Trouble at Mount Cerena IC

[Tormsskull]

Rhedon, the capital city of the continent of the same name, was under assault by a fierce wintery wind, the chill cutting through the thickest cloaks. The sky was overcast, the sun hidden behind the clouds even at midday.

In Cartier Square, set against the side of Castle Rhedon, Councilor Draab Ironside sits at a large wooden desk. A pale blue canopy is set over him, and two small fires contained in circular metal containers are at both ends of the councilor.

In front of the councilor a few dozen people have gathered. There are two guards dressed in the red and yellow livery of Rhedon trying to keep the crowd organized. The individuals of the crowd are a mish-mash of people, humans, elves, dwarves, gnolls, and a few hobgoblins, all clad in metal or leather armor, and all holding weapons as if they know how to use them.

Councilor Ironside stands, his black hair and long beard shifting from a sudden gust of wind. Grumbling at the wind, he addresses the crowd.

"You all have come to answer the call for adventurers to take on a dire threat to my homeland. For this, I thank all of you. Even if you should decide not to take my offer, a free meal will be provided for you at the Golden Stag Inn, at my expense."

With this the councilor points towards the inn, his wrinkled finger bent at an angle that suggests it has been broken more than once.

"I will not lie. We have very little information about this sect of kalasti supporters that I want you to take care of. We do not know their numbers, we do not know their organization or amount of arms. If you should decide to take my offer, walk up to my desk and sign your name on this scroll in an orderly fashion."

The crowd all looked at one another...

[Toliudar]

Gana

It was easy for Gana to look over the crowd, standing a head taller than most. There were certainly older and more experienced warriors than her here. Would she be selected?

Not for the first time, Gana was also very conscious of being hemmed in on all sides by these more civilized folk - well, maybe not the gnolls. And also that her clothes still smelled like horse. She must remember not to turn too quickly and knock one of them down with her spearsword.

A moment after Councilor Ironsides finishes his opening statement, Gana does indeed look around at the others around her, and shyly raise her hand. She clears her throat, and her voice is surprisingly soft and high-pitched for one so big.

"Um. So, you're going to tell us what you do know, or do we have to sign up first?"

[esorscher]

Thanos

Ironside's words echoed out over the room, reaching the ears of all in attendance. The councilor was a hardened veteran of war, and Thanos had always admired him. There was no question in his mind that Ironside would have been a preferable patron to his craft, but fate had destined him to work with a lesser man. Perhaps if Thanos performed this service for Ironside, Ironside would look favorably on him, and help him find his father's killers.

Thanos looked around at his peers, trying to pick out the cowards from the brave, the ruthless from the charitable, the weak from the strong. Feeling confident that he possessed the latter attributes of all three pairings, Thanos stepped forward, moving to sign the document on the table.

He was stopped by a lofty, high-pitched voice. A beautiful voice, Thanos turned, guessing the owner paralleled the promise visage. Surprisingly, the voice belonged to an orc female. Not quite what Thanos had imagined, but he stopped his forward motion to listen to the answer.

[Cespenar]

Daen

A black-haired, armored man, standing amongst other armored men, almost invisible.

Looking blankly forward, Daen was reliving the previous month's events in his mind, yet again. Councilor's voice was in the background, as if coming from behind a heavy curtain. He heard them though, brain processing without letting the mind know. Kalasti supporters, not enough information, mere details.

He "awoke" with the combination of a motion and change of sound. A man had bolted forward, but stopped as a high-pitched woman's voice cut in. She was asking for more knowledge, if he had heard right.

Feeling rather numb at the moment, Daen walked stiffly forward and started to sign the scroll without waiting for the councilor's answer.

[Tormsskull]

Councilor Ironside looks towards the speaker from the crowd, and then nods with a hint of a smile at the dwarf who approached the table. Glancing at the black-haired armored man who also approached, a look that could be called mild approval covered his face.

"All we know at the time is that there is a group of men dressing up in blue robes and wearing feather costumes to appear as kalasti. Needless to say, this has caused a bit of a problem. Ever since one of our mining groups excavated into a hidden fortress and ran into the sect, the whole area has threatened to go into a panic."

The councilor frowns a bit, clenching his right fist in the process.

"I've been told that the tunnel that connects to the fortress has been closed down, and a squad of soldiers has been placed there. As I said, our information about inside the tunnel is sparse at best. I'm sure the commander on location can provide more information."

Councilor Ironside looks down at the scroll as the first signature is added.

