Lug sighs with relief when Xavro turns the wolfhound into a big friendly puppy, then looks crestfallen when his new friends aren't all instant friends with his centaur friend. He's sad that not everyone can enjoy the peaceful glade as much as he does. But everyone seems to be finding a place they're comfortable, so that's good.
"Xavro, these are my friends I recruited to help rescue my other friends. Can you help us?"
[Continued] - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
May 2, 1 VC - 7:40am
Xavro's look clouds a bit as Lug mentions his rescue mission. "Let us rest for now, and discuss darker business in the morning, when the sun can buoy our spirits against the weight of such talk. I will prepare refreshment for those who desire it."
Xavro departs toward the ruined tower, returning a while later with a large try piled high with sliced fruit and rustic bread, just as before. He makes no move to bring the food to those who have chosen to remain outside the border of the grove, and eventually hunger overtakes that group as well and they break out their rations for the evening meal. Among the mercenaries, Mormoth eyes his hard tack with a bit of resignation and a large amount of disgust and returns it to his pack before laying his weapons on the ground with an apologetic look at Zirina and joining the others in the shade of one of the jarban trees.
The night passes in casual conversation, the centaur sharing impossible-sounding tales of the ancient history of this land: he speaks of his relations with the other sylvan creatures of the land, many of whom have died off or departed; and wistfully of his own people, the centaurs, who occupied a golden plain to the north of the forest but were driven out in a dark period about which he will not provide any details. Most interestingly, he talks of his travels in the west, among what he calls the Pillars of the Gods, a collection of monoliths so old that even among the centaurs, who bear the knowledge of history like a cherished flame, word of their origins was only fragmentary and apocryphal. It was there, among the Pillars, that Xavro first heard the call of the earth, and embarked upon the path that would lead him to become a steward of the land. There are equal parts pride and longing in his voice as he relates all these things--it seems clear that the sacrifices required by his dedication to his duties have been great.
In the morning, Xavro presents another small meal of fruit and aromatic cheeses, and kneels down among the assembled adventurers to speak of their quest. He turns first to Lug. "At our last meeting, we spoke of the orc Gruuk-Darak. Since that time, my friends have seen him at the head of a large band of orcs at several points during both day and night. It seems that he has been tasked with finding something, and even the Accursed Ogre has been keeping a careful distance despite his considerable penchant for violence and his hatred of all things living. Further, the forge-fires at the base of the Great Mountain have been more active in the past several days. I suspect that some foul machination is in process and we will not see a pleasant end to it.
"I have thought hard about the most expeditious route into the orc-hold and the mountain, and this is what I can offer."
Xavro opens the satchel at his side and pulls out a small silver censer on a delicate chain, and a vial made out of shaped bark stopped with beeswax. "This censer, when lit, will cause all creatures touched by its smoke to become placid and peaceful. They will not turn to violence to resolve any conflicts that arise for them, and in fact will feel no touch of conflict unless sorely pressed. I suggest lighting it as you approach the orc-hold, and it will allow you entrance to its depths. Once the smoke's effects wear off, you will be past the initial sentries and in a position where you can press further in rather than striking yourselves against a wall of defenders. It will buy you time, and position, at least, for your efforts.
"I also considered what I said before, about many of the dwarven outposts being closed along their access routes to the mountain proper. If this is the case, you will encounter at least one obstacle of stone and steel. In this vial I have a potent honey that, when spread on a surface of stone or metal, will melt an opening to offer access as though creating a doorway. It should contain enough material to create two such doorways, but I urge you to take care of when you employ it. Not only to be sure of the way forward, but also that you do not use it wrong. My friendship with the dwarves of ages past left me with some knowledge of their home--and within the twisting halls below the mountain lies the Door with Three Locks. These are three doors that all lead into the same chamber, though distant from one another, and in that chamber reside the greatest relics of the Kings of Old, untouched by time. However, to force entry to one of the doors without the proper key is to invite certain doom upon oneself and one's allies. Be thus warned."
