February 20th:

"Excuse me," Rory called out, "is there someone we can talk to? Someone who speaks for all of you?"

Snarg:
Either by luck or coincidence, the crystal has finally charge sufficiently to be used and, with absolutely no hesitation at all, the familiar tall dark-blue cloak of the Warden materializes out of thin air, empty as usual. There is about a two second pause before the thunderous, echoing voice reverberates in your and Araiguna's brains: And so I find you imprisoned. I would say much has changed in the past few days, but mirth lies beyond me.

Rory & Crew:
Gwydo and Sethos remain behind you, slightly inside and guarding the door, but several of the individuals look at you with curiousity and some with disgust. Most don't respond verbally at all. Only a few of the thin, amphibian creatures nearby bother to respond at all, speaking in a weary, bitter tone: "There are none who speak for the lost, Elf. Bereft of leadership, bereft of home, we have carried what we have left in the only direction remaining to us." He waves around him in a vague gesture. "What possible parlance would you require of us, Elf? Do you seek to remove us from thine lands as well?"

"Well, first off, these are not Elf lands," Rory begins in a defensive yet cordial tone. "This is a Dwarven village. They saw fit to let you in, and it's not my place to decide or go against that, or whether a group of refugees is denied safe haven. Personally, I'd rather you have someplace safe to wait out the coming storm."

"Second," he continues hesitantly, "I am no Elf, and just a wayward soul...like you, but my home is the road. You are refugees, I take it?"

Snarg's ears turn backwards as the voice echoes through his mind. "I'm in here fixing someone else's mess," he growls, "this isn't time to be snarky to me. If you don't want to hear about a Scion airship, Tusker armies, or anything like that, then I can just go away and finish what I'm doing the long way." Folding his arms, he rocks back and waits for a response.

Rory:
"No need to be snide," comes the tired response, as if just speaking is an effort. "We know these are Aluvian lands. And we are far from your village, several miles away, so do not think us impeding upon their hospitality. We saw an empty quarry and assumed it would be a place to have shelter from the elements, nothing more." He pauses as he shifts his position against the rock to try and get more comfortable. "But yes, not-Elf, we are ..." he winces as the realization hits him mid sentence. "We... were of the Greenmire State, one of the segments of what I imagine you would call Stonehold."

After a moment of silence, both because of the sob story and the sudden sight of a race he hadn't encountered before, Rory replied, "You sound like you just arrived and barely had time to sleep. If it would make speaking easier, we can offer you something to drink, or some food."

Gwydo:

Snarg & Araiguna:
No more time need be wasted. Dissemination required. By all means, elucidate, and then we shall share our information as well. Things do not portend well.

Rory:
The amphibious creature looks at you oddly. "And what would be the price of such food or drink, not-Elf? Or perhaps thy intent is to deride and derive us of what dignity we have remaining?" There is no accusation in his tone, more like a sense of resignation.

"Well," Snarg begins pacing back and forth, "we've got an old Scion airship in some Marblebush ruins.. Found it when looking for the cause of a Tusker curse on this guy here," he jabs a thumb in Araiguna's direction and continues on, "and found a bunch of old Scionic devices that did that. Designed to turn them in to some mind slave army of Tusker. Real nasty stuff. There's a cure, I guess you can see that since he's standing here, but we're still rounding all the devices up to destroy them. Real hard job since there was enough to turn millions."

"Now, you're asking yourself why we're in jail? Apparently a few of our party," he motions towards Araiguna again, "thought it'd be best to try and shoot a few adventurers who happened on the ship. One died and the other, a Scargil of Pallidtone, ran when I came down there and tried to smooth things over. Tracked him back to this city and was looking around until someone decided to follow me. Not too happy about that ... anyway, I'm going through the proceedings right now, but it'll be a while before I can finish smoothing things over here if I do that. I've you've got a better idea for doing that quickly, be my guest. Otherwise, there might be Order or who-knows-what-else swarming around the ship before too long. Then there's no telling who'll get their hands on it. I've half a mind to just blow it up if I didn't think it'd take out half the continent with it."