[esorscher]

Thanos

Thanos wasn't sure about the mission, but he'd already made steps toward the scroll. It wasn't as if he could back out now. As soon as the armored man was clear of the parchment, Thanos scribbled his signature below the hastily scrawled "Daen."

He stepped to the side of the desk, watching as others would come forward, trying to size them up. As he did, he attempted to size up his peer. He carried a sense of sternness to him, an admirable and favorable trait for an ally to possess, and he didn't look like your casual ruthless, bloodthirsty mercenary. Of course, the good ones rarely do, so it was anyone's guess as to what really lay behind this man's eyes. There was something more, something lying under the surface, however--an aspect Thanos recognized because it was something his own eyes belied.

[Toliudar]

Gana

Gana nodded silently at the dwarf's response. She couldn't really think of what else to ask at this point. All would be made clear.

Following the others who had stepped forward, she took up the stylus and inscribed a rough circle underneath the men's squiggles, and then let it drop back down next to the scroll. All this focus on marks on paper seemed silly to her, but the men here seemed to put great stock in it.

"Okay. I'm in," she murmured.

[HempRope]

Nevan

"Er, sorry," says a man who has been standing slightly off to the side. His sharp features and high voice mark him as an elf, but not the type of elf common in the Capitol. Beneath chainmail and a sturdy jerkin he has dark skin, and his hair has a reddish hue to it.

"I'm not used to this business of being a hired blade," he continues, but then glances at the big, unstrung longbow gripped tightly in his right hand. He carries a sword and shield, as well, but the large quiver on his back (and the fact that it's half-empty) proves his bow sees much more use. "Um, or hired... hand. At any rate, I guess what I'm getting at is... well, will we be... compensated for this?"

His words have long vowels, confirming what was suggested by his dirty boots, bulging pack and faint smell -- the man is a ways from home. Those who have travelled might recognize the accent as that of a southerner.

[OrigamiSamurai]

Noftur

The sound of something clacking against steel rings erupts into a bubble of silence as the adventurers standing at the back of the crowd notice a horrific figure making its way up to the front of the line.

What strides forward could be the reanimated corpse of dwarf, though instead of rot and disease it is the vague stench of ale and urine that radiate from him. Half of his beard, and his face as well, seem to be missing. An unnatural crater of scabs and scars mark the right half of his face, where a jagged piece of his cheek bone juts out, barely covered by the skin.

Even the old veterans who have seen the horrors of war cringe at the sight of this walking monster. The more observant of them notice he wears a leather strap around his neck with an ivory bear statuette, a small silver ring set with an amethyst, and a small tube that could be a miniature scroll or map case, hung about his neck like totems.

He is still bleeding slightly from a gash across his forehead, droplets of blood lazily making their way down his brows to the end of his nose and staining the flagstones and his iron-shod boots.

He walks directly up to the front of the line, pulls out a quill out of a pouch, inks it and scrawls 'Noftur Ironhelm - Siege Engineer' in the linear, scratchy style of Dwarven runes. A drop of blood sails downward from his nose and lands squarely on his name.

As he looks up from the scroll, he stares coldly at everyone around him, daring someone to say something. He pointedly avoids the gazes of the dwarves until he finally locks gazes with Draab. 'These surface dwellers will be needing a dwarf if they're to be going down into a mine,' he grumbles in a gravely voice before making his way to an empty spot of wall which he leans against, eying the ground.

Noftur Portrait

[Toliudar]

Gana

Gana took stock of the five men who had also stepped forward and signed up. She'd heard that dwarves and elves sometimes had a bad reaction to her folk. Sounded like that elf had come a long way too, and from the opposite direction as her. Not a lot of dwarves, and just a few elves up where she come from, so it was all one to her. Gana tried a small smile as the group stood around.

"Um, hello. Gana."

[esorscher]

Thanos

Thanos extended a hand in greeting toward the she-orc. Even by orc standards, Thanos mused, she was odd-looking. Her hair was unlike any he'd seen on an orc, and a sharp contrast to his own inky-black ceaser 'do.

"Greetings, Gana. I am Thanos." He spoke with a pretentious, refined air, as if he'd been schooled in oratory as a child, trying to impress upon his new allies that he was of high standing. He hadn't been, and he wasn't.

As if she didn't already know who he was--although it was possible she wasn't familiar with the competitive archery league the city held, and that his name was at the top of every list. It was relatively small-time, after all.

