's words reach her ears and she waits for her chance to spring into action.

Hamin's single eye blinks once, and he lowers the point of his polearm to point at the ground.  "Now."

The leader of the Dark Elves snorts with derision at Hamin's challenge.

"The Widow-Maker is our mistress, and she'd not have us shirk from such sport !" he replies with cruel pleasure, advancing into the cave, uncaring of his fellows, though two of them, the pair with the bows do follow, the one with the flail seemingly conent to wait without.

As the third passes over the threshold into the cave, Hamin gives the signal to attack !

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Hamin  stretches and strides towards the first of the dark elves, ready to strike it as soon as he can.

OOC:  Ach, I wasn't looking at maps, was I?

As Hamin gives the word, Ayas hurries forwards from his place of concealment, aiming his spell for the cave's opening, hoping to catch as many of the foe as possible in the webs he creates, careful to keep sufficient distance from Brugar lest the Dwarf's magic shield interfere with the magic he wields.

"These.. or others like them slew my friend," his fears are set aside now as battle is joined and cold anger comes unbidden, his words an accusation.

Brugar looks a better t bemused about the strategy unfolding for this fight, but strategic thinking was never his strong point anyway. He follows Hamin’s lead and advances down the tunnel alongside the one-eyed warrior.

As Brugar and Hamin advance purposefully towards the Dark Elves, Ayas steps out of the shadows, words of magic tripping from his lips as he rubs the spider's web between his finger, throwing it towards the foe.

The webs fly through the air to the far end of the cave, expanding to block the entire opening with a mass of sticky strands.  The Dark Elf towards the rear manages to leap clear but the other two are bound fast within as Dwarf and Man close upon them.

Outside, Alasha'an darts forward, though Yetta misses her cue and Varl stumbles in the Elf's wake, struggling to keep up.

Ignoring the one that barely escaped the webs, the Elf brings her dark blade down upon the other, dropping him with but one blow, and easily dodging the hurried shot from the the remaining Dark Elf as he looses an arrow from close range.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Yetta, for the moment, stays crouched and quiet, looking back the way the Dark Elves came from.  It's entirely possible not all of their patrols have the same number of people, of course - but it's also possible they didn't all rush in themselves.

"Look.  Just one flick of her blade.  Either she's getting better, or these  are just babies .... " he says leaning against the wall and nodding towards the dark elves stuck in the webbing.  "Seems their spidery goddess has forgotten them and let them get caught up in our web instead.  Shame.  But let's see if we can just knock one of them out, I am going to get hungry later on, and warm meat is better than cold ..."

Brugar scowls at the webs keeping him from coming to grips with the dark elves.

If there are lit torches in the tunnel he will grab one in his right fist (meaning his shield is temporarily not effective) and attack the webs to clear a path to the first of the drow.

Ayas raises his finger.. but whatever spell he was about to launch is forestalled by Hamin's suggestion.  After a moment's consideration, the young man chooses instead to follow after the two warriors, to draw closer to where the Dark Elves are trapped in his webs.

Hamin taunts the two Dark Elves, caught like flies, though neither seems much impressed by the irony which the one-eyed warrior delights in pointing out, renewing their efforts to break free.

Brugar shares something of their frustration, but elects not to wade into the webs himself and risk getting trapped, while Ayas moves nearer, to place the foe in range of his spells.

Outside, Alasha'an seems in no mood to take prisoners, slaying another of the Dark Elves, though without the element of surprise, it takes her two cuts of her iron blade to drop the second.

Nearby, Yetta keeps to her place of concealment, staring into the mists.

The Dark Elf nearest the cave entrance is unable to break free, but the other ceases to struggle, at least for the moment, to concentrate ... and darkness engulfs

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... and sorry, Brugar, no handy torches (I hadn't even realised there were any depicted on the chosen map tiles)  :>
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:59, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

Hamin shrugs in the darkness, and speaks loudly.  "I knew there was reason I didn't like those little barstewards.  Feel free to throw any sort of nasty magic down there, I have decided that I don't want them for company tonight.  And they probably taste bad anyway ...."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:42, Mon 16 Dec 2019.

A quick glance at Hamin and Ayas is enough for Brugar to realise that the one-eyed warrior and the elvish mage probably can't see a thing even in the normal darkness of the tunnel while all light from the entrance is cut off by the drow's spell of darkness.

Brugar continues scowling and muttering curses about sneaky, cheating, long-eared spider-lovers, while he fishes out flint and steel and a little bundle of half a dozen candles from his backpack. He will light one as swiftly as he can to allow Hamin and Ayas to see in the tunnel.

Hamin bends down and uses his hands to shield the kindling from any breeze that might blow along the tunnel.

Slowly, the one eyes warrior winks at Brugar.

The elf is indeed grateful to Brugar for the light, though he frowns at the area of impenetrable darkness. He notices Hamin's wink to the dwarf, and though he is uncertain as to what it implies, elects to choose his words carefully, so as not to spoil whatever it is the two are planning.

"I think they'd rather die than return to admit defeat and the suffering that would gain them," Ayas suggests.

"And trapped as they are, killing them would be easy." He fishes the body of a small insect from his pocket, a blindworm from the look of it.

"I can fill that passageway with monstrous tentacles that will bind them and slowly crush the life from them," his raised brow seeks permission to proceed.

Hamin grins.  "Feel Free ...."  he says  waving a hand towards the impenetrable darkness  "...  the quicker we get this over with the better.  I'll warn Alasha'an".

He cocks his head to one side and appears to concentrate for a moment.  Then with a slight nod he turns back to the Drow Darkness, checking to see if the boundaries are moving.

The elf's lips quirk for a moment as she stands over the two corpses.

Realising that she can't reach the two dark elves she sees approaching stealthily, Yetta calls out a warning to Alasha'an and Varl, watching as one of the foe begins to run towards her, waiting till he is almost on top of her before stepping out from her place of concealment behind the rock and launching a vicious attack with her bastard sword that catches the elf completely by surprise, giving it no chance to recover as the blade pierces flesh once, twice, dropping it to the ground. 

The other fares no better, being forced to pick his way slowly around the rocks where Alasha'an stands waiting for him ... and so allowing Varl to come at him from behind where the two make short work of him between them.

Within the cave ... with the spell of Darkness blocking the entrance and plunging the whole into darkness, Brugar lights a candle, while Ayas, having gained Hamin's permission, casts a spell of his own, causing a field of rubbery black tentacles to form, unseen within the Darkness, though the soon-stilled cries from the two dark elves caught within signify their effectiveness ... and it is not long before the Darkness fades, leaving two ensnared and barely conscious foe.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 12:59, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

"They will die if I do not release them," Ayas notes, somewhat coldly as he recalls that such as these showed no mercy to his slain friend.

Hamin shrugs, "I can finish them off, if you prefer?" he offers.  It is, in his view, well past the time for playing games with these dark elves, but he is happy to let any on the others interrogate one of them -  if they want to.

"So how long have we got to nightfall?" he asks, the darkness having disoriented him.  Then, completely out of the blue, he sneezes.  "he ...he ...  hen .... t  ....aichouuu"

"Aye, longears, release 'em so we can question 'em. Ah never learned the trick of gettin' a corpse to talk," Brugar advises as he touches the candle to the webs. The look on his face as he watches a tiny patch of webs sizzle and snap is just like that of a child with a new toy.

The foe is defeated, three of them outside the cave are dead, one but a few heartbeats from joining them, carved up by Alasha'an and Yetta's blades, while the two within are insensate, collapsing to the ground, barely conscious as Ayas reluctantly releases them, swayed by Brugar's words to dismiss his spells, though the Elf's wishes are obviously more in line with Hamin's.

As best as you can determine, it is now shortly after what would be noon if the sun was visible through these mists.

Brugar reluctantly blows out his candle and stows candles and flint and steel in his backpack again. Then he walks out of the cave to check with those outside, to confirm everything is under control and tell them about the two prisoners inside.

"Reckon as ye might wanna question 'em," he suggests to Alasha'an and Yetta.

"Never been much good at that meself," he admits.

He is of more use when it comes to searching the bodies of the slain, then finding a convenient spot to bury the corpses.

The two prisoners within seem not inclined to speak at all ... but even such habitually stoic creatures as they are somewhat perturbed by Brugar's enthusiasm in removing the heads from their fallen comrades.

As to whether that will loosen their tongues ...

The Dwarf's search of the bodies does reveal some items of interest - two knives, a longsword and a flail that are rather ordinary, one longsword and one longbow that are of exceptional workmanship (MW), and, so Ayas determines, a knife and a longbow that have a faint magic aura upon them.   Five of the Dark Elves wear studded leather armour, two sets of which are of fine quality (MW) and one wears a mithril chain shirt.  Both bowmen had small vials that contain a foul smelling paste, the remnants of which can be seen upon the tips of their arrows - most likely a poison of some kind.

Additionally one had a potion which Ayas finds to have a faint aura of transmutation, and another a metal horn, the instrument at first appearing tarnished and oddly angular, but at his touch becoming shining and rounded.

More notably, all of the dead (and the living too, when you check) bear rune-scribed brass bracelets which Ayas confirms to have a moderate magical aura, and which the Adept holds to relate to conjurations.  Moreover, one of them bears a rough, hand-drawn map which marks a spot perhaps a day's travel to the north near the hills south of the Sankaduin, which those from the Fourth Age knew as the Snake River.

OOC: Updated to add details of the Dark Elves possessions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:40, Sat 18 Jan 2020.

"Well, that do be innerestin'," Brugar remarks as he listens to Ayas's discoveries and studies the map.

"Ah reckon Ah know a bit about this 'ere spot marked on their map. Back when Ah were a lad, Ah 'eard stories about an old step temple deep within the forest near the Snake River. Full of goblins, it were, in the sold stories Ah 'eard.

"Ah were wonderin' 'ow these dark elves be gettin' up an' down from that flyin' mountain of theirs. Maybe these 'ere magic bracelets be summat to do with that, an' that ol' step temple be their meetin' point with the flyin' mountain? Maybe the 'orn be to call to the mountain? Maybe ye can get them prisoners to tell us about 'em and 'ow they work. Or if'n they won't talk we still oughta go visit that temple. We might even see some others of these dark bastards coming or going and figure out 'ow it works that way."

"I've no spells that can compel them to speak," Ayas adds with no little regret.

"What could we offer them?  Pain and death they can get anytime!"

The elf studies the faces of those that yet live as Brugar voices his speculations, but shakes her head. "I was hoping to see at least a flicker there, but I can't read them. For my money, though I think the dwarf is close to the mark."

"Let's get those bracelets, then..

"I think I can," Ayas seems reluctant to speak, as if not certain. "Varl and I were imprisoned far longer than the rest of you.. you learn to read warning signs."

"That one - he seemed to react to Brugar's mention of the temple."

Hamin watches on, happy to leave the final decision of the Dark Elves immediate future to the others.  However, he does have an opinion, "Chopping heads off sounds good to me.  Or else I can slit throats when the time comes ..."

Brugar glances at the dark elves then glances back at Hamin.

"Nah, Ah reckon ye'll be right 'ungry, ravenous even, later tonight. Reckon as we might be wantin' to leave one of 'em alive 'til then, at least," he suggests with a grimace. "Wonder which one of 'em wants a quick, clean death the most? Or a few extra days of life?"

