Maur follows and looks at the artificial limbs with some wonder. He considered earlier removing his armor, but right now he feels too exposed without it.
He enters the dwelling slowly and considers the axe hanging on the wall. Cautionary thought flashes through his mind, but both Mazz and Ivoron didn't do anything to make him suspicious of their motives. And even if this is some elaborate trap by Eike or one of the gods, he is confident in his ability to resist magic and to get out of any traps this could trigger.
He takes the axe and does few slow swings to get the feel for the balance without knocking anything over. And the bone ring too, turning it over.
Maur finds that the axe is very well balanced even though its double-bladed axe head is dull. The weapon might not be magical but it is masterwork. All it would need is a good cleaning and sharpening and it would be a solid weapon in any fight. He can see that its design is a mixture of dwarven and gnomish and that it is marked with runic writing that reads, "For my brother."
The weapon is definitely from the Iron Depths of Hammerfast. He's heard of that delve's tragic history. The dwarves called it Ord Kegeth while the gnomes called it Adrumbron. It was destroyed 111 years ago by the assault of a morlock-led army made up of the worst of denizens of the Undereath — cave trolls, deep minotaurs, earth ogres, grimlocks, underkrugs, and, it is rumored, an undead aboleth sorcerer. Hammerfast's destruction was absolute. Maur tries in vain to recall the name of the Lord of the Iron Depths.
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OOC:
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Deep minotaurs, earth ogres, and underkrugs are unique Underearth subspecies for the World of Kulan. The hair of a deep minotaur is pitch black and they are slightly shorter than standard minotaurs and a lot smarter. Earth ogres are a stronger offshoot of ogres that are blessed with Infernal energies by the evil Elemental Prince known as Hergund. Underkrugs are goblinoids that are a degenerate offshoot of Harqual's standard goblins, which are known as krugs.
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Phar considers what he has been told. A member of the magicians guild and a not political military leader would seem to be just the thing, he thinks to himself. He contents himself with relaxing and recovering from the recent battles. He takes out a recovered spell book and spends some time reading and studying while the others make plans.
He finds Xander's spellbook to be an interesting read. It has a good selection of spells and a few stories of magical lore interspersed between the various sections of the book. The front of the book is more hopeful and, it seems, Xander wasn't always a thrall to dark forces. It is near the middle of the book when he joins the regiment at Gurnard's Head on the Sea Isle.
He writes about how the defenders fell from grace and turned to cannibalism and the worship of Malotoch. He never
truly converted to worship the Demon Crow Goddess but that benefits of staying outweighed the risk to his soul. There was much gold to be had and the book says he stashed more treasure elsewhere on the island away from the prying eyes of the cultists.
It is at the end of the book that the duergar's writing becomes darker and bitter. He had come to Lighted Lands in his youth to try to escape his dark heritage, but he could not break the cycle of his bloodline. He gladly accepted the Infernal Forge
gifted to him and Tarrak by Vok. His spellbook describes how the forge works and that with the magical forge tongs that the deadly device can both summon and gate hell hounds from Baator. The Infernal Forge can even summon a Hellcat if a mortal sacrifice is provided to fuel the summoning.
It is a dark book full of disturbing imagery and Xander's tragic history. If it wasn't for the plethora of useful spells in it, Xander's spellbook would be something best locked away and forgotten about. Some would probably want to destroy it.
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OOC:
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Xander's spellbook gives a +2 circumstance bonus to Knowledge (The Planes) when it comes to the Nine Hells and a +2 circumstance bonus to Profession (Weaponsmithing).
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Neurotic said:
"Indeed, Elder, I'm not unfamiliar with some of the wild parties made by those who live with danger. One needs a release." He thinks about the history of the Underground thinking about fallen Hammerfast and Deepwater.
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OOC:
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@Knightfall please roll for Maur whatever is needed - what he knows etc...
When I return I'll post the ritual
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Maur knows he's heard the name Deepwater but he is certain that that city is a daylight city ruled over by humans. He ponders how Mazz came to know an artificer from that city. Then, the dwarf champion glances around the cluttered home and realizes that the Elder has likely been to places of which Maur's never heard. He wonders,
'Maybe he knows something of the relic?'
