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I'm cleaning up the session transcripts and posting them in a more polished (readable) form. I've taken the liberty of making some minor grammatical and spelling fixes, and removing a few of the more heinous redundancies.
First Session, 30 October (part one, the party and the cardinal meet, a tense peace negotiation begins):
First Session, 30 October (part one, the party and the cardinal meet, a tense peace negotiation begins):
DM: The tavern is crowded, but nowhere near as crowded as the streets outside. At first, there are no seats, but a table at the back corner opens up as a minor scuffle breaks out, and three dwarves are ejected by a large human in furs.
Anor gave a small stretch as he entered the tavern, his breastplate and the engraved phoenix gleaming in the firelight. Despite his readily apparent nature as a warrior, his weapons strapped to his back and belt were peace-tied and his bow was missing its string. He took a seat near an empty corner.
DM: The tavern is crowded, but Anor manages to claim the back corner table, recently vacated. A harried human barmaid, plump and curvy, stops by the table, her red hair slightly damp from her busy day. "Help you?"
Anor gave his scarred head a nod, "Just an ale, lass," handing her some coin to pay for it.
DM: The barmaid gives you a business-like smile, then hurries back to the kitchen. One of the dwarves at the bar leers at her, but due to his inebriated state his swipe misses her ass by yards.
Anor shakes his head as he awaits the barmaid return.
Bohzag: The door to the tavern swings open as a black-haired dwarf enters, stamping his feet and taking up a standing position near the hearth, his fur coat and hat covering much of his form, save for his travelling backpack and the musket hanging from a strap attached to it.
DM: Immediately behind the black-haired dwarf with the musket, another dwarf enters wearing a plain robe and hood. "Bohzag, I believe that armored gentleman at the corner table is another of the expedition candidates."
Anor looks up at the new arrivals, his eyes looking them over briefly.
Bohzag finishes warming his hands "Aye." he says, turning to walk towards the table, revealing the black eye-patch covering his left eye.
Gwynne: A moderately armored figure steps through the crowd and finally makes her way into the tavern. She makes no reservation of hiding her faith, wearing her holy symbol like a necklace and nor does she not hide behind a cloak or hood. Her most striking feature was her auburn hair. "This seems like the place...but where is the contact?"
Anor extends his hand to the one eyed dwarf. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan."
DM: The hooded figure orders ale for the group at the bar, joining the table and placing the drinks in front of the dwarves. Anor ends up with two drinks. "Gwynne, I presume?" The hooded dwarf looks in the newcomer's direction.
Bohzag extends his own hand to shake "Bohzag, second son of the Baumfaller family."
Gwynne: "Y...Yes sir. Forgive me for being so late." Gwynne quickly shakes the offered hand, still a little nervous from the looks of it.
Hooded Figure (DM): "Please, join us. There should be two more."
Gwynne: "Yessir."
Anor looked to the cleric. "My lady, Hello." He offers her a hand as well. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan. No need to be nervious here."
Gwynne as ordered takes one of the empty seats, leaning her mace and shield against a nearby wall, but leaving her sword on her waist. "Gwynne Coppereye. Loyal servant of our lady of war, Freya. Forgive me but this is the first time in a good while I've been outside my temples walls. And yes, my name makes little sense given my actual eye color.”
Gwynne shakes the other hand as well. "And as far as I can guess, I'm no heir or anything like that. I've been with the church as long as I remember."
Bohzag takes a pipe out of his coat and fills it, lighting it with a slight poof of smoke as he touches the tobacco with the match, before inhaling gently.
Anor gave a small nod. Turning to look at the man in the robe, "Are we all here?"
Hooded Figure (DM): "Should be one more. An angry skald, if I recall correctly."
Anor nodded, "Ah," drinking his first ale.
Gwynne: "A skald? Seems an interesting choice of companion for such a mission."
Bohzag puffs on his pipe "I'll not argue their value in battle. Though I recommend they be kept away from the Elvish *delegation.*" He scoffs, looking away from the group.
Gwynne: "I think that could be said for most of us. Those were...interesting years for my church. So many people coming in for aid."
Bohzag points to his eyepatch, not bothering to say anything else.
Anor gave a somber nod. "Aye, it was."
Gwynne: "I was still learning at the time. Getting my vestments, so to speak. I never saw the front—just the wounded."
Bohzag: "Shame, that. Might have been able to save my eye."
Hooded Figure (DM): "The delegation from the Elves has already arrived. They used magic to disguise themselves as dwarves, until they reached our subterranean hold. Right now they are waiting comfortably and being allowed to sample dwarven ales."
Anor chuckled. "They may wish to be careful or there might be a scene."
Gwynne: "I...I see."
Hooded Figure (DM): "There are three of them. The emissary is an elven prince. There was also a mage of some sort, and a bodyguard/servant."
Bohzag moves the band of the eyepatch aside, revealing a long scar leading from his eye back along his head and into his hair. "I've no sympathy for the Elves, myself. Weren't for them there'd not have been a war, or so many graves."
Anor nodded. "Neither do I. But we are doing this to keep the peace and prevent more bloodshed."
