Storm King's Thunder

"Didn't mean to offend Elf. Mr. Dangerfield said Flint was the leader true, but he also said you were the strategist. Marav was the scout and Crownsguard was the muscle. A good party needs all of these, according to him."

Matrix glares up at Don, you all get your first clear look at his face.... it's pretty normal. He appears to be in his mid to late twenties, it looks like he hasn't shaved in several days, and other then the scar running from his hairline through his right eye and ending just below his cheekbone he looks mildly above average. Average when you ignore his glowing apparently mechanical right eye that is. "You're one to talk the Don, you talked us into the heart of that bandit camp, and talked your way into that fight when we got there. I got us out of that mess. The other time doesn't count you got me drunk."

"We remember that camp very differently." He smirks a bit, "we did leave a bit of a mess though didn't we. Got that rich widow's ring back though didn't we? And get you drunk? I am not sure I could pry the alcohol out of your hands."

".....that's fair"

Ink grabs Marav's satchel and drops it into the bag of holding, "It'll go here for now pending how it should be distributed. I agree with Flint that it should go to his next of kin, which, for lack of actual kin, seems to be the Emerald Enclave itself."

"You," Ink says as he points at Matrix, "do not have sufficient standing to call me by my race. I accept it when Flint or Rip do it, but you are neither."

Ink stands. 

"And regarding this white dragon, it does not deserve to be hunted down. Marav knew what he was doing when he went and sought it out - and that's what's key - Marav sought it out. He understood the possible consequences in doing so. If you truly wish to respect his love of the Emerald Enclave then you have to accept the fact that his death, although depressing and disheartening, is a NATURAL result of Marav intruding in the white dragon's space. If the party insists on hunting the creature down, I will support the decision, but I don't agree with it."

"Flint - you said we should go to Moradin's temple to see about the weapons - let's go."

Ink turns around and walks out to wait outside. Any calls fall on deaf ears. 

"He acts like I got paid to be your friend... I didn't. I'm here to keep you alive and get a share in any loot found as to my agreement with Mr. Dangerfield." Matrix is not bothered by Inks outburst. It seems Don's statement about him and fights was fairly accurate.

Don sighs and follows Ink. "He's right, lets get going." He casually flips Patches a couple gold to cover the drinks for everyone. "See you soon my friend."

// Alright Flint, I think you’re lead on this. What you got? //

Arriving at the temple of Moradin, Flint asks to speak with the High Hammer in private where he presents the weapons and briefly recounts the curse. "What I ask is ta  use th' altar fer  a banishment ritual, an if her willin' ah'd like ye  and another ta join me at the altar so  we can knock it out in one go. I figure three acolytes. Crownsguard  here will stand as witness and Ink as petitioner. Do ye  agree?"

Crownsguard will Bless the three of them!

Ink responds, "Does that mean you want me to take out the war hammer? I'm not too familiar with religious rituals - you'll have to walk me through it. Thank you for your patience." 

"The acolytes will collect th' weapons from ye  durin' the ceremony. One acolyte each for th' hammer, rapier, an paired swords. Ye can leave them in yer bag until then. Ah'll  point out yer position when we get there."

Ink whispers to Flint, "I was kind of hoping you had forgotten about the rapier... At least until I had studied it. I was hoping to learn from it more about its maker."

Then, after standing back up, and in a normal tone of voice, "Sounds good. I'll follow your lead."

The priest of Moradin at this temple greets Flint warmly, as a good friend, but balks at the mention of a curse. 

“Just what kind of curse are we talking about?” asks the holy dwarf, his accent a thick northern one. “I am not well versed in removing spirits and ancient curses from physical relics...I usually tend to Moradin’s faithful, offering blessings and curing ailments as they come. But I’d he happy to give you what help I can, if you tell me what you know about the curse.”

"What ah know is th' weapons have a mind o' thar own. Th' hammer never spoke ta  me, but ah  felt that it had a plan, an that th' livin' weren't part o' it. The steel itself is screamin' fer  release an ah feel bound ta see ta that. Th' world an' the flock need rid o' this evil an it comes ta  dwarves like ye  an me ta do it. What ah'd need is fer ye  ta cast a banishment as ah do on one o' th' weapons durin the ritual. What say ye?"

Persuasion: 5

Inspiration: 19

Ink HELPS Flint, providing his own story of how the weapons created unreasonable anger and that destroying them could not only help weaken the necromancer that created them, but perhaps even lessen Orcus's influence on the world adding that even if it's a drop in the water, there will still be ripples.

Don steps up, "Sir, these fine companions are on a truly important quest. They need every bit of help they can possibly get."

Persuasion: 14

Crownsguard nods his new dwarven face fervently in support.

The dwarves priest nods. “Orcus, you say? Very well, I think we will be able to find the ritual. We will drive out the demonic influence, no doubt. Come back this time tomorrow, and bring an offering to Moradin—I think 300 gold pieces should suffice, since you are well favored by our All-Father,” says the priest to Flint.

"Aye, and thank ye. Will there be a third wit'us or just you an me?"