OOC: Brugar is only +1 on his Intimidate skill check. Whoever is higher might want to pick up on this idea and see if it can persuade one of the drow to talk.

Hamin nods at Brugar's words and taps his eye patch menacingly.

OOC: Hamin already tried and, even though his intimidate is 5, failed abysmally.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:47, Fri 21 Feb 2020.

"You might eat him," Alasha'an picks up on what Hamin and Brugar are doing, "or he might get really lucky and turn into a beast-man himself. Bet that'd make him popular with all his old friends, next full moon!"

OOC: Intimidate +6 <coughs modestly>  :-)

Yetta pouts.  "Do we have to feed them to him?" she asks, petulantly, looking at the prisoners.  "I was hoping we could play."


OOC: +10?

Your captives sneer at your obvious ploy ... until Yetta speaks.  Something about the way the young woman phrases her question seems to chill the pair to the core, and if fear does not make them any more civil, at least they now are inclined to provide the answers you seek.

"Slay us if you will," one demands, "but do not give us to her ... or him."

"You have guessed right," the other says, reluctantly, choosing his words carfully.  "Beneath that ancient temple to gods long dead our masters have placed a portal.  These bands we bear are the key that allows passage to and from Meneldorod."

Staying in character, one might hope, Yetta throws up her hands.  "Oh, come on!" she protests.  "If you start talking they'll never let me have any fun!"

As the elf continues to exposit helpfully, she glares at him, clearly angry at being denied whatever plans she had in mind.  When he's done, she spins towards Brugar, jabbing a finger at the drow.  "That doesn't even count!  You already knew that!  He didn't give you any command words or passwords or tell you about any tricks and traps or anything!  C'mon, please?  Just two days.  I can try my new spell, the one with the thorns!"

Shifting abruptly from anger to a breathier, almost sing-song tone, she turns to Alasha'an and blinks hopefully.  "I'll let you watch this time... I know the men don't have the stomach for it, but we could have so much fun before he stops feeling bitey."

Alasha'an can keep neither smile from her lips or a snort of laughter contained, though the elf does try to cover the lapse with her words.

"Naughty girl !" she admonishes Yetta. "I blame the parents," she tells Hamin, this time managing to control herself.

"It is her turn, I suppose.."

Hamin puts two hands  up in front of him and takes a step backwards, before stopping and leaning nonchalantly against the wall.  Whether that is in response to being blamed (although the Drow don't know that) or whether that is his response to it being Yetta's turn - is open to interpretation.

Brugar frowns at Yetta but shrugs reluctantly.

"Ye do got a good point there lass. Maybe if'n 'e tells us what be waitin' on t'other side of portal?"

Brugar almost sounds like he is pleading with Yetta for leniency.

Yetta claps her hands excitedly as Brugar folds, and turns back to the pair, smiling delightedly.  "Oh, I have an even better idea," she purrs.

"I get whichever one tells us the least," she declares.  "And we start the bidding with you," she points to the first one who spoke.  Spinning quickly on her heel, she waves back at them airily.  "Do whatever you want with the winner - I like gutting, but I suppose you can do something even... quicker, if you want.  He's yours.  But don't..." she fixes Brugar with a hard glare, "touch," she transfers her Look to Hamin, "Mine."  She finishes with Alasha'an.

Certain that her amusement is assured, she finishes, "I have some preparations to make," and skips out of the chamber, humming cheerfully to herself, though moments later, disturbing sounds begin echoing from the passageway; scraping metal, and a low incomprehensible chanting, punctuated with occasional giggles.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:21, Sat 07 Mar 2020.

The elven mage is decidedly alarmed at the turn the conversation is taking.. the moreso when he hears the noiss and laughter coming from the far end of the tunnel.

Neither of the dark elves seem inclined to do other than keep a civil tongue in their heads, and while the threats directed their way indeed serve to encourage their cooperation, the pair do not seem inclined to beg or barter.

"There are no traps," the first asserts.  "Atop the steps at the South end of the platform before the temple there is a loose flag that opens a secret way to a chamber below, and another hidden door in the west wall down there that leads to the tunnels."

"The portal is located in the first cave.  There are other passages leading off it, but my understanding is that there is nothing living down there ... nor undead either to the best of my knowledge," he adds.

"The portal leads to Meneldorod - opening out on a windswept platform  perhaps three hundred feet in both directions, edged around with railings and abutting a circular tower to the rear.  There is but one opening into the tower, and none that I know of has passed beyond it - we are instructed to just leave the supplies outside and return through the portal."

Alasha'an still struggles to keep the smile of her face, but at least manages to make it nasty as she addresses the prisoners.

"Think quickly and talk faster," she advises the pair. "Now.. do you know who the supplies are for and what they're doing up there?"

She raises her brows at Hamin.

Hamin's thin grin returns, and he adjusts his eyepatch slightly.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:44, Sun 15 Mar 2020.

"Ah wonder 'oo be giving 'em their orders," Brugar mutters.

He glances at Hamin speculatively, as though wondering just how hungry he is going to get tonight.

"We've never seen nor heard any creature stir in that tower," one of the pair responds, a touch of his natural contempt showing in spite of the fear he tries to hide.  "But ... the last time we were there there was a horse chained up upon the platform."

He shrugs. "It did not look best pleased to be there."

"Since our orders come from Math's priests, the Seekers, we assume that the supplies we bring are for others of their order."

Brugar scowls.

"Tower of the god of dark secrets and magic of that ilk. Sounds wunnerful. Can't wait to pay 'em a visit."

"But, don't forget, we want to visit their garden." Hamin reminds Brugar.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:19, Sun 22 Mar 2020.

"If I were you, I'd have made up something much more enticing," Alasha'an remarks casually to the prisoners.  "Still, you caught the dwarf's attention, so I suppose that's something."

She gestures to the others to join her outside, out of earshot, leaving the pair to listen to Yetta's performance (it is for their benefit after all).

"Don't think we're going to get much else out of them. Looks like the Seekers prefer to keep all their knowledge to themselves!"

"One more night here," she smiles sympathetically at Hamin, "and we can go looking for this temple. I'm sure we can find it if you can get us to roughly the right spot," she suggest to Brugar, "temples are notoriously bad at concealing themselves."

"What do we do with those two," she looks back towards the cave. "I'm happy if they don't live to tell the tale."

"Well.  You promised them a quick death  ... " Hamin replies quietly" ...  we can't take prisoners and they can't really give parole." Hamin shrugs.  "It is either kill them or let them go.  I can live with either, although  a knife in the ribs is probably better ...."

Brugar doesn't hesitate to agree the dark elves' fate. He doesn't say a word but simply nods and draws his finger across his throat.

The elf also assents. While he finds his hatred of the prisoners waning now they are helpless.. but not enough to spare them to continue to spread their evil.

Though Ayas is glad indeed that he will not be the one wielding the knife!

"Them or us," shrugs Varl, making no secret of his preference. Indeed he has no qualms at all bout being the one to do the deed.

Alasha'an and Varl return to the cave and your prisoners ... and quickly and efficiently the deed is done.

"What now?" the elf asks. "We've got a lot of bodies and there's either going to be someone come looking for them or some creature sniffing out a meal. I figure best we head off, try to find somewhere else to hole up overnight and then find this old temple on the morrow."

"And you might want to go and calm your daughter down now," Alasha'an grins at Hamin. "Tell her the party's over!"

"I hope she has already realised ..." Hamin  responds to Alasha'an, but with a stern glance towards Yetta.  Parenting never was a strong point, and not something he had really practised - issuing instructions was more his line, but he didn't do that too well either.  Last time he really tried that it cost so many lives ...

"I'm happy to move on." he adds, "If we don't find somewhere sheltered to stay, you will just have to chain me anyway ..."

"We can drag 'em down the back of the cave," Brugar suggests. "At least they'll be outa sight back there. Take off their 'eads, too, so they ain't gonna become them walkin' dead thingies neither. Grab their stuff, or anything what's of any use, then off we go. Ah'll see what Ah can do about findin' us another cave for tonight."

He starts work straight away to carry and dump the bodies and severed heads right at the back of the cave.

Hamin follows Brugar's lead, and helps move the heads and bodies to the back of the cave.

Yetta giggles at Hamin's Look.  "Aw, but I was having fun."  She pouts for a moment, before laughing and dropping the act, now that its audience is dead.  "It helps that Drow kind of expect that sort of thing from a woman, but I wouldn't want to live that way."  She follows him back to help with the corpses, picking the heads up by the hair and tossing them a good distance away from where the bodies end up.

Then she'll settle down to help pat them down, carefully looking for anything of use, starting, of course, with the bracelets.

The grisly deed is soon done and the dark elves' remains are unceremoniously deposited at the rear of the cave.  No doubt whatever wild beasts roam these parts will soon find the corpses, but at least they are well beyond any chance discovery by any passing patrols.

Her act no longer necessary with the intended audience now beyond any threat or persuasion, Yetta examines those items of interest that Brugar had found - two knives, a longsword and a flail that are rather ordinary, one longsword and one longbow that are of exceptional workmanship (MW), and, so Ayas determined, a knife and a longbow that have a faint magic aura upon them.  As well two of the five sets of studded leather armour they wore are of fine quality (MW) and one had a mithril chain shirt.  Both bowmen had small vials that contain a foul smelling paste, the remnants of which can be seen upon the tips of their arrows - most likely a poison of some kind.

Additionally one had a potion which Ayas discovered to have a faint aura of transmutation, and another a metal horn, the instrument at first appearing tarnished and oddly angular, but which had become shining and rounded at his touch.

More notable are the rune-scribed brass bracelets all the dead wore, which Ayas confirmed to have a moderate magical aura that pertains to conjurations and the rough, hand-drawn map which marks a spot perhaps a day's travel to the north near the hills south of the Sankaduin, which those from the Fourth Age knew as the Snake River, and is in the vicinity of Brugar's old home.

"I believe the horn offers protection against any creature of ill-intent," Ayas proffers, though he sounds somewhat uncertain. "In the hands of those whose motives are pure, anyway.. I think it would also work the other way around. A somewhat fickle device to be sure."

The elf is in agreement with Brugar. "Best we put some distance between ourselves and these," he eyes the corpses distastefully, "in case anyone or anything comes looking for them.  I can cast that spell again to open the extra-dimensional space to provide Hamin with at least some relief from the moon's influence when night falls.. though a cave would be welcome if you can provide one," he smiles faintly at the dwarf.

"I suppose a room at an Inn with a warm bed and a hot meal is out of the question.  I have heard such things used to be commonplace comforts for people of Ages gone by."

Brugar gathers his gear and is very soon ready to leave.

"Aye, an inn'd be grand," he agrees with Ayas. "They 'ave good ale in inns, an' what-ya-ma-call-it, that there fermented grape juice, for 'em as prefers it."

He will also gather up all of the masterwork weapons and armour that nobody else has any immediate use for and packs them away in his bag of holding, making sure to wrap any sharp items so they won't accidentally puncture the enchanted bag. He takes a few practice swings and stabs with the enchanted sword and knife too, just to see if they do anything out of the ordinary.

"Ye all wanna take one of these magic brass bracelets each, for when we get to that old step temple?" he asks.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:54, Sat 18 Apr 2020.

Yetta stops for a moment, lowering her head, the fingers of her right hand gently brushing against the ring on her left.  She says something, too quietly to hear, and then sighs and looks back up.