Gwynne: "I understand your hate, sir. No one enjoyed how that conflict played out. But if I may say, as a woman of faith, we can't let the anger get the better of us."
Alice: A tall female dwarf marches into the tavern, stopping shortly inside the entrance before pulling out a pocket watch and giving it a quick glance and looking bitter as she puts it away and then looking around the tavern for the party.
Bohzag scoffs, "They better keep up their end. I don't want to go home and find a bunch of knife-ears roaming free on my family's land."
Hooded Figure (DM): "That's as may be, but our recent negotiations have revealed that their attack on our keep was actually retaliation. Apparently a group of dwarves ransacked one of their temples and absconded with an artifact of some value. But I believe our skald has arrived." The brown, hooded dwarf motions Alice over to the corner table, a mug of ale waiting for her there.
Anor shook his head. "It likely won’t come to that, lad."
Bohzag: "If it does you can be assured that this musket's not for show." He points a thumb at the musket resting in its holster.
Gwynne: "I hope it doesn’t. Enough lives have been wasted on both sides of the isle."
Bohzag: "Well, enough besides one."
Bohzag rubs his scar gently as he puffs on his pipe.
Duvak: Just as such an inquiry was made as to if there was another expedition member, another dwarf would enter the bar... though not quite what was expected. Rather than a singer of tales common in mead halls, the dwarf that arrived stood out like a sore thumb to some extent, but at the same time...seemed to command an air of respect and authority to some extent. That dwarf in particular would be...tall, amongst its kind, easily half a head over even the other grizzled veterans in the room. A scar across his right eye, and the signs of physical strain and training seemed to denote him as a warrior, perhaps yet another soldier. However, at the same time, their attire seemed to imply otherwise. For while they indeed wore armor, it was far more...decorated than would ever be standard in military terms, odd strands of strings, beads, silk lining, pieces of stone ornating it and making it...distinct. Additionally, the man also carried no shield to complement their axe, which in itself...was again, odd, with odd runes of gold and silver carved into its handle here and there...ones similar to that which was carved upon a gold signet ring upon the dwarf's finger, but not quite the same.
Hooded Figure (DM): "First Sergeant Hirschmann, of the Skalds of Eisenberg, and Duvak Steelkin, also of Eisenberg. Please, come join us." The brown-hooded figure motions over the shaman and the skald.
Anor offered each newcomer a hand and introduced himself once again. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan."
Duvak: Regardless though, it'd be their behavior that'd make it most clear that they weren't simply more disgruntled rabble from the streets, as just as soon as the dwarf entered, a cigar held between his teeth, he'd narrow his eyes and begin looking about with an almost alarming degree of scrutiny, as if he was appraising each creature that entered his field of view...stopping only upon hearing his name mentioned. In which he gruffly approaches the group that had already gathered...far from perhaps the friendliest expression even in greeting.
Gwynne could not help but feel out of place amongst all the grizzled military veterans and people of war and military service and that all she accomplished in her 72 years was read scripture, heal people and provide verbal comfort to the sick. Far from the heroes she sat with.
Bohzag puffs his pipe and nods in greeting to the newcomers.
Duvak: "...Sergant Hirschmann, Anor of Clan Urthal...Bohzag of the Baumfaller family? I take it then that I am in the right place?"
Alice accompanies Duvak to the table and takes her seat.
Anor gave a nod. "Seems that way."
Bohzag: "Aye. We're just talking about the axes we have to grind with the Elves."
Gwynne: "Sister Gwynne. Servant of our Lady of War, Freya. An honor to meet you both."
Hooded Figure (DM): "You are all in precisely the right place. I am Cardinal Mengelberg, a paladin sworn to the service of Heimdall, and owing worldly allegiance to the Duchess of Axtkopf. As soon as we've finished our ales, we will head below to attend the signing of the peace accords with the elves."
Duvak: Upon closer inspection, it seems that rather than again, being a proper military uniform...or attire, Duvak's outfit seems to be more a mix between both what an officer and an aristocrat might wear, Bearing odd things like, pockets and gold buttons in unusual locations, and a space from which there seems to be an endless supply of items necessary for the rather...foul, cigars the dwarf smoked. And to the greetings, his response, while not hostile is far from kind. Merely a grunt and a nod of acknowledgement.
DM: The cardinal finishes off his ale and gives a hearty belch of appreciation.
Gwynne: "I'm ready whenever you all are. Would just need to grab my equipment. I'm not one for drinking while on duty at least."
Bohzag hasn't even touched his ale this entire time, rather he's been smoking his pipe
Gwynne: "No offense to you all of course!"
Anor nodded to their employer. "I am ready whenever you are."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "Alright, please follow me." The cardinal leads the group towards the kitchen.
Alice glances at the ale, scoffs and then pulls out a canteen and taking a decent sip from it.
Bohzag nods, his pipe ceasing its smoke as he runs out of tobacco, tapping it out on the edge of an empty mug, before storing it and standing up to follow the others.
Anor raises an eyebrow at the odd route, but follows anyway.
Duvak: "...Peace accords." At the mention of those, there is a clear sign of...displeasure, though his actual speech would seem to imply grudging acceptance. "...Whatever must be done I suppose."
