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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7387344" data-attributes="member: 6799460">Gathering (Metea, Carthum, Otiroth, Annit)Metea's quick inspection of the two dwarves isn't particularly enlightening, and maybe she just loses interest quickly. In its current state, even the one that still appears to cling to some last vestige of life, won't be able to impart any useful information any time soon. Fixing this probably seems more like Carthum's realm.Over by the crevice though, that is where the action is! Ah, the sounds of a scuffle, the squeal of the hunted! Whatever is going on down there definitely sounds intense.More light bleeds into the relative safety of the lair behind the warlock. Otiroth's dancing lights are actually most helpful, showing the rest of the space for what it actually is. It seems that no further secrets have been lurking in the dark confines, but extra illumination is certainly good for the soul and morale.Speaking of souls, it would appear to Carthum that the paralyzed dwarf still has one. A tiny fragment, a tatter of something within that struggles to grip at life. Stuck between two worlds, perhaps a little sacred guidance will make a difference. For a moment the little man trembles beneath the priest’s touch. Any response comes as good news, that maybe, just maybe it has some remote chance of making it back.The dwarven lips part then, as in common he whispers, “Wood against skin, don't let go, don't… brother… no… the sea…”Then the poor little fellow goes quiet again.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7387344, member: 6799460"] [b]Gathering (Metea, Carthum, Otiroth, Annit)[/b] Metea's quick inspection of the two dwarves isn't particularly enlightening, and maybe she just loses interest quickly. In its current state, even the one that still appears to cling to some last vestige of life, won't be able to impart any useful information any time soon. Fixing this probably seems more like Carthum's realm. Over by the crevice though, that is where the action is! Ah, the sounds of a scuffle, the squeal of the hunted! Whatever is going on down there definitely sounds intense. More light bleeds into the relative safety of the lair behind the warlock. Otiroth's dancing lights are actually most helpful, showing the rest of the space for what it actually is. It seems that no further secrets have been lurking in the dark confines, but extra illumination is certainly good for the soul and morale. Speaking of souls, it would appear to Carthum that the paralyzed dwarf still has one. A tiny fragment, a tatter of something within that struggles to grip at life. Stuck between two worlds, perhaps a little sacred guidance will make a difference. For a moment the little man trembles beneath the priest’s touch. Any response comes as good news, that maybe, just maybe it has some remote chance of making it back. The dwarven lips part then, as in common he whispers, “Wood against skin, don't let go, don't… brother… no… the sea…” Then the poor little fellow goes quiet again. [/QUOTE]

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