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With the advancing of the dwarfs, nothing makes sense to Clay. He stops brushing the dirt from his clothes and leads the pack animals and Morr toward Grizzly Woman and Huckleberry. He calls to Kelso, Garvell and Cardan to join him, feeling more secure in a pack. A shame he wasn't able to convince the warg to join their group.

As they assemble, Clay shouts back to the dwarf, We don't know what you are talking about. Why are you acting so hostile toward us? I have retained the services of Seneschal Duegar, Foreman of the Quarries, your kin, to build for me but the payment was made in full. Go to Beith's Watch and ask for yourself. They are the only dwarfs I have met. He looks anxiously at the others as he tries to explain their group is here to disarm a necromantic goblin king.


CHA 13 vs [5d6] = 21

I am thinking that, as a human, the word "kin" would mean something different to Clay than it does to these dwarfs. Clay is thinking he means brothers/cousins/etc, not "my great-great-great-great-grandfather's third cousin, twice removed." So Clay is not deliberately withholding information about his prized treasure, which he won in battle from the undead that clearly killed (and ate) the previous owners.

It will be interesting to see how the Duke deals with these seemingly marauding dwarfs.

I want to ensure player/GM understanding, so I am going to pause a moment and talk about flow so far. Feel free to read. Half-pint CHA [4d6] = 14

The dwarves hold Bluebelle firmly, who shies underneath Foxy. "I will defend my honor as you have shown you lack it. I will then search you and all your companions for stolen property. And yes, we will certainly have words with your ArchDuke about his poor judgment in allowing you as emmisaries in his name, unless that too is a lie." He draws his axe and holds it impassively. "Dismount if you have honor."

The Dwarven company fans out around Clay's camp, not quite surrounding them and stopping at a respectful distance (20'). "We seek only that which belongs to us, which might have been purloined by your highwaywoman leader from our kin. You may show your integrity by providing it freely." While he is respectful, he is still clipped and unfriendly in his tone.

Clay calls back to the dwarf. Thieves are a bane to the world, to be sure, but if you look at this from our perspective - and please take no offense to this - but you are looking like highwaymen, yourselves. I do not know what has transpired between you and Ms. O'Hare - we have been tending to the injured and the animals. What is it you are looking for? A book? An animal? A weapon? If it is within my power to return what is yours, I would.

As I said before, Seneschal Duegar and his craftsmen are in my employ. I hold no quarrel with your kin. Or with you. We only seek to eliminate the threat of the Goblin King currently practicing necromancy. The same one that made off with your metalworking equipment, if I remember correctly.



EDIT: If we get past this awkward introduction and get to sit down, perhaps Halfpint will remind these stereotypically-dwarfish dwarfs that she told them we had found "A bronze warhorn showing many kings. I think Clay has that one." viewtopic.php?f=355&t=6089&start=40#p281184

Maybe they will remember that some items were already returned to them.

Halfpint's face betrays her frustration that no one listens to her. She is used to it, even from her home lands.

She stands back, afraid of the decision that she may be required to face. Fighting one group of folks she thought were her friends to appease the other.

Rusty Tincanne wrote:EDIT: If we get past this awkward introduction and get to sit down, perhaps Halfpint will remind these stereotypically-dwarfish dwarfs that she told them we had found "A bronze warhorn showing many kings. I think Clay has that one." viewtopic.php?f=355&t=6089&start=40#p281184

Indeed, they did forget that one and came forth with their hearts swelled by the hope of finding kin when they felt the horn's call. You can remind them of it, though.

[5d4-4] = 11-4 = 7 CHA check
Success for Clay. Moves the camp-group back up to Dubious from Unfriendly/May Attack.

As Clay speaks reasonably and invokes his recent relations with Seneschal Duergar, the spokesman for the patrol looks a bit more uncertain, lowering his hammer unthreateningly and scratching his beard. "Alright... you'll cooperate, then? I can answer both yer questions. First, we're looking for the Horn of Jarkul, legacy of our forefathers, which we have heard sounded. It is a sound that rings in the hearts of all dwarves, and we came with haste to provide aid, hoping to find our kin, but instead tracking to only find you. Second - Your Highwaywoman, who says she is Fochelle de Coulthard but is clearly the Foxy O'Hare of tales both fair and foul. She proceeded to insult my Commander's beard, his ancestors, his honor and deeds, and his bravery. He defends his honor now as she threatens his genitals, beard, and hair. Association with her does none of you honor." His last words and delivered through a taught expression. "Did you see our kin, or do you know of the Horn, or how it came to be winded? Our orders are to search you."

