(2023-11-19) They Won't Have Anywhere to Run (S12 E2 - White Squad Log)

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	White Squad assists the goblins of K3 in an assault on Garm, and then gets fired. Literally fired, on rockets, farther into the mountains.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Season 12

Iphindra 's hair is still full of plants. It would probably need combing too.
[Brannagen]: Oh aye, re-readin' some favorite books.
Brannagen salutes Ben with respect.
[Atley]: Well 'nuff. The winter in Eastvale hardly compares to this.
[Iphindra]: L- lo, Lieutenant Ben!
[Brannagen]: Lo there, Ben ser.
Atley gestures around. He gives Ben a sharp salute.
Iphindra salutes Ben with respect.
[Erixa]: Ah, books! *Erixa's hair, since we're discussing it, is in tidy pigtails.*
[Erixa]: Ben, hello!
Ben moseys his gryphon over to the group. He nods. Today he is wearing a striped scarf wrapped in many, many loops around his neck and lower face, tangled festively in the spikes of his pauldrons.
Atley 's hair resembles a mane more than it does actual hair.
[Ben]: 'Lo, all. *He is a little muffled by the scarf.*
Atley grunts at Ben. "How's the day, then?"
[Brannagen]: I like yer new beard there, ser.
Brannagen points to the scarf.
[Ben]: Doin' good, yourself? *Ben tugs the scarf down from his chin to answer Dane, and flashes a chip-toothed grin at Bran.*
[Brannagen]: Handsome stripey beard.
Atley nods. "As well as can be expected."
[Ben]: Thanks, I knit it myself.
Erixa laughs.
[Erixa]: Not out of your own hair, I hope? Yarn beard?
Brannagen looks down at his own beard, as though contemplating the idea of knitting it.
[Ben]: Speakin' of sh*t I knit myself…
Ben rummages in a saddlebag. He glances at Erixa with a smile. "My hair ain't come in blue an' white."
Erixa shrugs with a smile. "Who can say what varieties humans might come in?"
Iphindra touches her own uncovered neck. Should she be wearing a scarf or a beard?
Ben offers Dane a little parcel. "For the baby, sir."
Atley doubletakes the parcel with a frown and steps forward to gingerly receive it. "Mm… Should I open it here, or at home with Ivri?"
[Ben]: Prob'ly with Ivri? I mean, it ain't urgent or nothin'. Just a baby present.
Atley fosters a small, hard smile and inclines his head. "Somming' to keep him warm, perhaps."
Ben grins at Dane. "I spoiled it by sayin' I knit it, huh?"
[Iphindra]: It- It could be a fake animals, yes? One of the furry ones!
Atley sets his jaw fondly. "Thank you, Ben. You'll be a fine uncle to him, I'm certain of it. He needs all the warmth he can get this season."
Atley carefully tucks the parcel into his bag.
Ben 's ears redden, presumably not from the cold. He ducks his head at Dane in a nod, and then tugs the scarf up over his nose and mouth again.
[Atley]: Hullo' then, Cressidha.
Erixa waves at Cressidha.
[Cressidha]: Good afternoon, everyone.
[Iphindra]: Lo, Cressidha!
Iphindra salutes Cressidha with respect.
[Cressidha]: Would anyone care for water?
[Iphindra]: Yes, please!
[Brannagen]: I wouldn't say no to water.
Erixa nods at Cressidha. "Yes, if you have to spare."
[Cressidha]: Of course.
Cressidha passes it out.
Iphindra thanks Cressidha.
[Brannagen]: Thanks, lass.
Erixa thanks Cressidha.
[Atley]: Velrin was called to deal with some cultist duty, but I've heard word she'll be joining us afterall.
Cressidha smiles.
Erixa nods. "Glad we will not lack."
Brannagen dismounts and looks the members of his squad over carefully, as though to make sure no one has bumps or bruises - or maybe just trying to remember who they all are.
[Brannagen]: Definitely seein' some different faces from last time…
Atley finds a safe, secure place in his pack for the parcel after some adjusting before he glaces around. He briefly steeples his hands together and breathes through them.
[Atley]: Oranna.
Atley growls warmly in greeting.
Erixa peers at Brannagen. "I was here last time."
[Brannagen]: Oh there's an old friend at last! An' her dwarf!
Brannagen chuckles at Befound.
Oranna waves frantically. Her hair is only half braided and she's still working on the other. "Aye, sorry, sorry. Gryphon was bein' tetchy. I'm here."
[Cressidha]: Good afternoon, Ace. Good afternoon, Oranna.
Iphindra smiles at Befound.
Brannagen peers right back at Erixa. "Were ye?"
[Ben]: No rush, we are good. Still waitin' on — oh, here she is now.
[Cressidha]: Auralind, Thaeru'kal, good afternoon.
[Erixa]: Yes, I am not tricking!
Atley peers at Thaerukal searchingly.
[Auralind]: Elune adore.
Atley grunts in greeting.
Oranna ties off the rest of her braid. The second half is definitely hasty looking. It's fine.
[Iphindra]: Lo! *She says to the people who've arrived.*
Thaeru'kal dips her head as if in greeting.
Atley blinks at the suddenness of Velrin's arrival.
[Brannagen]: What a handsome group we are!
[Erixa]: And Velrin, so we are ten.
[Atley]: How are the cultists?
[Cressidha]: Ah! Velrin.
Iphindra raises a hand shyly while looking at Bran. "I- I was also here last time!"
[Brannagen]: …Huh.
[Velrin]: Apologies for my tardiness.
Brannagen shrugs at Iphindra. Who knows?
Velrin bows down graciously.
Ben is wearing a striped blue-and-white scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face. It is apparently a Very Long Scarf, because it is Very Wrapped, and tangled firmly in his pauldron-spikes to keep it in place.
Atley grunts. "Good to have you."
[Brannagen]: Everyone compliment Hazan's boy on his new beard, don't be rude now!
Velrin grins and nods at Dane.
A plant on Iphindra's arm tentatively reaches a root towards Befound.
Brannagen laughs.
Velrin giggles.
[Cressidha]: His name is Ben.
Erixa laughs.
[Cressidha]: That's a lovely scarf, Ben.
Oranna looks over excitedly at Ben — did he grow a — oh. It's a scarf.
