Avon Calling

[OOC: Status: "Today" in melfis began when you all got up at 5 am back at Kalban's house. You ate breakfast. You had a meal last when in the tunnels about 2 pm. That was dry rations and bottled water. It is now approx. 7 pm. and the sun will set in approx. 1 hr 20 min The tide is pretty HIGH at the moment, and there is not a lot of sand on the Devils Point sandbar in front of the cave mouths.]

Sandros, upon hearing the gong, grabs a hold of their prisoner by his shoulders. "What's that sound mean? They calling in more troops?" he asks.

Dak, his mouth agape at the site of Jarg running [rowing] away, is startled by Sandros' question. He looks scared. "Uhh. That's the warning bell. Somebody found the Assassin and her prisoner, I guess... N..n..no. There's no more troops. I don't want to die. Let me live, pleeeeeeease. I'm telling the truth."

Ven nods his agreement. "He's probably sitting on a stash of gold coins just praying that we forget about him. Let's get going; the sooner we find him the sooner we can eat."

Tavarak looks and Ven and stops short, half wondering if the comment means that we will be having the thief for dinner. Tav cringes and wonders if there is such a thing as cave garlic, and if it grows in this region.

Daggda's fair-but-bright-red face relaxes in its fury, returning to its natural brown color. Smiling broadly at Andrew, the dwarf chuckles grimly, "Don't worry, those filthy beldarak hate bathing in water, let alone swimming in it. Let the coward drown."

Looking at the dwindling beach, Daggda mutters, "Can't say I'm much of a fan of boats and such myself, though," and looks along the beach in the dwindling daylight for other cave entrances. Turning to Sandros, the dwarven acolyte abruptly barks out, "Make this trash show us where the prince is." Daggda continues to scan along the rockline for cave entranceswithout a second glance at the orc prisoner.

Daggda stamps around on the wet sand at the cave mouth, but decides that, with the waves breaking nearly the rocks, this would not be a good time to wade out into the surf to look more closely for other openings.  The dwarf knows there must be one just around the next rock, since that is where Jarg went.

Quill, cursing the fact she'd left her bow lying inside the cavern, calls out to Daggda, "We can't catch him now. Maybe we should go back inside, and try to find out where that gong came from. Or at least find a good place to defend ourselves from whatever is being summoned by the thing." She shrugs.

Andrew takes the briefest of moments to take a deep breath and enjoy the fresh air. Even he was suprised by how much he felt out of sorts in that cave. Not at all satisfied with the escape of Jarg, Andrew tosses the end of the rope holding Dak to the nearest party member and begins casting at once, before Jarg can get out of range. "Oh no you don't" and "I hope he can't swim!" is all Andrew says before he starts his spell.

"Mother Najela, of fresh air and light;
grant me the power to stop his flight.
Take that boat of glue and wood;
let loose the power to sink him good!"
[ OOC: Andrew casts Warp wood on Jarg's mode of travel]

Tavarak waits a minute until he is truely satisfied that the Orc has sunk to the bottom of the sea. "Well i guess we should go and make sure that that fool hasn't gotten himself killed." Turning towards the cave mouth he heads off in search of the wayward thief, and the source of the gong.

Brushing his hands together Andrew has a satisfied look on his face once again. Taking another deep breath of the fresh air and basking in the fading sunlight Andrew grudgingly turns back and reclaims the prisoner. "For Avon's sake I think we'd better go check out that gong."

If everyone agrees Andrew pokes Dak and restates Sandros' point, "Take us to this Assassin and the prisoner and I promise you won't be hurt Dak. You said no more troops. That better be the truth." After any response Andrew softens his visage a little to let the little guy know he's telling the truth.

Retracing their steps, the group quickly returns to the bloody cavern area where the dead bodies are.  Quill retreives her bow, slinging it over her shoulder.

Dak indicates that the Assassin and her prisoner would be down the same passageway that Avon went down.  The group heads that way, winding up at the entrance to the darkened passage where Quill last saw Avon.

