The sixth night glows warm beneath Karak'Grom’s carved beams. Delfarius remains seated among stone tables, refusing every offered cup while drums, laughter, and battered tankards fill the hall.
Outside, Vaeroth rests beyond the feast hall, magnificently unaffected by five nights of drinking contests. His cobalt hide gleams in the torchlight as the revelers boast about their failure.
Rova and Nara lean close across the table to hear Delfarius’s story. Nearby, Zorm watches intently, visibly tired, tracking every moment his daughter remains within the Architect’s reach.
Rova
You have crossed worlds, broken old laws, and remade people. Tell us about one place you remember before it became something else.
Nara
And tell it plainly, Storm of the Void. No priestly version, no proud version. I want the tale you would share at a table like this.
Zorm’s fingers tighten around his untouched horn, though exhaustion has softened the usual warning in his scarred face. Around them, the feast quiets by degrees, curious ears turning toward the story.
Zorm Bloodrake
Choose carefully, Uruk-Vile. A good story can outlive a kingdom, and tonight this hall is listening.
✓ Quest Accepted
Tell the Bloodrake family a truthful account of Delfarius’s past
“"Priestly." I scoff a laugh. "Indeed. Like most of my priests would have said anything but the truth about me anyways." I give Zorm a look with a faint smirk at his composure getting sleepy. I am shocked he has remained at his daughter's side so long. "You will have to be a bit more specific. I have lived so long. There are many upon many places." I smirk at both of the sisters.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Diplomacy, rolled +4)
Delfarius scoffs a quiet laugh, his faint smirk aimed at Zorm’s weary composure. The chieftain has endured six nights beside his daughter without surrendering his watch.
Delfarius
Indeed. Like most of my priests would have said anything but the truth about me anyway. You will have to be more specific. I have lived so long, there are many places upon many places.
He turns that knowing look upon both sisters, inviting them to choose the memory rather than allowing the tale to become another polished legend.
Rova
Then tell us of a place you loved before power made it impossible to return. Not your grandest victory, but the place that still follows you.
Nara
Or choose the place that would make this hall understand you fastest. I want the truth, not necessarily the prettiest truth.
Zorm Bloodrake
They have narrowed a long road to two questions. Answer either, Uruk-Vile, and you will have a hall full of witnesses when the story is done.
The feast remains quiet around them. Even the nearby elders lean closer, and Zorm’s public invitation grants Delfarius a rare audience willing to hear an unvarnished memory.
“"Hmm." I say as I think. Outside the hall Vaeroth asks if there is anything stronger than the ale they have been giving him, and the orcs around his cheer as they bring the Cloud-Crown some Ironfist Firewater, a strong liquor that the Orcs here only give out to honored guests. I turn my head to that and laugh at the absurdity of them still trying to get him drunk.”
Delfarius
Hmm.
Delfarius turns his head toward the open hall doors, his pale eyes catching the torchlight as Vaeroth’s voice rolls across the feast outside.
Vaeroth
Is there anything stronger than this ale? I would like to understand why your honored guests keep offering me cups.
The orcs erupt in delighted cheers. Several elders hurry toward the wyrm with a black iron jug of Ironfist Firewater, reserved for guests deemed worthy of the strongest pour.
Vaeroth
Ah. Ironfist Firewater. Your faces suggest this is either an excellent welcome or a particularly ambitious challenge.
Vaeroth lowers his horned head and accepts the offered jug between his teeth. The orcs roar approval, already gathering more cups as though six nights of failure have taught them nothing.
Delfarius laughs at the absurd spectacle, while outside the Cloud-Crown settles comfortably among the cheering orcs, apparently willing to let them continue trying to intoxicate a sky wyrm.
“I raise an eyebrow towards Zorm. "They are still giving him cups, instead of the barrel." I laugh. "The barrel is closer to his cup than a orcish cup is to him." Rova remarks on how no one would believe this if they were not here. Nara just looks at me and then back to her ever watchful father and sighs.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Diplomacy, rolled +2)
Delfarius
They are still giving him cups, instead of the barrel. The barrel is closer to his cup than an orcish cup is to him.
Delfarius laughs, raising an eyebrow toward Zorm as another iron cup disappears between Vaeroth’s teeth outside. The wyrm remains perfectly composed.
Rova
No one would believe this tale if we were not sitting here watching it happen. They are challenging a sky wyrm with cups.
Beyond the hall, three elders—elderly orc men and women with sturdy builds, weathered faces, gray braids, and dark leather vests— strain beneath a fresh jug while Vaeroth patiently accepts another cup. His cobalt eye gleams with amused tolerance.
Nara
Father is watching Delfarius, Delfarius is watching the wyrm, and everyone else is watching the cups.
Nara looks from Delfarius to her ever-watchful father and sighs. Zorm’s scarred face tightens, though the corner of his mouth threatens betrayal.
Zorm Bloodrake
Let them bring the barrel, then. If Vaeroth is our guest, Karak'Grom will not insult him with a serving meant for an orc.
“"Hmm. Perhaps the Gate-Father should bring him his first barrel?" I say with a raised eyebrow to Zorm.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Diplomacy, rolled -2)
“"Hmm. Perhaps the Gate-Father should bring him his first barrel?" I say with a raised eyebrow to Zorm.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Diplomacy, rolled -1)
Delfarius
Hmm. Perhaps the Gate-Father should bring him his first barrel?
Delfarius raises an eyebrow toward Zorm, amusement glinting in his pale eyes as another undersized cup vanishes between Vaeroth’s teeth.
Zorm Bloodrake
A barrel, then. Karak'Grom will not offer the Cloud-Crown a child’s measure.
Zorm turns and bellows an order. Six broad-shouldered orcs drag out a black iron barrel banded in red, its seal marked with the Gate-Father’s crest.
Vaeroth
Now this resembles hospitality. I accept your first barrel, Gate-Father, and I shall remember the generosity behind it.
The barrel is rolled beneath Vaeroth’s lowered jaw. He grips the iron tap between his teeth, breaks it cleanly, and drinks as the hall erupts around him.
Rova
There. Delfarius has improved the feast with one raised eyebrow. I wonder what the next eyebrow will cost us.
“I lean back amused. "Zorm why don't you go over there and offer your honored guest words of thanks for coming and marking this feast as one of a kind." I smirk widely. "We will be here when you return from talking with Vaeroth."”
SUCCESS (Legendary Diplomacy, rolled +0)
Delfarius
Zorm, why don't you go over there and offer our honored guest words of thanks for coming and marking this feast as one of a kind? We will be here when you return.
Delfarius leans back with a wide smirk. Across the hall, Vaeroth lowers the emptied barrel, while the surrounding orcs cheer and pound their tables.
Zorm Bloodrake
A fair request, Uruk-Vile. The Cloud-Crown deserves to hear Karak'Grom's gratitude from its Gate-Father himself.
Zorm rises, straightens the iron rings in his braids, and strides toward Vaeroth. The crowd parts before him, still roaring over the wyrm's effortless drinking.
Zorm Bloodrake
Vaeroth, keeper of the sky roads, Karak'Grom thanks you for honoring Nara's sixth feast. Your presence has made this celebration one our children will boast about.
Vaeroth
Gate-Father, your welcome is generous, and your people are gloriously persistent. I accept your thanks, and I will remember this feast beneath the storm.
Rova
There. Your eyebrow sent the Gate-Father on an official mission, and the Cloud-Crown has accepted it. That may be your finest feast trick yet.