Atley side-eyes Ben. "Certainly looks warm." he observes objectively.
[Oranna]: Very wooly.
[Iphindra]: V- very beautiful!
Ben smiles at Cressidha. This is apparent only from the way his eyes crinkle up, because he is still mostly scarf.
[Ben]: Thanks.
Auralind squints at…nothing in particular. "Is it a beard…or a scarf? Or both?"
Ben is a little muffled. Ha ha get it? Muffled?
[Atley]: It's a scarf. Looks beardy.
Brannagen says more seriously to Auralind, "It's a scarf, but it looks like a beard, way he has it wrapped around."
[Auralind]: Ahh, I see. Very humorous.
[Brannagen]: Thank ye!
[Atley]: Right then, Blue Squad. Let's bugger off.
Ben tugs the scarf down. "A scarf I knit, ma'am. I could not grow a dwarf beard in time. Also Mizzy said no."
Oranna looks baffled at that. He could grow a beard but Mizzy said no? B-but why?
[Cressidha]: Where are we off to, Dane?
[Brannagen]: Dwarves have an advantage in growin' beards, in tha' we have centuries ta do it.
[Cressidha]: Retrieving the rest of that goblin equipment?
Oranna nods at Brannagen.
Iphindra looks surprised at Ben. He could grow that beard, really? She's never seen humans with beards like that before!
Ben nods solemnly at Bran.
[Atley]: We're to return to Fizzlespark. She's interviewed those goblins we rescued.
[Erixa]: The blue ladies?
[Ben]: White Squad, let's go talk to Ricket again.
Brannagen salutes you with respect.
[Cressidha]: Very well.
Brannagen greets Aiseia with a hearty hello!
Ben nods respectfully to Ricket. "Hello, ma'am. We are back."
Ricket says: Hey, it’s my Cobalt chums! How’s it going, sweets?
[Brannagen]: Lo there lass.
Ricket squints at Ben. "That's a lotta scarf there, champ."
[Oranna]: Still ha' all our fingers and eyebrows an' lookin' ta keep it that way.
Brannagen stands comfortably close to the enormous spotted predator.
Befound is but a humble house cat. Pet her. It's not a trap.
Brannagen is a wise dwarf and does not pet the enormous predator.
[Oranna]: Ach, lass, *Oranna mutters at Befound.*
Ricket says: No worries, toots, I guarantee your fingers and toes will all remain attached today! I mean, unless by your own personal negligence, for which K3 assumes no liability.
Befound just yawns and stretches.
[Brannagen]: We're mostly dwarves, an' our fingers an' toes are surprisingly hard ta detach.
[Oranna]: I didn't even say anythin' about toes. Why're ye mentionin' toes?
Oranna looks nervously at Ricket.
Ricket says: Ha ha what? I didn't. But listen — the great news is that now you’ve bought our sapper squad some time, they’re ready for the real fun: a full-scale counterassault on Garm!
[Brannagen]: That does sound fun.
[Ben]: Garm? Is the… magnataur place, yeah?
[Auralind]: Finally something worthy of our talents.
Brannagen nods at Auralind.
Ricket says: Ooooh, you remember. That's right, the magnataur place.
Oranna is definitely still worrying about her toes. "Full scale? How full scale?"
Ricket says: I sent a runner to set a teleporter up behind the magnataur stronghold — successfully, I might add! — and he returned here to get the power cell it needed to function.
Ricket says: Since the thing isn’t working yet, I’m guessing the power cell never got there.
Ricket says: So your job's an easy one! I need you to head back out along the southern edge of Garm’s Bane to see what happened to the power cell. If you find it, carry it east to Garm’s Rise and slot it into the teleporter to activate it!
Ricket says: I’ll know it’s working when, y’know. You teleport back. Toes and all.
[Brannagen]: All righ' then.
Oranna looks like she thinks what happened to the powercell is what might happen to their non-liability covered toes.
[Ben]: Yes'm.
[Ben]: Okay, so eyes up for a goblin runner and… somethin' that might be a power cell.
[Brannagen]: Handsome ram ye got there, Ace.
Oranna nods at Ben.
Grimes yells: There are more attackers coming from Garm. Get some mines on that field!
[Ben]: Oh, uh.
[Ben]: Mines are still active, I see.
[Ben]: Watch out for 'em.
[Oranna]: Right.
Ben watches a mob of snobold attackers dash past. "They sure is hard to dissuade."
[Brannagen]: Easy there, Muradin.
[Oranna]: Oh no.
[Brannagen]: Wot's that then?
[Ben]: Oh, shit. Well.
Ben kneels before the corpse of the K3 Snow Runner.
Brannagen notices the power cell before he notices the dead goblin.
[Oranna]: Is he…
[Ben]: Sir? Hey, uh…
[Brannagen]: Stand back, I got thes…
Brannagen rolls up his sleeves and starts casting a resurrection spell.
Oranna stands a little back.
Ben stands back, mostly to fend off another attacking snobold.
Oranna keeps a weather eye on the snobolds.
[Auralind]: This humming thing… *(which likely does not sound like it's humming to anyone else)*…the power cell?
[Oranna]: I'd think so, aye.
Ben turns away from the fresh snobold corpse to eye the device in the snow.
[Oranna]: He mus' have been slowed by it.
[Aiseia]: i'm no engineer, but i think it's a good guess
[Brannagen]: Welp. This one dinna wanna come back, it seems.
[Ben]: Looks heavy, yeah. Poor fellow.
Ben stoops gingerly to heft the thing.
[Oranna]: Why they send them off all on their own out here is beyond me.
[Brannagen]: May yer rocket blast ye ta the… wherever goblins go, lad.
[Auralind]: They likely hoped for stealth. Too many would have attracted attention…well, more attention.
[Brannagen]: Who wants to carry the wotsit?
Befound eyes the body specutively. Is this lunch?
[Ben]: Reckon I can get this the rest of the way.
Brannagen nods at Ben.
[Brannagen]: Big strappin' lad.
[Ben]: Should we… cover him in the snow or somethin'?
[Brannagen]: Hmmm, mebbe?
[Oranna]: I dinna know tha' we'd be able ta get him deep enough ta avoid, ah, predators.
