Gnomengarde

You leave Leilon by way of the eastern entrance. Lesser-traveled than the north and south exits which connect to the High Road, little more than a trampled-down footpath exists outside this opening, and even this fades as you move further away from the town and into the open plains.

The Sword Mountains loom on the horizon, your destination somewhere along their southern edge. The Gnomes of Gnomengarde are a secretive, reclusive people - few outsiders have ever visited the settlement, so few people know exactly where it is. Thankfully, you have an accomplished ranger with you to track the settlement down - or so you hope.

Speaking of your ranger companion, as Leilon grows more distant behind you, a strange transformation overtakes him. His body begins to change shape, extending, changing colour, facial features morphing from the Human you encountered into something...different.

No longer an average looking human, Rowan stands at 8ft tall now, his tanned skin now a bluish grey, his ears have extended and his once sharp nose is now flat and wide. His face is still recognizable, just now more animalistic as his true Firbolg form stands before you. "Ahhhh, that's better! Nothing like the great outdoors to let yerself out a little."

Storm eyes Rowan...the Firbolg...curiously.

"This one did think it strange that you duck your head with far more clearing to the door frame than necessary. But why the disguise? If the people of Leilon did not care a Tabaxi graced their town, then surely a Firbolg would be most welcome."

Rowan winks at Storm of Fire. "You'll be surprised how diff'rent people will treat you when they think yer jus' like em, mate."

"I suppose I have only been in your lands for a short time. The first day went quite well I think though I suppose there will always be trouble no matter where you go. So, how many days to the base of the Sword Mountains do you think?"

"If nothin goes wrong it's only a couple days to get there. But no telling how difficult it'll be to find the gnomes."

"And don't you worry about runnin outta food," Rowan taps his heavy crossbow balanced on a hook on his broad back, "I'm a pretty fine hunter."

"So...where are you really from. I do not know much about Firbolgs."

"Born'n raised in the High Forest...that's the biggest forest around, tho prolly nothing compared to the jungle of Chult."

"Ah that sounds exquisite. I think I would like to visit this High Forest one day. The jungles of Chult are endless, or so they say. I however, grew up in Port Nyanzaru with my Mother. I did not know the clan though I was born into it. I believe I am the last of the Boundless Jungle clan. But perhaps that is a tale for a campfire."

Rowan nods "There'll be plenty of time for swapping stories for sure. My people are nomadic, hundreds of clans spread throughout the high forest, all constantly on the move. We live off the land, and nurture it, we hunt to restore balance to animal populations. But you probably could never tell we'd been there at all. We're quite good at...blending in."

"Oh, and call me Ruggo."

Cain silently watches Rowan's transformation into a Firbolg and the exchange which followed.

"Ruggo? How did you come by that nickname?"

"Well that is quite the change. Or is Rowan the nickname and Ruggo your actual name and should we be expect more surprises from anyone else? Govath eyes the hood pulled far forward on Cain."

"Firbolgs don't have actual names, mate. And mayhaps that is also a story for the campfire."

Storm ponders on what Govath said and realizes he's never had a good look at Cain's face with that thick hood covering it constantly...

"It is a hot morning. A bit too warm for a cloak over your head Cain, no?"

Turning to see how far they've travelled, Cain sees Leilon still in the distance. Still too close. As for his companions, he had no reason to not trust them as they had plenty of opportunities to make a move if they were not the adventurers they claimed to be.

"Yeah, you've got the right ..."

Turning to the group, he says, "Look, I know I've been suspiciously wearing these robes for ... now an awkwardly long time. I appreciate nobody has brought it up until now, but I'd prefer to leave it on for just a little while longer."

Chuckling in response to the theme the seems to be going on, he continues, "I'll explain everything over that campfire."

1d20 (12) + 4 = 16
Cain has a look around the horizon, but most specifically from the northwest towards Waterdeep, for any signs of people.

"That's good enough for me He say slapping Cain across the back. Say Storm, have you a tune to play as we walk?"

Cain looks toward the south, where the High Road can be seen in the distance, winding around the Mere of Dead Men. A handful of caravans can be seen heading in either direction in the distance, but nothing suspicious catches his eye. As for immediate surroundings, the party appears to be alone as the Sword Mountains creep ever-taller in front of them.

Storm takes a moment to unbundle his Lute case from his back, opens it and retrieves his colorful instrument. Replacing everything on his back, he tunes the instrument as the group continues to walk.

"Hmm...a tune. Let's see..."

He tries a few upbeat folk-like chord progressions and then clears his throat...

"♫♫♫
In a quiet town,
Of green and yellow and brown,
The people were upset,
For there was a Dragon threat...

And so the Lances did group,
This new adventuring troupe,
And that is how it did start,
On the day they did depart!
♫♫♫

Ooooooh!

They are the group with no nameee,
No fortune and no fameee,
They set out that very daaay,
Along their merry way!

♫♫♫
The group was given a task,
To see the Gnomes and ask,
For something to help the fight,
Against poor Leilon's plight!

To Gnomengarde they gooo,
Into the mount belooow,
They search for hidden caves,
and pray it's not their graves!
♫♫♫

Ooooooh!

They are the group with no nameee,
No fortune and no fameee,
What wonders do awaaait,
These new adventurer's fate!
♫♫♫"

Storm chuckles.

"Let us hope there will be more to that song and it doesn't end there."

After a few hours of walking the plains, the terrain begin to gets rougher around you. Grass gives way to rock, and the once-level ground begins to rise up in hills and cliffs around you. Having almost reached the base of the westernmost mountain, you anticipate your journey will be a little rougher from here on. Rowan - or "Ruggo", as you now know him - suggests taking some time to hunt and gather, before creatures and plants become more sparse.

Ruggo reaches back and unhooks the crossbow, setting a bolt and adjusting the torque. "If any of yeh fellas care to join me, feel free. But I'm just as comfortable on my own."

1d20 (7) + 6 = 13

"This one will stay behind and rest. Good luck on the hunt guide Rowan...Ruggo."

Ruggo takes off, surprisingly quiet for his considerable size. A little over an hour later, he returns, with a young doe slung over his shoulder and the location of a nearby stream. You prepare the meat and fill your waterskins before moving on.

Each party member gets: 1 Ration, 1 Water

You continue on your way, a little slower than before, heading southeast along the edge of the mountains. Other than the change in scenery, your travels are fairly uneventful. As the sun begins to descend behind you, you find a relatively flat portion of land, and figure it's probably a good place to set up camp for the evening.

"S'looks like as good a place as any. I'll start to cut up this beauty if someone will manage a fire."

"I will go collect some wood for the fire"

Govath drops off his pack and picks a direction that looks promising.

"Anyone want to help carry wood?"

Storm unloads his pack and gear.

"I will start to prepare the fire pit for your return Govath."

He begins to clear out a small patch of grass and collect large stones to make a ring.

1d20 (3) + 1 = 4
As

1d20 (8) + 2 = 10
Storm thinks about home as he tries to build the best fire pit the Sword Coast has ever seen.

It's difficult scouting for wood in this rocky terrain - Govath only manages to return with a small bundle of twigs and branches, the discard of distant trees blown here by strong winds. It should be enough, however, to cook your meal and at least have some embers to keep you warm before retiring to sleep.

Upon his return, Storm has prepared a serviceable pit. There are stones aplenty here, but digging into the ground is difficult, so he opts for a taller ring made of various stones delicately stacked one on another.

Before too long, the food is prepared, and the four of you share a meal around the fire.

"I will take first watch if no one objects."

"Fine by me, my friend, I can take whichever watch is claimed last. However, one of these nights I wouldn't be opposed to having Storm take first watch and play a light melody to sleep to."

Ruggo takes out a set of panpipes, the thickest you've ever seen and tries to play a low lonely song. "I'm not as skilled as you, Red. Jus' a hobby."

1d20 (15) - 1 = 14

"Ah a pan pipe. I had thought to bring it along with me on my way here but I wanted to travel light. I would not mind taking the first watch, I enjoy passing the time playing music and creating new melodies. It was a good way to make a few extra tips during my jungle guide expeditions."

As Rowan takes out his massive panpipes, Storm matches the key and adds a few accompanying strums.

"Where is your clan from?"

"Well I am from the Forgearm clan. We've made a bit of a name for ourselves in supplying weapons and armour for many centuries."

After a deep breath he continues on.

"Easy to pass by if you don't know to look for it. Travelling east from Waterdeep you will find it in amongst the hills on the boarder of the high forest."

"Ah that is interesting, The High Forest comes up again! I must see this place. What is the name of the town, perhaps Guide Ruggo knows of it, he has said he was from the High Forest."

"Place is called Maggolir. Good peaceful place to live. Ah well that is enough about me. Storm I believe you were going to tell us about your homeland no?"

Ruggo stops his piping for a moment. "I reckon he was gonna sing it." Then continues playing the lowest notes you've ever heard from a panpipe.

"I do know a few songs of the jungle that I learned from my Mother but they are in the Tabaxi language and won't help answer Govath's question."

Storm chuckles at that thought and then thinks for a moment. Setting the Lute down, he stands up tall and presents a exaggerated bow in his colorful cloak.

"I am Storm of Fire of the Boundless Jungle clan! Born to the beautiful, Eclipse of the Moon of the Boundless Jungle clan!"

After his showcase of an introduction, Storm begins to pace, straight back and hands clasped behind him.

"Cain may know this having met Glittering Pond, but the Tabaxi are called by the circumstances in which they exist. They are named by events that mark their clan, the locations of which they live, and signs from the stars."

Suddenly, Storms' hands flourish outwards and little stars flourish around him. Illusions.

"The Boundless Jungle clan lived deep within the jungles of Chult in the valley beneath the Peaks of Flame!"
Storm, flicks his wrists and the illusions become a small depiction of a mountain ridge piercing up from the jungle canopy.

"It is said they prospered and thrived though the lands were harsh."
Suddenly a strange creature, a bipedal reptile of sorts pops into existence, replacing the image of the mountain.

"Though one day, an omen appeared to the clan in the form of smoke..."
The mountain line appears again but this time a stream of smoke rises from it.

"The Peaks of Flame grew angry and the clan was afraid. They looked to the stars for guidance and were shown catastrophe."
The illusion changes to an image of the mountain erupting, spewing fire.

"And disaster struck. Though as hard as they tried, the Boundless Jungle clan did not make it out of that valley. They fled as fast as they could, deeper into the jungle, but the fire was faster."

"Though the clan was no more, a single Tabaxi female lived, caught alone amidst the destruction. Unable to escape, Eclipse of the Moon gave birth to her child while the sky rained down fire and the world burned around her."
Storm forms an image of his Mother carrying a bundle. She has ashen grey fur just like him.

"And this was the world in which I was born in. A Storm of Fire."

The illusions wink out of existence and Storm poses for a moment in deep thought.

"My Mother made the long and dangerous journey to Port Nyanzaru far north from the valley. It was there that she raised me. She worked as a jungle guide for expeditions mostly since a highly experienced jungle Tabaxi was in high demand. My Mother was well liked, she taught me how to play my instruments and to track the jungles. She passed away when I was 14 years of age. Complications from the fire and birth had caught up to her. There were many at her funeral that day."

