The Throne Room of King Drunil

[Enoch]

Adventurers may seek audience here with King Drunil Son of Funil; Jarkur's Heir; King of the Dwarven Lands in the North.

Audiences with the King must be arranged a day in advance. The audience advances the clock a full day.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Dressed in her platemail and seconded by her Sgt-at-arm and cohort, she walks to the Senechals office and presents her scroll of introduction and Sir Ludwig, envoy of Duke Gaul.

"Please inform Drunil, King of the Blackhelm clan that Sir Ludwig waits to be received."

[Enoch]

The seneschal spends what seems to be an inordinately long time inspecting the scroll, looking between it and Sir Ludwig (with the odd, suspicious glance at Foxy). He pulls another scroll from a cubby along one wall, unrolls it a ways, and inspects it, comparing its contents to those on the scroll of introduction. Finally he seems satisfied; he rolls up the scroll he retrieved and returns it to its place before rolling up the scroll of introduction as well and tucking it under one arm. He straightens his collar of office (a chain of links, backed with black velvet, with an ornate key hanging down on his chest) and speaks for the first time.

"Please, follow me." He leads the way down the ramp to the king's audience chamber and speaks briefly with one of the guards, who pounds on the door three times before opening it. The seneschal steps into the doorway and speaks: "King Drunil, I present Sir Ludwig, envoy from Gaul, and...Miss Foxy O'Hare." The pause is barely noticeable, nor is the slight chill in his voice, as he returns the scroll of introduction to Sir Ludwig.

The seneschal steps aside. The throne room is much as you remember it, albeit in much better repair than the last time you visited. The balconies on either side have been repaired, and are now filled with various hangers-on and curious onlookers. Numerous functionaries and dignitaries mill about the large hall, illuminated by the braziers. At the far end, King Drunil sits on the same stone throne once occupied by the Goblin-King, flanked by two armored dwarves at the foot of the stairs, their hands resting on the pommels of battle-axes held head-down in front of them. The king speaks.

"Let them approach."

[Stirling]

Fochelle de Coulthard

Bows formally as she enters the throne room, she looks up at the balcony area and remembers the drumming of Shortbread on the kettle drums to announce her last entrance here. No trumpet fanfare or heraldry this time. "Your Honour, Drunil, King of the Blackhelms, I am hear to present Sir Ludwig, envoy of Duke Gaul" she waves in a flicked gesture to the envoy, braided in apparel and chains of office. She waits as he greets the king and the formal pleasantries are done. She shuffles her feet bored, no wine in this place, only bitter ales. The envoy wipes his waxed moustache and shakes a few hands. He has prepared quarters here and once formalities are over he bows to the king and marches out behind the seneschal dismissing Foxy with a flap of his hand. In the quiet as she stands there she unexpectedly takes a step forward rather than turn around and speaks to the dwarf king,

"Your Honour. May I congratulate you on your ascension to this place, you suit the throne much more than the goblin who bestrode it before. You are acquainted with my endeavours to rid the realm of the goblin threat and the peace that you enjoy as a result. Not without cost to myself, I carry the sword wielded by the dread imp and the scars on my body as I bled dry in the hallway yonder. You know the goblin king called forth the dead dwarves, your ancestors buried in these crypts, to command and wage havoc, Your ancestors marching to the tune not of the iron kettle drums but the sewer pipes of the goblins. All due in part for the support and aid given to them by the Mages of Monoc which reside in the ruins over the mountains. Those mages still lair contentedly and plan further demonic stresses upon mankind. Girls to sacrifice, raising the dead, building demon altars to worship at. I call upon you, Drunil as heir to Jarkul's throne, to support my quest to besiege their ruins and drive them from this land."

[Enoch]

Determine disposition. They are Unfriendly to Foxy, personally. That's the whole Blackhelm clan which includes King Drunil.

We take 2d6 at Friendly and add 1D for each disposition level. (Friendly, Neutral, Dubious, Unfriendly, Hostile). So that's 5d6.

Consider a +4 to -4 based on the situational factors. Since it is a "poor maybe" we allow the roll but with a +3 penalty.

Foxy needs to roll a 9 or below (her Charisma) to convince the King to send aid. Do an "on the fly" roll in the Die Roller for [5d6+3] and copy the code to post it in your response. If the result is 9 or below, then we'll figure what NPC help is provided. Otherwise, color the "no" appropriately.

After discussion with Marullus, I've lowered it to Dubious/Uncertain. He's not happy about the death of so many dwarves (though he knows that Foxy isn't responsible for those who died fighting the dragon), and Foxy has certainly not endeared herself to the hold with some failed CHA rolls, but the dwarves who died assaulting the goblins did so of their own accord.

Reaction: [4d6+3] = 9+3 = 12

That's still a "no".

"Be welcome--" King Drunil pauses for a moment, looking over to his seneschal as if for confirmation. He appears to have received it, as he sits up a little straighter and speaks in a slightly more confident tone. "Envoy from Gaul." His refusal to acknowledge the title is evident from his tone.

Once the formalities are over, he turns back to Foxy.