Wiping an arm quickly across her eyes, she steps forward and picks up one of the bracelets, nodding.  "I'll take no moon over soft beds right now," she says, a bit roughly.  She looks at Ayas seriously and adds, "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too." Hamin agrees with his daughter, "although I wouldn't mind a room and a couple of beers back in The Whistle."  Hamin reminisces quietly, before turning serious again.  "Hold on to one of them for me, Brugar.  Let's get this last night out of the way, before I start wearing any new  bracelets.  And someone keep that Horn close to hand, just in case I manage to slip those bonds ..."

Forced by necessity to foresake the meagre cave that provided shelter and a semblance of safety for you these first two nights of the full moon, you continue to pick your way slowly across the Orodedanai, the Dwarven Mountains that were, Brugar's stone-sense guiding you well, and relying on Alasha'an's magic boots to get you around obstacles that might otherwise have had you doubling back.

Indeed, come late in the mist-shrouded day, while making your way over yet another rock fall, you chance upon an opening high up on an otherwise unaccessible ledge, and there find a cave, smaller than the last, but not a place that any creature lacking wings would easily reach.

There you make your camp for the night, your preparations now all too familiar but no less grim for all of that.  And before the mists part to reveal the moon above Ayas casts his spell once more to create that other-place in which Hamin might avoid it's dread effects ... and then, bound again in metal chains that terrible transformation from man to beast for two long hours before the light of dawn, dulled by the returning mists, release the one-eyed warrior.

Three nights it has been now, and all of you have survived unscathed, even the Dwarf's wounds now fully healed and with no further harm to any of you (if not the hurts of the mind that are not so easily mended).

You are near now, the lay of the maimed land still not entirely unfamiliar to Brugar, though near enough that the map you took from the Dark Elves suffices to guide the way.  Indeed, you realise that your destination is not so many miles from where lie the Halls of Tizun Thane who was once Master of the Mirrors that are now the charge of Lord Diker.

Descending from the mountains, the way becomes easier as you cross the open plain, and enter the thicket of dead trees that cluster around the hills from which the Sankaduin, the Snake River that was, flow turgidly down to the sea.

Close near the foot of the hills, and surrounded by the skeletons of the forest that once grew here, the stepped temple no longer is hidden by the lush green it once knew, though now clinging mists conceal it well.

Stretching up into the mists, the top hidden from sight, you stand before the temple, each level around ten feet tall, though a stone staircase climbs one side allowing passage to the heights ...

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

It was not far from here, so Ayas reckons, that his friend died and he was captured.. and so the young elf has become increasingly nervous as the day progressed, alternatively staring into the mists fancying he saw something and chiding himself for his fears.

The temple certainly looks forbidding, and promising only a way to traverse the heights to a flying mountain but adds to his discomfit. But his fears do not dissuade him.

"I think these steps alone will kill me," he smiles, attempting a weak jest.

"Straight up the stairs?" Hamin asks, as he takes a step forwards, ready to lead the way.

"We've come this far," the elf smile sardonically," why not?"

"I'll go first," Alasha'an cautions Hamin. "Those dark elves might have had their tongues loosened for fear of your daughter," she winks at Yetta, "but they may still have neglected to tell us about any traps they'd set. Let me check first then follow me."

"Might as well put our bracelets on now.." pausing for a moment she looks towards Brugar. "That shield of yours - is it going to play nicely with this portal we're looking for?" she asks doubtfully.

Hamin shrugs and, with a half-bow, waves Alasha'an through.  "I'll bring up the rear, then." he adds slipping the bracelet onto his arm.

Brugar slips the bracelet onto his arm and looks at his shield thoughtfully for a moment.

"Ah don't rightly know, lass," he admits. "Any spell that be cast at me, through me or within 5 foot of me gets swallowed up by Dweomerbane. It don't cancel out aught what be already in effect, though."

"What d'ye reckon, long-ears?" he asks Ayas. "If'n Ah stow me shield in the bag of 'olding, be that far enough removed so it won't muck up this 'ere magic portal thingy? Or do Ah gotta leave it behind an' pick it up when we comes back out again?"

The elf looks somewhat alarmed at Brugar's suggestion.

"I do not know what effect it might have on such as a portal," Ayas confesses, "but I'd not risk placing it into what is in effect an extra-dimensional space !"

Calming, he considers the dwarf's explanation further.

"If your shield's magics is only effective against new castings then it depends if the portal is always active and the bracers just allow passage, or if it is activated by the magic within them.  We should be able to determine that when we find the portal."

"And," he seems reluctant to say so, but, "that would also mean that it should be safe to place your shield within the magic bag, for the magics that affect that are permanent in nature.  As long as you are not offended if maintain a worried demeanor as you do so !" he grins weakly.

As you fasten the bracers around your wrists and Brugar discusses with Ayas whether his spell-absorbing shield will impact upon the operation of the portal you seek, Alasha'an leads the way up the steep stone stairs, carefully checking as she goes, while Hamin keeps a vigilant watch to the rear ... but your climb to the summit of the stepped temple proves thankfully uneventful.

At the top there is a platform of wide stone flags beyond which lies a walled, roofed stone structure, the shadowy interior of which affords a view of a large stone altar slab.  The ground, in and out, is littered with shards of shattered stone and bone.

Searching outside, you find and soon pry open the loose stone flag of which the Dark Elves spoke to reveal a short drop to a stairway that lead down to the depths of the stepped temple.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar takes a look down the stairs then glances back at Alasha'an.

"D'ye still wanna take the lead, lass, or be it time for me to go first?" he asks her.

The elf shakes her head. "I still don't trust the information we were given," she tells Brugar. "I'd rather go slow and careful than rush in and stumble into something nasty."

"We're going to need a light down there, though.. we can't all see in the dark."

Hamin looks across at Ayas, as the person most likely to be able to click their fingers and create a light.

The elf shakes his head at Hamin's unspoken question.  "Only the Chosen can conjure a light," he tells the one-eyed warrior.  "Or a Book Mage, perhaps."

"I fear my lantern is long since lost."

"I've a torch in my pack," Alasha'an recalls, slipping the straps off her shoulder and rummaging around inside until she locates one.. and her tinderbox to light it with.

While Alasha'an locates a torch, Brugar peers into the dark hole, searching the darkness with his Dwarven vision though sees nothing untoward.

The Elf passes the lit torch to Ayas as she drops down lithely, and the rest of you follow suit, perhaps not so easily, but with little difficulty, Alasha'an leading the way, Hamin and Brugar next, with Yetta and Ayas just behind and Varl at the rear.

This temple was ancient at the time that Brugar's clan delved beneath the earth nearby at Rocky Gap in the Third Age of the Urthe, and the Dwarves were not troubled by the Goblins that then dwelled here (for those creatures dared no more than to waylay the occasional lone traveller) and thus cared not to seek this place out.

But if it was old then, it is older still now in this new Dark Age, and the steps worn so that the fine dust that lies upon them is kicked up into the stale air as you descend.  Indeed, so poor condition are the stones that Alasha'an soon gives up finding any traps, for any mechanism less durable than the stone itself has long since crumbled and broken ... though she does not stop looking.

The steps lead down into the heart of the stepped pyramid, and reaching the base, you find before you a chamber, perhaps thirty feet wide and sixty feet long.  The walls are stone blocks, once decorated by plaster pillars of which only fragments remain.

In the middle of the chamber is an open sarcophagus which the torchlight reveals to contain the dry bones of a man.  The lid lies broken in three pieces in the far corner of the room.

The dust on the floor reveals a trail from the base of the stairs to the far end of the western wall.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Before descending Brugar had fished out of his backpack his own flint and steel and 6 candles. He handed 3 candles each to Ayas and Varl, and gave Ayas the flint and steel.

"Just in case ye need 'em down there," he muttered.

Down at the bottom of the stairs he stepped past Alasha'an and moved round to the western side of the sarcophagus to keep an eye on the dry bones that lie within.

Hamin follows quietly on the trip into the heart of the pyramid, trusting Alasha'an to guide the way.

As Brugar makes his way towards the sarcophagus, Hamin mutters something quietly and then follows the dwarf into the chamber.  He doesn't stop, but follows the path in the dust across to the wall.  Treading carefully, he walks slowly, polearm ready should his passage disturb a guardian.

With Ayas and Varl well provisioned with the means to keep the lights on, you enter the sarcophagus chamber.

Brugar moves quickly to one side of the stone tomb, ready to deal with the bones of the dead man, should they stir from their rest, as Hamin leads the way to the south west corner, equally as vigilant as the Dwarf for signs of any threat.  The rest of the party follow on behind.

Reaching the wall and seeing the footprints in the thick dust go right up to the edge of it, the one-eyed warrior presses the point of his polearm against the stone, perhaps thinking to encounter an illusion ... but though the wall is solid enough, it shifts at his touch, sliding backwards with a grinding noise as it opens up to reveal a rough-hewn rock tunnel.

Ahead there lies a large cavern, over fifty feet in width and breadth, lit by a pulsing silvery glow from runes inscribed in a thirty feet diameter circle on the ground.  To the west and south, this dim light reveals other tunnels leading away into the darkness of the underground.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Looks like those dark elves told the truth," Alasha'an muses, peering down the tunnel at the glowing circle. "Fine pass when you just don't know who to distrust!"

"Of course, the portal might take us to the heart of the underdark, or the centre of a volcano or somewhere equally deadly and unpleasant.." she shrugs. "Or maybe we'll just find ourselves on a flying mountain!"

"Ready or not.." she pulls her dark blade from its scabbard and starts forwards.

"I vote flying mountain," Yetta mutters, following after the mischievous swashbuckler.

"So do we just... step inside?" she asks, shooting a questioning look mostly at Ayas.

"Only one way to find out." Hamin says in response to his daughter's question, and steps into the glowing circle."


OOC:  sorry I meant to post that yesterday.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:57, Sun 31 May 2020.

"Ye all got yer bracers on?" Brugar asks as he moves forward. Then he glances at his shield.

"Ye wanna let me go first to see if'n Ah can get through with me shield on? If'n Ah get through ye can all follow after me. Else Ah might 'ave to stow me shield afore we go."

"What happens if you try, and your shield breaks it, and then it just doesn't do anything anymore?" Yetta asks.  She shakes her head a little.  "I'm going with Dad.  I think you should try last, just in case, if you want to risk the shield."  She steps across the line after Hamin.

As she walks forward, she concentrates for a moment, and her appearance blurs and then shifts; hair bleaching white and seeming to add a few inches, skin darkening, her eyes lightening.  The bones under her face harden, even her eyes shifting to a sharper angle, and a slight sneer twitches up at the corner of her mouth.

A tiara flickers in on her head, bearing a spidery form in the metal lacing, while the sword at her side lengthens and shifts to look more like a staff.  Almost absently, she curls her fingers around what must be the hilt, but in a way that makes it look like she is indeed carrying the staff at her side.  Her outfit doesn't change very much, as she deems the black leathers still pretty suitable for the occasion, but it does seem to pull into itself a bit, showing a bit more of her now blue-black skin, more in keeping with drow fashions.

"I would say that portal is active always," the Elf tells Brugar, "and these bracers either grant permission to use it else set the destination.. most like the latter."

"Still best if you come last - I believe it will not, but if your shield should break it then what chance we have to catch this flying mountain us lost," he shakes his head at these words, considering the absurdity of what he says. "Best the rest of us pass through it first and brave what lies beyond even without you at our sides."

