He looks towards the entrance of the cave suddenly. "There was a devil watching us, invisible. It’s gone now." He curses in Orcish. "If Belhifet could not sense that Ilmadia’s pact was broken, he’ll certainly be informed by whatever spy that was." He raises a fine eyebrow toward Ilmadia. "Your ‘loyal’ familiar, perhaps?"
Orc Cave
He looks towards the entrance of the cave suddenly. "There was a devil watching us, invisible. It’s gone now." He curses in Orcish. "If Belhifet could not sense that Ilmadia’s pact was broken, he’ll certainly be informed by whatever spy that was." He raises a fine eyebrow toward Ilmadia. "Your ‘loyal’ familiar, perhaps?"
Arannis, as much a plea for solitude after the morning’s events as anything else, offers to go out scouting.
Erevain wants to go and try to make contact with Marrugh and his Cagebreakers.
Halla claims that she can send animal messengers to communicate with the other Ten Towns, or perhaps the allies left in Kuldahar.
...
"Belfeit's highest ranked officer is now free and on our side. While she may not have his power, we now have a much better idea of what we're up against. Everard is a devout priest, but torture and magic may lead to him giving up the secrets of the portal soon. We must rescue...him. We're up against ill odds, but we always have been. And we always make it through. Let us each do what we can to bring all we can to awareness and preparedness."
HP 97/105 + 15 THP
Rolls
Hit Dice - (12d10+12)
(1031935866666) + 12 = 81
More - (1d8+1, 1d6+1)
1d8+1 : (7) + 1 = 8
1d6+1 : (2) + 1 = 3
"A dwerf knows the ways o' the nomad. Been following Marthammor Duin's path fer some time now. If yer people are as worried for their own as you yerselves were, perhaps they can be convinced to stay true to the North and not follow some usurper's way."
Al taps her glaive- safely resummoned- gently on the glass ground as the thinks. "Erevain, I think it would be better if you go to Keggruk's portion of the tribe, while I go to Morrugh. Halla, definitely send those messengers. Anyone in Kuldahar that can come will be needed. As for the Towns, tell them to march their militias on Easthaven. A good defence is offence in this case, I believe. Any information you can gather for us would be welcome, Arannis."
Frowning, Alalla gives a final thump. "I would prefer none of us go alone, but I'm not sure where you and your family are best suited, Zenithral."
Rolls
Second wind - (1d10+11)
(8) + 11 = 19
Reòthadh, Hjollsted, and the five berserkers leave.
He plants a kiss on Alalla’s lips and gives the others a wave. "Farewell!"
She whistles, and a minute later several small white-and-black birds settle on her arm. The druid settles down to give each of them some instructions.
"Anyone want to come with me? Zenithral?" Only a slight pause. "Ilmadia?"
She frowns slightly, the glances back at Halla, talking to her birds. "I am not opposed to leaving if the druid will be here for the twins," Ilmadia says at last, "but I will go where my son goes."
During the party's rest, Ilmadia's complexion has warmed, and some energy has returned to her. As she shoots a smile at Zenithral, he notices that even her eyes have changed, returning to the colour her remembers from his youth. She is truly free from Belhifet's chains.
"That is, unless he plans to stay with his wife, and objects. You and Halla are still honeymooning, I suppose." She throws a wink Zenithral's way.
"At any rate, I think I'll accompany Alalla," he looks to Halla for confirmation. "If trouble shows up, I'd be more of a burden than help here."
"In any case, as your paladin said: Time is of the essence. Though," she brushes her armour, "Do you have a spare something to make me a little less recognizable?" Ilmadia eyes Alalla's snowy cloak coyly.
He gives his head a quick shake and clears his negative dwellings. He's genuinely happy to see Ilmadia in such good spirits. But perhaps there was something to be said about enjoying the journey. The sweetness of recent events certainly made some of the tortures of their past journeyings worthwhile.
Nearby, Halla sits cross-legged with several small birds on her arm. Her eyes are closed in concentration as she chants a ritual, but at the appearance of the two she cracks one eye open, then shuts it again.
Saki bends over a campfire, preparing some meal. It does not smell particularly appetizing.
Hjollsted looks up at a Reòthadh in awe. "How is it you have kept such vitality over the years, my friend? You seem even mightier than before being entombed in ice for centuries!"
"One can only guess what strange magics have preserved this dwerf. A fool of a dwerf might suppose he’s living his last 300 years all at once."
Reòthadh attempts to take a short rest and then watch for the coming tribesmen.
Saki samples the meal in her cooking pot, then shrugs and covers it with a lid. She walks over to Hjollsted and calmly rolls up her sleeves. "For serving the Lord of Battles, you seem to be on the losing side rather often." She begins tending to the old shaman’s wounds, first removing the javelins and then cleaning and bandaging the wounds.
The small woman nods her head towards the pot. "Have yourself some food, Reòthadh."