Of cities and Stone [Dwarven plot]

[.:[Crim]:.]

Tronjheim; Helm of giants, the greatest city of dwarfdom, the mile high city of the king. Indomitis gazed upon the city with wonder as his detachment of Paladins made their way through the gate at one of the walls of Farthen Dûr. Indomitis sucked in his breath audibly, Even after seeing it numerous times it still put him in awe of the might of his race. Marble flowed from the ground as if of its own accord, seeming to bend and twist and arch into many great and terrifying shapes. Statues of Naga, sharks, Fanghur and even wilder creatures adorned its outer wall. All of these statues were cast in the gems of the earth. Diamond and Sapphire were present in abundance while emeralds and onyx were few and far between.
The group of paladins marched in perfect step, leather boots making almost no noise against the polished marble upon which they strode. Their gear was that of the finest warriors in the land. Dark grey steel chain and plate adorned their chest, Leggings of mail backed leather shone brightly in the dim light of the city mountain. Each of this troop wore battle skirts of the purest white mail, The exception was Indomitis with his black mail.

Calling the company to a halt Indomitis turned and looked at his forces, they were strong. they were noble and they were paladins of his order, Hammer of Guntera. he studied their faces and saw friends there. he also saw members who would stop at nothing to accomplish what he told them. reaching into a fold of his tunic he withdrew a paper rolled around a weed he had grown fond of. instead of carrying a pipe which took up space he carried rolls of paper and then stuffed it inside. The result was something his troop had taken to calling cigarettes.

After a flash from his palm and a contended sigh smoke quickly permeated the space around his noble face as he once more ordered the company forwards towards the waiting city. The gloom from the mountain was almost touchable and the dim light was broke only the glory of Tronjheim which stood like a candle in the dark. Indomitis marched with intent towards its massive gates and when he reached them stared in awe. Five meters thick of marble supported by the mechanics of the dwarves rendered this gate all but unbreachable. He knew from his lessons that thousands if not more wards lay on these ancient stone walls.

The group of paladins marched intently down the main hallway of Tronjheim and soon a crowd gathered. As if on command the middle of their rank hoisted the paladin banner and shouted in dwarfish "The might of Guntera!" cheers erupted from above and below as the crowds roared their enthusiasm. Indomitis allowed himself a brief smile and took a drag on his smoke. When the group reached the main hall they came to an abrupt stop and all looked to the heavens. There in the city of the City of Guntera lay the Star Rose. The ruby red sapphire was carved intricately like a blooming rose. the ring of lamps that surrounded it threw the jewel into focus and made it the crown of the great city. Indomitis waved his hand and his company kneeled, paying homage to the great city and the might of their race.

Standing and noticing that they once again had a crowd Indomitis marched them double time to the military district. It took another twenty minutes of marching before they reached the outside yet walled section of the city and waited for passage.

"Gatekeeper!" Indomitis cried out "I am the bastion of Guntera! My men and I were told to bunk in the Naga Barracks across from that of Fanghur." his voice carried up to the sentry where he stood on the wall. Seeing movement Indomitis raised a hand and his troops stood at perfect attention. the gates slowly opened inward and he had them march in perfect harmony through the gates.

The plaza of the military section was done in black granite it was paved like cobblestones throughout the area and a lone marble fountain stood at the center. Long and low barracks made of Rough cut quartz stood in rows upon rows behind it. Narrow walk ways separated them and it was through these that Indomitis and his company traveled. Finally reaching the barracks they were assigned Indomitis laid his men to ease and declared "remember lads, I get front bunk" they all laughed at the joke.

In the training schools where Paladins study, far to the east. It is almost a law that the commanding paladin gets the front bunk as it was the one that was always in worse condition. Indomitis smiled as he laid his pack onto the bed and saw that it was no different here. the short wooden bed was in the worst condition and the threadbare blanket looked shorter than the others. reaching for another cigarette Indomitis squared away his station and then set to work shining and oiling his arms and armor.

It was a tedious task and yet the results were plainly evident. Reaching for his shield Indomitis spoke softly in the ancient language and poured a decent amount of strength into the gem that adorned it. The shield was special to him, yet alone legendary to all of Dwarfdom. For this shield was the Bulwark of Guntera. Believed to have been forged by the god himself the metal was not metal, it was fused stone set in the most advanced shield housing that the Dwarven kingdom could ever make. the strength of this shield was almost immeasurable. then also it was awarded in the ancient language that all who strike at it would fail. Many times a rogue bandit or some such miscreant had struck at it with their axe or hammer only to find it misdirected and their momentum lost. This made it easy for Indomitis to strike them down.

After making sure his shield had not been damaged in the long trek to Tronjheim he reached for his sword and inspected the edge. It was razor sharp. the blade long for Dwarven make and balanced for his hand alone. the sword had seen many battles and yet shone as if just out of the forge. Indomitis dragged strongly on his smoke then half jumped out of the low bed. his commanding voice reaching the men

"I am off to see the king, you are not to leave this barracks until I return unless otherwise stated by a military official, We may be here a while, Nuruono, you are in charge until I return, make sure this place is clean... I'll be checking" With that Indomitis reached for the door handle and stepped out into the walkways. He quickly set off at a brisk jog towards Tronjheim. the distance melted before Indomitis' boots and soon he stood once again in the main hall of Tronjheim. Insider Mithraism shone brightly down at him as he made his way to the twin descending stairs. Just outside of the Dwarven throne room he stopped as he encountered a dwarf. he nodded slightly then stopped as if the dwarf might have reason to go in first. Deciding that he was just some dwarf Indomitis humbly strode into the throne room when beckoned by the attending gaurd.

The king of all Dwarven kind sat upon his grey black chair and twirled his thoughts around him. His kingdom was in trouble, Their military leader was missing. The General of the Entire dwarven army was no where to be found.Such a realization that his kingdom was utterly in the hands of less experienced dwarves chilled the mighty king. He tried to think of ways he could send his forces to retrieve the General, but alas no thoughts came to him readily.

Withdrawing a long an ornate pipe the king lit it with a small tinderbox, Taking several puffs blue grey smoke soon clouded the air around the throne, The smoke swirled in many great patterns and the king was amused that he could often think clearer when looking at the sight.

That was a week ago, the king thought in reflection and now surely it was time for the paladins to come and pay visit to him. The king sat a little straighter as the Bastion strode calmly into the throne room.

Indomitis crossed the dark and powerful chamber towards the king, counting the number of Hirna along the walls. he stopped short of the king and knelt, his head bowed.


"Aye king, Blessed of Guntera. What is it that I or my order can do for you?"

"Well you see...." started the king, then as if thinking better of it "wait, Gaurd Bring me Lorren!"

