Lathan takes a seat near Old Grizzler while he and the others talk. When the dwarf calls out, he perks up and looks toward the bar to see who this Heldig is.

Hanging back, Jinx flinches visibly at Rissa's blunt words. Gaining a more even hand on her reactions the gnome moved to a chair next to Lathan. Once up in the double-sized chair, Jinx absently swings her feedback and forth as they wait to see who Old Grizzler has in mind.

"We would meet them."

Rissa answered, holding the man's gaze if he chose to offer it.

When Old Grizzler had called out, Heldig was finishing up with the barkeep.

Sliding a few coins to the man, the dwarf collected up the drinks and made his way back toward the table.

He set the tankards down upon the table, one of the drinks was piping hot.  Steam rose off of it and curled into the air.  A pungent herbal tea.

"The tea took longer than I would have liked, old friend."  Heldig said, by way of apology.

"Ah,"  He said, his eyes lighting up.  "This must be the group you had gone on about."

His hair was an ashen gray, and his beard was uncharacteristically short.  Along his forearms and creeping up onto his neck, he bore the mark of his clan.  Ritualistic tattoos that marked him as an apprentice craftsdwarf of the forgepriests.

As he set the drinks down, the jewelry he wore on his arm clattered.  The sound was of the many torcs, bands, and bangles.

On one hand, the dwarf was missing a thumb.  And across the bridge of his nose, the relatively young craftspriest had a decorative grouping of metal bits and baubles attached directly to his face.  They caught the light when he grinned.

"Heldig."  He said.  "Heldig One-Thumb."

Lucien eyes old Grizzler incredulously. "Why have I been buying you ale if tea was an option?"

Then he turns to the new arrival. "Seliar Silversong. A pleasure, I'm sure." He extends a hand. "You'll forgive if we're a bit rough around the edges, we've had a hard time of it lately."

Clearly a Tiefling, she made no effort to disguise her demonic heritage with hoods or cloaks.  The purple flesh of her face  was heavily marred with intricate tattoo work, monochromatic in dark black.  They bore no form or easily discernible meaning, at least to those who lacked the lorecraft to read Celestial and Infernal, repeating geometric shapes and strange symbols that began at her cheeks and traveled down at least as far as the high collar of her studded leather jerkin.  To those who could, the arcane symbols of binding and containment were immediately clear.

Her ears and horns were heavily pierced and adorned with jewelry and rings, with some trinkets of real value mixed in among the cheap costume jewelry.  The armor she wore looked to be of solid quality, though lacking the embellishments that the upper classes might bear. Faded grey leathers with black studs at regular intervals, clearly well worn.  A knife rested at each hip, though those appear to be her only visible weapons.  Under the leathers she bore simple traveler's clothes, the heavy backpack over her shoulders and good knee high boots on her feet making it clear that she is ready to move.

Far more startling was the staff of purest ice she held protectively in one hand, clear and cold, with twinned columns of shadow and light running through it like coiling serpents.

"I would make a comment on the.... practicality of your name..."

She said, a bit of her old humor rising to the surface as she spoke the words.

"But I'm named Rissa Twiceborn, so I've not a leg to stand on."

She gestured to the Dwarf to join them.

"Have you any skill with wielding flame, One-Thumb?"

Alisandra sat looking forlornly into her cup as memories of prior battles roam unbidden in her mind. Rissa's self intoduction roused her from this isolation and she put on a stiff upper lip. She put on a good show but her eyes told a story of too many deaths in her presence. She gave the dwarf a nod, "First Lieutenant Alisandra a’Joli of Second Marine Expeditionary, Third Infantry Division, Warhammer Company." She finally took a good sized draught from her cup and continued, "Alisandra to my friends. I was brought on a short time ago as a tactics expert, which I've failed at entirely."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:50, Sun 27 Feb 2022.

"Lathan Swiftstrider." Lathan greets Heldig with a nod, then leans forward to hear what the dwarf has to say.

Heldig listened as the group introduced themselves. Taking intermittent sips of his piping hot tea while they spoke.

"Dwarves are practical folk."  The forgepriest said, answering when Lucien explained their haggard appearance.   "I'd be more worried if you came from the mines and looked fit for a queen's ball."

Following on, Heldig took in Rissa's appearance for a moment.  The meaning of the tiefling's tattoos was not immediately clear ... although the priest recognized bits and pieces of the celestial and infernal script.  The worthless trinkets sharing space next to precious stones, the practical equipment paired with phenomenal magicks ... the tiefling was obviously an enigma.  A foot firmly planted in two worlds ... belonging in neither.

"Old Grizzler mentioned about some nastiness with trolls."  He said, answering Rissa's questions about flame.  His demeanor was free of any judgement of her appearance or heritage.

"Nasty pests."  He said.  "Once they get burrowed into a place, it's a heckuva job to get them out.  Fire will do it though."

