Return to Ironstorm Mountain

[Mellubb]

Brottor looks around. The spirits of the dwarves in the tavern are bleak. He rises and greets his fellow dwarf and the man who volunteered himself. “My name is Brottor Stonehammer, Goren, myself, and few others traveled here to meet up with volunteers from various Dwarven sects hoping to reclaim Iron Storm Mount. If your friends remains can be collected below I hope we find them. Master Zerul your help is most welcome as well. But know we march in Moradin’s name and to glorify Him.” Brottor steps toward the middle of the tavern floor. In a loud and confident voice he says “Brothers and sisters for to long we have let ourselves be deceived, tricked by a message we may not of even heard ourselves! We go about our daily business without regard to who we are. We are DWARVES!! We can not let the thoughts of greed and personal gain, poison us. We must take pride in who we are. What we were. We have forgotten our past and so we are forgotten by the future. But all is not lost we have HOPE!! But we must take it. If we are drowning we can not pass up a raft to save our lives and then blame The All Father when we drown. We must look for the signs he sends us and then take action in response to those signs. I have come that we may retake Iron Storm Mount and reclaim its glory. OUR GLORY, OUR PRIDE, OUR SALVATION!! If you join me I promise two things and two things only. One you face hardships your worst childhood nightmares could not fathom and two you gain favor in the eyes Moradin and know what it is to be a Dwarf. Who is with me?"

 

[WarlockLord]

"I am with you. I have little else to do," says the disciple of chaos, hoping that he can improve the reputation of his faith to the dwarves.

 

[EvolutionKB]

Darmon

"We are with you as well. If would be good to have more companions to protect us from the innumberable dangers that lie below the surface."

 

[James Heard]

Being outside, not being particularly interested in speeches, and still interested in the nature of the strange weathering, Adun pays no attention to the glory-hounding, chest-beating antics inside the tavern.

 

[Raylis]

The tavern would normally be Oskas' first stop in a new town, especially with those other dwarves that didn't have the defeated look of the townsfolk enter it. Despite the noise spilling out from the establishment the would-be Defender turns toward the militia house and leads his pony to the door, stopping outside of it and knocking loudly.

 

[Scribbler]

Torgga enters the tavern after her stop in the general store to find the growing not of mostly-dwarven people.

"Well what's goin' on in here? Don' tell me the heirs of the whole clan're havin' the same idea?

"Well, count me in. A company beats a few wanderers, 'specially if we're all goin' to the same place anyway."

 

[WarlockLord]

"The more the merrier, as the wise say."

OOC: Out of town until Monday.

 

[-SIN-]

"Wisdom is not what ye need!", croaks a broken, old voice from behind. "Had ye any, you wouldn't be headed up to that cur'sed place!", says a gruff looking old man dressed in tattered sack leggings and shirt. The bedraggled old man, seeing he has your attention continues, "Ye think any o' these peoples live here by choice? Brigands, thieves, outcasts and knaves, the lot of 'em! NO, I tells ye. They're here 'cause it's their last hope. Their last chance of makin' some riches, or for some, a last chance of living a normal, quiet life. I warn ye, strange things happen 'round these parts",he pauses, looking at you each in turn as he continues, "People vanish. New businesses go bust. Only a handful of shops remain, their business strong. Especially the caravan master. Struck a deal with local magistrate, so I hear'd, to provide secure transport for prisoners to and from the prison up on mount Ironstorm - thing is.... I ain't ne'er seen any come back. I tells ye, Ironstorm is cursed!" Finished his rant, he slumps in his chair in an attempt to regain his breath.

[sblock=Raylis]
Loud footsteps can be heard approaching before the door is unceremoniously wrenched open, a huge figure appearing in it's place. For a briefest of seconds the half-orc doesn't register you, then taking a step back he turns his frown down upon you. "Yes, what is you want?" he asks in a gruff manner, obviously rubbing sleep from his eyes.[/sblock]

[sblock=James Heard]
The stone appears to be extremely eroded, but not by nature. The pitting irregular and chaotic. The wooden parts look burnt from a distance, though upon closer inspection you can clearly see that some highly corrosive substance must be responsible for the damaged caused.
[/sblock]

 

[cheshire_grin]

"I tells ye, Ironstorm is cursed!"

Goren runs a hand down the haft of his massive greataxe absently, completely unfazed by the old man's vehemence--it would be a surprise indeed if this expedition were as easy as telling granite from marble, after all.

He looks around the room at the other dwarves who responded to Brottor's speech, taking the measure of each of them before looking at Brottor curiously, waiting to see how he'll react.

 

[James Heard]

Adun looks for a child, because children are generally guileless, and demands they explain the state of the wood and stone here.