Then Indomitis looked back towards the door and saw the beardless dwarf enter the room, he as well strolled through the Hirna and knelt before the king.

"I have summoned you two for a matter of grave importance. One of the few Generals of my army has gone missing in the human lands. We dwarves have remained neutral in the outside world for to long. I wish to correct this and usher in a new age for all of Dwarfdom. Indomitis, I task you to find this General. You have my express permission to do as you see fit to make this happen, just know that the eyes of all dwarves are upon you. You have never failed me before, i expect nothing less now. Oh and when you find him, I wish for you to enter into parley with the Riders. I would much like to meet with one of their leaders and discuss a great many things with them." The king sat as if slightly troubled for several more minutes.

Indomitis began to sweat along the nape of his neck, for it was slightly warm in here. Glancing sideways he noticed the beardless dwarf and tried to discern what was special about this one

"Lorren!" the king suddenly boomed. "I task you and whatever men you see fit to Guard this man and his company with your lives. You are to Both" he looked at Indomitis "support one another as if they are your brother, this is the first envoy i have sent in two hundred years, make sure it counts."

With a wave of his hand the Dwarven king bid them out of his throne room and Indomitis stood to leave, and turned to the beardless dwarf jutting out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, I am called Indom to my friends. Shall we discuss our tasking here or at the military district"

[/color]

[~Ninthroe~]

"Get to lifting, you drooling, corroded, hammer-breakimg rockrunts!" Lorren yelled as he strided across the training grounds, his voice loud but even. He was one for a calm demeanor. and even though his insults were the most biting and most volatile, his voice never rising to an angry pitch. That was his father's way, not his own. He knew his words would give the bite they needed to motivate his dwarves without the added anger. Besides, until his troops actually disapponted him, he had no reason to be angry.

His troops, if they could even be called that, consisted of a dozen dwarves. Only a dozen, the smallest regiment that he knew of. But he was fine with that. He knew the numbers meant nothing, and the quality of his men was what he liked to call a rough emerald: gruff on the outside, but worth far much more when you get to their core. That's what he always looked for in his men: the core.

His squadron had renown in Tronjheim, and were known as the Rough Hammers. A name that they had not chosen for themselves, but had bestowed upon them by the cries of the people. Not many cries, mind. But their one famous story that gave them their glory was all they needed to get the respect they deserved. No longer were they called the Beardless ones, though it was only Lorren that was so.

Lorren himself was an extremely eccentric dwarf, by all physical and mental applications. He had sought to be a scholar, or a mechanic. But here he was, a renowned commander beyond all expectations. And he wasn't built like most dwarves. Rather than stocky in nature, he was more lithe and nimble. His hair was more fine than rough, and he lacked a beard. Not entirely uncommon, but not common enough to avoid the subtle insults amongst the main rabble. Whisperings of secretly having a human father, though they all knew that was nigh impossible. They all knew who his father was, and he was blessed with the same skills to prove it.

He and his Rough Hammers were all living proof that the social caste system could be broken. Lorren had personally chosen the lowest of the low in the social caste system, refusing to accept the pompous dwarves of the higher clans though he himself was one of the most prestiged, and the last of his father's line. He worked the arses off his men to get them where they are.

Lorren was now currently watching his men work under their monthly stress of carrying and rolling boulders. It built character, and it made wielding an axe or a hammer seem like you were carrying stepping stones. It was also a hell lot of fun to watch. And he often offered rewards to his men, giving exemptions from this particular exercise when he felt it was well-earned. But his thoughts were suddenly cut off as he heard feet shuffling and a tap of a rolled-up paper on his shoulder. He nodded his acknowledgement and took the oaper, reading it over. He scowled.

"Alright, ladies, your time is up," He announced after watching them all labor under their boulders. His statement was immediately followed with the sounds of relief and the booming thuds of boulders being dropped abruptly on the hard-packed earth. He smirked and rolled the paper back up. "Today was your lucky day! It seems the King has want of me. Pick up your weapons, and let's move out!" He re-shouldered his shield and sword and walked off the training grounds, expecting his troop to rush to follow. That was just his way, and the Rough Hammers understood it well. His eagerness to answer call usually exceeded his desire to hold rank and file.

That being said, he marched his men up to the gates. "Gatekeeper!" Lorren called up. There was no reason to state his name, his appearance was recognizeable even from a distance. He waved his paper over his head with an obvious air of impatience, and tapped his foot as the gates finally opened. He nodded back to his men and marched forward, all of them clad in their dark brown leather armor with their chainmail in their bunks, with the exception of Lorren who always wore his black leather and onyx plates with his shield bearing the clan symbol of two hammers crossed over a mountain engraved upon it and his black sword bearing the same engraving.

He led them straight to their barracks, pausing outside only to look across at the Naga Barracks and see some peculiar dwarves marching in. That wasn't the usual regiment that resided there.. Strange. Shrugging, he waited outside as his men jogged into the barracks, nodding to them each as they shouted their "Hoorah!" Before entering. It was just one of the many quirks that came with being a Rough Hammer, and it was always fun teaching a new member. Not that they'd had one in decades.

He kicked the last one as he ducked to enter the barracks, sending him tumbling across the marble floor much to the laughter of everyone including Lorren except for the poor sop who was the victim. "Work on your double-time, you sewer rat!" He said, laughing as he turned towards the direction that he was called to go. Ahh, the King.. What could he possibly want from Commander Mountainhammer?

He strided confidently towards Tronjheim, the distance seeming all too far for him even with every passing step. He finally arrived at the door to the throne room and encountered another dwarf marching at the same pace as he was. He was halted abruptly by the guards at the door. That could only mean that the King was either busy with another at the moment or simply not ready to see him. Too busy to see a Commander, at least. Especially him. He gave them both a dark scowl. If he were the General or the Bastion, they'd probably let him in now for sure. He raised his scroll of summoning and waved it in their faces, raising an eyebrow at the guards as to question them to let him through. They nodded and he pushed by to open the door, not even bothering to let them open the door for him. He did things himself.

He strided with a calm demeanor towards the throne and kneeled before the King and another dwarf who was there, probably a nobleman of some importance. He inwardly groaned. This was probably another noble demanding to know why he or one of his Rough Hammers insulted his son or slept with his daughter. He was going to kill Boro.. That bastard was probably the one to put him through this again.

His ears perked up as the name Indomitis was discerned. He glanced just slightly over to the other dwarf, as the signs of who he was became visible by the stories that were told of the new Bastion. The eyes were a clear distinction of him. So, he was here to witness a Bastion's first expedition? Great.. Seemed useless.