Pointing a finger at the image, Snarg lowers his voice to a growl. "No killing everyone to clear it up. I'm not here to do that. You understand? I think you'll want to do something quick, seeing as how I'm only one I know of aside from the Scions who can actually access the ship's information."

"Now," his posture and voice return back to a calmer setting, "I've got some more info about what I actually learned from the ship, but let's hear what you've got to say first, hmmmmm?"

Snarg & Araiguna:
Processing. There is a few seconds pause as the cloak hovers there, before one of the arms waves vaguely to the side. There are no signs of Pinnacle agents in this vicinity, you are likely to be able to find a peaceful solution to your current predicament. Can intervene if requested. The tone is flat and inflectionless as it reverberates in your mind, but as it speaks these next words an undercurrent of wrath creeps in. Hollow agent £çöëåÇ was cessated by Pinnacle agents when on assignments for your group. Pinnacle already prime target of ire, this action justifies greater resources towards their deletion. The tone returns to its normal, monotone timber. Recent activity on Aphus Lassel by unknown Scion agent, suggests recent change in altercations. Kezrinthka of Worker found in stasis shield, retrieved and returned to Central lands for proper recovery from analysis. Forces of the Supremecy have seized Vesayen Lassel. Recent upsurge in Pinnacle test subjects at south Aluvian site. Awaiting response. The quick onslaught of information done, the cloak goes silent.

Snarg leaps forward at the image, bringing his face inches away from its 'head' "KEZ IS AT CENTRAL?!? Why didn't you say anything? Bust us out of he-" he pauses from his frantic gestures and stops, obviously restraining a burst of energy. He turns to the Mite with a pleading expression. "Araiguna ... you ... need to get out of here. They're going to pin this on you. I ... don't know if I can help you if it comes down to it. We need to tell them where Kezrin is and what's going on as soon as possible, but I've got to clean this up."

He coughs awkwardly and looks back towards the cloak. "If you can ... get Araiguna out of here so he can tell the others. I'll stay and help mop this up here. Now, Pinnacle ... Supremacy ... what's the Supremacy? I know the Pinnacle is what the Nightmare that took Kezrin serves." All of a sudden, Snarg's features brighten. "Wait! This is really familiar ... like I've done something like this a few days ago. It was really easy when I worded it a certain way, how did it go..."

Clearing his throat, he stands straight up in front of the cloak. "Access all info on the Pin- wait, no ... the Shadows, as named by the Scions."

Rory shook his head, mildly irritated. He pulled out a bottle of water and a bottle of mead, and set them both before this pining creature. "The only price is promising me that you'll spare the water for the kids who need it," he answered, keeping up with the placating tone, "but I expect you to listen to us. We got ill news you'd benefit from learning."

Rory:
There's a faint laugh. "I wouldn't worry about that, my not-Elf friend. The children will be cared for... they reside up top," he points up several dozen feet to where the surface is, "playing in the grass as we speak. I do not suppose they understand what is happening, nor why. Though, I do not either, so I supp--"

He is interrupted by one of the other amphibians, a female, leaning forward. "What further ill news could you possibly bestow upon us in this situation? What more could go wrong?"

Rory smirked mirthlessly and nodded at the woman, thanking the gods for the opportunity to explain before his attitude turned completely sour.
"Well the good news is it's got nothing to do with the war," he started off, continuing his effort in trying to reassure them of this and reassure them of that. Rory was not fond of crowds, and for the right reasons.

"One of my buddies found ruins underground in these caves, and had been selling artifacts from them to the Dwarves when he contracted a curse that would turn him in to a monstrous creature at night.

