DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HHE: The Haunted Helm HHE10: Bearkiller

Jex

"If only there was a way to keep the fire burning, to destroy it's environment. For instance, if we were able to start a huge fire with this, it could give us the advantage that we need."

"But killing the dragon is half the problem. The other problem we now have is rescuing Nestaron."

Zoltan

He nods. "Yes. We must be careful about throwing fire bombs around in it's cave if we don't know where Nestaron is."

Seyja


"My people used ceramic pots for the containers, pots made intentionally with a weak spot easy to break, but the rest sounds the same."

She looked at Jex and Zoltan and nodded.

"Yes, Nestaron should be our first priority, but the dragon needs to die."

<Weston>

"I do not want to seem 'unconcerned' for our friend, but I must disagree Seyja. No matter how we attack, fire or no, it will be dangerous for Nestaron ... unless you suggest we =not= confront the beast. But if we do not succeed, he is dead in any event, isn't he", he asked the group. "And many more, down stream, will also die. So does one of you have a better solution?"

Bearkiller

The halfling shifted, sitting cross-legged as he listened intently.

"Not forget, we search for brother too. Red Knight. Maybe he in cave with Nestaron." He said.

Anyone in the party who had spent much time in the Seven Cities knew of Sir Edward the Red. He was not a halfling, nor was he half-halfling (quarterling?). It was not readily apparent how he could be Bearkiller's brother, but perhaps it was a tribal bond. If Red Ed had somehow been initiated into Bearkiller's tribe, they might be brothers. Or it could be more personals, blood brothers maybe.

Either way, Bearkiller still held out hope of finding him. (You might question what condition the knight errant was likely to be found in.)

Seyja


The barbarian woman opened her mouth to answer Weston, but the Halfling then spoke and distracted her.

"The Red Knight is your brother? I did not know that he was..." she paused and shook her head, confused by a thought which occurred to her.

"Do you expect to find Sir Edward alive, Bearkiller?"

Bearkiller

The halfling bridled, glaring at Seyja fiercely. Whether she'd touched some raw nerve or not, it was unlikely Seyja would avert her gaze after what she'd been through, so it was Bearkiller who flexed his jaw and turned to gaze into the fire.

"I am sorry. My story make fool of own tribe. But you have right to know," he muttered reluctantly, "if I find Red Knight alive, I kill him."

Bearkiller sucked in a long breath.

"Red Knight come to our village, brave hero, slay the giants at Tall Stone Pass for the hand of chief's daughter. But he speak with two faces. Daughter tell him where to find tribe's sacred treasure, the Long Tears... Red Knight steal it and flee." He explained.

The halfling shook his head, any embarrassment having fermented into anger, "Red Knight give the Long Tears to Queen of Vorspring. In return, she give him key to old crypt under castle."

Silence. He took a swig of the whiskey.

Tindarien

He listens as the others talk, not contributing to the conversation other than a nodded agreement to the halfling joining them. He finds a corner, settles himself down, his mind on another tangent triggered by the paintings and the other things they have found recently.

There is something more to this place, some history or import that might be discovered but only once their current mission is concluded. He is intrigued. It also reminds him of the key they found earlier.

"Jex. May I borrow that key again. I have a substance that could bring out the features on the key more clearly."

He reaches into his pack and takes out the vial of aphronitre.

<Weston>

He listened, he considered. He thought about what was the right thing to do here. And he knew what =HE= needed to do.

"Since you have decided to help us in our endeavor here, perhaps when we are done with the dragon, we, or at least =I=, would be willing to help you recover the 'Long Tears'", he offered. "Unfortunately, I doubt that you will be able to extract your justice from 'The Red Knight'. From what we know, we believe that someone has already done for him. The most likely suspect is our foe the dragon."

Seyja


Well, everyone has their problems, was her first thought in response to Bearkiller's admonition, but, after a moments thought, she shrugged and nodded in response to Weston's statement.

"I too might join in to help recover your tribe's treasure," she said.

"What are the Long Tears?"

Bearkiller

Anyone promising help to reclaim the Long Tears was stared at hard by the halfling, hard and blank, like a stone wall.

But afterwards he nodded, almost shyly.

"I have heard you talk when you not know I listen. You speak with true heart. If I could return to tribe with the Long Tears...." Bearkiller trailed off, unable to describe the gratitude.

To Seyja he said, "You ever see Harthorn? It stand alone on the prairie. One mountain.

"Once, long ago, the peak was clouded, and in cloud live cloud giants. They live in peace with my tribe. We show them way of the wild. Teach them many thing.

"In time, giants were called back to Cloudhome by war. Before they go, they forge necklace for halfling tribe. They said, 'This is how we see you'. It is pure light, like - like frozen drops of spring rain, bound by magic. We call it the Long Tears. As long as it is with my tribe, we will forever be humble, but never forget our humbleness is our beauty."

