Norwick's envoys and the goblins of the West Rawlins
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It becomes quite apparent when Rag takes a close look at the goblin that it isn't Grahk. The goblin seems much smaller and shorter and wears ill fitting armor as if made for another. As she cleans the clay the goblin stirs and awakens quickly opening it's eyes open to stare right at Rag. Before anyone can react the goblin throws it's arms about Rag and starts kissing her on the cheeks with great enthusiasm leaving behind white clay. After a few it lets go and bears a wide smile
It you! You come save Mark!
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Dwin raises his axe a bit higher in the air, should it need to come down on something in the next few seconds.
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Calming down somewhat and smoothing back a few tangled curls from her face, Ragnhild approaches the goblin figure, kneeling beside Tindra to take a good look at it. She touches a fingertip to its cheek, lightly, as if testing it for solidity or signs of life. Provided the goblin doesn't move, she then wets a rag with some ale, wiping carefully at its face, whispering with barely contained hope in her voice:
"Father?"
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Belin grunts
da fark is wrong here. she looks around the cavern dis nay beh right ragger.
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:: The clay is thick and covers the goblin bodies completely and it takes time for Belin to determine if the goblin that was previously unmoving is dead. Poking a hole in the clay releases the smell of death.
Tindra inspecting the 'ghost' catches the faint smell of goblin and the stench of urine. As Tindra inspects the goblin, it lets out a loud snore.::
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The sudden collapse of the goblin startles Tindra a bit. She perks her head up and cocks it to the side, staring at the goblin curiously. Carefully, she slinks over to the goblin and sniffs at it.
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dark eyes look to ragn
aye
she taps at the clay on the nearest goblin testing its solidity. she checks for signs of life if it is just a thin layer smeared over top of goblin hide.
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Ragnhild flinches and takes an involuntary step back as the goblin figure keels over, exclaiming out loud:
"Witcheri!!"
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The white goblin form glances at the moving party and…falls over with a loud clank onto the ground.
:: bela notes the goblin corpses all seems covered in some sort of white clay from head to toe::
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Belin takes a step back from Ragnhild and looks over the goblin corpses.
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Tindra nods to Ragnhild, acknowledging her request. The feline slinks back a bit and turns her attention to her surroundings while keeping an eye on the white goblin. She tries to see what lies beyond the goblin. If the goblin doesn't appear to take notice of Tindra, she moves stealthily to block any possible exit routes should the goblin decide to run.
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Dwin nods knowingly.
O course, lass. Tis your honor here. But if we see any signs of witchery at work that would prove to be treacherous, or you ask for us, we'll be at your side in a heart-beat.
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A glint of anger sparks in Ragnhild's eyes at the ghost's words. She remains unmoving, feet so stubbornly set into the ground that it seems it would take a giant to budge her even an inch.
"Grahk's daughter is not dead, she is NOT liar and she is not going avay. Grahk kan tri to make daughter move, but he vill onli lose another wrestel match to her then."
Under her breath, she murmurs to the others:
"They all truli dead, or is this some sort trickeri or nasti magicks at worrk? Either vay, I vill fajt him if need to. I ask you let me do so alone, for if I kan not prove vorthy, we have no business be here at all."
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Tindra stays back a bit when Ragnhild steps forward to speak to the white goblin. She tries her best to stay in the shadows, crouching low and ready to pounce forward should Ragnhild order an attack. Her eyes, ears, and nose are fixed on the white goblin.
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(( clarification: he didn't come out of the ground, he was just crouched over and stood up))
_The figure gestures to the bodies.
'You lie, clan all dead, Grahk dead. You go, go away, or Grahk kill you.'
:: makes shooing motions::
'You go now'_
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Belin who was heard to be agreeing about the ale stops abruptly at Ragnhild does. She moves to Ragnhilds other side flanking her. She leaves Tindra to figure out where a cat belongs.
Yer sure dat un ghost. Remember dat wus un gobber statue back there. mebbe they are trying tuh trick long shanks?
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_Dwin makes his way through the halls and rooms, having switched out Luckbringer for the smaller, more agile Steelcutter.
A few times he pokes through the supplies looking for traps. "Bait" he mumbles a few times, but finds nothing out of the ordinary.
When the ghost materializes he takes up a flanking stance to the side of Rag as she speaks, and awaits a signal from her, or the ghost for that matter, on how to proceed._
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_Ragnhild moves warily through the caves, seemingly constantly ready for trouble at each new room entered and grunting slightly to find nothing but well-kept and well-stocked facilities. Relaxing slightly at the lack of murderous minotaurs or soul-sucking succubi, she makes a half-hearted comment about having to find the ale storage, when at last they reach the final room.
Ragnhild trails off and grinds to a halt, eyes going wide at the sight of the rows upon rows of bodies. As the ghost appears before them, she grips her spear with whitened knuckles, murmuring in her native tongue and making a warding gesture with her free hand. Her face is pale with fright, but her posture straight and proud as she steps forwards to face the ghost._
"Grahk himself send me, his daughter here, and -no one-, not even his ghost, vill make me leave until I find vhat he vished for me to find."
She sets her jaw stubbornly after this statement, holding her spear with both hands as she plants firmly infront of her and looking straight at the ghost with defiance in her glacial blue eyes.
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_The constant breeze plays havoc on Tindra's attempts to determine what's ahead. The breeze is damp and smells of old goblins and metal. Delving deeper into the caves the party crosses the makeshift walkway. The floor slopes even more steeply for 30 ft then opens into a large room. The center of the room looms a deep dark hole from which a steady breeze blows from. Several pieces of miscellaneous armor and weapons seem hung across the hole producing the odd banging. On the other side of the room a tunnel heads for a good forty feet before turning right. From here the party can smell goblin, old goblin smells, and something else, goblin but odd. Heading down the passage the party finds a dozen large rooms. Several seem dedicated to storage with enough supplies for 100 hundred men (or 200 goblins) to last months. Other rooms seem dedicated to worship, combat training, cooking, and a meeting hall. All of them seem in very good upkeep, oddly so. Finally the party comes to the last room down the tunnel, a large room stretching several hundred feet across. At one time it was perhaps a sleeping area, now it houses naught but row after row of goblin bodies covered in some white substance.
No sooner has the party taken in the view when a white goblin figure clad in armor rises some 60 ft away from the ground.
'Me ghost of Grahk, flee now before me kill all. Leave this place!'_
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Tindra slinks alongside Ragnhild, pausing a moment to look at the goblin "statue." Her ears twitch back and forth, trying to catch all the sounds around her as she looks about for any odd signs. Every now and then, she takes sniffs the air, hoping for some odd scent that will clue her in on what may lie ahead.
