The World's Crown was far removed from the rest of Charon, a perfect place for an adventurer to go and have a vacation With her flying wagon; that's exactly what Cirice decides to do. She's heard of the Sludge Pits from her friends, and never been to Bleak Fort before, so it sounds like a great idea to go have a nice trip to the hot springs. Especially after her failed trip to the spring in Dragon’s Cradle was more combat than relaxation. At least she’d gotten to make a new friend in Lady Gwen! The idea of being surrounded by snow and yet cozy and warm in a bath really enticed Cirice and she hoped this time there wouldn’t be any angry arculia to stir up trouble. Maybe while she’s in town she’ll check out a fight or two, after she’s done relaxing.

Smiling to herself as her spectral reindeer Hitia pulls her wagon through the streets of the dwarven city, she looks around at the intricately carved stone building all around her and marvels at just how different this city is to any other she’s been to before. Dwarves certainly have a different style to the rest of the world, leagues different from the fashion of her homeland. She’s used to standing out wherever she goes, but here she really looks out of place in her silk skirts and poofy shirts. She and Hitia stop as a large procession of dwarves pass by solemnly, holding their shields above their heads atop which rests another of their number. She isn’t sure what the procession is exactly and curiosity gets the better of her. Hopping down from the seat of her wagon she starts, following the group, unsure if the dwarf they’re carrying is in need of some sort of help, but ready to offer help if she can.

Thane Anvilgrind hadn't been very well liked. He was loud, opinionated, and no one could really remember him ever paying for his own drink. Still though, he'd been Thane of the Anvilgrind Clan, and that if nothing else came with a certain respect. Byrnir let out a long sigh, glancing up at the still form of Thane Anvilgrind lain atop a row of shields being carried by his Hearthguard. It wasn't public knowledge that he'd been murdered, and the handful of Clandwarfs who did know, were keeping it close to their chest. Byrnir had made the repairs to the Thanes armour to hide the ugly rent in the metal. There would be a time and place to let the Hold know one of their Thanes had been murdered, but that would have to wait until the Clan leaders had chosen a new Thane.

A soft metallic clinking sound drew Byrnir's attention back to the bier, professional anxiety causing Byrnir to think perhaps his handiwork had come undone, and some errant links might have come loose. He noticed a shadow dart through the procession, and the auric flash of Galbaraz. Panic setting in, he quickly counted the Oathgold set around the Thanes body. Several pieces were now missing. Byrnir saw more glittering behind the procession as a small dark shape flickered down a narrow gap between buildings. He gripped his runehammer and freed it of its loop, he paused for a moment as he noticed an elgi girl. A strange sight, he saw a puzzled look appear on her face and she stooped to pick something up from the ground. It was a piece of Galbaraz! As he turned to shout at the foolish elgi for daring to touch dwarf Oathgold, a hoarse voice from behind Byrnir screamed "SKAZ!, that bloody elgi is skazzing the Thanes Galbaraz!"

It might have been a trick of the light but Cirice thought she saw something move through the procession, a shadow move past quickly and head her way. There’s a tinkling sound and she looks down to see a few solars lying on the ground. Confused, she bends down to pick them up.

“Um I think you dropped-” She starts to call out but is cut off when someone starts screaming in a language she doesn’t quite understand. She looks up in confusion, the coins in her hand. “Huh?”

As several of the angry Hearthguard broke ranks and drew their hammers, Byrnir surprised himself by stepping out and blocking their path.

"Hold! We all know elgi are as prone to trickery and theft as... well, an elgi! But even a half blind wazzock would have noticed this skinny elgram traveler Skazzin' about near the Thane. On my Oath I saw something grobi-like skulking off just before the elgi grabbed the gold. Best dreng 'em before they get away, and not waste our time with this elgi"

Still angry, the lead Hearthguard approached the elgi and held out his hand. "Well, then get after it Runesmith, unless you ken someone more suited fer the task. And since you vouch for the elgi, it'll be a grudge on you if she disappears before the oathgold is returned."

Byrnir turns to the elf, and shrugs.

"Well, elgi?"

Utterly and thoroughly confused, Cirice just stares at the dwarves. Half of what they said was unintelligible to her, other than that they were angry. One of the dwarves came up and held out his hand and she returned the solars she’d picked up to him.