Xavro's look clouds a bit as Lug mentions his rescue mission. "Let us rest for now, and discuss darker business in the morning, when the sun can buoy our spirits against the weight of such talk. I will prepare refreshment for those who desire it."
Xavro departs toward the ruined tower, returning a while later with a large try piled high with sliced fruit and rustic bread, just as before. He makes no move to bring the food to those who have chosen to remain outside the border of the grove, and eventually hunger overtakes that group as well and they break out their rations for the evening meal. Among the mercenaries, Mormoth eyes his hard tack with a bit of resignation and a large amount of disgust and returns it to his pack before laying his weapons on the ground with an apologetic look at Zirina and joining the others in the shade of one of the jarban trees.
The night passes in casual conversation, the centaur sharing impossible-sounding tales of the ancient history of this land: he speaks of his relations with the other sylvan creatures of the land, many of whom have died off or departed; and wistfully of his own people, the centaurs, who occupied a golden plain to the north of the forest but were driven out in a dark period about which he will not provide any details. Most interestingly, he talks of his travels in the west, among what he calls the Pillars of the Gods, a collection of monoliths so old that even among the centaurs, who bear the knowledge of history like a cherished flame, word of their origins was only fragmentary and apocryphal. It was there, among the Pillars, that Xavro first heard the call of the earth, and embarked upon the path that would lead him to become a steward of the land. There are equal parts pride and longing in his voice as he relates all these things--it seems clear that the sacrifices required by his dedication to his duties have been great.
In the morning, Xavro presents another small meal of fruit and aromatic cheeses, and kneels down among the assembled adventurers to speak of their quest. He turns first to Lug. "At our last meeting, we spoke of the orc Gruuk-Darak. Since that time, my friends have seen him at the head of a large band of orcs at several points during both day and night. It seems that he has been tasked with finding something, and even the Accursed Ogre has been keeping a careful distance despite his considerable penchant for violence and his hatred of all things living. Further, the forge-fires at the base of the Great Mountain have been more active in the past several days. I suspect that some foul machination is in process and we will not see a pleasant end to it.
"I have thought hard about the most expeditious route into the orc-hold and the mountain, and this is what I can offer."
Xavro opens the satchel at his side and pulls out a small silver censer on a delicate chain, and a vial made out of shaped bark stopped with beeswax. "This censer, when lit, will cause all creatures touched by its smoke to become placid and peaceful. They will not turn to violence to resolve any conflicts that arise for them, and in fact will feel no touch of conflict unless sorely pressed. I suggest lighting it as you approach the orc-hold, and it will allow you entrance to its depths. Once the smoke's effects wear off, you will be past the initial sentries and in a position where you can press further in rather than striking yourselves against a wall of defenders. It will buy you time, and position, at least, for your efforts.
"I also considered what I said before, about many of the dwarven outposts being closed along their access routes to the mountain proper. If this is the case, you will encounter at least one obstacle of stone and steel. In this vial I have a potent honey that, when spread on a surface of stone or metal, will melt an opening to offer access as though creating a doorway. It should contain enough material to create two such doorways, but I urge you to take care of when you employ it. Not only to be sure of the way forward, but also that you do not use it wrong. My friendship with the dwarves of ages past left me with some knowledge of their home--and within the twisting halls below the mountain lies the Door with Three Locks. These are three doors that all lead into the same chamber, though distant from one another, and in that chamber reside the greatest relics of the Kings of Old, untouched by time. However, to force entry to one of the doors without the proper key is to invite certain doom upon oneself and one's allies. Be thus warned."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
"Wow," says Lug, "That's helpful—the censer and the advice. Thank you."
"Who is the 'Accursed Ogre?' And is there any pattern to when Gruuk-Darak goes out with his band of orcs? A rescue would be easier if we could do it when a lot of the orcs aren't home."