Gwynne grabs her gear and places her shield on her back while still holding her heavy mace in her hand. She'd follow the Cardinal without much question.
Alice stands up and follows the rest of the party.
DM: The Cardinal pulls back his hood and makes a gesture to something behind the party. The red-haired barmaid is standing there with a naked blade. Recognizing the cardinal, she sheathes her blade. "Friends, do not use this entry unless I am with you." The cardinal kneels and opens a trapdoor, then climbs down.
Anor frowns and gives a nod. "Okay."
Bohzag shifts his pack, waiting his turn to descend, trying to keep his musket pointed away from the people beneath him.
Duvak: As the group walks out toward the kitchen, Duvak would stop mid way... seeming to reignite his cigar...somehow by cupping the end in one hand. However, as he takes a long drown out puff, the smoke would seem to form a skull...and float back towards the threat he had noticed prior. But as soon as the Cardinal addresses it, the militant dwarf would simply shrug and continue following the others.
Anor proceeded down the ladder first. "So why the tunnel?"
Gwynne: "Yes. This does seem rather roundabout."
DM: The cardinal guides the group through a pitch-black tunnel. Occasionally he warns the party, "do not step here," or "duck as you pass this point." After a short time, you pass two reinforced doors. The first is labelled, "Elves." The second, "Dwarves." He produces a key and opens the dwarf door. "This tunnel gives figures of importance a direct route into the more secure areas of subterranean Axtkopf."
Anor gave a wary glance at the elven door. "I see."
Bohzag chuckles "Handy. At least we're making good time."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I must ask that you leave your weaponry, whether magical or not, within this chamber. The elven delegation has already been similarly disarmed, as have I." The paladin gestures at a corner where an ornate greataxe rests.
Anor nods and begins to remove his weapons and lay them next to the axe.
Bohzag takes the musket off of the holster on his back, setting it gently against the wall off on its own, with the muzzle pointed up just in case.
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "Oh, and don't touch the door labeled "elves." Their wizard placed some kind of spell on the door, with our permission. Something about a curse and a vast demon-worm devouring people. Catyrpelus, I think."
Gwynne: "Fair enough, sir." Gwynne made no objection as she left her mace, shield and sword with the axe. "Seems a rather extravagant curse to put on a door."
Bohzag: "You've not seen how thorough they are on the battlefield."
Alice does as commanded and places her greataxe on the table along with her backpack.
Duvak raises an eyebrow at this, as if...amused even at the notion that simply removing his axe would prevent him from slaughtering the elves as they had done the dwarves at the keep. However, with a shurg, he then gingerly upholsters the unwieldy axe and lays it there... instead, taking a moment to "crack" gauntleted hands.
Gwynne: "And I'd rather leave it like that, thank you. I'm trying not to think about that."
Duvak: "...If the elves believe that simply taking away our axes will stop their spines from snapping at the first instance of treachery... well, then perhaps they are in need of...enlightenment."
Bohzag: "I'm all for killin' 'em, but that's a decision we're not meant to make."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I trust that you will all keep your heads around the elves. I can respect your hatred after this bloody war, but this peace is vital, if the dwarven people are to recover. Although, obviously, if they do attempt some manner of villainy here, they will not survive the attempt."
Anor gave a nod at the paladin's words.
Gwynne: "Father, if I may be so bold, I think it would be best to allow me to speak with you if you need assistance. Calmer minds and voices need to be front and center today." Gwynne spoke with no hesitation or reservation, seeing and hearing the words of her zealous companions.
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I appreciate the offer, but even I will say little in this meeting. Our Duke and Duchess of Eisenberg and Axtkopf will be doing most of the talking. And the human representative, Lord Darby."
Duvak: "...Of course. I am here today to see to it, that sufficient time for the Dwarven people to grow once again is attained. I will lower my head as necessary for now..."
Gwynne: "Forgive me. I was not aware the lords and lady would be present for the negotiations. I was believed that you'd be speaking. Forgive my ignorance."
Bohzag nods, crossing his arms and waiting for the others to finish talking.
Anor nods. "Shall we?"
DM: The cardinal smiles. "There is nothing to forgive. In this matter, I am merely a bishop. And we shall, yes." The cardinal securely locks the door once the party leaves the holding room, then leads the party through a set of intersections.
Anor follows along quietly.
Bohzag follows, stroking his beard in thought.
Gwynne also holds her tongue as well, instead playing with the holy symbol around her neck.
DM: The party enters a large, empty council chamber. The banners of several major and minor dwarven families hang around the circular chamber. In the center are six chairs, arranged in two rows of three, facing each other. There are several chairs set up to the side, as well. The cardinal murmurs a few words to a guard, who leads the group to the side chairs. In one of the rows of chairs, a human, a female dwarf, and a male dwarf are having a spirited discussion. The human is clearly agitated.
Alice: Alice steadily marches after the rest, pulling out her canteen again and taking another sip before putting it away again.
Duvak takes another draught from his cigar... but then suddenly clicks his tongue as a strange... lizard-like creature crawls out from one of his pockets, onto his shoulder... a pale green, strange reptilian thing, that is just a bit hard to put one's finger on. Though it seems friendly enough!...If not for the fact it's fangs dripped green stuff every now and then.
