The stone giants of the Mindspin Mountains believe the giant god Minderhal used his hammer Agrimmosh to forge the first giants. These creations were imperfect, however, so he crafted others and granted them life as well, ultimately creating the stone giants. Pleased with what he had now wrought, Minderhal pulverized his very first creation with a final blow of his hammer, forever after known as the Hammer of Unmaking, with the pieces of the first creation becoming the other races of giants which came to populate the world.
Agrimmosh appears to be a simple stone blacksmith’s hammer engraved with Minderhal’s holy symbol. It functions as a +2 impact warhammer that automatically resizes itself to match the size of its wielder. Once per day as a full-round action, the wielder of Agrimmosh can use the hammer to cast an heightened enlarge person upon the wielder. Whenever the wielder of Agrimmosh confirms a critical hit against a creature of the humanoid type, the target creature must succeed at a Fortitude save or shrink by one size category, as if by an heightened reduce person. In addition, Agrimmosh is rumored to have other powers that appear to be currently dormant. Legends vary but the most common theory is that when the Hammer of Unmaking is struck against Minderhal’s Forge in the Cathedral of Minderhal it's full powers will be reawakened, and Agrimmosh will once again become the forge tool of a god.
The final battle between the Twisted Hearts and the first proto-Trunauans took place on Bloodmarch Hill, where the great hero Chieftain Uskroth fell with over two dozen spears, swords, and arrows piercing his scarred and muscular body The few surviving Twisted Hearts rallied and drove the villagers and militiamen back to the south, though both the orcs and hill giants knew their campaign was finished without their mighty leader. Before the Twisted Hearts retreated north, they were rumored to have lain Uskroth to rest in a hidden tomb somewhere beneath the earth, burying the giant hero with his favorite weapon, a stone warhammer named Agrimmosh, and his battered battle armor, both of which Uskroth had claimed were gifts granted by Minderhal himself. The subterranean crypt had been carefully hidden in the hopes that in the future, when Belkzen finally pushed Lastwall and it's forces back again, the orcs and giants would reclaim the treasures within and the restore the glory of their great Hero Chieftain Uskroth.
Dundin seemed preoccupied with giants. So much so, the local regimen of exercises to toughen himself up were forgotten. The invasion by the giant had shaken him to the core, and he was constantly exploring around Trunau looking for signs of giants and their minions.
He still stayed with Cham in the boardinghouse. With her help, he found a cloak that would protect him from danger that he bought from a friendly traveling merchant. His battered shield he carried on his back, a reminder of his kin and the giant raid. The light spiked shield Dundin practiced with, using the shield in conjunction with a host of axes and hammers.
Although Dundin still missed many baths, he didn't miss many meals, and his hunger for revenge burned strong in his heart.
Dundin was excited to face off against giants again. He located a merchant with belts that could make one stronger and more nimble. Excited about his discovery, he realized that the belt that made one stronger was more suited to Brampton.
Dundin purchased the belt that made him more nimble, allowing the dwarf to hide, dodge, and fire a bow much better. He advised Brampton: "This belt confers the strength of the giants we are going to fight. I would recommend you buying it."
Everyone has had a few days to rest from your endeavors and recover from the wounds suffered during the orcish assault. Your band has been greatly celebrated by the peoples of Trunau, your names spread throughout the area as the heroes who saved the town. Several feasts and toasts have been cast in your honor, songs sung and a short ballad written to carry your story onwards into the ages.
