Turn 91 -- Burial Rights

There was once a time where Gnore would not have hesitated in slaying this collection of bile, females or not. Perhaps his time with the Red Feather Company has tempered his wild soul, sworn to destroy all orcs and goblins alike. Whatever the reason may be, Gnore finds his yearning to kill the remaining female orcs absent. Addressing the 'lead' orcish female in her own tongue, Gnore directs his bastard sword in the direction of the orcish women. "Leave here and never return! Leave your necklace or none of you will survive your first step! If you ever return, I will be waiting!" Gnore smiles wickedly and watches to see if the lead orcish woman will comply will all his demands. If not, he is fully prepared to make good his threat.

Ortho, brandishing the distinctive axe of the fallen orc chieftain, steps forward as if to emphasize Gnore's words. He too points for the women to leave but remains alert for any trickery.

Snagger balls his hands into tight fists. He scowls deeply, ready to kill the orcs at any second. Seeing the reaction of the party, he decides to hold back, the group saved his life so whatever they want to do he will go along with.

As the female orc converses with the rest of the cowering females in the cavern, Dain eyes the women thoughtfully before speaking his mind, "I wonder if there is some way to sterilize the lot of them without actually killing them. As for the children, I'm afraid we've lost them. It's a pity the males will grow up to rape our women and pillage our villages. Bah! It is of no use. There will always be orcs to plague this earth no matter what we do." The mage turns away from the women and walks to take a seat on a nearby rock outcropping, his pipe leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

Talimar thinks about running his sword through these creatures, or cleansing the cavern with a fireball. As everyone seems to want to let them live, even the bloodthirsty dwarves, the elf buries his genocidal impulses regretfully.

"I say we kill 'em!" speaks up Druckner as he walks forward to make his mind known. "They'll spawn some more of these filth who'll go on slaying dwarves, humans and other good folk. But first, let's find out where they're holding the prisoner." The fiery dwarf lets his axe lead him as he steps forward to address the woman in Common.

"Prisoner in cave there," she answers in Common as she points to the passageway leading from the cavern to the southwest. The words and threat from Druckner push the female to a decision as she reaches up and unfastens the necklace allowing it to fall to the ground. "We leave now. We know nothing more." She motions the other women to begin leaving the chamber from the passage the companions came down earlier. She watches the group watch them leave until the last of the orc women have exited the chamber before she turns to join them.

With the defenseless women exiting the chamber, the other companions turn back to more important matters, namely the pool in the cavern. Looking at the pool, Ortho calls to Ras, "Ras, ye wouldn't be willin' ta swim down an' take a looksee into them holes now, would ye? That might be where the treasure is."

Ras turns to Snagger, "Do you know where your equipment is?" Seeing the look of doubt and shake of the dwarves head, Ras makes preparations to make the dive into the pool. He removes his backpack and ties several empty pouches to his belt and also keeps his daggers attached to his belt. "If I find anything living on the other side I will kill it." Taking a long rope from his backpack, he ties on end around his waist and hands the other to Ortho. "Ok, here I go, count to ninety and if I haven't signaled by tugging twice pull me out as quick as possible. If I tug once pull me out immediately. Also, will you please tug once when you reach 45 in your count so I know I need to get back soon." Before he is about to jump in though, he turns back, "I don't know much about magic but do any of you wizards or clerics have help you might give me?"

Ortho ponders a moment before replying, "Ah think Ah might have sometin' ta help ye." He drops the end of the rope and closes his eyes before whispering a soft prayer. He opens his eyes and points to Ras' belt buckle which instantly begins to glow brightly. "There ye go, a little light ta lead yer way."

Ras smiles at Ortho, "Thank you. I don't mean to tell anyone what to do but maybe someone should do an ID spell on those items we found and decide who gets what so they aren't going to go to waste if we run into some trouble. Maybe I can find some more goodies also," he adds with a broad grin.