Then he lifted his head up as his first name was boomed in the hall, and he listened intently and with silence. But on his insides, he was running circles around on the walls. He got to see the outside world! Of all the dwarves that could be chosen for this, it was him! Even if it was to watch over a bloody special paladin, his excitement was barely contained.

"Yes, your majesty," he replied, standing erect and turning to face his charge. He raised his eyebrows as he was greeted with a hand jutted out towards him. Odd, most important people didn't bother with an unusual charcter such as himself. Nor did he in return. But this was an exception. He shook Indomitus' hand firmly.

"Commander Mountainhammer, but my Rough Hammers call me Lorr. I think it would be best to discuss the details in the military district," he replied evenly, his nerves still in a minor shock from the respect shown already within the first few moments of meeting. He was so used to having to earn his stripes in the mot gruelling ways.

[Mali]

Mali had never been so shocked at the hospitality that some people seemed to show her. She considered Niko and Arashi the best of friends and knew that anytime she were to ever meet up with them, that they were nothing but incredibly kind to her. She hadn’t, however expected that she would find hospitality here.

It wasn’t to say that she had expected bad things of the dwarves. She had never heard anything about the dwarves before. Of course, she had heard certain things about their kind but she had never really paid much attention.

What caused her shock was that most people treated her badly. She was a thief after all. She had been caught trying to take something here and they had practically bowed down to her. Confused, she was about to take off without the item she had been trying to steal before someone came up behind her. A big, burly man came up next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his frame and dragging her off toward the center of the city. Having been confused and a bit scared that she was going to get into big trouble, Mali hadn’t really paid much attention to what the man had been saying either.

It wasn’t until they reached the throne room of their king that she truly felt like she might defecate in her pants. She had never felt this way before, then again, she had never been taken to a king before!

However, things weren’t as she had perceived them and everything was fine now. It turns out that the dwarves were thrilled to have met a werecat and wanted to make her comfortable while she was there. They had even provided her with a place to stay and food. She was definitely shocked.

Today, however, she was exploring the area when she heard the King speaking to two individuals. Changing out of her feline form and into her humanoid form, her hood was lowered as she walked into the room. The king nodded in acknowledgement to her as he left the room. Curious, her tail swinging back and forth behind her, she walked over to the two men. What now?

“Hello,” even if they didn’t reply to her, she would continue to follow them as they left the throne room. Something good was going to happen, she could sense it. It was a very small feeling, but she knew that something was about to happen.

As the three of them entered a room she hadn't been in before, her green, feline eyes ran across the items in the room before they settled on the other two dwarves. What were their names?

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[pauliusmaximus]

It was a lonely Evening for Craddock as the tavern was shut due to maintenance, so he spent most of his day sitting in his favorite chair, drinking and thinking, he sat there peering into his tankard with deep though and then knock knock knock, he was startled by the sudden noise and though maybe his mother had forgot her key again but as he opened the door he was greeted by a familiar but unwelcome figure.

It was the Man who gave him his first hit as a young lad he remembers that tattered cloak and frail hands though he seemed taller back then, "It's you" Craddock said with some surprise in his tone. the man replied in a frail yet powerful voice "Yes lad but I am not here for what you think, no problems for you to solve, well of that kind anyway, I have a proposal -" " I'm done with your "proposals" Craddock said rudely cutting the old man off. As Craddock went to slam the door in his face the old man splurted out, "I can make you rich lad". For some reason Craddock heard this and hesitated for a minute, the man caught sight of his hesitation and followed up with, "You have my Garuntee". Not knowing why Craddock looked at the hooded figure considering the offer not even knowing what it was.

"Speak up then" He said. The old man explained that there was an anonymous individual interested in the hammer of Vorthun. As Craddock heard this he was unsure what to think, but in haste replied with "you mean like steal it", "Yes" the man replied. Craddock Rubbed his chin thoughtfully, he knew of the hammer and its value to the kingdom although being born as an outcast, he was not completely familiar with the main city itself, or really even the protection such an artifact would have. Though he suspected it was a lot."Ok I’ll do it, now do you have a map.” the man seemed a little shocked although it's hard to tell with a hood on. "Yes here is map marking a path to the hammer’s resting place as well as a letter containing instruction on stealing it and were the interested party is staying.” As the man took his leave Craddock thought to himself. ‘if I can pull this off I won’t need to bother those nobles' purses anymore, hmm they were wising up anyways.’

As Craddock set off with the map in one hand and a jug of ale in the other he wondered to himself "I hope the penalty isn’t death, eh I could probably bribe my way out of it.” as he was walking the deep dark tunnels to Tronjheim he had a lot of time to think and study his map, and then think some more. He thought about many a things and pondered many more. Until reaching what he found to be a short cut into the central district, as he emerged he was greeted by no guards , he noticed the smell of the city was fresher than he was use to. ‘this was a good start at least.’ He thought to himself

the map pointed to a big section of the city called the central chamber, he assumed that this was where the hammer was kept. He turned the map over revealing a inside view of the chambers and a way in through a staircase separate to the one patrolled by guards. He very discreetly made his way over and when the coast was clear made his way in. He was confronted by a rather dusty looking staircase, it was obviously not used to often. This was a rather tall stair case and it was narrow, he grew short of breath rather fast as he made his way up the stairs. When he got to the top he nudged the wall panel open a tad and peered out. He saw a large well kept hall with the hammer only a few hundred meters from his current position! He quietly stepped into the hallway but be for he could even take another step he got a rather subtle tap on the shoulder.

"excuse me sir but you are not welcome here” said a firm voice,’damn it he whispered under his breath.’ The guards made him turn out his pockets, discovering his plot to steal the hammer, they looked at each other and one said, "should we take him to the king?" "no no the king is in a meeting we best take him to the jailer and have him kept there until his fate is decided.” Just before they started to guide him out of the room a sack was put on his head, he assumed it was so he could not reorient himself and try to steal it again if he escaped. Thinking quick he tried to talk his way out but was silenced before he could say anything more. By the time he was given his sight back we was in an open courtyard with a fountain the middle, the floor was carved of marble and the citizens dressed rather well. He looked out of place in his rags being carried to a building on the far side. It was a lot less fancy than the rest and he soon found why, lined up out in front of the building was a row of stockades, all empty. As the guards locked him up, they wasted no time in delivering the news to the jailer. "I’ll stay here and watch him my feet are killing me." one of the guards said to the other who gave a nod and went on his way.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

Roka scowled darkly. Combined with her well-made dwarven armor and the huthivir mounted on her back, she would likely have frightened any onlooker, and for good reason - she was annoyed, at her surroundings more than anything else. She had been wandering around in this godsforsaken hall for hours. Hours! No defining features at all, every column the same. Her head was aching from trying to sort out where she was, where she was going. Her cat's-tail eyebrows were furrowed and she couldn't remember how long they'd been that way. Her usually stoic face was seemingly stuck in her earlier frown. Column after column passed her by as she walked. She tied up her hair as she went - a slightly grayish black that was just long enough to be an inconvenience when loose. Her helmet was in her traveling pack, and she saw no reason to dig it out.

