Last Stand of the Dorinthians (Chapter 4- The Second Invasion)

[GlassEye]

"Well, thank the Mother this is a diplomatic mission," murmurs Silas to no one in particular, "I would hate to have heard Barok's non-diplomatic response." And I thought I was the tactless one. He snorts at his private thought and hopes that Carmip and Nikolos can calm the situation.

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Caramip begins to play a tune, but too late to stop Silas Generwine from drawing his blade in anger and moving towards Barok. But that's when Nikolos' spell goes off and stops the elf in his tracks. With a smirk, the rogue decides not to attack the elf and begins to walk away.

With the gnome's music lightening the air, much of the crowd gives a smile at the way that hostilities were avoided. Still, many of the elves that were closer and heard Barok's words look at the group in disgust. Celeste turns her nose upwards as she hands Dartis the items she was helping to carry. "I believe I should go back to my shop. I suddenly find the company less to my tastes as I had before I noticed a certain bad smell." That said, the beautiful elf walks away quickly.

The party rests up for one more night before heading out. Kel doesn't return, but a messenger informs you that he is investigating something important. When it is time to leave, Kel and a few other councilmen that you barely recognize are there to see you off. Pleasant and polite words are exchanged, while the elves wish you luck and good speed. You even see Celeste watching further away while leaning slightly on a large tree, her arms crossed.

As your party gives final good-byes, Kel leans in closer to all of you and says something just out of earshot of the others, his political grin never leaving his face. "I found out that there is a third adventuring group on this mission. I know not yet what they do, but their existence is not known by the majority of the council."

OOC: I will detail your journey tomorrow.

 

[Nephtys]

Celeste turns her nose upwards as she hands Dartis the items she was helping to carry. "I believe I should go back to my shop. I suddenly find the company less to my tastes as I had before I noticed a certain bad smell." That said, the beautiful elf walks away quickly.

"Yeah, I noticed that as well. Let's put some distance between us and that dressed up sewer-rat," he glances back at Silas Generwine, smirking, before sheating his blade again and walking away with the others.
This should be fun... The elves have long memories, but they need us too much to move against us now and later they will be too weak. Still, a few enemies in their ranks could be useful in the future.

 

[Deuce Traveler]

As they depart, Kel hands Silas a strange, square crystal. The key to where the Lord of the Mountain rests, and a device of astonishing perfection. The blue-tinged crystal itself is more transparent than opaque, but no flaw can be detected on or beneath its surface. It fits comfortably and lightly in the abjurers hand, although it's about the size of a closed fist.

The journey itself takes two weeks by horse, and the party has several encounters it is forced to deal with. Early on, a patrol of a dozen inexperienced orcs sees the party and tries to teach the trespassers a lesson. By the time they got into melee range, five of their number had fallen to bows or magic and the blades of Barok, Dartis, and Ventus quickly dispatch the rest.

At a rocky campsite closer to Ice Mountain, a cougar decides to try and make off with a sleeping Caramip but finds itself grappling with more than it can chew. The result of the conflict ended with a few extra bits of treated fur to keep the party warmer.

And the cold becomes an important enemy. The temperatures have dropped significantly the farther the party advances, and the horses suffer as well as you do. The land is sparsely dotted with trees, and each morning the dew freezes into the rare grass, causing your steps to make a crunching noise when you walk. Any animal large enough to skin and cross the party's path is quickly killed; for both the coat and also because the tasteless porridge coming from the magical spoons that were given to you quickly becomes old fair. Bathing and shaving becomes less frequent for several of the less disciplined party members, since the cold water on exposed skin could be dangerous if not used and then quickly wiped away.

Finally, clothed partially in your own clothes and also in new furs and some more hairy than they had left, the party reaches Ice Mountain. On the other side of it you can see the orc capital, a surprisingly large sprall of badly constructed buildings and huts. By the size of the settlement, you guess that there are over fifty thousand orcs in that one location alone, a number that astonishes since it is larger than the Dorinthian capital during that cities hayday.

Climbing an old mountain trail shown on the map, the party begins to slowly ascend Ice Mountain. It takes all day to get to the shown location, and at night you reach it; a flat wall with two rocky spires flanking the surface. In the dim twighlight and torchlights you don't see anyway in, which is strange since the map indicates that this is where you want to be. Also, the temperature is dipping uncomfortably, the horses are neighing with tired protests, and you can feel the exhaustion in your body as the night grows darker and you become aware that you have yet to set up camp.

 

[Kobold Stew]

OOC: ...
For Danica, I would normally only accept the pearl at a portion of its normal value for a trade, but I'll give her equal value to be nice. She hands over the 70gp in change to Nikolos.

Whew...

OOC: wow, gee, okay. thanks.

Hmm. I guess one never knows what constitutes a house rule. In all the games I've played in (at least that I can remember), gems etc were as much legal tender as coins, among civilized realms (I know, for example, of no rules in various editions for exhange rates, or non-standard-sized gps. Does anyone?)

Certainly, in buying the pearl it was merely a way for danica to hold onto wealth without physically holding 500 separate gold pieces. What other solutions are there?

I certainly hadn't been trying to pull a fast one. So, er, again, thanks.

Also,

rather than scrounge, I should note that Danica actually has more money (almost 150 gp more, actaully) that she can offer. I have been trying to play her pretty private and conservative with money, though -- I figure she has never enjoyed wealth or comfort, still thinks of herself primarily as a girl who makes soup for the soldiers (though that is starting to drop since her confession). But when she had (or thought she had, given the above) 70 gp in her hand, given for magic items that she once would have been hesitant to carry, I felt she couldn't just pocket the change. But she does have more.

