"uh Glister?" The gnome takes a step back from the chessboard and ducks reactively as one of the korreds launches a bouldery projectile in the other direction.
Once the shock of the sudden tantrum passes, it's clear that there are no 'brigganocks' in the immediate vicinity, nor within range of any hurling boulders... The queen's outburst was simply a display of frustration. Glister and Amidor look just as startled by the emotional eruption as anyone. Argantle turns back to the group, still fuming, her stiff hair all aquiver.
Those thrice-cursed brigganocks! As if the noise of their mining wasn't bad enough! To think they would stoop so low as to ally themselves with Bitter End. Helping her they are! Building wicked contraptions for her! Curse them! Curse them all!
Jagu also has his arms firmly crossed, a deep scowl on his face, and he thumps the ground with his hooves with each exclamation from the queen. There is no forgiveness for that hag, he adds. She did the unthinkable... She... cut our hair!
Jagu turns his face away in shame, and Argantle howls to the sky in dismay. Even Amidor can be heard to gasp at this. She didn't!
Oh yes! cries another voice, as a third korred pops out of the granite block that Barria just departed. (Immediately Barria notices the thrum disappear from the granite monolith). With those shears of hers!
The ones she uses to cut people's shadows off! cries a fourth voice, from the korred of the slate column.
Iron shears to make iron rope from our lovely hair! says the korred emerging from the obsidian monolith.
Then uses it to manipulate her machines! says the newly-arrived marble korred.
And to harness the lightning, adds the korred of basalt.
There is a pause as all eyes turn to witness the arrival of the eighth and final korred from the flint monolith. But nothing happens. Barria can sense that the stone is still occupied, however. After a brief wait, Queen Argantle of Shale speaks once more:
The brigganocks have brought this shame upon us. We were once our kin in spirit. They sang with the stones, as we do. But now their scratching offends the stone, and their silence offends us more. They will not answer when we call. They will not come to dance! They only scurry in the cracks, and the stones say their feet carry the talk of hags.
She stamps a hoof, and the ground gives a dull thoom.
We are korreds! We will not go crawling into their burrows to beg. But you outsiders, perhaps they will hear you. Go to them if you will. Tell them the korreds demand the Dance of Three Circles as atonement for their insult. If they will not dance, then they choose enmity — and the stones will stand against them.
Her sharp eyes fix on the party.
Do this, and you will have our goodwill — for what it is worth. Refuse, and we will not stop you from walking our hills… but the hills may not be so kind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
I don't see any harm in playing messenger for the Korred if it means an easier travel to the Motherhorn. The way they move into and out of the rocks, and throw them for that matter, does worry me that they could be quite a problem if we refuse them.
Mulligan suggests this over the group chat and waits to see what the others think about the offer. As he does he examines the star sapphire he was given before tucking it away in a well secured pocket of his coat. (This just a normal sapphire I should note in inventory or...?)
Rowan watches and listens with delight as the other Korreds appear from each of their stones.
"Bitter End," Rowan says. "I just learned that was one of the hag's names. But she cuts hair too? Does all the hair she cuts with the scissors become iron? What happens to the shadows she cuts off?"
While he ponders those questions, waiting for an answer, he wanders over to the flint stone and knocks on the side.
"Hello?"
He looks back to the other Korreds.
"And, do they have to come here to do the stone dance, or do they do it for us and we come back and tell you they did it?"
At the thought of the korreds hair being cut Greg grins slightly, the petty foibles of these strange creatures, but his hands still go to his own beard subconsciously protecting himself at the thought, he becomes a little more determined at Milligan's words.
"The bitter end stole from me... or had her shadow pets do it, and it was part of a more elaborate scheme against two cowardly carnival owners. These haha cheat and steal and if doing this will help those allied with her turn their back on her then I'm all for it."
Argantle folds her arms, her hair bristling like a storm cloud caught in mid-boil. You must understand: our hair is not mere hair. Each strand is spun with the strength of the stone itself. When cut, it becomes whatever tool was used to cut it. Shears of iron make iron rope. Bronze makes bronze. Even gold, if the scissors are gold.
Another korred, this one still dusted white from the chalk monolith, shudders visibly. It is a shame worse than baldness. To cut a korred’s hair without leave is to strip them of pride and power both.
The marble korred adds: And she uses what she takes. We have heard of ropes of our own hair coiling like snakes to pull the gears of her infernal machines.
A murmur runs through the assembled korreds, their hooves stamping a soft, anxious rhythm.
