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Gormlaith scratches her head, her hard eyes going from Loren, to Yilmaz and finally to Cauley. "Well, as things stand, I reckon we need Cauley here just to lead us to the ruins. Otherwise we're just traipsing all over Grimnir's Creation looking for it and liable to run into to Black Bowb and his ga...

Freda's eyes widen at the sight of all that silver twinkling in the torchlight. It was certainly more than any amount ever seen back at the shire! She grins at Memphisto's suggestion.

Still shaking her head, Gormlaith kneels down next to the bandit (or is it 'former' bandit now?) and gives him a hard look despite her fierce grin. "Cauley, is it? I haven't made up my mind but I've got a question or two 'fore we move on and decide what to do with ye. Are there others of Black Bowb'...

After hearing Cauley, Gormlaith lets loose with a loud braying laugh despite the pain it was causing her. "By Grimnir's beard! The irony! How the gods must hate me. This...this man who flops sides like a fish dropped onto the deck, to ask us this." Holding out her arms and staring up at the sky, she...

With her arrow back in its quiver, Freda walks around, looking at the walls. She's bored while the others ponder the door with its killing wards, wondering if there's a secret or hidden door in this room. So she goes about the walls, looking, peering at anything amiss. Heck, she thought, maybe there...

As she is binded, Gormlaith smiles through her pain as she claps a strong hand on Loren's shoulder. "Goodfellow, this is Yilmaz and yonder is Asil. I am Gormlaith, of the North. If ye won't string up yon bandit by his guts, so be it. Let's tie him up and make way into Wodbury for I've a thirst, man!"

Staggering, Gormlait h nearly pushes the cleric away but finally relents as he binds her wound. Not one to offer thanks, she does give him a nod and in turn helps with his own injury. Bind Wounds [1d4] = 4 'You have a name, then?" the barbarian asks as she tightens a bandage. "Aye, we tie that one u...

Yikes! Somehow caught off guard, Gormlaith reels from the blow, almost falling to her knees. With a loud roar, she frees her sword and swings the heavy blade in a wide arc at the lanky young man who nearly did her in. Two-Handed Sword Attk: [1d20+2] = 17+2 = 19 Dam: [1d6+2] = 3+2 = 5 Yeeessssssss

Gormlaith turns her head toward the wizard, her eyes still on the unsavory trio ahead of her. "I'm all for giving them steel, Yilmaz. But maybe you can do that thing, with the hand gestures and them words no one can understand."

OOC: You've got that Sleep spell memorized, right?

Gormlaith's eyes are hard, her face harder as she takes in the trio before her. She shifts the great sword on her shoulder, easy like as if the blade is a damn millstone but really it's to bring the two-anded sword to bear if need be. She's with an old man, though a wizard at that, and his servant....