The small halfling moves to the edge of the pool as Ortho once again picks up his end of the rope. Taking several quick breaths to clear and expand his lungs, Ras finally takes a deep breath before jumping off into the pool. As he hits the water he is instantly struck by the cold force of the subterranean waters. The shock of the water almost causes the halfling to gasp for air once again. Panic begins to set in as the force of the water reminds Ras of the trapped chest that almost cost him his life outside the Parlfray Keep. Fighting back the panic, Ras regains control as he slowly begins to swim down toward the tunnels. The effort of swimming causes his limbs and the rest of his body to rise momentarily in temperature, his blood coursing throughout his body to warm him somewhat.

Ortho slowly lets out the slack in the rope as he watches the light from Ras' buckle dive toward the exit tunnel. Counting quietly to himself, Ortho watches the light disappear into the tunnel with the halfling. Talimar keeps his sword in hand while Ras goes swimming, wincing at the thought of how these orcs have probably fouled the waters. The other companions turn to look about the cavern again.

Across the chamber Garth stands guards at the exit the orc women took from the chamber. His spirit is fatigued and he shows no interest in the search for booty. He strains his ears as if to hear if the orcs approach Randor's body. After a thoughtful moment, a pained and worried look comes over his face. Turning to face his friends, the ever thoughtful Garth asks, "Umm, what's to be preventing them," this he indicates with a jerk of his stubby thumb pointing down the way the women have fled, "from collapsing the tunnel with us on the wrong side of it?"

Garth thinks for a moment on his companions question and then smiles, "If the only way out is the way we came in, then I think Ras' traps will have those filth thinking twice about crossing us. Then again, orcs aren't known for their smarts." Gnore rubs his chin, hidden under his ample beard, "Hmm, I've given me word that they'll not suffer sight of my blade again unless they venture back this way, ignoring my threat. Of course, if anyone wants to escort the 'ladies' out of these caves, be my guess and take them a fist full of smell roses while you're at it." Gnore once again fills the caverns with the special sound of his own laughter.

As Gnore's laughter reverberates throughout the chamber, the other companions seem unconcerned with the orcs betraying them, turning their attention to the search for more treasure. Garth shrugs his shoulders and maintains his guard on the exit.

"Hey Druck," calls Ortho to his friend as he continues to let out the line for Ras, "since only me an' ye can use an axe, and yoo've already got that crossbow with it's magical bolts, is there any chance ye'd let me keep the axe? It is your call an' Ah'll do what ye say since by rights the axe is yours if you wish. Ah just seem ta be in the thick o' the fighting a bit more than ye," Ortho asks a wee bit sheepishly.

Druckner smiles as he walks over to join Ortho, "Ortho, how much magical loot have ya got? I've only got the bow and bolts. Ye've got them fancy flyin' wings at least. If ye've got anythin' else, I'll claim the axe. If not, ye can keep it. Fair is fair. Or else, give me the wings, I'll make good use of 'em, more'n you have 'nyways."

"Aw, Druck, ye know Ah haven't had a chance ta try out ma wings. An' Ah don' think Ah want ta part with 'em just yet," answers Ortho with a deep frown on his face. "Now, Ah do have this new shield which has been helpful but Ah'd gladly trade ye the shield fer the axe. What do ye say ta that? Of course, Ah certainly understand if ye'd rather keep the axe an' fight the big nasties up close yerself. Also, if ye prefer somethin' a bit more 'fun' than a simple shield, Ah would also be willin' to trade ye this group o' magical potions fer the axe."

Taking a moment from releasing line for Ras, Ortho rummages in his pack pulling forth a number of sealed flasks. "Let's see, this one is 'healing'. Ah think you could stand to have this handy, don't you?" he asks with a broad grin for his companion. "An' this one is 'flying'. You'll find a way to use this, Ah'm sure. An' this last potion is 'polymorph'. That is certainly up yer alley, old boy. Three potions fer the axe, or a shield fer the axe. Either trade catch yer eye, Druck?"

"In that case, I'll take the axe," answers Druckner. "The shield would only cramp me style and the potions are nice but not worth a fine axe such as this."

