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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1395580" data-attributes="member: 2292">The Holy Forge of Durkannan is the largest temple in Throbeck, and its resources are considerable, but even with this in mind the Copperheads are surprised by the secret door built into the side of the very volcano that allows their flying skiff access to the temple.  The dwarf seated at the centre of the skiff flies straight towards the wall with a determined grimace, and the metallic flying machine and its passengers pass easily through the stone.  The skiff is guided through a series of stone passageways, then lands gently in the midst of a small underground stream.  The group is guided off, and lead by the three dwarves to a small chamber.“Wait here,” the robed dwarf orders.  “Do not wander the temple – our guards have orders to kill anyone they don’t recognise.  The Forgeson will find you shortly, and everything will be explained.”Then the dwarf leaves, and the group is left alone and without light.  They wait a few seconds, wondering if perhaps this was a mistake, but when no further light-sources or visitors manifest themselves they settle for regarding one another in the dim light shed by Luckbringer and the Warhammer Geoffrey collected from the renegade Justicar beneath the Tusk forest.“What do you think they want?” Blarth ventures finally, after he grows bored with examining the dwarven runes carved into the walls.  “We do something wrong?”“Not that I’m aware of,” Geoffrey says, mentally running through the groups recent activities.  “I’m not fully conversant with the differences between this church and the worship of Durkannan in the empire, but I’m fairly sure we’ve avoided most of the major taboo’s.  It’s likely they really do have something for us to do.”“Why us?” Halgo wonders.  “That’s what bothers me.  Why not local heroes?  There are a dozen dwarves in this city more skilled than we are, and dozens more just as good as us.  Why bother getting us involved?”“Politics?” Amarin guesses.  “Maybe some kind of religious problem?”“The gravest kind of religious problem,” a voice whispers from the doorway.  Everyone turns to see a middle-aged dwarf standing in the doorway, his grey skin worn to a stone-like smoothness and his reddish beard flecked with the beginnings of white.  He carries a heavy hammer and pick at his belt, and the holy anvil of Durkannan forged from mithril is resplendent on his chest.  It seems likely that this is Yurgar Forgeson, High Priest of the Holy Forge of Thorbeck, and that he’s arrived in a room of unarmed strangers without any visible armour or escort only serves to make everyone more nervous.“The church apologises for gathering you at this late hour,” Yurgar begins.  “Had we the time and luxury of going through more diplomatic channels, I assure you we would have done so, but this situation warrants such breaches of protocol in the name of expediency.  To further complicate matters, I must ask that you agree to this task before I can explain it to you.  You stand on the very edge of a grave secret, one that belongs not only to the church but also to Durkannan himself, and we cannot bring you into this without knowing that you are willing to help us.  Even by offering you this opportunity, I am on the very border of shattering a thousand years of Church dogma, so I urge you to consider this very carefully before you agree.  I will not lie to you – the task I would ask of you is dangerous, potentially deadly, but there is no other in the city who can undertake it and we risk the very lives of everyone in this city and in your over-land towns if it is not dealt with.  Will you agree?”</blockquote>

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