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<blockquote data-quote="Lwaxy" data-source="post: 5811608" data-attributes="member: 53286"><p>Edawon basically flew down the somewhat slippery stairs, surefooted as most of the time. His right hand was already holding on to the crossbow by the time he arrived at the landing one level down. The remnant of a bitter scent was hanging over the area. He recognized sleep wort and calm bark as the main ingredients of whatever Cajun must have thrown at the snoring troglodytes in their makeshift barracks. The door to the left was ajar, and the sound of fighting could be heard, including a curse from Zaza. Peeking through, he could see Cajun engaged in battle with a young but tall and strong troglodyte, while Zaza was trying to get another shot in. An arrow was sticking out of the left shoulder of their foe, but it didn't look like she had done any real damage. The troglodyte was making a good job out of keeping Cajun between himself and the rogue, making it hard for Zaza not to accidentally hit her brother. </p><p></p><p>Cajun's hammer blocked the javelin of his opponent. It did not break, however, just vibrated. Cajun attacked again, and the troglodyte simply ducked out under the more clumsy weapon, dancing back a few staps with what looked like a sneer, again using the half-orc as cover. </p><p></p><p>The stench down here was worse than anywhere else they had been, and Edawon could see that Zaza was about to vomit again. Holding his breath, he entered the room and fanned out to the right. The reptile would have a hard time using Cajun as cover for both of them. A moment later, he managed to get a clear line of fire already and sent a bolt at the back of their enemy. </p><p></p><p>Until now, the troglodyte had not really noticed him, concentrating fully on avoiding the blows of the now very angry half-orc. Now that a crossbow bolt planted itself into its tail – not quite where the ranger had aimed at – it instinctively swirled around with a loud growl and more nauseating stench. The distraction was all Cajun needed to finally get through the cover and land a crushing blow on the reptile's right shoulder. With a screech, it dropped its weapon. </p><p></p><p>If they had thought it defeated, they were utterly wrong, though. A howl that was a mix of anger and pain came from the reptile's snout as it hurled itself at Cajun, using claws and teeth to rip into the alchemist, who had no chance to use his hammer so quickly. Both Zaza and Hest sank more bolts into the back of the creature. Cajun went down with a curse. Being pinned down by the weight of his opponent he lost his grip on his weapon. Zaza hurried across the room, drawing her short sword now – one of those they had taken from the island's dead. Before Edawon could decide on any other course of action, it was all over as Zaza jumped on the back of the attacker and sank her sword half into its neck. The troglodyte collapsed. Zaza rolled off it and started to vomit again. </p><p></p><p>With some difficulty, Cajun shoved the body off of himself. He had scratches in the face, and his leather armor was ripped and torn, but it had protected him well enough. "Ogrepiss," he cursed, what was unusual for the well mannered youth. "And that's what Samin wanted to leave in our back unchecked." </p><p></p><p>"Thanks for the help," Zaza gasped as she was finally done retching. "I killed it, didn't I?"</p><p></p><p>"Sure looks like it." Edawon kicked the body and then pulled the sword out of it. "You may want this back." </p><p></p><p>Zaza nodded and took the sword, which the ranger mostly cleaned on the body of their fallen foe, back into her possession. "So what now?" </p><p></p><p>"There are some more rooms," Cajun pointed out, trying to ignore his burning scratches. "I'll be damned if I leave before i know what is in there."</p><p></p><p>"Look at this," Zaza pointed to a corner where a rusty box was open. . Several parts of non-troglodyte equipment in good state could be seen in there. "That's not from the reptiles. And it looks relatively new. Maybe they have waylaid someone?" The rogue went over to check the bundle. "Yeah, there is quite some stuff in here. Spells, potions, a rope, clothes, bow and arrows, leather armor, rapier... and hey, what's this?" The halfling held up a compass like object which was giving off a faint light. </p><p></p><p>"I've seen this before," Cajun said. "When we met with this other Pathfinder after the temple affair."</p><p></p><p>"I don't remember.! Zaza put the thing back. "Does this mean they've killed a Pathfinder?"</p><p></p><p>"Likely enough," Edawon grunted. "Let's see what is in the next room, shall we?" </p><p></p><p>"It is locked," Cajun grumbled and went back to the dead reptile to check if there were any keys. He got lucky. "Seems they have something valuable in there."