(2023-02-05) Getting A Head (S9 E3 - White Squad Log)

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	White Squad storms Utgarde Keep and gets their cardio in for the month. There is some discussion of blacksmithing, the care and feeding of proto-drakes, and the whereabouts of vrykul lady fellows.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

Arc: Season 9

Ben adjusts a gauntlet and looks between the two women. "Afternoon, both."

Ralaea nods distractedly.

Paluuva dips her head with a gentle smile. "Good afternoon."

[Ben]: We are waitin' on Ace and Len– oh, hey.

Ben grins at Ace.

[Aiseia]: How are ya?

[Ben]: Doin' okay. Y'all?

Paluuva peers warily at the spectral figure hovering nearby.

[Lena]: Hey everybody! *Lena smiles.* What're we up to today?

[Ben]: So the Vice Admiral gave me the go-ahead to get into the Keep. I thought we'd–

Ben freezes and stares at the apparition too.

Lena belatedly notices the spectral figure. "It's none of mine."

[Aiseia]: What is– oh, what are you then, little spirit?

Ralaea does not seem to have noticed it.

Ben clears his throat and continues, though he keeps an steady eye on the specter.

[Ben]: So I reckoned we should get into the Keep as a priority. Rather than, you know. The gho– the Nifflevar shit.

[Aiseia]: I think that's right. Get the blood pumping with some clobberation.

Ben smiles crookedly at Ace.

[Ben]: Yeah. Today is for clobberation.

[Lena]: But we are going to do that? Go in the spirit world again? I mean, not today, but we decided for it?

[Ben]: We been asked to. I will… see. We got to go up by Nifflevar anyway for the Guard Captain.

[Ben]: We good to clobber?

[Ralaea]: Fine with me. I'm not in a hurry to go back to that realm.

[Lena]: I am good for clobberation.

Ben glances at Rae. He looks to the others and nods.

[Ben]: Let's get goin', then.

[Aiseia]: Would anyone like some fish? I have some [Pickled Fangtooth]. Oh, or some [Shoveltusk Steak]?

[Lena]: Thanks, Ace, but I brought my own.

Ben flashes a smile at Ace. "I got my sandwiches, but I 'preciate you."

The gang cuts a swath through Wyrmskull Village, and passes beneath the (skull-adorned) archway to Utgarde Keep.

[Ben]: Okay. We good to see what's up in here?

[Lena]: Yeah. Lu, I'll keep your soul anchored, right?

[Lena]: Just in case.

Paluuva nods to Lena. "Thank you, Lena."

Aiseia lets everyone know that she is ready!

[Ben]: Let's go.

[Ben]: We are after weapons and that Ingvar fellow.

[Lena]: Looks a lot like the catacombs, 'cept no val'kyr.

Ben nods.

[Lena]: Guess they keep their dead as comfy as their living.

[Ben]: Well. Seems like they plan to use the dead again, so.

[Ralaea]: I know they're tall, but they seem to build… taller. *She glances upward.*

[Ben]: You reckon they was bigger once? Or maybe it's just like– uh. Dwarves.

Ben glances at Ace.

[Ralaea]: If this is them smaller, I would hate to see them full-size.

[Ralaea]: More skulls, too.

The squad makes their way through the first, short corridor. The foyer, if you will. They slay the foyer vrykul, who do not offer to take their coats. Ahead of them is a blazing heat and uneven, ruddy light.

They reach the end of the foyer and find themselves facing a towering furnace. Like, I cannot overstate the massiveness of this furnace.

Also it is designed to look like gigantic, flame-spewing skulls. Leanin’ hard into the Skulls aesthetic.

[Lena]: Holy sh– that furnace does not look safe.

[Ben]: DAMN.

[Ben]: What're they forgin' in that thing?

[Lena]: …weapons maybe? Like the sort we're after?

[Ben]: … yeah. And I reckon these are them.

Ben inspects the weapon racks ahead.

[Ralaea]: They're… huge.

[Ben]: Uh. Maybe we grab these on the way out. Rather than… luggin' 'em.

Ben surveys the massive weapons.

The weapons are larger than Ben. The weapons are larger than Paluuva. The weapons are larger than a combination Ben + Paluuva.

[Aiseia]: Pretty sure I can't lift that.

[Lena]: Yeah, or we can get a cart.

[Ben]: Yeah.

[Paluuva]: That seems reasonable.

[Lena]: This is one big anvil.

Lena jumps, but she can't reach the top.

A new problem presents itself: the forge is arranged in such a way that the skull-mouths spew flame clean across the room in great fiery sheets. This seems like a highly inefficient use of fuel and pretty ill-considered temperature control for a forge. Also it makes passing through the room tough.

[Ben]: How the fuck are we s'posed to get through– ah.