"Who is the 'Accursed Ogre?' And is there any pattern to when Gruuk-Darak goes out with his band of orcs? A rescue would be easier if we could do it when a lot of the orcs aren't home."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
"The Accursed Ogre--I don't know his name, but he arrived unexpectedly out of the north a number of years ago. Apparently he was a servant or a victim of the wizard Helflock, one of Gervan's apprentices, and he is cursed to the form of stone except when touched by the rays of the sun. Enraged or maddened by his condition, he destroys anything he comes upon while animate. As for the orcs, they seem to be ranging for two or three days at a time before they return to their home. I have not monitored them closely enough to find a specific pattern to their movements, however."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Speaking of the sun—did we notice in our previous combat whether orcs seem to be at a disadvantage when fighting in sunlight?
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
They did appear to be more sluggish and uncoordinated than you might otherwise have expected.
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
"How long will the effect of the censer last, and what happens when it wears off?" asks Lug. "Will all the orcs we passed come after us?"
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Nihilius listens closely and quietly to the tale. When the centaur speaks of the dark period which drove them from the plain, he tries to elicit more details, and if it related to the Dark Castle and the battles of the human horse kingdom. (I assume to no avail.) He is notably curious when the ogre is mentioned, but is riveted when the conversation turns to the wizards. He politely asks for more word of Helflock and Gervan as well as the ogres who serve them, soliciting the centaur's opinions on the wizards, their lands and location, and his wishes towards them.
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Careful questioning reveals that the dark time does seem to be related to the fall of the horse people and their great migration, but Xavro seems reluctant to share many details, either out of respect for the dead or because of some lingering trauma from that time.
He is less reluctant to share information about the wizards of the north. Gervan was the chief wizard of the land for nearly a millennium, known locally as the Warden of the West. His tower, the Creche of the Eye, still stands largely untouched by time many days' travel to the northwest of Xavro's grove, overlooking the western half of the great plain. He was widely regarded as a fair, if remote, overseer of the land, and the centaur often spoke of a higher purpose which the great wizard served beyond being arbiter of disputes in the land.
His death (or, more precisely, disappearance) heralded the beginning of the troubles for this region--no more than a decade after he went silent, the great darkness out of the north arose and overtook much of the land, and its influence lingers to this day. He was known to have three apprentices, or chief servants, who were privy to much of his knowledge and power and individually at least to a portion of his higher role. Those apprentices were Chronus, Helflock and Batria. Chronus disappeared even before Gervan himself, supposedly consumed by his own ambition and a magical experiment gone awry. Batria was the next to fall, as she rose in rebellion against her erstwhile master, hoping to take his power for her own. She was imprisoned in a deadly cage of black glass somewhere in the land and likely remains there to this day. Helflock remained in the Creche of the Eye even after Gervan disappeared, relying on the tower's defenses to protect himself from the darkness engulfing the land and growing ever more self-indulgent and twisted as the decades passed, in pursuit of further power and in hope of unlocking Gervan's true secrets which had never been revealed in full to his apprentices. He may still reside there, if the Accursed Ogre's fate reveals anything, but nothing is known of whether he took apprentices himself during this time.
He is less reluctant to share information about the wizards of the north. Gervan was the chief wizard of the land for nearly a millennium, known locally as the Warden of the West. His tower, the Creche of the Eye, still stands largely untouched by time many days' travel to the northwest of Xavro's grove, overlooking the western half of the great plain. He was widely regarded as a fair, if remote, overseer of the land, and the centaur often spoke of a higher purpose which the great wizard served beyond being arbiter of disputes in the land.