Bohzag claims a chair, hefting one leg up to rest on the other knee.
Gwynne takes a side seat as well, being respectful towards the arrival of the nobility. Hardly the place of a woman of the cloth to interrupt such people.
Anor moves over to sit down in one of the chairs off to the side. Interested to see what happens next.
Human Representative (DM): "...forgive me, your Graces, but I cannot accept that the Heroine of the Siege of Easterleigh is or ever was a coward! She proved her worth in battle, before our eyes, as she laid waste to the beseiging elven army! The Council of Easterleigh will not take this news well!" The human protests.
Duvak however doesn't seem to pay mind to the lizard too much after that, and ops to take a seat as far as is proper for well... aristocrat esque individuals, without actually being nobility.
DM: The dwarven female, sitting in the center chair of the row, turns to face the human. "I agree with your Excellence in this matter, Lord Darby, but it is not my decision to make. The people of Axtkopf would surely have fallen to elven blades, were it not for the general's sound judgement in this matter."
DM: The male dwarf rises slowly, his rage barely contained and his face red. "I am the DUKE of EISENBERG. I will not have you, or you, or ANY of you question the appointments and dismissals within my sovereign realm. The general has been dismissed from my service and my family, following her cowardly behavior. My councilors and I are in agreement--she lost this war for us."
Alice takes her seat after sending a salute towards her Duke, whether he is looking or not.
DM: The argument is interrupted as the cardinal moves forward. "Your Graces and Your Excellency, this is the expeditionary force, come to witness the signing of the peace accords. Ah, and the elves are arriving, as well." The Duke of Eisenberg gives a curt nod to Alice, acknowledging the veteran.
Gwynne could not stand to see such bickering among what was supposed to be friends, but she was afraid to speak up as well. She wasn't sure the words of a simple cleric would sway them.
Bohzag maintains his seat, his one good eye fixed on the Duke.
DM: Three white-robed figures enter. As with all the elves, their garb covers every part of their body except for the eyes. Before today, most dwarves, including the party, have only seen dead elves unhooded.
Anor stands to give the delegation a small bow.
Duvak silently nods at this statement, giving a brief glance of approval at the Duke, as he procures yet another cigar...a fresh one for the meeting, cupping the end with a hand as sparks from...somewhere seem to cause it to light. However that brief pleasant "mood" seems to fade as his eyes are then focused completely on the elves.
Bohzag tries his best to smile at the delegation, not bothering to stand.
DM: The three elves come to stand before the opposite three chairs, and the dwarven duchess and human lord rise to stand beside the duke. The six give slight bows. The elves remove their hoods, revealing smooth, pale faces draped by white hair.
Gwynne provides a simple nod and a quick prayer, wishing the delegation well and that they speak in wisdom instead of anger. All this was done in celestial, so that her god could better hear her.
DM: The figure in the center wears a small silver circlet on his brow, and stands six inches taller than the others. His left ear, however, is disfigured in a way that suggests a musket blast. It has healed, but with major scarring.
Bohzag uncrosses his arms, his jaw seeming to hang open like a bear trap.
DM: The figure in the center and the one on the right wear bright metal armor, mithral-make. The one on the left, closest to the party, wears only a white robe.
Anor frowns as he notices the elf's mangled ear. Hoping that it wasn't Bohzag who did it.
Bohzag rises slowly to his feet, his left hand pressing againt the scar on the side of his head, as his expression hardens into one of anger.
DM: The center elf murmurs a few words in elven to the armored elf on the right. The elf on the right has handsome, rugged features and a streak of black hair in with the white. The right-hand elf nods and speaks in broken Dwarven.
Duvak takes another draught of his cigar...taking care to not let...too much displeasure show with regard to the presence of the elves. Though he can't help but..."clack" the metallic joints of his gauntlet over and over again.
Elven Translator (DM): "Greetings. May I... present... the Crown Prince, Jahanyar Mahijarani, the fleet-footed and eagle-eyed. He conveys his greeting to Your... ((stumbling over the Dwarven tongue)) Your Graces and Your Excellence."
Alice takes a quick glance towards the elves and tries her best to maintain her composure, taking note of Bohzag's behavior.
Gwynne made a few quick glances over to her companions, noting the different reactions to the elves; Bohzag seemed somewhat nervous and angry and Duvak was hiding his displeasure. All and all, the air was tense. Her party alone was very on edge. But she remained strong—she had to.
DM: The Cardinal, bowing, moves to stand closer to the party and out of the negotiation. The Duchess responds to the delegation in Elven, with apparent difficulty.
Bohzag has his right hand clenched into what one would assume a very tight fist as he stares daggers at the elf with the missing ear.
Alice pays close attention to the conversation, despite it being partially in elven.
Duvak opts to mask a...less than pleasant comment with another puff of smoke, "...It would be easier for all parties if they simply spoke in the common tongue..."
