Part 3: Investigating the Moathouse Ruins

The dull sensation of movement near by pierces Mal's haze and she begins to thrash against her bindings once more. She couldn't tell how long she had been like this, only that her arms and legs had stopped feeling the pinprick sensation of circulatory pain long ago.

"Mmmmm! Mmmmmm! Mmmmm!"

While Eltrezar helps Gilly, Elmo and Angel go to the bundles. With one of his own daggers, Angel slices at the ropes at a point where he would not endanger anyone inside. If Elmo has no dagger of his own, he will hand his other danger to the big man.

Not a particularly imposing figure, Eltrezar moves his position to be standing between Gilly and these two strangers. He draws a dagger, but does not take on an offensive stance. "And who do we have here? Who are you, to be trapped in this place?"

Coughing as the gag comes out, a grubby looking dwarf sits rubbing the circulation back into her limbs. Her gaze darts around through narrowed eyes in search of danger but the only thing she can focus on is Gilly's bright red hair.

Eltrezar asks his questions and Maloria swivels around to face the mage.

"I'm Sister Mal of the Church of Cuthbert in Hommlet, and I thank ye kindly for your service. I was sent to find out who was squattin in this keep, but the buggers got the jump on me."

Mal stands up and stretches out her aching limbs,

"You haven't seen a hammer layin about have you?"

Gilly stands behind the magic user, peering between his legs as Angel goes about the work of cutting them loose. Her breathing starts to slow, as she begins to regain control of herself. With the emergence of two figures, she grabs her short sword as best she can, ready to defend herself if necessary! For now, she watches on as the meeting carries on!

Mal spots Gilly, sword in hand, and smiles at her broadly.

"Oi, good to see one of the wee-folk, and another red head at that!"

Mal claws distractedly at her own tangled mop while she admires the halfling's locks.

"Mind if I ask who sent you lot? Did the church round up a mob ta come an look for me?"

Sitting up, a deep scowl furrowing his craggy brow, the scars on his face warping to weird shapes with the movements of his face, the barbarian, rubbing his wrists to get his hands back to life as quick as possible, eyes the crowd around him suspiciously
"My sword..." he growls. "My thanks...." he groans slightly as he stands, eyeing the small halfling and the wizened old man in front of him, seeing the bared steel, taking a defensive posture. His eyes dart from blade to blade, and though he is clearly not ready or able to fight, he makes ready to defend himself should the need arise
"Who’re youse people? Youse the ones who caused the ruckus?"

Eltrezar's eyes narrow, but the dagger drops to his waist. Hearing the Dwarf speak the name of Cuthbert and mentioning coming from town helped put him at ease. But this wild man... he worried the magicker. Hrmph! "We're the ones who saved you from likely death, or worse. The church did not send us, no, but we came here on good terms with them. We were, instead, sent by our own desire to adventure and help the town... and by Brother Smythe. You had best be worth the trouble of trying to rescue you, as the danger in this small fort is seemingly insurmountable. We have already lost two of our own to battle, and sent a third back to town."

Recognizing that he is going on a rant instead of assisting the newcomers, he coughs and begins again. "But pardon my rudeness. My name is Eltrezar the Medium, known amongst the elves as Tarathiel, and the dwarves have called me Dalomdûmir." He eyes the new man up and down. "And the Barbarians of the North have titled me Hrattothvok. I have come to discover the secrets of this moathouse, and to investigate the strange men who have been seen here. My companions may each have their own unique quest, but we are all here ultimately for the same purpose. And now that you are freed, we would ask that you assist at least we return to the town. After all, you owe us your lives."

Looking at the old man with barely disguised contempt, Loken spits out "Yer a magicker? I’ll owe Ye naught." he spits at the floor as he fires his words out venomously.
He turns his head to take in the others there. The red headed halfling looks a handy sort, confident with that bow in her hand. He cranes his head to look upon the dwarf, his fellow captive "I could sense yer by my side. I trust you, as you was held bonded like me"

Mal examines the large, rough man and decides he is a good sort.

"Yes, I am Sister Maloria, but you can call me Mal. It looks like they wanted us for a reason, though I know not what. From where were you taken warrior?"

"Tis Loken, Sister. I were taken on the road t’ward ‘Ommlet. I was camping, and awoke bound and gagged. I assume they had a filthy magicker to stop me awaking and putting steel to them.......
Looking around more, Loken spies Elmo and Angel. His eyes narrow once more "Be there more of youse? A small group who has felled a con mighty enough to capture two warriors must be mighty indeed......unless you had help of the dark arts? he sneers this list but as he looks darkly at Eltrezar

The look on Eltrezar's face could speak volumes towards the insult he takes. "If you'd prefer, we can tie you back up and let you wait for another band to find you. We'll even leave a sign outside, 'damsel in distress inside, arcanists need not apply'." He spits these words, clearly meaning to upset this new warrior. "But I believe it is in everyone's best interest if you stop your griping and help us for now. It is just the four of us, down from the seven who began this expedition."

Mal puts up both hands toward Eltrezar in defense of her partner in captivity and smiles agreeably.

"No offense Sir, I spent time among the hill folk and I know their ways. Loken here is likely a man of stout heart, but his kind are raised ta hold no faith in magic."

Mal places a hand on the wildman's bicep in comfort.

"As for us, we be lucky this lot came along, and true enough you an I is in their debt. A life debt not to be taken lightly aye?"

Having a hard time making out the man's words, the dwarf leans in and listens intently. The gist seems to be that he wants them to use the weapons of the brigands' and on that point, Mal agrees.

"True enough, the cads you slew left decent steel likely, lead us to it good sir!"

Another scoff from Eltrezar before he turns his back to the barbarian, and returns the dagger to his belt. "Are you all right little one? Are you able to keep going?"