Vasorn, the World Under Dragonfire

[Keia]

Zykovian Sarellion, Half-Sapphire Dragon

"Please m'lord! Don't kill us, I'm sorry! I was just afraid that Raffie wouldn't be able to defend himself if there's a raid. I know it's against the law m'lord, but I was so afraid for him!"

*Zykovian looked at the two, keeping his face impassive, but a whirl of thoughts was racing through his head. So they were not plotting against the dragons . . . but she was training him in illegal weapon use . . . I don’t want to kill them . . . but if I don’t and someone is watching, listening, or scrying me, then my life is forfeit . . . my assignment, hmmm . . . I must ‘leave them capable’ . . . All of these thoughts occurred within a second of the gnome woman’s explanation.*

Zykovian sighed deeply, “Silly woman . . . you know the rules, they are there for your protection as well as ours. If your or Raffie here, displayed any weapon use to attackers, they would definitely kill you, thinking you were perhaps a higher station than you truly are. If someone were to catch you training, your life would be forfeit." Zykovian paused for effect, then continued, "Weapons training is a dangerous thing, with a much greater chance of death than no training at all. Why would you put this little one at such risk?”

*Zykovian looked at both the woman and the child appraisingly. He walked a small circuit around them – more to get a look at his surrounding (he didn’t want any surprises) than to observe the two, though he will see if anything is interesting about them on closer inspection (symbols, marks, hidden items, etc.). He allowed a genuine look of compassion to come over his face before putting the impassive mask back up.*

“I could let you go with a warning . . . but I need some answers first. I warn you, I will kill Raffie here if you are lying – so don’t even think about,” Zykovian said, using Claws of the Vampire to enhance his already formidable hands, and showed them to the pair. “How much of this ‘weapon training’ is going on down here? Who is doing it other than you? Where did you get your armor?”

OOC: Bluff +27, Search +8, Intimidate +13

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

*The beholder looks at Grim for a moment (and the 11-eyed stare of a beholder is not something anyone wants to endure for long), then finally consents to speak.*

"I was looking for something to eat. These tunnels were supposed to be free of those scum... They've expanded their patrols. But they're dead now. I ate the two littlest ones, but there should be plenty left for you. Where are you off to?" it asks gruffly.

"We go to the Darkstone mines."

 

[DrZombie]

Mmmh, it speaks to us.. But is it lying? Never trust an eye-tyrant, even in this.... Never trust anyone... Never trust myself even...

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Zykovian, the gnome woman abases herself before you as she speaks.*

"M'lord, there's about a dozen children recently promoted to the mines that have some training in weapons, and twice that many adults, though I'm the oldest. Never would we raise our hand against a dragon; we feared others that raid the mines.

"I took the armor from the junkheap so I could practice without fear of getting cut. Please m'lord, we meant no harm to any of you!"