Sandros nods, and he prods the prisoner back towards the caverns. "You heard him...lead us on to this assassin. And don't get any ideas to lead us into a trap. If we're ambushed, you die before anybody. Got it?" He gives him a feral grin.

"By the way...did I mention I'm turning into a vampire? I'd hate to get hungry and decide to snack on an orc or two..." Sandros snickers, and waits for the orc to get moving.

Myr sullies up behind Sandros and sniffs his back, smiling quite widely, mumbling to herself. "Not ready yet..."
"I'm okay, by the way. Was just using a little wild mojo magic war whoop." She grins.

Following along with everyone else, she clutches her dagger close to her waist and looks around the walls, squinting her eyes. "Flybreath?Flybreath?"

Sandros grins back, and says, "If I start smelling dead, let me know. I'll certainly do my best to bathe."

As the group turns back into the cavern, after witnessing Jarg's demise, Myr hears the bright and chipper ~mental bleak~ of  Flybreath.  Judging from the strength of it, he must be quite close.  She looks around, and is delighted to see him, clinging to the rock wall nearby. 

The little lizard's eyes are bright and excited.  "There were two and two and two and two and two of them that I saw.  But when I came back there weren't any.  I did have to sneak around when I found the cat, though.  That was pretty close.  Stupid thing cant even climb walls.  What a useless animal.  Why would anyone have one of THOSE?  Just sitting on the straw near that fire thing... looking smug.  I couldn't even get close to the hot, bubbly thing.  Stupid cat.  Every time I moved, it jumped at me.  If it had any sense it would have just climbed up the wall, like a decent animal.  Stupid."

"Of course," Myr agrees encouragingly. "Cats are stupid. But you're a smart, smart lizard, and you've done such a good job! Tell me now... is it a big big cat? Big like this?" She holds her hand to the approximate height of a panther. "Or a kinda big cat? Like this." She puts her hand closer to the floor and measures the height of a pussy cat. "Can you show me where they all are?"

Avon's eyes scan the room for anything he can use to lengthen his life later on when the orcs might decide to add some strong arguments to the discussion. At the moment there is little that he can do since out running a crossbow bolt isn't his best trait.

Then, for a moment, Avon's hand holding his sword, trembles. But instead of fear it is caused by excitement. The black robe triggers numerous of erotic and sexual fantasies within Avon's mind. Steadying himself he slowly puts away his sword.

"So I found the dwarf, now what?" he thinks to himself. Avon is confused by the current situation. First of all the fact that he is still alive baffles him. Then there is the fact that there are only two orcs, not much of an army, where is the rest. And finally the woman wants to barter with him. "Why doesn't she kill me?" is all he can think of.

His eyes light up when he hears to woman talk about naming his price. His attitude switches from tense to relaxed.  Avon, leans against the nearby rock wall in what he hopes looks like casual posture.

"To be honest with you, threatening might actually work on me. Unfortunately I am not alone and I guess the others are not very sensitive to these kind of things." he says casually. "Oh, before you or your friends here get any ideas, they're also not very sensitive towards me. So having me as ransom might actually give you more trouble than it's worth." he continues. "So now the question is how can we benefit from each other so that we all go our ways, as happy people. But I guess we must hurry because I could swear I heard someone come down the passage." he says putting his arms behind his head and leaning back, praying that bluffing is the right thing to do.

He cannot see her face clearly, but Avon hears the small laugh in her voice.  "Of course, of course, Mr. Adventurer," Says the hooded woman.  "I'm sure you have lots and lots of companions.  Eight, I think, eh?"  She pauses... "Why don't you come a few steps closer, so that I might see you better."  Avon thinks he can just barely make out the gleam of the lantern's light off her teeth as she smiles.

"I assume that either your group has taken Jarg out... or that he will be on your back in a second and take YOU out.  In either case, I do not care.  I will pay the same 5,000 in gold to whoever is here when my associates arrive.  And you may be sure that they WILL arrive soon, and your army of eight will not stand against a full troop of the Arm of the Mark."

Avon sees a flicker in the faces of the orcs holding the crossbows at her casual mention that Jarg's group may have been taken out.

