[Group 2] The World's Largest Dungeon - IC

[Quakes]

Go ahead. You probably know more about that than anyone else. When someone died on the ship, we just wrapped them in canvas, lit a candle, and gave them to the sea. While you're doing that, I'll get his things together. We still need to pay for his room, after all.

[Sucrose]

Kulkav nods, looking down to Arian with pity.

"I suppose that is the way of his people. Were he a fellow goliath, I would see to it that his song was sung. However... I do not know if there are proper Lamenters in this town. I certainly am not one. For that matter, I do not know if anyone who knows him is left. ...Still, if it is possible, I will see to it."

[Mr. X]

Fredric nods grimly...

"... Chaulk up another poor soul, doubtless he won't be the last..."

He turns to go, but his eye falls on the censor hanging on Arian's bedpost... He picks it up absently, twisting the long chain in his fingers, a thin wisp of smoke trickling from it, and then leaves.

[Simba]

Vlorah stands at the door, watching the poor guy die. As if a dam was bursting, tears suddenly run down her cheeks and she starts sobbing: "Dead, all dead....everyone is dead, everyone....there's noone left....."

Slowly she slides down the doorpost to sit in a heap on the floor, quietly crying.

[Fates]

Malthos turns toward Elias, giving him a look that asks him to comfort Vlorah. He then picks up Arian's body and, muttering, poor soul, he carries the corpse into his own room. He conjures a few gallons of water, and then washes the dirty, briny skin of the man thoroughly. He searches Arian's things for his nicest clothes, then dons the corpse in them. Finally, Malthos lights some insence to mask the odor of corpse, applies some balm to his face in order prevent it from decaying too quickly, and to reduce his pallor.

Malthos then searches through Arians things for objects that could be useful to himself, and for anything that might have been of sentimental value to the archivist.

[Quakes]

Elias kneels and hugs Vlorah fiercely, handing her a cloth for her tears. Sweet Vlorah. All people pass from this world, though most not so painfully. This is why we must continue to fight, to prevent this from happening to anyone else. This time, it was a new friend. Next time, it could be a complete stranger. But that stranger is still worth fighting for. Arian would not want us to break down and let this continue. For him, for all of us, for the entire world, we will stop those who would do this.

[Sucrose]

Kulkav sighs, seeing that, for the moment, danger has passed, and heads back to his room to get some sleep. There is still an important meeting in the morning, and even funerary activities can wait until the tribes have taken another step toward unity.

[Mr. X]

For Malthos:

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In Arians belongings, you find the following:
2 each:
Scrolls of Charm Person, Protection from Evil, Protection from Chaos, Jump, and Create Water.

These are all divine magic scrolls.

A chain of numerous copper holy symbols, each to a different popular or more obscurely known deity.

A +1 Light Crossbow

4 daggers.

A Chain shirt.

A leather bound writing book, which appears to be Arian's journal.

A heavy folio tome, bound in a thick, rough hide that possesses an odd, silvery sheen to it. The writing within is scribbled and erratic, such that even if you could understand the bizarre language it is written in, it is nearly illegible.

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Comprehend Languages or Read Magic will allow you to understand the language, but you'll likely still require a Decipher Script check to be able to make sense of the chaotic writing... You're looking at hours of work for even a cursory understanding.

Three scrolls of terrifying destructive power, you can only immagine where he might have acquired them...

Scrolls of Blasphemy, Creeping Doom, and Symbol of Insanity.

A fourth scroll that details a complex ritual by which a person might conjure one of the very Dukes of Hell, contain him upon this plane, and compel him to answer honestly a number of questions...

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This scroll's summoning ritual appears to be a clear set of directions layed out that anyone, of any level of power, or even none at all, could make use of them... If done correctly.

EDIT(I forgot this one, and it's important)/:Finally, a crude iron brand, about the size of a fireplace poker, headed with a bizarre arcane symbol.

Feel free to ask me for clearification regarding any of these OOC.

As Elias comforts Vlorah, Malthos prepares Arian's Body, and Kulkov returns to sleep, Fredric dons his robe, and goes downstairs to explain the situation and the evenings disturbances to the innkeeper, leaving him a few extra gold pieces for the damage and mess to the room, before returning to his own bed.

For All:

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If anyone has any actions to take before morning, please take them. Otherwise, you may consider the rest period passed, and you've got a few hours before your appointment with Lord Gyburn.

[Simba]

After a while Vlorah calms down a bit: "Those people who died here, they were the only ones I ever knew. Now you are all that is left of my old life, you and Lathander."

With a small smile she adds: "You might call it another new beginning of sorts..."

[Quakes]

And at least this beginning is out in the fresh air.