</p><p></p><p>The door opened with a squeak a moment later. The room behind was tiny and dark. The air was stale and smelled somewhat of blood. In the northeast corner of the room, a man bound in manacles looked up with panic and exhaustion in his eyes. </p><p></p><p>"Is that the guy who that gear belongs to?" Zaza went over in a rush, while Cajun followed more slowly. The keys he found fit for the manacles, too. The man in front of them was too weak to stand up on his own, Zaha and Cajun had to lift him to his feet. </p><p></p><p>"Get out of there," Edawon rushed them. "We need to check up on Samin's diplomatic attempts." </p><p></p><p>"Is this your stuff?" Zaza asked, pointing at the box. "Are you are Pathfinder?"</p><p></p><p>Thunder rolled outside, the storm being now in full force. The sound seemed to shake the human from his lethargy. "Yes... yes, I am. My name is Forsend, Balenar Forsend. I was planning to check out this old building when those monsters took me captive."</p><p></p><p>Edawon handed over his water, and Forsend drank hastily. "You look quite beat up."</p><p></p><p>The freed captive nodded and pointed at the body. "That beast beat me up at every opportunity. They wanted me to die for their demon god or something like it. I am lucky not to have been sacrificed yet!" </p><p></p><p>"Get your stuff, then," Cajun said, waving to the others to stall more introductions. Truth to be told, he was already worried about the ranger having let slip the wizard's name. They were, after all, supposed to be dead and had yet to decide on a way to actually keep this presumption alive. Throwing their names around would not help things at all. "We have friends upstairs with the leader of those reptiles and two of the younglings, we bound the others in the next room."</p><p></p><p>"Why not just slay them now?" the human asked. </p><p></p><p>"Not their fault they are what they are," Edawon answered with a weak smile. "We can decide what to do with them once the situation is resolved." With that, he turned and made for upstairs again. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Quite a distance away, in the Molthune port of Korholm, a certain dwarven paladin stood next to the equally dwarven captain at the bow of his ship, looking decidedly impatient, if not angry. The storm pushing the waves up against the docks carried no rain, yet, but it was uncomfortably cold and not a situation in you wanted a boat like the Black Mist to be out and about. Captain Cygar was well aware of the fact and had decided to stop here rather than some unnamed bay a bit further west and risk being smashed against the shore. </p><p></p><p>"So, they are not letting me off the boat because I'm a paladin, or because I am a citizen of Nirmathas?" he inquired. </p><p></p><p>"Both, actually," the other dwarf said. "Paladins of Nirmathas have had quite a hand lately at thwarting the Molthune's army's attempts at invading."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, I do not doubt that. But I have never been a part of Nirmathas' forces, one way or the other."</p><p></p><p>"Strictly speaking, neither are the other paladins, but as they see the Molthune state as a basically evil system, which, no doubt, it is... asides, I thought every Nirmathi was part of their forces."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah yeah," Bjön waved at the docks were guards were posted. "This basically means that they will turn back or worse, imprison or kill anyone going across the border if they suspect them to be of Nirmathas origin, right?"</p><p></p><p>"I'm afraid so," the captain nodded. "Why, do you want to visit someone?"</p><p></p><p>Thinking of the route he had planned him and Teltz to take to reunite with the others, the paladin grunted even more annoyed. "Yeah but I guess that will have to wait for some time."</p><p></p><p>"Times are rough, and they are about to get rougher all over the world, I guess. To set things right, we'd need a lot more paladins and other heroes, for the Worldwound alone." Cygar chuckled. "Or a really epic group of heroes, as in the very old sagas from before time."</p><p></p><p>For some reason, Bjön shivered when the captain said that, and not only from the icy wind. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Samin felt exhaused, on a profound level independent of rest, food and drink or even the use of magic. He had had to renew his tongue spell twice, and he could not do it any more despite of his focus, but his magic potential was not used up yet. No, his exhaustion seemed to mostly stem from the fact that he had negotiated and talked and... done something else. Something that way beyond his control. Half the time, he had not been sure what his next words were when he had started talking, yet somehow he always seemed to say the right thing, calming the troglodytes here and reassuring them there, showing both understanding and power at the same time. Their demon god, he had soon seen, was the only thing they knew in the ways of religion, and he had wished a few times that