"Now you can ask any Dwarf in town and they'll point to the markings on the buildings and trees here," he added hurriedly. "He's practically their savior, they know him by name. Many of them had already seen him when he changed at night, and we know for a fact that his condition was tied to objects we've been gathering up to...well, get rid of. They're completely nonmagical, and just too dangerous to hand off. The rest of us managed to find a way to cure the condition, but until we can make sure those 'things' never transform anyone else, we just can't let anybody go skipping off into the dark.

"We've advised people to stay clear of the ruins until we can resolve the situation, but lately I've been forming my own firsthand account of the thick-headed stubbornness of Dwarves, especially the ones who live here. As long as you don't venture deeper than the mouth of the cave, you should all be safe, and that's pretty much the long and short of it," he said, tying it all together.

He glanced between the man who had essentially herded some of these people, and the woman he interrupted, and the drinks he had placed on the ground before them, wondering if they were going to take them yet, or laugh at his meager offering.

He just wanted to get back to searching for the Scion. He thought he had done a fair job of relaying the information that would explain why the others would be standing guard at the door and the ruins themselves, and that if they needed to be convinced to stay back Sethos, Gwdo and Javan would be enough to hold down the fort until Zeiss and anyone else with him came along. Then, Rory presently realized that he would have add more to the notes he was leaving behind for Zeiss and Z. In the back of his mind, he idly marked where he left off on tracking Fierneceal, while waiting for the end of the conversation to come no later than necessary.

Spoiler:

Whispering to snarg:
"well, we don't have any time to lose. They could be back any minute and i'd rather be out of here than facing murder charges. you can explain what that thing is later, I'm more interested in finding Kez."

Rory:
After a couple more minutes of idle discussion between the strange creatures and yourself they decide to spread the word throughout the refugees here and anyone else who comes by to avoid entering the Ancients ruins, as they call them. The situation settled, you are free to head to town and figure out where the hell Javan and Fierneceal have gone off to.

Javan:

Spoiler:

You are woken early by the sound of what sounds like a bit of an argument in Undercommon from outside your window. The voices do not sound Dwarven, and a quick investigation looking out will reveal that there are rather suddenly a lot of Goblins, Kobolds, Gnolls, etc. out in the town proper that were not there previously. Many of them are literally sitting in the streets or town center, resting their legs, and a few Dwarves have roamed out and appear to be having an argument with them.

Snarg & Araiguna:
The Supremacy is the name utilized by the Tumerok and their masters. The Shadows are of no concern so long as they remain docile, mere remnants of Chaos. Meat beings would be ill advised to awaken them. A short pause. Translating one of you is a trivial task. Which 'others' would you prefer the Mite be sent towards, three groups of your previous band exist across a distance of approximately 92.817 miles.

Relieved, Rory sat down to revise the notes he had written while leaning against a cave wall to discourage prying eyes. After finishing, he handed Z's note to Gwydo and whispered to him and Sethos, "Do what you can, say what you have to in order to keep the curious ones away. This note is for Z. You can give it to her, or just tell her what happened, your choice."

Then, picked up where he left off on tracking Fierneceal--which he hoped would run through town--while at the same time trying his luck at Javan's, though he suspected the Fairy would be at the inn regardless.

Awareness 9:

Survival 9:

speaking towards the warden:
"can you determine if there is a lugian in one of those groups and their location relative to here?"

"Oh ... what," Snarg scratches his ear and grimaces, "and their masters??! You're telling me there's someone else in charge of that ball of destruction? Who's controlling them? Ooooh, this is making my brain hurt..." Rubbing his eyes, Snarg takes a break from asking questions for a moment.

One ... two ... three groups now? Well, uh ... maybe you should go with the group that's at the airship ... assuming they're still there ... unless it isn't safe there for him. There's already people there wait ... no, there aren't any 'agents' that could control Tusker there ... are there? That could explain why that Tusker was going crazy in the ship ... I don't know..."

