With a mighty swing, Skameros sends the last statue flying in pieces across the cavern.

There is a momentary pause before the dust cloud manifests itself out of all the broken pieces and lunges ineffectually against Skameros who feels the same malevolence as before in the Rockblight.  Then it leaves, seeping into the earth of the cavern floor. 

Orubis nods. “This is a problem. We need to head back and reconsider. We just don’t have the means to deal with this.” 

Rodolfo nods, "I agree. Lets sift through the remains though and see what they were looking at in the first place and if they had anything worthwhile on them."

Investigation check: 8

Whatever clothing, gear and equipment these deceased individuals had have either been scavenged, which is unlikely given the petrified drow surrounding them, or the individuals died so long ago that everything but the bones have turned to rust and dust.

At most, Rodolfo's investigation has determined that Ogremoch's Bane has been around these parts for a long long time.

Quote from nschrock >>

Orubis nods. “This is a problem. We need to head back and reconsider. We just don’t have the means to deal with this.” 

"We are still almost at full strength. Maybe look around for another hour or two or three, before heading back. Whatever made those statues might have left something more useful near here."

Orubis, Rodolfo and even Skameros feel the weight of their recent discovery and determine this is information that is vital and needs to be passed on to the gnomish leadership right away, regardless of how fresh Beegred feels.  Returning to Inner Blingdenstone, the gnomes have stopped drilling and there is an intensity as they all gossip discretely in small scattered groups.

Once you find Senni, she looks to be deep in thought, but at the sight of your party she indicates she has news, "A dwarf scout has just arrived seeking refuge.  The news he brings is not good.  The known routes to the surface are all being sealed and secured.  Even the Zhentarim are being pressured to close their secret routes.  Our upcoming battle has now become a matter of life and death, not just the reclamation of our ancestral home.  If we fail, the survivors will have no where to go."

At which point some of you may feel shamed to have to add to the bad news, yet you still inform her that Ogremoch's Bane is not restricted to the Rockblight.  Her only reply is, "This upcoming battle is not yours, but if you won't help by keeping Ogremoch's Bane occupied during the assault, then we will have to dismiss the elementals and fight those oozes hand to hand with Clan Goldwhisker while our young throw themselves at The Pudding King."

Senni is obviously in no mood to discuss further, so you head back to The Foaming Mug where you find quite a gathering of the more influential gnomes interrogating a haggard and almost crazed looking dwarf.

in the crowded common room of the Foaming Mug, Sitting at a table surrounded by deep gnomes, sits a particularly exhausted looking, thin and gaunt dwarf. He has dark hair and beard, greying some with age, and a ruddy complexion.   His green eyes are haunted , as he looks blankly at his mug of ale.  He’s clad in black studded leather armor and a dark grey woolen cloak, both are dirty and with patches of mud and dried blood.   Against his chair he has a shield, battered and dirty, which has a raised anvil and hammer on it’s face (holy symbol of Moradin, for those who recognize) A finely made rapier is at his hip. Nearby rests a dirty, overstuffed leather pack with rope and a crossbow strapped on top.    He seems a little annoyed with the questions from the gnomes.  In a hoarse voice he’s explaining:

“I be tellin ye, the way is shut.  We tried the passages I be knowin… me brothers in arms--  strong fighters all, mind ye.. all fell.   The horrors I be seein…. The horrors.  Ye see I’m not a young dwarf.  I seen a lot in me years .  But notin like this.. Moradin saw fit to let me live.  Im not fer certain I’m the lucky one... “

"Oh, you are the bundle of joy, aren't you. Do you have a name? Mine is Beegred... Bee-gred... No cracks about big red or anything like that.

"There is a gnome here named Nomi. Maybe I should call you Deewarfee, to keep things simple... You know, because you are a dwarf, in case you didn't figure out why I suggested that."

The halfling settles back, pleased by his cleverness and wit.
(The former soldier is oblivious when thinking that he is the smartest being in the room, although that wizard Rodolfo has his moments.)

Rodolfo just processes the information he heard. He nods to the dwarf and sits down next to Beegred.