Ben points at a Dragonflayer Forge Master.

[Ben]: Reckon we get rid of the fellow on the bellows, the flames die out.

[Lena]: Prob’ly. How a forge normally works.

Ben glances at Lena wryly. "You explainin' to me? Sorry, Miss Coit."

Dragonflayer Metalworker goes into a frenzy!

[Paluuva]: It worked!

[Ben]: Yeah, okay. Clear on this side, anyhow.

[Lena]: Must be another fellow.

[Paluuva]: My hooves burn just walking over that!

[Ben]: You all right, ma'am?

Lena wipes sweat off her forehead with one hand.

[Paluuva]: Oh yes, I am fine.

Ben nods.

Paluuva smiles sweetly at Ben. "Thank you for the concern."

[Lena]: I feel like a mouse in a house.

Ralaea 's expression is grim, but she doesn't complain.

They dispatch two more forge masters, and the flames immediately die out. See? Inefficient.

[Ben]: Everyone good?

[Lena]: We shut it down. That's good, right?

Ben nods at Lena.

[Ben]: This the only hall out? Well. Least they make it simple.

They follow the extremely linear place and approach a vast room, refreshingly skull-free.

[Ben]: … oh shit. They got them red… dragon-things in here.

[Ralaea]: They have… hay in here? For some reason.

[Ben]: … I did not know dragons went in for hay.

[Ben]: Seems kind of… flammable.

[Lena]: Guess the walls are stone.

[Ralaea]: Expensive to keep it here, if the dragons just burn it up.

[Paluuva]: Proto-drakes, has become the preferred nomenclature.

[Lena]: They're not dragons?

[Ben]: Proto-drakes? That Gnomish?

Ben looks puzzled.

[Lena]: What's a proto?

[Paluuva]: 'Proto' means…'original'.

[Paluuva]: Or something that came before.

Ben looks impressed. He nods at Paluuva. "Original."

[Lena]: So… they're before-dragons?

[Paluuva]: I believe that is the theory.

[Ben]: They don't seem as… smart as real dragons.

[Ralaea]: So dragons started with those tiny arms?

[Ralaea]: They don't seem that useful, those arms.

Ralaea wrinkles her nose. "They just… hang there."

[Ben]: I mean I guess they ain't openin' jars or anything.

[Lena]: Is this like… a stable?

[Lena]: It took me a while to see, it's so big.

[Aiseia]: I think so.

[Paluuva]: It would seem so.

[Ben]: A dragon stable. Proto-dragon stable.

In one of the baffling hay-piles, Rae finds a vrykul skeleton, medium-well.

[Ralaea]: They feed the dragons their own kind? Or was this one just unlucky?

[Ben]: … oh. Huh.

[Lena]: I bet they make mistakes here and there.

[Lena]: A mean horse takes a nip or a kick at you, but a mean proto-drake…

[Aiseia]: Sky looks nice up there.

Ben peers up. "Oh, damn!"

[Ben]: I ain't even notice that before. You're right, Ace.

[Ben]: Must fly 'em right out of here.

[Lena]: Whoa, look at those clouds.

[Ben]: Guess it makes more sense than tryin' to fit 'em through the doors.

Lena nods again. "Easy for in and out."

[Ralaea]: Not that they couldn't fit through the doors… big enough, and all.

[Paluuva]: Such a pity they are controlled by our enemies. They are quite magnificent creatures.

[Lena]: Tryin' to imagine 'em like horses.

[Ben]: On the whole I think I prefer horses.

[Ben]: What would a proto-horse look like, you reckon?

[Ralaea]: Better than these things.

Ben eyes a Dragonflayer Strategist up and down.

[Ben]: You seen any lady ones of these fellows? Apart from — in the vision?

[Ralaea]: Not yet. At least not in here.

Lena shakes her head. "Maybe they keep them indoors or something. Or just, away from battle."

Ben grimaces.

[Lena]: They must exist, right?

[Lena]: Because… the vision… though that was thousands of years ago?

[Ben]: I mean if my understandin' of biology is correct, yeah.

[Ben]: Got to be lady ones.

[Paluuva]: I have a theory…

Ralaea adjusts her goggles to get a closer look at the figure at the end of the table. "That's not a vrykul."

Aiseia sniffs. "Undead."

[Paluuva]: Hm?

Ben peers in the direction Rae is looking.

Lena peers ahead.

Aiseia points at Prince Keleseth.

[Lena]: Who's that? He's so little.

[Ben]: Shit, yeah. An elf. Undead elf?

[Aiseia]: He makes my hair stand on end.

[Lena]: I take it that means evil?

[Paluuva]: An undead…elf?

Ben shudders.

[Paluuva]: He seems…powerful. I doubt I am strong enough to shackle him.