DM: The negotiations are a mere formality. The elves thank the dwarves for the return of a sacred relic (in Dwarven). The duchess thanks the elves for the return of prisoners of war (in Elven, but the Cardinal translates for the party in a hushed tone). The elves explain that they have vacated the Keep and the Red Valley, and offer them to the dwarves as a token of peace between the dwarves, the humans, and the elves (In Dwarven, with substantial difficulty). The duchess thanks the elves and points out the expeditionary party to the elves (in Elven).
Anor gave a small stretch as he entered the tavern, his breastplate and the engraved phoenix gleaming in the firelight. Despite his readily apparent nature as a warrior, his weapons strapped to his back and belt were peace-tied and his bow was missing its string. He took a seat near an empty corner.
DM: The tavern is crowded, but Anor manages to claim the back corner table, recently vacated. A harried human barmaid, plump and curvy, stops by the table, her red hair slightly damp from her busy day. "Help you?"
Anor gave his scarred head a nod, "Just an ale, lass," handing her some coin to pay for it.
DM: The barmaid gives you a business-like smile, then hurries back to the kitchen. One of the dwarves at the bar leers at her, but due to his inebriated state his swipe misses her ass by yards.
Anor shakes his head as he awaits the barmaid return.
Bohzag: The door to the tavern swings open as a black-haired dwarf enters, stamping his feet and taking up a standing position near the hearth, his fur coat and hat covering much of his form, save for his travelling backpack and the musket hanging from a strap attached to it.
DM: Immediately behind the black-haired dwarf with the musket, another dwarf enters wearing a plain robe and hood. "Bohzag, I believe that armored gentleman at the corner table is another of the expedition candidates."
Anor looks up at the new arrivals, his eyes looking them over briefly.
Bohzag finishes warming his hands "Aye." he says, turning to walk towards the table, revealing the black eye-patch covering his left eye.
Gwynne: A moderately armored figure steps through the crowd and finally makes her way into the tavern. She makes no reservation of hiding her faith, wearing her holy symbol like a necklace and nor does she not hide behind a cloak or hood. Her most striking feature was her auburn hair. "This seems like the place...but where is the contact?"
Anor extends his hand to the one eyed dwarf. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan."
DM: The hooded figure orders ale for the group at the bar, joining the table and placing the drinks in front of the dwarves. Anor ends up with two drinks. "Gwynne, I presume?" The hooded dwarf looks in the newcomer's direction.
Bohzag extends his own hand to shake "Bohzag, second son of the Baumfaller family."
Gwynne: "Y...Yes sir. Forgive me for being so late." Gwynne quickly shakes the offered hand, still a little nervous from the looks of it.
Hooded Figure (DM): "Please, join us. There should be two more."
Gwynne: "Yessir."
Anor looked to the cleric. "My lady, Hello." He offers her a hand as well. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan. No need to be nervious here."
Gwynne as ordered takes one of the empty seats, leaning her mace and shield against a nearby wall, but leaving her sword on her waist. "Gwynne Coppereye. Loyal servant of our lady of war, Freya. Forgive me but this is the first time in a good while I've been outside my temples walls. And yes, my name makes little sense given my actual eye color.”
Gwynne shakes the other hand as well. "And as far as I can guess, I'm no heir or anything like that. I've been with the church as long as I remember."
Bohzag takes a pipe out of his coat and fills it, lighting it with a slight poof of smoke as he touches the tobacco with the match, before inhaling gently.
Anor gave a small nod. Turning to look at the man in the robe, "Are we all here?"
Hooded Figure (DM): "Should be one more. An angry skald, if I recall correctly."
Anor nodded, "Ah," drinking his first ale.
Gwynne: "A skald? Seems an interesting choice of companion for such a mission."
Bohzag puffs on his pipe "I'll not argue their value in battle. Though I recommend they be kept away from the Elvish *delegation.*" He scoffs, looking away from the group.
Gwynne: "I think that could be said for most of us. Those were...interesting years for my church. So many people coming in for aid."
Bohzag points to his eyepatch, not bothering to say anything else.
Anor gave a somber nod. "Aye, it was."
Gwynne: "I was still learning at the time. Getting my vestments, so to speak. I never saw the front—just the wounded."
Bohzag: "Shame, that. Might have been able to save my eye."
Hooded Figure (DM): "The delegation from the Elves has already arrived. They used magic to disguise themselves as dwarves, until they reached our subterranean hold. Right now they are waiting comfortably and being allowed to sample dwarven ales."
Anor chuckled. "They may wish to be careful or there might be a scene."
Gwynne: "I...I see."
Hooded Figure (DM): "There are three of them. The emissary is an elven prince. There was also a mage of some sort, and a bodyguard/servant."
Bohzag moves the band of the eyepatch aside, revealing a long scar leading from his eye back along his head and into his hair. "I've no sympathy for the Elves, myself. Weren't for them there'd not have been a war, or so many graves."
Anor nodded. "Neither do I. But we are doing this to keep the peace and prevent more bloodshed."
Gwynne: "I understand your hate, sir. No one enjoyed how that conflict played out. But if I may say, as a woman of faith, we can't let the anger get the better of us."
Alice: A tall female dwarf marches into the tavern, stopping shortly inside the entrance before pulling out a pocket watch and giving it a quick glance and looking bitter as she puts it away and then looking around the tavern for the party.