Storm pauses again to scoop up his Lute and sits down next to the fire. Playing a soft melody he continues...

"I followed in my Mother's footsteps as a jungle guide and played the taverns for extra coin. I was successful at both and enjoyed it. My life has been good and I owe it all to Eclipse of the Moon. But the years spent in Port Nyanzaru and the Jungles have grown...dull. As the last remaining member of the Boundless Jungle clan, I have no ties to the jungle. And so I have travelled far to reach your shores, to see new places and document new bones."

He taps the Tome of Bones affixed to his bag.

"Speaking of which...do please keep your bones from your meal."

Ruggo realizes he has been holding the panpipes to his lips without playing, being so enthralled by the story and the colourful illusions Storm had conjured. He clears his throat and puts the instrument back in his pocket.

"Quite a tale there, mate. Harrowing. If yeh don't mind me askin', how old are yeh now?"

Storm gestures towards Cain.

"We Tabaxi age like Humans. I am 30 years of age."

"In the wise words of Govath, ah enough about this one. What of you Cain?"

"Wise words indeed"

Said while smoking his pipe, and turning his attention from to Cain.

"Indeed." Ruggo proceeds to light a cigar, then turns his attention to Cain.

It was finally time to explain himself to the group, which actually felt relieving because that would mean finally removing the heavy cloak.

"Well, my history isn't as exciting as any of yours. I live in a small settlement near Secomber, which for those who are new to this area, is east of Waterdeep ...", and turning to Storm, "and borders near the south of The High Forest".

Continuing to address the group he says, "I'm not an adventurer by any means, though I've had my share of travel. I work for a shipments branch of the kingdom, carting and shipping goods all over. Not very glorified work, but its a nice way to see new places and meet all sorts of people."

Shifting on his boulder, he pauses a beat to recount the story before continuing ...

"That was, until a few days ago. I was contacted by a private party looking for someone to make a pickup and delivery back to Waterdeep. In hindsight, I guess I should have realized the sketchiness of it, but it was on official Waterdavian letterhead and well ... the pay was really good. You see, I've been saving to retire from the travelling life to finally settle down, maybe start a business."

"Anyway, without giving it much thought I arrived just outside Daggerford and took pocession of a hooded cart packed with shipping crates emblazoned with the offical seal of Waterdeep and began my journey back. All was going well as Waterdeep crested the horizon when I suddenly rolled over a rock causing one of the crates to come falling out. As I was moving to place it back on the card, I noticed it was slightly opened and inside I saw weapons"

He pauses for a moment to give the others time to react ... but then he remembers nobody is accustomed to the dryness of shipping laws.

"Uh, right. The problem is, the movement of weapons as cargo is strictly forbidden unless in specific circumstances such as times of war or disposal, and never without a whole damn battalion escorting it. I was one man, in a cart. These weapons were stolen, and I'm the idiot who agreed to smuggle them into Waterdeep."

"Then just my luck, I see a mounted patrol in the distance coming upon me. It's not uncommon that passing patrols might inspect large cargo carts, and although that wasn't always the case, I wasn't going to take any chances. So I bolted and I have no idea what happened to those weapons."

"I ended up taking the long way around back to Waterdeep, not sure to do. I wasn't even sure who I was smuggling these goods for but before I could make a decision, they found me. At some point I was knocked out and when I came to, I was standing in some hall of what looked to be a Waterdavian noble. They kept asking me what had happened -- I tried telling them the truth -- they thought I stole the goods for myself. It was just a mess."

"I got the sense I wasn't going to be allowed to leave that place alive and, for the second time in a day, I bolted. I think I headbutted the guard next to me? I don't remember really, it was all a blur. But what I do remember is hearing the blast of something magical behind me and instinctively ducking, felt it pass just over my head as I ran. It hit the doorframe and ricocheted into the side of my head."

"From then, it was just survival. I ran, I hid in the slums for a day, I found this nasty old cloak I've been sweating in and took a flyer looking for adventurers in Leilon. And that's where I met you all."

"So now I'm assuming they're going to be looking for me, still thinking I stole those weapons for myself which is why I've been waiting to get far enough away from the highroad as possible before taking it off."

He pauses once again.

"But that's not the only reason. That blast that hit the side of my head? I don't know what it was, but it didn't leave me looking too great. In fact ..."

He removes the hood.

"It didn't leave me looking like anything"

Storm drops his lute and stutters...

"I...I have...so many...questions..."

"Uh, let me answer the obvious one. I still see, and I feel all my extremities. I believe it was an illusionary spell of some sort that hit me. Scares me to think what it would have done if it actually hit me."

"You could imagine the stares I got from the locals when I was running away."

Turning to Rowan, "Maybe you could use your disguise spell on me if we ever need to? It seemed to work pretty well, you had us all convinced."

"... or maybe I need a mask. Either way, I'm not sure how long term this is, or if its reversible. The whole reason I joined the adventure was to get away from the coast without drawing suspicion and now that I'm out here, I'm not sure what my plan is."

"I guess that...answers the question about how you eat. So if I were to touch your face, would I feel your...pieces?"

Ruggo can't stop staring, horrified, like watching a cart accident in slow motion. "Th-th-that's not how it works, mate. I can only change me..."

Storm lets out a long exhale of held breath.

"So if you are on the run, then you have turned us into accomplices as far as these people are concerned...though I suppose now that you have no face, it may be harder to identify you? Unless...do they know they have removed...your...face?"

"No, I don't think so. My head was down as I was running out, and I was quick to exit the building from a window. Other than some locals who had no idea I was being chased, I don't think anyone would have known the indirect results of the spell."

"Though, I suppose I didn't think about the fact you'd be outed as accomplices if I ever got caught. I was just in a panic and was just trying to get away. Now that I am, I could probably take my leave and find somewhere to lay low for a while..."

"N-now hold your horses just a second, mate. Your a day away from civilization if you head directly back from where you're running from. Alone out here is a death wish. We've been lucky so far, but I reckon we'll have to defend ourselves sometime before we get to the gnomes. So, get that outta yer head, yeh got that?"

Ruggo picks himself off the ground he fell on and approaches Cain with his hand outstretched.

"Yeh mind if I try something? A firbolg trick I know..."

"Uh, sure." he replies hesitantly while reaching out.

Rowan recoils and shields his eyes as if from a blinding light, yet none of the others can see why.

"I-I've never seen such... a strong presence! Indeed this is powerful illusionary magics."

"Hmm, let me give it a try..."

"There...but, the image cannot move. So you cannot move. And it won't move when you speak...or blink...and..."

Storm cancels the illusion.

"...well that won't do."

Govath, understanding some of the shipping regulations with weapons from his past job, had been nodding along with the story knowing it would have been a tricky situation to be found in.

However upon Cain removing his hood, his mouth falls open pipe just barely hanging in there and hand stopped mid scratch of his beard. Trying to collect his thoughts while the other were questioning Cain, he can be heard grumbling in a deep voice to himself.

"It is like playing got your nose with the wee ones, but taken too far." Then to Cain "that is quite the predicament you have found yourself in. I have heard tale of invisible blades, but to have your face..."

"What is your plan to gain back your um, face?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. This all happened so fast."

Taking a second to think, he finally continues, "I suppose wearing a mask would be an easy way to conceal this, though I would need to find one."

" If you're all concerned about what danger me being around is going to be, I could head out in the morning. Start a new life in Phandalin? Either way, I'm going to have to start looking for powerful spell users who could shed some knowledge on this whole situation."

"I am not concerned at all. If some guard catch up with you, we will deal with it in stride."

"A mask would be a good start, perhaps the gnomes might be able to fashion one to your liking. Also, I could ask around when we we are back in Leilon, I have a possible contact there, if you want. See if the guards are searching for you and what they know."

"The gnomes we seek're also magic users. I reckon they might know a thing or two about how to uh...uncurse yeh."

"And I suppose the money from the contract couldn't hurt either, seeing as I'm near broke. Will likely need some payment to help remove this."

"Well this certainly is a more than this one bargained for when stepping on your shores. Yet all I can think of are the songs and poems there will be to tell about it! I came for excitement, inspiration and discovery and now I am certain there will be no shortage. And that is good."

Turning to Ruggo he adds...

"So Guide Ruggo...we have heard the wild tales of us three, it is time for you to step up and amaze us. But to be honest, I do not think you can top the faceless one."

Storm recovers his Lute once more and plucks a new, more lively tune.

Once again at all eyes (and a fleshy blank face) on him, Ruggo gets noticeably uncomfortable. He fidgets with his hat and plays with a twig he finds on the ground beside him.

"Well, if yer wanting more excitement don't lookit me. Nothin really to tell. Grew up in the forest, learned the land. Left about..." he scratches his bearded chin "...ten years ago now. Jus' been making my way in the world, doin what I know."

"Do Firbolgs live in groups? What about family and friends? What made you want you become a guide?"

"Yeah, there are hundreds of firbolg clans in the High Forest, and we mingle whenever we cross paths. We're the keepers of the forest, tending to the plants and animals, hunting to reduce overpopulation. It's better for the land to have many small clans constantly on the move. We don't take everything from a place and leave it empty like...some other species."

Ruggo gets noticeably more comfortable as he talks about home. "I do have family, sure. Friends too." and turning to Cain to address his last question, then not knowing where to look since there are no eyes to make contact with, shifts focus to the ground and the twig he's been scraping the earth with, "...and I ain't a guide. I'm a ranger."

"What brought you out of the forest?"

"Well, y'see, once a firbolg comes of age they have to leave the clan and go out into the world."

"And when do you get to return? A clan wouldn't exist if all members had to leave when they came of age never to return."

In response to Rowan's correction, he asks, "What's the difference between being a guide and being a ranger?"

"Oh I can go back anytime, it's a tradition that's generally seen as...an opportunity to broaden ones horizons. Yeh go out and experience all the world has to offer, and then you can choose to return to the life you knew...or not."

Storm takes in all their stories, keeping the details in mind for future song inspiration. As the conversations continue, Storm puts aside his Lute and begins collecting the bones from dinner.

"If you will excuse me, this one wishes to do some work before I take first watch tonight."

He takes the bones over to the remains of the deer and begins sets off to work on his Tome of Bones.

Ruggo throws another log on the fire. "And I'm doing this job jus' as you are, n' gettin my cut. I owed our esteemed Captain a favour. So I'm makin' sure we all get where we need to go."

It was getting late and Cain was beginning to feel the exhaustion from the stress of being on the run. It also seemed clear that Rowan didn't want to elaborate much about himself, so he thought it might be a good time to call it.

"I guess we have a big day tomorrow, so we should probably pack it in?"

Storm calls over from this study of the deers skeleton, bones laid out around him.

"I will take first watch, just going to finish up here and get cleaned up."

1d20 (11) + 2 = 13
Storm spent some time after dinner to document the Deer into his Tome of Bones.

The four of you settle in for the night, doing your best to get comfortable on the rocky ground. Storm stays up under the twinkling stars to keep watch.

1d20 (18) + 3 = 21
Storm plays soft melodies on the Lute while keeping watch around camp. He occassionally gets up and does a walk around the perimeter.

