GREYHAWK CY 576: GREAT LEGENDS RETOLD -- CAMPAIGN THREAD

[MacConnell]

Retrieving his illuminated stone and cupping it tightly in his left hand in order to temporarily quell its illumination, Sphynx cocks his head to the side like some animal studying a puzzle. Not being able to speak Dwarven, he continues to communicate in common. "It seems you have sustained even more abuse in the past than I have. Good to see that you have withstood such without losing your sense of identity and descending into the depth of psychosis."

Gesturing at the deceased combatant, "Anything worth while on that one you do not want?"

Looking at the others, "With all of this talking and light, I should expect unwelcome company soon. We should be ready."

 

[Aust Thale]

Quixt:
Watching carefully and quietly, Quixt muffles the light on his torch and makes a mental note to add a magical feature as early as he is able, that being the ability to adjust the illumination of the torch. He comes into view of the dwarf, nodding respectfully. Being rather fond of dwarves, halflings, and other "shorter folk", he grimaces at the scars on Ordred's face. This fellow must be tough indeed to endure wounds of that sort.
"Quixt here, at your service, Master Dwarf," he whispers and taps the torch against his knee, snuffing out the light. He tenses as his eyes adjust to the darkness.

 

[narayan]

Retrieving his illuminated stone and cupping it tightly in his left hand in order to temporarily quell its illumination, Sphynx cocks his head to the side like some animal studying a puzzle. Not being able to speak Dwarven, he continues to communicate in common. "It seems you have sustained even more abuse in the past than I have. Good to see that you have withstood such without losing your sense of identity and descending into the depth of psychosis."

Ordred does not appear to take offense at the elf's stare, though he is somewhat put-off by his overly familiar remarks. ~I don't know exactly what to make of this elf? He speaks his mind to be sure, and I don't sense a desire to be rude on his part (at least not intentionally) but for someone I just met it takes a lot of nerve to take one look at my face and decide I haven't lost my sense of identity.~ Ordred thought with a somewhat baffled tightness of his brow ~However, would that I never suffered these scars, would I still find myself here killing kobolds? Has my identity changed?~ Ordred pondered ~I will have to think on this and pray.~

"Quixt here, at your service, Master Dwarf,"

Ordred returns the nod politely ignoring the grimace.

Gesturing at the deceased combatant, "Anything worth while on that one you do not want?"

-Speaking Common- "No, nothing. The only thing of rrreal falue possessed by these crrreatures are items made frrrom Rrrose Gold Irrron Orrre. That's what I haft came forrr." Ordred responds, adding, "This one had a butcherrrs knife made frrrom the orrre. I'fe already taken it for myself, as well as many cookwarrre items storrred herrre that werrre made frrrom the orrre."

Looking at the others, "With all of this talking and light, I should expect unwelcome company soon. We should be ready."

-Speaking Common- "Aye that may be true, but if we don't talk now, what arrre we supposed to do? What arrre you herrre forrr?" Ordred asks as a general question to the others.

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

With the big torch out, and the light stone shrouded, the dim illumination no longer poses a threat to alerting anyone more than 30 feet away. With the group gathered in the storage room, Nimbar pulls the door almost to the closing point, but not quite. He continues to whisper, as a precaution.

Nimbar whispers, in Common, "We're here for the ore as well. We are tasked with retrieving some for the person who hired us. I am sure that there will be plenty of ore for all of us to share. Why don't you join us? By the way, I'm Nimbar Gustavsson, scout, tracker, and dabbler in magicks. Pleased to meet you, Ordred."

 

[MacConnell]

OOC: Background and description for Sphynx: 3.5 - GREYHAWK CY 576: GREAT LEGENDS RETOLD -- CHARACTER RECORD THREAD

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

Spoiler: Supplemental Info: Map of the Hallway to the Limit of Ordred's Darkvision

You guys are in room #3; Ordred informs the party that if Kobolds are here, they are further down the hallway.

