Roan felt his heart thumping in his chest. For a moment, silence filled the hall. This had been a close one. Three to one, what a glorious death that would have been! He was filled with a certainty that Odin had much left for him to do.

It seemed to Roan that all this fighting was going to take a brief lull. Good, he could use a breather. He heaved a deep sigh and hung the twin Khopeshes, Rime and Reason, back in their frogs. He wiped sweat from his brow with the edge of his bracer, and smiled at the seven whom Odin had placed between him and Valhalla.

"Roan Fenstrider. Thank you for your help" His smile turned into a wolfish grin, and he added, "Though I had it all under control."

He extended his arm to the nearest party member and shook his hand firmly by the wrist, then proceeded to do the same to any who would accept his firm grip. After a moment of hand shaking and greeting, he added, “I’m looking for my team leader, the Lady Tegganth; we seem to have in the swirl of this place become separated. She's about so tall, not bad looking. She's a real warrior for her god, and bound in the King's service."

He blinked as their faces fell suddenly from mirth to something akin to fear. His heart skipped a beat. Silence returned to the hall, but this time it was different.

Ulthok shook the extended hand of the warrior. The human was strong and proud. When he asked,“I’m looking for my team leader, the Lady Tegganth; we seem to have in the swirl of this place become separated. She's about so tall, not bad looking. She's a real warrior for her god, and bound in the King's service."
The party fell silent and Ulthok held the grip,"Lady Tegganth,...in the service of her King,...has returned to her god." The halfling squeezed firmly and then released. "Join us and we will continue and finish her mission...along with that of those we too have lost.....I'm Ulthok Rydenham", turning to the Knight's Cleric, "This is Lord Cor Trollhammer, our leader."

Weaver excepted the hand of Roan Fenstrider when it was offered to him, ‘Magg… I mean Weaver,’ as the two shook hands in the old ways Weaver held him for a moment longer than needed and lightly sniffed the air. He released the hand of Roan Fenstrider and nodded.

Alyia leaned against the cold stone of the corridor, letting the others move to greet the newcomer.

the conversation seemed muffled by a low buzzing in her ears.

"Roan Fenstrider. Thank you for your help"...

“I’m looking for my team leader, the Lady Tegganth;...

(silence)

"Join us and we will continue...

I'm Ulthok Rydenham...

"This is Lord Cor Trollhammer...

Weaver...
Alyia leaned down placing her head in her hands. as the buzzing faded, their was nothing left in her now but numbness. she needed to harness it now, to use it for strength, for courage, for clout.

rubbing her hands over her face she sighed and ran her hands through her hair and letting it loose she combed through it with her fingers and proceed to "fix" it back into place. it wasn't the best place to groom oneself but she'd rather take the time now then have it haphazardly fall into her eyes at some inopportune moment. she fingered a singed strand and frowned slightly then began to quietly chuckle to herself.

how many times had they all almost died? were they any closer? did it even matter?

Absentmindedly she stroked the signet ring, which held the dijin Xin. his voice soothing and baritone rumbled into her mind.

"mistress, how may i assist you?"
Alyia smiled and leaned her head back against the wall.

"Xin, tell me something to lift my mood from this pit of woe and dispair." she mentaly projected to him. Alyia knew this was a waste of his talent and vast knowledge, but she also knew that Djin reveled in their ablity to story tell.

"ah, may hap the story of the tortis befits you. "
Alyia closed her eyes and listened to Xins rumblings.

