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IC: Dichotomy's Age of Worms Redux, Part III
"Whoa....whoa......" Bazrim trys to slow down the stampeeding questions from Nethezar. "I'm not quite that skilled, but I can do more than just make some flickering lights and sparks. Let's just say I'm somewhere between those two. As for my master, it is something I prefer not to talk about at this time, but I have studied from many across the land."
Bazrim pulls aside the nearest barmaid and whispers something to her and hands her some coin. "Well, for your question about what god I serve, I have spent much time studying the religions. I find that each god has their vitures, and thus cannot bring myself to follow one, but respect all of them."
Bazrim turns his head back toward the bar. "As for the ale, it should be.......Oh here it comes." The bar maid drops full pictures infront of the half-orcs, and fresh tankards infront of the rest. "I think this should keep your sword out of my gullet for a while."
Bazrim pulls aside the nearest barmaid and whispers something to her and hands her some coin. "Well, for your question about what god I serve, I have spent much time studying the religions. I find that each god has their vitures, and thus cannot bring myself to follow one, but respect all of them."
Bazrim turns his head back toward the bar. "As for the ale, it should be.......Oh here it comes." The bar maid drops full pictures infront of the half-orcs, and fresh tankards infront of the rest. "I think this should keep your sword out of my gullet for a while."
michael_noah
First Post
"Interesting," says Kushnak at Bazrim.
"What do you make of this one, Erdolliel? It seems to me we don't need a guide, but we are short a packmule. If you want to keep talking about adventurers, though, I'll listen, dwarf. If there have been many here, they certainly aren't doing anything good for the place."
"And if they're disappearing, then there must be something about that needs dealing with."
"What do you make of this one, Erdolliel? It seems to me we don't need a guide, but we are short a packmule. If you want to keep talking about adventurers, though, I'll listen, dwarf. If there have been many here, they certainly aren't doing anything good for the place."
"And if they're disappearing, then there must be something about that needs dealing with."
"A pack mule? Well, I don't think I would be much good as one of those. As you can see, I barely have the physical strength to carry my belongings." Bazrim grabs his ale with two hands, taking a drink from it.
"Now, for that adventuring. Well, two groups have been checking out different cairns around here lately. Can't really remember what ones. First group found nothing, and let everone know it and then I think they left. The second group came here often, but never really talked about what the've been doing. It was mainly a dwarf and a lady of some god, can't remember off hand. Well, they always had a few people with them. Changed often. They were always secretive, and crowded closely around a table. Well, they haven't been seen for a while here now, but heard they may have been involved with a murder of some mine owner's henchmen. So, that leaves you with options, if you want to look into that whole situation." Bazrim then leans back in his chair, waiting for a responce, drinking his ale with one hand once again.
"Now, for that adventuring. Well, two groups have been checking out different cairns around here lately. Can't really remember what ones. First group found nothing, and let everone know it and then I think they left. The second group came here often, but never really talked about what the've been doing. It was mainly a dwarf and a lady of some god, can't remember off hand. Well, they always had a few people with them. Changed often. They were always secretive, and crowded closely around a table. Well, they haven't been seen for a while here now, but heard they may have been involved with a murder of some mine owner's henchmen. So, that leaves you with options, if you want to look into that whole situation." Bazrim then leans back in his chair, waiting for a responce, drinking his ale with one hand once again.
michael_noah
First Post
"Adventurers getting involved in the mining business? Something interesting is going on here, that's for sure. It looks like our stay in this dung-heap may not be totally useless."
Kushnak dives into his dinner.
Kushnak dives into his dinner.
"Which mine owner might it be? If it gets good money in our pockets, we could try to track them down and take care of them for him. There is bound to be other work for an owner down some muscle.
As for this one, he might prove to be a useful source of local knowledge. If he can't keep up we'll just leave him somewhere...else."
Erdolliel slides her food in front of Eskard and grabs another ale.
As for this one, he might prove to be a useful source of local knowledge. If he can't keep up we'll just leave him somewhere...else."
Erdolliel slides her food in front of Eskard and grabs another ale.
Day 17
[sblock=OOC]I'm gonna take the liberty of moving this forward. If you guys want to keep talking, please do so.[/sblock]Unfortunately, Bazrim cannot confirm anything more than he's already stated about mine owner, and even what he has heard is only rumor.
Between the food and drink, the group is able to make a good night, even in the somewhat nasty surroundings of the Feral Dog. While it seems like there is the potential for fights at random, nothing untoward breaks out. After getting some drinks in, Bazrim is able to direct the newcomers to any of the establishments for a place to sleep, depending upon the quality of place you each desire.