"I recognize the peace that my realm currently possesses, which many dwarves died to obtain. I recognize also that you did this to enrich yourself, and many dwarves died as a result. Yes, you have enriched yourself; as you say, you carry an enchanted blade taken from within our halls. The wrongs done us by the goblins do not excuse your actions."

He slumps down in his throne, a petulant, defiant gleam in his eyes. "Virgin sacrifices and demon-worship are not my concern. Bring me proof that these mages are responsible for the horrors inflicted on my kinsmen, and we will discuss what aid I can provide."

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

,"My actions? Certainly you point to known facts that echo as whispers in these tunnels. How I was first to the rallying call after your ancestors rose up as living dead under the Hand of Zhint to pillage and lay waste to the merchant caravans at Idmi.

Your peace here brought by the blood of C'ang the Grate, a prisoner forsaken by his kin for centuries, left abandoned in these catacombs until I freed him. The death of Thundred Blackhelm, who swore fealty to me after I bested him and his warriors in mortal combat. Such sweet sorrow. He chose a warriors death over the shame of his actions, I do believe the dragon remarked "How loamy and sweet", his blood tasted after his roasting in the fire. Their sacrifice haunts me still. I sojourned here also to locate my golden shield. It was left upon the battlefield and after recovered to these halls. You know it's mine for I imprinted my palm prints upon it. I would not seek to enrich myself claiming it's ownership or return, for I know of no greater tribute I can offer than to see it hung in the Everlasting Abbey as a memorial to all the Fallen." She bites her tongue after being rebuffed and tries to choose her words carefully between what she says and what she wants to say.

"I will scout for these ruins and sorcerers. The kng requires proof of their infernal intentions. Proof then he shall have. If my quest is righteous then the gods will bless with all I need.

As these goblins and rogues have touched Gaul as well as Verdun, it would add to the king's reputation with the Duke for Sir Ludwig to report your token assistance in this endeavour. A warrior of experience and a novice to squire for him should suffice."

this is a bid for Drunil to grant Neegan and Gundri to explore with Foxy on his behalf.

With that she formally bows and if no further conversation is necessary, returns to the tavern.

[Enoch]

King Drunil snorts dismissively. "So you say. Yet deeds are stone, and words are leaves that shrivel up and die. You speak of being the first to rally against my dead kinsmen, yet we issued no cry. The Horn was heard, certainly; yet you have never claimed to have blown it.

"And you claim that Thundred Blackhelm swore fealty to you, when his sworn duty was to his own people? We doubt that. And if you would speak of his shame, bring proof of your words, or leave them and yourself outside of our halls. Mayhap you bested him in combat. He was a fell warrior, but whatever your boasts may be we agree you have survived many perilous situations, though we know not how."

He flaps his hand dismissively. "If any here are not otherwise committed to the hold or to the defense of our realm, they have our leave to accompany you. They know by now the fate of dwarves who stand beside you and your ilk."

You are of course welcome to recruit any PCs for your expedition! IIRC Marullus nixed the whole "handprints in gold" thing in the original thread--for reference, the melting point of gold is nearly 2000 F, and even assuming it cooled to where it was barely malleable without tools it would still leave anyone touching it with a charred stump.

[Stirling]

Foxy takes her time, dipping her shield in the solidifying flows of metal, finding enough to coat it thoroughly before retreating to the others.

(see page 30 of the completed expedition, Foxy: Bounty on the Goblin HQ. shield was coated in the cooled gold and valued at 200gp. Left on the field by the palisade after Scatha attack. The golden shield was used as a prop in further narrations.

Foxy O'Hare

Jarkul's Horn has been returned to the Blackhlem clan, you can attest it. Neither my hand fondled nor lips blew any of Jarkul's horns. No dwarf raised a rallying cry that was true, they hid behind apron strings wailing woe and despair as the bones of their ancestors pillaged among them. When the horn was sounded at the raging of the Wargs, I slew the wolverines and only then did the dwarfs turn up late for battle but dressed for conflict. They came to help they said, but they only came to help themselves. Claiming rights on dwarven relics and to frisk through ladies personals. Then be on their merry way! Where were the dwarves when Scatha lived and goblins stalked these halls? Safe in your mountain wastes leagues away, drinking and whoring as the bugle sounded Reveille. I heard the call and I answered. And now after battle is done, elves and men restoring your fortunes, you march over mountains to claim your lost heritage once more, 150 dwarves of Jarkuls' line. Without so much as a thank you. Minting Drunil's head on your silver pieces, brewing your ales and forging chain, all for you to sit on the tin pot throne and write your place in Jarkul's proud history. Scatha spoke the truest legend that fail to shrivel and die, "Jarkul's kin were particularly delicious. Sour beer seasoned with self-righteousness". Dwarves who venture with me script their place in history and song, Drunil's dirge a requiem of history not of future glory."

Rebuked she banters back and walks out to the tavern.

[Enoch]

Foxy takes her time, dipping her shield in the solidifying flows of metal, finding enough to coat it thoroughly before retreating to the others.

