Sellsword

Agreed. They had already cut Gern loose when I was negotiating his freedom. is the shield just a shield?

All part of a team effort! If nothing else, the potential dissension caused in Bertrand's ranks is worth the 10 gold I lost. Plus it's a favorable outcome for Gern, we earn some reputation with Karg (even if we weren't directly responsible for Gern's release). It's a net win for us all. My pride can take a little beating.

While Kord returns to the group to share his findings, Jack creeps along the northern corridor to investigate. He warily approaches what does indeed turn out to be a corpse--lying on the ground, prone, is what appears to be the remains of one of Randal Morn's Freedom Riders. The man is wearing a suit of chain mail, and a longsword lies on the ground not far from his hand. Though he is lying face down, you see the ends of several long darts which apparently struck him in the chest. Looking to the room ahead, you can see that it has been thoroughly torn apart. Chests and coffers lie broken open among heaps of rotten and torn clothes, and it is doubtful that anything of value survived whatever onslaught caused such destruction. From the corner of your eye, you catch a glint of something shiny on the ground near an archway on the southern wall of the room. Your first thought is that it might be a plate or piece of armor.

That’s a twist I didn’t expect! I suppose that’s why they’re called “bastards”. Nevertheless, I consider it a victory.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you," Dougal replies. "I had thoughts leave the coin with the innkeeper, for payment to be released once Gern makes his way to the Strumpet." Taking a moment, he looks to the priest of Thor, nodding in deference. "But I see there's no need for that. I've heard nothing but good things about your patron Thor, sir." Dougal counts out 11 gold coins, handing 10 to Bertrand and the last to the priest. "For the temple, with my thanks. If you would instruct Gern to visit the blacksmith when you next see him, I'll consider our business concluded. Ugritte!" he calls out to the barmaid, "please see that the needs of my friends are attended to for the evening. A round of drinks are in order." Excusing himself, Dougal gives his regard to the Brigands before excusing himself. Just before leaving, he turns one last time speak with Isenwyn. "If there is ever any way I can be of service, my lady, I am at your disposal." He bows once more, slightly, and then returns to his comrades. When he arrives at their table, he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. His legs shake nervously. "I have secured the release of Gern. Anyone have a drink?? I'm parched."

Dougal finds himself speaking the name "Isenwyn" to himself longingly, savoring the sensation, but only momentarily before being broken from his reverie by Bertrand's question. He meets Isenwyn's eyes briefly, but turns away quickly, his cheeks beginning to redden. "Strong mead tonight," he says, deflecting. "Yes, of course. Your time training the young lad is certainly to be taken into consideration." Dougal holds up a hand, using his fingers to aid with calculations in his head. "What would you say to 10 gold as your finder's fee? With that, you should be able to hire a couple of strong lads to fill the void." OOC: Here's my logic. We were offered 20 gold--an armed party of 7--to escort a caravan on a multi-day endeavor. While not as dangerous as the type of work Bertrand does, I would think he could easily find a couple of bodies to replace Gern for that much gold. Based on that, I'm hopeful that the offer isn't insultingly low, nor quite so high as to seem desperate. If my logic is way off, I suppose Bertrand is about to let me know...

Trying to make it so that if anyone gets killed, it's just me! 😉

"Worry not, Bolo. Discretion shall be the better part of valor, in this case." Nevertheless, Dougal gulps audibly and takes a long pull of his mug before heading over to Bertrand. Dougal bows slightly to Bertrand as he approaches, an awkward gesture to be sure, but one of deference deserved of such a proven warrior. He gives a respectful nod to each of the other companions, his eyes lingering on the elf, to whom Dougal winks coquettishly. "Good evening, I'll not trouble you long. Though we've encountered one another before, I regret that I was uh...indisposed...at the time and unable to make a proper introduction. I am Black Dougal." "You are clearly a man of business so I'll cut to the chase. I'm in search of the dwarf Gern. I've heard from various sources that he might be in your employ, and if that is indeed the case, I'm looking to bid for his services. I understand that good help is hard to find, but I'm hopeful we might be able to come to some arrangement." OOC: I figured the drinks would be cheaper than 2 gold, but I'll not withdraw the offer now. Bolo can keep the two gold coins...and the drink flowing to Bertrand!

I would assume XP is based on the amount of gold the group acquires, divided by the number of players. What we do with that gold (pay off Tamson, hoard some in a group account) shouldn't affect the XP we gain. That's just my $0.02 as a DM, I'll go along with whatever the final ruling is.

Dougal casts a glance at Bertrand and his Brigands before casually sauntering up to the bar. "Good evening, Bolo! We have returned from another successful foray into the Barrowmoors." Dougal slides over the typical fare for the evening's lodgings and food, adding four gold coins to it. "And a small token of appreciation for your partnership. Heard any news that might be of interest?" Dougal scans the Strumpet for the barmaids, his eyebrows raising when he catches sight of the tall blonde. "Between you and me, Bolo, I'd be awfully interested to hear what Bertrand might be up to." Withdrawing another couple of gold coins, he slides them across the bar. "Please have the lovely lady send a round of drinks to Bertrand and his crew on me. And if she happens to overhear anything that I might find interesting, let her know that that I'd be happy to compensate her for her efforts." Once the drinks are delivered, Dougal will catch Bertrand's eyes and give him a nod, raising a mug of his own before walking over to introduce himself. ** OOC: 2sp for Bertrand's drinks

