Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #451] Meeting Noxin
"It depends on who you are!" Huzair yelled upwards as he dried his head with a cloth. "If you are one of those nasty little dwarves I am going to kick your ass into next Freeday!"
"No, my friend. I've broken them all into little pieces" the voice resonated down the hole, gruff and deep. "Little bastards drugged me and were going to sacrifice me to some snakes. I guess they were not friends of yours either…"
Huzair looked quickly at Morier and Anania, an expression of skeptical optimism on his face. Shamalin was casting Detect Magic and missed the exchange.
"Do you know how to get the stairs back up?" Huzair shouted.
"Huh?" the big voice grunted back. "What stairs?"
"There were stairs in this shaft," the mage explained. "But there was a trap and they disappeared."
"Huh!" the voice said again. "That's somethin' ya don't see every day."
"Didn't you use the stairs to get up there?" Huzair asked.
"Well, to be quite honest, I haven't a recollection how I got down here," the voice replied. "I was drugged."
"Great..." Huzair hissed looking again at the others. Shamalin met his eyes this time.
"I sense no magic," she told him.
"There's a lever here on the wall," the voice called down.
"Yes, there is a lever, but the stairs will collapse when-" Huzair's explanation was cut off by the CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK! sound of the stairs extending from the central column. He looked at the others and sighed.
"Crap. Anyone who kills all those dwarves cannot be all bad," he said. "I am going up to hold the lever so the trap does not reset. Wait for my whistle." He boosted himself up onto the wall, taking no chances as he began Spiderclimbing. Before he disappeared from sight he called back, "Perhaps Ahlear should hang back out of sight to not spook this guy."
When Huzair climbed out into the chamber above, lit now by the glow of Everburning Flame, he thought that perhaps he needn't have worried about spooking their new acquaintance. This guy was huge! Huzair had known Feln for a time, and the half-ogre had been larger. But then Feln was a giant. The newcomer looked mostly human, but has certainly the largest human that the wizard had even seen. He towered two feet taller than Huzair and outweighed him by perhaps a factor of three.
His muscular torso was packed into a worn but well-maintained chain shirt. A massive sword was strapped across his back; it was half-again as big as the one that Morier wielded, but on this guy it only looked slightly oversized. In his left hand he held a hammer with a handle as long as Huzair was tall and a head the size of a small anvil. It was this weapon that shed magical light about the room.
The giant man stepped forward extending his right hand in greeting as he came. Huzair saw that he wore one pair of leather and brass goggles high on his substantial brow and a second pair hung around his neck.
"Noxin," the big man grinned as he engulfed Huzair's hand in a crushing grip. "Thought I wouldn't see a friendly face again."
"I am Huzair," the wizard answered, extricating himself from the punishing handshake.
"Well, I'll tell ya, Huzair," Noxin grinned, shaking his head and running his thick fingers through his curly black hair. "Wakin' up naked in the dark with the damn room full of snakes... Thought it was all over." Huzair looked up from massaging his hand and smirked at Noxin.
"Why is it that when we find some new guy, they are always naked?" he mused. "I remember finding Morier frolicking buck naked through the forest save for these tiny leaves with which he covered himself." Noxin smiled.
"Who's Morier?" he asked. In response, Huzair snapped his fingers and whistled down the staricase. Then he moved over to the lever and leaned against it so that it stayed firmly in the upright position.
"Listen, Noxin. You get a free pass about the spitting on me because you killed the dwarves and because you are freaking big... but please do not ever spit on me again, my friend," Huzair said, grinning. Then he hit Noxin in the arm in what he hoped was a tough, barbarianish fashion. It felt a bit like punching a slab of granite. He decided to settle for offering Noxin a cigar.
The big man grinned as he took the smoke carefully between forefinger and thumb. His coppery eyes twinkled in the flickering light.
"I prefer a strong pipe, my friend," he admitted, "but I think a cigar would calm my nerves after my escapade... many thanks." He popped the cigar in his mouth, clamping it tight in his huge teeth and began fishing in his pack for a tinderbox.
Grinning, Huzair lit the smoke with his thumb. Noxin laughed at the display of minor magic and began puffing away to get the cigar going, so by the time the others arrived, the small chamber was hazy with smoke.
As they came up - first Anania, followed by Morier - Noxin greeted them as he had Huzair, sharing his name and offering each a bone-crushing handshake. When Shamalin appeared, clanking and puffing up the stairs, Noxin squinted at her appraisingly.
"What have we here?" he asked as he extended his hand. "A black knight... but such a kind face. Have to watch out for you!!" He snorted laughter and pumped her hand. The laughter died as Ahlear's mummy stepped into the doorway.