But Thanos's thoughts weren't toward Gana, they weren't toward his modest fame as an archer, but toward the disfigured dwarf that had joined their midst. Half tempted to make a quip about how a dwarf with half a beard is only half a dwarf but deciding against such a statement, Thanos instead choked down the rising bile at the dwarf's ghastly visage, hoping it would go unnoticed among his peers.

[Toliudar]

Gana

Gana looked down at the man with the bow. He talked pretty.

Uh. Hi, Thanos.

She followed his eye over to the dwarf with the smashed in face. Looked like somebody wasn't quite done smashing it in yet.

Remember to keep her mouth closed when she smiled. Remember to keep her mouth closed when she smiled.

Gana smiled down at the dwarf.

You want a bandage or something for that?

[OrigamiSamurai]

Noftur

A strange look crosses the dwarf's face as he stares down at floor. He lifts his eyes up... and up to Gana's. The black, brown, red, and purple skin on the right side of his face twists and stretchs as the other half of his face cracks into a smile.

'It's not often I meet someone nearly as ugly as myself.'

He grins, or grimaces, up at her, and then suddenly bursts out laughing.

'Well met, Gana, was it? I've only myself to blame for this,' he says gesturing at the gash on his forehead. 'Helga doesn't take kindly to me sharing her stall, nor drinking myself into a stupor.'

After a short pause, he adds, 'My horse.'

Casting a glance over to Thanos, he snorts and shakes his head. Turning back to Gana, he asks, 'You know your way around a hole in the ground?'

[Tormsskull]

Councilor Ironside seems content to allow those who have signed and those in the process of signing to talk amongst themselves and get to know each other. He does, however, nod in Nevan's direction, and speaks quietly trying not to interrupt any other conversations that may be taking place.

"The Grand Council has authorized me to dispense 1,000 gold coins, a paltry sum, really."

The councilor grumbles to himself, a clear sign that he has had past disagreements with the council.

"I've added another 1,000 gold coins from my own estate to that, for a total of 2,000 gold coins to be paid to the persons that end any threat posed by the sect. The payment will be made after I am informed from the area that a patrol has gone through the fortress and found it to be of no danger."

[Cespenar]

Daen

Not sure of what to do now that he has signed the scroll, Daen lets his gaze wander around, returning some looks in the process. The man called Thanos had sent a rather sharp one though, and Daen wonders if the man really saw through him, or it was just an intimidating look.

Sighing, he focuses back, and finds the councilor talking to the elf. A moment's listening reveals, however, that the subject is payment, and thus not interesting to him. He lets out another sigh and continues to look around, starting to get bored of all pleasantries that's been going around.

[HempRope]

Nevan

The elven man blinks when, for a moment, he is under the impression that he might get a thousand gold for his trouble. When he understands that it will be two thousand split among the group, he pauses for a moment to look at the few people who have signed up. If it's only split among half a dozen people, that's a decent sum.

He nods and steps forward, reaching for a scroll case that hangs across his body from his left shoulder to his right hip. From a small compartment on the side he pulls a large quill, dips it in the inkwell on the table, and scrawls a loopy signature with a small flourish at the end. He pauses for a moment, his pen hovering over the scroll, and then letters "Nevan Alibo" in a neat, tight hand beneath the signature. Switching the quill to his left hand, with the bow, he offers Ironside his right to shake.

"Nevan Alibo," he says.

The deal now sealed with a handshake as well as a signature, Nevan moves to the side to join his soon-to-be comrades, wiping his quill clean with a cloth from his pocket. He nods to the others, taking a second look to inspect Thanos' bow.

"Nevan," he says to the group at large.

[esorscher]

Thanos

Seeing the ugly orc's attention shift to the ugly dwarf and musing on how birds of a feather flock together, Thanos is pleased to find that there would be no awkward silence; a new member of the party had just added himself, and Thanos takes the opportunity to greet him, holding up a hand in a half-wave.

"I'm Thanos," he starts, briefly pausing and then continues, "That's quite a smart looking bow you've got there. Are you any good with it?"

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Thanos realizes that they might be taken offensively. He meant them as a mere conversation starter with a fellow bowman, but if Nevan figured them as an insult, or a challenge, things could get off to a rocky start.

[Toliudar]

Gana

The big orc has been looking down at the strange, scarred dwarf, trying to figure out if she's been insulted, befriended or hit on. All three seem possible, and it was so hard to tell, with things being so very different down here. She settles on the middle one, since it seems safest. Her smile widens, revealing an array of long, crooked teeth.

