The gnome replies, "What! You think you can dodge my inescapable questions with your round-about rhetoricals? I will accept nothing short of a logical answer!"
“How could we possibly know your name?!” shouts Jirt, thoroughly unnerved by this gnome to whom he feels a natural, unexplainable urge to call him master. Of course, it could just be years of training to follow direct orders. “We only just met you!”
Nareth recoils from the gnome, holding the sword at the ready. The captain disgustedly looks at the gnome's hand with a potion. With a calming gesture, he orders Jirt and Kefto to stand aside as well. The captain speaks angrily and impatiently:
" Answer fiend! Or I will crush your head! And stop touching me, this is the first and the last warning! I am watching ya, and if ya wills something twisted, I swear to the Refiner himself, I kill ya. ", Nareth turns to Colden: " As you command, M'Lord Colden! Ya are condescending, as always."
"Well, then let's dispense with these pleasantries and get to the point. It seems I'll have to ask somebody else about this issue. I don't like accusing my minions of treachery."
The gnome calms down:
"It appears that though you band of minions might be strong and tough, you lack direction and insight, and are thus wandering around like helpless cattle! You need a master to guide you! And today is your lucky day, for I shall take you all into my service. Yes! I can see the joy in your faces! Now... we have a secret treasure to find!"
Hearing Nareth's angry words:
"Oooh, I like your spirit, Minion! You certainly walk as a lion amongst sheep! But there are far more dangerous creatures than lions. Yes... soooooo, you should put this armour oil on you! All right, I'll let you do it yourself, since you appear capable enough."
Colden doesn’t believe this gnome is of any threat to them. Taking his hat off and holding it thoughtfully, he can’t imagine this gnome telling anyone about their mission. Neither can he imagine why it should be kept a complete secret.
Figuring that the rewards outweigh any potential risks, he decides to tell the gnome.
“We are indeed a bit directionless,” he says, smiling at the gnome’s antics, and also fondly at the soldier’s reaction despite himself. “We need to get to Warne-Hardard Wast. I’m told it is on the other side of this mountain, but with our injured guide, we have no way of scaling the cliffs.”
Garta interrupts. “I can make the climb,” she hisses, defensive instantly.
Colden makes a calming gesture in the air with his hand. “No one is questioning your capabilities or your drive,” says Colden smoothly. “But one of your vast knowledge seems experienced enough to know that such a perilous journey with your injury, while easy for you, I’m sure, while hale, could be disastrous for the rest of us less experienced climbers.” He smiles disarmingly through his trim beard, and brushes himself as thought the matter is clearly settled by his rational, and no doubt smoothly put (he rather thinks), argument.
Garta sits back, grudgingly placated and pouting.
“Perhaps my good gnome might know a way to Warne-Harsard Wast on the other side of this mountain range?” he says to the gnome without particular hope or conviction. “As the lord or master of your minions, it is your duty, nay, your very purpose, to ensure that your minions do not go without your guidance.” He adds the last bit quite proud of himself. Surely some flattery will set this mad gnome’s mind at ease and send him off on a wild goose chase to get him out of their hair. Then they can sneak away while he is recruiting the scant wildlife and dying trees as his personal retainers. This will, undoubtably, cause little harm to the gnome and prevent risk to those in Colden’s charge.
Nareth crosses his hands on the chest and shakes his head in disapproval. The captain continues to listen to Colden quietly. He declines taking the gnome's potion, though, but puts down his sword.
The gnome listens to Colden thoughtfully. Then he says, rather enthusiastically:
"A minion who believes in his master is sure to succeed, and I find that you are one with faith. Fear not, my faithful minion, for I will show you the way. Let me recollect my thoughts however. I prefer to keep my head unloaded at times, for too much knowledge is disastrous to the mind."
The gnome takes out what appears to be a notebook. As he holds it up against the light and examines it, you can faintly discern: "Doctor Mortimer's Absolutely Amazing Almanac for Aspiring Adventurers - with Additional Astounding Anecdotes" inscribed in large letters on its tattered red cover.
When he speaks again, you seem to find a sudden change in his tone, and he begins to sound serious and scholarly.
