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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4179896" data-attributes="member: 16069">Castle Whiterock- Therg’s nog Gog bug Korg.Turn 7.Five hours later, Twiglet’s back on his feet, although much subdued, for now, they’re on the outskirts of Castle Whiterock, which seems to be a solid wall of rock- probably a hundred feet height, perched atop it a single spire.“There’s a cave there”, Gungarak points to the base of the cliff, to the east of where they stand in the last shadow of the woods.“You seem to know a lot about this place?” Gina states.Ronnie looks round to stare at the Half-Orc, awaiting his answer.“Here before.”“When?” The Paladin asks.“Yesterday.”“What for?” The Paladin takes over the interrogation.Grungarak stares back, “So I’d know the way.”“That’s clever.” Gina attempts to diffuse the moment, “isn’t it Twiglet?”“Mmm.” The Dwarf nods, then shivers, remembering the fallen bandits shattered leg- there was a lot of blood.“I don’t like this.” The Paladin of Kord states.“We watch a while, see if anybody comes out, if not we enter.” Grungarak strides away, finds a tree to lean against and hunkers down.The Paladin watches him go, “I said I don’t like this. Keep an eye on him.” The last warning is aimed at Gina, who gulps and turns to stare at Half-Orc.“What are you called?” Twiglet stirs and finds her voice, “your name?”Grungarak looks up at the Dwarf, “Grungarak.”“Then thank you, Grungarak, thank you.”The Half-Orc nods, settles down, and shuts his eyes.“I don’t like it one bit.” Ronnie whispers.The cave is damp, fat droplets drip, there was once a road here, through the mountain- its surface ruined now- cave mosses, lichen, fungi and pools of water have cracked and crumbled the stone.“Bad job”, Twiglet mutters kicking at a pile of rubble, “bad job.”“Shhhh.” The Half-Orc’s voice a hiss.Ronnie looks stern, Twiglet mouths ‘sorry’, they head further in.Grungarak, stops- signals for them to approach.“A wagon.” The Half-Orc points at the echo of a carts wheel caught in a thin layer of horse dung on the stone.“Monks?” Gina whispers back.Grungarak shrugs, and moves off.A minute or so later and the way ahead is curtailed by a huge wooden door, the ancient timbers show the signs of struggle, and latterly of repair.“I’ll do the talking.” Grungarak whispers back, then counts his audience, one-two, where’s the Gnome?KNOCK-KNOCK“There’s a knocker.” Gina whispers back, although the whispering seems superfluous now.Ronnie blinks hard, did she… Even the Half-Orc looks crestfallen.SHHHDUDA wooden hatch slides open in the door, it’s about half-way up, but the doors are huge, possibly ten feet tall.“Who’s there?” A weasely voice.“Kord guides our hand stranger, open this door or I will be forced to smash it down, you are being tithed.” Ronnie has one hand on the symbol of Kord that hangs around his neck, the other on the hilt of his sword.“Shut up.” Grungarak coarsely whispers.“Silence Orc. We are here in the name of Kord to collect your taxes, now open this…” Ronnie suddenly flies hard right- WHUMP- and into the cavern wall, his nose bleeds a little.Grungarak stands there, fist still clenched, “don’t ever call me- ORC”, he hisses.The Paladin is lightning fast for a man his size, head down he catches Grungarak in the belly, continues his charge and thumps the Half-Orc into the opposite cavern wall.OOOFAll the air goes out of the Ranger.CRONKRonnie leans his head right back and then forward, as fast as it can go, and into the now bloody face of Grungarak.The Half-Orc sees his chance and wraps his meaty arm around the Paladin’s neck, and lifts, for a second Ronnie kicks air, then he topples- face first into the rough stone floor.“Er…”, Gina looks away from the fracas, back up to the weasely face behind the weasely voice, which is pressed against the hatch in the door. Gina shrugs.“We’d like to come in.” Twiglet offers.Gina nods, perhaps that will suffice.“We are monks of the Dawning Sun Ord…” The weasely man at the window suddenly disappears from sight, there’s a noise from beyond the door, a sudden whispered conversation- someone is insisting on something.Gina presses herself against the door, listens hard- “a door just opened, someone’s on the move”, she whispers back at Twiglet, who nods.Behind the Gnome and the Dwarf the fight is resolving itself.“Dew knot kawl me anOrc? Efer.” Grungarak offers through bloodied lips.“Org, Hugman, Whagever? Gust keeg agay grom mig.” Ronnie responds, his nose at an odd angle.The weasely face is back at the door. “We are the monks of the Morning… or Dawning Sun Order, we are seeking artefacts and lore from the ancient monetary, sorry monastery, that dweleth without, sorry, dweleth within in.” The face disappears again, there’s more muffled conversation, only this time it’s louder, “I can’t read this, its all smudged, have you used it… Oh you haven’t, urghhh, urghhh, urghhh- you’re dirty.”Gina and Twiglet giggle.Weasely’s back, “Who are you?”“We’re here to…” Gina begins.“For…” Twiglet starts up.“Give us a minute.” Gina turns his back on the weasely man, Twiglet hums a happy tune, smiles now and then at the man, shrugs a bit too.“Get up, the pair of you. Ought to be ashamed of yourselves.” Gina hisses at the Ranger and Paladin, “we need to get in, any ideas?”Grungarak looks at Ronnie, Ronnie looks at Grungarak.It seems they’ve just agreed on something, which is a first.“Fog KorG.”The pair run head-long at the door, the weasely man takes it all in, “hey, what you…”SMASHThe door holds.The pair stare at each other again.Weasely appears back at the hatch, “not a chance you pri…”They go again, this time Twiglet adds his weight to the cause.“FOG KOOOOOOOOOOOOORG.”SMASHThe door crunches and folds in upon itself, the weasely man dodges back just in time.The chamber is bare, the remains of an ancient gatehouse, there are murder holes in the ceiling above where the three warriors stand, on the far side of the chamber, some twenty or more feet away stands another pair of wooden doors, a second line of defence, one of them is ajar.Standing in the chamber are two figures, both wearing dull brown robes, both humans and both wielding quarterstaffs with a degree of skill, one is weasely looking, the other is simple enormous.“I am Brother Jason.” The weasely man states.“And I am Brother Lee Love.” The huge man states and slaps one end of his stave into the flat of his hand.“Prepare to meet your marker.” Brother Jason snarls.“He means maker, fools.” Brother Lee Love corrects.And this is it…The battle for Castle Whiterock has begun, heroes are set to be forged, terror and fear stared down, friends lost and foes bested, it all starts now…“Therg’s nog Gog bug Korg.” Ronnie mumbles with the help of his broken nose.“Garl help us.” Gina mumbles.</blockquote>

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