OoC: Info sent rangerjohn. All, my email is
bluehead69@yahoo.com. Send in those newly levelled characters, please.
And, to get this ball rolling again...
IG
Scouting out the boats, Grolvus and Vorath ascertain that they are indeed sound. Loading up, you all quickly head downriver, Arngen and Grolvus each piloting one boat.
Wesellu mutters to himself while constantly checking one of his books(taken from a backpack that holds half a library it would seem).
The trip downriver is a fast one, with the Bugbear and Drow Rogue calling for alertness and agile hands at many a point, as rocks loom near and the steel-enforced pars and poles are needed more than once to avoid disaster.
Time seems to hang still as each member of this band of misfits thinks back over the last few days...the prison break, the betrayel leading to that state, the encounter with the Mage in the tunnels...the name Vestegene...
Miles drift by with little talk, other than the cheery humming of Urftuk (who occassionally shoots his tongue out to catch an insect flying too close).
Finally, the rushing of the water slows, then subsides, leaving an almost unnatural calm upon the river. Pushing out of the tunnel mouth, the band is beset by a startling and frightful sight. In a cavern nearly a mile around sits a fabulous and bizarre City.
Hagrall
Hagrall sits in a cavern half filled with water, a combination of stone towers rising up from the water, several burgs lining the shores of this mini-lake and, most strangely, several massive stalactites hollowed out as wierd upside-down towers. At several points, the hanging towers nearly touch the water, and indeed, there are moorings in a half-dozen locations, with docks and boats bobbing in the water. Noises of all sorts can be heard, the bray of pack lizards upon barges, the *swoosh* of low flying bats (and possibly other
things), the calls of voices raised in a dozen tongues.
Rowing closer, the boats come alongside the nearest of the floating quays (and fairly near one of the Tower-islands), causing a gang of orc loaders to pause, taking in your band. A bugbear taskmaster snaps a whip across the back of one orc, yelling
'back to work, you basterdz! If we don't get these supplies loaded by in an hour, we kin kiss our bonus as good as gone!'
The orcs snarl a bit and resume hefting their bundles skyward, where many chains ending in tackle hooks await, each quickly snapping onto a bailing ring on the bundle. Wesellu mutters a bit, pointing out the minor magicks utilized in the animate chains for anyone who cares to listen, but most eyes are instead drawn to the figure emerging from the nearby Tower-Island.
A shrouded person ( a billowing cloak keeping their identity elusive) emerges from a door set some 30 feet up on the Tower. Spreading their arms, they quickly
Shift, becoming a bat-winged thing of indeterminate form, flapping off into the everdarkening gloom of the cavern, heading towards the City's center.
Vorath's memories become a bit clearer, fuzziness giving way to remembrance. There was a place...a good first stop. the...the...the
Witchfire Inn...it should be just a bit further in, on the left bank. From here, the slight glow of the place, yellows and reds interplaying with purples, can be seen, lighting the way...