It is true. In spite of the damage that the town suffered in the past several years, it now sprawls nearly half again as large as it used to.
The Triad
It is true. In spite of the damage that the town suffered in the past several years, it now sprawls nearly half again as large as it used to.
...
As soon as they arrive, Zenithral begins jogging off to the cottage for his armor while Halla prepares the spell. "I'll be just a moment,"
He returns a few minutes later donning brilliant half-plate, painted white and accented with red. He slows to a stop, armor clinking, then clears his throat and glances around. "Ready."
As Zenithral jogs up Alalla whistles. "Is that new? I didn't know Conlan could make something so pretty." She looks down at her own plate. It's well polished and cared for, with the Cagebreaker insignia etched into the chest plate, but armour that well used can only hold so much sheen, and she hadn't had a chance to get its latest set of dents and dings hammered out of it yet. "I think I need an upgrade."
She puts a fond hand on Zenithral's chest. "But no, the kind of wood I talk about is not cut or hewn. It is grown."
She looks at the Kuldahar tree with interest. "Is that a thing you can do?"
She stands straighter. "And to answer your question, I will pose another. What orc has done any good with its sorry life?"
Fenthick's abrupt plea shocks the half-elf into silence. "Look at these people. They are good, with good causes. Emancipating an entire culture from a tyrannical deity is something that can only make the world better for everyone." He takes her hand and looks her in the eye. "Please, curb your attitude and calm your bloodlust. What happened decades ago at Thundertree you have paid for in blood a dozen times over."
He looks entreatingly at everyone. "Can we please work together to instill hope in a world too full of evil?"
Al carries her characteristic impassive expression as she looks at Aribeth. "Gruumsh gave me a gift when I was born, you know. A burning in my gut and fire in my blood. Hunger. Anger. There's never enough blood to sate it." Her eyes are piercing. "But you wouldn't know anything about how that feels, would you?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Mind you don't become what you've been hunting. Now do your duty without griping about it, Lady Paladin, and ask Tyr your questions when you're done."
Rolls
Intimidate (Who's the child??) - (1d20+9)
(20) + 9 = 29
The druid examines the wooden tuning fork once more. "There is something about this... It almost seems to speak to me, with words I cannot hear." She leans against one of Kuldahar's great roots and is quiet for several moments. Then her eyes widen. "I know what to do."
Halla turns to examine the root behind her and places her hand high on a ridge of bark. Next her foot lifts to reach a ledge partway up the root. She looks over her shoulder to smile at the group. "Follow." Then her form blurs as she becomes a giant spider, eight shiny legs moving in harmony as she scuttles atop the root. Behind her she leaves a thick rope of webbing to help the others to climb, and she continues on up Kuldahar's trunk.
As Halla transforms and climbs up the tree, Zenithral chuckles. "Oh, now that's just not fair...!" He grabs the web rope and begins climbing after her.
Snorting at Zenithral's retort, Al sticks her glaive into the dirt and takes the rope as he climbs. "Not using your wings? I pray we won't need them later."
The view from here is remarkable. The town spreads out below, with some outlying farms visible within Kuldahar’s circle of warmth. And there at the edge is the Kuldahar Pass, with river, mill, and crumbling watchtower.
"Can you imagine what I would have done if someone told me before I left Targos two years ago what I would be today? A Paladin, or an orcish chief, or an elf's wife, or a mother? Let alone all of them at once. The gutsiest thing I had ever done before traveling the Kuldahar pass was playing a blood-crazed orc in the Targos arena!" She laughs quietly. "I had no idea how lost I was, just doing my best to hide in plain sight."