[Brannagen]: True, true. We can tell his people where his body is at least.
[Brannagen]: They'll know what ta do.
[Ben]: Okay.
[Oranna]: Probably gonna put him on a mine or…*Oranna mutters the rest.*
[Ben]: So, uh, let's see if we got more luck gettin' through here. Watch out for more of them snobolds.
[Oranna]: Tha' sure is weird lookin'.
[Ben]: What is, ma'am?
[Oranna]: The fire bone thing.
[Ben]: You can see that necropolis.
[Auralind]: Can I, though?
Auralind smirks slyly at Ben.
Oranna laughs at Auralind.
Brannagen chuckles at Auralind.
[Ben]: You could see it. Ma'am. If… you could.
Ben 's ears are very red beneath the edge of his scarf.
[Brannagen]: Ye can probably smell it.
[Oranna]: Oh, ach.
[Auralind]: Thankfully, I cannot smell it…at this distance.
[Ben]: Mostly just smells cold as hell, here.
Auralind nods at Ben.
[Brannagen]: Let's get closer!
[Oranna]: Jus' ta smell it?
[Oranna]: Eh.
[Brannagen]: We gotta look at it, it's only fair.
[Auralind]: I've been as close to necropoli as I'd ever like to be. Inside one, in fact.
[Ben]: Damn, it's real close to — oh. You reckon that's the transporter thing? Teleprompter?
[Brannagen]: What really??
Brannagen peers at Auralind searchingly.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye?
[Brannagen]: When did ye go inside one?
Brannagen looks like he's itching to take notes.
[Auralind]: Some weeks past, our squad had to infiltrate one…in disguise.
Auralind grimaces.
Ben looks over his shoulder at Auralind, peering past the power cell he's carrying balanced there now.
[Brannagen]: Oh, you have got ta tell me that story later. All the details.
[Brannagen]: That does look like a goblin transport thingy, aye.
[Oranna]: Where does the…where can we put…
[Ben]: Where you reckon we — yeah.
Ben looks at Oranna.
Oranna is definitely not an engineer.
[Brannagen]: Here maybe?
Brannagen pokes the round bit.
[Ben]: Sure, okay.
[Oranna]: I'm afraid if we jus' start plugging it in, we're gonna lose a toe. Or ten.
[Ben]: Well, stand back, then.
[Brannagen]: Back up then!
Oranna backs up.
[Brannagen]: Maybe someone who can turn him or herself ta stone should try putting it in ferst, aye?
[Ben]: I got a shield.
[Brannagen]: Oh, aye.
[Brannagen]: Good luck then!
Oranna nods at Ben.
Brannagen stands back.
Ben casts a shield of holy light around himself, and then approaches the round thing and attempts to fit the power cell into it.
Brannagen watches eagerly.
Oranna watches nervously.
Ben vanishes.
[Oranna]: Oh.
[Brannagen]: That was… best case scenario right?
[Brannagen]: We better folla.
[Auralind]: What happened?!
[Oranna]: Well.
[Oranna]: It's workin'?
[Brannagen]: It teleported him!
[Oranna]: Ben ah, aye.
[Brannagen]: …One assumes.
[Oranna]: Well.
[Brannagen]: I'll go next.
Thaeru'kal rumbles softly.
Brannagen turns to stone first just in case.
In K3, Ben is standing by the teleporter expectantly when Brannagen steps through.
[Brannagen]: They're a bit reluctant.
[Ben]: … oh, uh.
[Ben]: Should I -
[Brannagen]: Want me ta ride back an' show em I survived?
[Brannagen]: Ye can wait here in case they get their nerve.
[Ben]: Okay.
Meanwhile, back at the Garm end of the teleporter…
[Auralind]: Thaeru'kal says she felt no death…
Oranna watches nervously.
[Oranna]: Could she feel it tha' far?
[Auralind]: I assume she means if he had simply died here.
[Oranna]: Tha's…tha's comfortin'. *She does not look or sound comforted.*
[Oranna]: Well. No' help ta it.
[Aiseia]: We're here. They're there.
Oranna pushes the button.
… and arrives in K3, where Ben is still waiting.
[Ben]: Oh, there you are.
[Ben]: Bran just went back to make sure the rest of y'all will come.
Oranna looks relieved to see Ben. "You're not dead!"
[Ben]: I am ninety percent sure I am not dead.
[Oranna]: Thaeru'kal could only tell ye didna die there.
Ben glances up, relieved, as the other two emerge intact.
[Auralind]: Blessed Mother… we are alive.
[Ben]: Did Bran find you?
[Ben]: He went back.
Befound looks three times her usual size. Her fur is sticking straight out and she looks ready to hiss at everything.
[Ben]: So you'd know it was okay.
[Oranna]: No, we were jus' worried.
[Ben]: Oh.
Oranna might have been the worrier.
Ben would never guess it.
Brannagen dismounts, breathless, and grins.
[Ben]: Here he comes back. Okay! Okay. So, we done it. Teleprompt arranged.
Brannagen 's ram absolutely did leap over the wall just then.
[Brannagen]: Knew ye could do et.
[Auralind]: Welcome back, Prospector.
[Ben]: Hey, ma'am.
Ricket says: He-eyyy, there you are!
Brannagen greets Ricket with a hearty hello!
A fierce grin creeps onto Ricket’s face.
Ricket says: Let the destruction begin!
Ricket says: Now that we’ve got the teleporter working, my plan is quite complex. It has several facets and will require impeccable coordination. And there are supplies to be gathered, and troops to recruit — likely weeks of hard labor, as well.
Oranna narrows her eyes at Ricket.
[Brannagen]: Oh aye?
Ricket says: Hahahaha, had you going there for a moment, didn’t I? You’ve got this, kids. Hop through the teleporter and take the fight to them! Our sappers will back you up. They won’t have anywhere to run!
[Ben]: … oh.
Brannagen eyes Ricket up and down.
[Oranna]: Th-the snobolds or th' sappers??
Brannagen laughs.
Ricket says: Yeah!
[Auralind]: We must use it again?
[Brannagen]: Let's ride.
Ricket says: Why not? It's perfectly safe, you just tested it! Why, you practically built it yourselves!
Befound looks ready to revolt.
[Ben]: … okay.
