“We can’t leave through the front doors. We’ll attract too much attention.” Boris said, looking at the locked temple doors.

“That’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” All eyes turned to Kara, who was taking things off the body of the dead priestess.
Grukk sighed, “Kara, is now really the time to be looting?”
“What? I’m just taking her little pendant and gloves here to show King Ironbrow that we did his job.”
Her three companions gazed at her, unbelievingly. Kara then caved, “..and I’m looting her. She was the Bitch In Charge down here, she has to have something useful on her.”
While the thief rummaged for something of use to aid in their escape, the sound of shouting and pounding upon the temple doors caught their attention. Boris prepared himself for another fight, and Grukk started looking around some secret way out of this temple.
“Found something!” Kara cried out, holding up a parchment scroll. “A magic scroll!” She unfurled the parchment to reveal elvish script. “Aaand I can’t read it!”
The banging upon the doors grew louder, with Alydrezea taking the scroll out of Kara’s hands. “It’s elvish! This is a magic scroll…a teleportation spell! Everyone, stay close to me!” The party huddled around their dark elf druid, who spoke aloud the words to the scroll. The writing on the scroll grew a bright blue, and the four of them were enraptured in a swirling vortex. From their perspective, it seemed as if the world itself was moving around them at a rapid pace! Twisting and racing until it stopped, and in the blink of an eye, the party was back in the halls of the Dwarf King. The magic scroll burning to nothing in an arcane fire.

Were it not for the memory of King Ironbrow, the guards might have attacked the party on sight for appearing in the King’s presence in such a manner, and Ironbrow could see they were injured. He sat upon his throne, crown of volcanic glass up on his head. He was surrounded by other dwarf nobles in fine furs and jewelry. “Welcome back! I trust you were successful, seeing how you ain’t dead?”
Kara scrambled to her feet, putting on a sweet smile despite her injuries. “Y-yes, your majesty. Those Drow shouldn’t be bothering you for a while. We killed some priestess of Lolth in their city beneath yours. Here’s the proof.” The Rajan woman present the pendent, keeping the gloves to herself. The dwarf king rose from his throne, approached Kara and took the pendant. With a smile, he turned to his court and shouted something in the Dwarf Language, which none of the party could understand, but it resulted in cheering from the other Dwarves present. “You have done my city a great service my friends! I promise you all your payment. 1,500 gold coins!”
That earned smiles from everyone, save for Boris. “Thank you, Lord Iornbrow. We’ll be leaving now.” Kara said with a polite bow.
“You can’t leave just yet! We have achieved a great victory over those damned dark elves. And that…calls for a feast!” The entire hall cheered over the declaration of a feast. “And you four, shall be my honored guests!”
Kara looked back at her friends, all of whom clearly needed a rest. And what chances were there that the Stripes would be in King Ironbrow’s own halls? “Can I…use your baths?” She asked with a hopeful smile.
“Feel free! I’ll assign you each an escort. These halls are confusing for any but the dwarves that built them. We’ll see your wounds treated, and your bellies filled with meat and beer!” More cheering, as preparations went underway immediately. Boris grunted in approval, “Finally. A king that’s worth something.”
Kara spun round on her heels and pointed a finger towards the bovine brute. “If you ruing this for me I will throw you back down that mine shaft!”
“You’d have to go through me first!” Alydrezea protested, gripping onto Boris’ injuried arm. The minotaur winced in pain. Grukk couldn’t help but laugh. A half orc, a minotaur, a foreign human, and a drow. All the guests of honor at an ancient Dwarven Hall. The half orc could barely believe it. He watched as Alydrezea and Boris were ushered to a healer, and Kara closely followed her own escort towards the baths.
“Sir, I’m at yer service.” Said an elite dwarf guard. “What can I do you for?” The rune knight thought a moment. “Some healing first.”
“Aye, right this way.” A Grukk followed the dwarf, his curiosity got the better of him. “Excuse me? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about runes, would you?”