His death (or, more precisely, disappearance) heralded the beginning of the troubles for this region--no more than a decade after he went silent, the great darkness out of the north arose and overtook much of the land, and its influence lingers to this day. He was known to have three apprentices, or chief servants, who were privy to much of his knowledge and power and individually at least to a portion of his higher role. Those apprentices were Chronus, Helflock and Batria. Chronus disappeared even before Gervan himself, supposedly consumed by his own ambition and a magical experiment gone awry. Batria was the next to fall, as she rose in rebellion against her erstwhile master, hoping to take his power for her own. She was imprisoned in a deadly cage of black glass somewhere in the land and likely remains there to this day. Helflock remained in the Creche of the Eye even after Gervan disappeared, relying on the tower's defenses to protect himself from the darkness engulfing the land and growing ever more self-indulgent and twisted as the decades passed, in pursuit of further power and in hope of unlocking Gervan's true secrets which had never been revealed in full to his apprentices. He may still reside there, if the Accursed Ogre's fate reveals anything, but nothing is known of whether he took apprentices himself during this time.
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MonkeyWrench
- Rider of Rohan
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Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Valorei looks down to his sword, a brief look of horror crossing his face, "I apologize Xavro! I had completely forgotten! This blade seems more like an extension of myself some days, almost as if a part of me." He walks back hurriedly before unstrapping his sword and placing it on the ground where he had first laid his spear down. Giving Dorvar a silent but pained look at his companions reluctance to enter what Valorei is sure is an uniquely interesting place but does not try to talk the dwarf out of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Valorei listened to the Centaur's stories with rapt attention, eating some of the berries and other foods present, a wide smile on his face as Xavro answered questions and relayed stories that he may be the last one to know. During lulls in conversation Valorei would comment or ask questions such as,
"This grove, I can feel that it is loved and as such loves those who wish it peace. You must be greatly skilled and determined to bring such devotion from the land... Do you know of any other grove tenders? If you do, are they all Centaur or can the gift be given to any race whose determination and heart are in the right place?"
"These orc bands roam for two to three days? When was the last time you saw them? Returning or still roaming?"
"I feel that we know nothing of these orcs, from Lug's story it would seem that they are somewhat different than the usual parties of orcs, are the mountains their home? Or perhaps they are gathering for a reason? Is there a chief among chiefs that leads several bands?"
On our journey here we encounter two starving wolves, they reacted to those of us who knew the goblin tongue, but not to orcish... Do the goblins and orcs of this region not work together? Or do they fight for supremacy? Well... what goblins are left that is, from what I've gathered we have taken a large score of them out, hardly any are ever seen wandering the wilds for the past few weeks...
"Before I joined Lug in his noble journey to save his friends Me and several of those here with us now traveled to the east where we came across a giant and ancient forest, the power of the forest was so great I could feel it in my bones... But there we discovered a clan of Gryphons as well as the threat of a dragon... Do you have any news of the east? Any communication between the gryphons? I believe that someone as powerful and noble as yourself would be able to give him great aid in driving back the dragon that hunts them..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Valorei listened to the Centaur's stories with rapt attention, eating some of the berries and other foods present, a wide smile on his face as Xavro answered questions and relayed stories that he may be the last one to know. During lulls in conversation Valorei would comment or ask questions such as,
"This grove, I can feel that it is loved and as such loves those who wish it peace. You must be greatly skilled and determined to bring such devotion from the land... Do you know of any other grove tenders? If you do, are they all Centaur or can the gift be given to any race whose determination and heart are in the right place?"
"These orc bands roam for two to three days? When was the last time you saw them? Returning or still roaming?"
"I feel that we know nothing of these orcs, from Lug's story it would seem that they are somewhat different than the usual parties of orcs, are the mountains their home? Or perhaps they are gathering for a reason? Is there a chief among chiefs that leads several bands?"
On our journey here we encounter two starving wolves, they reacted to those of us who knew the goblin tongue, but not to orcish... Do the goblins and orcs of this region not work together? Or do they fight for supremacy? Well... what goblins are left that is, from what I've gathered we have taken a large score of them out, hardly any are ever seen wandering the wilds for the past few weeks...