"Aw, I was afraid ye'd say that," replies Ortho with a frown. "Guess that means Ah'm bein' forced to cast spells."

"Pah!" curses Gnore. "No matter what good use comes of this taint, the stench of the accursed orcs still lingers. The rest of you can have the lot if that is what you want but I'll have none of it." Gnore stabs with a stubby finger at the loot taken from the dead orcs. He walks off towards the pool and taps his foot anxiously. "Where is that damn halfling!"

"He'd better be at the other end of me rope," answers Ortho as he continues to let the slack out of the rope.

"You're got it all wrong Gnore mate," answers Druckner to Gnore's tirade. "Reclaiming all this stolen loot is good work. With all this, we'll be able to equip the company proper and be better at being badder, eh!"

This last comment presents an idea to Ortho, "Hey Garth. Get that scroll off of Randor's body. One of us should have it and Ah think it makes more sense in yer hands since Ah seem more likely ta be fightin' up front. Okay? An' what about Randor's magical chainmail? Do we bury him in it? Do ye think it would be okay with him if we sold it? Otherwise, Ah think some priest of Tyr we don't know will be wearin' it before long if we don't. Anybody got an idee on this?" asks Ortho as he looks about the group.

"31, 32, 33, 34, 35....44, 45! Time to tug!" Ortho gives a good tug on the rope as per Ras' request.

"I for one feel that, unless specified while living, we should bury Randor in his rightful garb. Robbing dead companions just doesn't set well with me stomach," answers Dain.

"Aye, if WE bury him. If we turn him over to the temple, THEY will bury him in some priestly robe and his armor will fall to some other member of the order. It is just too valuable to part with. Ah say we sell it. Who else has an opinion?" queries Ortho once again.

Druckner nods, "Aye, when me grand-daddy Harbin passed away we certainly didn't bury his great warhammer with him. My pa took it as he should!" Druckner shakes his head, "It ain't showing Randor no disrespect to keep the armor. Although you would know more about human customs than I, Dain."

Dain notices his pipe out and takes it out to light once again, taking the time to think a moment before replying to Druckner, "As for human custom, things vary from land to land. If he would have had a son, the decision would have been an easy one. I guess in this circumstance it all boils down to Randor's commitment. Was he more committed to his religious order or this company? Therein lies the answer to whom should acquire his armor."

Trying to remain quiet through this conversation, Kersath can hold his rage no longer, "I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing! Stripping down an honorable human being, a former companion of his possessions and SELLING them?! Are we no better than those dung-filled orcs that care not for their comrades and would sooner strip each other of their skins if it would bring a profit? Randor's possessions were his in life, and as far as I'm concerned, they will remain his in death! A proper burial for a person who gave his life to help and bring justice to others is the least we can do for him! He will not got to face his maker without his hard-earned armor and weapon! And whoever wants to act like a barbaric goblin will have to face me."

There is no mistaking the flare in his green eyes. To emphasize how serious he is, Kersath's hands find rest on the hilts of his swords.

"Oh, stop over-reacting!" bellows Druckner. "Seems to me you are the barbaric one for wanting to fight your mates over something like this! I stand by what I said, and I won't be intimidated by an elf!" Druckner turns away and refuses to take up Kersath on his challenge.

"Will not be intimidated by an elf, eh?" offers Kersath. "How about the elf's swords then? Are they more to your liking?" Turning to the rest of the group, he continues, "I do not want to fight you. You are the only thing resembling a family I've got but I will stand by my beliefs. He had no sons and his possessions should be buried with him. If you cannot calm your greed for even one instance and especially since we are talking here about the death of a comrade to arms, then it appears I have greatly mistaken this group to be a noble one."

"Is that your best argument then, your swords?" Druckner shrugs. "What's your definition of noble, elf? For dwarves it's a rich family close to the king, maybe you wouldn't like or share their values, eh? Anyways, I also think this group is like family, and like family, you take people like they are, whether they're over-emotional or greedy, eh? But I have a very great dislike for people who try to impose their values with their swords, they are sometimes called noble, but to me they are only bullies."