*The woman is visibly trembling, while Raffie nods so hard at all her words you fear for his head coming off. You notice nothing else hidden about here.*

~~~~~~

*The beholder seems to digest your information of where you're going, and writhes its eyestalks thoughtfully.*

"Darkstone mines eh? Hmph. Looks like they're deprived of their deep scouts now," it says, giving an odd hollow chuckle. "Go ahead, pass through. They'll be cutting through any day now."

*With that the beholder floats on past you, keeping at least one eye on each person as it does.*

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

*The beholder seems to digest your information of where you're going, and writhes its eyestalks thoughtfully.*

"Darkstone mines eh? Hmph. Looks like they're deprived of their deep scouts now," it says, giving an odd hollow chuckle. "Go ahead, pass through. They'll be cutting through any day now."

*With that the beholder floats on past you, keeping at least one eye on each person as it does.*

Grim watches it float past, then motions to Durlp to lead on.

 

[DrZombie]

Nearing the enemy mine, Ishamael gets prepared, His dull, dead eyes take a more lively glint, and a small grin appears on his face. His bow is at the ready, but not drawn. Carefully he stalks forward, alert, eyes moving from left to right.
Come, my friends, it's time to laugh and sing. Oh such a merry sight. Shht, musn't make any noise now, it would spoil the surprise.

 

[Velmont]

Gortag looks at the beholder. He's always been impress by those creature. They don't have any arm or legs that could make them great warriors like the one of his tribes, but the magic they weild is as strong, or even more than the one of his shaman, and respect this race for that.

Gortag stay alert, even if the eyed creature told he kill many person, there may still be one roaming.

 

[Keia]

"M'lord, there's about a dozen children recently promoted to the mines that have some training in weapons, and twice that many adults, though I'm the oldest. Never would we raise our hand against a dragon; we feared others that raid the mines.

"I took the armor from the junkheap so I could practice without fear of getting cut. Please m'lord, we meant no harm to any of you!"

Great, just great, what do I do now . . . and how did it manage to get this far without some guard noticing, Zykovian thought. Unless they were either incompetent or involved, I don’t see how three dozen people training with weapons could go unnoticed.

“You will point each of these adults out to me, or at least describe them very, very well. Perhaps not all of them are as interested in attackers of the mine as you are. In the mean time . . . I will have those weapons, and armor . . . now,” Zykovian said quietly to the gnome woman. Zykovian patted Raffie’s head in mid-bob and quietly said, “Stop that,” with a genuine smile.

“I will question them . . . how do you all manage to train with these weapons without one of the guard noticing?” Zykovian asked.

*Regardless of the answer, Zykovian will follow through with his plan to have to woman describe or point out all who had weapon training.*

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*As the group goes farther down the passage, you can begin the make out the too-still forms of the bodies the beholder spoke of. In a slightly larger cavern you see the seven bodies of the scouts, including the dragonkin. Two of the other bodies are dressed in sorcerer's robes, the other three in fine chainmail. The sorcerers have the look of dragon scions, those of other races that give their lives and loyalty to a dragon in exchange for power and prestige. They gain the look of a dragon, and from the purplish scales you would guess they are Gardanax's. Probably they were once dwarves, as far as you can tell.*

*The spellblades seem to be lizardfolk. All of the scaled races faired far better than the others when the dragons took over. Many tribes of lizardfolk happily rose to power with their draconic masters. They are all armed with a kind of metal gauntlet with long, cruel claws on the end, a dragonclaw gaunlet and a common weapon around these parts. You also find pouches of slingstones as well as several slings, one of which is curiously made of white leather with writing in careful script which no one here can understand.*

*The sorcerers carry pouches of material components, as well as what appears to be half-finished maps of the surrounding area, back to Darkstone. One has a pendent made of a dark red ruby carved into the shape of a snarling cat, while the other wears adamantine-studded braces.*

*The dragonkith leader bears two silver shortswords, one with a sapphire in the pommel and one with an emerald. He is wearing handsome scalemail enameled in purple, and a belt studded with three kinds of metal, silver, adamantine, and iron. Elaborate leather wraps wind about his ankles, embroidered in red and blue silk in various Draconic words for speed.*

*Most of them seem to be dead with no mark on them, though two have large teeth marks on their throat and chests. Another small pile of somewhat wet and blood gear, probably rejected from the one the beholder ate, lies on the far side of the cavern. It seems to be the shredded remains of leather armor, a bandolier with six daggers in it, and blob of some kind of tangled, fragile black cloth.*

*As you examine them, from under the body of one of the sorcerers scuttles a small lizard. When it sees you it gives a squeak of dismay and tries to run.*

~~~~

*Zykovian, the gnome woman describes the weapons' users, all of them among the oldest artisans or undersupervisors. Most of them lack perhaps five years of joining the ranks of the cleaners. The woman hands over the knife and her crude sheild amidst some tears, but does it quickly.*

"As for how we managed to train, m'lord... We did it in the times when there were the fewest guards around. We don't often have inspection in the slave pens. We never used anything more than an eating knife or a stone. Sometimes we'd practice when we were cleaning out the privies, as no dragon ever goes there because it offends their nose so. And we were very, very careful, because we just didn't want to be hurt by the raids, and wouldn't want to arouse the master's wrath," she says in a tremulous voice, bowing low.*

 

[Velmont]

Gortag pick one of his dart, and throw it on the lizard.

"Scaly, never know what harm they can bring to you..."