"Yes.. just step in," Ayas calls ahead to Yetta, blanching as she transforms, eyes widening though he forebears to utter any comment, "and pray we are doing the right thing .. sheer madness though it may be."

Hearing his daughter say she was coming along behind him, Hamin looks over his shoulder in time to catch the tail end of her transformation.  His one eye opens a bit wider than normal as he takes in the Drow following along behind him.  "Good job we all spotted that.  The next Drow we see is liable to finish up as diced meat."

Resolved now, one by one you step forward into the glowing circle of light.  As each enters the circle flares brightly, blindingly, as the one who just crossed over the threshold suddenly vanishes.

Many of you have experienced similar before and think not twice, and Ayas has not but knows the principles involved, though poor Varl has neither heard nor seen of the like in his life and can be forgiven for a moment or two's hesitation before he finds the courage to step over.

Brugar is last to enter ... and all are thankful that the shield he bears neither breaks the portal nor prevents the Dwarf from following on ...

... you find yourself buffeted by howling winds and struggling for breath besides, the rock that was all about you now replaced by open sky, the sun shining down upon you.

For here you are above the cursed mists that blanket the lands of the Urthe, standing in a rune-scribed circle that seems the twin of the the one somewhere far below beneath the stepped temple, set in the middle of a flagged courtyard perhaps three hundred feet in both width and breadth, surrounded with a railing beyond which you see only the roiling mass of insubstantial many-layered clouds.  In the distance you make out the curve of the walls of a tall stone tower, a door set at the base in one corner of this platform.

In the other corner you see the horse the dark elves spoke of, its ankle bound by chains, though it is no ordinary steed, rather a noble beast, with an alabaster coat and hooves shimmer with pale blue energy ... though it seems in sorry condition, rising painfully to its feet at your appearance and backing away in fear as far as the length of its chain allows it.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar squints for a moment in the bright sunlight but quickly steps out of the magic circle and puts it behind him as he glares at the tall stone tower. The horse barely warrants a single glance as far as the dwarf is concerned.

"Ah reckon as that might be yer 'tower unsurpassed'," he concedes. "So the next ward be inside of it somewhere. Pity Saega 'adn't figured out what the key may be. Still, we be needin' to get inside first anyways."

"You could land a mountain on this courtyard!" Alasha'an snorts, raising her voice against the howl of the wind.

Her eyes narrow as she sees the horse, the moreso as it shies away.

"I like horses," her words more threat than statement as she too steps out of the circle, heading towards the poor creature.

"I quite like horses as well." Hamin says following Alisha'an over towards the beast.

"And even if I didn't I would want to know why someone thought it was worth binding like that.  It is more than is required to hold a normal horse, and looks particularly uncomfortable for the creature."

"But Brugar is the dwarf to deal with the chain ...." he says looking across at his stockier friend.

"Chain?" Brugar queries as he looks around at Hamin's words.

"Oh, aye, Ah reckon Ah can fix that right enough, if'n ye reckon that beast ain't just gonna bolt as soon as it be free."

He walks after Alasha'an and Hamin, already searching in his backpack for hammer and cold chisel as he walks toward the horse.

"Does it matter if it does bolt?" hamin asks as he walks towards the horse muttering  "Its alright ....  we won't hurt you ... 

Yetta stands imperiously a short distance away, moving to a spot to look as though she is overseeing this operation.  She keeps an eye out for anyone ... well, anyone.

"Why d'ye reckon its 'ooves be all blue an' shimmery like that?" Brugar asks casually as he walks toward the horse.

"Probably electric." the old warrior comments casually.

Yetta keeps watch, though in a manner in keeping with the glamour she has adopted, as the rest of you make your way across the courtyard towards the strange horse, treading carefully as they are buffeted by the winds that sweep over the courtyard.

As you draw near, it becomes clear that the stone railing around the edge of the courtyard was not built with men in mind, for it towers above you, twelve feet or so tall, offering no security for any who might stray close to the edge of the stone flags, save where they might perhaps gain purchase on the thick stone pillars that support the rail atop.

The poor horse, by comparison, though bigger than a normal creature of its kind, is not unduly larger, and in terrible condition besides, panting and pawing at the stones beneath its glowing hooves in fear, the chain pulled tight.

Nor is the chain in any way ordinary, judging my the runes inscribed upon its links, though their purpose swiftly becomes apparent as you feel the magic weaken as you approach closely.  That lack does not dissuade Brugar, however for neither hammer nor chisel depend on magic but on strength and skill, and the Dwarf sets to and quickly proves that for all the power invested in them, they are no match for his determination and craft.

As the link Brugar is working on is cleaved by his tool's sharp edge, the creature vanishes.

"Well, Ah certainly weren't expectin' that!" he grumbles.

"Never mind, though. Let's see if'n that tower be just as simple to break open."

He packs away hammer and chisel as he turns to head towards the tower.

Hamin takes a step backwards in surprise as the horse disappears and then steps forward to feel the space where the horse was, just in case it had become invisible.  Then, almost as quickly, he looks outwards from the floating castle, to see if it is falling out of the sky.

Assuming all is as it seems, he nods at Brugar and follows the dwarf towards the tower.


OOC:  Sorry.  I thought I had posted that first paragraph on Monday.  My bad.

If the disappearance of the horse comes as a surprise, its equally sudden reappearance somewhat sixty feet to the south as you begin to make your way towards the tower is no less so.

The beast seems wary, but stands its ground, making no attempt to back away as it turns its muzzle towards you, regarding you with something akin to intelligence.

You freed me.  You are different to the others.  Even that one.  The creature stares directly at Yetta.

The voice in your heads sounds puzzled yet very grateful.

Who are you ?  Why are you here ?

Used to strange voices in his head, hamin looks first at Alsha'an, before realizing that the horse is back and talking to him  telepathically.

"That is my daughter. Hamin thinks back.  She doesn't always look like that.  Then realising that the beast might not be able to hear him, he switches to speaking normally.  "My name is Hamin.  My friends and I have a dispute with the people that look like her." he says nodding to Yetta, then concludes.  "Well, to be honest - them and most of their friends."

Brugar takes off his helmet and slaps his bald head vigorously with his other hand.

When Hamin speaks he stares at him then asks, "Ye be 'earin' it too?"

He looks at the horse for a moment then introduces himself too.

"Brugar Armbuster. Glad Ah could 'elp set ye free."

After another moment of staring at the horse he waves his hand in the direction of the cloudy sky above.

"That ain't right. All them clouds an' darkness ain't what the sky should look like. Not all the time like that. Don't s'pose ye'd know aught about that, would ye? Come to that, why was ye chained 'ere at all?"

They come, they go, they cared not for my plight ... you are the only ones who thought to aid me.

I am Rynnah and I am most pleased to meet you !

This tower should not be here.  Ezoran it is who trapped me and who resides here, Ezoran the Cruel, Ezoran the Deceiver, but I think this tower was not built by him, for all his magics, for he is of your kind Rynnah looks to Hamin and I think those who built it were something else entirely !

"Yes.  It looks like it was built for  a Giant, not a man."  Hamin says aloud so the others can hear him.  "Ezoran?" he muses, trying to recall the name. "And he uses magic?"

"Why did he  bind you here?" he asks Rynnah.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 17:38, Wed 01 July 2020.

Brugar listens thoughtfully to what Rynnah has to tell them.

"Reckon we might be payin' 'im a visit pretty soon. Good to know what we be up against," he acknowledges.

Ezoran bound me here because he is petty and cruel and it amused him to do so.

He told me that I would see the sky all around me and feel the wind in my mane, but I would never fly again.

Ezoran reeks of evil's taint - it covers him like a cloak.  I have seen little of his magics save those he used to trap me, but he boasted often of his power.  He has a pet, a demon that perches on his shoulder and whispers in his ear.

Brugar's comments lead the horse to speak more of what he has seen in the hope it may be of some use.

There was another who would come with Ezoran at times when he wished to witness my torment anew, though she never spoke.  Draxella he named her.  I know naught of her, for the cursed chain prevented me from knowing her.

Brugar listens to what Rynnah says, then looks at the tower.

"Ah don't s'pose ye remember 'ow 'e opens that there door, do ye? Like, does 'e say some sorta magic word an' it just opens on its own like? Did 'e ever say aught about where in the tower 'e dwells, like up high or upstairs or downstairs?

"Did ye get a good look at the tower afore ye were captured? Were there anything we can't see from 'ere, like another door or summat up on the top of it?" he asks.

"A demon who perches on his shoulder?  Have you ever seen it out on iys own?" Hamin asks, before following up on Brugar's question  "Or could you  take a look at the top of tower for us now?"

The horse tosses his mane.  I heard no word of opening - Ezoran ever seemed to open and close the doors to the tower as he came and went.  He boasted that I was the least of those he'd trapped and that he'd break me as he had broken them.  His demon was always at his side.

I have never entered that fell place, nor would I ever.  The skies are my home.

I paid little attention to the tower before ... you wish me to look for you ?  That I will gladly do ... I long to tread upon the air once more !

Backing away, the great horse leaps skyward, his hooves shimmering with blue energies as he gains height much as his land-dwelling kindred might power their way up a steep hill, circling around above you as he climbs higher and higher till he strides the air above the tower ... then descends at almost breakneck pace, hooves sparking as they strike the stone flags.

There is nothing.  His mind-tone is laden with regret. No openings of any kind, the roof a precipitous slope that affords no landing.

Brugar watches the flying horse with a look of awe and shudders as it hurtles back to the ground fast enough to break even dwarven legs.

"So, no other way in then. That door do look to be a sturdy 'un. Breakin' in ain't gonna be quiet."

Thank you, Rynnah. Hamin acknowledges the horses assistance silently, before turning to his friends.  "Anyone got a quieter way, of shall we let Brugar do the honours?"

Then turning back to the flying horse, he continues  "We will be going inside the tower shortly, as I said earlier, we intend to speak to the man and his associates ...  No, to put it more bluntly, we expect to fight with him and hopefully destroy him and his murderous troops.  One day the sun WILL return and the skies will be clear again!

Yetta gives her own nod to the horse, turning her attention back to the tower, and more to the point, the door.  "Probably worth giving quiet a chance," she shrugs.

First she'll just try opening it, because sometimes when people have flying fortresses only accessible by their own devoted followers they get lazy about that kind of thing.  But if it is locked - is it sized like the railings?  Does it have a lock that can be picked, or is it barred on the inside, or something else entirely?

That is good.  The great horse's approval of Hamin's words ring loud and clear in your minds.

I cannot enter. Rynnah's mane shakes as he physically shudders at the very thought. But my hopes go with you ... and I shall remain in the skies nearby, should you return to this platform and need me to bear you safely away.

Thus saying he takes to the skies once more, where you watch him, circling and revelling in his freedom as you turn to the door to the tower ...

The doors are about twenty-five feet high, looming like the face of a cliff ... but Yetta's instinct proves correct as they swing back silently and easily at her merest touch to a long corridor with walls and floor of stone, thirty feet long and high and illuminated with a dim light that runs the entire length, perhaps one hundred and fifty feet to an arched opening, though you can not see what might lie beyond.

"Oh, this doesn't have trap written all over it," Alasha'an mutters.

"Math's lot are guarding this portal.. so they're going to try to be clever about it, rather than battle it out. Which means were probably going to be really annoyed about the time we run into them."