Nearly. So you slept in a stables too, last night? Least I was smart enough to sneak up to the hayloft. I'll have to show you sometime.

Gana freezes, the green/grey of her face darkening significantly for a moment as she takes in what she's just said.

I mean...that's...

She glances around, looking for a way out of this moment.

So, do you know where this Golden Stag place is? Maybe we should all go over there now, and talk with our mouths full.

[HempRope]

Nevan

Nevan opens his mouth for a tart riposte, but is interrupted by Gana. The look on Thanos' face suggests perhaps he wasn't trying to be mean... Nevan decides to be equally ambiguous.

"I don't waste many arrows," he says curtly to Thanos before turning to Gana.

"Sounds excellent," he says. "I haven't had someone else make me a meal in far too long. Is this everyone?" he asks, turning to Ironside and the rest of the rabble assembled before the dwarf.

If no one else appears to be signing up, Nevan makes his way toward the building he thinks the dwarf's gnarled finger had indicated.

[Rettu Skcollob]

The ambient chatter of the square and its occupants is abruptly interrupted by a sound that seems remarkably similar to shattering glass. This is most probably because it is the sound of shattering glass. With a dull thump, Adtasi landed on the ground in the square, quickly hauling himself up and brushing what remained of the window of the tavern he was just thrown out of off of his shoulders irritably. He made an obscene gesture in the general direction of the bar angrily. He shouted a curse that he'd learned from an Orc a while back, which roughly translated meant "May your weapon fall from your hands and cut off your genitals, spawn of a wild boar."

A raucous babble of angry voices was heard from the tavern, as Adtasi turned, shaking his head to remove yet more of the razor sharp pieces of glass from his blond hair. Irritably, he rubs at a cut on his cheek that has begun to bleed profusely with a gloved hand. He looks surprisingly young, and couldn't be younger than twenty, but carries himself with an air of wary confidence, supplemented by the exquisitely crafted crossbow that hung from his back, and the toughened, studded leather that obscured the majority of his skin, save for his knees and elbows, which were covered with winding black cloth. He throws his hood over his head, suddenly transformed from a handsome young boy with rather a lot of weaponry to a slimly built man that looks as if he might disappear if he walked into shadows.

A wickedly sharp rapier hangs at his side, though he has attached it to his armour rather inexpertly, betraying his inexperience with the weapon. It too appears to be well made and balanced, however. His eyebrows raise as he hears the words "Two thousand Gold" clearly, despite being at the very back of the throng. He strides through the crowd slowly, lacking the bulk to be able to push through the crowd. A string of curses, variously in Dwarven, Elven and Orcish emnates from his mouth as he weaves his way as best he can through the crowd. Eventually, he makes his way to the front, and signs his name on the scroll therein with a flourishing, elegant script. That done, he turns to the rest of the motley group that appears to have signed on. Despite his vulgarities earlier, he speaks Common with a refined accent.

"Greetings and all that. My guess is you'll be needing a man who knows his way around a lock and trap on this trip. I'd be happy to oblige; for a share in the reward, of course. Times are hard. I'll wager that I'll be able to retrieve enough loot from the corpses of the bird-lovers to make this worthwhile."

A drop of blood falls to the floor from the cut on his obscured face, and he absent mindedly rubs at it again with a dirty glove.

[HempRope]

Nevan

Nevan looks over his shoulder as the young man in black joins them.

"You two are gonna need to get cleaned up, or we're going to be easier to track than a gaggle of Owlbears," he says, waving a hand at Noftur and the new arrival. "What's your name, by the way?"

[Rettu Skcollob]

"Hm? Oh, call me Adtasi. Ad' for short, if you like. And don't worry about me, it's just a cut or two. Minor issue with a few of the drinking crowd." Adtasi let his first name slip easily, but he kept his last to himself. There was always a chance that one of the group or those nearby would have heard of the hefty reward offered for his return to his Father, and decide to jump him. Come to think of it, Adtasi was a fairly uncommon name anyway... Might need a new one some time.

[OrigamiSamurai]

Noftur

With a ghastly grin at Gana, Noftur quips, 'It would hardly do to leave Helga alone, now. And why waste perfectly good effort dragging yourself up when there's a bed of soft hay at your feet, hmm?'