You keep your eyes and ears open as your companions drift off to sleep, your music easing them into peaceful slumber. As you glimpse up at the stars peeking out between the clouds above, your attention is drawn downward slightly to the cliffs ahead of you. Far in the distance, some winged creature takes off from a cliff and flies in a wide circle before heading further around the mountain and out of your sight. However, nothing comes near your campsite, and little more than the softly howling wind reaches your ears.

Govath rouses from his sleep for the second watch as Storm prepares his bedroll and passes out quickly after an extra long day.

1d20 (3) + 3 = 6

The warmth of the fire and the comfort of the pipe lure Govath into a drowsy state, and a couple of times through his watch he catches himself dozing off. Nonetheless, the dawn arrives without any cause for concern, and the remaining three awake feeling refreshed and ready for the second day's journey into the Sword Mountains.

4th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

Storm slowly wakes up, stretching and looking up at the sky. A clear sky is a much better improvement than the last few days. He packs up his bedroll and is grateful it was decently crafted.

"Hope you all slept well last night. Govath did you see anything during your watch?"

Turning towards the group.

"There was the sillouette of a winged beast soaring over the mountains during my watch. It flew beyond the peaks and out of sight. It was in the distance but let us be mindful of this."

"Hm, if you could see it flying so far away it would have to be very large. May very well be that dragon everyone's talking about. Right, well, let's off then."

Cain stretches, feeling great for the first day this week he won't be sweating beneath his cloak. Packing everything away, he checks if everything is in order before falling in line with Rowan.

"Ready to find some Gnomes."

Your morning travels are exceptionally pleasant, the sun overhead making it feel warmer than it actually is. The cool mountain breeze reminds you that if ever your travels take you higher up the mountains, you may want to invest in some warmer clothing. Nonetheless, the clear day and your regular traveling clothes are enough to keep you comfortable as you set off further into the mountains.

Before long, the patches of grass you were still seeing from time to time disappear completely as you enter a valley, mountain on the left and rocky hills on the right. The terrain becomes more and more difficult, and by late afternoon you enter an area where frequent rock slides have left the ground beneath your feet jagged. To continue this way could easily add an extra half a day to your trip.

Looking around, you notice to your left that a steep incline leads up about 18 feet to a narrow ridge, no more than 10 feet wide. The ridge seems to continue off into the distance, and may be a faster way of traversing this particular valley.

Ruggo points out the ridge to the others. "How'd you boys feel about adding a dash of peril, get the blood pumping?"

Looking up at the ridge line "Beats walking on these ragged slags. We'll be needing new footwear soon enough, and the ridge might provide some cover if any rocks decide to come tumbling down into this valley."

Storm considers both options. The narrow, more exposed ridgeline or the more concealed but precariously rocky valley. He knows he's quite nimble and can manage a little terrain difficulty but casts a side glance at the older dwarf...

"This one is capable of either. But we should consider other factors. We may be exposed to that winged beast if we travel on the ridge. Though who knows what things lurk here in the valley. I think the valley may be a safer option ironically though it would depend on how succesful we are in finding food and water. However I leave the choice to our trusty guide."

"This is slow going if we stay down here. We'd be taking our time, make sure nobody twists an ankle. "

"Then let us take to the ridge. The breeze up there will be a welcome. And perhaps we will have a better chance at spotting the entrance to Gnomengarde from there. Though no songs for now as to not attract unwanted attention I think."

1d20 (18) + 4 = 22
Ruggo scans the ridge as far as he sees it go, looking for cracks or loose rocks along its way.

The ridge seems solid and stable as you take the time to carefully observe it, leading you to believe that the rock slides which formed the terrain before you happened long ago. The shape of the surrounding hills must divert the majority of rainwater elsewhere, preventing the rocks in this valley from being smoothed by erosion.

"Ridge it is, mate. If you don't mind me going first..." Ruggo takes the ridge route.

Storm follows behind humming a new tune softy...he tries a few bars;

"Toss a coin to your guide...oh valley of...rocks...no...that doesn't quite work."

He tries again...

"Toss a coin to your ranger...yes...maybe I can work with that."

He goes back into that deep thought look when he thinks about new rhymes and melodies.

1d20 (1) + 3 = 4
Govath takes up the rear scanning around for any unwanted watchers.

Govath does his best to stay vigilant, but it's too pleasant a day to really try that hard, and so he primarily continues onward enjoying the sunshine and the clear mountain breeze, giving very little thought to the possibility of hazards around the party.

The four of you carry on, pushing forward along this ridge, taking care to stay close to the side of the mountain to avoid any unfortunate accidents. An hour or so passes before you hear a faint noise carried on the wind. It seems to gradually grow around you, until your ears recognize it as a pleasant melody - two voices harmonizing and getting ever-closer. The song has an enchanting quality to it, and the four of you feel strangely drawn toward it...

1d20 (7) + 1 = 8

1d20 (7) + 4 = 11

1d20 (7) + 1 = 8

1d20 (13) + 4 = 17

1d20 (5) + 2 = 7
First WIS check.

1d20 (12) + 2 = 14
Second WIS check.

1d20 (8) + 2 = 10

1d20 (5) + 2 = 7

Ruggo's eyes dart around looking for the source of the song, when he notices Storm, Govath and Cain slowly tilt their heads upward. Looking above, he sees an outcropping of rock in the distance which Govath seems to have missed when keeping an eye out. Slowly descending from the platform above are two figures, vaguely humanoid in appearance, save for the large wings which carry them gently to your level, about 30 feet from the edge of the ridge on which the party now stands. Each of them is singing one part of the beautiful harmony now very clearly heard all around you.

Ruggo notices his companions' eyes track the creatures descent, gaze fixed and unwavering. Suddenly, Storm seems to come to himself, shaking his head for a moment and looking around as though he had forgotten where he was. Both he and Ruggo realize the severity of their predicament when Cain and Govath each begin to walk slowly toward the edge of the ridge.

Ruggo takes a shot at the first Harpy, injuring it pretty heavily - but it continues its song, luring Govath over the edge onto the jagged rocks below. With a grin, the Harpy descends upon its prey, dealing significant damage to the prone Govath below. Storm manages to snap Cain out of his trance with some Bardic Inspiration and a quick claw attack, and Cain leaps down into the valley in pursuit of the first Harpy. Landing gracefully, he uses his momentum to launch two strikes at the Harpy, leaving it bloodied. One swift crossbow bolt from Ruggo's weapon puts the creature out of its misery.

The Harpy dead, Govath comes to his senses. "Ah Cain did you fall down here as well?" he quips, launching an arrow from his shortbow into the remaining Harpy's leg. "Haha, no, just came down to wake you up", Cain replies, giving a wave of gratitude to Ruggo above (which Storm misinterprets as being directed at him.

The remaining Harpy, no adventurers left in its thrall, makes a desperate attempt to pull Ruggo over the edge. "Oh no yeh don't, mangy bugger!" Ruggo yells, sidestepping its grasp. It attempts to flee, but Storm and Ruggo are too quick for it. "Not so fast, yeh ugly mug", Ruggo mutters before launching one final bolt into the creatures chest. It falls backward over the ridge, tumbling to the bottom of the valley and leaving the four adventurers alone but separated - Storm and Ruggo upon the ridge, and Cain and Govath in the valley below.

Ruggo rushes to the edge of the ridge worried about how badly injured Govath must be. "Govath! You still alive, mate?!"

"I am fine, a little banged up is all. Will need to deal with some of these wounds though. Say could you drop down a rope so Cain and I can climb back up?"

Storm helps Ruggo with the rope and calls out...

"Perhaps we should take a quick rest once we are regrouped?"

Govath proceeds to climb back up to the ledge and once up proceeds to check and bandage the harpie's claw attacks. Waiting for Cain to climb out he asks.

"So how did I end up down there? And a brief rest would be welcome."

Climbing up, Cain thanks Rowan. Turning to Govath.

"It seems these Harpies have a way with music, had us completely entranced. You, unfortunately, walked right off the ledge trying to get to one. Thankfully, Storm here smacked some sense into me before I did the same."

"I wonder if these were the winged creatures you guys saw on watch last night ..."

"Well first time I have ever walked blindly off a cliff." Govath chuckles to himself. "Thanks again for keeping me from being that creatures next meal."

"It is good to see you all are well...mostly. To Cain's point, these may have been the beasts I saw last night. They were far and hardly a speck along the night sky but regardless, we should continue cautiously along this ridge."

Turning to the whole group;

"Let us have a short rest here and continue onwards if the guide agrees."

"Yes, let's rest a short while then continue on the ridge."

"Then if you do not mind, this one wishes to document these beasts..."

Storm prepares the Tome of Bones and unsheathes his claws...

1d20 (16) + 2 = 18
Storm spends the hour documenting the bones of the Harpy.

Rowan Ruggo Rhododendron spends 0 hit dice, recovering 0 hit points.

1d20 (3) + 4 = 7
Having survived the encounter nearly unscathed, Cain takes a high point advantage and keeps a lookout for any danger while the others rest and patch up their wounds. He also pays close attention to see if he could spot any evidence of unnatural installations that would allude to the gnomes presence.

Over the course of the hour you keep an eye out, paying special attention to the cliffs and peaks above you after the last unfortunate surprise. However, you don't notice anything which worries you - just the occasional mountain goat passing by or bird overhead. Nor can you see any unnatural structures of any kind as you peer ahead of you.

As the hour passes, Storm finishes what he can of the Harpy and looks at the second one regretfully.

"Ah if only we had more time to waste today, it would have been good to finish my entry of this Harpy beast. But our task comes first. Perhaps we shall find more on the way."

He cleans up and packs his things away, satisfied with his progress.

"This one is ready to continue, when you all are ready. If anyone is in dire need of healing, I can also assist with that, but I believe our rest was enough."

Ruggo searches the corpses for any useful bolts but only manages to pull one free and intact. He wipes the gore from it with a grease rag he keeps and notches it, spending several minutes tuning his crossbow and adjusting the torque. "Shall we then?"

The four of you carry on along the ridge and are disturbed no further. Gradually it begins to descend, bringing you back down to the base of the mountain. The terrain continues to be rocky, but the roughest patch seems to be behind you and you're able to continue on at normal speed.

The day begins to cool as late afternoon turns to evening, and as the sun descends behind the western peaks now at your back, you decide it's probably about time to set up camp. You must be fairly close to Gnomengarde now, but finding the entrance is a task for daylight.

Unpacking in preparation for the night, Cain says, "Since Storm and Govath took watches last night, what say we do the watching this night, Rowan?"

And turning to Govath, "And maybe I'll come join you in looking for firewood?"

Preparing his resting area, Storm humorously thinks what would happen if they were to challenge fate and continue searching for Gnomengarde in the dark.

"Ah Cain that is a good idea, rotating watches."

Finishing with his gear he adds;

"I will begin preparing the cooking pit again."

"Not much light left, but I'm gonna see if there's any game close by. I reckon it'll be rations tonight but I got an itch." Ruggo gives a wink and a lopsided grin as he looses the crossbow and heads off ahead.

1d20 (16) + 6 = 22

As Ruggo heads off to hunt, Storm calls after him.

"Try to find another deer tonight!"