The glowing marble glides smoothly down the northern corridor, towards the rather foreboding leg and boot that you assume might be attached to a corpse. The cavern floor, while not perfectly level, is remarkably well made, and no resistance is encountered. The small, glowing globe clacks gently against the far wall before rolling back slightly, finally coming to rest not far from the leg. Nothing stirs at the sound or the presence of light. However, one more detail can be made out in the illumination--there is also what appears to be a sword sheath, perhaps belted to a hip. Only the last third is visible in the light. Meanwhile, Kordannaghlan scouts the southern corridor, checking carefully for anything that might signal a trap. The floor and walls are well-made and reveal nothing that would indicate danger, so he continues carefully until he reaches the corner. The faintest blue light can be seen as he approaches the corner, presumably coming from something beyond the turn. Crouching carefully, the gnome peeks around the corner. Beyond the corner, the hall opens into a vast chamber that is 100 feet long and 50 feet wide. In the center of the room lies an ornate coffin with brass trim. The lid has been tossed to the floor and lies broken some distance away. As soon as Kord's eyes adjust to the light, he sees a remarkable sight: a figure hovers over the coffin. The form, a human clad in shimmering robes and suspended above the casket, makes no movement. Its head and shoulders are slumped forward, almost as if it appears to be sleeping. Though it wears a helm, gray hair hangs from beneath, and what skin is revealed seems old and leathery. A faint blue light radiates from the coffin. Overhead, globes of soft white radiance shine down, giving the center of the room an eerie appearance. As for the rest of you--the whole time you have been in the tomb, you've had the feeling that you were being watched, reinforced by the occasional interjection from who you can only assume to be Shraevyn. Whether it was indeed Shraevyn or just lingering magic he had placed upon the tomb to taunt and test would-be graverobbers, you can't be sure, but it did not seem to be overtly malevolent. Standing in this part of the tomb, however, you notice a change. The sensation of being watched still remains, but the feeling of it being an almost fatherly arbiter has been replaced by something colder, more feminine, and certainly more baleful.

Is Gern with the Brigands? That will affect my approach. Also, updated the treasure thread. Splitting up the proceeds (including the gold we found on the scorpion victim) each PC will receive 34 gold, 7 silver. Tamson gets his share as usual, and there's an additional 34 gold, 7 silver for the group fund. Wasn't sure if we were selling the mundane goods we found, I can add that in if we do.

Feeling confident that no immediate threat lies in wait, Valandil waves the group forward. With the light of Mandons' lanterns, both corridors appear at first glance to be equally nondescript. Both corridors terminate in a wall at the very extent of the light provided by the lantern, and based on the shadows you can see that each corridor has a turn to the east. If it were not for one small detail, it would be almost impossible to make any kind of educated decision. That detail, however, only reveals itself after Mandons peers very carefully down the corridor to the north. What appears to be a boot is visible, still attached to a leg. The body to which the leg belongs is prone, the majority of it being hidden by shadow and obscured where the corridor turns east.

Thought about suggesting we stop and pick up the other two amphorae on the way (left in one of the barrows we looted earlier), but figured it's better to quit while we're ahead.

Having puzzled out the nature of the obstacle, if not the correct resolution, Amarandé begins ordering the group about to place the golden vessels in specific locations around the 8-pointed symbol in the center of the chamber. Some of the vessels require creativity to maneuver without coming to physical harm or other mishaps, but you carefully arrange them per his instructions. Amarandé holds the last vessel until all others are in place before stooping to carefully insert it. At the center of the symbol, a golden cylinder of arcane energy manifests, connecting the floor and the ceiling. Within the cylinder you witness a swirl of elemental energies--a whirlwind of sand pummels the arcane barrier while a snake of fire wreathes a wisp of steam. The elements possess human-like characteristics, tiny clawed arms angry faces can be seen within the chaos. Fortunately, the barrier restrains the elemental-kin--surely this is a clue what may have been released had the puzzle been solved incorrectly. Instead, however, the golden cylinder recedes into the floor, taking the elemental-kin with it. At the same time, the same aureate radiance begins to frame the door across the chamber. The metal doors creak and groan as they swing inward, hinges shrieking through the complex as the heavy doors finally slam against the wall with a hollow *thud*. A now-familiar voice ponders your actions, coming seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once. "One would hope that noise alone is not sufficient to wake the dead." The voice fades, and whether triggered magically or if you are indeed being watched by Shraevyn's ghost, no further comments are given. Beyond the doors is a 30-foot corridor ending in a T-intersection. At the far end is an alcove. The corridor stretches north and south into the darkness, but your attention is drawn to the marble statue before you. The sculpture is of a young woman wearing leather armor and wielding a pair of short swords. She is smiling gleefully, and her boyish demeanor seems to illuminate the shadows of the hallway. Around her neck is a large metal disk suspended by a silver chain. Both Theoath and Amarandé, as well as perhaps others in the group, recognize it as a symbol of Tymora, the Goddess of Luck. Engraved on the disk are the following words: Turn right or left, front or back, There's no saving you from your own stare. Whether gold be piled by bar or by sack, There's seldom enough change to spare. The ambient crimson light that has been prevalent your descent into the tomb so far ends here--corridors lead to the north and to the south, each shrouded in darkness. OOC: Posting an updated map of the complex for your benefit, see below. The alcove is the area marked '5' on the sketch. There is nothing to distinguish either pathway at the moment, both are more or less 10' wide corridors that lead into the darkness.