The Scattered Ones

[Morbidity]

You each independently arrive at a Dwarven stronghold named ‘IronForge’. Ironforge is a medium sized dwarven city and is located about 25 miles west of Irongate a major Dwarven city. After entering the stronghold a minor dwarven official named Hoignar greets you. He seems to have been waiting for you or someone similar to come along and requests you to accompany him. The shut gate behind you and the number of dwarven guards standing around discourage you from doing anything else. He ushers each of you into a waiting room, departing immediately after informing you that Bolnor will be along to speak to you shortly. A few of you hear him muttering that time is running out and regardless of the number of adventurers found, they’ll have to be sent to get help within the hour.

You notice that Hoignar has a scarf across his mouth and nose and goes to great lengths not just to avoid touching you but also to avoid coming anywhere near you.

 

[dorin]

From the perspective of the rest of the group I am a human, 6' tall, moderate build, with short black hair and brown eyes. I am dressed in a dark brown robe which covers most of my body. There is the occasional glimpse of studded leather armour from under the robe, and two sword hilts protrude from the back of the robe and extend to behind my neck.

I look suspiciously around the room, especially at the other characters present and what weapons (and obvious valuables) they are carrying. I survey the room for all available exits and have my hands ready for action if the need arises. I am not in the habit of introducing myself to strangers.

I am also concerned (although I do not display the fact) about the possible contagion being shed from Hoignar's bodily fluids. Are there any obvious signs of disease? I breath very shallowly.

 

[Malin Genie]

The small creature wandering after the dwarven guide could quite easily be mistaken for a beach ball; except of course that beach balls have no place in mediaeval fantasy, and for the unnatural grey growth on the top that proves upon closer inspection to contain a head in a great mass of hair, eyebrow and beard.

Certainly the lurid but carefully interlocking stripes in colours running the gamut from chartreuse to puce and back again, embroidered over a tunic which in turn sheathes a form remarkably close to spherical do nothing to harm the analogy.

An expert in Gaag-Oebb Planar Evocation Theory would recognise the pattern of the stripes as a visuospatial representation of the sub-Ysgard Ether Root Conduit System. Well, actually he wouldn't - as is well known, reading the Velour Tome of Gaag-Oebb leads to irreversible insanity. Not that insanity would necessarily prove a poor alternative to having to look at the hideously clashing stripes while sane....

The head swivels around with interest as the group passes through the stronghold, and occasional mutters are issued forth to be lost in the massive beard. Or possibly eyebrows. It's very difficult to tell.

 

[Amaryllis]

In waiting room

A young halfling enters. She has attractive features and a charming smile. Her attire is simple; she wears no armor but only a simple travelling outfit adorned by a simple cloak. The human notices no weapons, but she is carrying a pouch at her side as well as a neat looking backpack.

She looks around at the other people in the room, as if wondering who might be a suitable candidate for conversation. The small creature with the stripy outfit interests her, and she tries not to stare but smiles, briefly, in his direction.

 

[Hollowtree]

The door opens.

Hoignar ushers in a young man dressed in brown-black breeches and shirt. His brown cloak is begrimed with the dust of many miles of travel, as is his unruly mop of hair.

The backpack he is wearing bulges with a variety of mysterious items. A grappling hook and an iron pot dangle from straps. It is obviously heavy, or he has travelled far without rest. Gingerly, he
removes his burden, and sets it on the floor.

Hoignar nods briefly, adjusts his facemask and leaves.

The young man mutters under his breath:
"Ah. This must be the famous dwarven hospitality the bards sing of when they are tired of life."

Looking around the room, he observes his new companions, smiles and says:-

"Hello there. I am Tomas Cyrodil. We should use this time to introduce ourselves. It looks like our dwarven friends need our help - perhaps before we catch whatever it is they are so afraid of."

Tomas goes to his pack, and removes a small package.

"I think it is time for something to eat. Would anyone like some cheese? I am afraid that I have no wine, just some water."

With that, he draws a fine dagger from his belt and begins slicing a small block of cheese.

"This is the best part of these trail rations. I think the salted meat
is probably scraped off of old trogs, sometimes."

 

[Morbidity]

A gruff dwarven soldier enters. The good quality material of his clothing and elaborately plaited beard suggest he’s someone of importance. At the moment however he looks somewhat wrinkled and very weary. Like Hoignar, he has a scarf covering his mouth and nose and stands as far away from you as he can get.

“4 of you. Hmmmph. Oh well it will have to do. No for the love of Moradin, don’t come any closer! I’m Bolnor, captain of the guard in IronForge. As you might have gathered … if any of you have any intelligence …”

At this point he gazes dubiously around, stopping with a dazed sort of wonder at the beach ball with legs.

“ … anyway we have a nasty contagious disease going through the city. We thought we’d stopped it but it’s come back and basically we’ve run out of medicine. The alchemist Durzh lives in a tower a few miles from here. He refuses to live in IronForge, says we make too much damn noise with our incessant clanging. Just what I need eccentric dwarves! All I want you to do is go, give him the message that we need more medicine and bring the medicine back. Dead easy, even you stupid adventurers should be able to manage it. I’d go myself or send a guard but I don’t want to risk spreading this disease. We’ve kept you isolated and both Hoignar and I are well, so you are in no danger of having caught the plague.”

