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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 4724678" data-attributes="member: 13681">BellerosYour hands are slick with sweat and the Adversary is a dead weight. You manage to pull him clear of debris, but little else. The heat of the glowing boulders throbs, pushing at you. A shrill wailing fills your ears and you hear, nearby, the startled shouts of the dwarves who accompanied you.  HeskrashThe roar of the waterfall is the loudest single sound in the cavern. You strain your ears......from above you hear voices - shouts and cries - echoing down....other voices, nearer, call to one another and bark commands...and then! A sudden piercing wail shrills from over towards Hammer Plinth.  Zlatan and the others flinch at the sound and all but the young priest cover their ears. Zlatan's blankly staring eyes go wide and he gasps, mouth working slightly as if he does see something and is attempting to speak.Korask looks at the pile of weapons and after a moment, selects a spear from the armaments. To no one in particular he murmurs, "That can't be good." Wallack and the other dwarf scurry forward and choose weapons themselves.GutwickLady Mishet is a cousin of The Duke. But then, all of the humans in Naedur were related. They all have the same pale, silvery hair, the same purplish eyes, the same pale skin, the same nasal voices, the same air of entitlment. As if their progenitors were solely responsible for Naedur's construction. They were only partly responsible. Well, a greater part, but still. They were nobles Before. And there were no citizens of Naedur they liked lording that over more than the Goblins. The humans of Naedur were cold and haughty, nothing at all like the warm and vibrant creature standing near the Lady. The warm and vibrant creature that raises her hands to cast...! She seems to think better of it and moves over to where young Lord Lehrik... really 'Lord' and 'Lady' were superfluous when naming the humans, they all made some claim or other to titles, but woe betide the lowly scut workers who didn't address their 'betters' properly ...lay groaning.  "Fetch a litter," Lady Mishet snapped, "Or, better, bring one of the healers here. Lord Lehrik shouldn't be moved. Hurry!"A shriek from a decidedly inhuman throat stabs across the cavern. It resonates the bones of your head.<a href="http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=p3qFFPe_Psl7g9j7uX90qcg" target="_blank">Map</a> updated.KrikYou draw, aim, fire, draw, aim, fire. One kruthik collapses, jerking spasmodically and snapping at the arrow that pierces its plates. The others chirp as he dies, but make no change in their singleminded assault. The other arrow flies past. To your left a kruthik falls to a fierce swipe.The kinsman to your right darts to intercept the kruthik advance, he takes a deep breath preparing to envelope the advance and stops, lungs still expanded, wisps of flame licking out from between his teeth -- a raspy shriek blasts from a cluster of shards a short distance away. It is difficult to make out more than shadows and movement. In the dying echoes, a wave of kruthik errupt from the shards towards you.Your kinsman bares his teeth and, with a careful hiss, lets out the pent up breath, saving it for later. He slashes with a knife at one of the kruthik bearing down on him. It tumbles to the side, dead. Each death elicits a chirrup from the kruthik swarm.In the face of your resistence, the first wave of kruthik turn and join the new wave. The one beside you backs away, dodging a swipe from the kinsman to your left. It is not so lucky, however, that it evades you. The swarms chirrup with decisive agitation.<a href="http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=p3qFFPe_Psl7x8yf3Er_SLQ" target="_blank">Map</a> updated.MaskThe 'young one' is a man grown. Lady Mishet's grasp of elven is shaky and her word choices are part archaic and part some unfamiliar dialect, though the meanings are relatively clear. His wounds aren't obvious, but his breathing is shallow, his coloration decidedly gray and his lips bluish.A chilling shriek sounds from one end of the cavern. That was the direction one of the dragonborn workers went. The echoes of the wail bounce, warping the sound into something that almost resembles words.The Lady hunkers protectively over the young man. The dwarf next to him lunges to his feet, one arm across his face, shoulder and forearm covering his ears from the noise. He drags a short sword from its sheath.<a href="http://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=p3qFFPe_Psl7g9j7uX90qcg" target="_blank">Map</a> updated.</blockquote>

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