A few days into the eclectic mix of revelries for those who survived and memorials for those lost you received an invitation from Trunau’s Town Council, a summons to attend important matters before the judiciary. Your band was called to bear witness and provide testimony against the scout and spy who lead the orcish raiders defeated at the Battle of Bloodmarch Hill, against the half-orc Skreed Gorewillow. One by one you each took the stand, testifing to the evidence uncovered by your group while investigating the death of former patrol leader Rodrik Garth. You and your band bore witness to all of the horrible things Skreed and his soldiers did to the people of Trunau hunting for Uskroth’s tomb and the weapons contained therein. At the end of your testimonies Skreed was given the chance to confess his crimes and beg for the mercy of the court. Instead he spat in the faces of the councilors and as he did below Bloodmarch Hill decry the peoples of Trunau and condemn everyone to die at the hands of Grenseldek and Nulgreth. The next day Skreed Gorewillow was hanged by the neck until dead upon a platform erected at the Commons before a crowd of hundreds. His body was dragged away amongst the flying stones and rotted vegetables hurled by the throng and tossed upon a great pyre erected over the ashes of the Commons Beacon, burning him and all of the other orcs and half-orcs slain during the Battle of Bloodmarch Hill.
Two days later the de facto leader of the Town Council, Chief Defender Halgra of the Blackened Blades, called your group together again, asking you to join her in the meeting room at the Ivory Hall, Trunau’s seat of government. With information gleaned from various captured orc prisoners and what little could be pried from the saboteur Skreed, Trunau’s Council of Defenders is worried that the town’s orc troubles are far from over. Thanks to your group, the orcs’ hill giant chieftain, Grenseldek, was unable to recover the items she sought from Uskroth’s tomb, and the council fears Gorewillow may have been correct, that another attack on Trunau is due in the very near future. To that end, Halgra asks your band to go to Grenseldek’s lair, an abandoned Lastwll outpost found near the River Esk called Redlake Fort. She and the council asks you to deal with the giant chieftain and her orc tribe before they can attack Trunau again.
Due to your recent heroism during the orc raid and in Uskroth’s tomb, the council believes you are best suited to this task, more so than Trunau’s militia which is needed to safeguard the citizenry while they work to rebuild the town’s defenses after the orc attack. To hopefully entice your group to agree, Halgra is willing to offer a reward of 1,500 gp to put an end to Grenseldek’s aggressions.
To further aid your band, Halgra calls forth someone known to your band, the elven druid Silvermane. Being both venerable and ancient, the elven druid tells you about a place which may be of value to your quest, the Vault of Thorns. Silvermane tells you the Vault is a demiplane once created by the druidic Council of Thorns, of which he was once a member, likely the last living member. He tells you the entrance to the Vault is located within Ghostlight Marsh, a swamp to the northeast surrounding the confluence of the Kestrel and Esk rivers.
The druid continues with his strange gestures and symbols, informing you the Vault contains a cache of weapons and arms which can help in the fight against the Twisted Heart menace. To be honest however, the elf admits he can no longer remember what specific items may still be held within the vault. In order to enter the hidden demiplane, to find the Vault of Thorns, your group should look for a marker in the form of a circle of thorns carved into a stone near the banks of the River Esk. The marker will put you on the right path through the swamp to find the Vault, but the entrance to the demiplane is hidden. Silvermane produces an ancient, leaf embossed brass lantern called a Ghostlight Lantern. According to Silvermane, if the husk of a dead will-o’-wisp is placed inside the lantern, the lamp will produce a beacon that points to the circle of standing stones that marks the Vault’s entrance. Once you reach the druidic circle, you will need only wash the supernaturally fueled lantern’s light over the central standing stone to open the portal into the Vault of Thorns.
Halgra informs your band that she has already secured passage for them aboard a keelboat that regularly plies the rivers of southern Belkzen. The riverboat’s captain, a half-orc named Raag Bloodtusk, has agreed to transport your group to Ghostlight Marsh and then up the River Esk to a location near Redlake Fort in exchange for their efforts in helping sail the boat and defending it from any dangerous river denizens. Halgra explains Raag is a friend and former associate, trustworthy, protective of his crew, and demanding that those who sail with him be ready to pull their own weight. The council feels that overland travel to Redlake Fort would be foolhardy and dangerous, as it would take you right through the orc-infested Hold of Belkzen, and after the slaughter of so many orcs during the battle, few would likely allow you to pass unmolested. Bloodtusk’s riverboat, on the other hand, is well known among the orc tribes along the river, and the gladiator turned riverboat captain enjoys rights of safe passage from these tribes’ chieftains, which makes a river journey far safer than traveling overland. Halgra gives her son Adir a letter of introduction to give to Bloodtusk, who will be waiting for you all on the southern bank of the Kestrel River in two days time.