Ben nods at Paluuva.

[Ben]: There is somethin'… real wrong with that fellow.

[Lena]: Demon? Scourge?

[Aiseia]: We know when undead or demons are near. Like an itch.

Lena nods at Ace. "Sorry if I'm throwing your detector off."

[Aiseia]: Oh no, wee demon doggie's no trouble. Like just a buzz.

The undead elf is pacing around a large circle on the floor; there are several vrykul standing around it with him.

[Lena]: Want I should charm one of those fellows? *Lena blinks and adds,* With a sayaad, I mean.

[Ben]: I think we are okay with the… wee demon doggie.

Lena grins at the paladins.

[Ralaea]: Well. We know who they're working with…

Ralaea shrugs. "Time to pay them back."

Aiseia agrees with Ralaea.

[Ben]: Let's see how much he likes his friends, here.

The undead elf does not care much for his friends, who are rounded up and dispatched by the squad. How do you say ‘Todd’ in Thalassian?

[Ralaea]: Bombs…

[Ben]: Shit. Those weren't you?

[Ralaea]: I wouldn't throw bombs at us.

[Ben]: … right.

[Ben]: Sorry. I just saw the flash go.

[Ben]: Well. Let's see how the unfriendly fellow likes us. We good?

[Paluuva]: He is just…waiting for us. It's unsettling.

Ben nods at Paluuva grimly, still watching Prince Keleseth.

Lena nods, frowning at the undead elf.

‘Keleseth’ is apparently the Thalassian for ‘Todd’.

Prince Keleseth yells: Your blood is mine!

Vrykul Skeleton rises from the floor!

Prince Keleseth yells: Aranal, ledel! Their fate shall be yours!

Vrykul Skeleton rises from the floor!

Prince Keleseth yells: Not so fast.

Prince Keleseth yells: I join… the night.

[Ben]: What the hell was he?

Ben crouches down by the corpse.

[Aiseia]: In need of killing.

Ben glances up at Ace and grins.

[Ralaea]: Ice… *She glares at something. Nothing specific.*

[Aiseia]: But Scourge, maybe?

[Ben]: Well, yeah, but — *He looks over at Rae.*

[Lena]: 'Your blood is mine.' Probably not literal?

[Lena]: Or do you think, for some ritual…

[Ralaea]: He did have those skeletons… they didn't have blood.

[Aiseia]: Undead bloodsucking elves. I bet someone writes books where they're all broody and girls want to change them or something.

Aiseia glares angrily at Prince Keleseth.

Ben gives Ace a deeply baffled look.

Paluuva examines the map on the floor.

[Lena]: This is a war room, isn't it?

[Paluuva]: I believe it is.

[Lena]: We're just here…

[Paluuva]: Ben, Ralaea, Ace, what do you make of these battle plans?

Unscholarly heathens stand on map.

[Aiseia]: That tower. Is that where we are now?

[Ralaea]: This is a… what. Waterfall here?

[Paluuva]: It is hard to say. We do not have a full understanding of Northrend's geography yet.

[Lena]: That's either far north or far south, where all the 'people' are.

Ben paces around the giant map, studying it. He stops and turns his head the other way, considering, then steps onto it.

[Ben]: Yeah, okay, this is–

Ben puts his hand on the wooden tower. "This is Valgarde." He points at the structure to its left.

[Ben]: That's this keep.

[Ben]: Boat here's in the fjord. Which means the rest of it…

Ben walks another slow circuit, studying it again.

[Paluuva]: Yes, I think you are right. This is the Howling Fjord and the region around it.

[Lena]: Far north, then. Lot of troops there.

[Ben]: Don't know who those fellows are. Unless they got gingerbread fellows to the north of us.

[Aiseia]: So what's that tower there to the west?

[Ben]: That one, that might be ours again? Satterly said the Legion was settin' up this way.

[Ben]: Seventh Legion, I mean. Not… the other one.

[Lena]: Right, the good Legion.

[Aiseia]: I wondered.

[Aiseia]: So what's this then?

Ralaea examines the spikey looking piece in the east. "What even is this thing?"

[Ben]: Dunno.

Ben studies it, then the rest of the map.

[Ben]: Don't look like any of the other pieces.

[Ralaea]: Looks like a…weirdly shaped rock?

[Lena]: Guess we keep an eye out for spiky boulders?

[Ben]: Wait, hold up.

Ben frowns at it.

[Ben]: No, look from this angle. Look like… them tauren pillars to anyone else?

[Ben]: Satterly said the Horde's settin' up here, too.

[Lena]: Oh! So maybe it's the Horde place!

Ben nods at Lena.

[Ralaea]: I'm not… experienced with Tauren.

[Aiseia]: Yeah, or me.

