Belak eagerly awaits the cooking of the cow....the party see him licking his chops occassionly as he watches the flesh blaze on the fire with the grease sizzling and popping over the fire. "Youze guys are alright!!! Anyone that eats this well can't be that bad. Perhaps when this "situation" is taken care of, we can have one big shindig with ale and the finest food in all the Realms!"

Brightmane downs a drink in one draw and looks at Belak "Good dwarf, after yon villan is defeated.......you are on!"

Amidst the now overwhelming din and ruckus of the Wemic's growls and war cries,the magic user also feels himselves drawn into the excitement and thrill of great events and challenges that are now presenting themselves. Feeling the great emotion and pride of these natural warriors brings a similar emotion and feeling from the traveling scholar. Coble pounds his chest with his right fist and raises his left hand and cane to the sky, and adds his own hollers, yelps and assorted growls. Feeling strangely elated and satisfied at the same time (somewhat akin to simultaneous catharsis and climax) the now exultant Coble walks throughout the camp greeting old and new comrades with words of encouragement and elation. "Hail to the warriors, my friends, Hail to those who battle and fights gainst evil's reign. Let each of us find the courage in our lives shown by those who go forth to battle for kin and kind." Encouraged by the brave and powerful creatures, Coble passes around and enjoys as he may the conversation and talk. Coming to two notable Wemic's near Brightmane, he asks the question: "What can you tell us of the location and nature of this tower. Does it reach to the sky, or does it merely reach to the tops of trees. Is there a single entrance, or are there many? Can a small group approach this place without notice? What ever you may share with us, know that we strive to reach and pull down those who have raised this dark place. In truth, we will seek a battlefield within that place, to vie for life and power with those who reign there. Quickened by the wine and the mood, Coble throws back his hood and eats, laughs, drinks and enjoys the company of the Pride.

"Brightmane, your bravery truly speaks of the Might of Tempus. Let us discuss what plans we have so that we may yet again gather around a similar fire in the not too distant future and share our triumphs! From your reconnitering, have you noticed any gapings flaws in their guarding? Any areas that perhaps the goblinoids are less diligent in protecting? The reason I ask is that although I believe Tyr and the Gods will exert their power for us to overcome (a look to Tallandril here), I too believe that the Gods help those who help themselves. A frontal assault may not be the wisest option as we know the horde size is large. I believe that a smallish group which could pass unseen might be more prudent. What say you?"

Brightmane listens to all the questions being thrown his way. he fills his mug again, and turns to the party. " I will share with you what I know. There are approximately 10 tribes of goblinkin in side the city. Each tribe may house anywhere from 10 to 100. the tower sits about 100 yds from the city, by itself. None of the ugly orcs or goblins will go near it. the woodline ends abot 150 yds from the tower, so I have not gotten a close look at the structure itself. The area around the building seems to be clear. there are no signs of recent excavations, though the dwarf will be better able to make that determination. From the woodline, we could see no entrance into the structure, but we could not see it from every angle. I have cunsulted with the spirits, and they have told me that there are beings within yon tower that are more powerful than any of us have ever faced. And the leader is among the most powerful of his kind. As for the outcome of the battle, the spirits could not foresee. They say it all depends upon us." he stands up to his full seven and a half feet. "My fellow warriors will attack the front. no one can sway them from this. It is thier detsiny. i will follow you into the tower. There is were we will find better prey." He draws his sword, the blade glowing with a light all its own, lighting up the darkness around the campfire. "My sword is yours. As is my life." he then turns suddenly, his sword's glow lighting a figure that seemed to melt out of the darkness. Behind Myrage you see an obviously female figure in a sheer gossimer robe. her face is hidden within the depths of her hood. She moves silently to Myrage's side, bending down and whispering something in his ear. Myrage nods and the woman shuffles back out of the sword's glow and seems to dissapear. brightmane sheaths his sword, turning the night black once again except for the light of the campfire. All eyes turn expectantly twords Myrage.

Myrage motions for the Drow to enter the clearing. "I would introduce you, but suren I did not catch your name." You see the muscles of most in the clearing tighten at the sight of the Drow , and this is only magnified when more malterialise from the shadows of the fire cast upon the canopy of undergrowth. Myrage raised his hands then, motioing to the Dark Elves that stood, seemingly somewhat unsure of themselves, still within the reach of the forest. "I introduce allies in the cause." As if to punctuate the point, Az' sat up, his weary eyes igniting once more as he recognised the Priestess before him, and loped to muzzle the side of the gossamer atired woman

Tallandril, seeing the drow enter the clearing goes rigid, his eyes flashing with the innate hatred his race bears for their evil counterparts. He looks at Myrage with barely veiled contempt for one who would associate with drow, and a priestess at that! One of the hands of Lloth! Standing, he looks daggers at the priestess and says, "What reason would your kind have to help us in our fight? You would only benefit from the chaos this has caused, and Lloth must be having a field day with this." Continuing to stare at the drow in askance, he awaits an answer.