Bjön was here to have a way to maybe set them on a lighter path. What he had, instead, was a stuttering oracle spreading a pleasant scent. What the troglodytes, or more specific, their leader, really wanted was a place out of the dark caverns back into the world they had once, so long ago, ruled in a more or less oppressive way. That was why they had prepared to make a human sacrifice. Samin had not managed to get specifics out of the druid, just that it didn't refer to their group. </p><p></p><p>But Mook had done her part, unexpectedly. In the strange way of oracles, she had suddenly spoken up in the mingled draconic dialect of the troglodytes. To Samin's annoyance, he only got the beginning, something about the change of tides and winds blowing in different directions. The moment Mook's alter ego – as he usually called it when she went on such speaking in tongues without her stutter, which happened rarely enough – started addressing the troglodyte group's situation specifically, his spell ended and he couldn't understand a thing. </p><p></p><p>The group from below came up to the top level just when Mook started speaking. The eyes of the Pathfinder with them widened at the sight; he of course recognized Mook for what she was. When the oracle was done, a long silence fell. Just before everyone was beginning to feel uncomfortable, the troglodyte raised a hand and pointed at the Pathfinder. In very broken common, he addressed them all. "Him keep, help clean temple yes? Make boney spirits go way. Do we will for woman say."</p><p></p><p>"Boney spirits?" Cajun mumbled, barely able to get the gist of the speech. "Sounds like undead all over again."</p><p></p><p>"We'll help," Samin nodded without asking anyone else. Suddenly, he had been shifted to the leader position. "But we need rest, now. It is getting late." The air in the damaged tower was in no way warmer that outside, and they would need to get a fire going. At least the air was still filled with that pleasant smell Mook somehow created.</p><p></p><p>Cajun had managed to work his way to Samin. "Say, can you make our rescue guy sleep with a spell, without him noticing? He is exhausted enough. Before we do anything else, we need to talk. Without anyone listening in!" The alchemist said it with as much insistence as he could muster. </p><p></p><p>Samin nodded, waiting for the Pathfinder to turn and stare after the troglodytes – the younglings going down to free their companions after Zaza had used hands and feet to explain what had transpired, and their druid to the back of the room to sit in his ruined throne. Brenn-Krell caught the man before he fell, but then to everyone's surprise toppled over shivering and seizing.</p><p></p><p>Kronk was at the fetchling's side immediately. "He's transforming back. Let's go back down. They don't need to see," he indicated the troglodytes. "Can you carry him?"</p><p></p><p>He was tired and aching from the fight before, but Cajun still nodded and lifted the fetchling, who was surprisingly light. Samin and Kronk carried the much lighter, almost starved Pathfinder and his belongings downwards to where they had left their stuff before climbing up. There they made a makeshift camp right in the stairway, as the smoke could go up and it was a place more easily kept warm. </p><p></p><p>"We need to talk," Cajun replied as he made the fetchling comfortable. Edawon has let slim your name, Samin, and if the Pathfinder remembers later and tells someone the Society will know we are not dead and probably hunt us for not delivering what they wanted to get their hands on, maybe even believing we still have it. Bjön warned us of such!"</p><p></p><p>The halfling ranger paled a little, realizing he had made a bad mistake. "I'm so sorry, it is just..."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, we all need to get used to this. We need new cover names. A change of appearance," Cajun said, well aware how difficult that would be for some of them, specifically him and the kobold. </p><p></p><p>"Yes, all that is good and well." Kronk snarled. "But can it wait until after he has transformed back?" </p><p></p><p>Everyone looked at the shifting form of Brenn-Krell, who seemed to have some trouble reverting. His skin was still way too grey and his facial features a lot more shadow like. His hair had taken on a greyish blond hue. "Yes, it can wait," Cajun conceeded. "Is this normal?"</p><p></p><p>The monk sighed. "Sometimes... actually, quite often... some of what we transfer into stays behind. That is actually the hope of everyone undertaking the transformation. In the case of kobolds, who did not actually invent this procedure, we all want to be more like dragons, no matter what color we are. Some of us are born with draconic features already. Most others who know about the possibility will strive to get their hands on the substance causing this."