"Before I joined Lug in his noble journey to save his friends Me and several of those here with us now traveled to the east where we came across a giant and ancient forest, the power of the forest was so great I could feel it in my bones... But there we discovered a clan of Gryphons as well as the threat of a dragon... Do you have any news of the east? Any communication between the gryphons? I believe that someone as powerful and noble as yourself would be able to give him great aid in driving back the dragon that hunts them..."
Life is a roller coaster, if you don't stop to enjoy it then you may as well not even ride.
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Xavro responds as thoughtfully as he can to each of Valorei's many questions in turn.
"First, the land in all places responds to the care that is given to it. I have dedicated my life to preservation of the land, and it has given me many gifts in return. I believe that it is possible for anyone to follow this path, if their heart is dedicated to it. Only a chance encounter opened my heart sufficiently to sustain the task, however. For others, I do not know what is required--whether they are capable from birth or require something additional as I did.
"Once there were many druids across the land, and they were of many races: elf, human, gnome, and centaur chief among them. It has been many, many years since I have had contact with or sign of another. I fear in this land that I may be the last--but given conditions, I do not travel far, and the same may be true of others in isolated areas as well.
"As for giving this gift--only the land can give it. I could not teach you how to listen to the earth any more than I could teach your heart to beat.
"Second, I have not seen the orcs first-hand. I rely on the accounts of my friends in the wild to provide me with what information they see fit to share. The last word was that Gruuk-Darak's band was returning to the outpost, perhaps a day ago.
"Next, I know that the goblins have broken and bred many wolves for their purposes, and it would seem likely that a wolf in service of the goblins would recognize only a goblin's tongue. The orcs have mounts, but their use for dogs and wolves is as guardian or attacker more than mount, and they keep them in far fewer numbers. As for alliances and masters, both the goblins and the orcs serve the Master of the Fire Tribe, of which they all are members. They come originally out of the north and east, having invaded these lands once the dwarves relinquished their hold on the mountain, as near as I can tell. Whether the Master is close by, or far off, I could not say. I do not know who he is, or anything about him apart from his name and his role.
"I knew that a young dragon had arrived many years ago in the swampy forest to the east. He had no name, and was large but docile, easily contained by the elven druids who once tended that mighty forest. If the elves have moved on, as I fear might be the case, then certainly the dragon would have free reign to make that territory his own. The gryphons themselves were once strong allies of the elves, and the greatest of the elf-princes, such as might have worn your shining sword, were known to ride them into battle against both the dwarves and the Fire Tribe in days long past. Occasionally I receive a visit from one of their number, but these visits grow rarer with time, and the gryphons, noble as they are, remain a short-lived race and their memories shrink with each passing generation. I would see no benefit in bringing harm to the dragon or to the gryphons. If they choose to remain, and are unable to protect themselves from it, then it is the natural way of things that they be lost amid the crashing waves of time."
"First, the land in all places responds to the care that is given to it. I have dedicated my life to preservation of the land, and it has given me many gifts in return. I believe that it is possible for anyone to follow this path, if their heart is dedicated to it. Only a chance encounter opened my heart sufficiently to sustain the task, however. For others, I do not know what is required--whether they are capable from birth or require something additional as I did.
"Once there were many druids across the land, and they were of many races: elf, human, gnome, and centaur chief among them. It has been many, many years since I have had contact with or sign of another. I fear in this land that I may be the last--but given conditions, I do not travel far, and the same may be true of others in isolated areas as well.
"As for giving this gift--only the land can give it. I could not teach you how to listen to the earth any more than I could teach your heart to beat.
"Second, I have not seen the orcs first-hand. I rely on the accounts of my friends in the wild to provide me with what information they see fit to share. The last word was that Gruuk-Darak's band was returning to the outpost, perhaps a day ago.