[Brannagen]: Muradin's restless!
Oranna slips Befound a fish.
[Brannagen]: My ram, I mean, I intend no implications toward the possibly dead or living late Bronzebeard.
The Revolution has been delayed.
Oranna chuckles at Brannagen.
Ben takes a deep breath. "The idea I reckon is to slip behind 'em without 'em spottin' us. Hence the telimport."
[Brannagen]: Oh.
Brannagen dismounts again.
Ricket says: You got it, sweets. Real sharp one.
They pile back into the teleporter, and emerge once more at Garm. This time, there are a number of goblins swarming around making preparations for an attack. Goblins work fast, it seems.
[Brannagen]: Oof, sorry.
[Brannagen]: Brelliant!!!
[Auralind]: That is so disorienting….
Brannagen congratulates everyone.
[Ben]: That is a weird feelin', I ain't gonna lie.
Befound growls. The revolution might be back on.
[Oranna]: It's no' even a button. Jus'…
Thaeru'kal reassures Befound.
The revolution has been briefly delayed once more.
[Oranna]: Ye could stumble back inta it an'…
[Ben]: Okay, so now we are here, we are supposed to tackle them Garm fellows.
Gino says: Hey, yo! Joining us for the assault, I assume?
[Brannagen]: Gonna ask em how it works later. I willna understand the answer, but I gotta ask.
Brannagen waves at Gino.
Oranna waves at Gino.
[Ben]: Uh. Yes? Ricket sent us.
[Auralind]: We are here to supervise and make certain you succeed.
Gino eyes Auralind up and down. "Yeah, yeah. Sounds good. I’ve got a special job for ya. We’re going to bring the whole cave down on their heads!"
[Oranna]: Th' whole…yer gonna collapse a cave??
[Brannagen]: If this were anywhere but Northrend, I'd care about tha'.
[Ben]: We are? Ricket did not mention.
Oranna does not like the sound of that plan.
[Auralind]: Of course she did not….
Gino says: That's the plan, kids, I assure you! It's gonna be fantastic, I promise.
Gino says: Toward the back of the place, you should find an altar to the big fella, Frostgut. Sneak up and plant this explosive bundle someplace near it.
Gino holds out a bundle of explosives. There are a lot of wires sticking out of it.
[Brannagen]: Oh fer the Titans' -
[Oranna]: How large is th' blast radius like ta be?
Oranna wants to know where to stand. Or run.
Gino says: Once the charge is placed, you’ve just gotta stick around long enough to make sure Frostgut bites it, then skedaddle! There’s no knowing how long the cave will last once that thing goes off!
[Brannagen]: I swear workin' with goblins is worse than workin' with the Explorers' League, and that's sayin somethin'. *He chuckles.*
[Oranna]: Oh, fer th' love of th' Light, *Oranna mutters.*
Gino says: Don't worry, I've built in plenty of time for your escape. You guys are fast, right?
Brannagen looks down at his short legs.
Ben frowns sternly.
Oranna looks down at her legs. Are they fast? How fast??
[Auralind]: I will ensure we are.
[Brannagen]: Hey Mistwalker, feel like carryin' a dwarf?
Ben looks from Aura to Bran and back again. "I got… shields, too?" Paladin bubbles: the answer to every quest.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye.
[Brannagen]: Oh right! Me too, ef et comes to et.
Ben accepts the explosive bundle gingerly.
[Ben]: Okay. Welp.
Brannagen salutes Ben with respect.
[Ben]: Let's, uh. Go see some magnataurs about an explosion.
Brannagen waves at Goblin Sapper.
[Oranna]: Tha' does not look safe.
Oranna looks at the goblins with their explosives on their backs.
[Ben]: … you reckon they volunteer for that job?
[Oranna]: Ye'd hope.
[Ben]: Okay, uh. Y'all maybe keep 'em off me while I'm carrying this thing. Or… does someone else want to carry it?
Ben eyes a Garm Watcher up and down.
[Oranna]: I can shoot better than I can carry.
[Brannagen]: We can watch yer back.
[Ben]: Okay, then.
[Ben]: Keep 'em off. Don't want to blow up till it's supposed to.
Oranna nods at Ben.
[Oranna]: Damn straight.
Oranna is ace at shooting at least.
[Ben]: Smells nasty in here.
[Ben]: Like a ogre cave with extra fish.
[Oranna]: Lot o' dead things, aye.
[Brannagen]: There's real nice red thengs growin in here, Mistwalker.
[Brannagen]: Like pulsatin' tree-sized flowers.
[Auralind]: Interesting
Goblin Sapper says: Kaaboooom!
[Brannagen]: One over here if ye wanna poke at it.
Auralind feels the fronds of the strange red plant.
[Brannagen]: Kinda neat, eh?
Ben waits politely with his explosive bundle while Auralind pokes the plant.
[Auralind]: Like nothing I recognize.
[Brannagen]: Me either!
[Auralind]: If my daughter was here, she might be able to tell us more about it.
Brannagen begins to sketch one of the plants.
[Oranna]: Oh! Nilu! Is she…she's doin' okay?
[Ben]: Miss Nellie! It has been a mule's age.
[Auralind]: She is well. The last I heard from her, she was considering joining her uncle in the Plaguelands to assist with the regrowth efforts there.
[Oranna]: Oh aye?
[Ben]: She took it to heart so much when we was there together, I remember.
[Brannagen]: Heard about tha'. About time.
[Ben]: That place was hard on her.
Auralind nods.
[Auralind]: The thought that there could be hope to restore those lands seems to have inspired her.
[Brannagen]: Ef the druids can manage et, that'd be fantastic.
[Ben]: I am glad. She's a good girl.
[Oranna]: So tha' means there is, then? Hope tha'll it's somethin' that can be fixed?
[Auralind]: And I will feel better about it knowing she will have Caspis to watch over her.
[Brannagen]: Aye!
[Brannagen]: They've been talkin of tryin for a while now, an' it seems it's finally underway!
[Auralind]: Yes, it seems the Cenarion Circle's leadership is finally doing something.
Brannagen nods at Auralind.
[Ben]: … y'all reckon that is a altar?
[Oranna]: I…
[Brannagen]: Looks like it, aye.
[Oranna]: Well, it's got candles.
