Adriena gazes at her hands and feet, feels her small tusks and warts, and is startled when the old man calls for her to follow - everyone one else is already in the process of finding suitable attire. Quickly, so as not to incur the wrath of the man servant, she enters her room and disrobes.

A loud shriek pierces the ears of those nearest her room, and moments later Adriena's (now odd) voice is heard, "Sorry, everyone. I was changing when I saw myself in the full-length mirror. I was just a little surprised is all. I'm ok....now...I think."

She places one of her sacks inside the other. This she ties around her neck with the long pull string and hangs it down her front, so it hangs at her belly. Satisfied with the fit, she places in it her spell components, book, chalk (wrapped in leather), candles (wrapped in leather), and - to fill it out and hide the lumps - her silk rope. Taking another string, she secures the bundle to her midsection to prevent loose movement.

With a little trepidation, she eyes her handy work. "We'll just have to see what the others think," she mumbles. Finding the *cleanest* set of green clothes she can find -this takes a while- she dons them and then a black robe.

By the time Adriena emerges for the dressing room, everyone else is admiring their new appearance. She gives herself a more hunched posture to help hide her stomach and approaches the group. "Grunt, snort. Make way for the Priestess you flea-ridden scum!! grunt! Well , how do I look?"

Ganthanor looks through the weapon stash for a Two-handed Orc sword. If one does not exist here then I will try for a Long sword. After that I will don the chainmail if it fits and sit back satisfied.

Looking through all of the various weapons you find only one two-handed sword. It is definitely orc-made. The balance is off, there are several notches in blade and there are a few spots of rust. After a few moments of hefting it and examining the blade for any major faults, which might translate into the blade breaking in combat, Ganthanor decides that this blade will suffice until something better comes along.

There are several sets of chainmail, Ganthanor picks out the best set that will fit him, noting all of the minor repairs and various stains that cover the armour. The armour is quite dirty and smells like a three-day old corpse, typical for orc armour. Ganthanor wrinkles his snout and puts on the armour.

Gregory will take an orcish longsword but no armour. "I sure am glad we weren't going into troll territory, I could not bare being disguised as one of those foul creatures."

Looking around the room Gregory finds that while the most prevalent weapon which has numerous different varieties is the club, the longsword selection is a distant second number wise. Gregory is able to, after going through about 10 different blades, find one that though definitely orc-made is of a little higher quality than the rest, (no rust and few notches) with it comes a scabbard.

Malis is scavenging for a broadsword, but she'll take a club if she doesn't find anything that's not all rusted up. She is also looking for some chainmail to wear under the black robe(if that's possible).

Malis is not able to find any broadswords, but she does find an ornate (for an orcish weapon) warhammer, with orcish script down the length of handle. Malis then searches through the armour until she finds a set that will fit her. She dons a black robe over the chainmail to complete her wardrobe.

Aan will search for suit of leather armor. The most important thing is sound. If it makes much sound during movement Aan rejects it. If all the sets of leather squeak, rasp, whatever Aan will go sans armor. Next he searches for a well balanced dagger for throwing. He'll flip them a few times to test the balance. If possible he'll strap it behind his right shoulder, if not around the waist. Once the fighters are through Aan will look for a light but sturdy long sword. If sturdy must be sacrificed for light so be it.

After searching through all of the various armours, Aan is able to find a set that fits him and doesn't make any more sound than would be expected. He is not able to tell from what kind of creature the armour was made, and with a gulp, realizes that he really doesn't want to know. Aan then wades through all of the daggers and finds a few that are designed for throwing. He picks the best of the lot and rigs the scabbard to fit behind his shoulder. Looking for a decent longsword is an easy task. Aan finds a light blade that is only slightly off balance and still has a decent edge on it.

Garth applies much the same standards to the equipment he chooses, taking leather armor, a dagger or two, and a short sword. Looking at his clothes, he frowns. "Green," he says, "My second favorite color."

Garth finds and dons a set of armour and straps two daggers around his waist. Looking through all of the short swords, he manages to find one that is not battered and bent like the rest of the short swords, picking up its scabbard, he cinches it around his waist as well.

Aan surveys the group. "I dare say I'm the only one better looking as an orc than before. Though even an orc's appearance cannot completely extinguish the fair Adriena's beauty. Forgive me, milady, if I've overstepped my bounds. Now where's this map?"

"If I hadn't seen myself in the mirror, I might believe you! Ha, ha. Oh, I mean -snort, watch how you speak to a Priestess!" Adriena says as she gives Aanparon the a large smile to show that she is only teasing him and turns to the old man, " How does this look? Can you tell I am concealing something? I don't want to jeopardize the mission, but I am not much use without my spellbook and components." She stands a little taller and turns this and that to give everyone a good view and looks at them questioningly.