Meanwhile, Barria glances sidelong at Rowan, who has pressed his ear against the flint monolith as if trying to catch a whispered word. She herself feels only the deep, steady thrum of the stone, but the elf nods solemnly, as though he has heard something meaningful. Such a strange elf!
As Rowan removes himself from the flint stone and asks his question, Queen Argantle interrupts the murmuring and speaks again: Enough. The lad speaks! She looks at Rowan as she replies, but seems to be addressing all: These outsiders will convince the brigganocks to turn their backs on Bitter End. If the traitors have a spark of honor left, they will meet us at the crater lake, and dance the Three Circles, and all is forgiven.
The korreds brighten, their earlier fury giving way to excitement. Another of the clan leaders, his hair glittering with chips of obsidian, tugs eagerly at Argantle’s arm. Shall we dance now, my queen? Shall we call the stones to witness?
Argantle shakes her head, the motion setting her hair swaying like a curtain of roots. Not yet. We wait. If the brigganocks come, they come of their own will. Then the stones will know who is friend and who is worm.
The korreds all nod and stamp their hooves once, in unison — a sound like a drumbeat rolling over the plateau. Amidor and Gleam have stood back and listened passively for the most part, not having anything to contribute or volunteer of themselves to the korreds. But now both step toward where Mulligan and Greginald stand (still in the center of the ring by the game board) and say: This is a noble gesture. Whatever the outcome, both groups will remember you for this chivalry. I don't know what this will mean for my sister, but I will come with you and help you, if you wish it.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Rowan looks slightly puzzled when he backs up from the stone he was listening to.
"Zephyr?" Rowan says. "I wonder what that means."
He turns but then stops and turns back to the stone.
"Bye then."
Rowan tries to keep everything that comes after straight in his head. "Crater Lake and the Three Circles. Okay. That seems simple enough. I hope the Brigganocks are as interesting as this lot were."
He looks over at Amidor "Do you know the way to where the Brigganocks live?"
If the hair is cut by flesh, or say pulled apart, does it make a fleshy, living rope that can grow?
Mulligan accidentally wonders this "aloud" to the Group Chat.
Yes, Mulligan thinks but doesn't sure, too tiring to share with everyone. Yes, it is obviously quite the insult to be stolen from. More so when it is something so personal. And to have it used for purposes that goes against what you would support... This angers and riles Mulligan but he swallows his frustrations rather than try to express his understanding to all of the Korreds.
Convince? We cannot promise to convince!
Mulligan is quick to send to Rowan.
We shall certainly bring your message. Will try to convince, yes. Will do our best. But we do not even know them. We cannot promise...
Mulligan looks to Gleam and Amidor when they come and speak to g'ReGiNaLd and has a bit of a concerned look on his face, still worried the Korreds may have believe a deeper promise was given than the little band of intrepid foreigners he is a part of intended. Still, it didn't seem like they were open to listening to him trying to temper their hopes now...
We can use all the help we can get.
He sends this to them both, more sure of that than anything.
"What did the stone say? Zephyr?" Barria asks Rowan as he steps away from the monolith.
She frowns as she listens to korreds, then sighs. "G'reg I guess I should appologize. It sounds like this hag is a bit more nefarious than I had originally thought. I like to give all the benefit of the doubt before judgement is passed. Well, cutting off shadows and taking such a sacred part of these poor creatures, that just won't do." she shakes her head.
"Yes, we shall do what we can to help get the brigganocks to dance! Why, who wouldn't want to dance? That sounds like such a joyful time and ooh.. we shall have ale and bread and well, a proper feast for all of this, right? So, where do we find these brigganocks? And would you mind giving us a description? We want to make sure we are dealing with the right creatures. How silly would it be if we had a set of dwarfs or goblins come and dance in stead? Oh, wouldn't that be quite the mixup!"
As they get directions sorted out and get ready to head off on the next part of their grand adventure, Rowan smiles at Barria and shakes his head.
"Mmm, yes, Zephyr." Rowan says. "I think it's a kind of wind. I'm not sure though. But when I knocked, the stone kind of knocked back and said something like 'little zephyr' and leave it be."
Rowan shrugs but then adds. "They also said that they remembered me. Well they actually said the stone remembers you but I assumed they meant me, but I guess it could have been anyone. You maybe? Have you been here before? I've never met them before."