"one day when tortis was still young, he had spent the day as many such before in the same routine an eating the same things. walking back to the spot in which he sunned himself in the afternoon he spotted a ripe peach on a low hanging branch but still yet far out of his reach. so tortis tried his might to get the peach, he tried moving rocks and branches to stand on an yet he could not reach. he tried throwing rocks at the branch hopping to knock the peach down but to no avail. and he tried climbing the tree but it proved to be impossible. finally as the light began to wain he piled up everything in a giant heap and clambered up on to it. the pile was rickety and the higher he climbed the more it began to shift. yet all the turtle could see was himself gorging on the ripe juicy peach so he pressed on. an at the top as he reached to pick the peach the pile slid and snapping his jaws closed on air he fell. sliding down the pile head over heels he came to an abrupt stop at the bottom scratched, bruised and squarely on his back. for the first while the tortis was to disheartened to try to move, his wounded pride and was so crestfallen he lay their and wept to himself bemoaning his loss. as the moon rose and the sounds of the night began to surround him he came to realized the new plight he was in. if some predator came alone he was a easy meal. so the tortis began to try and right himself. stretching his limbs and neck out, rocking back and forth. soon his struggles began to wind him and weary an one more disheartened he again cried to himself. woe is me and sobs continued till the sun was once more up in the sky. and with the heat of the day the tortis began to get thirsty. he once more realized his plight had became more dire. now if he didn't right himself and reach water he would surely parish. he tried with all of his might and will to right himself. an just when he was about to give in to disparage and exhaustion. he did it! he managed to right himself. he was so exhilarated he forgot about the peach and went to find something to quench his now parched throat. an since every time he went past the peach tree he remembered that no mater what situation you get into or find yourself in, giving in to woe and dispair will only cause you to put yourself inparrel needlessly. an that no matter the struggle if you don't try their will only be one out come, to fail. Oh, and the tortis did get his peach in the end. beings he made a daily trip past the tree everyday several days later he noted that the peach had fallen to the ground ripe and dripping with juice. so he ate it gladly bruise and all."
Xin's voice was soothing like a rippling brook and energy and pride only added to the inflection of his voice.

"thanks." Alyia thought. "you always know the best stories to cheer me up."
By the time Alyia opened her eyes everyone had but introduced them selves. Alyia stood and brushed off her breaches an straightened her cloak, sword and belt.

She moved to introduce herself with a slight bow.
"my name is Alyia Moonshaddow."

After Weaver introduced himself he stepped back and slipped away to…
The Lady Alyia caught his eyes he had forgotten what he was about to do as he watch the Half-Elf fix her honey colored hair. When she had finished she frowned slightly and Weaver was about to ask what the problem was when her frown turned to a quiet little chuckle. Any and all would have missed it but Weaver was watching her so he alone may have caught it. She seemed to be lost in thought as she stoked the ring on her delicate finger.

It was then Roan stepped forward and extended his hand, she was once more here she straightened her self and introduced herself as a true Lady would have.

Weaver shook this from his thought and went back to what it was he was doing, but he could not remember so he just fumbled around a bit with his pack and had hoped this would not later come back to bite hime.

"Roan Fenstrider. Thank you for your help" His smile turned into a wolfish grin, and he added, "Though I had it all under control."

He extended his arm to the nearest party member and shook his hand firmly by the wrist, then proceeded to do the same to any who would accept his firm grip. After a moment of hand shaking and greeting, he added, “I’m looking for my team leader, the Lady Tegganth; we seem to have in the swirl of this place become separated. She's about so tall, not bad looking. She's a real warrior for her god, and bound in the King's service."
Standing back for a moment, Cor let the introductions start. First was Ulthok, who introduce both himself and Cor. Cor smiled politely, but let the others continued. Next was Weaver, followed by Alyia. Alyia seemed... distracted. This castle must be getting to her. Just like it was Cor. The shear presence of evil had already taken him off of his game. He couldn't let that happen again. He had to pull himself together, and get as many out alive as he could. They had already lost three: Lady Jessica, Bareel, and Valene. Letting his sorrow pass over him, Cor was determined not to let their sacrifice be in vain: they would end this threat to the mortal races of Trilogy once and for all!

Once there was a pause, Cor finally introduced himself: " Sir Fenstrider, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. By Thor's beard, it's nice to meet a friendly face." Cor extended his armoured hand, smiling. "Perhaps you could help us find the Dragon Queen, friend. Where have you already been? No point of us going where you have already been, eh?"

On the battlefield, we are stripped to the barest meaning of ourselves. In those moments and the ones that follow, friendships are forged more quickly than in any other. Places like this, where loss is so common, a spare moment with a friendly face can feel like an endless summer. The sheen of battle still showed on the dwarf's face as he reached for Roan's hand.

"Sir Fenstrider, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. By Thor's beard, it's nice to meet a friendly face," he said, looking up at the man. Roan knew he meant it. "Perhaps you could help us find the Dragon Queen, friend. Where have you already been? No point of us going where you have already been, eh?"