Shaking his head in disappointment, Kersath replies, "It is a pity that you interpret my meaning as the one of a bully. I said I do not want to fight. There are more and better things to fight for, more worthy causes than this silly argument." The others can see that Kersath is as quick to heat in rage as he is to cool down. "The only thing I intended to say was that I would stand by my beliefs. The cleric was always a kind of guiding point to me with his unfaltering belief in justice and balance. His faith was unshakable, and so is mine. If you wish to rob him of his rightful and proper burial, be it so. But I shall take no part in this defiling of a holy man."

"Gnore! Take this rope!" bellows Ortho to his companion. "Ah got work to do." Ortho hands the end of the rope to Gnore. "Ye're on 58, start countin'. At 90 start pullin' fer all yer worth."

Turning from Gnore, Ortho bellows, "Children! Stop! Ah'll not 'ave any more o' this foolishness. Druck, ye keep yer mouth shut fer a moment, eh? Now friend Kersath, Ah am the one who suggested taking the armor from Randor. If ye feel ye need to draw swords against anyone here then ye'd best draw against me. But consider yer course carefully 'cause the fight'll end with me shovin' em back down yer pants!" Ortho plants himself in front of Kersath, ready for whatever the elf chooses.

As Gnore takes the line given to him by Ortho, the scruffy dwarf grins the widest smile yet. He barely contains his laughter as the argument only increases.

Ortho ignores the broad grin of his fellow dwarf and seeing no reaction from Kersath, continues, "Ah guess we should be thankful there is nobody here that can use the armor else this discussion might take a different path. Since there is not, we, the Red Feather Company, have a decision. It is not your decision, nor mine, nor Druck's. It is ours! WE will decide, or if Talimar wishes to make the call, we will ALL follow Tal's decision as we have pledged afore. Now, your customs are different from Druckner's but ye should still respect his, and mine as a fellow dwarf. Taking arms or armor from the dead to help the living is a practical and not uncommon occurrence among us dwarves. As our race is in decline we must do what we must do to survive. Ah know ye can understand that."

"My original question was, do WE bury Randor or do we take him to the Temple of Tyr to be buried? If we choose to bury him, then Ah am willing to let him be buried in his armor as nobody here can use it. On the other hand, if we take him to the temple, it is MY opinion that we remove Randor's armor as the Temple will bury him in his holy robes. The armor will then reside either in the Temple's treasure room or on the back of some other priest. Ah think the selling of the armor, or the keeping of it for one we deem worthy, is a more useful course for the purposes of the RFC. That is my belief. Randor was a worthy companion an' Ah will not see him dishonored. Burying him ourselves would seem most appropriate. But letting his armor rust in the Temple's treasury does not serve Randor or us."

"Ah think Ah have revealed my opinion on this matter. It may be that Tal or the group disagrees with me an' chooses to do otherwise. Ah can live with that. Can YOU live by Talimar's or the group's decision? If so, keep yer swords sheathed. If not, then here Ah am. Ah will enforce order in our Company if need be." Ortho, somewhat amazed at his own verbosity pauses for a moment to catch his breath. There is an eery silence over the entire party as everyone thinks about the situation and the words of the dwarf.

"One more thing, to all of you," says Ortho as he surveys the Company. "Ah had me differences with Beleg because he tried ta force us ta live by his personal code. This Company, as Ah understand it, is an adventuring company, not a religious order nor a tyranny. We have pledged to work together and to respect one another's beliefs and experiences. Talimar is our elected leader. Anybody who feels they must force their will upon the Company for any reason other than the Company's good shall find himself at odds with me."

Smiling, Ortho bows low to the assemblage then returns to take the rope back from Gnore, "What number are ye on?"

Frowning at the threats and arguments going back and forth, Talimar makes a comment, "Why is there all this fuss about Randor's body? The spirit has gone, all that is left behind is a decomposing lump of flesh. Randor certainly no longer needs any gear. I see no dishonor in others using his gear and armor. In fact, it would be an honor to Randor's spirit to see his armor continuing to protect those who fight against evil. As to taking the body back, why? Any ceremony is to honor the spirit on it's journey, and to recall the memories of our friend. The body is only a symbol, not the focus."