The council shows you to an adjoining chamber wherein a table has been laid out, covered with a variety of supplies which the group hopes may be of use to you in the voyage ahead of you.
13 Adamantine Crossbow Bolts
4 Potions of Cure Light Wounds
Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
Wand of Cure Light Wounds with 24 charges
Campfire Bead (Gifted previously in case no one has claimed it)
4 Antitoxin vials
4 Smokesticks
Tangleburn Bag
Thunderstone
2 flasks Acid
6 Alchemist’s Fires
2 Tanglefoot Bags
2 Fuse Grenades
Cold Iron Pellet Grenade
Adamantine Pellet Grenade
Masterwork Thieves’ Tools
50 feet of Silk Rope
Healer’s Kit 10 uses
climber’s Kit
Grappling Hook
50 feet of Rope, 2 coils
Delia spends much of her time around the Council with an obvious air of disdain. If they would have just listened to her and her companions in the first place, the attack on Trunau likely wouldn't have been as tragic as it had been. She made no attempt to hide her thoughts on the matter if asked, but she also understood that now was the time for solidarity and was not outwardly vocal about it either. "We will go deal with this threat as we have done so from the beginning. Perhaps this time you will believe us when we come to you with evidence."
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Songan is certain to thank Silvermane for his information on the Vault of Thorns; any help that can be offered is certain to be a boon to the group. When the group is offered the vault's key, Songan suggests that Delia handle its care; her newly-purchased haversack would ensure that it wasn't damaged in transport or in any fighting that took place between now and then.
Songan's attitude toward the council is decidedly less haughty and he listens quietly to their request for their assistance in putting a final end to the threat Trunau faces. "I second Delia's assent. I have not been a resident of Trunau for for long, and though I do not even have a house here, I have come to regard it as the only place I have ever known that I could call home. We complete this mission and ensure that Trunau remains a place that will continue to be a light in the dark."
For those who want it, here is a retelling of the death of Skreed, written much as it might have been in a newspaper article from days past. Read it only if it interests you, it may be a bit dark and paint a less than pretty picture of the citizens you have sworn to protect.
***Warning long blast of text below***
Nearly every citizen of Trunau able to do so turned out that cloudy Fireday morning to watch the last condemned prisoners taken in the Battle of Bloodmarh Hill meet their final end. Every citizen that is save the one hundred and thirteen souls whose lives had been cut short a mere few days previous by orcs and giants of the Twisted Heart clan in an unwarranted nighttime assault on the town. One hundred thirteen Trunauns and one fallen heroic daughter, the half-orc sorceress Leira, who fought bravely through the night only to succumbed to wounds taken in the tomb below Bloodmarch Hill. Throughtout that fateful night every man, woman, and child of Trunau fought against overwhelming odds just to see the following dawn. If not for the brave heroes who worked their way across the town in a selfless push to rally the townsfolk and secure our defenses all might have been lost.
That Fireday four brutish orcs, two half-orc infiltrators, a malformed runt of an ogrekin and the half-orc leader Skreed Gorewillow were marched bound and shackled from makeshift cells within the Longhouse to a sturdy gallows stand quickly and quietly built in the center of the Commons amphitheater. A throng stood silent and sullen at the theater as the processional made it's way across Upper Trunau to the only area large enough to accomplish the grisly task soon to occur.
The bitter and stoic crowd along the procession remembered those who had fallen to the killers, clutching cherished keepsakes or favored momentos of the dead close at hand as the defeated marched past. Many repeated in low voices the names of those lost as each prisoner shuffled by, wanting the sneering killers to know who it was they were dying for, to know whom they had taken from the world, taken from people who loved them, and to know it was those same survivors making them see justice that day.
