The Forgotten Forge

[renau1g]

"Ok Thalmarose I was just making a suggestion, the lady said before she left that the dead guy said we should bring fire..." Cole says as he raises his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

 

[greenstar]

OOC You all get 100 experience.

 

[Pinnacle]

"I have several sunrods already. They last a pretty long time, do you think three is enough?

"I might suggest spending part of the money on a healing potion, in case somebody gets hurt while we're down there."

 

[renau1g]

"That's not a bad idea, we can look at either a potion of cure light wounds and maybe a couple of scrolls of it as well." Cole says, but then looking over at C he shakes his head "Although a scroll of repairing might be better for you, maybe we could grab one of those for Thalmarose"

 

[greenstar]

OOC Did everyone decide what to get or are you still deciding?

 

[renau1g]

OOC Not sure, I think there was some debate whether it would be better to grab some more healing or follow the Lady's advice of fire. I'm indifferent so maybe if no one posts objections by tonight we can follow Vertexx's suggestion of healing.

 

[Vertexx69]

"Indeed, eighteen hours of sparkless flame should be sufficient for the duration of our excursion. So a bit of varied healing sounds like a solid investment of our down payment." Closing his spellbook, Thalmarose puts it away as a gesture that he's ready to go.

 

[greenstar]

Everyone leaves the Broken Anvil. In the Bazaar you find a fat merchant who says he's selling potions and scrolls cheap. You get two scrolls of Repair Light Damage for 60 gp and one potion of Cure Light Wounds for 30 gp.

 

[greenstar]

Elaydren's map leads you to the lowest inhabited level of the Dorasharn Tower. The tunnels and corridors at this level of the tower are narrow and dark. An occasional window slit looks out upon the crowded walls and foundations of other towers, and infrequently placed torches sputter here and there, giving of pallid pools of light and clouds of smoke. Even so, rough and dirty people crowd the narrow corridors, and the smell of sweat and sewage permeates the stale air.
One tunnel opens onto a large chamber, where a mix of goblins, humans, and shifters gather around a small pile of garbage spread across three rotting blankets. One of the goblins shouts, "No pushing! No pushing! There's always enough for everyone at the Rat's Market!"

 

[Arabesu]

Uncomfortable in such situations, Rogarth puts one hand to the hilt of his rapier and the other right on top of his pouch, to make it more difficult for pickpockets to get his meager coinage.