The sameness of everything was beginning to frighten her. She knew nothing about where she was. Nothing at all. That worried her, especially since she had somewhere to be. Tronjheim, and then away on a mission; the King had summoned them, and she was rather looking forward to being on a mission. Wherever they were going, she was sure it would be better than teaching a bunch of knurlhieman how to wield a huthivir properly. She would likely be late, though. Damn this place and fire upon its bones! And those dull huthivir students, too. She wondered whether they were simply stupid or very, very stubborn.

She turned again and again, hoping to find some sign of an exit, or at least a place she recognized. Nothing. She was lost. Absolutely, completely lost, and the more she told herself that the more scared she was. Roka Isidar, Paladin Stormwalker of the Hammer of Guntera, frightened of being lost like a child. So it was, she supposed, although it seemed foolish. But this was the price of always knowing where you were going; sooner or later you were bound to not know, and then you were in trouble.

"Barzul," she said loudly upon turning another corner without finding a way out. Very apt, under the circumstances. Or perhaps it was more than chance. Who knew? She resumed wandering, rather aimlessly. Wait - there! A statue. She went back a bit and examined the effigy, tugging at her opal earring. The statue was made in the likeness of a Fanghur at rest, wings folded, but more importantly, it was marble, a different kind than she had been walking on for Guntera only knew how long. It would be odd, would it not, to randomly place a statue in a hall full of pillars? She felt sure some feature must be nearby that she had overlooked.

She scanned the area, sharp green eyes taking in every detail. It took her some time to notice the discrepancy in the placement of the pillars, but once she saw it it couldn't be any clearer. She went to stand in the center of the gap in the pillars to confirm her suspicion. The statue was a marker - a point to alert travelers to the path out. Or at least, she assumed it was a way out. Certainly there wasn't much else it could be.

She walked along the clear area for a while. She was just beginning to worry that it led to something else when she came to a vast arch. A vaulted chamber lay beyond, with two tunnels exiting it. Success! And perhaps next time she was lost, she would have more faith. And to make things even better, the tunnels were marked. Taking the left (which the signs proclaimed the way to Tronjheim), she muttered a Dwarvish prayer of praise to Guntera. Although she had had a hand in her escape too, of course. And she would still be late. She broke into a run. The earlier, the better, even if she was late.

****

It had taken her an age to get here, and she had sweated through the tunic under her armor, but she had gotten to tunnels she knew eventually. She was finally in Tronjheim, though she suspected it was nighttime by now. Her eyelids were beginning to feel a little heavy, and few people were about, even when she passed through what was usually the busiest district she knew of. She would bet the homes and dining sectors were much more lively, though.

She took a bit of a shortcut under a particularly tricky section and came up in the military district. The black stones seemed to swallow the light of the lanterns, and the fountain was still. There was a slight hum of noise, though, from soldiers drinking and generally being awake. She cast her mind out around her, looking for any sign of Indomitis. He was somewhere in front of her, but that could include several sections of barracks. He was awake, along with several other people. Almost certainly drinking like everybody else who was awake. She smiled a little. She was rather glad she had arrived then, since they would probably have plenty of whatever they were drinking for her to join in.

Indom? Indomitis. She tried to get his attention for a bit longer. Her hair had become much messier on the way here, and she brushed a paricularly annoying strand out of her face. Where are you? I was detained a bit. She looked around again, and then focused her gaze on her hands. The scars there reminded her of so many battles. She opened her left hand and traced the gash across its palm. That had been a good fight, and a difficult one. Urgals - a small group that had been encroaching on a small city near Tarnag. She had yanked her opponent's weapon clean out of his hand, but it had been quite sharp. Sharp enough to leave that scar. The area around her eyes crinkled as she smiled a little, and then she returned her focus to the present. Drinks, eh? I hope I haven't missed anything.

[.:[Crim]:.]

The Central hall echoed with their footsteps as Indomitis and his new found ally Lorren made their way amongst the bustling crowds. The marble white floors shone brightly and provided an excellent click as boots came into contact with it. Indomitis had been talking to Lorren about the strengths of swords over axes or hammers, which were popular among their race. This all lasted them throughout their walk in the grand circular hall, only ending when Indomitis leaned a bit closer to Lorren and said in dwarfish.


“We are being followed, position six on the sundial, eighty yards, black hair.”


Having not carried his sword Indomitis reached for the axe strapped to his battle skirt, yet when he thought better of it his hand slipped away. Indomitis led Lorren down a side chamber and their follower pursued them.


“She isn’t, a dwarf. Be ready for anything” he said in a muted voice as they stepped into a rather dark section of the tunnel. Turning around he was astonished when he came face to face with a young human looking girl. Raven black hair and a tail? Other than that the human girl was clad in a short black dress accompanied with matching leggings and a band through her hair. His eyes flashed dangerously as he wondered what magic would humans use to make them self grow tails. His voice cracked like thunder


“Human child, what right have ye to follow my kommrade and I? state your name, and know that we do not normally allow humans to walk our halls.”


Her response surprised him. A werecat, he had read about them many times in the academy of Guntera, But he never thought he would meet one. Suddenly bowing deeply at the waist he said in a much kinder tone. “I am sorry then Kottr. Forgive my rudness.” He felt and heard Lorren mutter something at his side but paid him no mind. After several minutes of conversation Indomitis offered that the werecat should accompany them on the journey. To which Lorren had some choice words.


The three of them then headed back towards the well lit hallway and proceeded to make their way into the Market district. The markets were full of many odd and wonderful things. It was one of the fancier places in Tronjheim as rain catchers far above made the area foggy. Trees of pink and red adorned square stone gardens and the pink leaves fell with a very calming feeling.


Once the three of them were gone from the market district they passed into the very grandiose district of law. The white tan marble and the imposing buildings echoed with the footsteps of the company and the dignitaries that worked here. Indomitis always loved the fact that Tronjheim and its father mountain Farthen Dur were so large that the city was practically outside. He could stare forever up into the semi dark sky.


His vision however was brought to the great fountain in front of the courts. The statue depicted Guntera holding high the symbol of his religion. Parting company from the two others Indomitis made his way to the fountain and knelt at its great side. A silent prayer later and he turned only to see that the two had accompanied him to the statue. They talked for a moment or two about the statue and Indomitis’ position was explained to the werecat. ‘For a werecat, she doesn’t know it all yet does she’ he remembered thinking to himself.