You meet up in the morning, refreshed. Upon seeing Diamond Lake in the morning light, the newcomers realize it is, in fact, even worse a place than they likely thought at first. You also learn that others have taken note of your presence.
The group, once it has gathered someplace suitable, is approached by a very nondescript man around 30 years old. "Morning to you folk," he says with a nod for the group. "I'm called Gregor and I work for one of the mine managers in town, Balabar Smenk. He has a proposition for you, if you'll come to his home and hear him out. No commitment asked. Just a moment to hear what he has to say." He waits for you to discuss anything you have among yourself, and then leads you on.[sblock=OOC]Again, I'm taking some liberty here.[/sblock]You find yourselves approaching a sodden old mansion that looks several decades past its prime. It is a testament that even the most affluent in Diamond Lake are not truly well off. Three thugs linger near the mansion wielding lead pipes and stern glances, but they back off after a nod from Gregor. Despite this, the doors are wide open. "Oh yeah," Gregor snickers, "Smenk made a promise that he'd always be available to his miners. Ha!" Inside, three great bestial apes prowl the outer corridors, chained to a rail running through the whole floor. They come close and sniff loudly, but stay back.
You are brought up what once was a grand staircase to an office on the second floor. Inside, flanked by two more thugs, a fat, pompous-looking man sits bellied up to a desk as he picks from a plate full of meat and cheese. There are no chairs present, save the one in which the man sits, his lovehandles rolling over the arms on the side. So you are forced to stand, like poor petitioners, while he finishes first the food in his mouth and then a second mouthful that he quickly shoves in. After swallowing, the man takes a swig from a pint near him and finally looks up at the group.
"Balabar Smenk," Gregor intones as an introduction.
"I have a grave problem," Smenk begins, "and I've been told that you may be the only people in this place that can help me. I'm being extorted. Ragnolin Dourstone, that dwarf mine manager, has made the bowels of his mine a haven for some fanatic cultists, the Ebon Triad. Problem is that Dourstone needed to be able to get them some supplies, food and the like. Naturally, he came to me, knowing that I'd never have the heart to turn from people in need. I didn't know then who these people were. But then I started hearing rumors about them. I sent my right hand man to ask Dourstone about the rumors. I'd not want to be helping the likes of such cultists. The next morning, I awoke to find my man's severed head in my bed." The gluttonous man quivers a moment and takes a long pull from his pint.
"I didn't know what to do, but I feared the worst. I called upon some close associates, people I knew I could trust, to get into the mine and confirm or deny my fears. This is all that remains of them." He pulls from his vest two holy symbols, one of Heironeous and one of Pelor, both covered in dried blood. "I don't know what your personal feelings are about those two gods, but if you know what they stand for, you know that it would take the utmost villiany to kill those that would wear these."
The fat man shakes his head. "I'm in a bind. If I stop sending them supplies, I'll end up dead. But if I keep sending them supplies, I'm complicit, helping those fanatics. Only the gods know what they must be doing, but it cannot be good. I managed to get someone inside to sneak back this," Smenk places a stone key, with the holy symbol of Erythnul on it, on the corner of the desk near you. "In Dourstone's mine, there's an elevator to a temple below. I think part of the cult was taken care of by my poor dead friends, but the Erythnul worshipers are still there. Can you root them out and save us from the fanatics?"
[sblock=OOC]I'm gonna take the liberty of moving this forward. If you guys want to keep talking, please do so.[/sblock]Unfortunately, Bazrim cannot confirm anything more than he's already stated about mine owner, and even what he has heard is only rumor.
Between the food and drink, the group is able to make a good night, even in the somewhat nasty surroundings of the Feral Dog. While it seems like there is the potential for fights at random, nothing untoward breaks out. After getting some drinks in, Bazrim is able to direct the newcomers to any of the establishments for a place to sleep, depending upon the quality of place you each desire.
You meet up in the morning, refreshed. Upon seeing Diamond Lake in the morning light, the newcomers realize it is, in fact, even worse a place than they likely thought at first. You also learn that others have taken note of your presence.
The group, once it has gathered someplace suitable, is approached by a very nondescript man around 30 years old. "Morning to you folk," he says with a nod for the group. "I'm called Gregor and I work for one of the mine managers in town, Balabar Smenk. He has a proposition for you, if you'll come to his home and hear him out. No commitment asked. Just a moment to hear what he has to say." He waits for you to discuss anything you have among yourself, and then leads you on.[sblock=OOC]Again, I'm taking some liberty here.[/sblock]You find yourselves approaching a sodden old mansion that looks several decades past its prime. It is a testament that even the most affluent in Diamond Lake are not truly well off. Three thugs linger near the mansion wielding lead pipes and stern glances, but they back off after a nod from Gregor. Despite this, the doors are wide open. "Oh yeah," Gregor snickers, "Smenk made a promise that he'd always be available to his miners. Ha!" Inside, three great bestial apes prowl the outer corridors, chained to a rail running through the whole floor. They come close and sniff loudly, but stay back.