(see page 30 of the completed expedition, Foxy: Bounty on the Goblin HQ. shield was coated in the cooled gold and valued at 200gp. Left on the field by the palisade after Scatha attack. The golden shield was used as a prop in further narrations.

Yep, got that. I know the golden shield exists. It just doesn't have anybody's handprints in it.

[Marullus]

Foxy's deep insults to the King, on his throne, in his throne room, do allow her the "last word" before she departs, but making clear that she begins any future interactions at "Unfriendly" rather than Dubious. This is a clear drop in relationship.

[Stirling]

Foxy

I know. I tried, I really did but I think I modelled Foxy on the missus and she don't know how either.

[Enoch]

Yeah, given what I've seen of Foxy I don't see how this could have gone any other way!

[Spearmint]

Red Eric

Present in the hall as the newly minted coins bearing King Drunil's head are officially received and inspected. The stout dwarf has laboured in the mines, following veins of silver ore and shipping rocks to the smelting forges before they are pressed and assessed. It has been hard labour for three months and despite the general industry and endeavour to rebuild their former hold, Red Eric doesn't have the same fervour as some of his colleagues.

"I'll be damned if some tavern strumpet can come lauding it in these ancestral halls, casting accusations and disparity upon my fathers kin. She speaks of his war horn and mocks his manhood in the same breath. She points to our redemption and gives glory to the elves for it. That she stood before dragons and lived while our kin folk merely parched their burning throats is a wonder these mountain roots cannot fathom. It vexes me that her words contain truths hurled at us to mock and belittle. She is a succubus, a temptress fiend raised to provoke our wrath and ire. She bled in these halls once, she can bleed again. Then let us see if she contains blood brewed as stout and bitter as the ales we drink or will she spurt more 'red whine'."

The miner is clearly irked by Foxy's blagged and woven half-truths. His stint in the mines up, he decides to approach the King with a request.

"Your honour, my King. Our war-picks mine and the war-hammers smith. We prosper here, yet still are beset by threats outside and mocked within. For too long have our axes and shields laid quiet. If it pleases the King, I would raise a banner to 'Call to Arms' skilled warriors, and aye, rogues, wizards and wilderness rangers alike, to help rid our lands of all the scourges that plague us, goblins, wargs and foxes."

[Enoch]

King Drunil drums the fingers of his right hand on the arm of his throne, his head resting in the palm of his left. His brow is furrowed, and his frown is mighty.

Finally he sighs.

"Bah! Treacherous woman, to scold me with falsehoods in mine own hall! A call to arms, you say? Yes...yes, that is a good idea. A call to arms."

He seems to ponder this a moment, his countenance brightening by degrees.

"A call to arms! Just the thing. This land is wild still, surface and under-deep alike, and it is my will that it be bent to serve our good."

[Dram]

Neegan- Prior to setting out with Foxy. Neegan enters the entry way of the Throne room. Approaches one of the guards. I wish to speak to the King.

[Enoch]

The guard wordlessly opens one of the heavy doors and admits Neegan. After the herald announces him, King Drunil turns his attention to his fellow dwarf, and nods politely.

"Neegan Battleworx. What business brings you before me?"

[Zhym]

An elf—angular of face, stout (for an elf) of build, and reddish-black of hair—makes his way to the throne room of King Drunil. Newly arrived from the Southlands, his journey was not without some trepidation. He understands many things, but not why any creature would choose to live underground, away from the light of sun and star, deep below branch and leaf. That he was sent as an "emissary" to the rock-dwellers—well, it was phrased as an honor. He knows better. In truth, it was merely a convenient excuse to send him away.

He hands the seneschal a letter of introduction, naming him Orodhaer Echelebion of the Lothuial ("twilight blossom") elves of the Midnight Forests, and awaits his turn before the young king.

[Faanku]

Arriving shortly after the elf, Thea makes her introductions to the court's steward, offering an apology for seeking audience with royalty whilst wearing such grimy, battle-worn attire. She explains that she serves as one of Freydis' Valkyries, and that the Guardian Mother has guided her to this kingdom that she might thin the numbers of the dark horde that threatens the innocent. She has no formal identification, though the conviction on her mangled face brooks no reason to doubt the validity of her words. After her introduction, she joins Orodhaer in patiently awaiting the king's attentions.

[Dram]

Neegan- Bows and kneels before the king. He stays kneeled as he feels from the Foxy spoke to to him that her meet with the king did not go well. Your majesty. I come on Behalf of Miss Foxy O'hare. I have just returned from the Expedition of the Orb Quest to the Spire in which our ancestors created. The dead are rising in strength. I have fought our own kinsmen that should be at eternal piece in the great forges of Chronias.

As i have just met the lady O'hare. I heard she can be brash and forceful in her opinions. But I believe we need to investigate these sorcerers to see if they are the reason for rising of the undead.

Your majesty I am here requesting your support in this task.

[Karaunios]

A tall blond man, sickly looking, pale, blond with short hair, wearing purple robes and carrying a big tome under his left hand enters the throne room, stops in front of the king with some regal mannerism, slightly bows and says: "At your service, Your Majesty. My name is Xathor, apprentice of the arcane arts." He then walks next to the others and says nothing else.