[Lena]: So Towers is us and the Argent Crusade. Spikies is Horde.

[Ben]: I mean I would figure.

[Aiseia]: I bet they get tired of beef jokes.

Ben eyes Ace again, with the twitch of a smile.

[Ralaea]: Also looks like a poor attempt at the Lich King's helmet.

Ralaea shrugs.

[Aiseia]: Can anyone draw, a bit? Maybe we should do a sketch.

[Paluuva]: Allow me.

Paluuva takes out her journal.

Paluuva begins to sketch out the entire map, with the structures.

Paluuva's sketch, sans unscholarly heathens.

[Aiseia]: And this one in the middle, looking like a bird?

[Ben]: The bird's where we are now. This place.

[Lena]: I thought it was a dragon.

[Ben]: Reckon it's meant to be a dragon head, just– yeah.

[Lena]: Or a proto-dragon, I reckon.

[Aiseia]: That makes sense.

Ralaea grumbles, "Do they have to be so bad at this?"

Ben glances at Rae and grins.

[Lena]: We could get a lot more if they were better at carving. *Lena giggles*

[Ben]: Well, someone leave 'em a note, let 'em know.

[Aiseia]: A critique! Do better carving. Also, knock it off with the evil.

Ben nods solemnly at Ace.

Ralaea kicks over one of the pieces before glancing down the unexplored hall. "We've got what we're going to get from here. Let's move on."

[Ben]: You got it, ma'am? *He waits for Paluuva to finish sketching.*

[Paluuva]: Just about. If you would please step off of the map I can get the finishing touches.

Ben steps obediently off the map.

[Ralaea]: It reeks of death in here.

Ben nods at Rae without looking. "More undead. Can feel 'em."

[Ben]: Place is swarmin', ahead.

Paluuva closes the journal and tucks it into her pack. "There, that should suffice."

Ben nods at Paluuva.

They leave the map and head for the next corridor.

[Lena]: Oh gosh, yes, I can see them. Ghouls.

[Lena]: Ugh, now that fellow got the short stick in duties. Can you imagine, watchin' over ghouls all the time? The smell alone.

[Ben]: I don't know these fellows are real sensitive.

[Lena]: Also, we're about to kill him, which is another bad point…

[Ralaea]: I wanna know why these guys are still alive. They are alive, aren't they?

[Ben]: The giant ones? Yeah.

[Lena]: An' they got souls and life and all.

[Ben]: Oh SHIT.

[Ben]: .. y'all see those?

[Ben]: The little leapers? I ain't seen them since —

Ben shudders again.

[Ralaea]: …Light's Hope?

[Ben]: Yeah.

[Lena]: Oh, off in the distance?

[Ben]: Yeah. Watch those ones. They are fast as hell.

[Lena]: Reckon we got Death Knights or some such up ahead?

[Ben]: Gonna find out.

[Ralaea]: If there's a Death Knight, it's mine.

Lena nods at Rae. "I'll have your back, but won't fight you for the kill. If there is one."

[Ben]: … place is fucken HUGE.

[Ralaea]: They like their hallways.

The squad is, by the way, smashing ghouls and geists (and their vrykul overseers) as they go.

[Ben]: I will never get over how them things just break apart. Long as I been fightin' 'em.

[Ralaea]: Isn't much holding them together to begin with.

[Ben]: They fight like hell in spite of it. But yeah. When they go down, it's just —

[Lena]: They got some kind of mind, though. To be able to do stuff.

[Ben]: Heads up, up here. Can't see what's up top yet.

Lena peeks around the corner. "They're… drinking?"

[Ben]: Must be on a break. *His tone is sardonic.*

[Ralaea]: There's not even a table.

[Lena]: You'd think they could spring for that, at least.

[Ralaea]: Or chairs? Or a rug?

Ace interrupts a Dragonflayer Strategist's [Ticking Bomb]!

[Ben]: Nice catch, Ace.

Some of the vrykul in here are able to cast a glimmering shield-bubble, akin to a paladin’s, and make themselves temporarily immune to damage.

[Ben]: I do not love that bubble thing.

[Lena]: It looked like Light. It was not one of yours?

[Ben]: Don't know what it was. Ain't feel like Light.

[Ralaea]: Can the dog thing eat those? The bubbles.

[Ralaea]: They're magic, right?

[Lena]: I can try and get him to, yeah.

[Lena]: Sorry, I wasn't thinkin', just thought it was a paladin-like thing.

[Ben]: Incomin'!

Dragonflayer Strategist says: Haraak foln!

[Ben]: Nice, all.

[Ben]: Stayin' on your toes.

[Lena]: Yep, it can eat 'em right up.

Ben nods at Lena. "Good. Thanks."

Ralaea nods at the felhound.