"But if you see that I and my friend here, " she jerks the head of the dwarf prisoner back, exposing his throat even more and showing the point of her dagger at his jugular, "are taken care of for the next few days, you will have earned your pay.  I do not care who I pay it to, after all.  That's a fair offer, dont you think?  More than double what his miserable father will pay, even if you could manage to wipe his nose and bring him home."

She goes on: "And while we're being honest about our respective values to our respective groups, remember this.  An agent of the Arm that is killed is ~always~ revenged, as you know.  And even if you were to somehow overpower me, and take this snotnose edling back, The Arm will know who it was that took it's prize away.  We have a ~very~ long reach and an even longer memory."

Avon walks and talks and keeps moving toward the woman who fascinates him. She talks of money -- lots of it -- and he's fascinated. The fact that she is female and in such a position of power, fascinates him. He walks a little taller .. straighter .. as he walks.

Slowly she takes a step away from the dwarf as she talks. Her voice takes on a sing-song, hypnotic quality, but Avon does not notice. The dwarf prisoner stands calmly without any sign of struggle. Her voice becomes soothing... more quiet. She makes a small gesture with her free hand.

Avon finds his attitude toward her changing -- at first he may have wanted to overpower her.. or to escape.. or take her money and trick her in some way. But now he feels more positive about what she is saying. He believes that it really WOULD be best to take her money and help her and protect her and aid in her plans. That would be the safest ... most profitable ... and what does he care of this foolish dwarven prince, in any case?

She waits as Avon approaches. Finally she takes a step toward him, placing a warm hand on his arm. Her eyes are a very dark brown as she looks into his eyes. "I hope you can convince your friends to help me. I need your help and theirs as well. This dwarf needs to be put safely on the ship that will be coming soon. It is important... important to *me* ... that you help me in this." Her nails scratch lightly on his arm. Then she draws away. "Do you think you should go back and talk to them alone? Don't lie to them... we need allies, not someone who will steal your and my valuable things."

Fairly confident that Dak is scared spitless and wouldn't be lying Andrew keeps him away from the worst of the tormenting. Having heard the gong resonnate through the entire complex Andrew speaks up, "I don't think we'll be sneaking up on anybody at this stage. Why not just light a few torches and make sure we don't walk into a trap? Since we weren't overrun when that gong sounded I think we can assume that Avon alerted whoever's down here and he may be in need of us fast. Besides I'm fed up to here," and motions to the top of his head, "with slinking around in the dark!"

"I can't see worth a damn in the dark, so I'll turn over the reins to our prisoner to you guys. I'll hang back in the rear of the group and
let you lead us into the black." Sandros hands the rope to Daggda, and steps back toward the rear of the group, his sword held at the ready.

Quill, however, is more then happy to stay somewhere in the middle of the group. She puts away her sword, and readies her bow, figuring she can probably at least shoot over the dwarf's head if a target presents itself.

Daggda gives up looking for alternate cave entrances. "This filth may be leading us straight into a trap, which is why he should go first," the dwarf  jabs the point of the blood-spattered pick at Dak. "No torches. I'll come in behind him, along with any of us who can see creatures in the dark. I swear, if you make one false move, I'll gut you where you stand." The blood-lust has only slightly faded from the dwarf's face, but the revulsion and hatred are still clear.

"If anyone has a bow, sleeping or missile spell, they should be with me. The prince might well be dead by now if any of these beldarak are left."

Ven is about to respond to Daggda that he has another spell left in his arsenal, but Myr speaks first, so he doesn't bother. While the group tries to determine it coures of action, Ven offers his advice. "I would consider resting, eating, and maybe even trying to sleep a little, but several things argue against it. One, I don't think I'd be able to sleep too well here knowing that a Mark's Arm assassin is lurking about. Two, Avon may be in trouble and our delay may get him turned into a vampire bugbear, or worse.

Okay, maybe not worse, but it could be bad. And, third, and most importantly, by the look on Daggda's face, any talk of not going immediately to the rescue of the prince will meet with an axe bashing. And to think he's a priest. Imagine if we'd have hooked up with a warrior!"