"Now let's see. There are innumerable passages hidden in unfathomable depths beneath mountain ranges such as this, caused by geomantic upheavals and elemental action. Glacial erosion by activity of fire spitting lizards and bombardier beetles, also tends to leave temporary gaps in the ice stratum of underground cave systems, which usually get filled back up within a few weeks. However, to find one spanning as far as to cover the entire breadth of a mountain is much rarer, though there are such passages in existence...."
You think that he's probably reading out the lines in the notebook, but a peek into it shows the page to appear totally blank. Suddenly, he pauses, and his tone changes back to what it was.
"Oh, but why am I explaining all this to you? You need not ponder on the details. What matters is that I know of a passage deep beneath these mountains, approximately half a day's walk through. In fact, I was going that very way, when I stumbled upon you merry band of minions. Now, you will follow me down that way. But I need to rest for the night, and so will you."
The gnome looks about the camp.
"Well, you don't happen to have any sweetrolls, do you?'
“You actually know a way through the underpasses of Coras Ugar Facrin?” she says in astonishment.
“I have heard of these tunnels before. They once housed a great occult where evil men used black magic to spread hatred throughout the world. Somehow their magics reached every corner of the valley and even beyond, they say... it is a dark place that my people fear to tread. But I have wondered if it was empty for a long time. I have never met anyone who has ventured there and could show the way.”
She looks thoughtfully at the impossible mountain cliffs and back at the gnome.
“If reports are true, the tunnels are easy to traverse, large enough for several cows to walk abreast and smooth.” She looks hopeful.
Nareth is concerned. He jumps bluntly into conversation. As most of the soldiers in Patrol, he was uneducated and not capable to write and read. As a self-protection gesture against the tiny annoying smarty-pants gnome, reading a book with a plenty of unknown letters on the cover, Nareth adds his blunt remark to Garta's speech:
" Ya seriously wants to rely on this one? He is clearly nuts, just.. just look at him! I can't jeopardize the entire mission by listening to weird folks from wilderness with no name, and crazy omens too! " - Nareth spits on the ground.
Garta looks at Nareth, her eyes flashing. “Did you think that this was going to be an easy journey, Captain?” she says. “This isn’t a jog down the merry streets of Astorwind. We were nearly killed by a sky spirit’s unquenchable wrath today.
“This gnome... thing... whatever he is... may be wrong. He is obviously crazy. There are many like him in the wilderness, driven mad by their exposure to the sky spirits ice rain and black dust. But I have no other solutions. As you know, I can’t scale these cliffs, and by the time we make a ten day journey south and north, we will be almost a week late to the battlefield.
“Perhaps we should turn around and give up on contacting the Bloodeye clan?” She adds the last part with thoughtful sincerity.
Nareth is pissed off. He tries to calm himself down then responds Garta with a voice of determination:
" It IS a hard journey, indeed! What I have learned in my campaigns is that the one should count on himself and his comrades, the brothers in arms. Without hoping to encounter a divine omen or aid. Also without hoping to meet mysterious strangers, who will resolve all problems. I says, ya is injured and ya wants to trust this creature, and follow him forth to the cavern hazards. Calm yourself up, pull yourself together, woman, and do what ya have been asked for by your King: lead us forth to Bloodeye clan. If necessary, I will walk forth with no sleep or food, so me lads will do. But don't ya say about me failing my mission. "
His voice trembles with impatience and ill-restrained anger. He makes a short break to calm himself and continues:
" Aye... But ya might be right. It seems like this.. weirdo with beardo can be our last hope and resort, indeed. But i am strongly against of blind following him into these caverns. This decision I entrust to M'Lord Colden, and himself only."
Hey @Rik_Kirtaniya ! Sorry for the blunt dude I am playing with, I do really enjoy your character, very well played! Just I have to roleplay this grim soldier more or less closely to his reality.
@ashafetov weirdo with beardo lol
Keep up the roleplaying guys, it's fun.
As far as Colden's decision, I will definitely have to leave this one to @Skatan. I can't railroad his character into it or against. He will be back in a few days and hopefully will comment then.
"My friends.. calm yourselves. Let us contemplate together the options we are facing. "
Colden adress the group as a whole, walking and standing himself in the middle and looking at them one at a time comfortably, trying to instill some peace in their minds.
"Option one, walk around the mountain while foraging for food and water on the way. Carrying Garta and delaying our mission undoubtedly. Nay.. this is not a good option."