Ruggo returns as the last of the sunlight begins to fade. The hunt was more difficult, your new environment being less suited to the majority of animals found around the Sword Coast, but he manages to snag a large mountain goat which should provide enough for a couple of meals. During his hunt he is also able to discover a mountain stream not too far from where you set up camp - you are all able to go and fill up your waterskins before settling in.

Each party member gets: 2 Rations, 2 Water

"Perhaps we will have better luck tonight with the fire wood, and we can have a magnificent fire to cook over."

2d20kh1 (13, 9) + 1 = 14

Near the stream where you are able to fill your waterskins, a handful of small trees is growing along the bank. Between Govath and Cain, a hearty amount is collected - enough to keep the fire warm enough to combat the coolness of the night.

Ruggo slams the goat down on a large slab of rock near Storm and begins skinning and butchering slabs of meat from the bone. "Here's another specimen for yeh Red. Get many goats in the jungles of Chult?"

Storm prepares the fire with the abundance of wood that was collected.

"There are few that live above the canopy of the jungles along the mountains but are rarely seen down in the jungle. There are many beasts that dwell in the jungle that would gladly feast upon a goat. But the goats of your lands certainly look different and will make a great addition to the Tome. Please try to preserve the bones."

During the evening after eating a deliciously prepared Goat, Storm excuses himself to do some work on his Tome. As he grabs his tools he says;

"One night or sometime, I can teach you a dice game played in Port Nyanzaru. It is called Jungle Jinx. However this one wishes to work on this goat before retiring for the night."

1d20 (11) + 2 = 13
Storm spends two hours before bed documenting the Goat in the Tome of Bones.

After finishing his meal Govath says.

"Think I'm going to crash early tonight. That tumble off the cliff took a little more out of me than I thought. Nothing a good sleep will not fix."

Seconds later you hear the steady snore of the dwarf as he dreams of enchanting melodies.

Reset Death Saves

1d20 (10) + 4 = 14
While everyone settles in for the night, Cain begins the first watch.

Keeping the fire going strong and his cloak wrapped tightly around him, Cain settles in for first watch under the twinkling stars above. The half-moon above shines a dim light on the party's surroundings, visible high over the peaks of the Sword Mountains. Little more sound reaches Cain's ears than the gentle howl of the mountain winds and the distant sound of the stream to the east. The first watch goes undisturbed.

1d20 (9) + 4 = 13

The second watch passes much like the first. Ruggo occasionally hears small rocks falling, the sound echoing from the valley traversed the previous day. The party remains safe until dawn, and awakens feeling refreshed and ready to hunt down the elusive settlement of Gnomengarde.

5th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

While packing up bedrolls and other belongings, the clouds begin to roll in once more, blocking out the sunshine so thoroughly enjoyed the day before. The party is in for a cold, wet day, as the rain begins to fall just as they set off in search of their destination.

"Eyes open for signs of civilization. Oh and uh, does anyone speak gnomish?"

Storm quickly bundles his belongings and covers his valuables inside his cloak. Looking up at the inevitable downpour, he slightly wishes for the protective canopy of the jungle above his head.

"This one does not know the language. I have met many gnomes that speak common, but I do not know about these Rock Gnomes of Gnomengarde. This may prove to be a unique challenge."

Packing everything away, Cain pats himself down to make sure everything is where it should be.

Raising his hand, "I speak enough Gnomish to hold a conversation. Had to work with a lot of them during my shipping routes."

"Hm, well I'd make you the face of this group knowing that, if uh..."

Pulling the heavy hood over his head once again, "It's okay, I still have this until we find a mask or some other solution."

You know at this point that the mysterious Gnomengarde must be somewhere nearby, but since so few people have actually visited it, its exact position is unclear. Eager to find shelter from the increasingly-heavy rain, you set about looking for signs of civilization in this remote area of the mountains.

1d20 (20) + 4 = 24

1d20 (1) + 1 = 2

1d20 (9) + 6 = 15

1d20 (17) + 3 = 20

Ruggo scans the rocky earth for any sign of tracks, but it's an exercise in futility. Not only is is pouring rain, but the rocky earth here doesn't sustain much of an imprint to begin with. In time, it occurs to him that these Gnomes are known for being reclusive and probably don't venture far from their settlement often, if at all.

Storm manages to find enough footholds to get up to higher ground. Peering ahead, he is unable to see any cave openings, but gets a better look at the stream, which seems to wind its way around a bend in the mountain on which he's currently perched.

Govath wanders along the rock wall, tracing his fingers against it as he walks along, humming the Harpies' song from the day before. After a while, he realizes he hasn't been paying much attention, but figures if there had been a cave, surely he would've noticed it.

Cain keeps a sharp eye out for any danger and does spot a couple of Harpies on a distant cliff. Much to his relief, after a few moments they take off and fly in the opposite direction.

Govath yells back to the group

"Any luck?"

Storm climbs down from his perch and regroups with the party. Shouting over the downpour he informs them of what he say.

"The stream of water we sourced yesterday continues to wind forward through the mountain but takes a bend a little further up. I did not see anything else however it does occur to me that perhaps these Gnomes may live near this water source. Perhaps following the river a little while may yield a discovery. Guide Ruggo, should we scout it to at least the next bend?"

"Yeh, let's follow the river, fill up our skins while we're at it."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"If we leave our waterskins opened, they will fill themselves at this point..."

Storm wipes the rain from his eyes.

You make your way down to the bank of the stream and take note of the fact that it seems to be flowing southwest, partially in the direction which you came from. You decide the wisest course of action would be to head upstream to find the source. You follow it for a couple of hours, coming across multiple areas where the flow joins other streams at various forks. The shallow stream you were once following is more like a small river now, and as it bends deeper into the mountains, you begin to hear the sound of a waterfall echoing off the walls of stone.

Along the way, you stop to fill up your waterskins.

Each party member gets: 1 Water

Ruggo turns to the group and grins. "Anyone ever been behind a waterfall?"

Cain thinks back to his journies, "Funny enough, a few ..."

"Why? A rock face is behind a waterfall."

"Oh my friend...you'd be surprised."

As your party begins to see around the curved wall of rock, a beautiful sight meets your eyes. Erosion from a tall waterfall in the distance has carved out a large natural concavity from which the river originates. The roar of the waterfall creates a cloud of mist as it plunges into a large pool of water below, inside of which rise two small islands covered in two-foot-tall mushrooms of red, green and purple. Several small cave openings overlook the pool from rocky ledges twenty to thirty feet above. What little sunlight is pushing through the clouds is blocked by the surrounding mountains (and thankfully, a good amount of the rain is too), but the giant mushrooms appear to cast a dim, bioluminescent glow, giving their surroundings an otherworldly aura.

1d20 (18) + 4 = 22
Ruggo keeps his eyes peeled for any movement and signs of life.

"That is a sight to behold. Just to be sure, we don't suspect there will be any hostility right? I am interested in seeing their town but I wonder if they will have an inn suitable for our...size."

"I don't think we should, the contract would have stated otherwise? Let's try to look as friendly as possible."

As Ruggo's eyes peer around, jumping from cave opening to cave opening, he doesn't spot any signs of movement. Additionally, it's hard to hear much over the roar of the waterfall. It seems as though any Gnomes who may be residing here are staying warm and dry inside.

"Perhaps when we are under the cover from the rain, I will retrieve my Lute and play a jolly tune to announce our presence in a friendly way. Assuming they haven't already spotted us from that network of cave entrances."

"Sounds like a plan. Cain, stay in front with me in case negotiations are in order."

Cain nods, "Sounds like a plan. And we're entering their lands, they've absolutely already spotted us so its probably best that we don't look like we're trying to hide our presence."

The four of you advance along the river to the edge of the pool. To your right, across the water is a ledge about 30 feet high, atop which is one of the cave entrances. Ahead of you, across the pool and in front of the waterfall, appears to be some kind of rope bridge extending between two more ledges, each a little shorter than the first. Partially accessible without crossing the pool is a fourth ledge, about the same height as the ones connected by the rope bridge. Finally, directly to your left you see another ledge - except this one has what appears to be a walkway hewn out of the rock, which provides an easy path up to the cave opening at the top.

Ruggo points to the walkway on the left and says to Cain, "Looks like that's the easy way up, unless we start mountain climbing."

Storm looks at the path leading up to the ledge on the eastern side.

"It may be strange if we approach their town by climbing up their walls. We should stick to that path there and see if there are some guards or civilians we can talk to."

Storm pauses for a moment and does a quick turn.

"It has been a while since this one has been the guide, I think I have my cardinal directions skewed."

Pointing again to the path leading up to the cave; "That should be West."

Storm sees Ruggo looking at him strangely.

"Sorry, sometimes it helps me get my bearings when I speak it out loud...shall we?"

"Ok, Red. Yeah, let's get up there outta the rain and see what kind of hospitality Gnomes are known for." He takes the path up the rock face.

The four of you turn left and walk up the path leading to the cave opening above. Peering inside, you see a short hallway, its ceiling a mere seven feet above the ground, dimly lit by a couple of oil lanterns hung on some kind of pulley system. The hallway seems to branch, a path to the left opening to what appears to be a small room, and the path straight ahead leading to a fork. The only sound you hear is the roar of the waterfall echoing through the tunnel.

Starting to feel a little awkward as if stepping into someone's unlocked house unannounced, Cain with moderate volume, says down the hall, "Hellooo? We're here on behalf of the Lances of Leilon."

No voice echoes back in response, but you think you hear the faint sound of gears grinding and something clicking into place, barely audible over the ever-present sound of water crashing into the pool outside.

"Back home, having tall ceilings is a sign of wealth. Do you think this is considered fancy for tiny gnomes?"

Storm stands a little awkwardly trying to avoid the lanterns.

"And these lanterns. If we follow the pulley system they are affixed too, surely there will be a gnome at the end."

"It is a tight squeeze in this hallways, maybe Cain should go first since he speaks their language."

"Hm, maybe Rowan should go first. I don't think my ... face ... will be the best thing they see if we happen upon them. We'll stick close together, so I should be able to hear and communicate from second position."

Cain stacks up behind Rowan

"I was kinda hoping one of you is skilled at finding and disarming uh....defenses."

Govath eager to be some place dry again.

"I will head first and keep an eyes out. I am fairly used to doing work underground."

1d20 (12) - 1 = 11
Govath checks for any traps along the path they was walking.

1d20 (6) + 6 = 12

Govath pushes his way to the front of the line, Cain falling into position behind him, prepared to negotiate in Gnomish as needed. Ruggo falls in line behind Cain, and Storm brings up the rear.

Storm quickly and quietly darts down the left hallway to get a quick glimpse at the room beyond, carefully lowering his head to avoid hitting any hanging lamps. As he peers in, he sees what appears to be a dining area - several tables and chairs sized for Gnomes are littered about the room, and a wooden cabinet sits against the wall to the far right.

The rest of the party marches cautiously forward, reaching the end of the hallway. As soon as Govath passes the corner, a loud scream pierces the air, something between a battle cry and a shout of terror...

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH"

Before Govath can even take in the scene, a crossbow bolt comes flying toward him.