“Aaaah~!” Kara sighed in bliss as she sank her slender but well-defined frame into the steaming waters of the baths. Steam filled the air, carrying the smell of citrus and cloves for a refreshing aroma! These were the most luxurious baths she had ever been in, so far. The waters bubbled up from a natural spring that was heated by the lava flow under the mountain. The walls of the springs were made of carven stone, and what’s best is she had this all to herself for now. “This is the life. Maybe I should ask Ironbrow if he needs a thief in his court? Then I’d be on easy street for sure….”  She scrubbed all the little welts from the biting spiders, her head turned, and hazel eyes narrowed at the scimitar sitting with her clothing. Her hand reached back towards her shoulders. Resting upon the amber skin of the rogue was a tattoo…of three black Stripes.
Meanwhile, Alydrezea and Boris were being treated by dwarven clerics at a temple. It worshiped a goddess the dwarves called ‘The Lady of Healing’, and they spoke no more of it. Their magics healed the worst of the wounds, and some kind of brewed medicine was forced down the minotaur’s throat to counter the poison of the spiders. The druid chuckled, “You’ll eat ogre meat, but not dwarf medicine?”
“It tastes like boiled grass.”
“Don’t cows eat grass all the time?”
Boris rolled his eyes, hiding his happiness, that Alydrezea was no longer solemn about killing one of her own kind.
“By the way, you grew super sharp teeth down there. And you can use magic…” The drow’s pale eyes narrowed in suspicion at her friend. Boris just stared back, confused.
“Boris? Are you secretly a druid?!”
The barbarian’s expression fell in relief. “No.”
“Are you sure? You can tell me? Is it some secret circle? A forbidden druid circle?!”
“I am not a druid, Drezea.”
“But you can use magic. I’ve seen you do it!”
“I can…but not as well as you.”
The drow beamed with pride. “I know. I’m great, aren’t I? Oh, and the Stars help, of course! But…if you’re not a druid, then how can you use magic? I know you’re not a wizard so…”
The minotaur’s bovine ears fell back against his head. “It’s not important.”
The drow’s expression fell as he gazed at her brutish friend. “Will you tell me one day?”
A long silence, but the minotaur nodded. “One day.” Although this temple was filled with the sweet smell of holy incense, Boris could smell only blood.

Later that night, after all were healed and all but Boris was bathed, the four of them returned to the King’s Hall. Ironbrow had opened his doors, and dwarves of all kinds were let into the Blackfire Halls. The massive wooden tables were filled with all kinds of food and drink. Pints and tankards full of malt beer. Entire hogs, goats and cows were being roasted on iron spits over fires. Cakes and caramels dotted the tables, and warm rolls of fresh bread were piled high. But no one was eating yet. King Ironbrow waved the party over towards his table. Still, he sat on his throne, but there were fire carved wooden chairs for the party to sit next to him. As they all took their seat, the Dwarf King rose from his own and raised an iron mug. The chatter died down and all eyes were on the King…and the King’s guests. “My kinsmen! For centuries we’ve ruled this mountain. We’ve fought off threats from above and below. From above, the hated goblin hordes! As we drove them off, the mountain shook, and rivers of fire burst forth. The mountain itself celebrated being free of goblin filth! A sign from our ancestors, and our gods, that we were to build here! That was the birth of the Obsidian Pass. But soon, the threats from below would arise. Elves. But not the kind that live in the trees to the East. And not the kind that dwell in lavish palaces upon the Great Ocean. No, these were deep dwellers. Dark Elves! For too long they’ve snuck into our homes and made off with riches and blood in the night! That threat may never truly be gone. But my honored friends, who now sit beside me, have done what no dwarf had done, since the time of my grandfather. They delved into the deep. They stormed that city of wazzocks and squashed the leader of those spider-fuckers into the dirt!”
The large crowed cheered and banged upon the tables in a ruckus so great, it threatened to knock the food off the tables.
Grukk whispered to Kara. “That’s not exactly what happened.”
“How many times do I have to tell you; don’t ruin these things for me?” Kara responded in her own harsh whisper.
“A toast! To these brave strangers. Who I am proud to call friend!” There was another cheer, and all went quiet as every man and woman present chugged down their mugs of beer. The party were wall to happy to join in. King Ironbrow slammed his now empty mug on his table. “Let’s feast!”
The cheers grew loud once more as the festivities began. After tearing into an entire goat and half a hog, Boris began chugging drink after drink. The dwarves were amused and impressed by the display, and many began challenging the minotaur to drinking games. Grukk was currently fending off a now completely wasted Kara.
“C’mooon…*hic* why you…you, you can’t…eheh…you can totally sell it!” The drunken human woman spoke to her half orc companion.
“How can you be drunk so quickly?!” He tried to gently push her away from him. “Kara, for the last time, the Runes are not for sale!”
“Awww.. don’t be such a stick in the mud!” The drunked thief presented the fire giant rune stone in her hand. “See? This…this can get ya…fifty gold easy!”
Grukk swiped it back from her grinning face, both impressed and a bit insulted. “You can barely stand, how are still so good and picking my pockets?!”