He places the axe and the bone ring back on the walls. He takes a second glance at the axe. While it isn't worth a king's ransom, dwarven scholars would like consider it priceless. A nonmagical relic in its own right. Very little survived of Hammerfast.
"You like it?" Mazz notes the look on Maur's face. "I have no use for it, so if you wish, you can take it with you. You can trade me a story for it. A good one. Or you can bring me a book I do not have or haven't read. That would be a challenge." The old svirfneblin senses that Maur doesn't want to insult Mazz or take advantage of him. "Do not trouble yourself. I offered it to Ivoron years ago when he first came to work for me, but he didn't want it."
"That is true," the half-elf says. "I'm not much for axes."
"Go ahead, take it. But, if you feel you must leave it be, I won't be insulted." Mazz says with a smile before he lowers himself using another lever embedded in the wall of the home. He moves to the lowest shelves and begins searching through an old box filled with letters. "I really should have these archived in Blackwater's library. Hmm, I'm sure it was in here. No, not here." He looks at Ivoron. "Lad, go to the closet in my bedchamber. It might be in there."
Ivoron nods and moves past Maur into a small side room that is as filled with books and trinkets as the rest of the home.
Caerth waits patiently for Mazz to retrieve the book and letter, contemplating his situation.
Perhaps, he laments, now that he is a more powerful druid he can try to find out more about his father? It has been many years since the half-orc has even thought about the nameless orc slave that fathered him, and no leads ever amounted to something, but maybe now...
Caerth tries not to put too much hope into the thought. There is not a lot to go on, and the life of an orc slave is usually short. And what, exactly, does he hope to gain by contacting his father?
Honesty, an inner voice responds. Honesty in a world filled with liars.
Caerth tries to think about people Aeron has mentioned in the past. Other druids who live in the Strandlands. There are the circles knows about but the half-orc druid seems to remember that Aeron mentioned to him that there is a tough old druid who now is retired in the city of Helt. Caerth tries to remember the man's name, but it escapes him. He knows Aeron considered the man to be a mentor, which means the old druid is likely near the end of his life, if he's not a hierophant. Aeron never mentioned that the man was supreme just grizzled like an old stone with many chips and cracks.
'He is a tough old bird,' Aeron had told him.
'Loves them too. He takes care of an aviary that stands just outside that city on the dry grassland cliffs that overlook the sea. A good man.'
That is the one person that Caerth can remember Aeron talking about with affection. The old hedge man rarely talked glowingly about other druids living in the Strandlands. Of course, if it is true that Aeron is not a true druid, then it would explain why he wasn't completely accepted into the local circle. That is druidism. There are secrets that must be kept and not just anyone is called to the circle. Could Aeron be a cleric instead? While he always seemed devoted to nature before anything else, could Aeron be a worshiper of one of the North Gods?
Caerth remembers something else that Aeron told him when he was just a boy.
'There are many ways to worship nature, young one. While druids stand firm against those that would despoil forests and plains and mountains, there are also rangers who fight for farmers & ranchers who live off the land. They, and others, work to teach people to respect the Balance. There must be a place for civilization in this world too, as long as it doesn't subjugate the land... or people.'
The half-orc druid can see Aeron in his mind's eye just as if the man was standing next to him. Caerth had gotten angry at his mentor when the man talked about the need for balance between nature and civilization. He hadn't noticed the faraway look on Aeron's face at the time. But now, he remembers. The man had been troubled, even despondent, about something he wasn't telling Caerth. The half-orc druid knew his adopted father had a past but he hadn't really thought about it too much. Aeron never talked about it.
"Found it!"
The elder gnome's voice rings out from his house and shocks everyone out of their musings. Caerth looks to see Aries standing near the doorway as the heat begins to bake the ground outside. The day will be a hot one. Metal armor will feel like a burden. Aureus looks towards the doorway while Quinn sits at the inn's long bar drinking some water from a bottle. The man has taken off his breastplate and laid it on one of the tables.
