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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Kareyev" data-source="post: 1515616" data-attributes="member: 4823">Session 2: Dwarven Folly Well to jumble up this thread a bit more here is the same tale from the other dwarven brother's perspective. Ejja, I can break this off in a separete thread if you prefer. Raskilnov laid down upon the wet ground looking up into the night sky.  This trip had not gone as planned.  The image of Stonebeard pelted with more rocks that any mortal could take filled his mind.  Then the guilt came.  Instead of moving to his leaders side Raskilnov had fled.  No better then a kobold.It was true that it would of been a death wish to run out by Stonebeard's side, but that was not even the worst of it.  As he fled he stumbled into his brother and quickly convinced him to follow him on orders he had never received.  "Stonebeard wants us to find support while he holds them off"!  It had kept Spats alive.  There had been no other way.He lost all track of time and direction running in what seemed to be the endless moors.  They ran until coming to the river, which by chance was being traveled by a stranger upon a raft who offered them refuge.  He had let his brother do the talking and though he was not fond of the idea of riding what seemed to be a leaky raft, it was better than walking any further.The raft stopped in Jalston, a large, walled city of humans.  After a bid of wandering and well placed questions they had found their way to a Dwarven inn on the far side of the town.  Spats and he talked about the hunt and final battle.  It was clear that Spats believed the tale about their final order and had even been asking where stout men may be found.With the dwarven wiskey flowing they must of been talking a bit louder than intended as it was then the well dressed, spear toting human came up asking about their tale.  Seeing a chance to recruit some help Raskilnov attempted to charm the human.  "What do you want pretty boy!"  Spats quickly took over the conversation and soon the human warrior Rath had introduced his two friends, Griz and Arron, and all three agreed to return with them to the moors.  He was sure all of the dwarven band had perished, but the least he could do would be to retrieve their remains for a proper burial.The next day the quintet had returned to the moors.  Though Spats and he knew how to live in the wild, with neither of them being skilled trackers it took the better part of a day find the old trail.  By the end of the second day they were sure they had found the old battle ground.  Making camp that night so near it was probably not the brightest idea, but the solid day of travel had worn everyone out.  It was during Spats's watch that the kobolds came.  Rocks rained down upon them as before, but this time Raskilnov had been ready for battle.  Quickly everyone was awake and took cover behind a small rise.  Arron had already constructed a beatiful tactic as any good priest of Darien would do.  He had not only lit up the kobolds with a stone of light, he had shared the blessings of Darien with them all!  He, Spats, and Rath each charged down into the kobold firing line, with Griz taking a kobold down with a percision shot from his crossbow.Heh.  That Rath sure used an odd battle-cry as he charged.  Something like "Remember to take a prisoner!"  The odd part was each kobold he slew he completely gutted.  It had been a beatiful sight to behold.  Soon all of their foes had fallen.Editor's Note: Rath rolled crits in the first two rounds of combat vs. 3 hp kobolds.  Yeah, right.  There were prisoners.  I think we managed to capture one of their livers.  I forget who gets the credit for the name, but from that point on his name was Rusty McCrit-Nuts. <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f61b.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":p" title="Stick out tongue    :p"  data-smilie="7"data-shortname=":p" />   It was then things began to go bad again.  Arron started screaming something about vicious bugs in the moors.  Was he insane?  Of course there were bugs in the moors! He spoke of something Spats guessed to be a Moorge, but if there had been one why had it run away?  Neith Arron nor Griz looked like they had been hit by a Moorge.  Surely they had been delusional.The conversation turned ugly and the Arron and Griz left heading back to the river leaving Spats, Rath, and himself .  Spats and he had inspected the kobolds and found pieces of their fallen comrades upon the kobolds items, with one of the kobolds wearing a belt of beards.  But no sign of Stonebeard or his precious items.  These monsters would pay for such a disgrace!  The dwarven remains were collected for burial in a better local.  The three-some found a new hill to pass the rest of the night on, but with Rath's human eyes they could not go far.  It did not matter much for with Spats on guard there was no rest to be found yet again. Moor Hounds had found their trail.  Though each of them fell prey to the gastly sound of the Hounds howls, Raskilnov recalled that it was only after all of his comrads had feld that he too succumbed the fear.  In the end they were not badly seperated and each managed to take out two of the hounds hunting them.  But it had been a close call.  Too close.Yes, they would need to go back and convince Griz and Arron to go on with them.  Without them the effort would be doomed.  Raskilnov moved over to where his brother was on watch only to find out he was scribbing in his journal again.  "What's this!  No wonder we are attacked ever time you are on watch!  You are such a momma's dwarf!"</blockquote>

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