It sinks into his shoulder with a thud, and as he looks up, he sees a strange sight indeed - in the middle of a small room to his right, there seems to be four heavy crossbows mounted upon some kind of rotating platform, each one facing a different direction. A complex set of machinery is set up to load, draw and release bolts from each of the weapons, all connected to a chair mounted six feet above the platform. Atop the chair, surrounded by a ring of levers, switches and buttons, sits a female Gnome with frizzy black hair. Her eyes are wide and frantic as she shouts out once more.

"Not another step, dirty beastie!! You'll not have any more of us today, y'hear??"

Feeling the weight of Govath bounce back into him from the weight of the bolt strike, Cain shouts loudly in the direction of the voice

"rdaqr! lc'gc jgfcobr!" he shouts in Gnomish, and continuing in common, "We've come on behalf of the Lances of Leilon and Captain Reynold to discuss a cooperation between Gnomengarde and the Kingdom!"

Govath utters a few unsavoury dwarven phrases, and reaches up to yank the bolt out of his shoulder and in common says.

"We are friendly, we do not mean any harm."

The Gnome upon the device yanks two levers and the platform beneath her rotates swiftly, gears making a loud grinding noise as a new loaded crossbow points in your direction. You watch as a new bolt falls into place, dispensed from some kind of tube, into the old crossbow, and a metal hook draws back the string.

She hesitates for a moment at the sound of her native tongue, fingers hovering threateningly over a large button that you can only assume would launch another bolt. Her wide eyes narrow in suspicion as she speaks again.

""V...visitors? Y'mean y'aren't the ones what been snatchin' up my friends?""

"We have nothing to do with any snatching up of friends. We would rather be friends and possibly help if you would allow us."

1d20 (2) + 4 = 6

"Govath, I know you just got shot, but don't sound so angry mate."

Storm turns to nudge Ruggo.

"It doesn't sound like things are going to well up front...is there going to be a problem?"

Ruggo whispers back, "Our dwarf friend took a bolt to the shoulder, but a dialogue has started. If things go south, mayhaps another route to the back of this room could help."

To Ruggo

"Well you try your luck then. Stupid gnome given everyone crossbows these days."

""HEY! Who y'talkin' to?! Y'best all show yourselves before I give this beauty another test run!!""

Her hand lowers, now touching the button with her palm - she looks like she means business.

"Ruggo, there is a room back the other way, a mess hall of sorts. It appears empty. If things do go really wrong, we can fall back to that room."

"Everyone, I reckon we all move forward to be seen, she jus' wants to feel secure."

"I appreciate the alternate approach there Storm, but I agree with Ruggo, direct approach straight passed the gnome girl."

Storm shouts back from the rear over the sounds of the crashing waterfall.

"Lead the way! This will make for a great song."

Cain also enters with both hands raised, "qncerc. sh oesc'r xefo, eob lc maocrdnh xasc fo qcexc. lc'gc mcgc ao xaodgexd jgas ncfnao ---", and turning he quickly asks Rowan "--- show her the contract."

The four of you cram your way into the southern end of the room as the curious Gnome peers at you from her perch, hand never moving from the trigger button. Her eyes have a wildness to them that suggests she might be happiest using her contraption whether you're telling the truth or not. Nonetheless, no bolt fires in your direction.

She listens to Cain's words, then watches Ruggo reach into his pocket...

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! I'll admit, y'don't look much like Gnome-snatchin' beasties. But we don't get y'kind in Gnomengarde very often, and y'aren't gunna be pullin' any fast ones on me! Keep your hands where I can see 'em!

Now then, what did y'say y'were again? Prancers of Pylons or some such?"

"We're from Leilon, just west of Gnomegarde. I'm Cain, this is Rowan, Storm and ...", making an obvious gesture with he eyes, he points at the wound, "Govath".

"We were sent on behalf of the Lances of Leilon to seek an alliance between them and Gnomegarde with regards to a White Dragon. Though ... it seems like you might be having some problems of your own? Maybe could we be of some assistance?"

Cain senses an opportunity to make good with the Gnomes to help them achieve their goal of securing magical technology for Leilon.

You hear Govath mutter something in Dwarvish under his breath.

She eyes Cain warily as he offers his explanation, then seems to think for a bit before responding.

"sxwnt lrw wgwz rnl n uhmmje txcsswx fczjwx."

"Leilon. Hmmmm. Y'know, I think I do remember that name. That's the place what my relatives in Ieirithymbul goes and trades with every now and then. Bunch'a Humans and Elves and other folk there. Not for me.

Listen, we don't care much for the problems of y'folks what're out there. No White Dragon's gunna find or give two spores 'bout Gnomengarde. And we've got enough problems of our own."

"Name's Facktoré, and I built this here machine. And I won't hesitate to use it again if y'step a single toe out'a line, y'understand?"

Turning to Cain, she says...

"mal'r fd dmed e mtseo nfkc hat xesc da ncego dmc ioasfrm daoitc, eohleh?"

Ruggo whispers to Cain trying not to move his lips. "What's she sayin'?"

_Nudging Rowan in the side, Cain replies in common for the benefit of his companions, "I used to work for the trade and shipments branch for Waterdeep and have had many dealings with the Gnomes. Learning the language was a necessity to allow for clear communication."

"And you're right, a dragon might not suddenly come storming in here but --- ", gesturing to the groups very diverse racial composition, "--- there are a lot of other people out there who are pretty terrified about it."

"All we're hoping for is to talk about possible tech, inventions, what have you, that could aid in the defense of the coast. Maybe in exchange, we can help you? You mentioned something snatching your friends ... is that why it seems awfully quiet here?"

Facktoré pauses to give thought to Cain's words. Finally, her hand relaxes off the button. She pulls out a wrench from a belt around her waist and clambers down from her perch and immediately begins adjusting various pieces of the device.

"Alright, y'don't seem like anything I gotta worry about so this conversation is over. I just got an idea for how I can double this baby's firin' power and I gotta get it done before I forget.

If y'serious about helping out Gnomengarde, y'need to talk to Fibblestib and Dabbledob across the river. They seem t'have a better handle on the situation than any of us. I'll let y'pass, just don't touch anythin' and don't disturb me at my work."

"Across the river? That mean we gotta find a way to the rope bridge through these tunnels?"

The Gnome doesn't even look up from her work as she responds.

"Y'welcome to wade across the pool instead, if y'prefer."

"Let's take Facktoré offer and proceed through the caves, over the bridge we saw from the ground. Before she changes her mind."

Turning to the gnome he asks;

"These two that you mentioned, are they your leaders?"

You hear the loud snapping of a heavy crossbow's drawstring, and then a sharp exclamation of minor pain from the Gnome crouched over it.

"Iegn bessfd, dmcrc fbfadr!

I suppose y'could consider 'em our temporary 'leaders' for the time bein'. Now would y'get out of here already?!"

Govath chuckles to himself at the gnomes slight misfortune there.

"Haha, what goes around comes around."

Cain chuckles and says just loud enough for the group, but towards Storm, "She called you an idiot."

"Anyway, we should probably get going before she decides to use that weapon again ..."

"Lead the way, Cain."

The four of you carefully edge your way around Facktoré's dangerous contraption and continue into the hallway on the other side. You hear the sound of the waterfall growing louder once more as the hallway curves toward a stairway which leads to one of the ledges you spotted outside. To the left is another hallway, which leads to a door at the far-end, and another branch on your right.

A lot of things happen at once as you round the corner heading north toward the rope bridge.

First, as Ruggo casts Detect Magic, he is immediately aware of a magical aura saturating the air all around him, chaotic and blended. It's hard to pick out any one thing because because it all seems so fleeting, like invisible rivers coursing every which way at once. Suddenly, the party hears a voice behind them...

"Now hold on here, what the hell yeh tryin' to pull, mate?"

In front of the party is a cavern with a ten-foot-high ledge, on top of which stand two Gnomes who snap to attention at the sight of you. Each of them quickly takes a defensive stance.

"lma iacr dmcgc?!"

"Who goes there?!"

The party's eyes dash back and forth, ahead and behind - sure enough, behind you stands...Ruggo. He has a confused expression on his face.

"Listen, mate, I understand that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but this is goin' a little too far!"

"What the hell indeed, mate."

The figure before you glows with a magical aura as chaotic and unclassifiable as the rest of the atmosphere around you. Meanwhile, as the party hesitates in confusion, the Gnomes above seem to be getting impatient. The male turns a small wand toward you all.

"Identify yourselves at once!!"

"Listen, friend, we're going to have to work this out, but it seems to me that there's a more pressin' matter up ahead - perhaps we talk to the Gnomes first, 'n' then settle up this business after."

The Ruggo in the middle of the party turns to the others. "There's strange magics in the air, but he seems like a pretty nice fella. Cain you mind negotiatin' with those angry gnomes?"

Cain looks back at the fake Rowan and back at the real one and whispers, "What the hell ... ?"

Turning to the two gnomes above them, Cain calls up, "lc'gc jgfcobr aj ioasciegbc, rcod jgas ncfnao. lc'wc engcebh scd lfdm jexdagc e jcl sfotdcr eia, eob rmc'r fordgtxdcb tr da jfob jfuuncrdfu eob beuuncbau. latnb dmed uc hat dla?"

And continuing in common as he turns and points at the clone, "And is this your doing? Its very impressive."

Storm looks back and forth between the two Ruggos, amused by the whole ordeal. He turns to one that had appeared behind him and says;

"Ah Leader Rowan! How did you get behind me and this...imposter in front of me. I must not have been doing a very good job at watching the rear."

Storm purposely uses leader instead of guide and Rowan instead of Ruggo.

The female Gnome turns to the male one and speaks...

"qai, dmfr xnaekcb aoc koalr atg neoiteic - eob cwco rasc aj atg oescr! fr dmfr qarrfunc jag e rmeqcrmfjdcg? ba dmch rqcek ed enn?"

"mal ba hat czqcxd sc da koal dmed, tnne? f's oa rmeqcrmfjdcg. atg agbcgr egc xnceg!"

As the party moves forward into the cavern (an extra Ruggo in tow), the male Gnome turns once more to speak, wand never lowering.

"Listen, intruders - our orders are to destroy any shapeshifters on sight! I don't know what you suppose may be our doing, but unless you can prove that you are not shapeshifters, we will have no choice but to blast you into oblivion!"

The Ruggo bringing up the rear turns to Storm, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What's this 'leader' nonsense? And I told yeh, call me 'Ruggo'. If this whole thing is some kinda weird joke you lot are playin', I can't say this is the best time for a laugh."

"Ah, they have a shapeshifter problem. Well that explains it. Looks like the buggers can read minds or memories too."

Storm turns to the party and what he believes is the real Ruggo and gulps...

"This one thinks...we are...properly fu'xketh."

Whispering to Storm, "How does one prove that they're not a shapeshifter?"

Beginning to understand the situation a little more, Cain continues his dialogue with the pair of Gnomes, "Pog and Ulla is it? Let's just take a second to just figure this out. Factore mentioned something was kidnapping the inhabitants of Gnomengarde? And you suspect it might be this ... shapeshifter?"

Turning to the group, and specifically looking at the Rowan behind them, "Clearly there is one amongst us already.", and looking back and forth between the two of them, "Now the question is ... which one of you is the shapeshifter?"