</p><p></p><p>"I see. But it is not dangerous, is it?" Zaza felt the man's head, which seemed to be hotter than usual. </p><p></p><p>"Not physically, no. But he might not only retain the knowledge and some appearance of Krell, but also keep some of the memories, and that..."</p><p></p><p>"Y-yes," Mook nodded her understanding. The memories of his ancestor, not quite knowing who he really was, had already stressed the sorcerer a lot. There was no telling what would happen if this state would turn out to be permanent.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lwaxy, post: 5811608, member: 53286"] Edawon basically flew down the somewhat slippery stairs, surefooted as most of the time. His right hand was already holding on to the crossbow by the time he arrived at the landing one level down. The remnant of a bitter scent was hanging over the area. He recognized sleep wort and calm bark as the main ingredients of whatever Cajun must have thrown at the snoring troglodytes in their makeshift barracks. The door to the left was ajar, and the sound of fighting could be heard, including a curse from Zaza. Peeking through, he could see Cajun engaged in battle with a young but tall and strong troglodyte, while Zaza was trying to get another shot in. An arrow was sticking out of the left shoulder of their foe, but it didn't look like she had done any real damage. The troglodyte was making a good job out of keeping Cajun between himself and the rogue, making it hard for Zaza not to accidentally hit her brother. Cajun's hammer blocked the javelin of his opponent. It did not break, however, just vibrated. Cajun attacked again, and the troglodyte simply ducked out under the more clumsy weapon, dancing back a few staps with what looked like a sneer, again using the half-orc as cover. The stench down here was worse than anywhere else they had been, and Edawon could see that Zaza was about to vomit again. Holding his breath, he entered the room and fanned out to the right. The reptile would have a hard time using Cajun as cover for both of them. A moment later, he managed to get a clear line of fire already and sent a bolt at the back of their enemy. Until now, the troglodyte had not really noticed him, concentrating fully on avoiding the blows of the now very angry half-orc. Now that a crossbow bolt planted itself into its tail – not quite where the ranger had aimed at – it instinctively swirled around with a loud growl and more nauseating stench. The distraction was all Cajun needed to finally get through the cover and land a crushing blow on the reptile's right shoulder. With a screech, it dropped its weapon. If they had thought it defeated, they were utterly wrong, though. A howl that was a mix of anger and pain came from the reptile's snout as it hurled itself at Cajun, using claws and teeth to rip into the alchemist, who had no chance to use his hammer so quickly. Both Zaza and Hest sank more bolts into the back of the creature. Cajun went down with a curse. Being pinned down by the weight of his opponent he lost his grip on his weapon. Zaza hurried across the room, drawing her short sword now – one of those they had taken from the island's dead. Before Edawon could decide on any other course of action, it was all over as Zaza jumped on the back of the attacker and sank her sword half into its neck. The troglodyte collapsed. Zaza rolled off it and started to vomit again. With some difficulty, Cajun shoved the body off of himself. He had scratches in the face, and his leather armor was ripped and torn, but it had protected him well enough. "Ogrepiss," he cursed, what was unusual for the well mannered youth. "And that's what Samin wanted to leave in our back unchecked." "Thanks for the help," Zaza gasped as she was finally done retching. "I killed it, didn't I?" "Sure looks like it." Edawon kicked the body and then pulled the sword out of it. "You may want this back." Zaza nodded and took the sword, which the ranger mostly cleaned on the body of their fallen foe, back into her possession. "So what now?" "There are some more rooms," Cajun pointed out, trying to ignore his burning scratches. "I'll be damned if I leave before i know what is in there." "Look at this," Zaza pointed to a corner where a rusty box was open. . Several parts of non-troglodyte equipment in good state could be seen in there. "That's not from the reptiles. And it looks relatively new. Maybe they have waylaid someone?" The rogue went over to check the bundle. "Yeah, there is quite some stuff in here. Spells, potions, a rope, clothes, bow and arrows, leather armor, rapier... and hey, what's this?" The halfling held up a compass like object which was giving off a faint light. "I've seen this before," Cajun said. "When we met with this other Pathfinder after the temple affair." "I don't remember.! Zaza put the thing back. "Does this mean they've killed a Pathfinder?" "Likely enough," Edawon grunted. "Let's see what is in the next room, shall we?" "It is locked," Cajun grumbled and went back to the dead reptile to check