You are brought up what once was a grand staircase to an office on the second floor. Inside, flanked by two more thugs, a fat, pompous-looking man sits bellied up to a desk as he picks from a plate full of meat and cheese. There are no chairs present, save the one in which the man sits, his lovehandles rolling over the arms on the side. So you are forced to stand, like poor petitioners, while he finishes first the food in his mouth and then a second mouthful that he quickly shoves in. After swallowing, the man takes a swig from a pint near him and finally looks up at the group.
"Balabar Smenk," Gregor intones as an introduction.
"I have a grave problem," Smenk begins, "and I've been told that you may be the only people in this place that can help me. I'm being extorted. Ragnolin Dourstone, that dwarf mine manager, has made the bowels of his mine a haven for some fanatic cultists, the Ebon Triad. Problem is that Dourstone needed to be able to get them some supplies, food and the like. Naturally, he came to me, knowing that I'd never have the heart to turn from people in need. I didn't know then who these people were. But then I started hearing rumors about them. I sent my right hand man to ask Dourstone about the rumors. I'd not want to be helping the likes of such cultists. The next morning, I awoke to find my man's severed head in my bed." The gluttonous man quivers a moment and takes a long pull from his pint.
"I didn't know what to do, but I feared the worst. I called upon some close associates, people I knew I could trust, to get into the mine and confirm or deny my fears. This is all that remains of them." He pulls from his vest two holy symbols, one of Heironeous and one of Pelor, both covered in dried blood. "I don't know what your personal feelings are about those two gods, but if you know what they stand for, you know that it would take the utmost villiany to kill those that would wear these."
The fat man shakes his head. "I'm in a bind. If I stop sending them supplies, I'll end up dead. But if I keep sending them supplies, I'm complicit, helping those fanatics. Only the gods know what they must be doing, but it cannot be good. I managed to get someone inside to sneak back this," Smenk places a stone key, with the holy symbol of Erythnul on it, on the corner of the desk near you. "In Dourstone's mine, there's an elevator to a temple below. I think part of the cult was taken care of by my poor dead friends, but the Erythnul worshipers are still there. Can you root them out and save us from the fanatics?"
Erdolliel snorts once during Smenk's speech. "You don't have to sugar coat it, well not for ME at least. I don't doubt that you are being extorted or that these are some evil people. For whatever reason, you've gotten yourself in a bind with this cult and now you need to get out. Do you know anything specific that we might encounter down there? More importantly, how much gold are we looking to make to clean out this rat nest?"
Smenk opens his mouth to answer, but is interrupted by Nethezar. "Ebon Triad... Evil cult dedicated to merging Hextor, Vecna, and Erythnul into some kind of Overgod. The cultists are considered heretics by the other priests of those three gods. The more... doctrinal... priests try to keep the existence of the Ebon Triad suppressed in hopes of stemming the flow of converts," the cleric of Boccob muses almost to himself.
"That means clerics of those three deities will likely be present," Nethezar continues, addressing Erdolliel's first question. "Vecna worship likely entails at least some number of wizards. And both Erythnul and Hextor attract more martial types."
Smenk coughs loudly. "I don't know of anything other than people down there, but only the gods know. As for payment, the cultists likely have a fair share of valuables. I have nothing to offer you up front. I've been operating at a loss due to the rates they force me to accept. But if you succeed, I'll be able to cut into my last reserves: 1,500 gold to split as you see fit. Otherwise, I'm going to need that simply to last."
[sblock=worthley]Bazrim personally had never heard of the Ebon Triad before and knows nothing about it.[/sblock]
"That means clerics of those three deities will likely be present," Nethezar continues, addressing Erdolliel's first question. "Vecna worship likely entails at least some number of wizards. And both Erythnul and Hextor attract more martial types."
Smenk coughs loudly. "I don't know of anything other than people down there, but only the gods know. As for payment, the cultists likely have a fair share of valuables. I have nothing to offer you up front. I've been operating at a loss due to the rates they force me to accept. But if you succeed, I'll be able to cut into my last reserves: 1,500 gold to split as you see fit. Otherwise, I'm going to need that simply to last."
[sblock=worthley]Bazrim personally had never heard of the Ebon Triad before and knows nothing about it.[/sblock]
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