“Me? Am I elgi? I’m Cirice.” She responds, pointing to herself, “Sorry I didn’t understand most of what you said… But something was stolen? I’ll help you get it back! I’m an adventurer, I’m good at helping people!”


She looks over the dwarven man with the grey beard and large hammer before her, she’s not spent time with any dwarves outside of Astrid, so this is a chance to learn more about a strange and wonderful culture! She claps her hands together in excitement.

“I thought I saw some sort of shadow pass me, we should see if we can find it!” Without waiting for agreement she turns and starts looking around, “I wish I saw where it went… Oh maybe down this alley?”


She summons her sword into her hand and casts light on it, if there's someone hiding in the shadows that should help them reveal the thief.

Eyeing the glowing sword, Byrnir scowls.


"Aye, I saw something down that alley. Reckon we should start there and check for spoor. If it was grobi or a raki, there will be a sign."


Moving to the alley, Byrnir looks at Cirice.


"Tell me Elfling, why are you in our city? I may not think you had a hand in thieving our oathgold, but I'm not convinced your being here was a coincidence."

“I don’t know what any of those things are, sir…” Cirice confesses, “I came here to go to the Sludge Pits hot springs! I wanted a vacation from adventure, but here we are! I just so happened to wonder what you guys were doing… What were you doing, by the way? I’ve never seen a procession like that before.”


“I didn’t catch your name by the way. Like I said I’m Cirice, Cirice Lunestre. Who might I have the pleasure of searching for shadows with?”


She sweeps her sword around, banishing the shadows away as they search the alley. The alley leads to a pair of backstreets that wind behind the main thoroughfare. To the left a crate has fallen over, the potatoes still rolling across the ground.

"It looks like they went that way!"

Byrnir stomps over to the crate and takes several deep sniffs, rifling through the fallen produce.


"Byrnir, son of Bruenor. Though some here call me Gundadrakk, or Dragonhammerer in your tongue. Leave it to an efling to seek relaxation in a puddle of mud..."


Byrnir suddenly stops and lifts a small yellow crescent shape from the pile of potatoes.


"Ha! Grobi nail trimmings, the little wazzock is nervous, is it?"


Byrnir turns to the left side of the alleyway and boots open the small wooden door leading into the building, before stomping inside.


"It was a funeral, elfling. Our Thane passed recently, and his hearthguard were taking his body back to the stone."


As he spoke Byrnir began searching the large warehouse he'd entered, it was absolutely packed with large crates, and barrels, but just enough space had been left for a dwarf to walk between the rows. The warehouse was lit primarily by the wan light of the overcast sun streaming through small slit windows, but a scant smattering of functional glowstones had been artificed into the walls and ceiling, providing a sickly green light.

“Byrnir Dragonhammer? That sounds awesome! Astrid would like that. Why wouldn’t I want to have a nice relaxing bath in hot mud? Its supposed to be good for your skin.”

“Whats a grobi? Or a wazzok? I’ve never heard those words before…” Cirice asks, watching his process. “Oh I’m sorry to hear that. It looked like he was really well-liked by the size of the funeral then. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Picking her way through the warehouse behind him she stops, “Wait someone stole from your funeral?!? That’s awful! We really must bring them to justice! Let me see, maybe if we split up…?” She wonders aloud before seeing something that looks like a slight shadow on the ground. They’re being watched.

“Byrnir?” She says without looking at him, "do me a favor and look away from me for a moment please? We aren’t alone. Cover the exit, I’ll scare them out of hiding.”

Shadows around Cirice seem to shift and the hairs on the back of Byrnir’s neck start to stand on end as a cold finger of dread fear touches all those looking at the elven lass. In the shadows there’s a startled scream and movement as a few small figures scramble to get away from the very figures they’d been about to ambush¹.

"They're running, get them!" She shouts, her sword unfurling into a whip and wrapping itself around the nearest goblin's torso before it can get very far. The metal surrounds the diminutive form, biting into its flesh and spilling green blood on the floor as it cries out in pain.