Lorren caught his attention as they were about to leave the district and pointed to a long and low building with stockades in front of it. There in the third stockade from the right was chained a man. His vibrant orange hair made him easily noticeable against the dark color of the wood. Indomitis conferred with Lorren for several long moments when they decided to free the captive.

“I’m telling you Lorren, we are doing the right thing in the eyes of Guntera. We yet not know his crime, it could be minor and I think a life of discipline would do him well. If you don’t offer him a place with you I can and would draft him to the Order, I rather not however as the academy is a cruel place.”


The slightly short orange haired dwarf looked up at them quizzically when they approached. Indomitis wasted no time talking to the man while it seemed like Lorren and the werecat went in search of the guard, who had gone inside for some mead.


“listen Kommrade, I am Indomitis Ameratsu, Chosen of Guntera. It is my wish that you accompany me on a journey of sorts. Through it all life that you have known will be left behind and glory for your house shall be gained lost or even regained according to your actions. What say you Criminal, will you come with us?”



Lorren had returned at this point and the guard waited for the response of the criminal before setting the man free. The company waited while the criminal stretched his aching muscles and rubbed his wrists. Indomitis then proffered his hand, “Welcome. You already know my name. now what is yours? My friends can introduce them self” he said with a slight smile. His brown hair gleamed lightly in the well lit outside plaza and it made his eyes twinkle mysteriously.


The four of them then set off towards the military district which was located directly behind the district of law and they son found themselves at the gate. Once again calling to the gate keeper above Indomitis shouted. “Gate keeper, it is again I, Indomitis, my guests and I seek passage” A minute later the gates clanged shut behind them, trapping them in the black marble military district. Lorren took leave shortly after Indomitis suggested he bring his mean to the barracks his men were stationed. Noting with some sadness that the werecat and the criminal followed him Indomitis stretched as he walked down a different path to get to the same place.


Once inside his Order’s barracks he noted that Roka had not turned up yet. His men rushed to their feet as Indomitis entered and the most senior of them bellowed “Bastion!” calling the group to attention. Indomitis sighed and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. A long hour went by as he explained their new mission. It was only interrupted by the arrival of Lorren and his men. The two groups then sat in the crowded but well lit wooden structure and listened to Indomitis.

“Look my brothers. Look to your left and look to your right. These men are your life. You guard them as you guard yourself. The king has assigned us; The Hammer of Guntera, and the Rough Hammers of the Dwarven army to this task. Forget these names Brothers! For now we are The Twin Hammers! Forget your old lives men, for they are dead in service to the king. For tomorrow we go and break free the world of dwarves from their confinement. Tomorrow we set out in search of our general. And allies most dangerous. Just remember that we are DWARVES! The most Ancient and Noble RACE!”

to this he took his knee off a crate he had been using and swept back the lid. Revealing bottles upon bottles of the finest Dwarven whiskey. “Drink!” he cried and was rewarded with a night of celebration.

Later that night as the entire group, even the werecat enjoyed their drinks Lorren made a similar speech, to which more drinking was the response. Even the werecat and criminal said something. A rumble between the criminal and one of Lorren’s boys broke out but it was played off with good feeling. Indomitis even took the werecat by the hand and danced a merry jig around the room. Such was the level of drunkenness in that barracks that Indomitis felt a mind cold as ice suddenly pierce his defenses.

“Where are you? I was detained a bit.”

Thinking back to the mind that he knew so well he muttered mutely “Drinking lassie! Get your fine figure in here and enjoy yourself!”

[/i] with his words he sent pictures of the barracks Knowing that she would arrive soon he motioned to his group and told them Roka would soon be here. And that they had to have a present for the fine lady ready. Quickly filling in Lorren and the others they stationed a bucket of water above the door. When she opened it, it would drop soaking the poor woman completely. Many of them smiled at this, realizing only later how dumb of an idea it was to piss off their second in command
The door opened.


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[~Ninthroe~]

Lorren was thoroughly engaged in the conversation with Indomitis of the practicality of their primary weapon choice. He personally always bore a sword, but there was something very satisfying about smacking a foe in the head with a hammer, or even one of his own regiment members. Watching them stumble around holding their helmet was always amusing when they were exceptionally foolish. He did it often too, and the Rough Hammers had gotten to calling it a "Mountain Thump."

He was just sharing this anecdote with Indomitis when he interrupted him softly with the words of being followed, at which he instantly fought the urge to stiffen and turn abruptly on the spot. As important as this mission was for himself there was no way someone else was going to mess this up for him. And how would they know the importance of this mission already anyway?

These questions were running through his head as Indomitis turned around and interrogated the eavesdropper. The individual particles of his body were all buzzing with the thrill of what they were about to embark on, though he refused to show this and instead settled with a look of mild annoyance at every little thing that hindered his mission. But that didn't have to be faked. He was thoroughly annoyed.

Hmmm.. Someone outside of Tronjheim. And not a dwarf. HMPH! Still a hinderance. He grumbled under his breath at Indomitis as he invited the werecat, a total STRANGER, along as they discussed one of the most important expeditions of the dwarven kingdom in centuries. This didn't settle with him at all. But suddenly realizing this werecat probably didn't speak the dwarven tongue, he decided he wasn't going to openly state his feelings. But they were probably well-known from his demeanor.

As what seemed to be eons passed, the three of them set about their way again, passing through the markets. Something caught Lorren's eye in one of the market stalls close to the fountain and he veered off to the side as he saw Indomitis start to approach the statue of Guntera. Knowing he was about some Bastion business he figured it wouldn't hurt to check out this fancy mug being displayed. Some bastard broke his tankard during their last night at the tavern and he was a fan of well-designed mugs. And this one had an intricate design of two hammers crossed over a shield. Seemed symbolic enough to have an excuse to buy it, he thought. He paid for it and took the tankard, walking back to the other two to hear Indomitis explaining his position to she-who-knows-not-a-damn-thing.

He waved his new mug sheepishly at Indomitis, trying to figure out what epic excuse he was about to come up with to even justify buying this. "Eh, I liked it." He was a dwarf of simple desires. And silver drinking tankards hard enough to put a dent in an oaf's head without breaking the mug itself was one of those simple desires. He hooked the handle of his mug through one of the loops in his outfit and took whatever Indom said with indifference. He liked what he liked, and he bought it when he saw it.

Just as he was about to urge them on again something orange caught his eye in the stark contrast of the rest of the circle. He turned and saw a prisoner chained in a stockade and pointed him out to Indom. "Some kind of hair, huh?" Not that he had anything to say in remark to hair differences. But he wasn't being insulting about it.

