 Goblins, etc. By: Jhaelryna Frowning at the reports, Gunklob the goblin chieftan spat on the ground. Within the last several hours, more than a dozen goblins had fallen to their adversaries. "Bah! Dem dwarfses be payin fer dis, I be finkin!" Gunklob sat down and pulled out the map that the drow had prepared for him. The chieftan peered carefully at the parchment and compared the map with the reports of the missing scouts. Gunklob was clever for a goblin, and soon he had a working plan of action. He hooted in glee, and summoned his henchmen. "Da dwarfses be down here in wee groups. Dey probly be lookin fer more miffril and jools. We gots ta sweep tha dwarfs afore they gets bak to da other dwarfses. We sweeps out heres and heres" He pointed to the map, and the other goblins crowded in to peer at the paper. Gunklob indicated several key locations on their map. "We takes dese inntrasekshuns here and here and here. Den da dwarfses be in pocketses. Dey caint get back ta dere friends or get tagether ta defends emmselfs! We den skweese da pocketses whar da dwarfs be at. Dey won' be gettin bak ta dere frends. " Several of the bosses understood the plan, and nodded their heads eagerly. Several others stared blankly at the map, attempting to comprehend their leader's plan. "Goh!! Ya stoopid gits!!" swore Gunklob, "We be surroundin da dwarfses! Then we be skwooshin dere 'eads!!" Even the most dim goblin could understand THAT plan, and soon all of the chiefs of the goblins were preparing their bands to move out and sieze the critical intersections. The deployment of the goblin horde was costing them time. Crucial time that the dwarven city needed to prepare. Every minute that the patrols delayed the goblins was another precious minute that Nystramo so desperately needed in order to mobilize the dwarves of Clan Axepeak. Now that he knew the dwarves were near, Gunklob took the time to check his weapons and armor. His suit of armor was handed down from chieftan to cheiftan. In a long forgotten war, his ancestor Baktor the Wild lead a successful war against a dwarven city. Among the war booty that Baktor captured was the suit of mithril armor...taken from the body of the dead dwarven king. That armor saved Baktor and his descendants time and time again. "Me lukky armer" cooed Guklob as he ran his hands over the mail. Gunklob was so entranced with his armor, that he failed to notice the subtle change that was coming over his falchion. The chieftan had no way of knowing what his weapon's potentials were. The drow that had given it to him simply told him that it was special, and very magical. The nearness of the dwarves had begun to awaken the falchion after centuries of sleep. Direblood the dwarf-slayer began to become aware again. It sensed it's enemies, and began to glow a dull red. Hungry for blood, the sentient weapon waited patiently for its wielder to draw it. Rrindabal By: HiuFang Li Filling his lungs with the whispering air of the Neverwinter Woods, HiuFang Li glanced at the silvery moon which hung like a lantern in the dusky sky overhead. Letting loose a soft sigh, he took his first step down the steep of the Lonely Mountain, looming, iron-grey doors standing massively behind him. Shooting a glance back at the doors, he signalled to the stiff dwarves standing sentinel in the shrubbery flanking the doors. A final nod, and he glided further down the path, to be engulfed by leafy giants. Peering at the dancing lights flickering through the greasy window pane, the darkly-clad dwarf floated past the swinging doors of the tavern. Beady little eyes turned to stare at the figure, which stepped noiselessly through the mess of tables, stools, and stoutly-built limbs. The small crowd was inundated with pointed caps, spectacles, and longish beards. "Lookie, lookie, a g-ghost, ghost!" gibbered one small voice. "Not a ghost, a Drow, Drow elfy!!" shrieked another, poking the figure's black clothing, and shrinking back. "No no no no, you idiots.. no ghost, no Drow, too short. Hahaha! It's a dwarf!" yelled the last voice, a little too close to the dwarf's ear. Swatting away the prodding fingers, the dwarf bellowed, "Ha, you rascals! Of course.. 