“Eh? Who’s talkin? - Oh someone other then a gnome about! -  sorry, I’ve been havin a rough spell.  And these guys be askin the same things over n’ over”. (here the dwarf actually gives a thin smile at the newcomers) .  “Me names Thurnir,  Thurnir Blackstone, Of Guantylgrym, leader n  sole survivor o‘ the Tunnelscouts O King Bruenor.  We was on a scoutin mission fer me king when things went bad.  I means the underdark ain’t never been no picnic wit tea and crumpets, but things be gettin worser and worser, as me king feared…. Anyhow,  as I were saying to these gnomes-  I can’t gets back to me city- the ways are all shut-  and there’s demons and worse everywhere.  I barely made it here, and weren’t  certain the gnomes would still be hangin on, t be honest!   (Here he pauses and says, carefully) “well nice t meet ye Beegred.  I met yer kinfolk afore (you can assume he meant halflings in general). What ye and yer friends doin down here with these ‘uns”? 

All seven and half feet of large furry bugbear follows his party over and starts waving his arms about and shooing the gnomes away from the dwarf before sitting on the floor with a thud.

“Err,.. thanks.   You with Beegred here too?  . ”  Thurnir says. 

Rodolfo says, "He is, yes. It's a long story. We've been down here for a long time, barely surviving. Do you know anything about whirling dust that possesses dark elves and earth elementals? We have a problem without a solution. Also, this whole place is on the brink of a war of survival with oozes. Very nasty stuff. If you set your expectations to never see your city again then you won't be disappointed."

“Err.  Dust, eh?  Don’t know nothin about that. But oozes I’ve seen aplenty.  There always was a few about ya know, but now they’re all over- and they’re… smarter… or something- leastwise out there they are”  he shudders a bit at a memory. 

  “Well.…   These folks did right by me fer bringing me in, half dead, and patchin me up.  I owes ‘em.  And Moradin ain’t done wit me yet, I reckon.  So once I get meself cleaned up I’m willin t help ye with this dust, and the oozes.  Mayhap we can figure a way out o this mess., or I kin make Moradin proud tryin. “ 

"Yeah, they are all with me. I'm the brains of this party." (Doesn't notice the three of them, including Skameros, shaking their heads no behind the halfling at this comment.)

"Glad to meet you Thumb-er... err, Thunir of Guano Grim. We each had our reasons to be down here, mostly against our will. Kind of thrown together. That's why we are working as a group, looking for a way out. We've had to do some fighting, but from what you said, sounds like more fighting for a way out."

The dwarf winces a bit at the pronunciation of his home, but doesn’t say anything about it.  

Thurnir  smiles  and says “Well I be willin to join ye if I can be o help.   I knows the underdark some and I knows which end o me rapier is the pointy one.

I can help pay back these gnomes fer their hospitality by helpin wit their problems and maybe even gets us back towards the surface someday or die tryin.  But I be needin a good nights rest afore I’m ready fer facin ghostly dust and oozes.”  

Orubis joins in the conversation. “Orubis. Pleasure to meet you. Although, I’m not really looking for the surface. I’m just looking to save Blingdenstone.” Orubis is a tiny gnome of the underdark, with heavy armor and a someone rodent-like appearance to his face. 

“Fer sure, nice meetin ye Orubis.  Well if I ken help yer kinfolk keep this place, I’ll do me best.  We be needin places like this down here to keep the beasties out.  And this ale ain’t bad, neither”. He downs his flagon, and looks around at the room and the group.  “I’ve gots some hope back.  Mayhap it’s the ale, and it’ll be gone in the mornin, but I be thinking yer good crew.”  

“Thurnir, if you’re offering help, we could use it. The folks that live here here don’t have much training or skill. We need every sword arm.” Orubis wrings his hands in pleading

“Aye, I’ll join ye.  I’ll  be good t go in the morning. Or my mornin, as it were- I gots no idea what time it is here.  I gots to clean meself up some.  Ya be needin anythin in town afore we go?” Thurnir says.