[Fates]

Malthos takes all of the scrolls, tomes, and the diary for himself, as well as the iron brand, and places them in his pack. He puts Arian's chainmail and daggers on his person. His job finished for the time being, Malthos moves the body back onto Arian's bed, and goes to sleep.

[Sucrose]

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If anyone has anything further they'd like to do before morning, then please feel free to post about that after this; I can delete and repost as necessary.

Upon waking, Kulkav puts on his full armor.

...I should find some way to avoid having to remove this...

He breaks his fast with food gathered along the trail, and walks downstairs to meet with the others, and decide what tack would be taken in the meeting with Lord Gyburn.

[Simba]

In the morning, Vlorah arrives downstairs puffy eyed, but seems to regained her composure somewhat. She even manages a small smile when she sees the others.

[Mr. X]

Fredric joins the group downstairs, his tattered robes cleaned, pressed, and made as presentable as they can be.

"I went to the temple early this morning, and spoke to the acolytes. They will come along and claim Demonbane's body later today."

He glances over to the innkeeper, who huddles darkly behind his counter, before leaning in and speaking in a low voice...

"... We'd be well advised to find a different inn after our meeting with the lord. Word of last night's disturbance has spread, and a curse of that weight is nothing to be scoffed at... People will be afraid it will fall from us to them, and perhaps rightly so. Either way, there's no need to allow our mere presence to add fuel to the fire.

[Quakes]

Elias comes downstairs, not looking any worse for the trials of the night before.

Perhaps we should seek beds at the temple tonight. It may be more difficult for evil magic to find us there.

Who should speak with Lord Gyburn? I don't have a name or station that would lend me any status in his eyes. But we need his support if we are to defend this land.

[Mr. X]

For All:

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If someone would like to give me a Knowledge(Nobility) roll, you may know something of the man.

[Sucrose]

Kulkav nods in agreement to both Fredric and Elias.

"...The Ilkanu clan has ranged this far. It is possible that he has heard of me before. However, I am not comfortable with lowland diplomacy...I may do some good, but I would hardly say that I would be ideal for such a task..."

[Fates]

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Knowledge (nobility)
(1d20+1)[7]

[Mr. X]

As the party finishes its breakfast, a messenger arrives to escort you all to Lord Gyburn's manor.

Mounting up for the short ride the day is clear and bright, though, while the sun is warm, there is a sharp bite to the wind, the first taste of the coming winter. Regardless, you find the cold air fresh and bracing.

You find the Lord's manor on a rise overlooking the town... A squat stronghold of rough cut and unmasoned stone. Built as a fortress to stave off bandits when the crossing of trade routes became a standing market place unto itself (thus the town's name), it is perhaps two centuries old, and has seen it's fair share of action.

As you pass through the wall's low gate and into the cramped courtyard, you can see that no expense as been wasted on any sort of frivelous ornamentation or nicety. The place, while crudely built, is utilitarianly well maintained and unadorned. The stables are clean, and guards patrol the narrow walls.

The messenger leads you through the gates into the great hall, where you almost feel right at home... The floors and walls of unadorned flagstone stretch off before you, though none are so well fitted as those the dungeon boasted. The room is dominated by a large wooden table stretching the length of the room. There are benches along either side, and a large chair crowning the head of the table. All are currently empty.

You are led passed all of this to the end of the room, and through a door off to the right, where you find yourself in a small antechamber. Benches line the walls, a window looks out into the courtyard, and an iron candelabra stands unlit in one corner.

The messenger asks that you wait here a moment while he informs the Lord of your presence. He then slips through the further door, and is gone.

[Sucrose]

Kulkav nods approvingly throughout the house, and takes a seat near the head chair on one of the benches.

"...If his dwelling says anything about him, I think I will like Lord Gyburn. It seems practical. Pity there are so few windows, though..."

[Mr. X]

After a short wait, the messenger returns, and guides you through the door into the next room.

"Come in, come in. You'll forgive me if I do not stand." a gruff voice sounds out as you enter.

The room is not large, and is dominated by a large, parchment littered, desk, behind which sits a tough looking old man. Lord Gyburn, you presume. His grey hair is long and pulled back in a clasp, his beard short and well trimmed. Under his grey robes, his shoulders are broad and strong, and you suspect he must once have been a fine warrior... His chair, however, is wheeled, and beneath the hem of his robe, you can see one of his feet is booted, while the other is wrapped in gauze, and swollen to a horrid and sickening size.

"Godsent indeed, I'd not thought to ever meet one of your sort." He says, looking at Kulkov. "Please sit, all of you. Justin, bring us another pot of tea, please."

The messenger nods, and dissapears through a side door as you take your seats before the lord.

"Now I don't suppose it's to much to hope that you might have something to tell me, with regards to the situation in Beluvah, that doesn't involve ravings of wyrms and dragons and demons spilling up from the abyss, is there?

