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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1245117" data-attributes="member: 2292">For most of the Copperheads, their first week in Thorbeck is a joy.  Halgo immerses himself in the cities arcane culture, reveling in the opportunity to exchange lore and knowledge with people who share his learning and racial outlook for the first time since he mastered the arcane arts.  Thorbeck’s wizards prove themselves to be skilled and respected, well versed in the arts of magic and artifice, and Halgo is quick to seize the opportunity to learn new spells and trade away some wands and scrolls for new and more interesting magic.  The only drawback to the city is the constant cry of “Grow your beard” that seem to follow him wherever he goes in the city.Geoffrey and Yip immerse themselves in the temple to Kuth Hammerhand, the dwarven manifestation of St Cuthbert.  Yip spends many blissful hours training with the Order of the Hammerhand, learning dwarven techniques of unarmed tunnel fighting, and spending the non-training hours sampling the wide variety of dwarven ales brewed by the order.  Geoffrey’s time is spent more constructively, engaging in hours of endless debates with Hammerhand's scholars in order to forge a common understanding of Law between the human empire and the dwarves.  As time passes he becomes conversant enough with Thorbeckian Law that he can represent non-dwarven victims in court, and earns a few extra coins from grateful merchants.Only Blarth seems to dislike the dwarven city.  His nights are spent tossing and turning in his chamber, constantly aware of the sheer drop not twenty feet away on the other side of the cave wall.  His days are spent training with the dwarven Rhakadar, an order of warriors who specialize in protecting Thorbeck from the psionic creatures that lurk beneath the earth.  While the Thorbeck Dwarves have welcomed the others with something approaching courtesy, the natural xenophobia of the Rhakadar around psions causes them to shun the half-orc psi-warrior, and many of the training matches he takes part in come closer to real sword-play than he’s comfortable with.  As the bruises mount up and the week wears on, his evening cries of “Puny Dwarves” slowly start to sound less and less convincing.At the end of the first week, the group settles in on the balcony.  In the distant, they can hear the rumbling hum of a dwarven hymn being sung in the cities churches, the baritone song echoing off the vast cavern.  Everyone drinks chilled drinks, served from an enchanted keg kept in the rooms, and Blarth hugs the rear wall trying not to look over the edge.“Hello!” Geoffrey calls, and pulls himself to his feet to answer the door.  One of the canine wardens is on the far side, its body held stiff and to attention.“Ah, Yes.” Geoffrey says, momentarily taken back by the creatures commanding aura.  “How can we be of assistance to you?”(Yip, watching from the balcony and unaware of the creature's planar background, tries to remember what he’s learned about dogs.“Yip scratch behind ears?” he wonders quietly, but the Warden shows no sign of hearing him.)“My employers wish you company for dinner,” it announces sternly.“And your employers are?” Geoffrey says, digging for information.“You’re fellow guests.”“Ahh.” He pauses, considering how far this can be pushed.  “What time?”“They will meet you in the dinning room just after Sundown.”“Before dinner?” Halgo asks, coming up to examine the outsider at close range.“Before dinner,” the Warden says.  “We have arranged for food to be brought from one of the restaurants below.”“Excellent,” Geoffrey says, casting a glance at Blarth.  “I shall start cleaning our bathwater.”“Hey,” Blarth calls.  “Blarth not smell.”“That just because you’ve got something up your nose.”“It’s his finger,” Halgo points out.“And Blarth can take it out.”He does so, waggling his fingers in front of his face to prove his statement.“Yip clean too.”“It doesn’t count when you rely on your own spittle,” Halgo tells him. The kobold offers a pout.The Warden clears its throat, and everyone remembers that it’s still standing there and listening.“We’ll be there,” Geoffrey says.“Excellent,”The dog-like face looks at them all very carefully, as if cataloging their strangeness for future reference, then turns on its heel and returns to its post by the door of the trade delegates.Everyone erupts into a frenzy of preparation, Geoffrey magically summoning bath water and cleaning himself, then forcing the less cleanly members of his team into something approaching presentability.  Halgo avoids bathing by the simple expedience of leaving, but he returns later with a fresh Thorbeckian Toga and a clean tunic.  Debate erupts over the politeness of wearing armor and weapons to dinner, with Blarth adamantly stating that there should be no problem and he has little else to wear.  Geoffrey tries to advocate smaller blades and light clothing, but eventually even he’s forced to admit that the half-orcs armor is probably the most presentable of his clothes and matters of politeness can be explained away by putting Blarth in the uniform of his order.When preparations are complete, they head out into the communal lounge.A large table has emerged from no-where, its top filled with bottles of wine and gold goblets.  