“As you can appreciate we’re running short of time. My people are dying. I will give you 500gp each if you push yourself to the limits to do this as quickly as possible.”

“Well are you willing to do it?”

Bolnor looks expectantly around.

 

[Malin Genie]

Although precise localisation of the point within the mass of facial hair (of various descriptions) from which it is issuing is difficult, a voice with a strong gnomish accent nevertheless emerges:

Gladtoarebeingofassisstancemynameisnamfoodlequolembarhalfreudelplyckzyf (Brief pause during which a quantity of air is rapidly sucked in then expelled with a ofcoursenotgnomescaniscallingme"whatsit")

Iarebeingofcoursealsomasterofmanyknowledgesinnameofgreatgodboccobbutofcoursethisisbeobvious.

Which, it turns out, is - from the plate-sized holy symbol of Boccob hanging from his neck. Namfoodle then turns to the astonished Bolnor and asks

Taskambeingnaturallyverydangerousandclaimedlifeofmanyothersbeforenowissotoofferinglargeamountofgoldfortask?

 

[dorin]

The tall human with the bad attitude relaxes ever so slightly, and some in the room could swear they saw his lips curl … almost a smile.

Ignoring the little fur ball, mostly because he had not a clue what had just been muttered, he interjects:

“500 gp!! That is hardly worth our time. Being exposed to this “plague” constitutes a great personal risk. Surely you can do better than that?”

[OOC: Bluff check 10 (11 -1 Chr mod)].

 

[Amaryllis]

The halfling looks towards Bolnor and smiles charmingly at him. If no-one interrupts, this is what she says:

"You have certainly gathered a diverse and...interesting...group for this task. I agree with 'whatsit' that it all sounds too easy. I think it is only fair that you give us some more information before we consider your request. First, if you let me know a little bit about the disease, I have some general knowledge of alchemy that might be of use. Such knowledge might also help us protect ourselves in the event that one of us becomes infected. From what you have said this is unlikely, but without an understanding as to how the contagion spreads, we might not know what to avoid. Second, we will need a map of the area so that we can find this alchemist you speak of. It would be especially useful [smile] if this map could include the whereabouts of any known dangers. Third, it would be useful to know a little bit more about him other than the fact that he is "eccentric". What will he demand in exchange for the medicine? Fourth, and I know you didn't mean anything by it, it cannot help with some of these others [looking at the human who had just spoke] that you insult us. Now I, personally, am not offended, I have been called worse with far greater accuracy in the past, but sometimes these humans can be a little [whispering this last word so that the human cannot hear] sensitive. Finally, and I have lost track of numbers [smile], the human at least seems to expect a higher payment. With your current offer, you risk splitting the group. Personally, I am not one to quibble about these things, but the smaller the group, the worse our chances."

[Speak silently check for word "sensitive" = 7]
[Diplomacy roll = 14; Adjusted = 22].
[Bluff check that I am not interested in money = 6; Adjusted = 14]
[Perform sense motive check - DM to roll]

 

[Morbidity]

Bolnor is still trying to puzzle out what the beachball with legs said when Dorin and Amaryllis voice their comments. If possible the comments make Bolnor look more tired.

‘Danger? There’s no danger involved. What is it with you adventurers? Not everything has to be fighting dragons and killing orcs you know. All I need you to do is go to Durzh, give him the message that the contagion has returned. He will give you the medicine and you will bring it back here. The 500gp I’ll be paying you are for you to exhaust yourselves to get there and back as quickly as possible, not because there’s any danger involved. As such 500gp is way more than sufficient … I’ve set the amount this high purely to give you an incentive to return speedily. The greatest danger you’re in is likely to be standing in this room talking to me.”

“Now young miss, I can certainly give you a map to Durzh’s tower.”

Bolnor puts a rolled piece of parchment on the floor and rolls it to the other side of the room. The piece of parchment clearly shows the route from IronForge to Durzh’s Tower, which appears to be about half a day’s journey to the west. The tower is built near the top of a waterfall.

“As for dangers on the way, there are no known dangers. The route is as safe as any in Onnwal these days. As I’ve said before all you need to do is go to Durzh, give him this message from me.” Bolnor rolls another piece of parchment across the room. “The message just tells Durzh that we need medicine. Durzh will give you the medicine and you are to bring it back here. Time is the crucial factor here, my people are dying.”

As Bolnor says the last sentence, you see a crack in his tired Dwarven stoicness. Bolnor is very distressed. Amaryllis with her keen senses, thinks that he is absolutely sincere.

“Durzh himself? Yes, he’s a real loner, claims that he needs peace and quiet. What respectable dwarf needs peace and quiet I ask you? Anyway he’s got an independent stronghold in which he can practice his alchemy. As we greatly value his work, we made sure it was defensible and self-sufficient, so we don’t have to keep sending dwarves back and forth and wasting time. There are about 10 dwarves who live there with him. They help look after some water-powered machinery which Durzh needs for to practice his alchemy. Now I’ll let you know. These dwarves may be a little paranoid or defensive at first, so you may initially get a bit of a rude welcome. But if you just let them know that Bolnor from IronForge sent you and give them my message, you’ll be fine.”