He adds a dramatic pause and presses his hands on his cloak to remove a crease in the cloth.
"Option two, climbing up and over the mountain with a group of scarcely experienced mountaineers, a companion with a broken leg and without proper equipment.. Nay, this isn't a good option either. "
Another dramatic pause, then he turn and gaze at the strange gnome..
"..or option three, traversing the mountain's undersides with this.. guide. Well, I don't know about you, but to me that seems like the least bad option we have and I for one believe it's the lesser of three evils."
"Gnome.. " Colden now adresses the gnome directly.. "I understand you want the answer of Your Name? You see, I am a scholar of great renown. I specialize in many areas, one of which is Gnomish History. You see, my friend, I've read many a tome about gnomish history, about its heroes and great adventurers like you, and I believe I can tell you your name! If I do, will you then guide us safely through the underpasses and help us on our great mission? I know that no grand adventure can ever be successful without a grand gnome leader guiding his great group!"
Garta nods at Colden, relief evident in her face. She was not looking forward to the trip to the south. She then turns in and you all set watch, this crazy gnome a member of your party.
I'm going to move the story along, though you guys can keep roleplaying as you wish! It's good to have you back, @Skatan . How was your trip?
In the middle of the night, the storm finally starts. Several of you awake with a start, worried that you were about to be pummeled by the ice shards or worse. But it is only innocuous rain, though it is heavy and blown about by the wind. Great flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder in the distance light up the sparkling rain against the black backdrop of the night.
The morning dawns windy and wet, and the lightning strikes grow more frequent. It seems that the storm is falling upon you in greater force, but despite that it feels good to have the rain fall upon this dreary landscape. Though it storms like this many times a year, the black dust quickly drains all the moisture and life out of a region. Storms breath back life into the wild, and you see animals coming out of hiding to drink their long unquenched thirst. It is a foreign sight to you all, for game is scarce, especially this far from Astorwind.
The gnome leads you (babbling inanely about lots of stuff, as narrated by our ever-esteemed @Rik_Kirtaniya in perpetuity) through the rainstorm up the base of the mountain. Kefto and Jirt have created a stretcher for Garta to lay on, though she insists on sitting on it as though laying down somehow shows her to be weak. She orders them about, distrustful of their footing and uncomfortable with the loss of control over her movement.
The surrounding landscape looks much like this, but with rain:
A special thanks to @ashafetov for allowing me to use his amazing artwork in this adventure!
"Blast this raider female," complains Jirt after she loudly berates them following a near misstep. The gnome is leading you into the center of the landscape featured above, towards the back of the valley where the peaks droop. Despite the comparative mildness of the terrain, the footing has grown steeper and treacherous.
"Keep your silence, fool of a soldier!" snaps Garta. "As long as my life is in your hands, you will do as I say or face my wrath! Even without my leg, I can skewer you with my daggers from many yards, so keep your tongue! To be carried about like this as a child, what would my father say...!" she continues to ramble on in anger and self-condemnation. Her warrior pride is injured by this indignity, she says. None of you had better speak of this to anyone, she says.
"This one is quite ungrateful," huffs Kefto, though not loud enough to turn Garta's ire on him.
After about an hour or so of marching, the rain turns to snow. It stings your faces and billows in your clothes as it is bandied about by the wind, though it feels clean and crisp, a sharp contrast to the constant presence of the dust. The footing gets dangerous, but Nareth chooses your path wisely, a minion followed by the ever commanding gnome. Eventually, you round a bend in the mountains and see Nareth standing, looking up at what must be the entrance to Coras Ugar Facrin. Nareth stands there in front of you all for a minute, panting as he looks up the climb to the structure.
This is what you see:
Thanks again to @ashafetov for the beautiful artwork.
Hey @Rik_Kirtaniya ! Sorry for the blunt dude I am playing with, I do really enjoy your character, very well played! Just I have to roleplay this grim soldier more or less closely to his reality.
That's no problem @ashafetov, you're doing the RP very well! I know that your opinions are different from Nareth, so don't worry at all, and no need for any apologies.
Colden looks with awe at the great structure. He feels a tingly feeling from the top of his head and all the way down his spine. His dwarven heritage comes full force at the thought of delving into the great mountain and he feels anticipation, not fear, nor dread. He considers the others might not share this sentiment so he will need to support them best he can.. Oh, how glorious to penetrate the thick stone, into its very heart! What lies therein, what treasures might they find!?