[Oranna]: Cults like candles.
[Brannagen]: Candles are a sure sign, aye.
[Ben]: Fair.
[Oranna]: Oh, an' food.
Oranna points to the top.
[Aiseia]: The aesthetics leave a lot to be desired.
[Ben]: Okay, uh, stand back.
Oranna stands back.
Ben waits for the others to move away before he approaches the altar warily.
Ben kneels down.
Ben places the explosive bundle at the foot of the altar. He stares at it for a moment. Nothing happens.
Oranna watches Ben nervously.
[Ben]: Do I gotta light it, or –
[Brannagen]: There's candles right there.
Oranna shrugs at Ben. Who knows?
There is a beep, and a fizzing sound.
[Ben]: Oh.
[Brannagen]: Welp.
[Oranna]: Oh.
[Oranna]: Ah.
Tormar Frostgut yells: Delicious morsels have come to visit! Shall I use your bombs to cook you?
[Auralind]: Do we run…?
Ben eyes Tormar Frostgut up and down.
[Auralind]: Oh.
Oranna does look delicious, it's true.
Tormar Frostgut will never know, as he is now dead, White Squad having made short – get it? because dwarves? – work of him.
[Ben]: Now run!
Brannagen yells for everyone to flee!
[Ben]: Go, go!
The mountain is shuddering around them.
Brannagen yells for everyone to flee!
Oranna shoots and runs. It's a skill.
[Ben]: Keep runnin'!
Brannagen yells for everyone to flee!
Auralind yells for everyone to flee!
[Brannagen]: Are we runnin the right way??
[Ben]: I remember that pool!
Stones and dust rattle from the roof.
Brannagen begins sheilding people.
Somewhere behind them is a calamitous crash.
As they emerge into the frosty air, the ground shudders, and behind them with a roar, the cave mouth fills with dust and smoke. The entrance collapses.
Brannagen cheers!
Brannagen cackles maniacally at the situation.
[Brannagen]: That was exhilaratin!
Oranna is breathless, flushed, and definitely worried.
Auralind grimaces at the thunderous sound.
[Brannagen]: Whew! Reminds me ta write my ma.
[Ben]: Well, shit.
Oranna does a swift headcount. She looks very pale.
[Ben]: Good runnin', y'all.
Ben also looks pale.
[Oranna]: Aye.
[Brannagen]: I had yer backs the whole time! No worries.
[Ben]: Okay. Let's… report in.
Oranna brushes at her face with both hands as they run.
[Brannagen]: That was quite the adventure!
[Ben]: Everyone okay?
[Brannagen]: Brelliant.
Brannagen peers at the others.
[Auralind]: My ears are ringing.
[Ben]: … sorry, Auralind. Workin' with goblins has not been easy on you, I know.
Bran casts a healing spell on Auralind.
Auralind sighs softly. "Thank you, Prospector."
Oranna nods, although she doesn't really look okay. "Oh, Auralind. We should get ye…somethin'. Jo mentioned in th' letter some ear coverin'?"
Brannagen gently pats Auralind.
Auralind nods to Ben with a grimace.
[Oranna]: I bet Jo could make somethin'.
[Brannagen]: Wouldna tha' be like blindfoldin the rest of us?
[Auralind]: Brannagen is correct.
[Auralind]: If I limit my hearing, I cannot 'see'.
[Ben]: Maybe we can work somethin' out, if they got more explosions for us to deal with.
[Ben]: We'll figure it out.
[Brannagen]: Or maybe we're done with explosions?
[Brannagen]: A man can hope.
[Oranna]: Somethin' ye could turn on an' off, maybe? Or like safety goggles instead o' a blindfold?
Gino says: The whole mountain shook! Was it gorgeous? I bet it was! How could it not be!
[Brannagen]: It was certainly… somethin'.
[Oranna]: It sure was…somethin', aye.
[Ben]: … oh, uh, yeah. Hey, sir. We done it.
Gino says: And the Inventor’s League tells me all of my inventions just blow up. Damn right they do! Hah!
Auralind bristles like she'd like to explain exactly how it was not gorgeous…with her fists.
[Brannagen]: Would've preferred ta see a bit more of it from outside the cave than we did.
Gino says: You’ve sure got some fast feet, pals. Thanks for lending a hand — it was a blast working with ya. Go ahead and tell Ricket we should be all good on the magnataur front now. My sappers will clean up the rest.
Brannagen nods at Gino.
Ben eyes the squadron of sappers standing behind Gino a little dubiously.
Oranna looks worriedly over at the sappers.
Brannagen waves goodbye to Goblin Sapper. Farewell!
[Ben]: Okay.
Oranna sighs and slips Befound another fish.
Brannagen greets Ricket with a hearty hello!
Ricket says: So, how’d it go?
[Auralind]: Loudly.
[Ben]: We, uh. Blown up the mountain.
Ricket says: You blew the whole place up? Way to go! Bet Gino got a kick out of that!
[Brannagen]: He did seem pleased.
[Ben]: … yeah. He said to tell you he reckons the magnataurs will not be a problem no more.
[Oranna]: Probably everyone within 20 miles got a kick, aye.
Ricket grins toothily. "That's great! Great news."
Ricket 's expression turns somber, or as somber as goblin expressions get.
Ricket says: Okay, so I’ll be straight with ya. This has been a great time, but I dunno how much else there is for us to do here.
Ricket says: Between frozen engines, nasty vrykul women, territorial magnataur, and half a dozen other nasties settled in the area, this just ain’t happening, and a girl’s gotta know when to cut her losses.
Oranna looks like she's wondering if they're part of the losses being cut. Is this where the toes comes in?
Auralind mutters dryly, "We will no longer be working with goblins? I am devastated."
[Ben]: But we just… I mean. All that shit we done?
Ricket says: Sunk cost fallacy, sweetie, look it up.
Ricket says: We’re gonna see what we can get out of those mines nearby, but that’s about as far as the K3 Expedition is gonna make it.
Ricket says: Don’t you worry, though! Remember I told you last time I had something for ya if you pitched in here? Well, you’ve done more than your share, and I’m a goblin of her word, so I’ll do more than mine.
[Brannagen]: Wot next then?