"I still have a missile left," Myr responds, falling in behind Dagda at his suggestion, since she's quite at a loss for what to do herself.

"If we're going to be resting and eating and whatnot... maybe we'd like to take a little gander at what's behind door number two..." She points in the direction of the kitty-kettle tunnel. "Flybreath says there's a kitty cat down there, and something cooking."

Still curious about the cat and the cauldron, but no where near brave enough to go down to investigate by herself, she continues to question Flybreath, giving him bits of apple reward. "There were no people with the cat? Just the cat? And the bubbling stuff? What about anything else - human belongings?"

The little lizard beams his thoughts back to Myr.  "There are no humans in this whole cave that I saw ... except him (Myr gets a mental picture of Ven's face).  Everybody else is ... er.. something else, or at least, that what it smells like."  He cocks his head at the mage, trying to understand her questions.  "The bubbly stuff is in a big pot on top of a very hot thing... like you use to make your food.  Although why you want to eat HOT food has always been something I do not understand.  I mean... why not eat it when it's hot in the first place--before it's dead!  That would be hot AND juicy and ..."  His thoughts trail off into images of carnivorous fun.

Then he comes back to Myr's questions..."Belongings?  Things like you have?  Yes, I guess there were some.  But I wasnt really looking for that.  You asked me to count those orcy-peopley-ones.  So I was counting them.  It was hard to keep track of how many twos of them there were, but I think I got it right. ... And then I got almost POUNCED by that cat, and I kind of lost track for a while, but then I think I remembered all of them and..."  His thoughts run down and he's busy for a while, munching on apples.

Daggda scowls at Ven. "I _am_ a warrior. And a priest. And who are you calling 'he'?" The dwarf's scowl turns into a smirking smile, and the dark black eyes glitter mischieviously.

"Pardon me, Daggda--uh, Ms. Dagga?--I should have guessed that such a fierce companion couldn't be 'just' a kindly priest. So, uh, back to this 'he' stuff, have I been missing something all along here about Dwarf anatomy?"
Ven throws his hands up. "This is great, I now have a vampire bugbear AND a transvestite Dwarf for friends. Mom would be so proud."

Sandros frowns at the vampire statement, and says, "I don't see any problem with being a vampire bugbear..." He smiles a moment, then turns to Daggda.  Snickering, Sandros says, "Don't forget a talking mule. We're an equal opportunity adventuring group." He smiles widely.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, waitwaitwait... back up a minute..." Myr turns her head to look at Daggda, as if a different angle might prove more revealing. You're not a he-dwarf?"

"Not hardly," Daggda chuckles. "I told you so when I introduced myself- I am Daggda, Daul of Grim, Blood of Hizak- oh," her eyes widen with the sudden realization.

"You don't know 'daul'- what's the word in the common tongue... Daughter!"

She sighs with relief. "But it's an odd day indeed that a dwarf-woman travels above ground, so I'm not surprised you all couldn't tell the difference."

She turns towards Myridian and continues, "And besides, usually we women stay clean-shaven, but the Priesthood of Moradin requires it. It's sort of a polite way of saying, 'No Girls Allowed.'" Looking at the stunned expressions on the faces of Veneron, Sandros, and Myridian, she turns back towards the tunnel, laughing devilishly. "Thought I was a man! HA HA!!!"

Tavarak looks on as Daggda, Ven, Sandros and Myr banter back and forth. Yes truly a strange group on companions he mutters to himself. As the dwarf heads off down the tunnel Tav comments, "I can't believe you three didn't see that she was female, why its as plain as udders on a cow!"

Sandros snorts, nearly choking on his own saliva. "If I had seen anything as plain as udders, believe me, I'd have known..." He laughs a long while over that one. Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he says breathlessly, "Whoo...this is...just...too...funny..." He starts to laugh again.

Turning the Bard shakes his head and heads off down the passage way, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes I agree, lets use some light. It's not as if whoever is down there doesn't know that we are here. And worst case scenario we can always try and bluff our way outta this one. Now lets go and find that thief of ours.

