Nashkel Mine

Aiwë curses loudly, dropping the sword and shaking her hands to soothe the burns. "Oh yeah! My orcish line helped kill their own god and liberate an entire people! Best thing a blooded-Blacksheaf ever did was provide moral support!" The rational part of her immediately feels terrible for the undeserved slight on her father and his family, but mostly she only feels her own sweeping rage. She pulls back a foot to kick the sword all the way over to Xan.

She hesitates, foot wavering with a conflict of will. Xan noticed her lineage, she's sure he did. He hasn't expressed opinion yet, but he might if she does her best to dent his prized moonblade on every stone between here and where he lies in trance. Her father always saw everything when he tranced.

"Ugh!" Shelur shrieks with irritation, then sits sharply with her back to the sword, staring glumly at the burns on her hands.

Runeson's quiet arrival startles her. "Oh! Thank you. It was quite a burn from a nasty sword." She squeezes his hands in thanks and brightens somewhat. "Now I can play again." She pulls out her lyre and begins to play her father's favourite lullabies, her brow still uncharacteristically creased.

"…I feel like we are talking about two different things let’s just get rested and get out of here " Dieter says closing the subject. He feels the Longsword in his hand and tests its balance. "This is a fine blade forged with love and care" luckily his experience with this sword is much better than Aiwë’s with her ancestral relic. "That one might have been crafted with…different techniques" Dieter walks over to her and tries a little dance from home with a similar beat to her lullaby though Dieter has never danced to a lullaby before.

Stella shivers at the bleakness in his oration. "Are you sure you're related?" she asks Aiwë after he falls asleep.

After setting up wards and identifying each item through her pearl, she eyes the longsword with suspicion as Dieter wields it, then eyes the morningstar. Both were magically sharper and lighter, but the sword required the wielder to attune to it to feel the benefits. Was one just a more refined enhancement than the other?

"Lady of Mystery, is there a mystery?"

Restored to good cheer by her Runeson's care and Dieter's dance, Aiwë finishes pouting.
"Oh yeah," she grins. "Ada was super mopey before he died. I've read his journals. Not as bad as Xan," she admits, "but did you hear his poetry?" Clearly the bleakness of his words is not what stuck out to her.

Aiwë grabbed Mulahey's pillow and carefully scooped the moonblade up with the pillowcase. "And this thing probably got my family through centuries during which it's... opinions were well-founded and kept the Blacksheaf line alive." She regarded it in its cotton prison. "Its unfortunate to be crafted with a trait that served so well, and is becoming so irrelevant." Her face bears both a sorrowful look for the tragic and romantic fate of the sword, and also a glint of spite.

She walks to Xan and lays it next to him within reach. "Your sword, Cousin Xan," she says quietly, then leaves him to his rest.

"Deiter," she says. She starts to stand but the pain in her ribs flares up and she opts to stay seated. "I think it's cursed. Ironically, I don't think the morningstar is. It's certainly not as elegant, but its—" she winces, "—just as deadly. Best leave the sword here. Unless Sheemish thinks it could be smelted down? I don't know if I'd trust whatever it gets made into though."

"Take these, though," she says, about to toss the boots. She stops and simply holds them out to avoid more pain. "They make no sound when you move, which might come in handy."

"Runeson," she calls. "Do you want this cloak? While the cowl is up, it provides exceptional camouflage and muffle the sound of your armor in you ever need to stay unseen."

Shelur jumps up. "Sit tight, Stella, we've got this," she whispers.

"Halt and speak your name!" Aiwë calls, but it is not her voice, but Mulahey's. "Obey, lest you find my new defenses!"

Aiwë casts minor illusion to imitate Mulahey.

Aiwë looks at the others. She gestures to the entryway, signalling them to prepare for ambush.

In Mulahey's voice she sighs irritably. "Yes, yes, they are here. A group this large I am still working my... trickeries. However I have learned some concerning things from their minds. Come in, we must discuss."

Persuasion roll in case you want it. For deception, it is -1 the existing roll.

Dieter waits for the voice to appear. When it doesn’t he checks the ceiling and behind them. If he sees nothing he’ll come charging down the corridor to prevent escape.

Dieter hurls his spear at the archer before taking cover behind a rock. Once in cover dieter snaps the arrow shaft off and throws it away in anger classic Dieter How did you fall for that.

hp10/25

Stella's relieved to see Dieter keep moving. The arrow must not have hit deep.

Or, like Aiwë, Dieter's body was as sturdy as he was foolish.

Stella strides out of the doorway just enough to see the archer, then fires an arrow of ice with frost training behind it like a comet. Then, without waiting to see if it hits, ducks back inside, out of view. The arrow shoots past the enemy archer, then falls back down right on top of it, bursting into a cloud of frost, chilling his bones.

(Archer takes 6 cold damage and has disadvantage on its first attack next round.)

"Imoen, Stella says, tossing the pink-haired girl a couple fire arrows to use. "Use them if you can find a way around his rocks, or if you can find a place to surprise him from."

HP: 6 / 22
AC 13