Then he laughs. "I am getting hungry. Ale and bread sounds good."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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"uh Glister?" The gnome takes a step back from the chessboard and ducks reactively as one of the korreds launches a bouldery projectile in the other direction.
Once the shock of the sudden tantrum passes, it's clear that there are no 'brigganocks' in the immediate vicinity, nor within range of any hurling boulders... The queen's outburst was simply a display of frustration. Glister and Amidor look just as startled by the emotional eruption as anyone. Argantle turns back to the group, still fuming, her stiff hair all aquiver.
Those thrice-cursed brigganocks! As if the noise of their mining wasn't bad enough! To think they would stoop so low as to ally themselves with Bitter End. Helping her they are! Building wicked contraptions for her! Curse them! Curse them all!
Jagu also has his arms firmly crossed, a deep scowl on his face, and he thumps the ground with his hooves with each exclamation from the queen. There is no forgiveness for that hag, he adds. She did the unthinkable... She... cut our hair!
Jagu turns his face away in shame, and Argantle howls to the sky in dismay. Even Amidor can be heard to gasp at this. She didn't!
Oh yes! cries another voice, as a third korred pops out of the granite block that Barria just departed. (Immediately Barria notices the thrum disappear from the granite monolith). With those shears of hers!
The ones she uses to cut people's shadows off! cries a fourth voice, from the korred of the slate column.
Iron shears to make iron rope from our lovely hair! says the korred emerging from the obsidian monolith.
Then uses it to manipulate her machines! says the newly-arrived marble korred.
And to harness the lightning, adds the korred of basalt.
There is a pause as all eyes turn to witness the arrival of the eighth and final korred from the flint monolith. But nothing happens. Barria can sense that the stone is still occupied, however. After a brief wait, Queen Argantle of Shale speaks once more:
The brigganocks have brought this shame upon us. We were once our kin in spirit. They sang with the stones, as we do. But now their scratching offends the stone, and their silence offends us more. They will not answer when we call. They will not come to dance! They only scurry in the cracks, and the stones say their feet carry the talk of hags.
She stamps a hoof, and the ground gives a dull thoom.
We are korreds! We will not go crawling into their burrows to beg. But you outsiders, perhaps they will hear you. Go to them if you will. Tell them the korreds demand the Dance of Three Circles as atonement for their insult. If they will not dance, then they choose enmity — and the stones will stand against them.
Her sharp eyes fix on the party.
Do this, and you will have our goodwill — for what it is worth. Refuse, and we will not stop you from walking our hills… but the hills may not be so kind.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
I don't see any harm in playing messenger for the Korred if it means an easier travel to the Motherhorn. The way they move into and out of the rocks, and throw them for that matter, does worry me that they could be quite a problem if we refuse them.
Mulligan suggests this over the group chat and waits to see what the others think about the offer. As he does he examines the star sapphire he was given before tucking it away in a well secured pocket of his coat. (This just a normal sapphire I should note in inventory or...?)
Rowan watches and listens with delight as the other Korreds appear from each of their stones.
"Bitter End," Rowan says. "I just learned that was one of the hag's names. But she cuts hair too? Does all the hair she cuts with the scissors become iron? What happens to the shadows she cuts off?"
While he ponders those questions, waiting for an answer, he wanders over to the flint stone and knocks on the side.
"Hello?"
He looks back to the other Korreds.
"And, do they have to come here to do the stone dance, or do they do it for us and we come back and tell you they did it?"
At the thought of the korreds hair being cut Greg grins slightly, the petty foibles of these strange creatures, but his hands still go to his own beard subconsciously protecting himself at the thought, he becomes a little more determined at Milligan's words.
"The bitter end stole from me... or had her shadow pets do it, and it was part of a more elaborate scheme against two cowardly carnival owners. These haha cheat and steal and if doing this will help those allied with her turn their back on her then I'm all for it."
Argantle folds her arms, her hair bristling like a storm cloud caught in mid-boil.
You must understand: our hair is not mere hair. Each strand is spun with the strength of the stone itself. When cut, it becomes whatever tool was used to cut it. Shears of iron make iron rope. Bronze makes bronze. Even gold, if the scissors are gold.
Another korred, this one still dusted white from the chalk monolith, shudders visibly.
It is a shame worse than baldness. To cut a korred’s hair without leave is to strip them of pride and power both.
The marble korred adds:
And she uses what she takes. We have heard of ropes of our own hair coiling like snakes to pull the gears of her infernal machines.
A murmur runs through the assembled korreds, their hooves stamping a soft, anxious rhythm.