Bohzag scoffs, "They better keep up their end. I don't want to go home and find a bunch of knife-ears roaming free on my family's land."
Hooded Figure (DM): "That's as may be, but our recent negotiations have revealed that their attack on our keep was actually retaliation. Apparently a group of dwarves ransacked one of their temples and absconded with an artifact of some value. But I believe our skald has arrived." The brown, hooded dwarf motions Alice over to the corner table, a mug of ale waiting for her there.
Anor shook his head. "It likely won’t come to that, lad."
Bohzag: "If it does you can be assured that this musket's not for show." He points a thumb at the musket resting in its holster.
Gwynne: "I hope it doesn’t. Enough lives have been wasted on both sides of the isle."
Bohzag: "Well, enough besides one."
Bohzag rubs his scar gently as he puffs on his pipe.
Duvak: Just as such an inquiry was made as to if there was another expedition member, another dwarf would enter the bar... though not quite what was expected. Rather than a singer of tales common in mead halls, the dwarf that arrived stood out like a sore thumb to some extent, but at the same time...seemed to command an air of respect and authority to some extent. That dwarf in particular would be...tall, amongst its kind, easily half a head over even the other grizzled veterans in the room. A scar across his right eye, and the signs of physical strain and training seemed to denote him as a warrior, perhaps yet another soldier. However, at the same time, their attire seemed to imply otherwise. For while they indeed wore armor, it was far more...decorated than would ever be standard in military terms, odd strands of strings, beads, silk lining, pieces of stone ornating it and making it...distinct. Additionally, the man also carried no shield to complement their axe, which in itself...was again, odd, with odd runes of gold and silver carved into its handle here and there...ones similar to that which was carved upon a gold signet ring upon the dwarf's finger, but not quite the same.
Hooded Figure (DM): "First Sergeant Hirschmann, of the Skalds of Eisenberg, and Duvak Steelkin, also of Eisenberg. Please, come join us." The brown-hooded figure motions over the shaman and the skald.
Anor offered each newcomer a hand and introduced himself once again. "Anor. Third son and heir of the Urthal Clan."
Duvak: Regardless though, it'd be their behavior that'd make it most clear that they weren't simply more disgruntled rabble from the streets, as just as soon as the dwarf entered, a cigar held between his teeth, he'd narrow his eyes and begin looking about with an almost alarming degree of scrutiny, as if he was appraising each creature that entered his field of view...stopping only upon hearing his name mentioned. In which he gruffly approaches the group that had already gathered...far from perhaps the friendliest expression even in greeting.
Gwynne could not help but feel out of place amongst all the grizzled military veterans and people of war and military service and that all she accomplished in her 72 years was read scripture, heal people and provide verbal comfort to the sick. Far from the heroes she sat with.
Bohzag puffs his pipe and nods in greeting to the newcomers.
Duvak: "...Sergant Hirschmann, Anor of Clan Urthal...Bohzag of the Baumfaller family? I take it then that I am in the right place?"
Alice accompanies Duvak to the table and takes her seat.
Anor gave a nod. "Seems that way."
Bohzag: "Aye. We're just talking about the axes we have to grind with the Elves."
Gwynne: "Sister Gwynne. Servant of our Lady of War, Freya. An honor to meet you both."
Hooded Figure (DM): "You are all in precisely the right place. I am Cardinal Mengelberg, a paladin sworn to the service of Heimdall, and owing worldly allegiance to the Duchess of Axtkopf. As soon as we've finished our ales, we will head below to attend the signing of the peace accords with the elves."
Duvak: Upon closer inspection, it seems that rather than again, being a proper military uniform...or attire, Duvak's outfit seems to be more a mix between both what an officer and an aristocrat might wear, Bearing odd things like, pockets and gold buttons in unusual locations, and a space from which there seems to be an endless supply of items necessary for the rather...foul, cigars the dwarf smoked. And to the greetings, his response, while not hostile is far from kind. Merely a grunt and a nod of acknowledgement.
DM: The cardinal finishes off his ale and gives a hearty belch of appreciation.
Gwynne: "I'm ready whenever you all are. Would just need to grab my equipment. I'm not one for drinking while on duty at least."
Bohzag hasn't even touched his ale this entire time, rather he's been smoking his pipe
Gwynne: "No offense to you all of course!"
Anor nodded to their employer. "I am ready whenever you are."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "Alright, please follow me." The cardinal leads the group towards the kitchen.
Alice glances at the ale, scoffs and then pulls out a canteen and taking a decent sip from it.
Bohzag nods, his pipe ceasing its smoke as he runs out of tobacco, tapping it out on the edge of an empty mug, before storing it and standing up to follow the others.
Anor raises an eyebrow at the odd route, but follows anyway.
Duvak: "...Peace accords." At the mention of those, there is a clear sign of...displeasure, though his actual speech would seem to imply grudging acceptance. "...Whatever must be done I suppose."
Gwynne grabs her gear and places her shield on her back while still holding her heavy mace in her hand. She'd follow the Cardinal without much question.
Alice stands up and follows the rest of the party.