"Next, I know that the goblins have broken and bred many wolves for their purposes, and it would seem likely that a wolf in service of the goblins would recognize only a goblin's tongue. The orcs have mounts, but their use for dogs and wolves is as guardian or attacker more than mount, and they keep them in far fewer numbers. As for alliances and masters, both the goblins and the orcs serve the Master of the Fire Tribe, of which they all are members. They come originally out of the north and east, having invaded these lands once the dwarves relinquished their hold on the mountain, as near as I can tell. Whether the Master is close by, or far off, I could not say. I do not know who he is, or anything about him apart from his name and his role.
"I knew that a young dragon had arrived many years ago in the swampy forest to the east. He had no name, and was large but docile, easily contained by the elven druids who once tended that mighty forest. If the elves have moved on, as I fear might be the case, then certainly the dragon would have free reign to make that territory his own. The gryphons themselves were once strong allies of the elves, and the greatest of the elf-princes, such as might have worn your shining sword, were known to ride them into battle against both the dwarves and the Fire Tribe in days long past. Occasionally I receive a visit from one of their number, but these visits grow rarer with time, and the gryphons, noble as they are, remain a short-lived race and their memories shrink with each passing generation. I would see no benefit in bringing harm to the dragon or to the gryphons. If they choose to remain, and are unable to protect themselves from it, then it is the natural way of things that they be lost amid the crashing waves of time."
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AleBelly
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Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Varas listens to the conversation. Several motions wash over him. Disbelief, fear, and somehow trust. Although he believes many of these stories, his inner nature compels him to ask a question or two.
"You seem like a nice guy…er…horse-guy. But thousand year old wizards? Sounds like fairy tales to me. Wizards are men and women, and they live a century if they're lucky. I do not question your honor or honesty, but are you sure these stories are true?"
"You seem like a nice guy…er…horse-guy. But thousand year old wizards? Sounds like fairy tales to me. Wizards are men and women, and they live a century if they're lucky. I do not question your honor or honesty, but are you sure these stories are true?"
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
The ancient centaur smiles happily at Varas. "Your question is a good one. It is not in the nature of a man to live for centuries. In the same way, it is not truly in the nature of a tree to live for more than a handful of centuries, but some do. The nature of these things dictates that misfortune will find them, or that they will succumb to weakness as they age, or be turned to lumber for men's ships and homes. Some trees escape this fate--some find nourishing soil and avoid the ravages of disease and blight. Some trees, like these which surround you, flourish for ages uncountable by men.
"So it is with some men. Some, like Gervan, find a well to drink from that will nourish them for ages beyond which his peers would not see fit to continue on. Their natures are flimsy, delicate, a wavering flame before the strong wind of time. Not so with Gervan, and to some extent not so for his apprentices, though I believe they have weathered the eons each in their own way."
He turns and fixes Niles' dog, and then Niles, with a curious stare for a long moment, before continuing. "I am not a wizard, and so I cannot speak to the secrets responsible. But all men are but men, and thus capable of--nay, prone to--feats that defy expectation."
"So it is with some men. Some, like Gervan, find a well to drink from that will nourish them for ages beyond which his peers would not see fit to continue on. Their natures are flimsy, delicate, a wavering flame before the strong wind of time. Not so with Gervan, and to some extent not so for his apprentices, though I believe they have weathered the eons each in their own way."
He turns and fixes Niles' dog, and then Niles, with a curious stare for a long moment, before continuing. "I am not a wizard, and so I cannot speak to the secrets responsible. But all men are but men, and thus capable of--nay, prone to--feats that defy expectation."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Nihilius appears bemused by Varas' skepticism, reclining quietly against a tree trunk and enjoying the bread and fruit in small bites. As the centaur's gaze fixes and remains on him, his old eyes meet it, staring out of the youthful and pimpled face. "You look as if you have a question, Centaur. Feel free to ask it. Few amongst these are observant beyond what they see with their eyes."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Xavro shakes his head and smiles. "It is not often that wizards make their way to my grove. Their presence is sometimes...unsettling to the natural forces at work here. I hope that you will refrain from employing your magics while you are my guest, for the sake of the harmony which I have established." The smile fades a bit as his eyes unfocus and he looks off into the distance, up in the branches of the nearby trees. When his gaze returns to earth, clear once more, it is again focused on the wolfhound rather than the young wizard. He frowns and purses his aged lips slightly, then picks up the former stream of conversation.