[Ben]: More.

At the top of the next flight of stairs, they find two giant stew pots and a bizarre assortment of tables, most of them stained or singed and smashed.

[Ben]: Oh, here's where the tables went.

[Ben]: They are not good at carin' for furniture.

Ralaea points to the broken one. "Seems they don't know how to use them, yeah."

[Paluuva]: Their stew smells surprisingly tasty.

[Ralaea]: I wouldn't eat it.

They do sit down to eat their own snacks (and sandwiches). If the vrykul get snack breaks, so does White Squad.

[Ben]: Ma'am, you said before you had a theory? About the lady ones?

Ben peers at Paluuva.

[Paluuva]: Ahh, yes. About the vrykul in general, but I believe it may relate to why we are not seeing the women.

[Ben]: What's that?

[Paluuva]: Several times I have heard the vrykul shouting about 'awakening'. At first, I thought it was a metaphorical reference. Such as a kind of enlightenment.

Ben nods. Metaphors are everywhere.

Ralaea clearly hadn't been paying attention to vrykul nonsense.

[Paluuva]: But perhaps it is more literal. After our visit to the spirit world and the realization that they existed so long ago, it occured to me that their survival over that great period, and absence in between, could have an explanation… if they are literally 'awakening' now.

Ben raises his eyebrows.

[Lena]: So what, the women are asleep?

Paluuva nods. "Perhaps it is only the males awakening first."

[Ben]: … huh.

[Lena]: Oh… so they'd been stored away? By… the Lich King or something…

[Ralaea]: Who sleeps for that long? And was the Lich King even around then?

[Lena]: Hm, yeah, Arthas's only been up here a few years.

[Lena]: They must be a weird kinda thing if they can do that. *Lena nods at Rae.* Don't think it'd work for one of us.

[Paluuva]: If I am right, their sleep would have predated the Lich King. But perhaps he is the one
that awakened them.

[Paluuva]: It would explain their devotion to him.

[Ben]: That makes sense. Ma'am.

[Ben]: You mention this to the shaman? Or the Explorers?

[Paluuva]: I have not brought it up to the shaman or the Explorers yet. I felt it prudent to bring it to Cobalt Company first.

Ben nods at Paluuva.

[Ben]: I will raise it with the — *Ben hesitates.* I will raise it with the Captains when we are in touch with them.

[Ben]: The Captain. I guess. And Lieutenant Ference.

[Lena]: But then brings the question who put 'em in storage.

[Ben]: Yeah, it does. An' why? Why would you put a whole bunch of… whole race of people asleep for ten thousand or whatever years?

[Paluuva]: My guess? Survival.

[Ralaea]: Seems to me they could've accomplished a lot more awake. Like learning to carve better.

Lena giggles at Ralaea.

[Ralaea]: Or how tables work.

Ben grins at Rae.

[Ben]: Maybe they are waitin' on a giant-sized coffee.

[Lena]: Can you imagine? Waked after 10,000 years and no coffee.

[Ben]: I would sure as hell be a little surly.

[Ben]: Might set some fires myself.

Paluuva smirks.

[Ralaea]: So, wait. Did the elves know about them?

[Lena]: Did anybody ask one?

[Paluuva]: That is a good question.

[Ben]: Who we got here we can ask? Roriandris, Velrin — someone should ask Velrin, I reckon. One of her people could know. She ain't all that old for a kaldorei, but.

[Ben]: She got a whole team with her.

[Lena]: Velrin, yeah, with all those Sentinels.

[Ralaea]: …Velrin? That sounds… familiar… *She frowns.*

[Ben]: Silverbloom? You know her?

[Lena]: She was on squad just before I was.

[Ben]: Come to Bruuk's a couple've times.

[Ralaea]: She's… here? In Cobalt? Maybe… I could be mistaken.

Ben eyes Rae askance. "What?"

[Ralaea]: It's probably nothing.

[Ben]: … okay. Well, if it ain't nothin', lemme know sometime.

[Lena]: But you know a Velrin? *Lena looks at her curiously.* She was with Cobalt recent, helping in Shadowmoon Valley.

[Ralaea]: Like I said, I could be wrong. We weren't… friends. I could be… misremembering.

Ralaea falls into an unsettled silence.

Ben studies Rae a moment. He nods and looks at the two figures at the other end of the hall again.

[Lena]: Looks like a mage of some sort and a fighter.

[Ralaea]: I'll kill the mage. Can I kill the mage? Please.

[Lena]: I'll hobble him, make him speak demonic.

[Ralaea]: Because that's not horrifying.

[Lena]: It's helpful, *Lena insists.* You ever tried to spellcast when you're suddenly speaking a language you don't know? It'll slow him down.

[Ralaea]: No. I have never tried to spellcast.