DM: The Cardinal pulls back his hood and makes a gesture to something behind the party. The red-haired barmaid is standing there with a naked blade. Recognizing the cardinal, she sheathes her blade. "Friends, do not use this entry unless I am with you." The cardinal kneels and opens a trapdoor, then climbs down.
Anor frowns and gives a nod. "Okay."
Bohzag shifts his pack, waiting his turn to descend, trying to keep his musket pointed away from the people beneath him.
Duvak: As the group walks out toward the kitchen, Duvak would stop mid way... seeming to reignite his cigar...somehow by cupping the end in one hand. However, as he takes a long drown out puff, the smoke would seem to form a skull...and float back towards the threat he had noticed prior. But as soon as the Cardinal addresses it, the militant dwarf would simply shrug and continue following the others.
Anor proceeded down the ladder first. "So why the tunnel?"
Gwynne: "Yes. This does seem rather roundabout."
DM: The cardinal guides the group through a pitch-black tunnel. Occasionally he warns the party, "do not step here," or "duck as you pass this point." After a short time, you pass two reinforced doors. The first is labelled, "Elves." The second, "Dwarves." He produces a key and opens the dwarf door. "This tunnel gives figures of importance a direct route into the more secure areas of subterranean Axtkopf."
Anor gave a wary glance at the elven door. "I see."
Bohzag chuckles "Handy. At least we're making good time."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I must ask that you leave your weaponry, whether magical or not, within this chamber. The elven delegation has already been similarly disarmed, as have I." The paladin gestures at a corner where an ornate greataxe rests.
Anor nods and begins to remove his weapons and lay them next to the axe.
Bohzag takes the musket off of the holster on his back, setting it gently against the wall off on its own, with the muzzle pointed up just in case.
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "Oh, and don't touch the door labeled "elves." Their wizard placed some kind of spell on the door, with our permission. Something about a curse and a vast demon-worm devouring people. Catyrpelus, I think."
Gwynne: "Fair enough, sir." Gwynne made no objection as she left her mace, shield and sword with the axe. "Seems a rather extravagant curse to put on a door."
Bohzag: "You've not seen how thorough they are on the battlefield."
Alice does as commanded and places her greataxe on the table along with her backpack.
Duvak raises an eyebrow at this, as if...amused even at the notion that simply removing his axe would prevent him from slaughtering the elves as they had done the dwarves at the keep. However, with a shurg, he then gingerly upholsters the unwieldy axe and lays it there... instead, taking a moment to "crack" gauntleted hands.
Gwynne: "And I'd rather leave it like that, thank you. I'm trying not to think about that."
Duvak: "...If the elves believe that simply taking away our axes will stop their spines from snapping at the first instance of treachery... well, then perhaps they are in need of...enlightenment."
Bohzag: "I'm all for killin' 'em, but that's a decision we're not meant to make."
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I trust that you will all keep your heads around the elves. I can respect your hatred after this bloody war, but this peace is vital, if the dwarven people are to recover. Although, obviously, if they do attempt some manner of villainy here, they will not survive the attempt."
Anor gave a nod at the paladin's words.
Gwynne: "Father, if I may be so bold, I think it would be best to allow me to speak with you if you need assistance. Calmer minds and voices need to be front and center today." Gwynne spoke with no hesitation or reservation, seeing and hearing the words of her zealous companions.
Cardinal Mengelberg (DM): "I appreciate the offer, but even I will say little in this meeting. Our Duke and Duchess of Eisenberg and Axtkopf will be doing most of the talking. And the human representative, Lord Darby."
Duvak: "...Of course. I am here today to see to it, that sufficient time for the Dwarven people to grow once again is attained. I will lower my head as necessary for now..."
Gwynne: "Forgive me. I was not aware the lords and lady would be present for the negotiations. I was believed that you'd be speaking. Forgive my ignorance."
Bohzag nods, crossing his arms and waiting for the others to finish talking.
Anor nods. "Shall we?"
DM: The cardinal smiles. "There is nothing to forgive. In this matter, I am merely a bishop. And we shall, yes." The cardinal securely locks the door once the party leaves the holding room, then leads the party through a set of intersections.
Anor follows along quietly.
Bohzag follows, stroking his beard in thought.
Gwynne also holds her tongue as well, instead playing with the holy symbol around her neck.
DM: The party enters a large, empty council chamber. The banners of several major and minor dwarven families hang around the circular chamber. In the center are six chairs, arranged in two rows of three, facing each other. There are several chairs set up to the side, as well. The cardinal murmurs a few words to a guard, who leads the group to the side chairs. In one of the rows of chairs, a human, a female dwarf, and a male dwarf are having a spirited discussion. The human is clearly agitated.
Alice: Alice steadily marches after the rest, pulling out her canteen again and taking another sip before putting it away again.
Duvak takes another draught from his cigar... but then suddenly clicks his tongue as a strange... lizard-like creature crawls out from one of his pockets, onto his shoulder... a pale green, strange reptilian thing, that is just a bit hard to put one's finger on. Though it seems friendly enough!...If not for the fact it's fangs dripped green stuff every now and then.
Bohzag claims a chair, hefting one leg up to rest on the other knee.
Gwynne takes a side seat as well, being respectful towards the arrival of the nobility. Hardly the place of a woman of the cloth to interrupt such people.