Ganthanor moves over to the old man and asks, "Tell me Sir, do you think we stand a chance on our mission? We have less than sterling armor and weapons, the odds are a million to 1, we have no idea where we are going, and you appear to be indignant as if you feel you are wasting your time on dead men. What say you?" Ganthanor points out the armor and weapon he wears as if to prove his point.

The old man looks over Ganthanor with a bored look, noting his weapons and armour and then in his low voice that seems to carry throughout the room says, "From my experience, you weapons and armour are vastly superior to what can be normally found in the hands of orcs. Also, you do know where you are going, I am sure that the Lady would not send you out without knowing what your mission was. Finally, perhaps you do not understand the honor that you are receiving.. You all have been chosen by _the_ Lady Otasura for an important mission, only the Gods know why she picked such rabble as yourselves and not people of a more distinct [sniff] reputation and standing."

As the old man finishes speaking he runs his hands down his tunic straightening it and flicking an invisible fleck of dirt off his sleeve as it is apparent that he thinks that even standing near the orc might contaminate him in some way.

Garth brushes up on his Orcish, muttering something about the sexual preferences of his forefathers and the number of legs his maternal ancestors walked on. "More reputable people..." he says, now in Common, "People such as yourself? Perhaps you would care to join us on this mission? You would certainly lend a distinct air of... well, a distinct air of something..." and he barks out harsh Orcish laughter.

The old man smiles at the little weasel-looking orc as he re-adjusts his tunic again, his fingers moving with a little flourish before he clasps his hands behind his back, "Alas, boy, I have already done my share of adventuring; I am content watching young pups such as yourself carrying the banner."

Garth stares at the old man for a second as he realizes that the old man is talking in the hand-signals of the secret language known only to those who stalk the night. Garth is hard-pressed to decipher the signals, the old man's fingers move with such speed and precision, it is clear that the old man is a master in the secret language. Garth is able to make out something along the lines of, "Push me not boy or I will ensure that you never 'work' in this kingdom again; you will be branded 'outlaw' and all of the 'brothers' will hunt you."

Garth shuts up real quick, gives the old man a big feces-eating grin and remembers something his father once told him about saying things quietly in his head before saying them out loud.

The old man appears to get even more impatient after Garth's outburst and stands silently, his hands clasped behind his back, his left foot tapping on the ground. Once it is clear to him that everyone has clothed, armoured and armed themselves, he says, "Kindly follow me," before he turns and swiftly begins moving in a different direction through the manor than you took from the meeting room. Each of you are able to keep up better this time since you are wearing clothing that actually fits.

The old man stops suddenly before a door. He opens it and steps inside of the room taking his normal position in one fluid motion. Slowly you all filter into the room. The room is square shaped, roughly forty feet by forty feet are the dimensions. On the wall to the left of the door you entered is a large map of HonShar and its surroundings. Next to the map, on the right is a table with six orc-style brooches on it and three stacks of orcish coins. The smallest stack is of gold coins, the next larger is copper and the largest is silver. There are several small pouches next to the stack of coins.

In the center of the room is a rune circle inscribed onto the floor. It is roughly a 10' diameter circle. Standing at the head of the circle is the Lady Otasura. You notice that she is examining each of you as you enter, nodding her head before moving onto the next person. Upon examining Adriena, she nods and says, "That will suffice."

Once you all have entered the Lady says, "That is the map. Feel free to study it for a few moments. Next to the map are brooches that I wish for each of you to wear. They will allow me to magically home in on you to monitor your progress and to determine if you need assistance or rescuing. There are 10gp, 50sp and 40cp in orcish coinage. You may take it all, split it amongst yourselves as you wish. I have a small number of spells that I can cast upon you to help in your venture, the simplistic names of these spells are: Armour, Stoneskin, infravision, strength, protection from normal missiles, enchanted weapon and improved invisibility. Decide amongst yourself who gets which spell."

The Lady walks over to the Map and produces a large wand from her robes that she uses as a pointer. "I'll be teleporting you into territory that the orcs have held form more than two months now. They could have a major resupply station there not for all I know. I thought I'd send you away 'ready for bear,' as the hunters say, just in case. Spells, unlike equipment have no weight." The Lady then points out where you will be teleported to [Otasura's manor] and the route to Krimba-Hai [a pretty much straight line cutting through the Achray forest going across country].

"Do you have any final questions?" The Lady asks.

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