'tis I, HiuFang Li!!" Pulling away the tight cloth about his face, HiuFang scanned the tavern, looking from astonished faces, to laughing faces, to sullen faces. With eyes sparkling, he worded carefully, "I have an offer available for every one of you, my clever cousins.." Fingering the strings of a leathern jewel-bag he withdrew from a small pocket, he continued to scan the chamber with a funny gleam in his eye. "And which one of you knows of the Temple of Lloth?" Defending the Mount By: Baldar Hmr The sounds of a door closing and footsteps walking up to the throne roused Nystramo out of his deep thought. He was taken aback by the sight before him. Baldar stood before the Rrin Gor, dressed as the Chief had never seen him before. Gone was the standard studded leather armor and breeches of a gateguard's attire. Baldar's plate armor shone brightly, clearly having been polished to an almost mirrorlike sheen. Not ordinary Plate, either. Nystramo looked the Grunt over from top to bottom. His head was encased in a open-faced helm, with a 4-inch metal spike topping. The entire suit bristled with spikes at the elbows and knees, and the forearm bracers had some sort of long stilleto-blade embedded in them, for rending and tearing. "Aye Rrin Gor, dis nae be designed fer stealth or fer sneaking up on an enemy unawares." "Dis be a suit for a Dwarven Battlerager ta fite for da life o' his Clan". "I ken I is still a grunt and nae a full Kuldmordin, but I asks ye for a postin' on the vanguard of our army. Chief, I has lived wot little o' me free life wit dis Clan, and I ken wot its like ta be a slave o' dem Spider-kissers. Ifn dey is involved with dis goblin horde marchin' on da mount, ye ken be suren they nae be far behind. I 'as me nae taerin, no hearth ta return ta, so I asks ye ta let me take tha place o' one dat does." "I has sworn an oath of vengence agin' da darklins fer wot dey dun to me, and I wants a chance ta pays 'em back. I promise ye, If'n ye gives me tha order ta hold my position when tha hordes come chargin' on us, I'll nae retreat. I 'as no fonder wish den ta meet me raugh surrounded by a score o' dead darklins." Baldar went down on one knee before the Rrin Gor, and awaited his response... Re:Defending the Mount By: Nystramo Nystramo considered Baldar's request carefully. True, the lad was not yet Kuldmorndin, but there was no doubting his courage or conviction. Who was he to refuse such a brave request? "Baldar, I kinna says nae ta ye. Finds Moradinson an' tells 'em ta fin' a place fer ye in tha fron' gaurd." As Baldar nodded and turned to go, Nystramo had one final thing to say. "If'n we be seein' battle in the mount, lad, I ken I kin be countin' on ye. Ma' yer kin proud." Returning Home By: D1AMOND After several days of searching, D1amond walked away from yet another dead end. She was starting to lose what little patience she had left. Her search for Starkadh had led her from dive to dive, from one suspicious barmaid to another. All of whom had not seen or heard from Stark for months, but were able to direct D1 to try yet another inn or tavern farther away. Sitting down on the front stoop of the latest inn, D1 rested her chin in her hands and looked out over the town that was now Port LLast Harbor. It had grown much since the great change in the realms, but it had not developed nicely. Instead of well built homes and shops, there were shanties and small merchandise stands. There were obvious attempts to clean things up in other sections of the harbor, but this part of the docks was attracting the less than respectable types. Which didn't bother D1amond either way, a profit was a profit after all. With a sigh of frustration, she started making her way home to the Mount. This was taking too long, and although she knew that something was wrong with Stark, she couldn't stay away from her responsibilities back home any longer. There were boxes and belongings to unpack in her new digs, not to mention the new shop in RRindabal. Then there was Tigguhr to check up on, and papers piling up unfiled in Nystramo's office. The thought of Nystramo brought a warm smile to her face, but her eyes were full of concern. D1 had time to think over all the happenings at the Mount lately, and she was beginning to worry for Nystramo. If someone was going to go to all the trouble to set up an assassination on Nys once, then they would probably try it again and that caused D1 great concern. Nystramo was a smart man and a great leader, like it or not, surely he had thought of this too by now and posted a guard around himself or at least some type of added protection. This was the first thing she would see to once she returned to the Mount, if she had to guard Nys around the clock personally. D1's smile grew wider, that idea definitely had merit. D1amond mentally chastised herself, this was no