"Working with fire is a cousin to my main craft.  I'm a forge cleric of the All-Father.  The spark that lit the first forge is within me."

To Alisandra then, "Pleased to meet you, lass.  I'd not judge your successes by counting your victories.  There is some measure of comfort in knowing that — when faced with trolls in the dark depths — you got them out."  He said, trying to be reassuring.

"This is a tough land.  Dangerous."

Heldig returned the nod as Lathan introduced himself.  Elves were a tricky lot ... and the history they and dwarves shared often put them at odds.  The dwarf was the newcomer here, and so Heldig took no objection at the man preferring to keep his own counsel and observe.

His secrets were his own.

OOC — Heldig lacks Arcana  but has been trained in Religion ... I figured he'd at least recognize the script used.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:09, Mon 28 Feb 2022.

Alisandra's smile was bitter as the ale she drank. "No, one did not return." The weight of the loss was on her chest, making it tough to breath. "I am sorry, I need air." SHe left her cup and rushed to the door and out it. She did not run, but she did hurry. Outside she thankfully made it all the way round to an alley. She put her hand to the wall and vomited. She shook with the effort, eyes wet from tears of effort and grief. Three Elks had been her friend, confidant, and the one member of the group who had honestly reached out to be friends. She had thought there might be something more given time and cultivation, but time had been robbed. She slammed her hand on the wall and slid to her knees. She cried for Three Elks and for herself.

Snagger enters as Alisandra exits the tavern--he had been relieving himself. He hesitates, then shrugs and proceeds to join the others. "Greetings, uncle! I'm sure they told you of the challenges we faced down below... Hey, another dwarf!" he suddenly says when he notices Heldig. He extends a hand and says, "I'm Snagger. What's your story?"

"Well met."  Heldig said, taking Snagger's hand while his eyes followed Alisandra's exit.  He had not realized until that moment that one of their own did not return from the mines, and he had erred with the human woman by assuming they were whole.  He could tell that the death weighed heavy upon her.

Later, he would have to make amends.

"I'm just now finishing my journeyman travels."  He said, pushing the thought from his mind, referring to the required pilgrimage forgepriests of Moradin must make.

"The Father of Dwarves requires his priests to know a bit of the world before they settle down to tend the forge of their clanhome."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:54, Mon 28 Feb 2022.

Rissa stiffened at the word "spark," snapping out of her cold focus. Any who gazed in her direction would have seen the surprise on her features, and the time it took her to recover her composure. Evidently, something the Dwarf had said had impacted her greatly.

"I don't mean to be rude..."

She said at last, struggling to regain some measure of herself.

"… but we need someone who can conjure flame from the air to strike and smite their foes. Jinx there is possessed of no small amount of artifice..."

She gestured to her companion.

"… but what we face? We can't be reliant on her alone. Even potent Art can miss, when the hand that guides it is unsteady."

A harsh criticism of herself, given the number of occasions upon which she had been overtaken with fear and misplaced her own magical attacks.  She was adhering to social niceties, but only so that she could ask the questions that needed asking. It was shockingly utilitarian, but perhaps less so given what they had all just been through.

"Can your All Father infuse your weapons with flame, or call it down to strike your enemies? Not divine light, but fire. I understand well the difference."

For she could herself do the later, she knew.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:46, Mon 28 Feb 2022.

Lucien watched Alisandra go and decided to give her her space. The group had had nothing, but company for days of travel; perhaps they could all use some alone time. For the time though, he turned his attention back to Heldig and Old Grizzler. "That's not to say that we'd turn down another weapon in the fight of course, but we're being presumptuous. Are you even looking for an adventure like ours?"

In reply to Alisandra (msg # 37):

Lorrain was in the same alley as Alisandra. He ducked in earlier to relieve himself. The commotion at the entrance to the alley drew his attention as he finished his business. His feet moved softly, silently but he stopped when he heard crying. He needed to make a decision fast or he'll be spotted. "Ahem." He cleared his throat and moved to pass Alisandra in the alley.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:50, Tue 01 Mar 2022.

Heldig nodded.  "Moradin is not overmuch fond of war, but yes, as Lord of the Forge ... I can call upon him to smite my enemies with searing heat."



"I may be."  Heldig replied.  "What are you looking for, Master Seliar?  Down in the dark ... what is it you're after in these mines? "  As a dwarf, he knew full well the horrors that came from exploring too far in the depths of the earth.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:24, Wed 02 Mar 2022.

Startled Alisandra got one knee up and a hand on her sword at the sound of the throat clearing. Realizing she had been seen she wiped her eyes and then her mouth with her sleeve. She stood, keeping her back to the wall and hand on her sheathed weapon. "What want ye? Ye'll find me no easy mark, pointy ears. You'll do well to keep your manhood at that if ye try it."