if there were any keys. He got lucky. "Seems they have something valuable in there." The door opened with a squeak a moment later. The room behind was tiny and dark. The air was stale and smelled somewhat of blood. In the northeast corner of the room, a man bound in manacles looked up with panic and exhaustion in his eyes. "Is that the guy who that gear belongs to?" Zaza went over in a rush, while Cajun followed more slowly. The keys he found fit for the manacles, too. The man in front of them was too weak to stand up on his own, Zaha and Cajun had to lift him to his feet. "Get out of there," Edawon rushed them. "We need to check up on Samin's diplomatic attempts." "Is this your stuff?" Zaza asked, pointing at the box. "Are you are Pathfinder?" Thunder rolled outside, the storm being now in full force. The sound seemed to shake the human from his lethargy. "Yes... yes, I am. My name is Forsend, Balenar Forsend. I was planning to check out this old building when those monsters took me captive." Edawon handed over his water, and Forsend drank hastily. "You look quite beat up." The freed captive nodded and pointed at the body. "That beast beat me up at every opportunity. They wanted me to die for their demon god or something like it. I am lucky not to have been sacrificed yet!" "Get your stuff, then," Cajun said, waving to the others to stall more introductions. Truth to be told, he was already worried about the ranger having let slip the wizard's name. They were, after all, supposed to be dead and had yet to decide on a way to actually keep this presumption alive. Throwing their names around would not help things at all. "We have friends upstairs with the leader of those reptiles and two of the younglings, we bound the others in the next room." "Why not just slay them now?" the human asked. "Not their fault they are what they are," Edawon answered with a weak smile. "We can decide what to do with them once the situation is resolved." With that, he turned and made for upstairs again. Quite a distance away, in the Molthune port of Korholm, a certain dwarven paladin stood next to the equally dwarven captain at the bow of his ship, looking decidedly impatient, if not angry. The storm pushing the waves up against the docks carried no rain, yet, but it was uncomfortably cold and not a situation in you wanted a boat like the Black Mist to be out and about. Captain Cygar was well aware of the fact and had decided to stop here rather than some unnamed bay a bit further west and risk being smashed against the shore. "So, they are not letting me off the boat because I'm a paladin, or because I am a citizen of Nirmathas?" he inquired. "Both, actually," the other dwarf said. "Paladins of Nirmathas have had quite a hand lately at thwarting the Molthune's army's attempts at invading." "Yeah, I do not doubt that. But I have never been a part of Nirmathas' forces, one way or the other." "Strictly speaking, neither are the other paladins, but as they see the Molthune state as a basically evil system, which, no doubt, it is... asides, I thought every Nirmathi was part of their forces." "Yeah yeah," Bjön waved at the docks were guards were posted. "This basically means that they will turn back or worse, imprison or kill anyone going across the border if they suspect them to be of Nirmathas origin, right?" "I'm afraid so," the captain nodded. "Why, do you want to visit someone?" Thinking of the route he had planned him and Teltz to take to reunite with the others, the paladin grunted even more annoyed. "Yeah but I guess that will have to wait for some time." "Times are rough, and they are about to get rougher all over the world, I guess. To set things right, we'd need a lot more paladins and other heroes, for the Worldwound alone." Cygar chuckled. "Or a really epic group of heroes, as in the very old sagas from before time." For some reason, Bjön shivered when the captain said that, and not only from the icy wind. Samin felt exhaused, on a profound level independent of rest, food and drink or even the use of magic. He had had to renew his tongue spell twice, and he could not do it any more despite of his focus, but his magic potential was not used up yet. No, his exhaustion seemed to mostly stem from the fact that he had negotiated and talked and... done something else. Something that way beyond his control. Half the time, he had not been sure what his next words were when he had started talking, yet somehow he always seemed to say the right thing, calming the troglodytes here and reassuring them there, showing both understanding and power at the same time. Their demon god, he had soon seen, was the only thing they knew in the ways of religion, and he had wished a few times that Bjön was here to have a way to maybe set them on a lighter path. What he had, instead, was a stuttering oracle spreading a pleasant scent. What the troglodytes, or more specific, their leader, really wanted was a place out of the dark caverns