Finally, when the calm reasoning of Talimar is heard, only then does Gnore speak up.

"Ha! So the tainted baubles of the orish filth does nothing to curse our company, eh? Although the talk focuses on Randor's armor and burial, it sparked from the loot of the dung-eaters. We should have ignored the pile of rubbish as I first stated," Gnore smiles as he views each member, then he takes on a more serious tone.

"I'll not pretend to speak in wisdom but of the rules we as a company set for ourselves. It was my understanding that all special equipment gathered by the company remain property of the company and each member was allowed to borrow any item he could use, with the group's permission of course. If someone could not use an item any longer, then it would go back into the company's pool and made use of by the company's decision. That was my understandin' on why we have a communal treasury and the reason why Ortho's first magic shield was given to the goblins in trade for their magic ring. If I am wrong, or things have changed, let me know as I am but a simple warrior." Gnore stops and pulls free his bastard sword.

"Me, personally...it would be a shame to imprison this fine blade under dirt and rocks should I die. Weapons and armor yearn to seek adventure just as much as the living beings do. It is sad that other races do not understand this aspect like dwarven kin do but I guess that is what makes us dwarves, eh?" Gnore remarks for everyone to hear. Sheathing his blade, he hands the rope to Ortho with a frown.

"Eh, somewhere near 72....I think."

As the debate rages as to the distribution or Randor's goods and his burial, Ras continues his swim through the exit tunnel. Just before Ortho tugs the rope once for reaching 45, he comes out of the tunnel into another pool and chamber a number of yards underground from the other one. This one appears to be no different from any of the other chambers in the mining complex. Using his heightened vision as he quietly treads in the water, Ras can find nothing else in the cavern. Swimming to the edge of the pool, he finds the place where the orc children must have exited from the pool as well. There are numerous tracks leading from the pool amid a heavily dampened area. Looking at the tracks, Ras can see that they left several hours before him and would be well beyond him now.

Taking a quick search of the smaller chamber, Ras can find no other exits beyond the one to the east leading from the cavern. The orc footprints all lead this way. Knowing that this must be another exit from the mines but one that is inaccessible to his companions, he reluctantly enters the water again. Repeating his breathing ritual of earlier, he takes a series of short breaths before one large one and diving to the bottom of the pool again.

Just before Ortho reaches his count of 90, Ras emerges from the tunnel and makes his way to the edge of the pool. Walking out of the water, he grabs a proferred blanket from Kre. Drying himself off as much as possible, Ras waits for his teeth to stop chattering before informing the others of what he found. As he stands in front of one of the cookfires of the orcs to warm himself, he notices a strange tension among his companions. The usual jovial nature of everyone is missing and there appears to be a dark scowl on the face of Kersath.

"Wwwhaaat's gggoinggg on?" stammers Ras as he hugs the blanket around his shoulders.

Talimar quickly informs Ras of the goings on while he was exploring as Ras gets out of his wet clothes and places them on a rock by the fire; quickly putting on a fresh tunic and breeches.

"It seems that we have a vote before us," begins Talimar finally. "I will not make this decision for the group. What do each of you wish? Snagger, you will have a vote as this will affect how we distribute things in the future. Do we bury Randor here in the caves, or return him to the Temple of Tyr in Milbourne? If we bury him here, do we take any valuable possessions from his person first?"

After Talimar finishes, Garth speaks up for the first time on the matter, "As far as the armor is concerned, ye can forget about it. Ah don' know if ye've have forgotten the manner in which Brother Randor left us but that beast ripped a massive hole in his chest," a shiver runs through the body of Garth as he remembers Randor suspended in the air with Garundzer's mighty spear running through his body. "The armor would be useless to anyone with the damage that it took. As far as the other things, we can vote on them, I suppose."

"Well, what say you all?" asks Talimar of the companions.