The elf smiles as she slides her ancient blade from its scabbard.  "Looking forward to it already!"

"Riiight." Hamin agrees, "I'll go first ..." he says stepping through the doorway.

"It do got that giant feel to it, don't it? P'raps that be just the scale of the place though," Brugar grumbles as he follows Hamin through the doorway.

He adjusts his shield on his right arm and grips the handle of his enchanted (but disgracefully blunt) battleaxe in his left fist.

Hamin leads the way as you enter the Tower of Meneldorod, passing the threshold between the open doors into the passageway beyond.

You feel indeed as if you tread in the footsteps of giants for the passageway is thirty foot wide, the ceiling thirty feet above glowing dimly, lit by some magic, the sounds of your footsteps drowned out by the winds that scour the courtyard, though thankfully in here you are safe from the buffeting.

And the passageway seems every inch of its hundred and fifty feet ...

At the end you find the circular chamber you glimpsed from without, and as you peer through the twenty foot high archway that stands between chamber and passage, you marvel at the scale of the chamber before you, another hundred and fifty feet across, ringed with archways as the cardinal points of the compass, leading to further passageways and chambers beyond, each painted in bright colours.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... overview at top of map, detail at the bottom, markers showing the colour of each archway.

Brugar looks around at the seven coloured arches around the circular chamber and frowns.

"Wunnerful, that's like one for every day of the week. Reckon we might be 'ere a while. So, anyone got a favourite colour to start with, or d'ye just wanna go right an' work round the circle?"

Yetta glances to the right.  "Not sure I want to start with black," she admits.  "But if this is anything like that ridiculous `puzzle' with the figures we'll have to do them all anyway.  Which is not really a puzzle," she adds, because everyone's a critic.  "We seem to have started at violet - maybe go left and work our way down the rainbow?"

"That works for me." the old warrior shrugs as he agrees with his daughter.  I can't see anything to give us a lead, one way or the other.  Especially if these colours were selected by the original owners."

That the eight passages bear an unwelcome familiarity to the paths you arduously trod in the gardens that once were Inurien's domain but most recently served as bait, is not lost upon you ... but for now you see no other choice than to play whatever game Math's servants have set upon the board.

You enter the huge central chamber, dwarfed by the size of it, moving to the archway to your immediate left, painted in the deep dark blue of indigo, and peer through.

Perhaps to your disappointment, beyond lies no winding path or sun-burned desert, merely a short (by the standards of this structure at least) passageway, but thirty feet in length and breadth, leading to a single immense stone door.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Shrugging, Hamin leads the way to the door.  "In for a copper, in for a gold ..." the old warrior mumbles as he steps forwards.

“Aye, in fer a penny, in fer a pounding,” Brugar chuckles as he follows Hamin.

Hamin steps forward, followed first by Brugar and then by the rest of you ...

... only to find your senses besieged by a cacaphony of noise, voices of madmen and visions of the impossible !

OOC: Will Save DC17 please.

Hamin's hand come up towards his ears, in an  attempt to block of the sounds and visions, but with a pole-arm in his hands, they don't quite make it.  Fully exposed to the racket his face twists up as he scowls and grimaces at the same time.

08:47, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 16 using 1d20+5.  Will save?

Brugar gritted his teeth at the awful noise and insane images assaulting his senses and took another few steps forward to put himself alongside Hamin, axe and shield ready to punish anything more substantial that might assault the party.

OOC: Brugar Armbuster rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Will save.

Yetta winces under the onslaught, but then she catches a vision of something impossible and realizes none of it can be real.  Forcing herself to ignore it, she presses forward.

"What is it?!" Alasha'an looks on her companions with concern.

Most of you either manage to shake off the effects of the mystical onslaught upon your senses, or are entirely unaffected ... but Varl turns and flees while Hamin stands muttering and babbling incoherently, his polearm falling from his hands to clatter upon the stone flags.

Shaken, but unaffected, Ayas hurries after Varl, hoping to catch him.

Yetta gives Alasha'an a blinking look.  "You don't see that?" she asks, giving her head another small shake.  "Huh.  Maybe you can help Ayas catch Varl - Brugar and I can get Dad," she suggests, kneeling down briefly to pick up his polearm.  She reaches up to put her other arm across Hamin's shoulders, giving him a gentle push forward.  "Come on, Dad, just close your eyes and follow our lead," she says, softly, probably more for her benefit than his.

"Badle pig damon, das fine booger-bubby.  Hable wis-bang-boop"

"Aww, dwarven baby-talk! It be years since Ah've 'eard the like. Oo's a biggle booger-bubby den? C'mon longshanks, let's get ye outa 'ere to somewhere a bit quieter."

Brugar gets on Hamin's other side to help Yetta guide him out.

The elf's eyes narrow and her lips tighten as she looks towards Hamin, but pauses only a moment before nodding to Yetta's suggestion, sheathing her blade as she turns to chase after Ayas and Varl.

Though both Elves pursue Varl, neither are able to gain upon him as he races headlong towards the opposite side of the chamber.

Meanwhile, Yetta and Brugar are able to lead Hamin back to the central chamber, though the one-eyed warrior continues to babble incoherently.

Realising he cannot catch Varl, Ayas pulls up, choosing instead to rely upon his magic.  Pulling something from his pocket, he flicks it towards the man, engulfing him in a mass of sticky webs that stretch from floor to ceiling.

"Baran doodle, fix langir blick farkle!" Hamin continues babbling to himself.

Though Varl struggles, he is unable to escape the sticky strands that seemingly spring from nowhere to hold him fast.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

One problem solved, or at least shelved, Ayas turns to the second.

"They're both still afflicted then," the elf mutters. "I'd hoped perhaps that once removed from.."

He breaks off, brow furrowed, as he notes a further complication.

"That archway was blue before, was it not? Now it is violet!"

Ayas's observation is correct.  It seems that the circle of rainbow-hued archways have all moved one step clockwise.

"Burgle pik, tock tick."

"Be like it'll wear off soon enough. Give 'em a minute or two, maybe?" Brugar suggests.

He looks around at the arches and frowns at their changed coloration.

"Pity we ain't got no gnome nor 'alfling with us. Them little folks seem to like makin' maps all a time."

"Perhaps," Ayas looks hopeful. "If not, I might be able to dispel any enchantments that lie upon him."

The sorcerer looks to the painted archways. "Hamin babbles, Varl flees.. which suggests they are the victims of a spell of confusion which affects people in different ways but should not last for more than a couple of minutes."

Varl cries out in fear as he tears at the webs that engulf him, but Ayas spell still holds him fast ... as does the madness that holds Hamin in its thrall.

Casting a simple spell, Yetta tries to penetrate whatever it is that afflicts her father, but to no avail, as Hamin continues to babble incoherently, his gaze fixed one minute then wildly wandering the next.

Nor, despite Brugar's optimism, do either of the pair show any sign of improvement after a few minutes have elapsed ...

"P'you, P'you, Boney Mick grew.  Cup Bort, Dribble and Glub!" Hamin declares forcefully.

Brugar looks at Hamin for a moment then shakes his head sadly.

"Nay, lad. Bort, Dribble and Glub be good'uns but even the best o' lawyers be no 'elp to us 'ere."

Turning to the others he sums up the situation.

"Two down an' only four of us left. That be two-fourths of our numbers gone an' that be only the first room. We can't go on like this. D'ye reckon maybe it'll wear off if'n we get 'em away from this place? Take 'em back to that there circle an' get back down to temple an' see if they be theirselves again t'morrow?"

Yetta frowns a little, looking at Hamin worriedly.  "He's more than just confused," she says.  "I'm confused."  She turns slowly, looking at the gems.  "Ayas... have you ever heard of a spell that can drive someone insane?  Something about rainbows?  Like..."  She turns to the red gem and starts rotating slowly as she counts them off in her mind.  "Fire, acid, lightning... poison, probably...stone, madness!  And then... yeah!  Violet sent them to another plane.  I remember that one for sure."

"The prismatic spells?" Ayas suggests. "My teacher spoke of them, though I have never seen a casting. Until now.."

The elf frowns as Yetta lists the effects, nodding as he looks towards each painted archway in turn.

"If we are to suffer such each time we pass those stones then none of us will survive."

"There are only seven, though - the colours of the rainbow as you say - perhaps black is safe." Ayas shrugs. "If so, then we at least might seek the safety of the outer courtyard as Brugar says, while we consider our options. If the fates are kind, then perhaps it might even undo the effects on Hamin and Varl."

He grins at the dwarf. "I fear your optimism is rubbing off on me!"

"If I banish those webs, can you catch Varl before he flees?" he asks Alasha'an.

"Bet on it," Alasha'an tells Ayas. "Just wait till I'm in position."

The elf sheathes her dark blade and moves to the far side of the web, placing herself between Varl and the opposite arch.

"Ready!"

Hoping for the best, Ayas dismisses his spell..

While Yetta and Ayas discuss the spell that afflicts Varl and Hamin, and hazard guesses as to what trials the other painted archways will bring, Brugar keeps a careful and solicitous eye on the one-eyed warrior, suggesting it might be best to return to the temple via the portal until he can recover.

Seeing the need to capture Varl, Ayas has Alasha'an position herself on the far side of the stick strands of webs that he conjured forth, dropping them on the elf's command.

Varl struggles, but in his condition he is unable to avoid Alasha'an's clutches, though he does not come quietly.  Still, it takes her little effort to wrestle him over to the black painted archway that now leads to the exit tunnel ...

... but as they pass through, the pair vanish !

"Ibble, dibble, dobble ... pooo" Hamin opines sagely.

Brugar blinks, then sighs.

"Aye, well, Ah never were lookin' forward to growin' old anyway. 'Ow about ye, longshanks?"

With a firm hold on Hamin's arm he turns to Yetta and asks, "Ye comin' wid us, lass, or d'ye wanna stay 'ere an' try keepin' yer ol' dad outa trouble?"

He starts leading Hamin toward the black-painted archway.

Ayas doesn't like to dwell upon the many fates that may have befallen Alasha'an and Varl.. but even less does he like the thought of remaining behind, most probably to die in an attempt to pass any of the other archways, if what they fear is true, never mind what lies in the chambers beyond them.

"They probably teleported somewhere," the elf suggests with an optimism he does not feel in reply to Brugar.  "Hopefully somewhere nicer than here. Aye.. yes, we should follow."

For better or worse, you decide to follow Alasha'an and Varl through the black-painted archway ...

... and find yourself not in the entrance tunnel but instead in a smaller circular room, this one only ninety feet in diameter.  Behind you, the black painted archway leads back to the huge central chamber.  In the centre of the opposite wall is a massive door.

Alasha'an and Varl both turn about as you enter, the rogue no longer affected by the fear that set him to fleeing, though normal trepidation sits in its place.  Likewise, you are pleased to find that Hamin has recovered his senses now. 

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar looks at Hamin quizzically for a moment then grins. He releases his hold on Hamin's arm  and takes up his battleaxe once again.

"Well ... that was ... intereesting.  Where are we now?"

With Brugar leading her father through the door, Yetta's choice wasn't really a question, but she's certainly relieved to find everyone safe rather than, for example, vaporized. At Hamin's question, though, she frowns a little.  "We're in a smaller circular room," she answers.  "Can you see OK?"

"Oh, I can see all right.  I just don't remember getting here.  The last thing I remember was something about some lawyers prosecuting some firemen ...."