The prisoners were lead up the twelve foot rise to the top of the platform and arranged together along a short bench built against the back railing of the gallows. Atop the platform stood three somber officials, Chief Defender Halgra of the Blackened Blades, Patrol Leader Jagrin Grath, and Councilor Lessie Crumkin, priestess of Adabar. Crumkin, her arm still in a sling from wounds taken in the assault opened the proceedings with a prayer and benediction for those lost and those remaining behind. The crowd was perhaps comforted by the woman's words, some for their faith in Abadar, others merely her kind and thoughtful words, others still simply because Lessie had refused herself any divine healing until the rest of Trunau had been blessedly cured of their own injuries after that long and bloody conflict.
Chief Defender Halgra read aloud the death warrants of each condemned prisoner, along with the names of any victims duly, directly attributed to the prisoner in question.
Alog Half-tusk, condemned to death for the murders of Shella and Davin Coppertun.
Teldgulg the Grey, condemned to death for the muders of Elisa and Marek Hansford, and for the same of their infant son Bailey.
Fogugh Azog, condemned to death for the rape and murders of Ambrose Greentree, Helena Thimblewhistle, and the half-wit dung-sweeper lad Dunston.
Sodagh Bent-blade, condemned to death for the murder and butchery of six unknown travellers and merchants seeking shelter amongst the Barterstones.
Ufthak Greer, condemned to death for sedition and the support of the Twisted Heart clan, true enemies of Trunau, for assisting in the crimes of vandalism and terror which preceeded the attack on Trunau.
Shagrat the Pretty, condemned to death for the murder of Randall of the Blackened Blades, for the attempted destruction of the Siegestone, and for other acts of sedition and the support of the Twisted Heart clan, true enemies of Trunau, and for assisting in the crimes of vandalism and terror which proceeded the attack on Trunau.
Horik Gorb, condemned to death for the muder of Troopers Alex Stein and Willum the Black as well as the murder, mutilation, and other acts unmentioned taken against six steeds corralled near the gates of Lower Trunau.
Skreed Gorewillow, condemned to death for the murder of our daughter Leira and untold numbers of citizens of Trunau, for planning and leading multiple acts of sedition against Trunau, for the support and leading the Twisted Heart clan, true enemies of Trunau, in battle against the town, and for directing and perpetrating the crimes of vandalism and terror which directly proceeded that same attack on Trunau.
Each prisoner was asked if he or she had any last words. The orcs each pledged themselves to Nulgreth, ready to meet their demise with snarling grins and exposed tusks. The half-orcs spit at the crowd and uttered vile slurs against those they had supposedly befriended and duped during their mission to Trunau. Horik looked out at the crowd, his eyes dull and listless, unsure of his surroundings and offering little more than a lisping, wet grunt or growl in response. Skreed Gorewillow took this his one last chance to again pledge himself to Nulgret and "Queen" Grenseldek, vowing her revenge would be swift, would be brutal, and would leave Trunau forever a salted ruin wherein no pinkskin would ever find solace again.
Troopers from the militia then climbed the stairs and pulled the prisoners up from their long bench before the assembly. The condemned were lined up onto the traps, Horik onto the biggest dropaway, cut large for his pronounced girth and mass. The guardsmen removed their shackles and bound each prisoner with a length of black cloth wrappings, hands together, legs hobbled at the ankles. Patrol Leader Jagrin then stepped over to each prisoner, one by one, taking a dangling noose in hand and settling it firmly over each prisoner's exposed neck, knots back and to the left of each bony jawline.
Halgra, acting as the hangman, adjusted each noose securely around their necks and placed a thick black hood over their heads before stepping off to the side. Councilor Crumkin made one pass over each condemned, asking Adabar to assure they arrived swiftly to the boneyard and troubled the citizens of Trunau never again. She then left the platform and returned to a seat before the assembled crowd.