back into the world they had once, so long ago, ruled in a more or less oppressive way. That was why they had prepared to make a human sacrifice. Samin had not managed to get specifics out of the druid, just that it didn't refer to their group. But Mook had done her part, unexpectedly. In the strange way of oracles, she had suddenly spoken up in the mingled draconic dialect of the troglodytes. To Samin's annoyance, he only got the beginning, something about the change of tides and winds blowing in different directions. The moment Mook's alter ego – as he usually called it when she went on such speaking in tongues without her stutter, which happened rarely enough – started addressing the troglodyte group's situation specifically, his spell ended and he couldn't understand a thing. The group from below came up to the top level just when Mook started speaking. The eyes of the Pathfinder with them widened at the sight; he of course recognized Mook for what she was. When the oracle was done, a long silence fell. Just before everyone was beginning to feel uncomfortable, the troglodyte raised a hand and pointed at the Pathfinder. In very broken common, he addressed them all. "Him keep, help clean temple yes? Make boney spirits go way. Do we will for woman say." "Boney spirits?" Cajun mumbled, barely able to get the gist of the speech. "Sounds like undead all over again." "We'll help," Samin nodded without asking anyone else. Suddenly, he had been shifted to the leader position. "But we need rest, now. It is getting late." The air in the damaged tower was in no way warmer that outside, and they would need to get a fire going. At least the air was still filled with that pleasant smell Mook somehow created. Cajun had managed to work his way to Samin. "Say, can you make our rescue guy sleep with a spell, without him noticing? He is exhausted enough. Before we do anything else, we need to talk. Without anyone listening in!" The alchemist said it with as much insistence as he could muster. Samin nodded, waiting for the Pathfinder to turn and stare after the troglodytes – the younglings going down to free their companions after Zaza had used hands and feet to explain what had transpired, and their druid to the back of the room to sit in his ruined throne. Brenn-Krell caught the man before he fell, but then to everyone's surprise toppled over shivering and seizing. Kronk was at the fetchling's side immediately. "He's transforming back. Let's go back down. They don't need to see," he indicated the troglodytes. "Can you carry him?" He was tired and aching from the fight before, but Cajun still nodded and lifted the fetchling, who was surprisingly light. Samin and Kronk carried the much lighter, almost starved Pathfinder and his belongings downwards to where they had left their stuff before climbing up. There they made a makeshift camp right in the stairway, as the smoke could go up and it was a place more easily kept warm. "We need to talk," Cajun replied as he made the fetchling comfortable. Edawon has let slim your name, Samin, and if the Pathfinder remembers later and tells someone the Society will know we are not dead and probably hunt us for not delivering what they wanted to get their hands on, maybe even believing we still have it. Bjön warned us of such!" The halfling ranger paled a little, realizing he had made a bad mistake. "I'm so sorry, it is just..." "Yeah, we all need to get used to this. We need new cover names. A change of appearance," Cajun said, well aware how difficult that would be for some of them, specifically him and the kobold. "Yes, all that is good and well." Kronk snarled. "But can it wait until after he has transformed back?" Everyone looked at the shifting form of Brenn-Krell, who seemed to have some trouble reverting. His skin was still way too grey and his facial features a lot more shadow like. His hair had taken on a greyish blond hue. "Yes, it can wait," Cajun conceeded. "Is this normal?" The monk sighed. "Sometimes... actually, quite often... some of what we transfer into stays behind. That is actually the hope of everyone undertaking the transformation. In the case of kobolds, who did not actually invent this procedure, we all want to be more like dragons, no matter what color we are. Some of us are born with draconic features already. Most others who know about the possibility will strive to get their hands on the substance causing this." "I see. But it is not dangerous, is it?" Zaza felt the man's head, which seemed to be hotter than usual. "Not physically, no. But he might not only retain the knowledge and some appearance of Krell, but also keep some of the memories, and that..." "Y-yes," Mook nodded her understanding. The memories of his ancestor, not quite knowing who he really was, had already stressed the sorcerer a lot. There was no telling what would happen if this state would turn out to be permanent. [/QUOTE]
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