"Never ye mind, lad. Ain't no fault of your'n that yer noggin' ain't so rock 'ard as a dwarf's. Ye remember them doorways in ev'ry colour of a rainbow? We walked through th' indigo one an' the noise that 'it us drove ye loopy. Reckon as it only made Varl see things more clearly, though, cos 'e just turned an' ran! Reckon 'e'd still be runnin' if Ayas 'adn't stopped 'im. Ye was both in bad shape so we turned to take ye both outa there, but the doorway colours 'ad all changed an' the exit doorway were black now. We went through anyways but it's gone an' brung us 'ere to this chamber what we ain't seen afore. Dunno where we be yet. Reckon we might find out when we open that there next door, though," Brugar explained to Hamin.

The rogue seems less than happy with Brugar's recounting of his cowardice, though not so that he'd yet dare challenge the Dwarf, and somewhat mollified to learn that Hamin too was affected.

"It was as if all the fiends in the Pit were just beyond the door we approached an' were clawing at it, striving to get at us and rend our very souls !" Varl mutters sourly, somewhat relieved at the sight of daylight down the passage behind him.

He eyes the huge door with some trepidation, both for what unknowns lurk on the other side, and for the sheer size of the portal which does not bode well.

"Can we even reach the handle?" Alasha'an grins at Hamin, nodding her relief that his mind is back with them as she turns towards the next challenge.

"Based on what we've seen thus far, I'd certain like to meet the architect.."

Ayas too is glad that those most affected by the warding spells are now recovered.

"I fear that was but the first test," the elf cautions. "Mayhap this is the second. Perhaps a more physical barrier but no less effective."

Fishing a shard of broken glass from his pocket, the sorcerer peers at the portal.

OOC: Detect Magic

The door is wooden, a big over twenty feet in height and half that in width, with a handle set about half way up it.

Ayas studies the door, trying to discern its secrets.

"There is a spell upon it," Ayas notes as he peers through the glass. "Middling strength.. some form of Transmutation magic."

Brugar fishes his magical rope of climbing out of his backpack then orders it to snake up and tie onto the door handle.

"Do that mean it might transmute us to somewheres else, same as like that black painted doorway done?" he asks the mage.

"Or turn us into something different?" Hamin adds his own addition to Brugar's question.

As Brugar's rope touches the handle, the door vanishes, revealing a long wide corridor lit by some unseen source, stretching off into the distance ...

Map of the proceedings updated ...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:32, Thu 15 Oct 2020.

Hamin looks at the others, then shrugs - before stepping through the doorway and into the corridor.

Brugar fist-punches the air in delight as the door disappears, but manages to restrain himself from shouting for joy as well.

He coils the rope and stows it away as he follows Hamin through the doorway.

The responses of Brugar and Hamin might be considered most typical ... but the sheer scale of this place soon pushes such thoughts from your minds.

Cautiously you continue down the passageway that at thirty feet in width easily matches that of a not insubstantial room, and you estimate that you have travelled at least ten times that before this passage built to the scale of giants turns first left for near on a hundred feet before then turning right for but a paltry thirty feet or so, ending in another of those oversize doors.

Brugar uses his rope once more ... and once more the door vanishes as the rope but brushes the handle.

Beyond a stone stairway leads down ... but what steps, with treads three feet in width and two feet height such that all six of you could stand upon but one step if you so chose !

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:17, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

Brugar lifts his helmet by its spike and scratches his bald head.

"This place be a right puzzle, ain't it? The scale of it an' bein' up 'ere on a flyin' mountain makes me think it be built for cloud giants, but why'd the like of cloud giants be wantin' a cellar? Ah don't trust none of it."

He takes the enchanted rope again and fastens it around his waist then hands the other end to Hamin.

"Brace yerself, longshanks. Ah'm no lightweight!"

Then with axe in hand he jumps down to the first step.

Hamin quickly fastens his end of the rope around his own waist and leans back ready for a jerk.  If there is a ridge between the pavers, he will try to brace his heel against it.

The elf shrugs and joins Brugar on his descent, though of course she manages it with considerably more elegance and panache.

"Magic boots," Alasha'an grins at the dwarf. "Never go for a ride on a flying mountain without them."

"You're worried about what use they'd have for a cellar?" Ayas asks Brugar. "I'm far more concerned about meeting giants.. or whatever traps Math's followers might have set to catch trespassers!"

"Those trick doors are an awful waste of magic," the adept muses, "someone created them for no other reason than they could do so. Which suggests that whatever they have set up to deter us will likewise use more force than is required to take prisoners - likely they care not for rhyme nor reason, just ending whatever threat we might pose."

"Though I have been told I can be overly pessimistic."

"Bats in the belfry, rats in the cellar," Varl mutters a line from a song from his long-ago childhood.

After being ensorcelled before, the old rogue is more cautious than ever.. and much concerned by the devil-take-it attitudes of both dwarf and elf, never mind giants who may or may not be real.

The descent of the stairs, despite Brugar's precautions and Varl's misgivings, proves merely more strenuous than usual and you all eventually find yourselves at the bottom, where it opens out into another abnormally wide passageway.

To the east of you, the passage continues another thirty feet before terminating in a dead end.  Seeking something more useful, you follow it to the west, perhaps a hundred and twenty feet in all before you arrive at an intersection.

Thirty feet north of you the passage opens up into a room, a typically huge one by what you can judge of the dimensions of this giants' fortress.  From where you stand you can see a strange cloud pillar in the centre of the room, undulating strangely, but otherwise stationary.

To the south, the passage continues at least ninety feet.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

It is Hamin's turn to go in front again, so he walks along the large corridor towards the large room, checking for  ambushes or other issues as he goes.

At the doorway to the chamber he stops and looks in, and considers  the cloud-pillar speculatively,   "How do you think they keep this thing in the air?" he asks his friends casually.

Brugar peers into the chamber for a long moment before his face suddenly lights up as inspiration strikes.

"Aye, of course! That be why they've got a cellar. To 'old all them cloud giant farts! That be what be keepin' this ruddy great rock aloft, right?"

He looks so proud of himself, too!

Somehow, Hamin isn't convinced by Brugar's logic.

"Or, perhaps, the cloud pillar is some type of trapped elemental?  Even if it is a column of farts, I don't think I want to disturb it ...."

"Especially then," Yetta agrees, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

The mage eyes the undulating pillar, considering his companions' suggestions.

"If anything were to disrupt whatever keeps this mountain in the air, I do not believe we could make it back to the portal before it came crashing to the Urthe below."

"Perhaps we should try the other way?"

The elf nods. "Math's portal was supposed to be hidden in a 'tower unsurpassed', was it not? And here we are, in the cellars." She'll bow to Brugar's experience in regard to matters cellar-ish.

"Stairs leading up would be favourite.. though I suppose cellars still count, if we're still in the tower, that is."  She shrugs.

"There is very little that would surpass even the cellars of this tower." Hamin agrees.  "But we should probably check the rest of this cellar level while we are here.  After all there might be a set of stairs upward, that avoids the  ...  errr ... interesting chambers on the level above."

After his strange, dreamlike, 'absence' earlier, Hamin would much rather find another way, if there is one.

"Right. Leave them there cloud giant farts alone an' look for stairs back up again. Let me see. Stairs down was back that way, so tower prob'ly be back that way too. Big ol' tower though, so could be spread in lotsa directions up there above us. Still, Ah reckon back that way be best place to look, or round to the right past them cloud giant farts. Reckon as it be worth 'avin' another look at that dead end corridor back there. Wasted effort buildin' that unless it leads to summat else like a secret stairway or summat," Brugar suggests.

Retracing your steps, you turn first to the dead end to the east of the stairs by which you descended into this level which you are calling the cellars, and while Brugar is at first enthused by his discovery that the stonework here (while still on a scale suited to Giants, not Dwarves) is less finished than what other masonery you have seen thus far, he is eventually forced to conclude that it does not mask any hidden ways, but is merely the point at which the builders stopped their excavations, perhaps intending to return to it at some later date.

Turning back you continue down the southern hallway (for corridor seems too small a term to describe these sweeping passages that are akin to grand rooms by your reckoning), pausing between equally wide openings to east and west, the former leading to a room seemingly filled with racks of charts and maps, the latter to a nigh on three hundred foot diameter semi-circular chamber, the far wall of which is engraved with a large map beneath a sea of stars above in which you can pick out the familiar constellations of the night sky.

The hallway has another opening to the east a bit further on which leads to a long passage, and in the distance you can just about make out more clouds at its end.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Ayas stopped in his tracks and stared at the starry expanse covering the wall. He felt some strange sense of comfort at the sight of the various constellations. His imprisonment had been long and he still felt a little numb, his coping mechanism to help him avoid the anguish he felt even now. And these stars more than almost any other’s face or smile felt like home.

Ayas had no sense of the proper names of the constellations, relying on the names he and the other gypsy children had come to call the various shapes and forms they recognized in the night skies of Ayas’s childhood.

Turning to the others he asked a couple of questions, “Does the mural mean something more than that these giants missed their previously roofless nights?

As he waited for an answer from the others, he excitedly added, “I can make myself a bat or a small bird and fly ahead to scout out the long hallways ahead. Maybe a bird’s eye view is what we need to make sense of these cellars.”

"Perhaps it was a bit breezy for them out in the courtyard." Alasha'an suggests dryly.

The elf is reluctant to quash Ayas's obviously excitement, but she voices a warning.

"I'd rather we stuck together.. either the giants or the new owners of this place are too fond of teleport spells for my liking. If we lose you we might never find you again!"

Having little interest in the sky, at the best of times, Hamin looks at the mural blankly, the constellations there meaning next to nothing to him.  With a shrug to answer Ayas's question about the meaning of the starts, the old fighter makes his way across to the racks and pulls one of the charts and looks at it briefly.

"I think we should stay together, we aren't in a rush ..."

Ayas smiled at the responses from his new traveling companions. “I wasn’t planning on going too far ahead, but it is probably safer if I let you lead the way.”

He paused and took a look at the charts and maps to see if there was anything pertinent to their current mission or for any signs of what plans might have been made in this room in the past.

Brugar was intrigued by the question that Ayas had posed and he stood there staring at the half dome of stars and the map of the land below them.

"Ah be wonderin', d'ye reckon this might 'ave summat to do with 'ow they make this 'ere great lump'a rock fly to where they be wantin' to go, or to keep track of where it is now?"

He looks at the map to find the spot where that pyramid temple was located by the Snake river, then looks above it to see if there is perhaps some sort of marker for where the flying mountain is located.

From the wide corridor, it is difficult to see too much detail of the map on the far side of the chamber to the west, though the scale would seem insufficient to allow such fine detail as either Ayas or Brugar desire, though the Dwarf notes that the whole seems to glitter somewhat in the dim light, much as a vein of precious stone might far below the ground when viewed in the flickering light of a lantern.

There is nothing else in the room that would suggest any method of controlling the mountain's passage.

The chamber to the east is even less enlightening for all the maps there are rolled and stored in the rows of racks.

"Might be worth a closer look at later," Brugar mutters to himself as he turns away from the star-studded, half-dome chamber.

"Let's see what be waitin' for us down that next 'allway," he suggests, pointing down the southern hallway to where another great hallway leads off toward the east.

"Indeed." Hamin agrees, and leads the party along the path Brugar has indicated.