time to be thinking of romance when her kin were being killed and more could be even now facing the enemy head on. Angry at those that had killed her kin and the thought of a good battle made D1amond walk faster as she made her way back home. Re: Clan Axepeak Crest By: Nystramo Nystramo put down the hammer and admired the handiwork, both his own and Starkadh's. (Like it or not, the zander was more skilled with a hammer and chisel than he himself would ever be.) The new Axepeak Crest hanging behind his desk, chiseled into an enormous slab of granite, was the final touch to his new office. No denying it now, this was his office, his position, his reponsibility. And what a time to be thrust back into command. Duergar, goblins, and drow attacking the mount. Maybe. It had been quiet recently, but Nystramo knew better than to be complacent. Runners had informed him that Dwyvrn's patrol was harrying the goblin patrol, slowing their progress considerably, and even now reinforcements were being made ready to meet the horde head on. Even with this, things were quiet. The kuldar had been selected, provisions stored, and the mount prepared for siege, should it come to that. He had even drilled the kin for the one measure that all hoped to avoid, but would be enacted should the need arise: collapsing all of the tunnels leading into the mount, both from above and below. Only a select few knew this was even possible, and even fewer knew how it was to be accomplished, if ever. He had discussed it with Dwyvyrn, HiuFang Li, Moradinson, and Patroc1us. All agreed that now was not the time to make such a decision, but everyone also agreed that they should be ready, just in case. Drow were not a race to be taken lightly. He dreaded this decision, not the least because he knew that it was his responsibility alone. Gruff as his kin were toward humans and elves, many of the clan, including himself, had ties to the outside world, and restoring the collapsed tunnels would be a chore requiring years to complete. Still, he thought with a slight grin, more than a few darklings would be taken out by the falling rock. His work done for the day (he had saved hanging the crest for last, as a reward for himself), he stepped out of his office, planning on spending an hour or so in the common room with his kin. He frowned slightly as his personal gaurds, recently doubled, fell in line behind him. He didn't like the precaution, but Moradinson had insisted, and he couldn't fault the wisdom of it. Now was not the time for Axepeak to lose its chief to an assassin's dart. As he walked he caught a glimpse of Rrindabal through an open tunnel. The settlement's rapid growth amazed him still. Even now, at this late hour, it was teeming with the activity of dwarves, gnomes, and halflings. Another responsibility, he thought, but not one he grudged. He was not one of those dwarves who shunned the outside world. He knew the continued vitality of his clan depended on Neverwinter and its surrounding towns, for reasons of trade and socialization both. The infusion of new ideas and the constant competition kept his kin hard at work, and gave them someone to curse over their forges. Being an aggressive race, dwarves needed competition to thrive. Without competition there was stagnation or, worse, infighting. Nystramo's grin widened, and he decided that perhaps the common room could wait for a bit. He had heard that a certain gnome had created a new variety of ale, one that was popular among the kin. Perhaps it was time for the chief to get a taste. A Small Skirmish... By: KAGIS The goblin hoard continued it slow approach to the mount, slowed dramatically by "magik dwarvs who pop up outta nowhere, den disappear affer killin us," I'd overheard a goblin sentry complain a few minutes ago. I was leaning behind a large boulder that hid me from the sentry's inspection but also allowed me to get close enough to overhear any conversation. It was a fairly small cavern, with many openings leading to twisting and confusing side passages. I had told Kelvan and Dedrac to stay back in the escape tunnel with their "axebows" ready. There's never telling when a goblin might have a stroke of genius and decide to look around a little (for a goblin sentry that would be a stroke of genius!). There were three sentries in the room and just in the past few minutes they'd gotten down to their prefered method of "watching"... playing games of bones and dice. "Finally," I thought to myself, "I was starting to think I couldn't even count on goblins to get bored anymore." I silently loaded my hand-held crossbow with a poisoned bolt and set aside two extra bolts for quick reloading. Three goblins aren't much to worry about, but I couldn't afford to get bogged down in hand-to-hand, so my little hummer would have to do the job for me. Just in case things got ugly, Kuldarau, my axe rested easily against my leg, hanging on a leather cord from a hook on my belt. I let the goblins play some more bones before making my move; letting the goblins just get to the point where they were almost fighting over who was winning. "Good," I thought, "this should be easy." Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I quickly (but smothly) turned around the boulder, aimed and fired. Almost before the bolt left my crossbow, my other hand was reloading the second bolt. "Thunk!" The first bolt hit home. Aim.... fire.... "Thunk!" The second bolt hit home and two goblins fell dead. The third goblin looked at me with fear in his eyes and quickly tossed the dice at my face... "Twang!" The third bolt missed, shattering on the wall behind the goblin. "Damn ya, ya stinker!" I bellowed... "Naw ya gots me mad." Letting the hand crossbow swing down to its place on my belt, I hefted Kuldarau and moved in on the goblin. The goblin quickly grabbed his long sword and moved to meet me. "Where ye get yer pig sticker," I asked calmly as we exchanged parries and blocks. The goblin grinned, obviously proud of his weapon... "gets it from da dark ones we dids." I blocked a feable thrust; forcing his sword out wide and low. "Tanks fer da info," I grinned as my axe cleaved the gobling in two on the backswing. I reached down and retrieved the goblins shiny mithril longsword. "Hmmpff... maybe dis be some o' da proof da elders are lookin' fer. Nae goblin be making anything with mithril, and only da drow prefer dese elfy longswords." I quickly strapped the longsword and it's sheath to my back and trotted back to where Kelvan and Dedrac were waiting for me. "Common!" I said when I met up with the two dwarves, "our werk be done in dat room... time at move on." As we navigated the twisted caverns and tunnels, taking care not to leave any tracks, I wondered if I'd get the chance to give the sword to the counsel of elders as evidence or not. The goblins were getting tougher to goad into easy battles, and they were starting to actively hunt Dwyvyrn's and my groups. "I 'ope Nys and da odders 'urry it up... donnae tink we can keep dis up much longer." Kelvan and Dedrac just nodded in agreement. Welcome Home Tackle By: D1AMOND hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhk, D1 said as she cleared her throat of road dust. She had been traveling most of the day and had just crested the hill that revealed the growing town of Rrindabal. Standing on the hill top, she surveyed the town of crafts people and traders with satisfaction. Having the shop here close to her kin was going to be a definite improvement over the dreary town of Berun, although she would miss some of her old neighbors. Readjusting the strap on her pack, D1 set off through town to check on the construction of her and Emmy's new shop. They had enjoyed planning out the new shop's design. They pretty much agreed on everything except D1 had wanted bars in front of the shop windows (Tigguhr proofing) and Emmy was still pouting over the rose bush they had left in front of the old shop. Stopping outside the shop, D1 critically looked things over. If everything has gone according to plans, the construction should almost be completed. "You'd think they'd have a bloody door on this thin' by now. Humph, contractors!" She stepped through the gaping hole where the door belonged and glanced around the inside of the shop. Emmy had special ordered granite counter tops and a tap from MoradinSon. Those were in place, along with the new work benches and tables and the glass cabinet to display the lasses finer works. "At least tha insides be 'bout finished," she said with a proud smile. "We'll have ta invite mam and pap up here ta see's it." Leaving the shop behind, D1 set off for the Mount. As she was walking through the main entrance, she saw Nystramo with a passel of body guards surrounding him, making his way from the other end of the tunnel. They greeted each other with a hug and quick kiss and D1 asks teasingly, "Whut, ye post a sentry ta run an tells ya when I got back?" As she was talking, one of the guards behind Nystramo looked around quickly . D1 glanced