So---

(if we can backtrack before today's post from DT)

she is happy to offer the rest of her money as an investment in the future of Dorinthia.

 

[Kobold Stew]

As Danica walks with the others to Ice Mountain, she is smiling, with a spring in her step. She is happy travelling through the woods, and while she has much to talk about and to share with the others, she does find that she gets tired before most of the others, and is concerned that she is going to end up slowing down the journey.

At least I don't wear armour, she thinks, looking at some of her comrades.

The occasional conflicts are actually quite salutary for her. Over the two weeks of travel, she realizes that she hasn't once used her crossbow. It has stayed in her hands, or on her hip, but not a bolt was fired. Instead, she has been exploring the various rays that she can now send forth from her fingertips. Rays of Frost for wild animals, to scare them more than anything else, and get them to keep their distance. Rays of enfeeblement for the overarmoured orcs, weakening their bodies so that their weapons no longer have force behind them. And that once, her new spell, the scorching ray.

The day of the cougar was also the day of Rix's eighth birthday, she thinks to herself.

While she is happy to take her watches, and to hellp pitch the camp everynight, even she notices her spirits drop as the second week draws to a close. She is a bit cranky by mid-afternoon, and is sleeping longer. She hates it when she can see her breath as she lies in her bedroll, and aches at the thought of waking.

But of course, wake she does. Wrapping a blanket around herself even as she walks in the day is not ideal, but she tries it for a morning, before giving up and stowing it in her pack again. The steam issuing from her mouth blows back on her face, and she can feel the frost mist settle on her cheeks. She wishes she could grow a beard.

And now this, an apparent dead end. She stands, blowing into her cupped hands for warmth, the body heat of her rat companion nestled on her shoulders, as the two share nuzzle into each other. It occurs to her that she hasn't actually spoken to anyone this morning, nor has she smiled--not a real smile, at least.

She looks at the end of the trail. Perhaps a pass has iced up? or an ice bridge collapsed? Are there any hints of what this might be at other times of the year?

 

[Blarkon Dragonslayer]

The day they leave: Nikolos, seeing Celeste watching the group depart, gives her a cheerful wave. He finds himself somewhat troubled by the events of the previous day. But there isn't time now to smooth things over.

As they travel: Nikolos does what he has since joining the group. He heals when necessary, and when things get cold, keeps a couple of endure elements spells on hand for Danica and his friend Caramip. He also makes a note to scribe a number of scrolls of the spell, the next time he has the materials, and the time. For his own warmth he relies on the same fur-lined long coat, gloves, and heavy cloak he always does on long treks in chill weather.

Otherwise, his personal routine doesn't change. He always remains perfectly shaved, and groomed, no matter how cold it gets. His daily morning prayers to the Seeker, facing the rising sun, also never vary. He also remains quite cheerful, occasionally pointing out the joy of travel, and the possibility that they might learn quite a lot from an ancient temple site, fearsome beasts of legend aside.

On arrival: Nikolos will look over the situation, and then move closer, trying to find any place where a fist sized square crystal could be placed, as well as seeking more mundane secret doors.

 

[Nephtys]

Barok doesn't mind the cold, and the wilderness agrees with him. Though the nights were lonely (and had been ever since he left New Dorinthia) he pressed himself too hard during the days to have the energy to miss the intimacy (Aside from once, when the nights were getting cold, when he offered to share his blankets with Danica for warmth.) As the party's scout it fell upon him to ride, and walk, ahead or behind or to the side of the group when the terrain looked dangerous or suitable for ambush and the pace was starting to wear him down.
Arriving was a relief, though the sight of the orcish city gives a bitter expression to his face. The alliance with the Elves did not make sense. Properly managed the orcs could have been of far more use than the elves... but enough of that. The die had been cast, and looking back Barok realises that it could have fallen no other way. Leaving those thoughts behind for the moment he focus on the task at hand, moving stealthily about looking for hidden dangers.

 

[GlassEye]

Silas stares at the blank wall between the two rocky spires and scratches at the two-week growth of reddish beard that has begun to cover his chin. It itches and is distracting and doesn't really provide the warmth that he thought it would. A cold gust of wind pierces his cloak and he pulls the not fully cured skin that he has been using as an overcloak more tightly around his shoulders. The smell doesn't bother him nearly as much as it did a week ago. Is it the cold? Or have I just gotten used to it? He sighs, feeling much more akin to an orcish shaman than a human wizard at the moment with his furs and carved staff and, truth be told, surly disposition.

He slips from his horse and nearly falling flails about until he manages to grasp onto his saddle and prevent himself from tumbling to the ground. Mother! My feet are cold. Silas glances quickly over at Barok hoping he didn't notice then rummages around in his pack until he gets his hands on the crystal given him by Kel. "It must be a key of some sort," he says quietly to himself.

Slowly he walks over to the wall and joins Nikolos in his examination for any sign of door or arcane mark. Some sort of entrance. Then he'll examine each stone spire. +10 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) "Find anything yet, Nikolos?"

 

[Bloodweaver1]

Caramip Ashhearth

She wraps her furs a bit tighter as the mountain’s cold air begins to chill her bones. She takes a hard look around the frozen pass, hoping to find either an entrance or some halfway descent shelter. Leaning over to Nikolous she calls out the wind, “This Lord of the Mountain better have a hearth the size of a horse!”

Turning her attention towards Silas she calls out again, “Can that stone be of any help in finding the entrance?”

OOC: Bardic Knowledge +9