In Mazz's home, Maur begins to feel the heat inside his armor. It's not the first hot day he's had to deal with since coming to the Lighted Lands of the surface. It s nothing compared to a magma vent, but if it gets much hotter, his armor will start to feel like an oven.
The old gnome claps his hands and waves the letter to Maur. "I knew it was here somewhere."
He an Ivoron work to disconnect him from the mechanical system and he is soon back in his chair. They take off the artificial leg but opts to keep the hand on. Ivoron wheels him out of the house and the two of them don't wait for Maur to decide if he's going to take Mazz's gift. The duo reenter the inn and Mazz rolls himself towards Caerth.
"Here they are," the old gnome hands the book and a letter to the half-orc druid. "Those are for Summerwind. This," he holds up another letter. "Is for you to read. your father wrote it to me years ago about how he found you and also asking me to look into your bloodline. It took many years, but I did discover your orc father's name. He called himself Eógan. He was swordborn not an agrestic or goblin orc. He was born a slave in the Rozar Kingdom in the western half of the Thunder Mountains." Mazz notes the surprised look on Caerth's face. "I forgot to send the letter to Aeron. I forgot about it, and I forgot about you. My mind isn't what it used to be. I am sorry."
Mazz seems gloomy for a moment and then sighs. A moment later he yawns and his neck creaks under the strain. He looks tired but he is soon smiling again. "I hope you will gain some insights about Aeron from his letter and my reply. I wish I could have found out more about Eógan but there is only so much I can learn from here. I couldn't find out anything about you mother, but I think Aeron might know her name or her origins."
He shrugs and a bone pops in his shoulder. It seems to ease his discomfort. "I don't know for sure. He was reluctant to talk more about it. It probably has something to do with his own heritage in the Wind Cities north of Thallin. He is Vindi. Did you know that. He has all the traits of those rugged people, although I sensed he didn't grow up wild on the Wind Plains but in one of the land's cities."
Caerth reads the letter. he immediately can tell the bulk of the three-page letter is in Aeron's handwriting, although there are notations on it in another language that he doesn't know. Mazz's reply is tacked on at the end and runs over onto the back page. He writes of Caerth's blood father and his growing up a warrior slave in Rozar. He was a gladiator like Quinn and he lived and died in the arena. He became famous in Rozar and even fought it the great pits of the Chara Cities, Quinn's homeland.
"Hmm, looking at you..." Mazz looks at Caerth through his monocle. "Your human bloodline. Anorian, I think not... not Vindi either like your adopted father. A western bloodline, yes, more likely. Not Charan... nor Taal, no, not definitely not from Deepwater. But, hmm, maybe Ervenik... or even Shaulite. Yes, one of those two or a blending of the two."
He sighs. "I'm sure you mother's people are out there somewhere. If she was of noble birth, and Aeron told me he believed she was, then it is more than likely she came from one of those two city-states, Eversink or Shaule. That is a long way to come to drop off a baby but maybe she knew Aeron and didn't trust anyone else." Mazz grins at Caerth. "Aeron was very well traveled in his youth."
"Lorien told us Aeron visited Silverleaf more than once, as well as another elven city called Harrowleaf," Aureus adds.
"The two of them were good friends back then, but Lorien wouldn't tell us more." He nods to Phar.
"He said it wasn't his secret to tell."
"Hmm, perhaps I've said too much," Mazz wonders out loud. He shakes his head. "No, your father wanted you to know about your orc father and even your third family... eventually. His Vindi clan, I think. But, Aeron never told me the name he went by in his homeland. 'Aeron' is not a Vindi name. It was hard for him to think about them."
"This is all fascinating, but I did promise Ivoron that I would purify your food stores and fill your well with more water," Aries says. "I would like to keep my promise."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Ivoron can show you to the food cellar. And I never turn down free water," Mazz replies.
Ivoron leads the Soldier of Iron from the inn. The man is not wearing his armor. Outside, the sun bakes the ground parch as the temperature rises.
OOC: The temperature outside the inn will reach 38°C/102°F by midday.