in the same direction in time to see a dagger flying towards Nystramo's back. Moving instinctively, she tackles Nystramo to the ground. Actions which proved not to be necessary as the diligent guard quickly throws out his shield and blocks the flight of the sailing dagger. Looking angrily down at Nystramo, who was pinned underneath her, D1 asks, "This been happening much to ye since I been away?" Freedom to Bondage By: Jaggged Hand over hand. Concentrate. One foot in front of the other. Another passage of darkness. More monsters to flee. Caverns, cliffs, ledges. Finds small nook in the rocks. Listens intently, all quiet. Rest, blessed rest. Jumping awake. What's that noise?! Dwarves? A patrol. Wicked sneer crosses face. Without second thought, draws dagger. Slowly and silently peers out from rocks. Just two. Theirs backs are turned. The two battle ready dwarves stand patiently at their posts. With a loud "OOOPH", one falls forward. His comrade looks down to see a small figure trying to embed a mithral dagger into his fallen friends back. The comrade easily bashes the figure from his kin and it falls to the ground motionless. "Wha' was that?" The comrade bends to look at the figure. "Gordul! It be a lil duergar lass." "It dead?" "No' yet." The comrade lifts his axe and makes to kill the duergar. "Wait" Whispers a small voice. "I hav' information about the attacks, if you don'na kill me." She opens her eyes and stares frankly into those of her enemy. The comrade stays his weapon. "Tell us then lass" "If I tell you wha' I know, you will then slay me. No. I will tell yur chief." "Go 'head an' kill her kin, duergar only ken how ta lie. She jus' tryin' ta save her hide." Sneering at the guard on the ground. "That may be truth slug, but then you'd never know if you were to kill me." Comrade, the smarter of the two, bent down and picked up the odd dagger the lass had wielded. It was hand made and had a razor sharp edge. "Nice dagger." He used it to cut some of his rope. He put the dagger into his belt and tied up the duergar. "We'll takes her ta tha chief when our watch be up." A Little Visitor... By: Nystramo Nystramo frowned from atop his throne.He frequently frowned on the throne, both because he felt he should and because he simply disliked having to sit on a throne in the first place. He much preferred his office, with its more comfortable chair and welcome removal from ceremony. He hated ceremony. His frowned deepened as he saw two of the mount's gaurds approaching with a small prisoner between them. It became an absolute grimace when he saw the prisoner to be a duergar. Young, to be sure, and a female, but a duergar none the less. "Why ya be bringin' a greyskin 'afore me tha' still be able ta kick?" he asked with a growl. "Well'n, chief, tha slag be sayin' she ken somethin' o' tha attacks on tha mount. We thots it bes' ta brings 'er ta ya, jes' in case," the senior gaurd replied, not at all put off by his chief's gruff manner. One of the things Nystramo liked about leading dwarves was that they weren't thin skinned. The chief nodded. "Aye, ya done well." He turned his fierce gaze on the small duergar lass. "Speaks, slag. Tell me why I shou' nae guts ya where ya stands." His tone made it clear that the threat was not made in jest. Every bit of hatred Nystramo felt for the duergar dripped from his words, and there was more hatred there than could be held by the Sea of Swords. Every instinct told him to behead her here and now, without waiting for an answer; a good answer might nescessitate sparing her life, a thought he did not relish. Still, he knew, he was chief, and he had his responsibilities. If it would help save his clan, he would listen. So he waited. Negotiations By: Jaggged Dragged about by the guards, tha duergar growled and thought to herself. I get free of the drow ta be taken captive by the gully dwarfs. Now I'm bein' taken before a chief to tell him things I have no real proof of. Maybe I get a chance to slit his throat? A little voice in the back of her head accused her. Yeah rite, you canna' even stab a surprised guard in back an' now yur thinkin' of killing their chief. You've been in a cell too long. Jaggged was dragged up before Nystramo without even realizing it because she was so busy arguing with herself. His gruff voice startled her and she stared up into his eyes. Ach! If looks coul' kill. She thought to herself. Knowing she had to do something drastic to convince this king, Jaggged turned to the guard beside her and calm |