"Treasures? What the hell did that come from.. we have a mission. Focus. On. The mission." He thinks to himself and suppresses the primal urges springing up in him. He collects himself and tries to hide his fervor.
"So it seems we've reached a waypoint in our travels. Gnome, do you know the way inside?"
Garta merely gives Lagrord a withering look, and resumes grumbling at Jirt and Kefto.
The snowfall and wind picks up as you approach the main entrance, following the gnome's scampering and babbling. It's as if the land is shooing you into the catacombs, desperate to be rid of your troublesome treading.
The outside of the castle appears to be strewn with large debris or boulders, but it is all covered up by the snow and black dust, though some shape to the things can be discerned. You suspect they may be long cleaned skeletons of creatures from a bygone age, possibly even before the darkening.
The place certainly has that ancient feel. It is obviously older than any of you. The great structure looms above you, judging you and silently cursing at you, daring you to enter its depths and plunder its secrets.
As you climb the crumbling steps to the broken stone door, you notice a faded warning, torn and stained by the constant wind and black dust, hanging above the door. It is barely legible and bears the dreadful name that Garta spoke of in fearful whispers, that of Coras Ugar Facrin. She hisses when she sees it and makes a superstitious gesture to ward off the evil spirits.
The gnome walks up the stairs and upto the door, and turns back at the rest of the party, who are following behind. He shouts at them: "Vamonos, Minions! Arriba! Arriba!"
@mashedtaters and @Rik_Kirtaniya you are more than welcome guys, and thanks for the kind feedback. I am glad my old illustrations and Icewind Dale fan-arts were handy.
Colden walks up after the gnome and slowly inspects the entrance and the sign. He sees there seem to be missing letters and that the name is a faded distortion of what this place was probably originally called. The hairs on his arms rise and the tingling feeling comes back full force as both his dwarven heritage and his lorekeeper sides clash together at the thought of this great adventure.
"Why have I spent so many decades in doors, reading other peoples' writings when I could have been out here experiencing it all myself?!" he thinks to himself.
We should be wary though.. I don't think the gnome is purposefully misguiding us, but he's crazy and could lead us into traps by mistake.
"Laggie, can you examine the entrance before we rush in? Better safe than sorry, I reckon.. " With this, Colden steps aside and waves to Lagrord to come closer and inspect the entrance. He knows Lagrord has many talents and keen eyes.
Reaching the top of the entrance, Nareth stopped for a while to catch his breath. His dismal foreboding grew stronger as the party approached the ruins. The mild euphoria and awe of what he saw quickly changed to fatigue of ascending the snowy mountain.
He put his saddle bags near the entrance and stared at the sign in perplexity. The captain was a rather superstitious type of person, but he had absolutely no feelings for pagan signs or omens. The expression of “what's next?” drawn on his face, he gazed inquiringly at Colden:
" M'Lord Colden, I will give this young lad a hand. Lagrord, let me check the entrance with ya, wait a minute. Jirt, Kefto! Cover us both... ", the captain takes the buckler off from his back and quickly walks towards the entrance.
"Listen, my faithful minions! As much as I know that you are very eager to go on this little summer picnic trip into the depths of these Dwarven ruins, you must still follow the rules. Yes!
"Number 1: No loitering about on your own without the supervision of your master and guide, that is, meee!
"Number 2: Always keep to the pavement. No stepping on grass, no stepping on flowers, no stepping on anything else either!
"Number 3: Do not disturb the inhabitants. I have arranged for the permits that will let us enjoy our little trip without any major issues. But you cannot ride on the extra rides! No water rides as well!
"Number 4: Always ask me before you do anything. Anything? Anything!
"Number 5: No lollygagging!
"I know you have listened to me and have understood everything. And I also know you do not have any questions now, and even if you may have had any, they are solved. So now before we proceed..."
The gnome walks up to the door, adjusts a few lenses on his optical contraption, and examines the door.
Comments
" Answer fiend! Or I will crush your head! And stop touching me, this is the first and the last warning! I am watching ya, and if ya wills something twisted, I swear to the Refiner himself, I kill ya. ", Nareth turns to Colden: " As you command, M'Lord Colden! Ya are condescending, as always."
