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Message: <blockquote data-quote="htetickrt" data-source="post: 1382672" data-attributes="member: 16534">A Quest Offered Vision blurry from the transport resolves into a larger-than-usual hamlet roughly a half-mile away, ringed by solid, if damaged, stone walls.  A glance reveals only a smattering of farms near the town, due to its proximity to the mountains on three sides, likely indicating a reliance on mining by its residents.  The orc captain points out the town with stubby fingers.  "There Dagger Falls.  Many people, strong.  Dig in rock like dwarves; make stuff too.  We sell gems we find for stuff to fight Zhents in North.  That before men think we raid.  Now no more sell, can't get new stuff.  No one else like us.  We go in, you tell them we no raid.  We show drow head.  Then we buy stuff again."Trella nods, lost in thought.  Lenara, her dwarven nature awakened, gasps at the mention of a forge and briefly breaks into a run toward the town before remembering that this might confuse Khail.  The beautiful wizard slows her gait slightly, but has difficulty reining in her excitement.Quid moves to the fore, her mercantile nature overcoming any distaste of the orcs.  "I was not aware that the citizens of Daggerdale had managed to recover any measure of prosperity since reclaiming their lands from the Zhents.  Is Randall Morn still in command?"The orc leader puffs out his chest, proudly answering, "He in charge, but we help lots.  With no orcs, Zhents come down, crush little town.  We grow fast in mountains, make Zhents split attacks.  They no win.   Years ago I one of orcs who run whole Dale, but we no hold it without Munchkin Queen.  Now we work with men, make good dale."  His face darkening, the leader adds, "That why important we make friends again.  Not all orcs so happy with friends.  If no useful, some want raid again.  Take stuff, smash men.  Not follow plan then, orcs cast out.  Bad, like old days.  Some orcs stupid, not see this."Quid nods sagely before changing the subject.  "How much of an area can those portals take you to?"No dummy despite his speech and appearance, the orc leader answers, "You find out when give us what we want."  He abruptly turns away after this, addressing those in his command in the whispered tongue of orcs.The rest of the trip passes swiftly, and soon the party finds itself in front of a sturdy wooden gate, oddly closed at present despite the early hour.  Once the group is within fifty feet of the walls, a voice booms from the interior of the town.  "We told you not to return, orcs!  We were once friends, but you have shown your true nature!"Several orcs bristle at this, but their leader holds them back.  "We no show nothing.  We come prove you we friends, no raid you.  We find these men in mountains, they good.  You talk them.  They explain all pretty."  The orc nudges Trella forward.  Trella, in turn, nudges Kai forward.  Kai sighs and moves in front of the large group, her hands up in a gesture of peace."My friends," she begins, "these orcs, as strange as it may seem, speak the truth.""Why should we believe you any more than them?" the disembodied voice queries.Kai executes a graceful half-bow, half-curtsey.  "I am Kitailla Imana of Waterdeep, and these are my friends and fellow adventurers Trella, druid of Silvanus, Kyree, elven archer, Khail, paladin of Torm, and Rhien, monk of Ilmater.  We have had a part in bringing Mishakal, mistress of healing, to the Realms*, quested on behalf of Elminster the Mage of Shadowdale**, and slain a pit fiend from deepest Baator at the height of his power***.  We seek audience with Randall Morn."Such is the force of Kai's personality that even those of the guard who do not believe her are awed into silence.  The newer members of the large band fare similarly, for a brief time viewing these five poorly dressed strangers as beings arrived straight out of an epic.  Then the moment passes, and a different voice speaks from inside the walls."Your speech is pretty, young lady, but it carries with it no more reason for belief than the orcs' claims.  In kinder times we would grant you entry, but these are not they, and we must bar the gates even during the daylight."Kai is not finished, however, and motions for the orc leader to come forward.  The sorceress then exclaims, "If you would not believe my words, believe this!"  On her signal, the leader pulls the severed drow head from the sack, holding it before him like an offering."These orcs you spurn have slain the drow raiders, aiding your cause, just as they slew a red dragon in the mountains earlier this day.  Stand with them, or let your enemies conquer you separately!"A long pause follows Kai's concluding remarks, during which time the orcs shuffle their feet nervously.  Eventually the gate does begin to open, however, revealing a man whose noble bearing belies the attire of one more at home in battle than sitting on a gilded throne.  Flanked by twenty well-armed guards, his jet hair whipping behind him in a sudden wind, the hereditary ruler of Daggerdale approaches the party with a smile twitching at the edges of his upturned mouth.After introductions, Randall says, "That was quite a speech, my dear Kitailla.  May I ask how these orcs acquired so eloquent an advocate?"Kai spreads out her arms and opens her palms.  "Chance, nothing more.  We believed their tale, and they aided us in exchange for our conveying of it to you.  May I take your presence as a sign that you too believe it?"Randall Morn can no longer suppress his amusement.  "Aye, I believe it.  I've always found something fairly convincing about a severed head."  He chuckles.  "But are the pretty words around the head all true?"Trella steps forward then, saying with authority, "To the letter."Randall looks impressed.  "Then your presence is most fortuitous for us as well as the orcs."Before explaining his comment, Randall turns to the porcine humanoids, inclining his head slightly to their leader.  "Please accept our apologies, friend orc, for falsely accusing you of the raids on our farms.  The suddenness of the attacks coupled with their viciousness took us by surprise, and we were too quick to blame you for them.  I hope we can put this behind us during these troubled times, and move forward again in friendship."The lead orc snorts, answering, "We like stuff with apology, but we accept words anyway.  Orcs come soon with gems to trade.  You let in, right?"Randall smiles.  "Of course.  And rest assured your orcs will receive fair prices upon their arrival."The orc leader bares his tusks.  "That better.  Me tell orcs this, maybe they lose stupid ideas.  I go now talk to them."Turning from Randall, the orc leader addresses the party.  "I worry about you take our stuff, but you do good with deal.  We never go back on word."  The orc grabs a token from a belt pouch that matches the symbol on his armor.  "Carry this into gate and think of where you want go.  You go then.  Many gates in mountains.  One gate in front of orc castle.  Me Grisnark.  You ask for me if come castle."  Grisnark gives the token to Trella and moves off back the way the party came with his small horde.Randall Morn cuts the parting short, drawing the group's attention back to him.  "I must say, no matter how many times I interact with those orcs I'm surprised.  Years of fighting against slavering packs of them doesn't leave one ready for a civilized relationship."That is neither here nor there, however.  Please, come with me to my seat of power, such as it is.  We have much to discuss."Kai, groaning inwardly that this discussion will somehow lead her not to go home, nevertheless puts on a polite front.  "It would be an honor," she solemnly intones.Morn replies, "Honor is all-too-rarely a consequence of dealings in this place, but I appreciate the sentiment."  The nobleman turns on his heel and leads the party into the town of Dagger Falls.While the sturdy stone that forms the walls of both town and home is pleasing to the eyes of both Lenara and Khail, others in the party find little cheer in suspicious, well-armed townspeople and a hamlet designed more for defense against snow and foe than for beauty.  For the majority, the quick trip through Dagger Falls’ open spaces is quite long enough, and the slightly more comfortable feel of Morn's residence is most welcome.Apparently not one for pleasantries, Randall quickly comes to the point of his invitation.  "In other times I would offer a grand feast for man and orc alike at the ending of hostility, but we are in dire straits and can afford no such luxury.  As you may know, only recently was this dale liberated from Zhentish occupation, and the Keep's foul occupants continue to harry us on a daily basis.  The orcs in the mountains are a substantial aid, but they have many enemies and tend to overestimate their own ability.  In the west an evil power rises, spreading darkness from the Anauroch sand.  Scouts in the Border Forest—those that returned, anyway—have reported seeing shadows of men that appeared decidedly unfriendly."This pair of threats taxes our ability to recover from the occupation.  As such, we were wholly unprepared for what has befallen us recently.  Seven days ago, a band of drow raided several farms and freeholds about 10 miles south of here.  A number of people were killed, and the marauders caused much damage.  Local militia tracked the drow back to the vicinity of an old set of ruins on the western edge of the Dagger Hills.  Rumor has it that those crypts conceal an entrance to the Underdark."Three nights ago the drow raiders returned and caused even more damage.”  Morn’s fist slams against an oak table, causing an inkwell to fall to its side.  “These raids must stop, or the people of Daggerdale will lose all faith in the ability of this government to function.  Every day living here is a constant struggle to beat back evil from multiple sides while scratching out a living from soil blackened by war.  Adding an internal threat to the external will, I fear, sunder the fragile fabric of this society.”Randall’s voice drops lower.  "Worse, these drow are not simple raiders.  They take neither goods nor captives away, instead engaging only in mindless slaughter.  My people are demoralized.”  He pauses, breathing deeply."I cannot compel your aid, nor offer much in recompense.  I can only beseech you to halt these raids so that my people might have a chance to rebuild what they have lost." *Their first adventure, which was a homebrewed, plane-hopping, characters-in-way-over-their-head quest.  The end result of it was to bring Mishakal (from Dragonlance) into the Forgotten Realms as a new lesser Power of healing.  I would have started posting from here, but it was all in 2E and I thought it might not be appropriate for this venue.  Though the core Stepchildren were all there then, having started at 1rst level, they were a much more fractious bunch.  Many of the most egregious alignment differences have since been smoothed out.**Their second adventure, much shorter than the first.  Again they were used by those more powerful than them to accomplish a goal they didn’t understand until after the fact.***Their third, and most recent, adventure.  The only goal in this one was survival.  The players did a great job in meeting it, and in slaying the mighty Razorus.  They really hated him.  Kyree’s player keeps telling me I should post this one, but again, it’s 2E.</blockquote>

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