Meanwhile, Barria glances sidelong at Rowan, who has pressed his ear against the flint monolith as if trying to catch a whispered word. She herself feels only the deep, steady thrum of the stone, but the elf nods solemnly, as though he has heard something meaningful. Such a strange elf!
As Rowan removes himself from the flint stone and asks his question, Queen Argantle interrupts the murmuring and speaks again:
Enough. The lad speaks!
She looks at Rowan as she replies, but seems to be addressing all:
These outsiders will convince the brigganocks to turn their backs on Bitter End. If the traitors have a spark of honor left, they will meet us at the crater lake, and dance the Three Circles, and all is forgiven.
The korreds brighten, their earlier fury giving way to excitement. Another of the clan leaders, his hair glittering with chips of obsidian, tugs eagerly at Argantle’s arm.
Shall we dance now, my queen? Shall we call the stones to witness?
Argantle shakes her head, the motion setting her hair swaying like a curtain of roots.
Not yet. We wait. If the brigganocks come, they come of their own will. Then the stones will know who is friend and who is worm.
The korreds all nod and stamp their hooves once, in unison — a sound like a drumbeat rolling over the plateau. Amidor and Gleam have stood back and listened passively for the most part, not having anything to contribute or volunteer of themselves to the korreds. But now both step toward where Mulligan and Greginald stand (still in the center of the ring by the game board) and say:
This is a noble gesture. Whatever the outcome, both groups will remember you for this chivalry.
I don't know what this will mean for my sister, but I will come with you and help you, if you wish it.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Rowan looks slightly puzzled when he backs up from the stone he was listening to.
"Zephyr?" Rowan says. "I wonder what that means."
He turns but then stops and turns back to the stone.
"Bye then."
Rowan tries to keep everything that comes after straight in his head. "Crater Lake and the Three Circles. Okay. That seems simple enough. I hope the Brigganocks are as interesting as this lot were."
He looks over at Amidor "Do you know the way to where the Brigganocks live?"
If the hair is cut by flesh, or say pulled apart, does it make a fleshy, living rope that can grow?
Mulligan accidentally wonders this "aloud" to the Group Chat.
Yes, Mulligan thinks but doesn't sure, too tiring to share with everyone. Yes, it is obviously quite the insult to be stolen from. More so when it is something so personal. And to have it used for purposes that goes against what you would support... This angers and riles Mulligan but he swallows his frustrations rather than try to express his understanding to all of the Korreds.
Convince? We cannot promise to convince!
Mulligan is quick to send to Rowan.
We shall certainly bring your message. Will try to convince, yes. Will do our best. But we do not even know them. We cannot promise...
Mulligan looks to Gleam and Amidor when they come and speak to g'ReGiNaLd and has a bit of a concerned look on his face, still worried the Korreds may have believe a deeper promise was given than the little band of intrepid foreigners he is a part of intended. Still, it didn't seem like they were open to listening to him trying to temper their hopes now...
We can use all the help we can get.
He sends this to them both, more sure of that than anything.
"What did the stone say? Zephyr?" Barria asks Rowan as he steps away from the monolith.
She frowns as she listens to korreds, then sighs. "G'reg I guess I should appologize. It sounds like this hag is a bit more nefarious than I had originally thought. I like to give all the benefit of the doubt before judgement is passed. Well, cutting off shadows and taking such a sacred part of these poor creatures, that just won't do." she shakes her head.
"Yes, we shall do what we can to help get the brigganocks to dance! Why, who wouldn't want to dance? That sounds like such a joyful time and ooh.. we shall have ale and bread and well, a proper feast for all of this, right? So, where do we find these brigganocks? And would you mind giving us a description? We want to make sure we are dealing with the right creatures. How silly would it be if we had a set of dwarfs or goblins come and dance in stead? Oh, wouldn't that be quite the mixup!"
As they get directions sorted out and get ready to head off on the next part of their grand adventure, Rowan smiles at Barria and shakes his head.
"Mmm, yes, Zephyr." Rowan says. "I think it's a kind of wind. I'm not sure though. But when I knocked, the stone kind of knocked back and said something like 'little zephyr' and leave it be."
Rowan shrugs but then adds. "They also said that they remembered me. Well they actually said the stone remembers you but I assumed they meant me, but I guess it could have been anyone. You maybe? Have you been here before? I've never met them before."
Then he laughs. "I am getting hungry. Ale and bread sounds good."