---

1 Invoke Fear: anyone who can see you becomes scared of you. Non player characters and creatures will instantly fear you, choosing to flee and put distance between you. Player characters will find it hard to face you, doing their best to avoid you if they can. Those effected by this fear can not take any offensive actions towards you, such as striking with a weapon or casting a spell. The fear will last for their next post and can be used twice per topic.

Byrnir eyes the whip-sword dubiously


"Typical elfling, ruining perfectly good metal"



Byrnir turns toward the handful of greenskins who were displaying either tremendous courage, or extraordinary fear, and bellows a warcry, charging towards them hammer raised!


"KHAZUUK! KHAZUKAN HA!"


Goblins begin bursting from crates all around the pair, loosing panicked, poorly aimed arrows that skitter and whiz, striking almost everything but their intended target.


As Byrnir smashes down a couple of goblins, several black feathered shafts thud into his chest. Showing no sign that he'd noticed the arrows he positioned himself to guard Cirice's flank.


"Nothing for it elfling, if we stay here in the open we'll be pincushioned. Grobi arrows are no death for a Runesmith."


As he speaks he throws his hammer with all his might, smashing down yet another goblin before the runic tattooos on his left hand glow briefly, and his hammer reappears in his hand.¹

---

Summon Possession: Item Pray return to the waking hands

“Ruined? This is awesome what are you talking about??” Cirice asks incredulously as she turns the ring again and the whip retracts, bringing the goblin with it that she finishes off with a well-placed stab.

“Oh you can summon your weapon too! Nice! That will make this extra useful then. Sorry in advance.” She giggles and a wave of violet energy explodes out from her twenty feet in all directions. All the arrows, bows, cudgels, clubs and any other weapon within that radius except for Cirice’s sword disappears with a popping sound¹.

“You should be able to summon your hammer back. But for nooooow…” The ring on her finger glows brightly and she releases the mechanism on her sword to turn it into a whip once more, dancing through the crowd of confused goblins and cutting them down gracefully².

“I feel pretty bad for them honestly…”

---

1 Disarming Aura: By casting this spell, you send a wave of energy out and up to 20 feet in all directions. Space magic will grab a hold of all weapons on all persons inside of the aura. For the next two post all Blades, Blunt weapons, polearms, ranged or other type of weapon will blink out of space and cease to exist. All enchantments and additions will also vanish with the item, leaving the caster and all other affected person without weapons.

2 Blade Dance: With your weapons feeling as light as air in your capable hands, you are able to whirl them around you in beautiful and complicated ways as if you were performing a dance. If you are within melee range of an enemy while whirling your weapons in this way, your next attack will ignore hit preventions. If you are not within melee range of an enemy, you will instead gain one hit prevention against ranged physical attacks. Can only be used twice per topic. (From Gerhart's Ring)

Roaring with sheer bellicose rage, Byrnir teeters around the tight confines of the box maze, spinning and smashing with his runic hammer. After a particularly sickening crunch spewing green blood across his face, soaking into his beard, Byrnir pauses half a heartbeat to flick goblin blood out of his eyes, winding up another boneshattering attack as he does so. Just before it connects, the violet wave of light causes his mace to vanish. Spluttering in fury, Byrnir continues his swing, transforming the attack into a punch which flattens the unfortunate goblins face with a series of cracking and popping sounds.


"SODDING ELFLING MAGIC!"


Flickering runes on Byrnirs left hand recall his hammer, and he promptly swings it in wild but controlled arcs to smash and batter goblins back. Noticing the murderous greenskins are unarmed, he begins to cackle like a maniac.¹


"Maybe Elfing magic is useful for something afterall! I'll be striking my brothers grudge out today! HA HA!"


By this point, several dozen goblins lay prone on the floor, either cut to ribbons by Cirice's whip sword, or shattered by Byrnirs Runehammer. The remaining greenskins, sensing a turn in the tide of battle, all begin screeching in the harsh barking shrieks of their language, and sprinting towards a particular corner of the warehouse, where they seem to be disappearing.


Byrnir, covered in blood, shouts obscenities and insults about the greenskins valor as they retreat, but does not follow. Instead he turns to Cirice.


"You acquitted yourself well enough elfling. Not too fancy for tunnel fighting are you?"