[Ben]: It maybe sounds friendlier if you say you will curse him with… I dunno, Thalassian or somethin'.

[Lena]: But I don't know Thalassian. *Lena shrugs a little.* Well, I guess you'll just have to trust me.

Skarvald the Constructor yells: Dalronn! See if you can muster the nerve to join my attack!

Dalronn the Controller yells: By all means, don't assess the situation, you halfwit! Just jump into the fray!

Skarvald the Constructor yells: Not… over… yet.

Totally is, bro.

Dalronn the Controller yells: There's no… greater… glory.

Lena sighs. "Didn't work anyway. He just shrugged it right off."

[Ben]: Well. He ain't shrug anything else off, so.

[Ben]: Don't reckon we found Ingvar yet, though.

[Lena]: Dalronn and Skarvald. They just yelled it right out. Not very subtle.

[Ralaea]: One was a necromancer…

White Squad continues their hunt for Ingvar the Plunderer. A lot of twisty staircases are involved in the hunt for Ingvar the Plunderer. Ingvar the Stairmaster, more like.

[Lena]: Feels like we're goin' in circles. Only I don't think we are.

[Aiseia]: Spiral, maybe.

[Ben]: This place is all fucken stairs. It's like mages who ain't learned to do ramps yet.

Paluuva chuckles.

[Ralaea]: How many you think it took to put those banners up?

[Lena]: Maybe three standin' on shoulders.

There is a balcony at the end of this hallway. It overlooks, anticlimactically, one of the stony tunnels below.

[Lena]: Not much of a view.

[Ben]: This is the most not-scenic balcony I ever met.

[Ralaea]: This is a silly place to have one, yeah.

[Paluuva]: Have you met many nice balconies?

Ben peers around the corner. He ducks back quickly, wide-eyed.

[Ben]: Y'all. I think there's a lady one.

[Lena]: A lady?!

[Ralaea]: Oh?

[Paluuva]: Oh, interesting.

[Ben]: She has got — uh. Well. She is a lady, pretty sure.

Lena peeks around. "Oh yes, definitely lady-shaped."

[Ralaea]: We're killing it right?

[Ralaea]: …right?

[Paluuva]: Do you think… she would speak to us?

[Ben]: Uh. If you want to try?

Ralaea sighs.

[Ben]: Hey. Ma'am? Ma'am?

Dragonflayer Spiritualist says: I will take pleasure in gutting you!

So that seems like a pretty hard no. Although I guess technically it counts as ‘speaking to us.’

[Paluuva]: Well…damn.

Lena looks at Rae. "Yep, we're killing her."

[Ralaea]: Hmph. Spell caster.

[Ben]: Maybe she was touchy about bein' called ma'am.

[Lena]: Yeah, puts some people off.

[Paluuva]: Interesting. She wears trappings typical of some kind of spiritualist.

[Ben]: We're comin' up on a rampart or somethin'.

[Ralaea]: Air. Finally.

Air and also more vrykul.

[Ben]: Ow. Cracked me a good one there.

Ben grimaces and tips his head from side to side.

That’s fine, it’s only like his 317th concussion.

[Lena]: Now this one's got a view.

[Ben]: Oh, shit, yeah.

The gang gathers at the parapet to Tourist for a moment.

[Paluuva]: Oh my, how beautiful.

[Ralaea]: What are those tents down there?

Ben squints.

[Ben]: I could not say. About the tents.

[Paluuva]: Curious.

[Lena]: They don't look like the vrykul places we've seen. But then, they're squatting in ruins.

[Paluuva]: There is so much to explore here.

Ben nods at Paluuva.

[Ralaea]: They've got a lot of waterfalls…

[Aiseia]: Look at that! it's like this whole circle of land was just carved out!

[Ben]: F-jord.

[Lena]: Carved by water, right?

Ben nods at Lena.

[Aiseia]: Huh! Never seen that.

[Ben]: I reckon in Dun Morogh there ain't a lot carved by water. Y'all's water freezes, right?

Ben grins at Ace.

[Ben]: Heads up. We got one landin'.

[Ralaea]: Looks like we've been seen.

A Dragonflayer mounted on a proto-drake lands in front of them. This is only temporarily inconvenient.

[Lena]: Another lady ahead.

[Ben]: Well so it is. A lady fellow.

Dragonflayer Spiritualist says: You come to die!

Apparently it isn’t just being called ‘ma’am’ they don’t like.

[Lena]: Guy with a big cape, down at the end of the hallway.

[Ben]: Big cape, huh?

Ben eyes Ingvar the Plunderer up and down.

The Big Cape Guy is standing on a round terrace at the end of the rampart, addressing two proto-drake riders who are kind of hovering midair before him.