"Now that's a real walamazoo ain't it? Hm, the fake one is likely to claim to be the real one, so I'll just say I'm a fake! ....wait, that won't work."

"Now let us think about this logically under the...supervision of our Gnome friends here. Now I do not know much about this kind of magic but such a thing surely requires concentration or at least consciousness. And I know the real Ruggo would do what's best for the party."

Turning his head between the two Ruggos he pats the rapier under his cloak.

"Let's knock them both out."

"You know, that isn't actually a half-bad..."

However, that particular Ruggo never finishes his thought, because all of the sudden, he vanishes from your sight - dispersing into the air like the fine mist covering most of the inside of this cavern.

"W-what just happened??"

"bfb aoc aj dmc dlfor ytrd...bfreqqceg??"

Govath being slightly fed up with the gnomes antics from the previous room turns to the gnomes and stares down his nose.

"Very funny gnomes. Shoot people full of bolts make illusions. Can we just pass already."

Storm dusts off his hands with a grin and then pats Ruggo on the back.

"This one never doubted you for a moment."

Following Storm's comment, "Same ... " and quickly turning to Ulla, "Yes, it would appear so. Now that we're all very aware that a shapeshifter is amongst us, maybe you could begin telling us what's going on, or allow us to pass to discuss the matter with Fibblestib and Dabbledob? You're welcome to join us, of course."

1d20 (15) + 4 = 19

While the gnomes take however long needed to contemplate his request, Cain turns to Rowan and asks, just loud enough for them to hear, "Please give me the contract."

"Anyone care to fill me in on what just happened. Was that any of you pulling a prank on us?" Govath asks the group.

"No, there's something fishy going on here. Factore had mentioned something was stealing gnomes away, and now these two are talking about a shapeshifter who, until a moment ago, was clearly among us. Makes me wonder if the two are connected", he answers while waiting for Rowan to hand over the contract.

"Although whatever it was seemed to disappear. So this shapeshifter must have the ability to turn invisible, but why then sneak about as one of us?"

"Do you mean to claim that the twin of that one over there was not with you when you entered?"

A horrified expression slowly dawns on both of the Gnomes' faces at the thought.

"We only know of the one that is with us. Anything else beyond that could be anything you imagine."

The female Gnome, which Cain has identified as Ulla, looks at her companion with pleading eyes.

"qai, dmch rccs da koal jexkdagÉ - hat eob f uadm koal dmch latnbo'd uc rdeobfoi mcgc gfimd oal tomegscb toncrr rmc jcnd dmch bfbo'd qarc e dmgced."

The male Gnome, Pog, considers her words for a moment, then addresses the party, finally lowering his wand.

"My apologies if my suspicion is unwarranted, but Gnomengarde is going through a bit of an ordeal right now, and we rarely have outsiders visit even in the best of times. The worst part is, we know very little of the threat which we are up against. But if your intention is to help, you are right to seek out Fibblestib and Dabbledob.

But tell me - are any of you capable of manipulating objects at a distance?"

Govath looks at his companions.

"That would be a no for me."

Storm regrets not mastering the technique of Mage Hand.

"This one cannot."

"Not one of my skills, mate."

Nodding his head Govath looks at each of his companions and feels better, despite getting shot, knowing these youngsters are not able to do everything.

"Well let us continue on and find these gnomes who can finally give us a straight answer."

He continues on down the North tunnel. Keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious. "Keep close we can not have any one of us get picked off for straying from the group."

Pog lets out a little sigh.

"Well, I had better accompany you then - Ulla, lfnn hat uc engfimd ao hatg alo jag e jcl sascodr?"

Ulla gives him a little nod. Pog slips his wand into his coat, turns and lowers himself down the ten-foot ledge, now standing on the ground of the misty cavern with you all. He motions for you to follow and heads out of the opening to your right, towards the roar of the waterfall beyond.

"Hold up, is Ulla safe by herself here, what if she is the imposter when you return?"

"Ulla may be the newest of us, but she knows how to handle herself just fine. Besides, we're not going far - I'll be back in two flaps of a hummingbird's wing."

Sharing Govath's concern, Cain jogs over to Ulla up on the ledge, "Rowan was with us the entire time and the shapeshifter still managed to sneak up on us. We can't take any risks."

Pulling something out of his backpack, he hands it to Ulla, "kccq dmcrc lfdm hat er qgaaj. e rmeqcrmfjdcg xeo aonh sfsfx hatg naak, oad hatg xaodcodr."

Ulla nods toward Cain, taking something from his hand and shoving it in her pocket.

Pog leads onward out the eastern cave opening. The sound of the waterfall is deafening as you reach the edge of the rope bridge. It's hard to tell if it's still raining since you all become damp with mist within seconds of stepping outside.

The Gnome stops, turns around, and shouts over the noise...

"This bridge wasn't exactly designed with folks your weight in mind - it's probably best if we cross one-at-a-time!"

With this, he nimbly springs forward, jogging his way to the other side with ease.

Shouting over the noice, Storm asks;

"WHY DO YOU THINK THEY WANTED TO KNOW IF WE COULD MANIPULATE OBJECTS AT A DISTANCE!?"

Ruggo yells back over the din of the crashing falls, "I HAVEN'T THE SLIGHTEST, RED! I'M MORE CONCERNED THAT I CAN'T MANIPULATE MY WEIGHT RIGHT NOW!"

"WE SHOULD PROBABLY GO LIGHTEST FIRST!" , Cain shouts while pointing at Storm.

Shouting from the front. "WHAT? I THINK THE SMALLEST SHOULD GO FIRST!"

"THE TALLEST?! ARE YOU MAD?"

Storm shouts into Govath's ear to be heard over the raging falls.

"Govath, you have not been having the best of luck on our journey so far and this bridge looks as rubbish as a dried xulua fruit on the summer's solstice. You are brave to go first, it is admirable. I will pray for Ubtao's blessing as I watch you cross!"

You use a bonus action to grant 1d6 Bardic Inspiration die to -T. Once within the next 10 minutes, -T can roll the die and add the number rolled to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw they make. Once the Bardic Inspiration die is rolled, it is lost. A creature can have only one Bardic Inspiration die at a time.

Yelling in Storm's ear. "ALRIGHT I WILL GO FIRST!"

As Govath makes his way out onto the rope bridge, it sags significantly beneath his weight - by the time he's in the middle, the rope is a mere fifteen feet above the pool below. Nonetheless, it seems to hold well-enough, and you faintly make out his form step onto the far ledge through the thick mist.

"Haha it worked!" Govath exclaims to himself. "NEXT!" _He yells back to the group.-

"Say Pog why did you ask if we could reach something far away?"

"I WILL GO NEXT. AND RUGGO, WHEN YOU CROSS TRY TO STEP LIGHTLY. WHO KNOWS IF THIS BRIDGE CAN HOLD MUCH MORE WEIGHT."

As a bonus action, a creature (other than you) within 60 ft. that can hear you gains an inspiration die (1d6). For 10 minutes, the creature can add it to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw. This can be added after seeing the roll, but before knowing the outcome.

"(To Govath) Our workshop and Kings' chambers lie on this side of the river. As such, certain...security measures are in place. Assuming you wish to leave Gnomengarde in one piece, you'll need a little know-how and a touch of magic to speak with Fibblestib and Dabbledob"

Storm nimbly makes his way across the bridge, and it sags as before, but holds. In short order, he finds himself standing beside Pog and Govath on the other side.

"(To Pog) Ah well I will definitely need to leave. I have a project to finish one of these days. He starts to hum Storm's song to himself."

Storm chuckles as he reaches the other side.

"That bridge is worse than I thought. Are you a betting dwarf, Govath? Do you want to wager a few coins and see if the bridge collapses under Ruggo's weight?"

"Hmm, you know, I would put a silver on Ruggo taking a dip in the river below."

"Before or after halfway?"

Considering the gnomes ability when it comes to being considered excellent craftsmen. "After."

"Then I shall take before."

"WHY ARE THE TWO OF YEH LOOKIN AT ME LIKE THAT AND SMILIN?"

Govath leans close and whispers in Storms ear. "This will be good either way."

Ruggo taps Cain on the shoulder. "Good luck mate."

"Here goes nothing. See you on the other siiii--" Cain's voice trails off as the waterfall drowns it out. He does his best to keep his footing to the sides of the bridge to avoid any weak spots.

2d20kh1 (7, 14) + 4 = 18

As Cain crosses, keeping his feet to the edges of the rope bridge, it sags nearly his entire height - but it holds. Cain joins up with the others on the eastern side of the pool below.

"Aw hell," Ruggo looses the clasp on his belt holding a bullwhip and grabs tight to the handle of it. Very carefully he makes his way across the bridge.

1d20 (15) + 3 + 1d6 (6) = 24

With surprising deftness for a person of his size, Ruggo makes his way across the bridge, carefully calculating each step and spreading his weight. It's a stressful moment as he crosses the centre of the bridge - you watch as the ropes go tenser than you imagined they even could - but in due time, Ruggo sets one foot onto the ledge beside you, and then the other. Everyone is safely across.

"Ruggo, I never doubted you for a second...a second time!"

"Well, I have to admit, I wasn't sure how well the bridge would hold under such large visitors, but I'm glad to see the work of our fathers is unscathed by the strain. Come then, let's continue!"

Ruggo reaches the end of the bridge, now with a large lopsided grin plastered to his face. "Righto. Nothin' to it."

He leads you forward to the cave opening, and you immediately understand his comment about 'leaving Gnomegarde in one piece'. This cavern seems to have been fitted with two rapidly spinning devices, each with several long, sharp blades fitted to them, spaced about one foot apart. One spins clockwise, and the other, counterclockwise - and as such a pace that no creature would stand much chance of dodging through unharmed. Pog pulls out his wand.

"Quite ingenious, is it not? And take a look around - no device which you can see to turn it off, is there? Ah, but that is the best part..."

He gives a flick of his wand, and upon the other side of the spinning blades, a small, spectral hand appears, floating in mid-air. Like a conductor with his baton, Pog waves about his wand, maneuvering the hand over to the stone wall on the left. The hand dips down into a barely-visible hole in the stone.

Pog closes his eyes for a moment, and his movements become much more subtle. Suddenly, you hear a loud CLUNK, and the two rotating pillars of blades begin to slow their movement, until they become stationary. A narrow gap between rows of blades seems wide enough to allow passage - so long as the individual is careful as they squeeze through. Again, the room seems designed with Gnomes in mind, not Firbolgs.

"Ah, there we are. You'll find the workshop just past this room and up the stairs. Now, if there's nothing else, I really should get back to Ulla..."

"Yer leader lives in a workshop?"

"Certainly not! Their Majesty the Kings' chambers are beyond the workshop. But you seek Fibblestib and Dabbledob, do you not? They will explain the situation and let you know what assistance they may require, if any."

Ruggo does a quick tip of his hat, "My mistake..."

Cain watches the morbid fascination. For a group that is so well hidden in the mountains, there is some seriously dangerous defense systems, and this far into their living space?

Turning to Pog, "It might be best that you stay with us. Splitting the party when a shapeshifter is among us is probably not the best idea."