Baxtaw- Ms. Ohare this approach you are taking does not aid the Dukes quest at all. This is the last I speak of this. You will take this battle on yourself. If the insults continue between the two Baxtaw will move to find Clay



Sorry for missing the last few days. I have become a grandpa as of Tuesday to a 7lb baby girl.

Yes Congrats....
I hopefully have at least 10 more years before that happens.

Halfpint waits to hear Clay's response.

I don't think Halfpint is aware of what is transpiring at the camp. (Clay would have been glad for her assistance!). Halfpint and Baxtaw are embroiled in the Foxy's interaction.

Glad to see the slackening of tension, Clay listens to the dwarf. He wonders what it must be like to have so much pride. You are so fortunate to have your clan with you! It could be that Ms. O'Hare has been using a false name with us to protect her past. I couldn't say. Remember that each of us came to this land on our own with nothing to our names but what we carried. Our associations are of mutual need to survive, not out of kinship. So try not to judge us by our associates' actions, but rather that we are desperate enough to... well... Try and think kindly that we can tolerate one another. We are doing the best we can.

Feeling more sure he will not be brained if he drops his guard, Clay kneels to fish through the pack while talking more. As to Jarkul. Well I don't know anything about him. But you said you are looking for something that belonged to your kin, not your ancestors. The horn is something you've never seen then?

So. I was on an outing a few weeks ago when beset by some ghouls - the Grizzly Woman, her bear, Halfpint, me and some others, that is. We spent a two days battling these fallen creatures, clearing out their nests. When our fighting was done and the land purified by my goddess, we took some items from the midden heaps, some of which was of dwarf make. I believe your kin has seen halfpint's armor. And she an Bandy sold old armor and weapons to your clan. There was more. Including this. Clay pulls the horn from his pack to show. As I said, I don't know anything about Jarkul, but this is magical. I used it when we were attacked by a pack of wolves (led by a warg). It was really loud, so maybe that was what you heard. And at first I thought that that was it and I'd be dead, but then the earth erupted and a handful of your kin erupted from the earth. Born of earth and stone, as they say, right? Except these guys were actually earth and stone and clay. They minced up the warg and his pack and then returned whence they came. We left the bodied for the crows.

It was real handy, to be sure. And if you'd like to see the ghoul lair it came from, well that is where I having the Senechal build my meeting house. On the purified land. If this isn't the horn, maybe tehre is another nearby?

Foxy O'Hare


"Quite clearly you are a rude arrogant bully. You speak of honour and then besmirch the reputation of envoys of Gaul, you slander the innocent with claims of theft and threaten to personally search folk like a taxman fleecing blood from a stone. You command men, nay they are not men, they are puppets who uphold your vanity and pride, your grey beard and your unseeded manhood, your unsung heroics of no doubt telling tales of tavern brawls and unseen dangers from the mine you crept from. Where are the true dwarves who seek true virtue? To help the oppressed, the lift high the orphan and widow, to lay low the aberrations that molest, seekers of truth, mercy and justice. Those who claim to walk in Blackhelms' footsteps should step wary least they dishonour his deeds. And now Thundred, you butter your pride even more by seeking to better an injured woman. Come then, let me fill up your tankard and give you the song that will be sung so mightily and loud in your name, around the campfires and mead halls of Thyrren Blackhelms realm."

Foxy will dismount from Bluebelle, handed the reins to one of the dwarves. "If my honour is upheld you will kneel whenever I mount to and from my horse , the soles of my feet shall be upon your neck lest I dirty my foot upon the ground. (to the other) You shall be my shield liege and carry my pennons afore my path and light my way."

Foxy walks further up the hill.

The dwarf does indeed seem to have difficulty in understanding Clay's explanations. "Jarkul is our kin," he says with furrowed brow,"My seventh cousin, six times removed, but the bearer of the horn would be less removed, of course, when we meet them." He doesn't seem to grasp the idea of using a false name, or how such a thing could possibly be okay. "How could you know anything about them?"

When Clay pulls out the horn, there is a collective inhalation of shock and awe by the ten dwarves, their demeanor immediately improving. "That is it! That is the line of kings around its lip,"he explains but clearly assumes you already knew them. "You've recovered it for us!" They pay rapt attention as Clay now relays the story of its recovery and the fate of their seventh cousins at the hands of ghouls.

Adjudication... As Foxy further insults Thundred's actions, his honor, his virility, his beard, and his renown, the dwarves collectively gasp and redden. When she crescendoes by calling all dwarves present "puppets" to his "unseeded manhood" the rage boils over, eliciting shouts from the five dwarves behind him. The situation has clearly spiraled out of control as Foxy dismounts, issuing a threat to use the dwarves nearest her as footstools.

