Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20140119184840/@comment-12599067-20140125030336

Narzhal led Anwen and Torene through the ruins of the town, pointing out the smithy, mines, armory, and wise woman's shack for later reference in the event that the new guests would end up taking refuge in the stronghold. After they made their way through the maze of crumbling walls and piles of rubble, Narzhal finally brought them to a great keep built into the side of a mountain, a pair of great oak doors laced with steel and iron leading into what was most likely their makeshift longhouse.

"Go on inside. Marulahk is probably not expecting visitors, but I find it unlikely that he would turn away those who would assist him in defeating the necromancers. Be polite and do as he asks, and I would advise you not to lie or speak half-truths to him. He has been very troubled as of late, and I would hate to have to mount your skulls on pikes," he mused, gesturing for them to open the doors while he took up the rearguard. He would do no speaking for them, for Marulahk alone held the choice whether or not to kill the outlanders.

Meanwhile, Jack watched on as Narzhal brought the group to the great doors. Once they were inside, they would be at the mercy of the orcs. He was contemplating springing down to help them when the war party at the campfire suddenly went deadly silent. He brought his attention back to the orcs below as they all rose to their feet, drawing axes and blades as they did. Their attention was affixed on the narrow bottleneck that led into the fortress, and even from his perch high above the war party, Jack could hear the dull thud of distant footfall. Something was coming.