[Ralaea]: What a… place to stand. I guess so he can talk to his dragon guys.

[Ben]: Looks like he is the boss of them two. So, yeah. Guessin' that's the boss.

[Ralaea]: Think we'll have surprise reinforcements?

[Paluuva]: I would watch out for dragon riders.

[Ben]: Y'all ready to see what he's got?

Lena nods, grimly prepared.

Aiseia lets everyone know that she is ready!

Ben yells, “Hey! Ingvar!”

Ingvar the Plunderer yells: I'll paint my face with your blood!

No.

Ingvar the Plunderer yells: My life for the… death god!

[Lena]: Why's he glowing?

[Ben]: Got hi– wait, what?

[Paluuva]: Oh no.

A val’kyr descends over the corpse of Ingvar the Plunderer, which is now lit by a shaft of otherworldly light.

[Lena]: It's a val'kyr!!

Ben stares at Annhylde the Caller.

Annhylde the Caller yells: Ingvar! Your pathetic failure will serve as a warning to all… you are damned! Arise and carry out the master's will!

Ralaea whispers, "They talk."

Ingvar arises, slightly less daisy-fresh than Original Ingvar. By which I mean he’s undead. Big ol’ vrykul ghoul. Vryghoul.

Ingvar the Plunderer yells: I return! A second chance to carve your skull!

Second time still not the charm.

Ingvar the Plunderer yells: No! I can do… better! I can…

[Lena]: No light this time.

[Lena]: Guess he just gets two tries?

[Ben]: … fucken hope so.

Ben stares around a little wild-eyed.

[Ralaea]: That thing revived… well… not quite revived him?

[Lena]: I guess those val'kyr things are what's making the undead then?

[Ralaea]: That's why they were all over the catacombs?

[Paluuva]: It seems so.

Lena peers at Ingvar's grey corpse.

[Ben]: I am just gonna make sure of him. F' y'all don't mind.

[Paluuva]: Please do, Ben.

Paluuva stands back.

Ben draws his sword and cuts off Ingvar's head. He holds it up grimly.

[Ralaea]: Can we burn him, too? Are heads required to start moving again?

[Ben]: Go on and burn him too, sure.

Lena moves over and sets him on fire.

[Ben]: He fought us twice, he can be twice as dead.

[Lena]: Seems fair.

Rae has moved back to the parapet to study the vrykul buildings dotting the fjord cliffs.

[Ralaea]: They have… a pretty large set-up here.

[Ralaea]: If these are all occupied…

[Lena]: They were old buildings, right? Might not all be occupied.

[Ben]: You reckon one of those is Nifflevar?

[Lena]: Could be?

[Ralaea]: They'll all be Snifflevar when I'm through.

Lena giggles.

Ben snorts a laugh at Rae again.

[Paluuva]: I believe we are looking at Nifflevar.

Ben steps over beside Paluuva and considers the buildings she's looking at. He nods.

[Lena]: Guess that's the next step.

Ben points over yonder.

[Ben]: There. The harpoon guns.

[Ben]: On that bluff.

[Ralaea]: They're… big. I guess that's not a surprise.

[Ben]: Got 'em pointed right at Valgarde.

[Aiseia]: And pointed right at Valgarde.

[Ralaea]: Which is there.

[Lena]: Yep.

[Aiseia]: Jinx.

Ben grins at Aiseia.

[Lena]: Guess we better report back?

Paluuva nods.

[Ben]: Let's head down and see about haulin' some of those weapons if we can, or sendin' up a cart for 'em. And give… this to the Vice Admiral. *Ben considers the grisly souvenir he's holding.* I do not want to carry this thing long. It is… drippin' on me.

[Aiseia]: Yeah. Let's get that head delivered fast.

[Lena]: Yuck.

[Ralaea]: Wash after.

[Ben]: Well obviously I am gonna wash after anyhow, damn, Rae.

Ralaea shrugs.

[Aiseia]: Oh hey, what's this?

[Ben]: … a hole?

[Paluuva]: Oh my.

[Lena]: Water at the bottom.

Aiseia peers over the edge.

[Lena]: Might be a way out?

[Ben]: Who likes a dive — whoa!

Ben flails a little as he is lifted off his feet, before balancing.

Paluuva has cast Levitate on the whole group.

[Aiseia]: Or we could float! Thanks!

[Ben]: Hah.

[Ralaea]: Oh, good. I was not looking forward to more stairs.

Lena drifts down peacefully.

[Aiseia]: Handy!

[Ben]: Right? Nice.

[Ben]: Thank you, ma'am.

Paluuva was happy to help.

Ace continues to float in the corridor below.

[Aiseia]: Also, I'm tall right now.

Ben grins at Aiseia.

[Ben]: Hold up.

[Ben]: This way, I reckon.

