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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1838950" data-attributes="member: 143">There's more to Beorna than meets the eye.  I don't want to give anything away, but I think you'll find that despite her tough talk, she's actually a pretty decent tactician.  Give her until the end of the current book, and let me know if she still feels one-dimensional to you in this regard. As for Zarik Dhor: he is (was) a half-black dragon minotaur Ftr4/Bbn4 (14HD total).  He had Combat Reflexes, Exotic WP (chain), Imp. Bull Rush, Iron Will, Multiattack, Power Attack, and WF and WS with the chain.  Remember that you can trip with an AoO, which he did on a few occasions.  He didn't have Improved Trip but with a +30/25/20 FA with the chain (plus a +25 bite and gore) he hardly needed it. * * * * * Chapter 255For all her earlier protests, Zenna dug deeply into her reservoir of power to treat the injuries they’d suffered in their brief but violent confrontation with Zarik Dhor.  She also expended a good half-dozen charges from her recently recharged wand of cure moderate wounds.  At this point, we’re going to qualify for a bulk discount, she thought grimly.  At least Beorna could heal herself. When she’d gotten to Hodge, she’d been surprised to find the dwarf in better shape than she’d expected.  It turned out that the dwarf had made an investment of his own in Saradush: an iron flask nearly a quart in size, which the enterprising miner had filled to the brim with cure light wounds potions.  Or at least mostly with potions; Zenna thought she smelled something else from the flask.  But while there might be something vaguely sacrilegious in the idea of cutting healing potions with strong whiskey, as long as the dwarf’s concoction worked, preserving her own limited supply of healing, she was willing to accept it.  And if the dwarf’s steps were a bit more unsteady after his “treatment,” at least he wasn’t going to bleed to death.Thus fortified, the companions continued their way down Obsidian Avenue toward their destination.  Up close, the Church of Kelemvor was even more impressive than it had been from a distance.  The structure was fashioned of gray volcanic stone, but there were no obvious seams in the stone, and the overall shape of the building had too many curves to be entirely natural.  Atop the great dome of the first level—itself a good fifty feet in height—rose the tall cylinder that culminated in the great, slender spire that formed a point that was the highest spot in Cauldron.  Magic, Zenna thought.  “No honest hands made that,” Arun confirmed, a moment later. “Let us be about this then,” Beorna said, starting toward the great double doors, each fifteen feet high and six feet across, that fronted the street.  Zenna felt a strong feeling of unease as they approached the temple; in all the place was too quiet for even a weekday morning, the grounds around the temple sterile and empty, although the gardens that fronted the structure on its north side were pristine and meticulously trimmed.  But it was as if the building emitted an invisible aura that kept the townsfolk at bay.  Even the avenue in the general area was virtually unpopulated, with just a handful of pedestrians and a single horse-drawn cart visible nearby.Beorna reached the double doors and pushed; the heavy door swung open easily at her pressure.  With a half-glance to ensure that the others were following, she headed inside. For all their travels and diverse experiences, the interior of the temple gave them pause.  The place was huge.  This single chamber, the central nave of the great cathedral where worshippers gathered to offer their prayers to the Eternal Judger, seemed to encompass the entire radius of the great cylinder that made up the bulk of the temple structure.  The chamber seemed architecturally impossible, a dome over a hundred feet across, with the great spire atop its apex rising above even its considerable height.  A narrow metal staircase curved up along the wall to their right, offering an apparent access to that spire and whatever chambers lay above. The place could have accommodated hundreds of worshippers without difficulty, but the place was uncannily silent.  Their bootsteps sounded eerily loud on the marble floor, the center of which was designed into a massive mosaic depicting the scales of Kelemvor that was nearly sixty feet across.  Tall windows of colored glass set high in the walls around the perimeter of the dome filled the center of the room with glorious light, drawing the eye to that design.  Below the windows the walls had been covered with cloth hangings dyed in soft, unobtrusive colors, pale whites and grays that seemed to enfold and reassure.  In the shadows along the edges of the room dozens of wooden pews had been pushed back to the walls, leaving the center of the chamber unobstructed.  A set of double doors easily twenty feet across—it seemed nothing was of small scale in this place—was visible in the far wall, standing open to reveal a raised dais with an grand altar of some sort upon its surface.The companions could not help but gape a bit as they looked about the place.  Even the Moontower in Iriaebor could not compete with the quiet majesty of this temple, Zenna thought, and she could feel the constant thrum of power that seemed to reside in the very stones of the structure. Beorna seemed less impressed, and was already walking out into the room when Dannel stopped her with a warning.  “Someone’s there,” Dannel said, drawing their attention back to the open doors and the dais beyond. They all saw him as he stepped into the light, a tall human clad in a robe that did not fully conceal the hard lines of armor underneath.  He had a sour look to him, as though everything he looked upon evoked disfavor.  “We’ve been expecting you,” he said, his nasal, pinched voice nonetheless filling the vast interior of the temple.  Behind him, other figures appeared at the doors, armed men who resolved into grim-faced half-orc warriors, clad in full plate with shields and huge waraxes.  They spread out before the priest, eight in all. “Seems you can’t turn around in this town without tripping over an orc,” Beorna said, calmly drawing her sword. “Priest of Kelemvor!” Dannel said.  “We do not come seeking violence... we wish only to speak with Ike Iverson, on behalf of Jenya Urikas of Helm...”But he never got a chance to finish, for two other forms appeared in the sanctuary behind the altar stone.  They filled the doorway behind the cleric, and even though the doorway was ten feet tall, they had to duck as they stepped through. “Stone giants!” Hodge exclaimed.  “Don’t do this!” Dannel shouted, but the intent of the others was clear even before the giants lifted their arms and hurled boulders at the companions.</blockquote>

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