OOC:  Sorry guys.  I got myself well over extended these last 2-3 weeks.

Ayas kept pace with the others but fiddled with his pouch and pulled out a tiny strip of cured leather. He rubbed it intently as he walked and an aura surrounded his body, “Perhaps that will keep any stray blows from hurting me too badly. Aye, we should proceed, with caution.”

OOC: casting Mage Armor (probably should have done that a while ago, but just wanted to get that in place.)

Heading further south down the wide hallway, you pass another opening to the right, again struggling to make the word 'corridor' suit a space of such dimensions.

Though you struggle to see in the ever present dim light, it seems that second hall leads to another room of immense proportions, though the entrance is over two hundred feet from where you stand.

To the south looms a similarly huge chamber, if chamber it be, for what walls it has seem made of clouds, though the floor than winds through it seems solid enough stone.  Like the room at the northern end of the hall, it too has an undulating pillar of cloud-stuff at its centre.


OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar grumbles softly to himself as they keep on walking down the giant hallway to the cloudy chamber.

"Ah wish them clouds could talk. We've seen nought else in or under this accursed tower that even draws breath, so far."

"Ach.  It looks like we aren't going to find anything to bypass that chamber after all.   Shall we head back up the stairs we know about, and take our chances?"

A wicked grin crossed Ayas’s face and he dipped his hand in his belt pouch and fished out a small circular shaped piece of glass, ringed a skinny, delicate bronze metallic strip. He held the glass in front of his left eye for a minute and carefully and slowly turned in a full circle surveying the cloud and the room they were in.

You pause on the threshold of the southern chamber, allowing Ayas to examine both the chamber before you and the hall you now stand in. 

The more perceptive members of the party hear the faint sound of footsteps in the distance ...

Turning, you see a figure standing at the junction of this passage and the eastern hall that leads to the stairs.  It pauses for a moment, obviously surprised at seeing anyone here, before it begins to cautiously move towards you.

Hamin moves to the front of the group, not because he is the best talker, but he is a good doorstop if it is needed, "Hello." He says to the strange figure.

Brugar turns at the sound of Hamin's voice and moves to join him, stopping a pace behind and to the left of Hamin. For once in his life he remains quiet, leaving it to Hamin or someone else to handle the greetings.

“Hmmm... I would have sworn those clouds were magic.” Ayas mutters quietly to himself and those around him. At the sight of another person, Ayas lets the bigger, stronger members of his exploring party take point. His fingers slipped into his belt pouch again, ready to pull the necessary materials to defend himself should the need arise.

The elf grins at Ayas. "It should have been a safe bet.. but perhaps this is a naturally-occurring flying mountain!"

Like Brugar, Alasha'an doesn't move to the fore, choosing instead to lean against the wall with a nonchalance that is not put on at all, expecting the arrival of the approaching figure to result in bloodshed sooner or later.

The figure as it draws nearer, turns out to be a woman, garbed in a cloak and boots.

She pauses again as Hamin moves to the fore, then, gathering whatever courage was needed, comes closer, head held high as she tries to show that she is not afraid of you.

She stops before the one-eyed warrior, choosing to address him, looking neither left nor right, the thin cloak she holds tight about her for warmth is torn and stained, her boots badly scuffed and worn, her long blonde hair unkempt, her eyes haunted.

"Wh .. who are you ?  Are you looking for the Master ?" she asks, her voice betraying her nervousness.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated...

Hamin takes note of the woman's appearance, and decides to take it at face value.  However, he chooses to ignore the first part of her question, although he responds quietly and with courtesy.  "Yes, we are.  So tell me, who are you, and what do you do here?"

The glass lens, still in his hand, Ayas went ahead and peered at the woman before him thru the glass hoping to see any magical aura’s she might be emitting. He kept quiet, hoping the woman would be focused on the bigger bodies between him and her.

OOC: might as well cast detect magic if I can get away with it without calling attention to myself.

Brugar lowers his weapons, grins and nods agreement with Hamin's words.

The woman braves a small smile in the face of Hamin's solicitous reply, somewhat emboldened by the not unfriendly greeting, but obviously uncomfortable in the presence of such well armed strangers.

"I ... I'm Draxella.  I do ... just as I am told," she answers bitterly.

"I am a prisoner here and must do whatever the Master commands," Draxella continues. "I have some skill in the arts of magic and so I am forced to assist him in his foul experiments."

"Ahh.  Hmm." Hamin pauses, not really sure of where to take this.  This sort of questioning isn't really his forte, but drawing himself up straight, his tone slips somewhat, into that of an officer talking to a subordinate.  Not harsh, but making it clear who is in command. A tone that Yetta can probably remember from her childhood.

" OK Draxella, I have some questions for you.  How did you come to be a prisoner here, and what are your master's foul experiments?"

Brugar grimaces slightly at hearing Draxella is a prisoner. He looks like he has a lot more questions to ask but after a moment or two he clamps his mouth shut and waits for the answers to Hamin's questions.

Ayas kept the lens in his hand but now had a few questions of his own and while he respected the directness of Hamin, his questions needed to be answered with some urgency, “There is magic all about you, an aura, so to speak. Presumably the Master is connected to you somehow through the magic, or, to be more precise, you are connected to him. Tell me, can he see us now, hear our words, know of our presence?”

The woman turns her head towards Ayas, but it is Hamin's questions she answers first, undoubtedly due to the tone of authority in his voice.

"I was his prisoner long before he came to this place," she tells the one-eyed warrior, "and what magic I have I learned from him.  There are no depths he will not delve in his quest for knowledge.  Most recently, he has been trying to find out how to control this mountain.  Its former owner ... did nor prove amenable, so now he seeks to wrest that information from the giant's pet."

"Aye," she says, turning to Ayas, bitterness tinging her words.  "It amuses my Master to bedeck me in magical trappings.  The cloak and boots I wear let me pass unseen and unheard that I might not disturb him, these wrist guards," she lets her cloak fall open to show her arms on which she wears leather bracers, "and my robe provide some minor protection if by some mischance, or failure on my part, his experiments should go awry.  These rings," one on each hand, "further protection and some measure of control over the spirits of the air that I might command them as he commands me."

"This blade ..." she touches the hilt of a sheathed dagger at her waist cautiously, making no attempt to draw it and as carefully moves her hand away again after "... I know not what magics lie upon it."

“She tells the truth, she is adorned in more magic than any of us... At least one of the items is very strong, though it’s hard to discern which one, for now.” He turns his mind back to the woman, “The giant’s pet? What exactly is a pet befitting a giant?”

"Probably a flying horse." Hamin responds dryly to Ayas's question, "But keep looking,  you might find out a bit more ..." he adds before turning back to Draxella.

"Before he came here?  So why were you a prisoner in the first place?" he asks more conversationally, "And how long has your latest master been here?"

Then he pauses,  allowing the others to ask questions of their own.

"And how does he control you?" Yetta adds.  "Just the fact that you're talking to us, I assume you'd like to be free.  Have you ever tried to escape?  How can we help?"

"I am Ezoran's prisoner because it amuses him," Draxella replies. "I had some skill and much potential - enough to assist if not enough to threaten him.  We have been here a few months, I suppose, though one day is much like another."

"Those that were here before us ... in their meddling they nearly brought this mountain down and paid for their failure with their lives."

"The flying horse ?  Another creature in whose captivity he takes delight, but that poor beast merely strayed where it shouldn't. No, the giant had befriended a creature of the air, an elemental dragon whom my Master believes knows the secrets of this place."

"Freedom ?  I dare not even dream of it.  If I fled Ezoran would find me ... and I have no way off this rock.  My Master is very careful in what components he lets me have - certainly nothing that might harm him or allow me to escape !"

"You would help ?  Then swiftly leave before he discovers you here and becomes angry !"

Ayas didn’t know what to think. The woman was carrying quite a few magical items, most would be considered minor but two were strong. “May I see the blade you carry and that ring? Your master may have given you more strength than he let you know.”

"Leave?  We have only just got here, and we need to have a word with the master of this flying castle.  I don't think we will be leaving quite yet.  But perhaps we ought to have a word with the dragon of the air first?"

Then as an afterthought, he turns back to the group.  "Can any of you speak to dragons?"

The woman looks terrified at both suggestions.

"I do not know I can trust you," Draxella tells Ayas, "if you were to take these things from me, things given to me by the Master's own hand, and I was forced to explain myself ... he would be most displeased !"

"I know only that the Master has the beast caged in his private quarters," she tells the one-eyed warrior.  "There I am forbidden to go !"
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:35, Thu 14 Jan 2021.

"OK, then, I suppose we had better go speak to the man himself.  What did you say his name was?" he asks Draxella.

Ayas nodded, and said, “I have no intention of harming you, I only wish to know the magic in those two items. They emanate a strong aura.”

"Fas'natin'!" Brugar exclaims, softly by his usual standards. "What sort of a giant was it what lived 'ere, lass? Yer Master must be a powerful mage to defeat a powerful giant single-handed. Ah look forward to meetin' 'im. Be 'e one of them mages what specialises in a particular type of the magics, or be 'e a master of all types of the magics? We wouldn't wanna offend 'im by accidentally insultin' 'im, like, so what can ye tell us about 'im, lass?"

"Those that came to this place before, they were able to subdue the giant," Draxella clarifies for Brugar, "though I doubt not that my Master ... Edoran," she adds for Hamin's benefit, "could have bested him."

"The giant was named Imperion," she adds hoping to be helpful, "a giant of the clouds."

"Edoran is a master of glamours and illusions, she tells the Dwarf, pulling her thin cloak about her as she eyes Ayas warily.

"He is cruel, even by the standards of the Seekers, and interested in little but his work."

She weighs her options, her distress growing.

"It seems I have little choice but to bring you to him.  Though I fear he will punish me once you are slain," she looks wretched.

Ayas took the strange looks she was giving him as a rejection of his attempts to examine her magical items a bit further.

“I am game to meet your master if the rest of my friends here are. Is there anything we could offer you to allow you to trust that our intent is not to bring you any harm?”

"The Seekers, followers of Math Mathonwy. So 'e do be one of them," Brugar mused, obviously not surprised. "Be it just ye and 'im 'ere lass, or 'as 'e others 'ere to 'elp 'im too?"

Having no more questions, at the moment, Hamin waits for a response to Brugar's question.

"Perhaps it is less a question of trust in your intentions than in what you seem about to provoke," the woman replies to Ayas, resignedly.

"I am sorry, but I believe the Master will kill you ... I just hope and pray that his anger is not thence directed at me."

"I do not know for certain, but I believe there are no others," she tells Brugar, "save for Ezoran's  pet demon named Pilthet who is with him always."

"Perhaps you should show us the way to your master's private quarters, then?  I would like to speak with this dragon that he keeps there.  And how he keeps it restrained. You do not have to accompany us inside, unless you wish to."

Hamin says, wondering whether they may be able to recruit the dragon as an ally.

Ayas nodded his head acknowledging the woman's reluctance to share any further information with them.

"So we are off to fight the master, his pet dragon and what else? We best be ready for a fight if we are going up against a dragon. I might have a few surprises in store for them both."

Brugar grinned.

"Ah be ever ready," he assured Ayas.

"Aye, let's go 'ave a chat with the man and the beast."

Draxella bows her head to the inevitable.

"I will take you to his door," she agrees, "but I will accompany you no further.  For that betrayal he will punish me, but should I raise my hand against him he would never forgive and my death would be slow and painful."