[Aiseia]: Oh, look at you!

That’s right, look at Mr. Map with the navigation skillz.

Ben nods to Defender Mordun. "Sir."

[Ralaea]: I'd have figured this guy would've headed back by now. And he still hasn't put a shirt on.

Defender Mordun says: Ach, yer back. Ye pinch a load a' them vrykul axes?

[Ben]: We did not yet, on account of they are fucken huge.

We did, actually, but the IC prospect seemed beyond absurd. The weapons are… gargantuan.

[Ben]: But we cleared the place out good and we will get back here with a cart for 'em.

[Lena]: You'll see what we mean, when you see them.

Defender Mordun eyes the Tall Folk skeptically. "Hn. Well. All right, then. Ye get back here sharpish, aye?"

[Paluuva]: Do not worry. It will be done.

[Ben]: Yessir. Just gonna bring, uh, this to the Vice Admiral.

Ben shows Defender Mordun the head. It is still dripping kind of grossly.

Defender Mordun 's eyes widen. "Ach. Well. Ye do that, then."

Ralaea wrinkles her nose and distances herself from the head.

The gang collects their mounts and rides back to Valgarde.

I am assuming here is where they efficiently arrange for some sort of follow-up patrol and cart transport to collect weapons from the Keep. Totally.

Ben salutes Vice Admiral Keller with respect.

Paluuva salutes Vice Admiral Keller with respect.

Lena salutes Vice Admiral Keller with respect.

Vice Admiral Keller says: Ah, good to see you're well, Cobalt Company. We've had about as many casualties as we can handle.

[Ben]: We, uh. Brung you another one.

Ben hoists the giant head. It's still gross.

Vice Admiral Keller says: Outstanding! This could be the turn of luck we've all been hoping for.

[Ben]: Yessir. Hope so, sir.

Vice Admiral Keller nods approvingly. "Well done, Cobalt. Many thanks."

[Paluuva]: It is our duty and honor, sir.

[Ben]: Yessir.

Ben tries to pass the head over. Vice Admiral Keller casually puts his hands behind his back.

[Ben]: I will… just set it here, then.

Ben sets the head carefully on a crate.

[Ralaea]: I still vote we burn it.

[Lena]: Not gonna get far without a body, is he?

[Ben]: I do want to point out that he got resurrected one time while we were fightin' him. You might — want to go ahead and burn it in case. As the lady says.

Vice Admiral Keller eyes the head and then the group. He nods slowly. "I will take it under advisement."

[Ralaea]: Wouldn't put it past the Lich King to summon a floating, biting, head spectre.

[Aiseia]: Oh, right! It might get chatty.

[Ralaea]: Or spy on us.

Paluuva arches an eyebrow at Rae, then nods solemnly.

Vice Admiral Keller starts to look unsettled.

[Ben]: Anyhow. Sir.

Vice Admiral Keller says: Er. Cobalt.

Ben salutes Vice Admiral Keller with respect.

Vice Admiral Keller nods, and looks a little relieved to see them leave.

Ralaea eyes a Valgarde Cannoneer up and down.

[Ben]: … that fellow makin' eyes at someone?

Ben peers at the Valgarde Cannoneer searchingly.

[Ralaea]: He was too close.

[Ben]: Hn. Well.

Lena shrugs. It happens.

He was totally making eyes at Lena.

[Ben]: Anyhow. That was a hell of a job today, y'all.

[Ben]: We have took a lot of pressure off this place, I reckon.

Lena smiles at Ben. "And next up is Snifflevar?"

Ben nods at Lena.

Aiseia laughs, delighted.

[Ben]: We will see about those harpoon guns, and once we got them secured down here, where we're needed at next.

[Ralaea]: And no more deaths to the Lich King is a nice bonus… *She glances to the west.*

Lena nods at Rae, her smile slipping a little.

[Ben]: … that is correct, yes.

[Ben]: Anyhow. Y'all are dismissed. Go and rest up, get a hot meal, whatever. Earned the hell out of it.

[Paluuva]: You as well, Ben. Get some rest.

[Ben]: Yes'm. Will do.

[Ralaea]: I'm going out again. Back after dark, probably. If anyone needs anything.

[Paluuva]: Be careful, Rae.

[Ben]: Rae. You be careful out there.

Ralaea waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!

Ben watches her go. He sighs.

[Lena]: Hope she doesn't get herself hurt. *Lena looks after her.*

[Ben]: That girl.

Ben shakes his head wearily.

[Ben]: I am gonna get a bath an' then some food in me. I will make sure she turns up later.

[Lena]: I'll probably be in the inn, or around Valgarde, if you need me.

Lena waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!

[Ben]: Evenin', all.

[Paluuva]: I will be at the inn if anyone needs me.