Roan grasped the wrist of his new friend and replied to him in the dwarven tongue, "It seems our goals align, Lord Cor. The gods have smiled on us today." In the common tongue, he continued. "Do you have a bit of chalk? I'll diagram what I know. Anything I can do to help bring an end to all this"

The wild Ranger trailed off. The moment had passed as quickly as a zephyr. He thought of lost friends, of Kara, the Invoker, whose blonde hair was always a-tangle and who died fighting the Illithids, her magic undone by their dark art. The druid Sarella was driven to madness in the same battle. Roan had watched helpless as she ripped her hair out and ran laughing into the dark. What seemed like days had passed since he last saw Muscles Matthias, and he feared his fate had come as well. News of the Lady Tegganth had been of little surpise to him, but here, likely no soil would ever cover her broken form. Even Roan could only do so much, only raise the fallen so many times.

It was Roan the Cleric who picked up the unfinished sentence. "An end to all this suffering."

((OOC: I'm waiting to hear back from Tann about my previous explorations. Roan will use chalk or whatever he can to draw a quick map. I'm going to be camping until Monday 3/10 ))

The party emerged from the room of horrors and back into the hall they had previously traversed. Ulthok fumbled with the brooches and rings he had taken from yellow skinned creatures. Discarding the severed fingers that had not wanted to yield their prize the mage knew he currently had no time to determine their magic that might lead him to Valene.

Still holding Peri securely he wrapped and deposited the cache into him bag of holding. To his surprise there in the bags folds was a Ring of Regeneration that had not been allotted to a party member. In their current state of combat battering this was something that will keep fighters as fit as possible. Looking up the mage saw the gladiator Lothor an knew he was the one most likely now to go toe to toe and would need it's powers to renew his strength. But he also knew the man was weary of magic. So trundling up to the fighter he said, “Here, let me see your hand”, and quickly grabbed to massive appendage.

Before Lothor was aware he slipped the ring on and into place. “There, a reward for so bravely defending this group. Thank you friend and I’m sure Valene would have wanted you, of all, to have it. She always spoke of you kindly.” The Halfling released the man’s hand, “Oh and it has benefits, it will help you heal as it is a Ring of Regeneration.”

As the man looked at him suspiciously, Ulthok explained,” The ring of regeneration reduces damage and will eventually replace lost limbs or organs. It can bring its wearer back from death, if death was caused by poison, however, but you could die again from the poison still in your system. Only total destruction of all living tissue by fire or acid or similar means will prevent regeneration. Of course, the ring must be worn, and its removal stops the regeneration processes, so don’t take it off.”

The party was then distracted by a commotion from down hall, there a human fighter was defending himself from three large Orcs.

The once gentle forest loomed heavy and oppressive as darkness clung damp and seeping to the gnarled branches and drooping leaves. In that darkness crept something unseen and frightening. The evil staked ever closer, emanating pain to anything so unfortunate to be near.

Cowering in a crotch of a dyeing Oak tree Peri shivered in fear and panic. Everything and everyone she had known were gone, utterly destroyed by that that now searched for her. Her body ached, her head throbbed and despair was nearly freezing her heart. The darkness closed on her, reaching out with dripping claws, it had found her. The small fairie dragon had never felt so alone.

Curled in on herslf she trembled, eyes squized closed. The claws were closing but then she felt herself being lifted from her hiding place, a shield of strength enwrapped her . She was being wisked away, jostled as she was carried away.
The sounds of running feet started to become more clear to hear ears, the jostling stired her awareness.

Opening her eyes she saw she nestled in Ulthok’s arms again as he was slicing the finger off one of the yellow creatures. She heard the dwarv calling Ulthok to hurry, they must leave now. As they rushed out into the hall the memory of mental blast and her falling to the floor and then blacking out.

Her head cleared and her thoughts caught up to the events. She felt secure and safe being held close by the halfling but she knew she’d best flying on her own, but a few minutes more wouldn’t hurt.

With the party for the moment in a combat lull thanks to Barrel’s seeming sacrifice they faced a new stranger. However, this stranger was not a foe but a possible friend and new ally. A quick round of introductions and inquiries as to where this new Human Ranger/Cleric had found himself within this flying castle, brought only a little bit of information. Separated from the rest of his companions during the chaotic fight in the courtyard, he had entered through the main doors, as had the party. However, unlike them he had turned to the right instead of going up the stairs.

A room furnished room as if a bath area with numerous in-ground bathtubs. A second room furnished as if a church, empty as he had run through it. A third room empty but for a large wrapped mirror laying face down on the floor. Then the three Ogre Orcs were upon him and he could only flee here and the aid of the party the party. Not much for the party + one to go on.