Daggda gives up looking for alternate cave entrances. "This filth may be leading us straight into a trap, which is why he should go first," the dwarf jabs the point of the blood-spattered pick at Dak. "No torches. I'll come in behind him, along with any of us who can see creatures in the dark. I swear, if you make one false move, I'll gut you where you stand." The blood-lust has only slightly faded from the dwarf's face, but the revulsion and hatred are still clear. "If anyone has a bow, sleeping or missile spell, they should be with me. The prince might well be dead by now if any of these beldarak are left."

The group follows Daggda down the corridor:  Daggda & Tav (holding a torch aloft)  in the first rank, followed by Quill and Veneron, with Andrew, Myridian and Sandros at the back.  

Going slowly and carefully, looking for signs of Avon-body-parts or traps, they cover about 150 yards when they hear and see someone running toward them.  It's Avon!

[Avon]   "Whew! There you are!!  I thought you were going to be right behind me.   What in the world took you so long?"  He is somewhat out of breath from running.

"Anyway ... I found the Prince!  Or at least he might be the prince.  I could not get close enough to see for sure.  He was being guarded by that spell caster -- remember the one who sent the purple magic war hammer at us?  Well...she is taking care of him.  He's fine, I guess.  Doesn't seem to be hurt.  Or maybe he is a prisoner.  In any case, I spoke with her."  He leans against the wall, and fishes in his pack for a waterskin.  After a long drink, he continues.

"She wants to offer us a *large* amount of money to guard her, and the dwarf who is with her."  Avon casts a sideways look at Daggda, to gauge her reaction.  "Tav, Sandros... "  He looks at the others in the party.  "... I think we should probably do it.  I mean there are several reasons."  He ticks them off on his fingers.  "One.  It is 5000 gold and that is a lot of cash.  Two.  There is no way to get the dwarf away from her -- not alive.  You cant sneak up on the room from anywhere else, and she said she would kill him before she would let us take him.  Three.  She is a powerful spell-caster -- I dunno what kind.  And if we try to fight her, on her turf and her terms... well I dont know if we could win... probably not without getting some of us killed.  Four.  She says... and I for one believe her... that she is Mark's Arm.  That even if we succeeded in killing her, we would be marked for death for ever.  And lastly.  Five. "  He closes his fingers into a fist.  "She said there is a troop of Marks Arm coming here *SOON* and they will either kill us or pay us."

There is a bright glint of torch-light reflecting from Avon's eyes.  "So.. I think we should do it.  I mean... She's good looking and -- even it may sound immodest -- I think she's kind of fallen for me.  So I might have some influence with her.  I kind of told her that I was the leader of our group -- I mean I had to say SOMEthing -- and I know she was impressed.  She's holding all the cards... AND she is holding the Prince... if he is the prince.  I mean... maybe we're down here and it isn't even the prince!  Have you thought  about that?"

He pauses... then goes on.  "So, here's what I suggest.  We're all tired and beat up.  -- or at least you guys are.  Why don't we get some food and some rest and I'll go back and tell Wairith that we're going to accept her offer and we'll be her protectors for a little while -- instead of Jarg's orcs.  She said she'd rather deal with honest adventurers than orc thieves anyway... and she doesn't care who she pays, so long as she gets the protection.  And honestly, I dont think she cares who she kills either.  Okay?"

He gets up and looks around, slinging his pack back on.  "I know we can trust her...  HEY! I've had a lot of experience in trying to fool people and I can tell, ok?  She even gave me this map of the caverns.  Food's back that way.  There's places to sleep up where Jarg's men were here..." He points at the map.  "And she said there was LOTS of food over in the room with the crates where we came in." 

"I'll run back and tell Wairith what we decided and meet you back in the sleeping room. Right?!"

[OOC: The name Wairith is not familiar to any of the group.  The attached map is the one Avon presents.  It is on a scrap of parchment, roughly drawn by hand. -- Avon's map does not have the back-door tunnel thru which the party entered the caves, but -- for simplicity-- I have left it on the map.  ]