Noxin had his hammer in a two-handed grip at once and he held it between himself and the undead. Ahlear stood his ground, but raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"He's with us," Huzair said and Noxin turned a wondering eye to the wizard.
"You travel with the undead?" he marveled. "I can see why you keep to caves."
"It was either the caves or the giants," Ahlear rasped. "The caves seemed the lesser threat at the time." Noxin turned his eye back to the mummy, seeming confused to hear it speak. After a moment, he lowered his hammer and pulled smoke thoughtfully from his cigar.
"I wouldn't worry too much about the giants... if they waited around long enough for me to free myself I'll be surprised," the big man told them. Then he shrugged. "If they did wait... they might have work for you. We are headed to battle."
"WE?" Huzair asked. "You're with the giants?" Noxin sighed, considering and then ultimately shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Allright... let me play it straight here... I ain't no good at spinnin' stories anyway, so I'll just tell you... and if you rob me blind... so be it," the huge man began. "I am a treasure hunter - a good one too, and I been scouring this region for an ancient treasure. Well... you gotta do a lot of things as a treasure hunter, and one of 'em's eatin', so I got hooked up with this giant, Hargnar Slamfist. Well, of course, shortly after I started working with him, Cerrakean, a little hob-goblin...well, she's a warrior - if you can call a little thing like that a warrior - called in some old debt I know nothin' about."
"Cerrakean," Shamalin said, turning the word over in her mouth. "I've read that name before. In Ledare's notes I think." Noxin looked at her and shrugged again.
"Anyway... from what I remember, this giant has aligned himself with a guy name Demius Wiverly Eyes or something," the big man went on, not noticing Morier jumping a bit at the familiar name. "Anyway, this Demerius Wevern Aye is gathing an army... come to think of it, I am not sure what for... I think it's to storm a keep... but I may have dreamed that."
"Sounds like a good way to spend an afternoon," Huzair chuckled. "Any wizards or spell users among the lot?"
"Not that so's you could tell," Noxin told him. "Let me tell you, though... I think there may be treasure in these caves... Of course, I can't be sure. The poem I am thinking of seems to allude to a place like this...and I was off from the group a bit when the dwarves grabbed me... so who knows what Hargnar is doing. He may have left. He may be searching for me...not sure. It's not like we are kin, but he seemed decent enough."
"We're not here to find treasure," Shamalin said and Noxin looked at her as if she'd just asked him to punch her in the head.
"Huh?" he grunted. "If ya ain't lookin' for treasure than what are ya doin' way out here?" Shamalin ignored the question and turned to the others.
"Unless Noxin, here, has an escape route he knows about, we should just go back out the way we came in," she said and eyes turned expectantly to the big man. Again, he shrugged.
"I don't know how exactly I came down into these caves, but I am pretty sure those pale little things didn't drop me down no cliff," he laughed, ashing on the floor. "There has to be a way back up and through the top. And I would not worry about the giants on top; they fight for money... mostly. Do you have any money??"
Shamalin raised an eyebrow at this. "Money?" she asked.
"Yeah. Money," Noxin repeated. "You know... coins! Gold pieces. Silver pieces... Money!" Shamalin looked disapproving and turned to Morier, a question on her lips.
"We have money," Morier said to Noxin before the cleric could speak.
"Good!" the big man grinned.
"What does your pull have to say now, Whitey?" Huzair asked and Morier looked around at them all.
"Now we spread out and try to find a way up and out of this warren," he said and his words were met by nods. But as the others spread out, Shamalin clutched his arm and drew him close so she could softly voice her concerns.
"Is our cause now a mercenary one?" she asked him. "Do we now enlist the aid of those who might not have a passion for our purpose?" The albino sighed and shaking his head, drew a pale hand through pale locks.
"No, Shamalin, I don't think our own cause is a mercenary one... but I think you and I may be the only two left here who even have a cause...or understand and remember what our cause is, let alone pursue it with any passion," he told her. "I don't know, possibly Huzair understands, he seems... somehow different lately... His exterior makes it all too easy to underestimate him. But even if we count three of us, our odds are still pretty poor. So we enlist 'hired swords'... then I suppose you can use the word mercenary... but they serve as the means to our end. They all know what we're doing, and they all pay lip service to the end we seek before we allow them to join us." He started to turn away and then looked back at her, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
"It troubles me some to hear myself say the words out loud that show how cheaply I consider the lives that appear to take up our cause, but I rest more easily about it knowing that we have persuaded no one to join us," he said grimly, a cold, hard edge in his voice. "They have sought to travel with us and we have told each of them about the dangers involved."