Anor moves over to sit down in one of the chairs off to the side. Interested to see what happens next.
Human Representative (DM): "...forgive me, your Graces, but I cannot accept that the Heroine of the Siege of Easterleigh is or ever was a coward! She proved her worth in battle, before our eyes, as she laid waste to the beseiging elven army! The Council of Easterleigh will not take this news well!" The human protests.
Duvak however doesn't seem to pay mind to the lizard too much after that, and ops to take a seat as far as is proper for well... aristocrat esque individuals, without actually being nobility.
DM: The dwarven female, sitting in the center chair of the row, turns to face the human. "I agree with your Excellence in this matter, Lord Darby, but it is not my decision to make. The people of Axtkopf would surely have fallen to elven blades, were it not for the general's sound judgement in this matter."
DM: The male dwarf rises slowly, his rage barely contained and his face red. "I am the DUKE of EISENBERG. I will not have you, or you, or ANY of you question the appointments and dismissals within my sovereign realm. The general has been dismissed from my service and my family, following her cowardly behavior. My councilors and I are in agreement--she lost this war for us."
Alice takes her seat after sending a salute towards her Duke, whether he is looking or not.
DM: The argument is interrupted as the cardinal moves forward. "Your Graces and Your Excellency, this is the expeditionary force, come to witness the signing of the peace accords. Ah, and the elves are arriving, as well." The Duke of Eisenberg gives a curt nod to Alice, acknowledging the veteran.
Gwynne could not stand to see such bickering among what was supposed to be friends, but she was afraid to speak up as well. She wasn't sure the words of a simple cleric would sway them.
Bohzag maintains his seat, his one good eye fixed on the Duke.
DM: Three white-robed figures enter. As with all the elves, their garb covers every part of their body except for the eyes. Before today, most dwarves, including the party, have only seen dead elves unhooded.
Anor stands to give the delegation a small bow.
Duvak silently nods at this statement, giving a brief glance of approval at the Duke, as he procures yet another cigar...a fresh one for the meeting, cupping the end with a hand as sparks from...somewhere seem to cause it to light. However that brief pleasant "mood" seems to fade as his eyes are then focused completely on the elves.
Bohzag tries his best to smile at the delegation, not bothering to stand.
DM: The three elves come to stand before the opposite three chairs, and the dwarven duchess and human lord rise to stand beside the duke. The six give slight bows. The elves remove their hoods, revealing smooth, pale faces draped by white hair.
Gwynne provides a simple nod and a quick prayer, wishing the delegation well and that they speak in wisdom instead of anger. All this was done in celestial, so that her god could better hear her.
DM: The figure in the center wears a small silver circlet on his brow, and stands six inches taller than the others. His left ear, however, is disfigured in a way that suggests a musket blast. It has healed, but with major scarring.
Bohzag uncrosses his arms, his jaw seeming to hang open like a bear trap.
DM: The figure in the center and the one on the right wear bright metal armor, mithral-make. The one on the left, closest to the party, wears only a white robe.
Anor frowns as he notices the elf's mangled ear. Hoping that it wasn't Bohzag who did it.
Bohzag rises slowly to his feet, his left hand pressing againt the scar on the side of his head, as his expression hardens into one of anger.
DM: The center elf murmurs a few words in elven to the armored elf on the right. The elf on the right has handsome, rugged features and a streak of black hair in with the white. The right-hand elf nods and speaks in broken Dwarven.
Duvak takes another draught of his cigar...taking care to not let...too much displeasure show with regard to the presence of the elves. Though he can't help but..."clack" the metallic joints of his gauntlet over and over again.
Elven Translator (DM): "Greetings. May I... present... the Crown Prince, Jahanyar Mahijarani, the fleet-footed and eagle-eyed. He conveys his greeting to Your... ((stumbling over the Dwarven tongue)) Your Graces and Your Excellence."
Alice takes a quick glance towards the elves and tries her best to maintain her composure, taking note of Bohzag's behavior.
Gwynne made a few quick glances over to her companions, noting the different reactions to the elves; Bohzag seemed somewhat nervous and angry and Duvak was hiding his displeasure. All and all, the air was tense. Her party alone was very on edge. But she remained strong—she had to.
DM: The Cardinal, bowing, moves to stand closer to the party and out of the negotiation. The Duchess responds to the delegation in Elven, with apparent difficulty.
Bohzag has his right hand clenched into what one would assume a very tight fist as he stares daggers at the elf with the missing ear.
Alice pays close attention to the conversation, despite it being partially in elven.
Duvak opts to mask a...less than pleasant comment with another puff of smoke, "...It would be easier for all parties if they simply spoke in the common tongue..."
DM: The negotiations are a mere formality. The elves thank the dwarves for the return of a sacred relic (in Dwarven). The duchess thanks the elves for the return of prisoners of war (in Elven, but the Cardinal translates for the party in a hushed tone). The elves explain that they have vacated the Keep and the Red Valley, and offer them to the dwarves as a token of peace between the dwarves, the humans, and the elves (In Dwarven, with substantial difficulty). The duchess thanks the elves and points out the expeditionary party to the elves (in Elven).
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