---

Summon Possession - Put that item back where it came from or so help me.

“See? I’m helping!” Cirice giggles as he cackles, “I don’t know what grudge you’re talking about but good for you!”

She notices the retreat as the goblins start thinning and turns back to Byrnir, “Of course not! Let’s go!”

The little hole isn’t really very large and Cirice has to duck a little in order to get into the small opening, but she can hear the panicked chittering of the unfamiliar goblin language on the other side.

Into her hand she summons a small sphere of shadows and tosses it into the opening before her, it collides with a goblin, causing small amounts of damage and bouncing to the next until four of the creatures are all injured and looking for their assailant¹. Running forward Cirice grabs two of the gobins, dropping her sword and pushing them towards their companions. As she does so the runes on her arms flare to life under her gloves and the goblins keep their momentum going, attacking their former allies savagely².


"Oh my, they're angry now..." She can't help but giggle.

---

1 Bouncing Bubble - The owner will form a small bubble of pure water in their hand, which can then be thrown onto an ally or enemy. If the bubble touches an ally it will lightly heal surface level wounds and burns, however if it strikes an enemy it will deal a minor amount of water damage. If the hit target is within 10 feet of another person, the bubble will bounce from the original target to the new one, and can bounce up to three times, jumping from friend to foe.
2 Infuriate - By touching up to two people, you cause anger and rage to fill their minds. They will begin to thrash about, hitting things and causing an up roar. The anger wells up so much that they will even attempt to fight each other, regardless of their relationship. This spell will last for one post, causing the affected to ignore any actions they were taking and just flip out.

"Ware Elfling! Those are grobi tunnels, and like as not to collapse. Shoddy as they come. Crying shame what grobi do to stone."





Byrnir grumbles into his beard as he squeezes down the twisting goblin sized passage, less a tunnel and more of slight widening of an existing crack. The tunnel is marked all over with rough tool marks and smeared with goblin dung, little turds scattered everywhere with little regard for foot traffic.



As the goblins beat a frantic retreat down the tunnel, upping their panic as Cirices magic causes those at the rear to go berserk, a loud clamour begins echoing up the passage. The sound of hundreds of finger cymbals and lunatic laughter begins squeezing up the passage, and tall pointy cloth hats decorated with bones interspersed through the material can be seen above the heads of other goblins.



"Elfling! Those are fanatics! Come back! We need to collapse the tunnel! There's no fighting Mushroom Eaters in these tight quarters! And hold your breath!"



Byrnir somehow manages to turn his width and girth and head back towards the entrance of the tunnel, taking care to avoid most of the goblin turds.



Once outside, he smells the stone of the wall, taking a pinch of dust and studying it intently, he grunts, seemingly satisfied with something and takes out an iron chisel from his belt, holding it at an odd angle just above the tunnel, he waits for Cirice to emerge.



Meanwhile in the tunnel, the screams of the retreating goblins is being drowned out by the fanatics that are trampling and squeezing past them to get at Cirice and Byrnir. Coming into view, their sickly green skin and bulging red eyes seem to glow in the low light of the tunnel.



As soon as they have visual on the pair, the nearest of the fanatics takes out a handful of brightly colored mushrooms which seem to be oozing a dark brown ichor, and shoves them into its mouth. Within seconds the goblin begins shaking violently and foaming at the mouth, its eyes rolling around, incensed, and its flesh undulating just beneath the surface.



Launching itself above the heads of the other goblins, and scuttling along the wall, a handful of mycelial tendrils burst from its abdomen and whip towards Cirice.

“Huh?” Cirice asks as her warns her of the tunnels be dangerous, just as the so-called fanatics start coming towards her. She backtracks with a squeaked squeal, holding her breath like he said.

Squeezing herself out of the opening right as the terrible tendrils start after her, Cirice throws up a wall of pure light between herself and the assailants, filling the entire tunnel and sealing them off¹. Luckily the horrid smell is sealed away as well. The fungus hits the wall and spreads like a disgusting wave, trying to find any gaps.

“Okay well how can we collapse it?” She asks frantically as the fanatics pound against her wall. “Thats so gross…. I can hold them back if you have an idea Byrnir, I’m not good with much earth magic!”

---

1 Wall of light