Alydrezea was a bit tipsy, but not drunk like some of her friends. She quietly ate the food in front of her, till her attention was brought to King Ironbrow. “That’s the gloomiest face I’ve ever seen. This is a feast, not a funeral. You alright, lass?”
The drow woman straightened up in her chair. “Oh I! I just uh…was just thinking.”
“I heard what ya did from yer giant horned friend over there.” The king pointed to Boris, his braided black beard scrunching up against the wooden table. “It ain’t easy to strike down yer own kin. But it had to be done.”
“That’s…that’s not what bothers me.” Alydrezea’s normally upbeat voice became sullen, a small shadow in the bright light of the feasting about her. “I lived on a surface colony. I only heard stories of my kind that lived in the Underdark, but I didn’t realize…how terrible they were. When I killed that priestess, I didn’t feel sad…I didn’t shed a single tear.”
“Tears would ‘ave been wasted on that witch. If what yer friend told me is true, that woman is better off dead than livin’ caught in the Spider Queen’s web. Far as I can tell, you did her a favor.”
The druid gave Ironbrow a curious look. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re not very good at it.”
The King gave a hardy laugh, patting her on the back with a heavy hand. “Then stop dwellin’ on it and get flat out drunk! Maybe the ale will better at raisin’ yer spirits!”
Alydrezea looked at the mug of ale in front of her, and dived deep into her drink.

Grukk had gotten up form his chair, and went to share a drink with a dwarf merchant of some kind. A portly dwarf man with a large handlebar mustache and long braided white beard. "Giants? Oh Aye! They used to be a real problem. They still are, if you're foolish enough to travel the Wilds."
"I was wondering if you knew where their lost kingdom might have been?"
"You want to know more about them? And their lost Rune Magic, I suppose?"
The half orc nodded, his greyish-hued skin bright against the roaring fires of the roasting meats. His mouth full of mutton.
"Well, you know more about Runes than I do at this point. The best way to learn more would be to ask a giant. They say the smartest ones rome at the tops of great mountians, or deep beneath the ocean waters."
Just like the book said. "But that coveres half the world!"
"Aye! You better get moving! hahaha! Listen Laddie, the only giants people see nowadays are the fat bastards that steal cattle and crush farms. But according to the legends, my people were forced south by far more powerful giatns that lived in a great Kingdom to the North. You might start there."
Grukk's face soured and he continued to eat and drink. North. The party was going the opposite direction. Grukk's gaze zeroed in on Kara Marsh.

Kara had no clue how many hours had passed when she opened her eyes. Her head felt like a giant had stepped on it. "What the devil do these dwarves put in their beer...?" She looked about, she was still in the grand hall. Many guests were laying down drunk and sleeping. Even the King, who was asleep on his chair with bits of cake frosting upon his beard. The Rajan woman heard snoring beneath her, and looked to see Grukk, whom she had been using as a pillow. With a blush and a start, she got up and out of her chair, the pounding in her head getting worse, and she groaned, "I need another bath."