 

[MacConnell]

Sphynx wiggles his mouth like a cat wiggling its whiskers. He looks from face to face of each person, nodding and moves back to the hall. ~I wonder what I have hired myself into. Three different factions, two of which are from afar, are all here looking for the same metal. Two seem to have a wealth benefactor, and this new fellow is wearing enough metal to feed a sizable village for a year. He does not seem very friendly, but I have not met very many priests or Dwarves. I hope none of these people turns out to be malevolent. I have seen enough of that.~

"I will take point, if we are ready to proceed. Quixt is it? We should be needing that nifty light again to move on. I am going to toss this pebble down the hall. I figure we cannot avoid attracting attention, anyway. This stone will allow us to get a better view of what is ahead and maybe give us a few second before any... hostilities focus on us."

 

[narayan]

With the big torch out, and the light stone shrouded, the dim illumination no longer poses a threat to alerting anyone more than 30 feet away. With the group gathered in the storage room, Nimbar pulls the door almost to the closing point, but not quite. He continues to whisper, as a precaution.

Nimbar whispers, in Common, "We're here for the ore as well. We are tasked with retrieving some for the person who hired us. I am sure that there will be plenty of ore for all of us to share. Why don't you join us? By the way, I'm Nimbar Gustavsson, scout, tracker, and dabbler in magicks. Pleased to meet you, Ordred."

-Speaking Common- "Pleased to meet you Nimbarrr." Ordred replies in a low voice.

Sphynx wiggles his mouth like a cat wiggling its whiskers. He looks from face to face of each person, nodding and moves back to the hall. ~I wonder what I have hired myself into. Three different factions, two of which are from afar, are all here looking for the same metal. Two seem to have a wealth benefactor, and this new fellow is wearing enough metal to feed a sizable village for a year. He does not seem very friendly, but I have not met very many priests or Dwarves. I hope none of these people turns out to be malevolent. I have seen enough of that.~

"I will take point, if we are ready to proceed. Quixt is it? We should be needing that nifty light again to move on. I am going to toss this pebble down the hall. I figure we cannot avoid attracting attention, anyway. This stone will allow us to get a better view of what is ahead and maybe give us a few second before any... hostilities focus on us."

-Speaking Common- "Why don't I scout ahead instead?" Ordred proposes to everyone in a low voice. "I can see just as well in the darrrkness as the Kobolds and despite what the elf seems to think, I am quite capable of sneaking thrrrough these cafes quietly." He states confidently. "Beforrre I was a Clerrric, I sufferrred captivity among the evil trrribes of the Pomarrrj." He says with obvious undertones of anger and hatred. "Durrring those long yearrrs of brrrutality, my surrrfifal rrrequirrred mofing unseen and learrrning to disable trrraps so I could escape. Forrrtunately I alrrready knew how to open locks." He adds with a twisted expression barely recognizable as a smirk. "The IrrronLock family arrre master crrraftsmen and locksmiths." He states matter-of-factly with no small hint of pride.

 

[MacConnell]

Sphynx shrugs his shoulders and cocks his head to one side, quickly in a gesture of acquiescence. "Okay."

He leaves his stone secure in his pocket. "I will take the rear guard. I will lag at the light's edge. I am not much good in a brawl, anyway."

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

Hawke's interest is peaked when he hears of both The Pomarj and the Ironlock Family.

Hawke says, "Some of the robber barons of the Wild Coast employ Pomarj mercenaries for border skirmishes; they're always trying to push outward and expand their territory. My cavalry unit was assigned to a Dyvers contingent for 6 months, as part of a cooperative task force, to quell raiders that were pushing north, using the Gnarley Forest as a base of operations. We lost a lot of men in that campaign. It was very bloody, because the raiders knew the forest, and we didn't. We finally won the day through sheer attrition, but at a high cost. The poor decision-making by our leadership was the primary reason I chose not to re-enlist when my four year term was up. I'd had my fill of letting others decide my fate." Hawke pauses a moment, before continuing, "And yes, I've heard the name Ironlock before, as has my friend, Nimbar here. Sir Walter, our employer, has commissioned more than a few custom pieces from your family. We are honored to be in the company of one so skilled as yourself."

Nimbar nods in agreement. "Aye, 'tis an honor indeed. Sir Walter has given many compliments to the workmanship of your family's products. In fact, he swears by them. He has 4 chests that have custom lockwork on them, made by your kin. I assume the business is run by your father, perhaps?"