"What I wanna know is did it die? It disappeared mid sentence."

Pog points back in the direction of the bridge.

"You'll have to forgive me, but I've already split my party by escorting you all this far. I should get back to Ulla so that we can keep an eye out for this Gnome-snatching threat and watch each other's backs. I apologize again if I judged you too harshly at first. I do hope you can help resolve the...predicament that we find ourselves in. Then we might be in a better position to help you with whatever you were hoping to achieve by coming here."

"Best of luck to you as well in keeping watch. Now let us not trip and fall on one of these deadly blades."

"If you insist, just be careful."

He walks up to Pog and quietly hands him something, muttering just loud enough for Pog to hear, "f'wc ifwco tnne rasc dmcrc er lcnn. fj hat rtrqcxd rascdmfoi fr esfrr, mewc mcg rmal hat dmcs er qgaaj, utd bao'd dekc eoh jgas mcg. kccq hatgr er lcnn, rmatnb hat occb da qgawc da tr hat egc hat. iaab ntxk."

Pog looks into the darkness of your hood for a moment, eyes narrowed. He accepts, and responds in Common...

"I don't fully understand what brought you folks here, but perhaps Garl Glitterhold has seen our plight and you are the answer to our prayers. (In hushed tones) I do hope that something can be done about His Majesty Korboz. We are all terribly concerned."

"What is wrong with Korboz?"

Pog gives a little bow.

"I'm afraid it is not our way to speak ill of our beloved Kings. But...I'm sure Fibblestib and Dabbledob will be able to appraise of the situation in more detail. I bid you good day, travellers!"

And with that, he turns and swiftly heads back over the bridge behind you.

"Well comparatively he was the most useful gnome yet. Perhaps they stage the rudest ones at the perimeter so they are taken first."

Govath says thinking out loud as he starts to progress through the blades.

"Let us find these two they keep talking about. But an audience with their King Korboz may be useful. We should help them and see what opportunities arise from it."

Cain nods, "Also just remember that shapeshifter also seems to have the ability to be invisible. It could be following us this very moment. Also, what happens if it's already gotten to the two we're to meet? Or worse ... what if there's more than one."

1d20 (8) + 4 = 12
Cain just senses his surroundings to gauge whether or not they're alone.

With time and care, each of you manages to squeeze your way past the the blades and into the space beyond. To your right, a curved hallway leads to a set of stairs heading up. As Cain pauses to take in any signs of other creatures in the area, he can faintly make out a heated conversation over the roar of the waterfall. It seems to be coming from upstairs.

"f's dcnnfoi hat, beuuncbau, e reofdh geh mer dmc mfimcrd xmeoxc aj rtxxcrr! fj hat latnb ytrd mcnq sc lfdm dmc xenxtnedfaor, f itegeodcc dmed..."

"jag dmc nedmd dfsc, jfuuncdmdfu, dmed'r e dmdtqfb fbce. sh ugefo gcxenfugedag medm e stxm mfimcg xmeodm aj dmtxdmcdm! lc xeo gcqtgqadm dmc etdasedfx uegucg da dmewc dfsc!"

_Cain holds up his hand and slows, listening to the conversation.

"I can hear them up ahead. They're .... talking arguing about whether to use the ... sanity ray or ... a brain recalibrator? The second one is hard to understand, he has a heavy lisp."

"I really don't wanna get hit by either'a those. Let's not surprise 'em, ok?"

"We should approach them openly, maybe call out to them so they do not think we snuck in here."

"Cain, jus be careful mate."

"Any takers for walking blindly into this room?"

"My vote is Cain yells a greeting in Gnomish before we poke a head in."

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Cain shouts up into the room "mcnna? jfuuncrdfu? beuuncbau? lc'gc jgfcobr aj ioascoiegbc, mcgc ao ucmenj aj ncfnao. sehuc lc xasc fo?"

Whispering to Govath, Storm chuckles.

"Hey Govath, since our bet with the bridge didn't pan out. A silver coin says Cain gets pegged with a crossbow bolt."

""How about bolt vs sanity ray?""

"In that case, you get sanity ray and I shall take brain recalibrator."

"I think those were the same thing actually, I wonder what it would do to a dragon."

The conversation upstairs ends as Cain's voice echoes up the hallway. There is a few seconds of silence before you hear a response.

"wfrfdagr? eob ioascr uh dmc ratob aj fd! xatrfor jgas fcfgfdmhsutn, f rtqqarc? lcnn, xasc ao fo!"

Turning to the group with a look of confusion on his face, though nobody can see because ... well .... anyway, Cain says, "Uh. They think we're their cousin gnomes or something ... I'm not sure how to handle this, but they're inviting us in. Let's just be a little careful."

Cain begins to head up the staircase, preparing himself to peek inside the room before fully committing to entering. The names of the devices they were previously discussing didn't sound like anything he'd want to be shot with.

As you carefully make your way up the stairs, the details of the room come into view. Before you is a large cavern, lit with hanging oil lanterns like the rest of Gnomengarde. Strewn all about the place are bits of machinery - gears, levers, buttons, switches - and what appear to be partially-completed devices that you do not recognize. Two large worktables are set up in the middle of the room, a plethora of strange tools blanketing both. Seated at one is a male Gnome, balding with thick eyebrows and a grey beard. At the other sits a female Gnome with wildly pink hair and a pair of spectacles on that makes her eyes look like they're different sizes. As they see Cain crest the top of the stairs, the female one speaks.

"Hold on, theth aren't Gnometh at all! What bringth you to Gnomengarde, thtrangerth?"

"Uh, hello. Sorry for the intrusion. We're from Leilon, just west of here, on behalf of the Lances.", Cain pulls out the contract and holds it out in front of him, contents facing the duo.

"My companions and I ---", he continues while stepping into the cavern, waving the others in as well, "--- are here to discuss how Gnomengarde and the Kingdom might work together in defense of a White Dragon threat. It's known that you have quite the magical technology and we've even witnessed some of your defenses on the way here. Very impressive stuff."

"Ah! Did you enjoy the thpinning bladeth? Thoth were my handiwork. (Chuckles) I theem to recall Facktoré wath very jealouth that the didn't think of it firtht."

"Leilon, you say? That's the Human town to the west of Gnomengarde, is it not? Haven't had visitors from Leilon in...oh, let's see...probably about 10 years! But what's this about a...a 'kingdom'? Are you here at the service of a king?"

"Sorry, sometimes I stumble my words when I'm translating between languages in my head., sh eqanaifcr. We're from Leilon on behalf of the Lances to discuss a dragon sighting in the Sword Mountains and how Gnomengarde my assist Leilon by way of defense."

"Though ... speaking of kings, we were told something had happened to your Majesty Korboz?"

"Cain, do not forget the shapeshifters or invisible people. Whatever they are. The ones stealing the gnomes from their homes..."

Govath lets out one loud deep throaty laugh. "That rhymes."

"This one had no idea you were a bard too Govath."

"Oh right, and you've recently been facing problems with a shapeshifter? We've actually encountered it ourselves when we were with Pog and Ulla a little while back."

The two Gnomes share a knowing glance an expression of sadness coming over their faces. Fibblestib turns back to the party to respond.

"Gnomengarde is ruled by twin kings - Their Royal Majesties Gnerkli and Korboz. For many years we have lived in peace, left alone to our magical tinkering - until about a tenday ago."

"Thuddenly, two of our friendth just...dithappeared. Brotherth, Orryn and Warryn. Nobody thaw them for theveral dayth, though we thearched every inch of Gnomengarde. No bodieth, no remainth, nothing."

"We of Gnomengarde have very little reason to venture away from our home. The water and mushrooms outside provide all that we need to live long, happy lives. Sure, every decade or so one of our number gets curious and does a little traveling - usually to Ieirithymbul, between the western mountains - but nobody would just up and leave without even saying goodbye."

"Naturally, Kingth Gnerkli and Korboz were very contherned. They thpent all their time invethtigating the dithappearance and keeping watchful eyeth out for any thtrange happeningth. Korboz would thleep during the dayth, and Gnerkli would thleep during the nightth. Until one night...well..."

"We were here, in the workshop, working on a spectral kinesiometer - a most fascinating device that...eh...well, that's a story for another time. Suddenly, in runs His Majesty Korboz, eyes bulging and voice screaming for his brother. He stormed right past us, muttering all the while about a shapeshifting beast. We noticed that he was wounded, and we tried to help but..."

"He held up hith handth and yelled at uth to 'thtay back!'"

"He immediately went into their chambers and locked the door and...well...it appears that His Majesty Korboz has been keeping His Majesty Gnerkli prisoner. Seems to think that he's protecting his brother. I'm afraid that whatever happened seems to have severely messed with his mind.

We've tried to convince him to come out and talk, or to let His Majesty Gnerkli go, but he simply cannot be reasoned with."

"Tho it fallth to uth to find a way to rethtore our beloved King'th mind, tho thingth can get back to normal! That'th why I've been developing a brain recalibrator..."

Dabbledob holds up what appears to be a helmet with scissors attached via hinged metal arms.

"And I've been working on a more sensible solution - this sanity ray will do the trick, once it's done, I'm sure of it!"

In front of Fibblestib is some sort of funnel-shaped object with a leather sack attached to one end, with several small metal pipes threaded through small holes in the material. Neither Gnome's project looks to be particularly close to finished....

Storm nudges Govath and whisper.

"Looks like they were two different devices after all but Cain got blasted by neither. We aren't very good at this betting thing."

"Of course, if you lot have any ideas of how we might restore His Majesty's mind, we'd be very glad to hear them!"

Rowan sticks his head out the door above Cain's. "But there is a shapeshifter, mate. I doubt there's anything wrong with yer king's head."

"Oh, we do not doubt the exithtenth of the thapethifter - but it theems our King hath come in contact with the beatht and it hath left him...well, not himthelf."

"His Majesty is normally very level-headed, but something happened that night which must have shaken him very badly indeed. To imprison his own brother, and lock himself in their chambers? We must find a way to make His Majesty better again."

Taking in all this new information, Cain asks, "If we were to assist you in helping your king and resolving you of this shapeshifter problem, would Gnomengarde aid Leilon in its defenses?"

The pair once more look at each other, and then give a shrug.

"I'm not thure what good our tinkeringth and inventhunths with do againtht a White Dragon, but you're welcome to take what you like if you can help get our King'th mind back!"

"I'm sure we could offer at least a couple of useful items as repayment for any assistance that you can provide!"

"Sure, that would be great and we can talk about that more later, but first ...", Cain turns to the group, "... what do you guys think? What's our next course of action? Try to talk to the king, check in with Pog and Ulla, or somehow start hunting this shapeshifter?"

"If we talk to the king I reckon I could sense something wrong with him if it's a spell or any kind of magic. Would have to rest a short while first though."

"This is going to be an interesting challenge that will require some careful thought I think considering anyone could be the doppelganger, even one of the King's. I think we need to at least figure out the following;

First we should inquire if we have full access to move about Gnomengarde. And if there's a place to rest in case we find ourselves here an extra day.

Second we should try to speak with the King's as Ruggo said. If we can definitely conclude that neither are the doppelganger, than we will have a good advantage.