"Well, then let's dispense with these pleasantries and get to the point. It seems I'll have to ask somebody else about this issue. I don't like accusing my minions of treachery."
The gnome calms down:
"It appears that though you band of minions might be strong and tough, you lack direction and insight, and are thus wandering around like helpless cattle! You need a master to guide you! And today is your lucky day, for I shall take you all into my service. Yes! I can see the joy in your faces! Now... we have a secret treasure to find!"
Hearing Nareth's angry words:
"Oooh, I like your spirit, Minion! You certainly walk as a lion amongst sheep! But there are far more dangerous creatures than lions. Yes... soooooo, you should put this armour oil on you! All right, I'll let you do it yourself, since you appear capable enough."
Figuring that the rewards outweigh any potential risks, he decides to tell the gnome.
“We are indeed a bit directionless,” he says, smiling at the gnome’s antics, and also fondly at the soldier’s reaction despite himself. “We need to get to Warne-Hardard Wast. I’m told it is on the other side of this mountain, but with our injured guide, we have no way of scaling the cliffs.”
Garta interrupts. “I can make the climb,” she hisses, defensive instantly.
Colden makes a calming gesture in the air with his hand. “No one is questioning your capabilities or your drive,” says Colden smoothly. “But one of your vast knowledge seems experienced enough to know that such a perilous journey with your injury, while easy for you, I’m sure, while hale, could be disastrous for the rest of us less experienced climbers.” He smiles disarmingly through his trim beard, and brushes himself as thought the matter is clearly settled by his rational, and no doubt smoothly put (he rather thinks), argument.
Garta sits back, grudgingly placated and pouting.
“Perhaps my good gnome might know a way to Warne-Harsard Wast on the other side of this mountain range?” he says to the gnome without particular hope or conviction. “As the lord or master of your minions, it is your duty, nay, your very purpose, to ensure that your minions do not go without your guidance.” He adds the last bit quite proud of himself. Surely some flattery will set this mad gnome’s mind at ease and send him off on a wild goose chase to get him out of their hair. Then they can sneak away while he is recruiting the scant wildlife and dying trees as his personal retainers. This will, undoubtably, cause little harm to the gnome and prevent risk to those in Colden’s charge.
imagine. But it isn’t him, and we miss you.
"A minion who believes in his master is sure to succeed, and I find that you are one with faith. Fear not, my faithful minion, for I will show you the way. Let me recollect my thoughts however. I prefer to keep my head unloaded at times, for too much knowledge is disastrous to the mind."
The gnome takes out what appears to be a notebook. As he holds it up against the light and examines it, you can faintly discern: "Doctor Mortimer's Absolutely Amazing Almanac for Aspiring Adventurers - with Additional Astounding Anecdotes" inscribed in large letters on its tattered red cover.
When he speaks again, you seem to find a sudden change in his tone, and he begins to sound serious and scholarly.
"Now let's see. There are innumerable passages hidden in unfathomable depths beneath mountain ranges such as this, caused by geomantic upheavals and elemental action. Glacial erosion by activity of fire spitting lizards and bombardier beetles, also tends to leave temporary gaps in the ice stratum of underground cave systems, which usually get filled back up within a few weeks. However, to find one spanning as far as to cover the entire breadth of a mountain is much rarer, though there are such passages in existence...."
You think that he's probably reading out the lines in the notebook, but a peek into it shows the page to appear totally blank. Suddenly, he pauses, and his tone changes back to what it was.
"Oh, but why am I explaining all this to you? You need not ponder on the details. What matters is that I know of a passage deep beneath these mountains, approximately half a day's walk through. In fact, I was going that very way, when I stumbled upon you merry band of minions. Now, you will follow me down that way. But I need to rest for the night, and so will you."
The gnome looks about the camp.
"Well, you don't happen to have any sweetrolls, do you?'
“You actually know a way through the underpasses of Coras Ugar Facrin?” she says in astonishment.
“I have heard of these tunnels before. They once housed a great occult where evil men used black magic to spread hatred throughout the world. Somehow their magics reached every corner of the valley and even beyond, they say... it is a dark place that my people fear to tread. But I have wondered if it was empty for a long time. I have never met anyone who has ventured there and could show the way.”
She looks thoughtfully at the impossible mountain cliffs and back at the gnome.