Several copper serving trays hold steaming dishes of goat and rat meat, the staple diet of the dwarves, as well as thick slices of marinated fungi and strange fruit.Geoffrey fills one of the goblets and sniffs it carefully.“Goblin vintage,” he says carefully.  “Ichor wine.  Rare and expensive, probably the only thing the race got right.”“You can tell that by smelling it?” Halgo asks, sniffing a second goblet dubiously.“Practice,” Geoffrey says with a smile, and takes a cautious sip.Another doorway opens, and Amarin steps into the room.  The young scholar has dressed up for the occasion, wearing a crisp blue robe that has several glittering crystals sewn into its fabric.  The style is unfamiliar to everyone, and it looks vaguely ridiculous as it hangs on the psion’s gangly frame.“Hello again,” he says cheerfully.  “Are all of you here too?”“Greetings,” Geoffrey says.  “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.  Geoffrey Cromwell.”“”Oh, hello,” Amarin says, his smile broadening.  “Amarin Yarrow.”He shakes the clerics hand, looking from Geoffrey’s dress robes to Yip’s uniform.“So are you the one with the kobold for a pet?”Geoffrey tries to hide a grin.“Yes, but don’t try to pet him, he’s not tame.”“Yip resent that.”“Oh my!” Amarin says, almost clapping his hands with glee.  “You’ve taught it to talk.  What else can it say?”Yip snarls.“Down boy,” Geoffrey orders.“I think you’re upsetting our Yip,” Halgo says mildly.Amarin looks taken aback.“Really?”He kneels down until he’s on eye level with the kobold.“I’m sorry little fellow.  Here have a treat.”Amarin fishes around his belt pouch.  Everyone else takes a step back from the oblivious sage and the angry kobold standing before him.“Just so you know,” Geoffrey says.  “The Church of St Cuthbert takes no responsibility for any injury that may occur when dealing with our Brother Yip’s.”Yip simmers for a few moments, training warring with the desire to beat down the oblivious human that has so casually insulted him.“That also includes your hand, should you try to feed him something.”Fortunately, a dwarf bearing a tray enters the room before anything messy should happen.  The waiter carefully lays out bows of soup, one at each table setting, before disappearing.  The two Warden’s barely blink as everyone looks towards the door, and an uncomfortable silence descends as they realize that the host is unlikely to attend before the meal is started.“There are only five places set,” Amarin points out.  “Maybe he was held up by something?”“Perhaps,” Geoffrey mutters, but it’s clear he’s put out by the absence of the man who invited them.  “So,” he asks, taking a seat.  “What brings you here?”“Well, there was a story that the dwarves dug down into the subterranean palace where Winter lived when it’s not winter.  When they got him angry, he decided that it should always be winter here.”Geoffrey pauses, a spoon midway to his lips.  For a few seconds his thoughts wander to the holy symbol around his neck, and it’s magic that lets him determine truth from lie, but it seems inappropriate to use such extreme measure in polite company.    “You don’t really believe that, do you?”He narrows his eyes, searching Amarin’s face for some clue that he’s lying.There are none.  “Maybe,” the scholar says.  “I’ve heard a lot of stories, and it’s obviously very cold.  Colder than it should be, and so that’s one possibility.  There are others, a lot of them…”He trails off, realizing that everyone has stopped eating to stare at him in disbelief.“No, really,” he says earnestly.  “Look outside.  Most of the continents cold.”“Not cold to Blarth.”Geoffrey looks at the half-orc with a raised eyebrow.“What do you mean, not cold to Blarth?  You were the one who was turning blue the other night.”“And let us remind you,” Halgo says blandly, “that it isn’t a good reason…in fact, there’s never a good reason…for you to try and share blankets with the rest of us.”“That not happen,” Blarth mutters sullenly, but Amarin has already pulled out a notebook and scribbled something down.“Be quiet and enjoy your soup,” Geoffrey says.  “It’s good. I wonder what’s in it?”“Rat,” says Amarin eagerly.  “Some mushrooms, but mostly rat-meat.”Everyone suddenly becomes much less hungry.One of the Hlarden’s coughs politely, drawing everyone’s attention.  It’s partner reaches over and opens the doorway to the trade delegations guest room.  The being that emerges is tall, a little over six and a half feet, with chalk-white skin and black robes.  It’s pale eyes flash golden when they catch the light, and it carries itself forward with a stiff gait that reminds everyone of an insect.“What in hell is that,” Blarth thinks.“Undead,” Geoffrey thinks, hand wandering to his holy symbol. “Maybe vampire.”“Not nice,” Yip thinks, and wonders quietly whether there is garlic in their meal.“Crap,” thinks Halgo.The pale-skinned humanoid looks them over carefully, his mouth breaking into a wide smile when he sees the dwarven wizard.“Oh my.  Halgo” Kelpreth says.  “We must say, this city has been a place for surprises.”</blockquote>

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