Third we should search Gnomengarde. Speak to all the locals we can find and while doing so try to find out about these missing brothers. If they are still here, or at least their remains, it may give us some clues."

Cain nods in agreement with the two, "Good ideas. Govath?"

Govath has been nodding his head slowly taking in all of the information that being dumped upon us. Hearing Cain say his name snaps him attention back to everyone in the room.

"Well we definitely need to get in and see the Kings and if they are crazy some form of restraint may be required. If they are still beyond reasoning I have always found knocking insane folk unconscious works very well. Firstly it shuts them up, and has the bonus of chance they may be themselves upon waking up."

Storm motions the group together into a small huddle and whispers.

"I think the first thing to establish is if anyone knows something about doppelgangers. Specifically this transformation magic. Surely they can appear as any one of us and can clearly read our thought. As we continue this task, I think we need to work out a method to ensure each of us are the real thing."

Storm pauses to picture the fake Rowan in his head.

"For example, something like this..."

Storm moves away from the group and crouches with his back to then. He fiddles and and moves under the cover of his cloak. A few moments later he stands and goes behind Cain. Sticking his paw deep into Cain's pack, he then backs away.

"There. Now only I know what very unique object I have placed somewhere in Cain's bag. Cain does it to Rowan. Rowan to Govath. Govath to me. And then we never let that object cross our minds until needed."

Storm chuckles.

"Or perhaps that is a little too complicated."

Ruggo contemplates a while, then says to the group,

"When my doppelgänger showed up I cast a spell t'see where and what kind of magic is in the area. I saw a blinding light comin' from him...it. It was all Chaotic, and I couldn't tell the nature of it. I can do that again if I get me an hour's rest. And I'll be able to discern who amongst us is one a those things when I do. Same with the kings."

He takes off his pack and rummages inside, then with something clenched tightly in his fist he places it in a side pocket of Govath's pack.

"But jus' in case, I reckon it's a good plan, Red."

"This is interesting. Perhaps it would be best if we can round up everyone into a group then. So you can check them all at once."

Storm laughs at the thought of a bunch of gnomes lined up for inspection.

Cain walks up to Ruggo and places something in his bag, and turning to Govath he points to his own backpack and waits for him to put something inside.

While waiting, he speaks up to the two gnomes, "Is there somewhere we can rest and set up a base of operations? Somewhere secure and ideally with a single entrance? We'll also need to attempt to talk to the kings before making out through Gnomengarde in search of the shapeshifter."

Govath digs through his belt pouch and proceeds to hide the item in Cains bag. "Also a list of all gnomes who are currently present in Gnomengarde that we can verify the total number accounted for is accurate."

"With Orryn and Warryn gone that leaves...well, twenty of us, total, including Their Most Esteemed Majesties. Kings Korboz and Gnerkli's chambers can be found by heading straight through here and hanging a right - though the door is locked, and only Their Highnesses have keys. If you head down those stairs, to your right, you'll find our resting chambers - our off-duty folks will be relaxing there. Joybell, Dimble, Panana, Uppendown and Tervaround are on kitchen tasks today, and can be found across the river, along with Ulla and Pog, who you no doubt have already crossed if you've made your way here. Facktoré...well...she's probably off messing with some dangerous device or another. You may want to watch your step around her, she's a bit of a loose cannon."

"Of courth, you're welcome to thtay in Gnomengarde and wander ath much ath you want. Folkth may be a bit on edge with the current thircumthtantheth, but they're generally friendly people. Jutht let 'em know you're here to help and I'm thure they'll athitht you however they can!"

"Thank you both, we'll be on our way then."

Turning to the group, "I was hoping for a more private chamber, which I think we should still look out for. Any of the 20 gnomes could be the shapeshifter at any moment and we wouldn't know. We need to avoid risking it being among us, so I propose that we keep the group to just the four of us going forward?"

"Anyway, should we head into the chambers and collect our thoughts in private and discuss our next course of action? Preferably somewhere with a single entrance so that any ... invisible ... entities couldn't sneak in without disturbing something.", Cain makes a subtle motion with his hands indicating a trip wire contraption.

"This is a good plan, I agree. Let us secure a place to rest so Ruggo can prepare his spell and discuss out course of action. Govath's inquiring about the numbers was a very good idea too. Now we have something to work with."

Storm bows to the two eccentric Gnomes and motions for the group to lead the way.

Ruggo nods, "Right, down the stairs and to the right are the resting chambers."

"Let us find an empty room to set up shop in. Ruggo how long can your ability last to check for an imposter?" Govath says while walking towards the rooms.

"Only around ten minutes."

"Twenty gnomes plus four of us, ten minutes will be more than enough."

"I wonder if it would be reasonable to round everyone up into a single room and do a scan. Might be too much logistics though." Cain says as they head to the resting chambers.

"Maybe if we can convince one of the King's to help them solve the problem, they will give us a royal directive to allow us to round up the citizens. But first let us settle in these chambers and pray our heads don't touch the ceiling."

"I am of the impression that rounding up all the denizens would be the fastest method. May take some time but we can then implement a buddy system so everyone can be watched."

"Agreed. With everyone in the same room, we can see first who's missing, who might be double, and more importantly if there is a double, which one is reeking with magic." Cain says will nodding over to Rowan.

"Also, somewhere we can lock everyone in, just in case the shapeshifter decides to make another run for it."

As the four of you turn right to head down the curved stairway to the Gnomes' resting area, Fibblestib and Dabbledob turn back to their respective projects (and their bickering over whose is more sensible). Walking the length of the workshop, you notice to your left a ten-foot-high ledge, atop which appears to be nothing but an ornate pedestal with some kind of tome sitting on it.

Continuing on, you come to a large cavern with several alcoves hewn out of the wall, each fitted with multiple wooden cots. Strewn about what appears to be the common space are the remains of several campfires, and along the wall you see stacks of books, games, toys, and a few instruments. Upon your arrival you see eight Gnomes - four male, four female - scattered about the place. Some are reading books on the various cots, others are engaging in curious games, and one is sitting upon a boulder playing an upbeat melody on a small flute.

The right wall of the cavern contains an opening out to a ledge, from which you can hear the waterfall a little quieter than elsewhere in Gnomengarde. As you step into the cavern, several eyes turn toward you in surprise, and the flute player stops his song.

"As you were." Govath says to the gnomes. Turning to his companions. "This may not work according to our purpose. No door to secure and an easy egress route right over there."

1d20 (5) + 4 = 9
Cain looks at the various alcoves to see if any are particularly empty and spacious enough to use as their base of operations. Even if it means clearing it out.

Ruggo takes off his hat and plasters a wide lopsided grin on his face. "Aw don't stop playin' on account of us, it sounded mighty lovely."

The Gnome who was playing the flute, a older male dressed in extravagant clothing, addresses the party...

"Begging your pardon, sirs - we don't get outsiders here very often, and certainly not unannounced. I take it you are visitors to our fair Gnomengarde? Please, let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay as pleasant as can be, under the circumstances. If you have come through the workshop, I can only assume you are already aware of the troubled times which face us."

Storm moves forward into the room flourishing his extravagant cloak.

"Ah it is good to meet another scholar of music! This one is called Storm of Fire and we have come to seek the aid of Gnomengarde though it appears we shall be helping you first. We are aware of the situation that faces you and your Kings."

Motioning to the party, Storm introduces each one.

"And who might all you be?"

"Ah, of course, introductions. My name is Zook - a pleasure to make your acquaintance - and these here (motioning to three Gnomes, two females and a male, playing some sort of game involving smoothed out stones) are Nyx, Quippy and Delebean. (Each of them waves in turn as he introduces them, Delebean being the male one) Over in the cots we have Caramip, Jabby, Anverth and Pallabar."

He motions to the two females first - one of which is reading while the other appears to be drawing on a piece of parchment - and then two males, one of which is just lounging with one leg over the edge of a cot, and the other deeply engrossed in a book.

"It is nice to meet all of you. My companions and I are going to help solve the problem that troubles your home. Tell us Zook, is there a place for us to settle in that is private so that we may prepare properly for our investigation? Even a store room would work."

"Once we are settled I would enjoy talking to all about your life here in Gnomengarde. As you can tell, I am not from around here."

As Cain looks around at the various alcoves, he does spot an empty one directly to the left. There's not a ton of space for creatures your size, and the alcoves do not have any way of shutting them off to the common area.

Continuing off Storms request, Cain points over to the empty alcove he noticed on the way in, "Perhaps that one? Would it be okay if we set up in there?"

"We of Gnomengarde are not especially big on privacy, I'm afraid - there are so few of us, and we regard all as family. We have only three enclosed spaces - the Kings' chambers, our treasury, and the mushroom wine cellar. You are most welcome to use one of our sleeping spaces, and I'm sure we'd all be happy to leave you undisturbed, though I can't promise what you do wouldn't be seen or heard."

"As you can probably imagine, the shapeshifter can be among us at any time and catching it will require some crafty planning. Seeing as the both the Kings' chambers and treasury are sure to be off limits, would we be able to use the wine cellar?"

Cain then thinks that perhaps they'll worry that a group of strangers would drink the night away, and adds, "You can rest assured we'll leave everything there untouched."

One of the Gnomes playing the game in front of you chuckles.

"From what I hear, not many people outside of Gnomengarde are big fans of our mushroom wine anyway."

"Indeed! You are welcome to do what you must there, if you think it best. You'll find the cellar just past the guard post, where Pog and Ulla are on duty today."

"Well now you have me curious about the mushroom wine. Would you permit me to sample a small tasting?"

"I have lived many years and have yet to found a wine I do not like."

"You're welcome to have a mug, if you'd like. There should be some tapped barrels in the cellar."

"Much obliged, and rest assured we will do our best to figure out what is wrong with your king and deal with the disappearance of your friends."

"Thank you for your hospitality everyone. We will talk to you shortly."

Storm turns to the group.

"Let's head back to Pog and Ulla and get ourselves setup quickly so we can begin our work."

When the group heads back through the workshop, Storm takes a good look at the tome on the pedestal.

1d20 (14) + 3 = 17

The tome which sits upon the pedestal is bound in leather which appears to have been dyed a deep purple. It is not overly thick, but does seem to be very old. You are unable to make out any title on the tome from your position.

In quick passing, Storm interrupts Fibblestib and Dabbledob to inquire about the tome.

"Sorry to interrupt your important work for the Kings, but can you tell me what that tome is up there?"

Upon your return, it seems as though the two Gnomes have given up arguing with each other and are instead spending their energy on continuing the development of their respective devices. Fibblestib looks up from his work as you give your inquiry, and responds...

"Oh, why that would be The Magick of Gnomengarde. That tome has been passed down by generations of Gnomes who have lived and thrived off the magic of our sacred mushrooms. It contains the guidelines by which we live our lives, how to properly care for and utilize the mushrooms, and the basic magicks which we of Gnomengarde all train in. It is our most valuable treasure. If you are very careful, you are welcome to take a look. You will find the door on the way to the Kings' chambers."

"Oh that sounds very very interesting. I would gladly have a look once we are settled. We are off set up camp in your wine cellar. We shall chat soon!"

Storm continues onwards!