“If reports are true, the tunnels are easy to traverse, large enough for several cows to walk abreast and smooth.” She looks hopeful.
" Ya seriously wants to rely on this one? He is clearly nuts, just.. just look at him! I can't jeopardize the entire mission by listening to weird folks from wilderness with no name, and crazy omens too! " - Nareth spits on the ground.
“This gnome... thing... whatever he is... may be wrong. He is obviously crazy. There are many like him in the wilderness, driven mad by their exposure to the sky spirits ice rain and black dust. But I have no other solutions. As you know, I can’t scale these cliffs, and by the time we make a ten day journey south and north, we will be almost a week late to the battlefield.
“Perhaps we should turn around and give up on contacting the Bloodeye clan?” She adds the last part with thoughtful sincerity.
" It IS a hard journey, indeed! What I have learned in my campaigns is that the one should count on himself and his comrades, the brothers in arms. Without hoping to encounter a divine omen or aid. Also without hoping to meet mysterious strangers, who will resolve all problems. I says, ya is injured and ya wants to trust this creature, and follow him forth to the cavern hazards. Calm yourself up, pull yourself together, woman, and do what ya have been asked for by your King: lead us forth to Bloodeye clan. If necessary, I will walk forth with no sleep or food, so me lads will do. But don't ya say about me failing my mission. "
His voice trembles with impatience and ill-restrained anger. He makes a short break to calm himself and continues:
" Aye... But ya might be right. It seems like this.. weirdo with beardo can be our last hope and resort, indeed. But i am strongly against of blind following him into these caverns. This decision I entrust to M'Lord Colden, and himself only."
Keep up the roleplaying guys, it's fun.
As far as Colden's decision, I will definitely have to leave this one to @Skatan. I can't railroad his character into it or against. He will be back in a few days and hopefully will comment then.
Colden adress the group as a whole, walking and standing himself in the middle and looking at them one at a time comfortably, trying to instill some peace in their minds.
"Option one, walk around the mountain while foraging for food and water on the way. Carrying Garta and delaying our mission undoubtedly. Nay.. this is not a good option."
He adds a dramatic pause and presses his hands on his cloak to remove a crease in the cloth.
"Option two, climbing up and over the mountain with a group of scarcely experienced mountaineers, a companion with a broken leg and without proper equipment.. Nay, this isn't a good option either. "
Another dramatic pause, then he turn and gaze at the strange gnome..
"..or option three, traversing the mountain's undersides with this.. guide. Well, I don't know about you, but to me that seems like the least bad option we have and I for one believe it's the lesser of three evils."
"Gnome.. " Colden now adresses the gnome directly.. "I understand you want the answer of Your Name? You see, I am a scholar of great renown. I specialize in many areas, one of which is Gnomish History. You see, my friend, I've read many a tome about gnomish history, about its heroes and great adventurers like you, and I believe I can tell you your name! If I do, will you then guide us safely through the underpasses and help us on our great mission? I know that no grand adventure can ever be successful without a grand gnome leader guiding his great group!"
" Aye, M'Lord Colden. But I am going to watch this creature. You heard that, Gnome? If you conceive of evil, then you will not be saved. "
In the middle of the night, the storm finally starts. Several of you awake with a start, worried that you were about to be pummeled by the ice shards or worse. But it is only innocuous rain, though it is heavy and blown about by the wind. Great flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder in the distance light up the sparkling rain against the black backdrop of the night.
The morning dawns windy and wet, and the lightning strikes grow more frequent. It seems that the storm is falling upon you in greater force, but despite that it feels good to have the rain fall upon this dreary landscape. Though it storms like this many times a year, the black dust quickly drains all the moisture and life out of a region. Storms breath back life into the wild, and you see animals coming out of hiding to drink their long unquenched thirst. It is a foreign sight to you all, for game is scarce, especially this far from Astorwind.
The gnome leads you (babbling inanely about lots of stuff, as narrated by our ever-esteemed @Rik_Kirtaniya in perpetuity) through the rainstorm up the base of the mountain. Kefto and Jirt have created a stretcher for Garta to lay on, though she insists on sitting on it as though laying down somehow shows her to be weak. She orders them about, distrustful of their footing and uncomfortable with the loss of control over her movement.