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
In answer to Lug's question about the operation of the censer, Xavro shakes his head. "There is only a small portion of the incense that I was able to craft for you--it will last perhaps as long as twenty minutes. However, after the smoke's effects end, those influenced by it will have full memory of what transpired around them. So any orcs you bypass will still seek to locate you. My hope is simply that you will have found your way through to safety on the far side by the time they attempt pursuit, or that you have located a position from which you can safely defend yourselves."
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Lug accepts what he mentally names the Censer of Pacifism and Honey of Passage (added to sheet). He nods in understanding as Xavro explains the limitations of their use. "It'll get us in, but we'll have to fight our way out—either the way we came in, or through the mountain. What I wouldn't give for a map of the place. Does a door made with the honey stay open, or will it wear off after a while?"
When other questions have been asked of Xavro and answered, Lug turns the conversation back to strategy. "I suppose we should go in when Gruuk-Darak isn't home. We'll need to keep an eye on the orc-hold so we can see when he leaves. But we also don't want to be discovered." He looks at Ruwyn. "You small folk seem to be really good at hiding outdoors. Would you be our orc-hold-watchperson? It's about half a day travel to the orc's lair. If you report back immediately when they've left, that should give us enough time to get there while Gruuk-Darak is still gone. Or the rest of us could camp an hour or so away."
He casts a querying gaze to the others. "If Ruwyn is okay being scout, we have to figure out whether to send others along as backup. More people are safer, but also more likely to be seen. What do you think?"
When other questions have been asked of Xavro and answered, Lug turns the conversation back to strategy. "I suppose we should go in when Gruuk-Darak isn't home. We'll need to keep an eye on the orc-hold so we can see when he leaves. But we also don't want to be discovered." He looks at Ruwyn. "You small folk seem to be really good at hiding outdoors. Would you be our orc-hold-watchperson? It's about half a day travel to the orc's lair. If you report back immediately when they've left, that should give us enough time to get there while Gruuk-Darak is still gone. Or the rest of us could camp an hour or so away."
He casts a querying gaze to the others. "If Ruwyn is okay being scout, we have to figure out whether to send others along as backup. More people are safer, but also more likely to be seen. What do you think?"
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
The opening will remain permanently.
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Nihilius nods respectfully to Xavro at his response. "These wizards were known to me, once. I would restore the duties of the Warden of the West, given time, if I might call you friend. I will not disturb the magic of your glen other than what my presence alone might cause. Perhaps you could share more of Batria's Glass? How do you come to know of it, and where it resides?"
Re: Expedition - Lug/A Rescue Mission - 28 April, 1 VC
Xavro quirks an eyebrow. "Batria's Glass, eh? A curious name, but a fitting one I suppose. I know of it only through tales. Gervan made it known that Batria was to be punished for her treachery, and that her imprisonment would be such that any who attempted to aid her in escape or other endeavor would be subject to death as well. The location was never revealed, and none that I have spoken with have mentioned discovering it. It could be almost anywhere in the land, given Gervan's power and reach."
With regard to Niles' proposal, the centaur only gives him a flat and appraising look. "Helflock also claimed to be restoring the power of the Warden of the West. I find myself wary of ideas like these. The Warden of the West was a man, and he is gone--he will not be returned to us by any measure I can imagine, and anything that replaces him will by its nature be...different."
With regard to Niles' proposal, the centaur only gives him a flat and appraising look. "Helflock also claimed to be restoring the power of the Warden of the West. I find myself wary of ideas like these. The Warden of the West was a man, and he is gone--he will not be returned to us by any measure I can imagine, and anything that replaces him will by its nature be...different."