But his mild amusement suddenly shifted to raging frustration as Indom seemed to take his observation as a sign to say 'hey, let's delay our preparations more to save yet another prisoner.' He had done this before, several times even. But he didn't see now as the time. The last thing he needed to do was pick up a new recruit so soon before this expedition! He voiced these concerns to an ignoring Bastion as he marched towards the prisoner.

Sighing with defeat as he saw his valid points going nowhere, he waited until the guard came back with a key and set free the prisoner to introduce himself. "Lorren Mountainhammer. I'm your new asshole who's gonna tear you a few ones within the week. Welcome to the Rough Hammers." He didn't bother to shake his hand and looked immediately to Indom to lead the way again, as it seemed to be him deciding when to stop and when to go. His respect was going to have to be earned, not given. Craddock here was about to learn that lesson really quick.

Once they got through the gate, Lorren too, Craddock straight to the barracks with his new comrades housed inside. Lorren knocked twoce on the door before kicking it in with his boots. "Boys!" He bellowed loudly, shocking his unit up from their sleep or free time. "Meet Craddock, our new Hammer. Craddock, meet the Hammers." He gestured to them all. "Get to know each other. But save it for the night. We got business to attend to!" With that he marched right back out the door, heading to where Indom had his own regiment with him.

Lorren raised his fist to Indom's speech as his Rough Hammers rowdily cheered, looking at their new comrades and yelling unintelligibly, but as the barrel broke open amd whiskey was sighted the telling rose to hysteria. The dwarves all rushed to the whiskey and grabbed their bottles, Lorren standing alongside Indomitis. Lorren looked at one of his men as he came back trying to grab a fourth bottle and he calmly planted his boot on his face, shoving him away with it and reaching down to grab a bottle. "My whiskey," he muttered, unhooking his tankard and popping open the bottle, pouring the goods into his new mug.

As the drinking progressed Lorren finally stood up and climbed up on top of the long table, stomping his boots to get everyone's attention. "Alright! Indom gave his pretty speech, it's my turn to be pretty!" He looked around at everyone and swayed to the side, catching his balance before he fell off the table. He snapped his head to a snickering pair of dwarves he knew well, twins named Rock and Boulder and the biggest and burliest dwarves in his squadrom and threw his mug at them. "Aye! My turn for pretty." He glared at them for a moment longer. "Now give my my tank back."

He snatched his tankard back and picked up another dwarves' whiskey bottle, pouring himself a full mug before tossing the near-empty bottle. "Alright! So, I'm Commander Hammer. Or at least that's what you're all gonna call me! Or Lorren, I guess that works too. If I like ya. Now! We've gotta go and find this General.. I'll remember his name in the morning. But yeah, that guy! And we've gotta kick some ass along the way to do this. It's gonna get rough, and it's gonna be fun. But I swear to you know, on my drunken honor.. If you rotten bastards don't do what me and this lovely Bastion say, I'm gonna kick your shiny teeth in! And that is all." He bowed and fell backwards off of the table half into his seat, much to the cheering and laughing of his own Rough Hammers.

He sat up and caught the eye of his second-in-command as he suddenly remembered Indom saying something of his own second not arriving yet. Which gave him a nasty idea. "Ice! Get me ice and a bucket!" Once they got the materials, he and a few of the boys set it up on top of the door to have it toppling down as she would open it.

And so they waited until it opened. And when it did... Oh boy. All hell broke lose. Lorren and his boys got the most surprising thirty minutes of their long lives that night.

~~~~~~~

Lorren awoke in the same room with his ass stuck in a barrel and the nastiest hangover he'd had in a long time. As was the way with him and his group, they drank until they dropped, and unless moved they never did u til they woke up. But seeing that he was the first awake, he decided he'd clear his head before he had to deal with their griping later.

He picked up his tankard and hooked it back on him and then walked outside to get a breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as the inside of the mountains got. He groaned at the pain and after a good half hour walked back in and kicked all of his men awake. "Get up, damn you all! We're late." Which they weren't really, but as he stepped back outside he saw Indom and his men already strapped and ready. And of course they would be, it was to be expected of their kind. And they looked better than he himself was feeling.

Lorren nodded to Roka. It was going to take a lot more than last night to gain his respect for her, but last night was a good step towards it. He certainly was going to wait at least a few days before pranking her again. Maybe. He cleared his throat and nodded to the group as a whole as he and his men oassed them, heading for their barracks to get their things. It was time to go.

He and his hammers packed their things and loaded them all up on their squadron's wooden wagon. Their symbol, a hammer with a crack going through the side of it, was engraved in the front as a sign of whose possessions were theirs. At this large of a group going on an expedition he figured they would need maybe more than one mule to pull the load.

After offering to Indom if they would like to have anything else loaded onto the wagon, he nodded to one of his squadron to lead the mule and the other 13 Rough Hammers including himself and Craddock to fan out around it in their protective formation, as this was often their assignment to protect traveling loads through the mountains from bandits and rogues and they were good at it.

Lorren took the point position to discuss with Indomitis their first destination. "If we are to see this outside world, I would say that Surda may be the best place to start. I've heard stories of it and it might be best to see the smallest of the large cities and work our way north-northeast from there." It was also a great place to collect information, or so his studies as a youngster scholar had told him. After hearing Indom's eventual agreement as he was not taking no for am answer, they left the Beors and turned west. And so Surda was where they were going.

[Mali]

Mali had a fun time drinking with the dwarves that she had almost forgiven Indom for berating her and calling her a human child. She may look young, but she was old. Well, she considered herself a little old. She wouldn’t say that she was as old as an elf though, just forty.

But she was asleep peacefully when she heard someone start shouting. Jumping up immediately, shocked to have been woken up so forcefully, Mali looked around with wide eyes. Oh, it was him. What was his name again? Something hammer. She tried to think about it more but felt her head of mush start to grind against a rock and decided she would just call him hammer.

“What’s going on Hammer?” she then noticed the rest of the men around her scrambling to their feet and getting ready. Stretching in a rather feline way, she stood up and collected the few items that she had with her.

Mali didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but she knew that this would lead her back to Niko and Arashi. As long as she got to see her friends again, she thought that she might as well travel with company.

~~~~~

Surda. They were headed to Surda and Mali wasn’t completely sure why. They were looking for someone, that much she knew, but no one seemed to tell her who. She may not speak the Dwarvish language but they should know common. Most people knew common. And it wasn’t like she was trying to be rude, she was just curious about what was going on. Who were they looking for?