Snarg once again addresses the Warden: "You're giving me so many terms I don't know ... give me a second." He paces back and forth for a moment to collect his thoughts before turning back to the image. "I don't even know where to begin. Uh, let's see. I want to know more about everything, really. Give me a summary of the Pinnacle, Chaos, the Scions, you, and the Supremacy and ... show where they are on a map and their movements! Yeah, I can understand maps! Make sure you get those Lassels you've been talking about on there too."

Snarg & Araiguna:
There is one Lugian currently present at Scionic facility with one Burun companion. Your requests for information are comprehended, but you have 34 seconds remaining of discourse, therefore.
It stops talking abruptly and waves its cloaked sleeve, and a fully three dimensional map of Dereth appears in front of you. You have less then a second to take in the staggering amount of detail going into it, and the merest moment to consider that this may actually be a real-time map of the continent, before he highlights over half the eastern chunk of the map in red, blanketing all Four Nations as well as areas of where Stonehold was, with a small text label that pops up in red saying simply: Pinnacle. It then has a single blinking purple dot on an island chain visible off the east coast of Aluvia, near Holtburg, labeled Scion. A few seconds pass before it waves the sleeve again and all the red fades, to be replaced by a dull grey which this time covers most of the entire map; the Four Nations, Stonehold, the Dryreach Zone, an island southeast of the Sho lands labeled Vesayen Lassel, and a large portion of the northwestern Dires. This one is labeled Supremacy.

Snarg's eyes dart around as he furiously notes everything. "Araiguna, remember this!" He continues speaking as he moves frantically over the map, fixating on a particular point in the north of the continent for a period of time. "We need supplies! Gold, items, manpower, maps, books ... we need all this now. People who can man a Scion airship and keep secrets. Get all you can to us at the airship. We'll work on your Pinnacle 'deletion'. Also this," he points at the map, "in paper. Translate us out of here to the airship. Too much to be done to stay here." Snarg grabs the crystal tightly. "Put me a it outside here," he mentions a particular spot a bit outside the city, "need to pick up my armor, heh."

Spoiler:

A half-asleep Javan slowly walks out of the inn, trying to know why there are so many people in the streets. Noticing the arguing dwarves, he approaches them and try to calm things down the best he can.

"Woa, let's all calm down here, ok? I don't know the details, but considering the amount of people here in the streets and their lack of dwarvish features, my guess is this is not a big family reunion. Which leads me to think they are not here because they want to...", Javan takes a deep breath, and then places a question, now looking at the newcomers, "So anyone mind telling me what got you here?"

Javan:
One of the Dwarves you recognize as one of the town Elders is rapping his walking stick on the ground. "No squatters!" You feel like he's said this phrase often in the last few minutes. "We sympathize with your plight but we waged no war on you or yours, and this is our home, not yours."

"We's not askin' much," a Goblin who looks rather haggard and is dressed in fairly unkempt rags replies, and you get the feeling he has repeated his argument more then a few times too. "Jez a place to rests for a whiles, get our bearings. Or does Aluvia turns away the helpless?"

"We cannot speak for an entire nation!" the Dwarf rebuttals, blustering a bit at his pricked pride.

"Mister Elder is right, he can't make that call. So what you guys are? Refugees? Opportunists? Nomads? It would help if you told us what happened for you guys to get here and what you all can do to secure your stay...", the fairy turns to the elder then, "Because if they could somehow helpful, it shouldn't be a problem to keep them for some time, right?"

Javan:
The Goblin turns to look at you with an odd expression on his face. "We's from Stonehold," is all he says, as if that should be enough.

The Dwarf, meanwhile, continues to bluster, "It doesn't matter if they can be helpful, we don't have the food or space for this many people! Look!!" He gestures behind him, towards the northwest, and for the first time you notice that the hills leading into the distance, all the way to the horizon, are almost covered in people roaming in this general direction; not all towards this city in particular, but eastwards. Their numbers have to be in the tends of thousands, if not more.