From Bearkiller's faraway expression, it was obvious he had seen the treasure himself. It must be very beautiful, and probably irrestible to someone as bejewelled as the Queen of Vorspring.

Bearkiller didn't comment on why Red Ed did what he did. He more than likely didn't know, and had attributed it to a flaw in character.

Maybe Weston and Zoltan had a better idea? 'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' as the saying went. For some reason, Red Ed had wanted entry to the Queen's royal crypt, did she ask for the Long Tears in return? The Queen of Vorspring was very wealthy, still thriving off the plunder from her grandfather's sickening chevauchées. But she loved jewellery and fine clothes, not something that overly concerned her warmongering forebears.

Red Ed was a knight errant, agent of the Order of Averness. He would have been seeking something in the crypts, and based on his reputation, wouldn't have hesitated in sullying a tribal chief's daughter or outright theft to get what he wanted. The Order of Averness strove for nothing less than to protect civilisation from the world's most dangerous monsters. Often the ends justified the means.

<Weston>

As far as Weston was concerned, Red had let his greed get in the way of what he should have known was right and what was wrong. Oh, it wasn't a 'monetary' greed for coin and jewel. It might have been the greed of 'recognition' or some such. It was clear that he had bargained the Tears for something that he thought would help him in his quest and his need to fulfill the quest got the better of him. As far as =he= was concerned, the ends did =NOT= justify the means. It got him to wondering if the Order was really the right place for him.

Zoltan

He listens quietly. On the one hand, if Red Ed is dead (catchy phrase, that <g>) then his trying to offer other explanations to Bearkiller is pointless. The halfling would return to his home and if his people decide to try to recover the Long Tears from the Queen of Vorspring that is none of his business.

On the other hand, if Red Ed is alive...., well that could be problematic.

But no matter how he plays out the conversation in his mind, there is no way to put Red Ed in a good light. Even suggesting that maybe Red Ed needed to get into that Crypt for a noble purpose, like perhaps there was something there that would save other people from being terrorized or killed. And perhaps the Queen would only accept those specific jewels as payment. Even that sounds hollow to him.

In that case Ed had two choices as he sees it. Either convince the halflings to let him have the jewels to save others, or, if he thought that wouldn't work, then break into the crypt without permission. Stealing the prized jewels of Bearkiller's tribe was not a good choice for Ed to make. He can't justify it to himself, so he can't find a way to try to justify it to Bearkiller.

Jex

He listened intently to the tale that Bearkiller told. It was a classic tale, told over and over. From a storytelling perspective it could have a number of different endings. Choosing the right one involved a bit of thinking and proper judging. Although appearances usually told the full and true story, sometimes they were not reality or there were circumstances that needed to be understood before judgement.

"I hear you Bearkiller," he said.

"Surely Red Ed knew that to take the Long Tears would be his own death sentence and that he would be killed for doing so. I wonder what was so important to him to risk his life. It does not sound like he cared about treasure."

"Now that you are a friend, a team member, perhaps I can ask a favor of you? When we find Red Ed, before you kill him, may I hear his tale? I am a keeper of stories and as such I value the truth in history and the tales of our ancestors more than any item. It would be an unfinished tale if I do not hear his words."

D

He listened to the others and considered what they had heard before. At a pause in the conversation he spoke from his seated position "when I was most recently occupied with the spirits between life and death, in Heilbutt's Hallow, I had a vision. I saw the Baronessa, a dwarf in a loin cloth, and a halfling woman with a mohawk and her face painted black and white. I do not pretend to know the meaning of the vision, yet, if your hair is a tribal element, possibly you know something of the woman that was presented to me."

He wondered about the black flith and what it might mean. Something tickled at the back of his brain, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't just another figment rather than a real something he remembered. [OOC: Can't be sure if it isn't a different game. ;P]

Sergeant Almador

Goblins, orcs, dragon's teeth!!

He woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. All he wanted to do was sleep but maybe the day had been too momentous, or maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he refused to relax.

With a groan, the greying Sergeant of the Guard realised he'd been lying on his mace.

Wringing his eyelids, he looked around. The cave was bathed in the amber firelight. The painted ceiling seemed to crawl with scenes from time immerorial.

He was glad and greatly reassured to see his companions still with him and awake.

Sergeant Almador struggled to his feet and walked the length of the cave to find somewhere to relieve himself. Old age! The halfling was right, it was shaped like a horseshoe, with two very low entrances. It felt save, secluded.

Once he was done, he returned to the fire and saw the high elf was occupied with some task. Almador remembered with a rush of horror that Nestaron had been taken.

So Tindarien had lost two friends in one day. That was cruel fate, and the Sergeant went to sit with the man.