[Quakes]

Thank you for seeing us, My Lord. I promise you that the ravings are not completely off basis, just exaggerated. They are by no means something to take lightly. There was a worm that was summoned, but it seems to have departed to its home plane. The threat that remains is not demons, but goblins in numbers that are staggering. These creatures have mutated from their exposure to strange energies in their home below ground, and they seem intent on ravaging the countryside. Their eventual goal we do not know, but they must be stopped, and this will take the cooperation of all the nations across the continent.

[Fates]

Malthos sits down, and nods grimly. It is true, I'm afraid. They were kept within a great city, but somehow, our presence there allowed their magi to summon the worm. Malthos' eyes turn toward the lord's.

I believe, therefore, that it is our personal responsibility, mine more than anyone else's.

[Mr. X]

"Then it is true that Beluvah has indeed fallen to hostile forces?" This, more of a statement than a question. The older man looks grim. "... I've already sent riders with word of the disaster to Star Spire and Timaril, and I expect by now they've received refugees of their own... I had hoped that the earthquake was but a natural event, however catastrophic, but a hostile assault..? Gathering armies shall be the least of our worries..."

As Malthos speaks up, Lord Gyburn turns to him...
"Your presence? Your personal responsibility?" he leans forward, dangerously intent, "I think you'd best explain that statement a little further."

[Fates]

Malthos swallows his courage, takes a sip of tea, and then speaks.
We were...adventuring; we had found a dungeon that was claimed to hold immense treasures within. We nearly died on several occasions, and, in fact, two of our number were lost, but in the end, we found what we were looking for.
Malthos leans in closer, and clears his throat.
The issue was, we could not find a way out. We wandered for days, gaining more and more knowledge, power, and treasure as we went, but stilll without any means for escape. We feasted on rats and stale rations, one a day only, and would often spend days cooped within this room or that, with nothing for us to do but wait for our wounds to heal. It went on for weeks, until finally, we found...
Malthos voice has become dry and cracked, and, having not fully recovered from the effects of the ghost's magic, sounds very much like that of an old man. He drinks deeply from his cup again before continuing.
A city. An immense, underground city. We were greeted well by these goblins. Though we could not communicate, they brought us into their city, before a great ritual site. We did not know what it was they intended, but they had received us well, and we were weary from our constant brushes with death. They offered a chunk of rotting meat, and, while the rest of my comrades were disgusted at the idea, I took a bite from it. I was weak at the time, and frightened at what they might do to us if I did not oblige. Apparently, this, combined with the power of their magi, was all it took to summon the worm.

After the worm had done its work, the goblins assailed us. I am proud to say that I did my best to cull their numbers, but we soon realized that there were simply too many. With all the alacrity our bodies would allow, we ran from them, through the worm's tunnel. We escaped, but by then, the goblins were ravaging the great city, and it was all we could do to rescue what civilians remained.

Malthos' eyes brim with tears, and he falls silent.

[Mr. X]

Lord Gyburn sits back grimly as Malthos finishes his tale...

"... I find it somewhat hard to believe that eating a piece of rotted meat caused the gods' seat on this earth to be razed, but be that as it may, I'm not inclined to hang you for it." He sighs, sipping his own tea, "I might advise you to keep that story under your hat, however. The masses are not as forgiving as I am, and it would be a shame to see you all lynched after rescuing so many."

He sits for a moment, lost in thought, before coming to the surface...

"... And they will be out for blood..."

He takes a deep breath.

"... I am expecting an envoy from the Silver Horsemen to arrive later today. I would ask that you return to convey your report to him when he arrives. I'll send Justin to collect you again when it's time. Until then, thank you for your time.

He dismisses you with a nod and a waive of his hand, and returns to the pile of parchments on his desk.

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All gain 1000xp

[Fates]

Malthos nods, smirking despite himself as he stands to leave. Believe me, I have no intention of being lynched by townsfolk after all we've been through. I still have many a score to settle. Good day, my lord, and thank you for your hospitality.

The shaman then turns about, the chain around his neck ringing, and then begins to leave with the others.

[Mr. X]

For All:

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If anyone has actions to take, feel free to take them.

Services are available in town. All standard supplies are available at cost.

Magical Items are available at cost, but limited. Nothing available above a +1 effect, of Lv1 spell.

[Mr. X]

As you leave the greathall and approach the stables for your horses, Fredric speaks up thoughtfully...

"... Did it strike anyone else as odd that the Lord seemed almost more worried about the people's response than he was about the goblins?"

[Sucrose]

Kulkav nods.

"A tribe that loses heart is a tribe that will not survive a winter. We will need strong spirits to survive such a threat, so we must get our own affairs in order. I am...fairly impressed with Lord Gyburn."