Blake steps back into the shadows and stand silently observing. He is neutral, for now.

Myrage turns sharply to Tallandril. "Speak whence, and only whence, your knowledge gives you the right. Do you think me fool enough to ask a worshipper of Lloth to join our table? " The ranger seemed irate, and Az', finally noticing the dagger in the surface elves hand, turned, issuing a deep growl. The ranger continued, though you get the feeling he is trying to persuade himself as much as anyone else. "Would you deny a Dwarf the right to join our campaign, even though he bears the same forefathers as Duergar? You give surface elves a bad name, jumping to conclusions worthy of a Lloth worshipping Drow" Myrage spat at the final words, and his hands dropped to his hilts, apparently ready to defend his guests

Jornath's rage is visible to all as he intervenes between his two comrades. "ENOUGH! Tal, we have invited Myrage's friends to our fire to explain themselves. If there are any among them who require Justice, do not think that Tyr will overlook them. Myrage, take your hands off of your weapons. Tal is right in speaking the thought that these visages most times mean death, destruction and chaos. Surely you cannot overlook the enmity that is between his race and theirs (warranted over many times, and not warranted only a few)." Facing the Priestess, Jornath inlcines his head towards another devout. "Mistress, we are grateful for your desire to join our cause. 'Many hands make light work' as the saying goes. Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain to us what brings you and your people here. I am sure we are all interested in hearing your story." (A stern look to Tal)

"I will not deny them the chance to make explanations," Tallandril says, stepping back and sheathing the weapons he had unconsciously drawn. So saying he casts a mildly apologetic look to Myrage, though his demeanor towards the groups newest guests remains icy.

With a somewhat curious look on his face, Coble Constantine works his way forward to see these new visitors brought by Myrage. Watching the conflict between comrades and the harsh words spoken, he pauses puzzled, and then realizing that each person has their own reasons, and each person their own fears; he steps into the background to allow time and words to pass. He continues to watch the fearsome Wemics to see what their reaction might be. Understanding that people and other creatures each are subject to the ingrained fears, feelings and bias' that are programmed into them, he gauges the effect these new allies will have on the existing members. Seeing the need for all the suppport they may gain, Coble recognizes that at times, even the strangest combinations of allies may be the most effective. Seeing the skills and abilities presented by the newcomers and frankly intrigued by the grace and beauty of the Priestess, the scholar studies her face, manner and movements - with a keen interest.

Jacosa looks at Myrage searchingly for several moments as the Drow enter the clearing and snaps her gaze to Tallandrill as he speaks. After only a few heartbeat's hesitation she stands and casually makes her way nearer Myrage (to a position between the approaching Drow and Tallandrill). She makes no hasty moves, but her hand casually rests upon her sabre and her gaze is far more guagingly upon Tallandrill than the Drow. Very softly she says, "Myrage has said they are allies. I'm sure all will come to clarity in time and until it does we should set aside our prejudices..."

The drow priestess walks into the firelight. You then realize that Brightmane has drawn his sword. "I am for judging people of any race by their actions, not the actions of their kin. But I warn you, wench, if you make one sudden move, you last vision in life will be that of your own entrails sliding on the ground you walk on." he then moves into a ready position.

The priestess pulls back her gossimer hood. Her beauty makes even the stern visage of Jornath soften. She looks directly at Brightmane, and says "Mighty One, I accept your wisdom. And I will not harm anyone." Brightmane also bows his head, seemingly embarrased by his stance. She walks over to stand beside Myrage and pulls his hands from the hilts of his weapons. She turns to Tallandril "you are right to suspect me, cousin. For though I have done you no harm, the evils of the Drow are legendary. But I assure you, I do not worship the accursed spider queen." She turns to Myrage "My name is T'risstree, and The Goddess Eillistraee answers my prayers, and I bow to no other." She puts her arm in Myrage's and continues "There are few of the drow who actually can stave off the evil influences of the Underdark, but there are some. We spend our nights here, on the surface, dancing and singing praises to The Dark Maiden. Our numbers are growing, but we still are too few to make up for the evils of our kin."

"When the dark horde descended upon the village, The Dark Maiden came to me in a dream. She said that we were to find a band of heros and to help them to destroy this evil. Once our involvement in the battle is known, we hope to make it known that their are good in our race."

"But now we must share what we know. As of our knowledge, we know only two things you have not already discussed. Number one is that the tower seems to go down into the earth at least as far as it goes into the heavens. Number two, the thing that dwells in the tower is not what it appears. It appears to be a human mage but it is really....... AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!" The priestess screams, clasping her head in agony. She collapses to the ground, moaning. A sudden unearthly chill settles over the campsite, chilling you to the bone. A deep booming voice seems to come from the chill itself "Come to me, my little playthings, your death awaits." The voice fades, and the chill is gone.

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