Ricket says: We’re not the only outpost in the area. Some fellas from the Explorers’ League came traipsing through in that absent-minded way of theirs not that long ago, and headed up into the mountains.
Brannagen siiiiiiiiiiiighs.
Ricket says: And since you’ve been such pals, I can do more than just point you at ‘em: I can send you to ‘em. Grab a D16 Propelled Delivery Device, and give those boys my love!
Ricket gestures grandly to some pretty scrubby-looking nearby rockets.
[Brannagen]: Grab a wot now?
[Oranna]: No'….no' the mountain we jus' blew up was it?
Brannagen looks at Oranna, and back at the goblin. Was it?
Ricket says: D16 Propelled Delivery Device, my own patent! And no, sweets, totally different mountain. They got loads of 'em around here, if you haven't noticed.
[Brannagen]: Aye, aye.
[Oranna]: Well, sure, but it's not like…
[Brannagen]: I'm sure they're fine, lass.
Oranna doesn't finish that sentence but it's obvious she doesn't assume the goblins would be safety minded.
[Brannagen]: Wotever trouble they may be in I'm sure it's entirely their own fault.
Oranna sighs. She doesn't disagree.
Ricket says: Hop on board, and tell the Explorers Ricket sent ya! Or don't. Good luck!
[Brannagen]: All right then. It's been fun.
[Brannagen]: I'd say keep yer feet on the ground, but.
Auralind 's ears twitch anxiously.
[Brannagen]: Let's do thes!!
Ben approaches the rockets.
Oranna looks nervous about the rockets.
[Aiseia]: okay here we go
[Brannagen]: WOO HOOOO!
Brannagen cheers!
Oranna is ready to jump out and away from the rocket the second it lands. This is not the first thing she's been launched in that blew up on arrival at its destination.
Brannagen cheers!
[Ben]: … ow.
Brannagen laughs, eyes sparkling.
Oranna lands in a pile of snow, ungracefully.
[Ben]: Uh — oh, hey. It is a whole outpost.
Ben offers Oranna a hand up.
[Brannagen]: Better landin' than I expected.
Oranna brushes snow off her face and takes Ben's hand to stand back up, looking around.
Auralind lands gracefully because elves are super amazing and get all the narrative chrome.
[Brannagen]: Everyone all righ'? Any bumps or bruises?
[Oranna]: Jus' wounded pride, is all.
Brannagen gently pats Oranna.
Befound licks a paw.
[Auralind]: No. More. Goblins.
[Brannagen]: I got a healin' spell fer yer pride, too Oranna, dinna worry.
[Brannagen]: It's more of an incantation.
Oranna laughs at Brannagen.
Oranna brushes more snow off her armor.
[Brannagen]: It goes like, 'Yer doin' amazin', yer a wonder, a marvel, we're all impressed, keep up the good work!'
[Brannagen]: Better?
Oranna chuckles at Brannagen.
[Ben]: Okay. So.
Ben looks around.
Rork Sharpchin hails the group from outside a small camp building nearby.
Oranna waves back to Rork.
Ben peers at Rork Sharpchin.
Rork Sharpchin peers bright-eyed at the group. "Ha ha ha, that looked painful! What a grand entrance though, aye? Are ye with the League?"
[Brannagen]: Aye.
Ben glances at Brannagen.
[Brannagen]: I mean - well.
[Oranna]: No.
Oranna says that a little too emphatically.
Rork Sharpchin does not seem confused, or even acknowledge any confusion.
[Brannagen]: Prospector Stillwall. An' Cobalt Company.
[Oranna]: Oranna. Oranna Stormbreaker. Only Cobalt Company.
Rork Sharpchin says: Well, welcome, welcome ta Frosthold! Would ye believe our luck? Here we are on the trail of Brann Bronzebeard, trying to find a foothold in these mountains, and what do we stumble across but…
Rork Sharpchin says: another long-lost race of dwarves!
[Brannagen]: Ohhh?
Ben blinks and looks around more carefully.
Oranna pales a little. "Dwarves? Actual dwarves or…"
Rork Sharpchin says: Aye, lass! Our hosts call themselves the Frostborn, and they’re led by Yorg Stormheart, their King. Unlike the iron dwarves, this lot have welcomed us and offered their hospitality and their help.
[Brannagen]: Well tha's nice.
Oranna is obviously relieved.
[Brannagen]: Frostborn eh? *He whips out his journal and starts scribbling.* King… Yorg… Stormheart…
Rork Sharpchin says: If you’re willing, would ye go across to Lagnus there and lend him a hand? He had some gifts to offer our new friends, I believe. Before ye do that, though —
Rork Sharpchin lowers his voice.
Oranna leans in closer.
Rork Sharpchin says: I don’t know if ye’ve come across any yet, but these mountains are full of Titan artifacts. Signs of the Keepers’ presence everywhere. These mountains are a motherlode.
Oranna rolls her eyes and leans back.
Rork Sharpchin says: If ye happen to run across any fragments or relics, would ye bring them my way? I’m trying to put together a survey for the League. I can pay ye — well, I can pay ye in beer. Departmental budget cutbacks, ye know.
[Brannagen]: Sure theng.
[Ben]: … okay.
Ben looks willing to be paid in beer.
[Auralind]: Beer…
Oranna does not. But, this is fine. She can pass on her beer.
Auralind might just be repulsed at the idea of payment in beer.
[Brannagen]: Cobalt Company's payin' us anyhow, so don't sweat yer budget.
Ben will drink anyone else's share, unless Bran wants it first.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye. Cutbacks.
Rork Sharpchin nods solemnly at Oranna.
[Ben]: Which was the fellow you said we should see…?
Oranna mutters something under her breath about the Explorer's League and their 'cutbacks.'
Rork Sharpchin says: Lagnus! O'er by the bonfire.
[Ben]: Yessir.
[Brannagen]: Ah, Lagnus.
[Oranna]: Ye know him?
[Brannagen]: He's all righ'. Mostly.
[Oranna]: His beard looks…real short.
[Brannagen]: I did say mostly.
[Oranna]: Like he's blown it off a time or two….
Lagnus glances up from the fire. "Stillwall! Ye made it!"
[Brannagen]: Aye, and in one piece, even.
[Oranna]: Which was not a guarantee, we can tell ye.