Mali trudged along behind the group as they walked—well, the men seemed to march really—toward their destination. It was hot and the sun was high above their heads now and Mali felt that she really should have brought a canteen with water with her. She had a canteen, but it was currently empty. Of course it was, she had decided to sleep at their last check point instead of fill up on supplies. It wasn’t like she had to stock up though, since there was always food around that the men shared with her.

It was then that someone in command suggested that they take a break and Mali felt relieved. She immediately looked to the men who had shared their food with her and saw them taking long gulps of their canteens and knew that she could easily ask them for some water but she didn’t feel like interrupting. She had no idea when they would be finished drinking anyway.

Looking around some more, she noticed Indom and the canteen close beside him and walked over. He was currently discussing something with his men and Mali really didn’t want to interrupt their discussion but she was dying here. Sneaking up, she reached over to try to grab the canteen but found that someone grabbed her hand before she was able to grasp the metal container. Damn!

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[pauliusmaximus]

Craddock spent the better part of his afternoon in the stockade, He had a lot of time to think, He started to wonder if the old man set him up on purpose due to the guards being rather diligent in their finding of him, or maybe he just isn’t as sneaky as he thought he was. As more time passed they guard came out a few times and slapped him jokingly teasing him about the predicament, Craddock was not pleased at all by this unsurprisingly but not having much choice in the matter tried to ignore it as best he could. Though what did come as a surprise was what followed shortly, He was confronted by two noble looking dwarfs and the figure of a creature he was not familiar with, but bared some resemblance to a human, as they approached he noticed one of the dwarfs lacked a beard, a strange sight to witness he thought. The beadles dwarf and the human like creature separated from the other well-dressed dwarf, he was unable to make out much in the way of features in his current situation.
The dwarf introduced himself as Indomitis Ameratsu, Chosen of Guntera, such a title was unfamiliar too him but he seemed to have arranged his release so responded saying “Yes if it gets me out of this bind I am in”, Indomitis nodded at the guard and had Craddock set free. He took a few short moments to stretch his aching muscles, after he was standing in a comfortable way Indomitis offered a handshake and a request for his name. “Craddock” he said taking Indom up on the handshake. The unbeaded dwarf proceeded to also introduce himself but not offering the same courtesy as Indom and mentioned something about a group of hammers, unsure what to think of all this he proceeded to follow is saviours somewhat blindly, as they passed through a rather large gate the group parted ways He followed Lorren and the other strange being to a building housing what be assumed to be this group of hammers Lorren mentioned upon introducing himself.
As the night went on Craddock sat alone mulling over the events of the past few days feeling a little out of place amongst military men, this did not hind the fact that he drunk himself into a stupor. He woke up to the sound of Lorren’s booming voice and found himself on the floor below where he had been sitting the previous night, not being a morning person it took a swift boot from one of the hammers to get him up and about ready to move off to who knows where, He didn’t really care as long as he never saw those chains again.

[pilgrimofmanynames]

Drinking, lassie! Get your fine figure in here and enjoy yourself! Well, that was that. She looked around again and matched a section of barracks to the accompanying mental images. The door wasn't marked in any way, which would seem to indicate somebody's lapse of judgement. If they were that drunk already, she would have to put all thoughts of quiet rest out of her mind - and deal with a bunch of hung-over soldiers. She couldn't quite shake that quiet rest, though. She blinked hard and headed for the door, her steel boots making sharp, cold clacking noises on the stones. The echoes pierced near-total silence and gave the area the feel of a museum. Then she opened the door, and that fell away in about two seconds flat.

A torrent of water came to meet her, drenching her from head to toe. She flinched a little. The water was as cold as the snows of Nabban, and for a moment she had a horrible memory of being lost, cold, and alone in a uniform whiteness that she couldn't find her way out of. By Guntera, she hated being lost. And if she didn't do something about that water, her armor would probably rust, expertly crafted dwarven or not. That was a good thought, a grounding thought. She wasn't lost. She was here, with a batch of belligerent twats. Typical.

She was, without a doubt, angry beyond belief. How dare those inebriated numbskulls pull something like this? On her, no less! Although that wouldn't be a problem for Indom, of course. She hoped it wasn't him, because then she couldn't do much in retaliation. But as prone as he could sometimes be to this sort of thing, she rather thought that it was somebody else. Somebody she very much wanted to stab repeatedly right now. She shook her head slightly to clear it and tamped down her anger into a mental nub of power. Then she spun into action, taking out her huthivir and spinning it with one hand faster than most eyes could follow. Her mind utterly divorced from her body in a movement purely governed by muscle memory, she brought one of her weapon's twin blades down and cut the bucket from which the water had come neatly in two. That helped some. She wasn't normally this showy, but hopefully that would scare some sense into the lower-ranking Paladins. Or anyone else who was here, but that possibility was so vague she didn't even bother to imagine who it might be.

She glared at the bucket's bifurcated remains ferociously, then looked up to see smiles frozen on the faces of Indomitis, the other Paladins, several other people who were completely unfamiliar to her, and what she thought to be a werecat, judging from the tail. There were others, then. That was as plain as the nose on her face. She wanted to slap the silly grins off each and every one of them. She had been in a bad mood to begin with. Then these miserable piles of Feldunost droppings had, for some reason, decided that a bucket of ice-cold water was the best way to welcome their tired and angry superior. She was bursting with energy, and she wanted yell at (or destroy) everyone in sight. Her tamped-down nub had exploded in the time it took her to put on that little show. Damn. Discipline! Discipline before action! But it was too late now, so she'd have to grit her teeth and try not to explode.

She took a moment to compose herself and took the more civilized option. With luck, that would not only help her, but also get it into the Urgal-thick heads of the spectacularly foolish and preposterously hammered men that she was not to be trifled with. "I have had one hell of a day. I have to deal with a bunch of morons in a class that isn't even mine. I get lost in a maze the size of Tronjheim. And now, in practically the middle of the night, when what I really need is a bunk and some quiet, I get this brilliant welcome. I swear, Indom, if this was your idea..." She looked down at herself - completely soaked - and sighed. "Thurra," she muttered, spitting the spell out like a curse as she drew on her anger and some of the power reserves in her opal earring. The water covering her evaporated.

She marched in, the door swinging loudly and creakily shut behind her, and sat, slouching. "What I'd mainly like right now, as I just told you not one minute ago, is a good meal and some rest." Her voice sounded ever so slightly ragged as she said that - a sure sign that she was either exhausted, or feeling very strongly about something. Both, at the moment, she'd bet. She eyed the whiskey her fellow Paladins were drinking and added, "And a drink. If you haven't already finished most of it." That would be good. It would likely give her a boost in forgetting that she had just walked through a door that had a bonus of water that was still half ice.