Smiling, Noftur quickly adds, 'Oh I think that Stag's off that way,' and he starts walking off. 'I'm not so sure about talking with mouths full, though. That is, unless you'd like to see even more of my food while I'm chewing it.' After he says this it becomes immediately apparent that anyone sitting on his right would have a clear view of anything in Noftur's mouth.

As Noftur hears the young human with the rapier say the words 'locks and traps,' he stiffens up and a dark cloud passes across his eyes. The muscles in his face suddenly twist themselves in a spasm and his hand twitches upward from his side toward the tokens dangling from their leather strap at his breast. He seems to gaze through the human into some other place for an instant.

All at once, he seems to relax, and he tilts his head sideways up at Gana and begins, 'Shall we head off to the Stag? You know, if we do this, bards may write songs about the lot of us. Imagine it: the Green Queen and Skullface the Dwarf. Prissybow the elf and Hightalk the queasy. I saw that look he gave me. Let's see now, who else have we here. Shardface the silly, and... Daylen the Disinterested? What was that one's name again?' Noftur seems to be rambling on glibly almost without thinking, certainly without giving a thought to the fact that almost anyone within a hundred feet can clearly hear everything he is saying.

[Rettu Skcollob]

Adtasi raises an eyebrow at the Dwarf's monologue, but lets the vaguely insulting epithet slide. He waves a gloved hand in front of his eyes briefly.

"Are you alright, friend? Perhaps you should get those injuries treated..."

He runs his tongue along his teeth thoughtfully. Shardface the silly? This Dwarf must have taken an impressive blow. Shardface. Doesn't sound so bad, actually. Hmm. Shard. That was a good name. He'd have to remember it later, in case he needed an alias.

[OrigamiSamurai]

Noftur

'Hrmm? The ones in my head or the ones on my head?' he grins.

'Well met, Adtasi. As for this,' he says, pointing to the gash on his forehead, 'it's nothing more than a scratch.' As he says this he scratches at the wound, bleeding on his right glove and starting a small rivulet of blood trickling down the normal half of his nose.

He turns his attention toward the elf and then quickly mumbles something under his breath. The words 'stinking elf,' 'flesh wound' and 'bloody' can vaguely be heard. He quickly smiles, though, and offers a grubby left hand to the elf. 'Nevan, isn't it? I suppose if it will shut your silly mouth I'll submit to having this cleaned up.' Noftur is already laughing and turning away as he finishes the sentence, walking on toward the Golden Stag.

[esorscher]

Thanos

As the group moves away from him, Thanos frowns inwardly, already feeling the animosity building amongst the group, most of it directed toward him. No matter, he reasons as he catches up, they'll soon appreciate me when the battle comes.

It was the dwarf's prodigious disrespect that brings his already simmering anger to a boiling point. As the group walks out of earshot of Councilor Ironside and toward the Inn, Thanos, bringing up the rear, mutters under his breath, dropping all pretense:

"I thought honor was what the dwarves valued. I guess with only half a beard, you're really only half a dwarf. Maybe when you need my help, you'll show a bit more respect."

As soon as the words were out, Thanos felt a twang of guilt, but he wasn't about to let a slight against his honor go unpunished. Warranted or not, the words were out there, and if Thanos has correctly interpreted the skittish, reflexive fear that has passed over the dwarf, more than one of this party had their share of queasiness.

[Rettu Skcollob]

Adtasi follows the group, beginning to like the Dwarf already. He smiles, revealing his canines under his hood as the Human rises to the Dwarf's taunting, looking forward to seeing how this would turn out. If it came to a fight he probably would remain neutral, but bet a gold piece on the Dwarf nonetheless.

[Toliudar]

Gana

The orc tags along towards the back of the group. Some part of her remembers the spectacle of the orc men in her village, lining up at the edge of a frozen stream, angling their water up to try to see who could go the furthest. This...smelled the same.

[Cespenar]

Daen

As if doing it unintentionally, Daen walks between Thanos and the dwarf, and abruptly stops on the point their lines of sight intersect. He touches Thanos' shoulder softly, gesturing him forward.

"I heard the Golden Stag serves one of the best mutton stews around here," he says with a calm voice. The irrelevance of the sentence is almost as blatant as the implication underneath.

[Rettu Skcollob]

Adtasi continued on in silence, indifferent to the conflict that Daen had just attempted to defuse. Vaguely; the fact that one less party member meant more treasure all around occurred to him. He shook his head slightly, banishing the thought from his head. He always got like this when coin was scarce. He really had to fix that later... In any case, he'd have to reserve judgment on the others before he took a side, if he ever did.