Lagnus surveys Bran and laughs heartily.
Brannagen grins wickedly at Lagnus.
[Brannagen]: So this here's Cobalt Company; they're good folk.
Lagnus says: Ah! Thank ye for coming. Judging by their wide eyes and shivering hands, I’d venture a guess that your friends are new in these parts. Sounds like it would be good for you to meet our gracious hosts!
[Brannagen]: Sure.
Lagnus says: We’ve got some extra medical supplies here. To be honest, we weren’t expecting to have such a comfortable setup. Go ahead and take this crate of spares to Glorthal over there, and lend him a hand if ye would, too.
Lagnus says: He's the… uh. Stony fellow.
Lagnus waves a hand cheerfully.
[Brannagen]: You got it.
Oranna looks around.
[Oranna]: Oh.
Ben collects the crate of supplies.
Ben is the Carrying Stuff Guy.
Brannagen peers around, searchingly.
Oranna looks at Glorthal curiously.
Glorthal Stiffbeard surveys the approaching group. "Hello."
[Oranna]: Hello there.
[Brannagen]: Lo there!
[Auralind]: Ishnu alah.
Brannagen immediately begins sketching Glorthal.
[Ben]: Mr. Stiffbeard? We have got a crate of medical supplies here from the Explorers' League fellows for you.
Glorthal Stiffbeard eyes Bran sidelong. He smiles a little bemusedly at Ben.
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: Medical supplies? Fantastic! Not — er, not sure what we’ll do with them, exactly, but I’m sure they’ll be useful.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye?
[Ben]: Oh.
Ben sets the crate in the snow.
[Ben]: Well, we are from — uh, the Explorers' fellow send us over but we are with Cobalt Company. From the Alliance?
Glorthal Stiffbeard nods politely. "It’s grand to meet you. There’s such a colorful variety among your peoples. We’re not used to having visitors up this way very often."
Brannagen does a little hand-over-heart gesture at mention of the Alliance. Patriotism!
[Oranna]: Oh, ah. I suppose…it's a bit of a walk fer most of us, aye.
Brannagen nods at Oranna.
It's a lot more than a bit of a walk, but #okayOranna.
Ben dusts his hands off and arranges his scarf more tightly. "If you ain't need the medical supplies right now, sir, you got anything else needs doin'?"
[Brannagen]: We're happy ta help!
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: Well — there is something we could use a hand with, if you’re willing.
[Oranna]: We've got ten hands and eight paws, if ye've need o' somethin'.
Brannagen chuckles at Oranna.
Glorthal Stiffbeard smiles at Oranna. "We have a few scouts that are extremely late in returning. The peaks here can be harsh, but our lads know what they’re doing."
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: Head east of here, along the Bor’s Breath valley and near Bor’s Fall — they should have gone in that direction. If you find any sign, bring me back news immediately.
Oranna sobers, nodding. "We've two trackers. We'll find 'em."
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: We have a few enemies in the area. If any of them are getting aggressive, the more warning, the better.
[Ben]: Yessir.
Brannagen nods at Oranna.
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: Thank you, friends.
Ben cranes his neck around at the bowl of the settlement.
[Ben]: They got a pretty cozy setup here, that Explorer fellow was right.
[Brannagen]: Look a' those buildin's.
[Oranna]: Looks like these others know wha' they're doin', with buildin' around ice like this.
[Brannagen]: Ye can see the commonalities between theirs an' mainland dwarven architecture.
[Ben]: I was gonna say, sir, yeah. It looks for sure dwarfen to me.
Ben eyes Brandig up and down.
[Ben]: Look at those dwarfs.
Oranna stares too obviously at Brandig.
[Ben]: Those fellows is blue. I mean, that one is, anyhow.
[Oranna]: Like he's made of ice…

[Brannagen]: Different flavor, but, some similar details…
Bran is still talking about the architecture.
Oranna nods distractedly at Ben. "He does look like he'd be another flavor, aye."
Oranna does not hear what she's said.
Ben turns s l o w l y to look at Oranna.
Oranna is innocent.
Brannagen hides a smile.
Ben clears his throat.
[Ben]: Okay. So.
[Ben]: I see a gryphon nest up there. Let's get permits an' then see about trackin' their fellows?
[Oranna]: Trackin' in snow can be hard.
[Oranna]: If there's been fresh fall since they've left, we won't see much.
Brannagen sketches the buildings as they walk.
Oranna gets her passport updated. She stares a little too obviously at Faldorf.
Ben also stares. Faldorf stares right back, equably.
[Ben]: … thanks.
Oranna looks like she wants to ask questions but…
Brannagen mumbles, "Fascinatin'…"
[Ben]: Hey!
Ben stops abruptly.
[Ben]: That fellow is riding on a eagle.
[Brannagen]: So he is, so he is.
Oranna looks at Ben and then what Ben is looking at. "Oh. So he is."
Auralind smiles. "Magnificent."
[Ben]: Damn, that is magnificent as hell. Wish I got an eagle.
Ben summons his plain old gryphon.
[Oranna]: Ye think they'll let ye try one out?
[Brannagen]: I will say no such thing out loud with Magni Bronzebird listenin'.
[Ben]: You reckon I could fit on a eagle?
[Oranna]: We'll, maybe they grow 'em bigger?
[Oranna]: Can't imagine yer heavier than one o' us. We're dense.
[Ben]: … that is true.
[Brannagen]: Especially the Exporer's League.
Oranna laughs at Brannagen.
[Oranna]: Ye might dangle a wee bit.
Oranna has one hand on her gryphon in a death grip, and the other holding her gun with her scope pointed down below them.
[Ben]: Keep eyes peeled for them scouts. He said round about this way, maybe?
Brannagen nods.
Oranna nods, as she looks through her scope, searching.
[Oranna]: Ben!
[Ben]: Yeah?
[Brannagen]: Ye see somethin lass?
[Oranna]: There's a man, down there.
Oranna points.
[Brannagen]: Ach, harpies…
Ben lands his gryphon on the glacier and peers in the direction Oranna pointed.
A dwarf in dark leathers is lying on bloodied ice, a harpy hovering over his prone form. White Squad dispatches the harpy and then approaches the dwarf.
[Ben]: Sir? Sir!
