Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 2: The Indomitable Fire Forest of Innenotdar

[funkmamagoat]

but if we let Kirio here do the talking, I'm sure we can negotiate something fair.

Kirio smiles at the younger elf "your confidence is appreciated..., not sure what we're walking into though..., are they immune to normal weapons?" With that, Kirio bends down once more and, using his cloak to protect himself from the likely very hot bone, picks it up with a sour grimace on his face...

 

[The Bashar]

"Silver you say? Well I have some silver coins. Bannock didn't you say you worked as or with a smith? The fire may be hot enough to melt down the silver, do you think you could fashion it into a bullet for my sling?"

 

[digimattic]

Arnir turns to Kirio "No, no...not immune, but they are simply more vulnerable to silver and blessed weapons, or those that have been aligned good. If Torrent here could bless our arrows and weapons, we may do quite well....you know, assuming we don't come across a more powerful Devil, which I believe will be unlikely. We will most assuredly come into contact with a lower-level member of their plane. And Mystra save us otherwise."

 

[Bannock]

Bannock beams a grin at Hrimr.

"I would make the finest sling bullet you've ever laid eyes on! A bullet to slay a thousand of those vile barghest hounds! But it's not so simple, dwarf, I thought your people were born knowing how to forge things! Open flames aren't usually enough to melt even soft metals like silver. We need to assemble a kiln of some kind to contain the heat, then I need a small crucible to melt the coins in, and a cast to shape the bullet. Sadly though, my tools are far behind us in Gate Pass, probably looted by some goblin-humping Ragesian by now. Hrmph."

 

[digimattic]

Sadly though, my tools are far behind us in Gate Pass, probably looted by some goblin-humping Ragesian by now. Hrmph."

Arnir Pipes up quickly and says as dryly as he can manage "Bannock, his name is Hrmir."

 

[fromage67]

Lars says, "How about we leave these thrice-cursed forest as quickly as we can! I can't believe you guys think we could fight devils and live."

 

[Adjuntive]

Lars says, "How about we leave these thrice-cursed forest as quickly as we can! I can't believe you guys think we could fight devils and live."

"You speak as if we might have a choice. I think the message of this bone is evidence enough that they will not let us leave this forest without an encounter with them. They found us once, they'll find us again. Have courage my friend," Alric offers Lars a wolfish grin, "If they mean to take our souls they will not get them without a bloody time of it. Though you do have a point, we should not tarry and continue on our path. Make them come to us."

 

[fromage67]

Lars replies with a less than convincing grin of his own. "Well, my soul is my own, they will have to fight indeed to have it."

 

[The Bashar]

Bannock beams a grin at Hrimr.

"I would make the finest sling bullet you've ever laid eyes on! A bullet to slay a thousand of those vile barghest hounds! But it's not so simple, dwarf, I thought your people were born knowing how to forge things! Open flames aren't usually enough to melt even soft metals like silver. We need to assemble a kiln of some kind to contain the heat, then I need a small crucible to melt the coins in, and a cast to shape the bullet. Sadly though, my tools are far behind us in Gate Pass, probably looted by some goblin-humping Ragesian by now. Hrmph."

"It's a common mistake to think all Dwarves know metallurgy. My Hold is quite poor in metals, we have to trade for our iron and gold. We are know for our works of stone and our Hold architects. All Dwarves do learn to fight when they are young. Then they are chosen for different professions. I was one of the few to be chosen to train in the Heart Cave and become a druid.

Alas, it would have been good to have more silver weapons. As I said we must be careful, you can try to parlay if you wish but I doubt they will let us go with the case. We should be ready for the worst."

 

[Gregor]

an infernal harrier

After perhaps 10 minutes of walking down the road and discussing, something suddenly appears out of nowhere in the center of the road.

In a chrysanthemum burst of flowering flame, a creature stands before you, maybe 50 or 60 feet away, cloaked, smoldering, and wielding a wicked-looking saw-toothed glaive stained with blood. A tattered brown cloak whips about this man-sized creature’s scaled body. It has the scaled and scarred face of a savage creature but its clever and commanding eyes glow with infernal fire, and its thick beard writhes and bites like a nest of vipers. Barely visible under its beard is a thick metal collar attached to a length of limply dangling chain. It only has four fingers on its left hand, and a scaled, dessicated pinky finger hangs on a cord around its neck.

When it speaks, its deep commanding voice seems to come from far away, as if pulled from the layers of Hell itself:
"Ahhhhhh I am so pleased that you did not simply leave the case I desire in the middle of the road. Where is the sport in that? So, you wish to negotiate with a minion of Baator do you? Very well, here are the terms. First, you give me the case. Second, we will then discuss the tasks you will do for me, in exchange for staying my blood-lusted hand. Failure to agree will result in me slaughtering you and taking what I desire. Are you enjoying the negotiations?"