In reply to Alisandra (msg # 44):

The elf shifted his feet retreating from Alisandra. His open palms were held in front of him as if to press her back should she advance on him. "I'm not here to hurt you." Lorrain craned his head to look back from where he came. Unfortunately, the alley was a dead end so he couldn't retreat further. "Stop. I think I understand. I'm standing here in the dark alley doing my business and you're there with a sword threatening me. How about I move out. Maybe I'll make a light so you'll see that I'm no threat."

Lorrain looked around the alley for something that would burn. He picked up a broken table leg and stopped. "Wait. This, this isn't a weapon. It's a torch." He quickly gestured and a bolt of fire shot out from his other hand. The flame hit the wooden leg and began to burn. "See?"

The elf in front of Alisandra held a burning table leg as a torch. The alley was short and ended at a door to an adjoining building. There were boxes and some broken furniture strewn against the side. Lorrain was dressed in well-worn rugged pants and vest. His white collared shirt was clean for someone that stepped out of the alley. Only his boots show some stains of water. Finally the elf stated, "Lorrain. My name... it's Lorrain. Now, would I tell you my name if I intended to do something? I only stepped in here to... Are you okay? Those tears. They don't become you."

Alisandra blinked as the elf light his makeshift torch, and then glarred at the mention of her tears, "They are for a fallen commarade. Do you know more than just prestidigitation?"

"Enough." Lorrain said with confidence. He gestured to Alisandra to back up so that they could step out of the alley. He made another gesture and snuffed out the torch and tossed it to the ground. "I can protect myself with spell and sword. Do you require such protection? Miss..."

In reply to Heldig One-Thumb (msg # 43):

Lucien leans forward in his chair and lowers his voice. "We're looking for kidnapped mages. At least that's how it started. There's a local boy. His fiance was taken by orcs and from from what our friend Snagger here has told us, the orcs have been taking anyone who can use magic deep underground to be given to..." The elf leans further in and lowers his voice even further. "Mindflayers."

With that said, Lucien leans back and the serious expression passes off his face. "So we're going back down there. First to kill the trolls, then to find the missing people. There's been no small portion of treasure along the way." He eyes Rissa, but says nothing in particular about the wand. "So what do you think?"

Just a reminder that Lucien has introduced himself as Seliar.

---

"Mmm."  Heldig remarked after hearing the heroic nature of the journey.

"Perhaps the All-Father placed you in my path for a reason."  He mused.

Then, switching to auld dwarfish, he addressed Snagger directly.

[Language unknown: "Ich diai ckpre, Ectintoreeeneaudin?  Tares ast llpl noted elil nt lo art oveinecon?"]

Snagger nods along with Lucien as he recounts the quest to Heldig. [Language unknown: "P lotick sa m ent di er ithut nd ine i iotatopa vorticing ame,"] he says. [Language unknown: "Wer onspe trto evin a ioukorcon atla, one ecnabe inend ofchel il, ittr T laith has ck ee lat redpround ssripr, ortthevirinttic, eters hotapaio u notvirlarour uler eldickelle. Tr beinfi plniri i ess antof pltewe io al, ing nc onin ropadi pa o ou meei."] Then he adds, "And if my great-uncle thinks you're okay, then you're okay by me, too."

Rissa seemed mollified, sitting back and letting the two Dwarves talk it out.

"What's in it for you?"

She asked when they were done.

"We've earned more than a little coin in this line of work, and paid for it in blood. Why sign up, why'd Snagger fetch you?"

"Happy accident, I suppose."  Heldig began, taking a large swallow of the last of his tea.

"I'd never had the pleasure of meeting Snagger or Old Grizzler before."

"The simple story is, my pilgrimage in and among the land of men had come to an end.  It was time to find my way back to my own people."

He tipped the now-empty mug on its side and rolled it idly back and forth on the table with the first finger of his maimed hand.

"Moradin demands — my faith demands — that I test myself.  If the path were easy, the journey then would be without value.  I do this to prove my worth, to be counted among those few that would spend their lives tending the Dwarf Father's forges."

He held up both hands for a moment, making an effort to show a slow, pudgy fist being repeatedly driven into an open palm.

Thud.  Thud.  Thud.

"It's like the ore, that needs the forge, which then needs the hammer and the anvil.  If it never wanted to change ... all would be fine.  But if it is to become.  Each one needs  the other as a necessary part of the journey."

"Sure ... it's hot, and rough, and noisy."  He admitted, wagging a four-fingered, thumbless hand.  "It might even cost you something dear."

"But it is through that effort ... that iron is turned into steel."

"I thought my pilgrimage had come to an end ... but after hearing of your quest ... it appears that there is more work yet left for me before I can rightly call myself a forgepriest."

"I suppose that's what is in it for me." He said, not unkindly.

Heldig took a moment and righted the sideways mug and wiped away the dregs of tea that had soiled the table.  Glancing up just then to meet the tiefling's eyes with a mischievous grin.

"Plus ... I've never sledged me a troll."