[Ben]: Bran, we need you, I reckon!
[Brannagen]: Ooof, yer all right, ser.
[Brannagen]: We're friends.
[Brannagen]: Let me just see t'those wounds…
The Frostborn Scout attempts to rise to his feet at the group's approach, but stumbles back to the ground, clenching an obviously painful wound in his side.
Brannagen casts some healing spells on the harpy-mutilated dwarf and murmurs to him in soothing Dwarvish.
[Oranna]: Easy, easy, lad.
Oranna looks over at the harpy-like monster that had been hovering over him and just stares for a long…long time.
Frostborn Scout says: I've lost a lot of blood, friends. There's no way I'm making it back.
[Brannagen]: Sorry we didna get here sooner, friend.
[Ben]: What happened?
Frostborn Scout says: A pack of harpies… up from the valley. Led by… a big one. Sirana. Nowhere to escape.
Oranna doesn't look like she's hearing anything they're saying, just staring at the harpy.
[Brannagen]: We'll see if we can find some way ta carry ye back.
Frostborn Scout says: Too… late.
The Frostborn Scout slumps over, coughing up blood on the snow.
Brannagen sighs.
[Brannagen]: Ach.
Oranna startles, looking back over at the scout, pale and drawn, like she's seeing someone else there for a bad moment. She goes, for some reason, briefly stoneform.
Ben knits his brows fiercely and studies the corpse.
[Brannagen]: Healin' strangers is a real gamble. Sometimes ye just canna reach 'em… *he lays a hand on the man's brow.*
[Ben]: Poor fellow. Reckon we ought to — I can try to get him on Stratus with me?
[Brannagen]: Aye, return him ta his people a' least.
Ben nods and whistles for his gryphon, then crouches down to gather the dwarven corpse.
[Ben]: Fucken hell, he is like made of lead.
Oranna moves to help Ben.
Ben staggers a little and casts a grateful look at Oranna.
[Oranna]: Aye. We're…we're dense.
Brannagen gently pats Oranna.
Oranna looks at the scout sadly. You'd think she knew him.
Ben manages, with effort and assistance, to get the dwarven corpse slung across his gryphon's shoulders, and then clambers up carefully behind it.
Stratus looks none too happy about any of this.
[Brannagen]: The ferst thing they teach ye in priest school is, "It en't always work." Still doesna make it feel great.
[Oranna]: It's no'…no' yer fault.
[Brannagen]: I know, lass.
[Brannagen]: Ser, I'm afraid we have some bad news about yer scout.
Ben climbs down from the saddle and hoists said scout's remains down after him. He staggers under the weight again and the corpse kind of… thwumps into the snow.
Brannagen tries not to wince.
Oranna winces.
Glorthal Stiffbeard stares down at the body for a moment.
Ben turns crimson.
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: When a scout doesn't come back for this long… that's about the expected result. Harpies, I'd guess, from his wounds?
Brannagen nods solemnly.
Ben looks relieved he is not In Trouble. "Yessir."
Oranna nods. "They'll…they'll take ye by surprise. Easy ta do. If yer no' lookin'….up." She sounds a little distant, and goes a little pale.
[Brannagen]: I tried ta heal, but we go' there too late.
[Brannagen]: Wounds had set in.
Glorthal Stiffbeard sighs. "I will let his people know. Thank you for finding him, friends, and for attempting your aid."
Ben glances at Oranna.
Oranna is just staring at the body of the scout, looking at him like she knew him.
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: King Stormheart has us train hard year round… he's turned the Frostborn into amazing fighters. At times like this, I understand why it's necessary.
[Brannagen]: Aye.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye.
[Brannagen]: Respect to yer king.
[Auralind]: He sounds like an admirable leader.
Glorthal Stiffbeard nods gravely. "I'll let him know of this sad happening as well. Perhaps ye might come lend us your aid in the future?"
[Brannagen]: Of course!
[Ben]: Happy to help, sir.
[Brannagen]: Is there anywhere here we might shelter fer a bit?
Glorthal Stiffbeard says: You're welcome to camp among us, as your Explorer friends have done. The hospitality of the Frostborn is yours.
[Brannagen]: Thank ye kindly.
Brannagen bows before Glorthal Stiffbeard.
Oranna nods at Glorthal.
Ben bows too, a little awkwardly. He's not a natural bow-er.
[Ben]: Thank you, sir.
Oranna doesn't bow, but she looks like now she's wondering is she supposed to bow?
Brannagen dismounts and gives Magni a pat.
[Brannagen]: Nice warm fire here.
Brannagen does not set himself on fire.
Brannagen warms his hands a little.
[Brannagen]: I think I'll just camp out here wi' them fer a bit. Dalaran's a bit much fer me.
[Ben]: Okay, good work, y'all. Good work.
[Oranna]: Oh, aye. It's nice out here.
Brannagen smiles at Oranna.
Ben nods to the two dwarves.
[Oranna]: Plenty of proper snow.
[Ben]: I ain't mind campin', but the snow's a bit much. Also, the wife's in Dalaran. So.
[Ben]: But I will see y'all.
Oranna nods at you.
Auralind nods in agreement. "This is far preferable to the din of Dalaran."
[Ben]: Stay warm. I will be around, and y'all can reach me fast if you need somethin'.
Brannagen begins to unpack an odd box he's been carrying around, and is assembling something on the snow.
[Oranna]: Sure.
[Aiseia]: I've to see someone in Stormwind, so it's Dalaran for me.
[Brannagen]: Hey Miz Innkeeper, do ye like trains?
Ben nods to Ace.
Ben blinks at Bran, and then looks dubiously between him and the innkeeper.
[Ben]: … oh shit, he got a train.
Brannagen happily sits down and begins to play with the train.
Oranna chuckles, and moves to find someone who looks like they're in charge of where she can set up a tent.
Brannagen has captured some of the local dwarves' interest, and possibly bewilderment. But hey, it's a conversation starter.
Brannagen cheers at Aiseia!
Auralind tilts her head, listening…confused…and a slow grin of amusement makes its way across her face.
[Aiseia]: it's a wee train!
[Brannagen]: Wonderful, aye? Got it in Dalaran.
Brannagen plays for a bit and then packs it away.
[Brannagen]: Time fer a nap I think.