Her scowl of earlier hours came back as she went over the feeling of the ice in her mind. She was starting to get a very wicked idea of her own, which involved the memory, still carrying the power to make her dully frustrated, of a huthivir class full of idiots, and no small amount of bruises for whichever of these laughably drunk morons had decided to tip ice water on a Paladin of Guntera. Second-in-command to Indom, too, which should have given them some clue as to her skill - but no, it seemed they'd had too much whiskey already to think that logically. She rolled her eyes to an extent she couldn't help but be proud of and straightened in her chair. "And whose idea was it to put that damned bucket up?" she demanded with no trace of the thoughtful, world-weary tone she'd almost unconsciously assumed. She was careful to only raise her voice a little - if she yelled properly, it would just blend in with the rest of the cries in the room. She did so hope somebody would answer. She was itching to try out this little idea-germ, elegant and simple as it was.

[.:[Crim]:.]

Forward unto the drunken dawn is where Indom’s drunken state lead him. It was nice being able to drink with his newfound comrades in the rough hammers, but not as nice as pulling a prank on his second in command. He might have to deal with Roka later but that was easily dealt with, or at least so he thought. So begrudingly Indom snapped open his eyes and absorbed the barracks with a new sight. Drunken dwarves were everywhere, sprawled in barrles and other such furniture. There were a few stains on the black granite floor where some idiot had lost his drink. Skirting the mess indom looked sideways into the bunk where the werecat was sleeping. Thinking about her posistion here gave Indom some pause as he thought of just how vital she would be. Most paladins spoke common, but it was a broken and fragmented thing as dwarves rarely left the safety of the Beors. Pushing his thoughts aside as he reached the door of the barracks he turned and shouted in his loudest voice.
“Paladins, Get your kit were moving out!”
The following chaos of paladins rushing about was amusing to him as he saw several have to redress after they put their tunics or mail on backwards. The twelve of them left the main door and wandered into the formation square slightly outside the barracks.
“Attention! Face the gates, fall in formation!”
With just a few commands Indom had gotten his men into perfect block formation. He looked at their drunken faces and sighed. Raising his left hand he snapped his fingers and spoke in the ancient language. The spell was an intresting but dead useful one. For what was inebriation if not a temporary impairment in ones’ blood. The spell was the equivalent to spending hours sobering up and yet it cost him minimal energy.

Now that the group of his men were stationed bright eyed and bushy tailed in perfect formation he heard the door open once again and Lorren, who had been missing when indom awoke, and his men came tumbling out of the barracks and started loading a wagon in the pale morning light of the black square. The wagon was a simple thing but it held quite a bit. Indom thanked lorren gratefully when he offered If indomitis wanted to store anything in the wagon and after a few moments of thought he stowed his shield inside the covered cart.
Turning to Lorren he listened as Lorren suggested heading to surda, which was logical and indom had to agree after a few moments of the dangers of the crumbling gardens of Centaura blastheim. Indom agreed after a few moments then as if in after thought he whistled loudly. Calling everyone’s attention to him.
“Twin Hammers! Such is the name given to us and so we shall set to strike deep into the foriegn world. Come now komrades as we set off into the annals of history!”
With that the group started to move out, each different group keeping perfect time to the stride set by indomitis and lorren, who were both at the head of the group. The wide streets of Tronjheim were filled with anxious eyed dwarves as the group made its way through the central chambers. Indom knew that it was not everyday that a group of men such as themselves went through this solemn chamber. But he pushed the thought aside and the streets turned into the raised paths of the open mountain. The streets were wider, and the military had blocked off civilian access to this road for a few hours so it was wide open. Whistling a high then low command his men instantly grouped closer together and walked in a block formation in front of the wooden wagon. With the Rough hammers as perimeter Indom felt no real danger, but he liked to show off, and he had an idea brewing, one that would prove to be most fun.

Four hours later as they were taking their second break of the day as it was sweltering hot and they traveled at a break neck pace Indom stood talking to his men. It was mostly small talk, shooting the Fanghur, as his men called it. It wasnt until a ward pinged slightly in his mind that he twirled around hand dropping to his Saxe and the other to the offending appendage.
The werecats eyes blinked slowly back up at him as he held her wrist in a vice strong grip. Indom’s eyes were grey, but they seemed alight as he searched the very windows to her soul. “Tell me child, is it often that you seek what is not yours? There should be an extra canteen in the wagon, requisition on from roka.” With that he released her grip and turned back to his men, the cold shoulder he was offerign was almost tangible.
After the break as they set into the next leg of their journey through the lantered tunnels of the dwarves Indomitis turned to lorren and smiled wickedly, makign sure he caught his attention. It was after their gaze met that indomitis shouted. “Paladins! Let us find out what our comrades are made of! Spar and march lets move!” with a snap of his fingers and a muttered word all the weapons they possessed were dulled to prevent actual damage.

It was with such a simple command that an organized march that still kept their speed turned into a brawl as well. Each paladin was a sight to behold, skirts billowing as they twirled, ducked or rolled into combat with the Rough hammers. Axes flashed and swords clanged as the two groups slowed their pace yet still moved forward. The combat was moderately intense yet it was done at breakneck speeds. Indomitis smiled and drew his sword on lorren, rolling in front of the man then vaulting into the air slashing upwards. The attack landed, but not on flesh, Smiling Indomitis twirled back a step and threw a vastly curved right sweep at Lorren’s arm, followed by a quick stab aimed at the man’s legs and a another upward slice after a feint towards the left arm. The pair of them continued their struggle and yet still marched on the entire time. With lighting speed as he saw the black blade of lorren speeding towards his unprotected left side indom grasped the hilt of the Saxe on his skirt and parried at the last moment. Now armed in two hands the battle between them began anew as Indomitis was intrested in just how well of a swordsman Lorren was.

It was another hour before indomitis called a stop to their marching spar and people almost collapsed where they stood as each man and woman with them was drenched in sweat.

Glancing around the small chamber that they emptied into after a few more moments of mere walking the group began to set up camp. The Caravan was put in the middle and the command tent went up. The tent was made of a fine grey fabric and almost blended into the dulleness of the chamber. Indomitis sat at the entrance flap on a barrel just outside. He had been sharpening his kit when he felt a familiar pressure on the side of his mind. It was not whom he thought it would be but he was glad none the less. Roka had contacted him and sent him a general feeling of wariness for he had sent her to check the perimeter with Craddock and Lorren. A fire flashed from the end of Indomitis’ finger as he lit another ciggarette and inhaled sharply, he hadnt noticed that the werecat had approached as he did so.
“Hail little one”