"You... You are unredeemable!" sputters Thundred, nearly breathless in rage. The five dwarves roar battle cries and rush the offensive woman, axes and shields in hand, emotions now far from in control.

At the campsite over the hill, Clay's conversation is interupted by the battle cries. The dwarves abruptly cease negotiation and begin running back over the crest to the aid of their kin.

(Actions and initiative. Six dwarves are present immediately - the other ten will arrive on round 3.)

Foxy O'Hare

[1d6] = 6

Foxy melee: Scimitar:[1d20] = 2damage:[1d8] = 7

"Gentlemen, one at a time please! Or is this mob the only way Thundreds' honour is restored?", she wafts her sword defensively against the circling dwarves, clear exasperated.

Halfpint just stands where she is, watching the dual;
uttering,

"No...No..." to no effect.

Just as Clay feels the tension slacken from his situation, the rest of the world erupts. He can just make out Ms. O'Hare being mobbed by stout men half her height and knows she won't survive. The feisty red head has been the bane of his existence many times, but she has also (likely) saved his life. And though he would like to count on the dwarfs joining his quest, their purposes are not obviously entwined, whereas Ms. O'Hare is determined to see the Goblin King dethroned.

Seeing the dwarfs rushing off to join the fray, Clay feels helpless. Too far to cast any spells, too weak to intervene. Clay looks at the horn in his hands and shrugs. I hope these guys can act as bodyguards... Clay concentrates his entire being on peace as he blows one short burst into the horn. If any clay dwarfs emerge, he will command them not to engage in combat, but to act as passive shields for his companions.

(To be fair, "mob" is the correct term as "honorable duel" was lost with the provocation last round from "unfriendly" to "hostile.")

Foxy's quick reflexes aid her as she faces the mass of enraged dwarves that now seeks bloody vengeance for her words. She swings first, missing her blow, but keeps her scimitar weaving a net of steel around her to keep them at bay. Clumsy and either inexpert or too enraged for tactics, the five dwarves all fail to land blows on her. A young, short-bearded dwarf even critically missteps right into her riposte, Foxy's blade sinking deep into the side of his skull (-6). The dwarf drops leadenly to the ground at her feet. Thundred himself then let's out a gutteral cry of rage and grief, stepping into the breach and catches Foxy with his axe, putting a rent in her armor and drawing a trickle of her blood (-3).

The other ten dwarves appear at the crest of the Ridgeline above, running towards the scene, when the strident sound of the horn echoes once again across the hillsides. The dwarves - both those fighting and those running - stop in shock, looking back towards its source.
(Foxy has a free action)

Clay stands with trepidation, focusing all his thoughts on peace, waiting for the clay-and-stone warriors to pop from the earth, but nothing emerges.


Rolls:

Seeing he has achieved the desired effect, Clay shouts to the combatants. STOP!!! I don't care what started this foolishness! Just stop! Baxtaw and Halfpint, hold Ms. O'Hare, please! Clay rushes towards the group, saving the horn overhead and begging the rest of the group to help him.

Is the dwarf all-dead or mostly dead? If he can be stabilized, Clay will administer his healing potion when he arrives.

Baxtaw does enter into battle. This not what we are here for! Stop this at once! When Clay gives his command to cease he moves to tend to the dwarfs head wound. Foxy stop your attack this is not our mission.

Foxy O'Hare


Not one for taking the opportunity to mount Bluebelle and ride away, Foxy seeks another way to conclude this standoff.

Looking at the dwarf who dropped and lies bleeding at her feet, she puts the point of her scimitar to his throat.

"Cease your vexation Thundred. I have withheld my ground against your brutal assault and you have bested my guard and bloodied your axe. Our 'offended' honours are even don't you think," she says.


" Look at this boy, for that is what he is. His beard is not long enough to have seen too many seasons. Would you tell his mother he lies here fallen for your pride, impaled through his impetuousness and yours. Would Jarkuls' horn sound 'Butterfields' Lullaby' over his cairn? My cleric comrade carries a bugle he wrested from a ghoulish den. Is this what you seek? You want to retrieve that but offer little in return.

She pauses for a moment, still wary of the attacking dwarves, still point of sword resting on the throbbing throat of the dwarf, then continues.

"Let my cleric friend quickly apply his healing arts to your boy. When healed he can be seconded to him as retainer. Not to me; for all those who follow me do so of their own free will. Even our hired arms are under the care and command of Miss Half-Pint here. Pride and horn restored to you, Thundred, and your boy can lengthen both his days and his beard serving alongside Clay."

Foxy will step away from the body.

If the battle seems to be at a cease fire, Halfpint will attempt to help separate the combatants. Kinda of like how football teammates start building a human shield and pushing back their teammate away from the other side.