"How - how are you, sir?" he asked, adding quickly, "If you don't mind me asking."

Tindarien

He looks up as the Sergeant sits beside him, though his fingers continue with cleaning the key.

"I am well."

He nods politely in response but then guesses why the Sergeant might be asking.

"Hopeful that we might rescue Nestaron in the morning."

His voice is level but controlled.

"And how are you Sergeant? I suspect this has been very different than you might have expected. But you have done well to stay the pace."

Jex

He hands the key over to Tindarien.

[[ ooc: Somehow missed that request earlier. Sorry. ]]

<Weston>

He continued to think ... and to listen to the discussions around him. Most of this was new ... at least new in the sense that he was involved rather than listening to 'tall tales' around the camp fire of an evening. He wondered if his dismissal of some of those tales was a mistake. If he had heard this tale so far he might have dismissed it out of hand.

He was also thinking about what Red Ed had been about ... selling out these folks, apparently his friends, for the sake of some item that might have advanced some 'quest'. As far as he was concerned, the ends did =not= justify the means. Had Ed lost his way or was that what the Order had coerced him ... directly or indirectly ... into doing?

And he was thinking about the confrontation tomorrow ... how best to use their resources to defeat a legend. It seemed a tall order for the group. But he didn't doubt that they had to try. They had to try to save their friend. But they also had to figure out how to stop the pollution of the river ...

Sergeant Almador

Relieved by the high elf's amicable response, the Sergeant sat down next to him with a grunt.

"I'm tired, sir! But you know what, it is not an 'old' tired, it's a 'young' tired. And well, I suppose that makes a nice change!" He said with a wink.

He watched what Tindarien was doing, while formulating more words.

"Sir. It might not mean much, coming from an old codger like me, but um, I will not leave this benighted mountain without you, or any of our party. Not if it kills me, sir.

"After today, I realise that you don't need me here to save the town. Never did. But maybe I have a more important purpose? To help save you and your companions, and in doing so help save my town, and the next town, and the town after that." Said Almador earnestly.

Bearkiller

Rocking back, the tribesman cocked his head and looked at D as if the dark elf might be touched by the gods.

"Black above, white below. This is not war paint, it is the night mask, worn by those whose deed should not be seen by light of day." He muttered.

"When chief declare dark deed must be done, a warrior must step forward. They are exiled, they become a 'ghost'." Bearkiller explained, without relish, "They are feared by our tribe. Feared more by our enemies. And there is only one who is woman, Moonshadow. Did she step forward, or did she always walk that path? No-one know."

The halfling stared gravely at D.

"If you she see her in dream, bad omen for you." He said.

D

He offered the halfling a grim smile. "Many bad omens follow me. I stick knives in them till they regret it."

Turn his head he offered "for the fire bomb idea. That rum is also used as a poison onboard ships to kill seagulls and when very desperate thin with a lot of water to drink. It is very flammable and would probably work well for your application."

[Quickly edited your post to prevent confusion, Pandemonium. The Eight-Score rum Weston has is the seagull poison. (Which might tell you something about its suitability as a beverage.) Your original text is below:
There is this poison that we use onboard ships to kill seagulls and when very desperate thin with a lot of water to drink. It is very flammable and would probably work well for your application. It is far better than the liquor for such a task." He produced a flask of the oily substance.]

<Weston>

"It has also 'poisoned' many a sailor", he said with a grin. "The question is how best to use it. My initial thought was to cover the dragon ... throwing or pouring it ... and then igniting it. But there is another technique that involves putting it into a more fragile container than this", he said, holding up the bottle, "with a wick that is lit. I have never used the latter so would be more comfortable with the former. But I am willing to go with the consensus", he finished with a shrug.

Tindarien

He lifts his head from his careful task for just a moment to smile at the soldier beside him.

"Hopefully we will all survive tomorrow. At least we should think that way. We need to maintain a positive frame of mind. It helps our courage, to sharpen our minds and to aid us in working together. This has been a good group in that regard."

"And don't downplay your role here. Everyone has contributed what they can and that has been important. Besides, your presence here reminds us all just what we are fighting for. And that is invaluable. I would like to see you return safely to your family Almador. You have earned that."

He smiles again.

"And you have certainly earned the right to call me Tindarien. We are equals here."

"Now we all need to prepare as best we can for tomorrow. Get our rest, prepare our magics or our weapons, gather our courage and resolve."

It is not a dismissal, just a reminder.

"Weston."

He calls to get the fighter's attention.

"If the dragon wants your ring so badly, we should maybe try to find out why. It might be useful in the coming conflict. And be aware, it could make you a target..."

Seyja


The barbarian woman got to her feet, moved over to Weston's side and hunkered down.

"I never made the bombs myself... not by myself. But I watched and I helped. Together, I feel sure we could make one that should work."