"It depends on who you are!" Huzair yelled upwards as he dried his head with a cloth. "If you are one of those nasty little dwarves I am going to kick your ass into next Freeday!"
"No, my friend. I've broken them all into little pieces" the voice resonated down the hole, gruff and deep. "Little bastards drugged me and were going to sacrifice me to some snakes. I guess they were not friends of yours either…"
Huzair looked quickly at Morier and Anania, an expression of skeptical optimism on his face. Shamalin was casting Detect Magic and missed the exchange.
"Do you know how to get the stairs back up?" Huzair shouted.
"Huh?" the big voice grunted back. "What stairs?"
"There were stairs in this shaft," the mage explained. "But there was a trap and they disappeared."
"Huh!" the voice said again. "That's somethin' ya don't see every day."
"Didn't you use the stairs to get up there?" Huzair asked.
"Well, to be quite honest, I haven't a recollection how I got down here," the voice replied. "I was drugged."
"Great..." Huzair hissed looking again at the others. Shamalin met his eyes this time.
"I sense no magic," she told him.
"There's a lever here on the wall," the voice called down.
"Yes, there is a lever, but the stairs will collapse when-" Huzair's explanation was cut off by the CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK! sound of the stairs extending from the central column. He looked at the others and sighed.
"Crap. Anyone who kills all those dwarves cannot be all bad," he said. "I am going up to hold the lever so the trap does not reset. Wait for my whistle." He boosted himself up onto the wall, taking no chances as he began Spiderclimbing. Before he disappeared from sight he called back, "Perhaps Ahlear should hang back out of sight to not spook this guy."
When Huzair climbed out into the chamber above, lit now by the glow of Everburning Flame, he thought that perhaps he needn't have worried about spooking their new acquaintance. This guy was huge! Huzair had known Feln for a time, and the half-ogre had been larger. But then Feln was a giant. The newcomer looked mostly human, but has certainly the largest human that the wizard had even seen. He towered two feet taller than Huzair and outweighed him by perhaps a factor of three.
His muscular torso was packed into a worn but well-maintained chain shirt. A massive sword was strapped across his back; it was half-again as big as the one that Morier wielded, but on this guy it only looked slightly oversized. In his left hand he held a hammer with a handle as long as Huzair was tall and a head the size of a small anvil. It was this weapon that shed magical light about the room.
The giant man stepped forward extending his right hand in greeting as he came. Huzair saw that he wore one pair of leather and brass goggles high on his substantial brow and a second pair hung around his neck.
"Noxin," the big man grinned as he engulfed Huzair's hand in a crushing grip. "Thought I wouldn't see a friendly face again."
"I am Huzair," the wizard answered, extricating himself from the punishing handshake.
"Well, I'll tell ya, Huzair," Noxin grinned, shaking his head and running his thick fingers through his curly black hair. "Wakin' up naked in the dark with the damn room full of snakes... Thought it was all over." Huzair looked up from massaging his hand and smirked at Noxin.
"Why is it that when we find some new guy, they are always naked?" he mused. "I remember finding Morier frolicking buck naked through the forest save for these tiny leaves with which he covered himself." Noxin smiled.
"Who's Morier?" he asked. In response, Huzair snapped his fingers and whistled down the staricase. Then he moved over to the lever and leaned against it so that it stayed firmly in the upright position.
"Listen, Noxin. You get a free pass about the spitting on me because you killed the dwarves and because you are freaking big... but please do not ever spit on me again, my friend," Huzair said, grinning. Then he hit Noxin in the arm in what he hoped was a tough, barbarianish fashion. It felt a bit like punching a slab of granite. He decided to settle for offering Noxin a cigar.
The big man grinned as he took the smoke carefully between forefinger and thumb. His coppery eyes twinkled in the flickering light.
"I prefer a strong pipe, my friend," he admitted, "but I think a cigar would calm my nerves after my escapade... many thanks." He popped the cigar in his mouth, clamping it tight in his huge teeth and began fishing in his pack for a tinderbox.
Grinning, Huzair lit the smoke with his thumb. Noxin laughed at the display of minor magic and began puffing away to get the cigar going, so by the time the others arrived, the small chamber was hazy with smoke.
As they came up - first Anania, followed by Morier - Noxin greeted them as he had Huzair, sharing his name and offering each a bone-crushing handshake. When Shamalin appeared, clanking and puffing up the stairs, Noxin squinted at her appraisingly.
"What have we here?" he asked as he extended his hand. "A black knight... but such a kind face. Have to watch out for you!!" He snorted laughter and pumped her hand. The laughter died as Ahlear's mummy stepped into the doorway.