As they once again sought to decide a new direction, the sound of Orcish grunts once more from behind them telling all but Roan that Barreels delaying action was over. The time to decide which way to go or to make a stand was now.

(DM OOC; Ok there you have it a short post to get us restarted from my Georgia break. You need to make a choice which way to go or to make a stand. Good luck and welcome to our newest player Mr. Schnozzle. Also, if anyone cast healing or drank a potion please let me know so I can adjust your HP’s. Next post next Sunday once more as norm. GAME ON)

Roan hastily scratched a diagram on the wall.

"As you can see, I've encountered little here, except those arschfotze orc-things," he said using a foreign slur. "I don't know much about this place, but I do know that we can't stand around grinning like this for long. Lead on, and my blades will be your ally."

Ulthok listened to the newcomer tell of his story of how he’d made his way to this point. There wasn’t any clear direction for their next move so thief took a little initiative.

“Here's my thought; we go forward and then down the hall on the right. That is back to Cor’s plan of trying to go deeper into the castle..... I’ll lead and check for traps and such. Next, Lothor to back me up... followed by Cor and Rayne... We keep the Sorceress in the middle, so she can cast front or rear, followed by Weaver, Foan and last Alyia.... Alyia maybe you could cast a wall of ice down the hall behind us to block the Orcs from coming through the door and following us.”

The Halfling looked to Cor for his approval as Peri fluttered up over his head. Ulthok started down the hall to the intersection. With him attentions on high he turn down the next hall once again check for possible traps and triggers… he missed Valene...... to share responsibility.

“Here's my thought; we go forward and then down the hall on the right. That is back to Cor’s plan of trying to go deeper into the castle..... I’ll lead and check for traps and such. Next, Lothor to back me up... followed by Cor and Rayne... We keep the Sorceress in the middle, so she can cast front or rear, followed by Weaver, Roan and last Alyia.... Alyia maybe you could cast a wall of ice down the hall behind us to block the Orcs from coming through the door and following us.”

“By right you mean East? I would think going to the West and using one of the doors there as a way to put a barrier between the Orcs and us would be a better choice?”

Rayne was not one to normally question a plan of action but in this case the choice between a long open corridor or going through a blockable door was better maybe then wasting a spell perhaps needed later.
In the end she of course would go with the majority and be ready for whatever the party encountered next.

Weaver knew he would be to the rear of the group. He put away his sword and made ready his bow, even if it was just a signal shot he could thread a needle if need be to lend aid to one in combat.

‘We must move, if we stand here the battle will find us soon enough and I dare say it will find us before we find that she bitch the dragon queen.’

Standing back, the enchantress watched as the others warmly introduced themselves to the newcomer. Forearms and hands were clasped and warm words were exchanged as if they were among old friends. The man had been welcomed among them at barely an introduction. Cor even debriefed the man on their plans, probably seeing the symbols of Odin he wore as reason enough to trust him. In her mind it was not. In truth, there was no reason to distrust the man and he very well could have been among the bands of heroes who stood alongside them against this dark foe. Yet in the same breath, there was no reason to trust him, they simply did not know him.

Her thoughts returned to Allanan and the time she had once trusted blindly. She had healed him from the brink of death and had been enamored by his human passions. Their flames were so brief but they burned so bright! Siréne exhaled softly. Allanan had taken up the mantle of Alasdair and initiated her into this motley group of heroes, and then he had betrayed them all. Blind trust cost too much and she would not see it take the life of another of her companions. This new warrior would have to be watched, if only to prove that he was in fact who he said he was.

Siréne let her cerulean gaze trace over the man as she stepped forward to greet him. Extending her hands outward, palms facing upward she spoke in the silvery tones of a priestess, "Well met, Roan Fenstrider. You may call me Siréne."

With introductions made, talk turned to which direction to walk. Unfortunately, they knew not where they were making any and all paths seem as likely as the next. This blind descent into the abyss worried her, and yet what choice was there? Any magics that might divine an answer would be costly and the power needed to draw upon them would likely draw their enemies. It was untenable, but with the die cast there was little to do but follow along and hold faith that the Great Goddess would see them through. So she made ready to continue on the righthand path.

"Let us go." She spoke but three words and poured into them all the weight of what must be done.