The surrounding landscape looks much like this, but with rain:
"Keep your silence, fool of a soldier!" snaps Garta. "As long as my life is in your hands, you will do as I say or face my wrath! Even without my leg, I can skewer you with my daggers from many yards, so keep your tongue! To be carried about like this as a child, what would my father say...!" she continues to ramble on in anger and self-condemnation. Her warrior pride is injured by this indignity, she says. None of you had better speak of this to anyone, she says.
"This one is quite ungrateful," huffs Kefto, though not loud enough to turn Garta's ire on him.
After about an hour or so of marching, the rain turns to snow. It stings your faces and billows in your clothes as it is bandied about by the wind, though it feels clean and crisp, a sharp contrast to the constant presence of the dust. The footing gets dangerous, but Nareth chooses your path wisely, a minion followed by the ever commanding gnome. Eventually, you round a bend in the mountains and see Nareth standing, looking up at what must be the entrance to Coras Ugar Facrin. Nareth stands there in front of you all for a minute, panting as he looks up the climb to the structure.
This is what you see:
That's no problem @ashafetov, you're doing the RP very well!
The last words carry a sinister note.
"Speaking of which... WHERE ARE MY SWEETROLLS?"
"I don't suppose you knwo how to make sweetrolls? I fear that is all we will be hearing of for the duration."
*He flashes what he thinks is a confident smile her direction*
"Treasures? What the hell did that come from.. we have a mission. Focus. On. The mission." He thinks to himself and suppresses the primal urges springing up in him. He collects himself and tries to hide his fervor.
"So it seems we've reached a waypoint in our travels. Gnome, do you know the way inside?"
The snowfall and wind picks up as you approach the main entrance, following the gnome's scampering and babbling. It's as if the land is shooing you into the catacombs, desperate to be rid of your troublesome treading.
The outside of the castle appears to be strewn with large debris or boulders, but it is all covered up by the snow and black dust, though some shape to the things can be discerned. You suspect they may be long cleaned skeletons of creatures from a bygone age, possibly even before the darkening.
The place certainly has that ancient feel. It is obviously older than any of you. The great structure looms above you, judging you and silently cursing at you, daring you to enter its depths and plunder its secrets.
As you climb the crumbling steps to the broken stone door, you notice a faded warning, torn and stained by the constant wind and black dust, hanging above the door. It is barely legible and bears the dreadful name that Garta spoke of in fearful whispers, that of Coras Ugar Facrin. She hisses when she sees it and makes a superstitious gesture to ward off the evil spirits.
It looks something like this:
"Why have I spent so many decades in doors, reading other peoples' writings when I could have been out here experiencing it all myself?!" he thinks to himself.
We should be wary though.. I don't think the gnome is purposefully misguiding us, but he's crazy and could lead us into traps by mistake.
"Laggie, can you examine the entrance before we rush in? Better safe than sorry, I reckon.. " With this, Colden steps aside and waves to Lagrord to come closer and inspect the entrance. He knows Lagrord has many talents and keen eyes.
He put his saddle bags near the entrance and stared at the sign in perplexity. The captain was a rather superstitious type of person, but he had absolutely no feelings for pagan signs or omens. The expression of “what's next?” drawn on his face, he gazed inquiringly at Colden:
" M'Lord Colden, I will give this young lad a hand. Lagrord, let me check the entrance with ya, wait a minute. Jirt, Kefto! Cover us both... ", the captain takes the buckler off from his back and quickly walks towards the entrance.
"Listen, my faithful minions! As much as I know that you are very eager to go on this little summer picnic trip into the depths of these Dwarven ruins, you must still follow the rules. Yes!
"Number 1: No loitering about on your own without the supervision of your master and guide, that is, meee!
"Number 2: Always keep to the pavement. No stepping on grass, no stepping on flowers, no stepping on anything else either!
"Number 3: Do not disturb the inhabitants. I have arranged for the permits that will let us enjoy our little trip without any major issues. But you cannot ride on the extra rides! No water rides as well!
"Number 4: Always ask me before you do anything. Anything? Anything!
"Number 5: No lollygagging!
"I know you have listened to me and have understood everything. And I also know you do not have any questions now, and even if you may have had any, they are solved. So now before we proceed..."
The gnome walks up to the door, adjusts a few lenses on his optical contraption, and examines the door.