Noxin had his hammer in a two-handed grip at once and he held it between himself and the undead. Ahlear stood his ground, but raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"He's with us," Huzair said and Noxin turned a wondering eye to the wizard.
"You travel with the undead?" he marveled. "I can see why you keep to caves."
"It was either the caves or the giants," Ahlear rasped. "The caves seemed the lesser threat at the time." Noxin turned his eye back to the mummy, seeming confused to hear it speak. After a moment, he lowered his hammer and pulled smoke thoughtfully from his cigar.
"I wouldn't worry too much about the giants... if they waited around long enough for me to free myself I'll be surprised," the big man told them. Then he shrugged. "If they did wait... they might have work for you. We are headed to battle."
"WE?" Huzair asked. "You're with the giants?" Noxin sighed, considering and then ultimately shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Allright... let me play it straight here... I ain't no good at spinnin' stories anyway, so I'll just tell you... and if you rob me blind... so be it," the huge man began. "I am a treasure hunter - a good one too, and I been scouring this region for an ancient treasure. Well... you gotta do a lot of things as a treasure hunter, and one of 'em's eatin', so I got hooked up with this giant, Hargnar Slamfist. Well, of course, shortly after I started working with him, Cerrakean, a little hob-goblin...well, she's a warrior - if you can call a little thing like that a warrior - called in some old debt I know nothin' about."
"Cerrakean," Shamalin said, turning the word over in her mouth. "I've read that name before. In Ledare's notes I think." Noxin looked at her and shrugged again.
"Anyway... from what I remember, this giant has aligned himself with a guy name Demius Wiverly Eyes or something," the big man went on, not noticing Morier jumping a bit at the familiar name. "Anyway, this Demerius Wevern Aye is gathing an army... come to think of it, I am not sure what for... I think it's to storm a keep... but I may have dreamed that."
"Sounds like a good way to spend an afternoon," Huzair chuckled. "Any wizards or spell users among the lot?"
"Not that so's you could tell," Noxin told him. "Let me tell you, though... I think there may be treasure in these caves... Of course, I can't be sure. The poem I am thinking of seems to allude to a place like this...and I was off from the group a bit when the dwarves grabbed me... so who knows what Hargnar is doing. He may have left. He may be searching for me...not sure. It's not like we are kin, but he seemed decent enough."
"We're not here to find treasure," Shamalin said and Noxin looked at her as if she'd just asked him to punch her in the head.
"Huh?" he grunted. "If ya ain't lookin' for treasure than what are ya doin' way out here?" Shamalin ignored the question and turned to the others.
"Unless Noxin, here, has an escape route he knows about, we should just go back out the way we came in," she said and eyes turned expectantly to the big man. Again, he shrugged.
"I don't know how exactly I came down into these caves, but I am pretty sure those pale little things didn't drop me down no cliff," he laughed, ashing on the floor. "There has to be a way back up and through the top. And I would not worry about the giants on top; they fight for money... mostly. Do you have any money??"
Shamalin raised an eyebrow at this. "Money?" she asked.
"Yeah. Money," Noxin repeated. "You know... coins! Gold pieces. Silver pieces... Money!" Shamalin looked disapproving and turned to Morier, a question on her lips.
"We have money," Morier said to Noxin before the cleric could speak.
"Good!" the big man grinned.
"What does your pull have to say now, Whitey?" Huzair asked and Morier looked around at them all.
"Now we spread out and try to find a way up and out of this warren," he said and his words were met by nods. But as the others spread out, Shamalin clutched his arm and drew him close so she could softly voice her concerns.
"Is our cause now a mercenary one?" she asked him. "Do we now enlist the aid of those who might not have a passion for our purpose?" The albino sighed and shaking his head, drew a pale hand through pale locks.
"No, Shamalin, I don't think our own cause is a mercenary one... but I think you and I may be the only two left here who even have a cause...or understand and remember what our cause is, let alone pursue it with any passion," he told her. "I don't know, possibly Huzair understands, he seems... somehow different lately... His exterior makes it all too easy to underestimate him. But even if we count three of us, our odds are still pretty poor. So we enlist 'hired swords'... then I suppose you can use the word mercenary... but they serve as the means to our end. They all know what we're doing, and they all pay lip service to the end we seek before we allow them to join us." He started to turn away and then looked back at her, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
"It troubles me some to hear myself say the words out loud that show how cheaply I consider the lives that appear to take up our cause, but I rest more easily about it knowing that we have persuaded no one to join us," he said grimly, a cold, hard edge in his voice. "They have sought to travel with us and we have told each of them about the dangers involved."
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