"I hope you have made your peace with whatever gods you pray too ... and for what little it is worth, I wish you luck."

Bidding you follow her, the woman turns back, retracing her steps as she passes by both star-scribed and map rooms to take the eastern corridor and the stairs leading to the level above.

Many times have you walked down dark and narrow passageways, alert for inevitable dangers ... but this is something new as you trail through wide lit halls, footsteps echoing.

At the top of the stairs, Draxella continues, following the wide corridor as it turns and turns again, her fingers trailing along the northern wall ...

... she stops, about half way down, and turns to face the wall, then, with a small smile and a deep breath she steps through it.

You follow ... to find a similarly wide passage stretching out before you.

"An illusion," Draxella mutters, bobbing her head as she recognises the needlessness of her words.

Long by normal standards, the passage leads but a hundred or so feet to end in a huge wooden door.  Once more the handle stands about half way up it, but the woman ignores it, merely touching her hand to the wood causing it to vanish.

Beyond the room widens, like a bottle, the narrow neck thirty feet or so across opening out to around seventy-five feet, and perhaps twice that in length.  In the centre of the huge chamber is a grand statue of an armoured and sword wielding warrior, ten feet high, though bit as it is, it seems almost lost in this room built by and for giants.

There are doors in the centre of the east and west walls, and an immense tapestry hanging on the north wall, depicting a man in a hooded cloak, his face hidden in shadows.

Draxella crosses the chamber pausing before the tapestry for a moment before reaching out gingerly to touch the foot of the man, which causes a loud grinding noise to issue forth from the north west corner.

Pulling back the tapestry, Draxella reveals an opening in the wall beyond, where a section of it has swung back.

And beyond lies a corridor with wide stairs rising to the level above.

"There," she says, eyes wide with fear.  "There you will find Ezoran."


OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Before they enter the room, or even move to the door, Ayas holds out a small metallic shield he has been carrying in his pocket and casts a shield spell in front of him. An invisible shield of force now protects most of his body. He nods his head as if to say, let’s go.

Brugar pauses beside Draxella long enough to shake her hand. Looking up at her he murmurs a few words.

"Thank ye, lass. All will be well."

"Thank you." Hamin echoes Brugar's words and reaches out to touch her reassuringly on the shoulder. Then looks towards the others.  "Do you think I should knock, or just walk straight in?" He asks.

Ayas smiles at Hamin and says, “I think we can ignore courtesy today and just barge right in.”

Ayas casts a spell of protection upon himself as both Brugar and Hamin offer words of comfort to the young woman.

Draxella peeks around the door, watching you nervously as you walk down the wide hallway to the base of the stairs.  Once more you are reminded that this place was the abode of giants as you face steps thirty feet wide, each tread three feet in width and two feet in height, rising into darkness.

Hamin is the first to step up ... then immediately backs up as a voice booms out from nowhere.

"COMPANY IS COMING !"

Something makes Brugar look towards Draxella, the Dwarf's eyes widening as he spots a cruel smile upon her face, words of magic tripping off her lips as she gestures and a ball of fire explodes in your midst as she ducks back into the chamber behind her. 


OOC: Fireball 33HP damage, Reflex Save DC16 for half damage.

Map of the proceedings updated ...

OOC:  Can you remind me of scale on the map :)

OOC: The "corridor" you're in now is thirty feet wide, as is the staircase before you, which puts the secret door that Draxella just ducked back through about 75 feet away.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:33, Sun 14 Feb 2021.

As soon as he sees the tiny ball of fire that Draxella hurled down the corridor at them Brugar leaped to intercept it and block it with his shield.

OOC: Brugar Armbuster rolled 27 using 1d20+8.  Reflex save vs spell.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:36, Sun 14 Feb 2021.

Hamin has a look of shocked surprise on his face as Draxella releases the fireball, only a moment beforehand, he had decided that she was completely trustworthy - and now this.  However, he only hesitates for a moment, before he runs back towards the door that she left by, loathe to leave an enemy behind them.  Anyway, who knew what was up those stairs?  It might just be the exit to the roof, and the  warning set for visitors coming in that way.  And there is probably another door behind that tapestry ....


OOC: I MUST put more points into sense motive!
Double move towards Draxella's door.

Yetta rolls her eyes as the warning is shouted.  "I knew we sh--" she gets out before everything explodes in fire.

Ayas was roasted by the fireball as he had apparently been the center of the woman’s casting. He guessed he deserved it for not insisting on taking all of the magical items the woman possessed. He was burned badly and he doubled over in pain.

OOC: I failed and took full damage which nearly killed me. I will use a charge of my healing belt now and hope that I roll well.

21:12, Today: Ayas Rocan rolled 10 using 2d8.  Healing belt.


This message was last edited by the player at 03:13, Mon 15 Feb 2021.

Brugar moves quickly ... but the fireball is already blossoming.  At least the Dwarf's leap serves to allow him to avoid the worst of the blast. 

While Alasha'an moves even faster, her instinct is not to try to intercept it but to get clear ... which she achieves in remarkable fashion, evading the flames entirely !

The rest of you are not so lucky.

The one-eyed warrior and his daughter are at least are protected by magic and emerge unscathed from the blast, though Ayas is badly burned and urgently attempts to heal himself to assuage the terrible pain of his wounds.  Varl fares much worse and as the flames die down they leave only his charred corpse behind.

Racing for the open door, Hamin has but a moment to catch a glimpse of Draxella walking calmly away, heading for the southern opening and already beyond the statue, when the wall before him shimmers and the door vanishes leaving him looking at a blank stretch of stone.

But this is not the end of it ... the air around you starts to thicken and becomes misty, limiting your view to around five feet, though Brugar and Ayas are close enough to the stairs enough to see them fill with webs, blocking both sight and passage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:46, Sun 21 Feb 2021.

Hamin swears loudly and includes a few choice descriptions of Draxella, but reaches out to push aganist the new wall.  After all, she might have been telling the truth when she spoke of the mage here using illusions - and he still isn't clear yet that she is the Mage.  She probably is, but there might be two of them ...

Hamin's hand meets no resistance as it passes through the wall ...

"This way ..." Hamin calls as he steps through the wall, careful to  check for signs of attackers as soon as he is able to see into the next chamber.

The elf looks around at the sound of Hamin's voice, but the fog frustrates her attempt to do locate him or any of her companions. Rising lithely to her feet she calls out.

"Everybody still in one piece?" and "Where are you?" towards where she heard Hamin's voice.

Hamin grunts.

Still weak, Ayas says, “Aye, I am still alive but the fireball nearly killed me. And it appears it killed Varl. That wasn’t the only trap either, Draxella or her master have cast a very potent spell that will slow us down significantly. The fog is just the first issue. We will encounter webs in the stairways and the potential for confusion at all of the passages with more than one direction. And all of the doors are now locked magically. There could be other issues as well but we will encounter them as they happen. Be ready. Be vigilant. And someone please heal me.”

Yetta looks sadly down at Varl's remains.  She quickly kisses the ring on her left hand and whispers, "Thanks, Mom."

She looks up at Ayas's final last stated request.  "Oh!"  She digs briefly in a pocket and brings out a wand.  "I can do that.  Maybe.  Probably.  Okay," she holds it up lightly and flicks it towards him.  "Something... something Diancecht?"

She looks at him hopefully.  "Feel better?  I was kind of expecting sparkles or something, honestly."  She looks at the wand and gives it a small shake.

Brugar curses loudly and heads toward Hamin's position as fast as he can, running his left hand along the wall to keep track of where he is heading in the fog. When/if he reaches the opening he will lean through and reach out to try to locate Hamin without losing track of where that opening is as well.

"Where be ye, Longshanks?" he calls softly.

"Back where we came in ...."  Hamin replies, hoping that the sound of his voice will be enough to give people direction.

Though Yetta tries to heal Ayas, she cannot loose the magic contained within the wand and is forced to settle for helping the mage to the relative safety of the previous chamber.

Hamin's voice suffices to guide you (and perhaps the fog making the wall that much harder to see helps too) as you make your way to where the opening was and one by one pass through the illusion, led by Alasha'an and with Brugar bringing up the rear, the Dwarf's fingers telling the tale as wall gives way to open air beneath his touch though his eyes tell him different.

On the other side you are reunited with the one-eyed warrior ... and find the fog left behind you, though there is no sign of Draxella.

And the statue, which stood silent watch when you entered with the woman turned traitor now turns in your direction and begins to lumber towards you ...


OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Once inside the other room, Ayas said quietly and quickly, “Give me the wand, I am good with those sorts of things.”

He then turned to face the walking statue and considered his options before casting a spell. He hoped he wasn’t wasting it, but he drew a tiny piece of spider web and held it before him and within seconds, webbing sprouted from the walls, floor and ceiling to grab at the moving statue.

OOC: I will cast Web. Maybe that will hold off the statue for a few rounds.

Brugar clutches his battle axe tightly as the statue approaches and is obviously surprised when the mass of webs suddenly engulfs the statue.

“Er, right, where to now” he asks.

"We either chase after her and hope nothing comes after us from the stairs or leave her at our backs and head on up," the elf suggests, her face showing she doesn't like either option.

"Or we divide and conquer," this no more pleasing than the rest.

"Sorry," she grimaces sympathetically at Ayas. "I can't help you.. unless any of those potions we got from the Sentinels are healing draughts?" Alasha'an raises a hopeful eyebrow at Yetta.

Like Brugar, Hamin's first thought is to defeat the statue - although he pauses when the webs appear, then moves to one side, to see if he can get a flanking position, should the thing break through the webs.

"First things, first!" He mutters in response to Alasha'an's summation of their choices.

Ayas does not wait upon Yetta's reply ... instead the Sorceror takes inspiration from the warding spell to conjure another mass of sticky, binding webs, this time under his control.  Though the scale of the room is too great for the walls to provide anchors, floor and ceiling suffice perfectly, and though the statue tries to turn aside, it moves far too slowly and is engulfed.

Statue ... you've seen and moreover fought such animated constructs before, and this one is somehow different.  If anything its movements seem more like those of a possessed corpse, with an animating spirit that is familiar with the trappings of flesh, though not of the body it currently occupies.

No, mere statue this, then, enchanted to fight ... this is something darker, a spirit bound into a body made of stone, not of flesh.

A Golem.  Immune to all but the most powerful spells, able to shrug off blows that would fell an Ogre.  Relentless in the pursuit of whatever task their creator assigned to them.

And yet the simple spell that Ayas cast proves a wise choice indeed, for the creature is trapped in the webs he summoned ... for the moment, as you judge they'll not hold something so powerful for o'erlong ...

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar still hesitates, uncertain what his companions want to do next.

"We gonna go after that tricky little witch, or what?" he asks.

Ayas looked at Brugar with a bit of an odd, yet clever expression and said, "Well I think we need to deal with the Golem stuck in my web first. He's not likely to be bound for long."

Hamin, too, is caught in two minds.  "She may well be the boss woman." Hamin suggests.  "Although I am not keen on leaving that thing behind us.  A witch to the fore, a golem to the rear ....  and I suspect there is another door behind this tapestry as well ..."

"Sorry," Yetta says, holding the wand out to Ayas if he still wants it right now.  "I don't know a lot about golems.  Does anybody know how they work?  I mean, if I made myself look like her, could I order it to stop?"