Jagrin and Halgra then looked at each other and out over the crowd, glancing at a brief glint of sun poking from the grey skies above. Jagrin signaled to the people around the platform to stand away from the traps. Only Patrol Captain Kurst Grath remained, stationed behind and to the side of the largest trap. In the distance a temple bell sounded the approach of noon, the time afforded to the execution. With three claps of his hands Jagrin nodded and Halgra pulled a long oaken lever to release the traps through which the prisoners immediately plunged. Heavy sandbags attached to the doors fell quickly and solidly, thumping loudly, almost pulling the bodies above with them and clearing the holes for them to follow through. The traps fell smoothly, dropping the prisoners five feet downwards before jerking at the sudden stop, the rope reaching it's full length. The bodies bounded up again like a ball attached to a string and then quietly settled down. Most of the prisoners died immediately of a broken neck rather than by actual strangulation. Patrol Captain Kurst stepped up and plunged his sword between the ribs of the ogrekin Horik, piercing his heart, assuring the bestial warrior did not suffer needlessly.
Only Fogugh and Skreed did not die right away from the fall, jerking and twitching as they danced about for air, their lives slowly draining away as they faded into unconsciousness, stillness, then death. The rapist Fogugh succumbed after about two minutes, while the villianous Skreed took nearly eight minutes to finally meet his justly deserved end.
The bodies were allowed to hang in review for a full fifteen minutes before one by one they were cut down. Each was dragged from the Commons area in a direct path to the remnants of the nearby watch fire, now repurposed as a funeral pyre. The more unruly of the villagers hurled stones, rotting vegetables and various epitaphs at the corpses before each body was unceremoniously hurled up onto the burning conflagration, their ashes to be later dumped over the side of the cliffs, letting the winds of Trunau Hill carry them away from the town they had tried and failed to claim. Some called it a fitting end for anyone who tries to take the town from those whose lives and souls reside therein, while for others well, each man holds his own thoughts and opinions. Thusly did the saboteur Skreed Gorewillow meet justice in the Town of Trunau.
For Adir: Share as you desire with your fellow players. Much of what you relate you believe to be true, or as true as legend and story can be.
Lastwall’s northern border with Belkzen has been pushed back multiple times over the centuries. When the second of these borders, Harchist’s Blockade, was overrun by the orcs, some stood resolute, seeing themselves as protectors of the land. The Council of Thorns, a militant druid circle of which Silvermane was once an acolyte member, despised the orcs’ defilement of the land the creatures conquered, attempted to stand their ground. While the druids’ fight was valiant, the Council of Thorns was eventually driven back to the swamp and defeated by the orcs in 4237 AR. However, while faced with this sure defeat at the hands of the conquering orcs, the druids of the Council of Thorns made one final stand in the swamp, sacrificing themselves in a forsaken and bloody ritual to protect their last sanctuary and refuge. As the druids’ dying bodies slumped into the muck, vengeful will-o-wisps rose from the bogs and marshs and drove the orcish army away from their protected home and wetlands. These cruel and capricious aberrations have guarded Ghostlight Marsh from any and all intrusion ever since.
The fall of Redlake Fort was more than just a military defeat, however, for in the face of an orcish siege, it has long been rumored the human garrison resorted to unspeakably barbaric actions under the influence of a wicked castellan desperate to hold the line against the orc invaders. These acts at the last were to no avail, the orcs eventually overcame the troops of Redlake Fort, putting nearly all to the sword and taking the keep for themselves. Only a valiant few on patrol beyond the walls survived, making a harrowing journey south to rejoin the forces of Lastwall behind the Hordeline.
Many different orc tribes and other creatures have inhabited the abandoned fort off and on over the years, but never for long and never twice. Today it hosts the hill giantess Grenseldek’s reborn Twisted Hearts tribe. Hers is a fractious mix of Heart Eater hill giants, Twisted Nail orcs, and an extended family of ogres and ogrekin called the Gorbs, whom both the giants and orcs subjugated years ago.
For several days after the battle Brampton's life was a whirlwind activity. Between telling tales with his fellow guardsman, briefings with officers and government officials, regular guard duty and training there was not much time anything else. He would often see the people he joined in the battle but did not have much time to socialize with them.
Word finally came down that he was to join them on an expedition to take the fight to the enemy. He was release from guard duty to prepare for the trip. It did not take him long to gather the supplies he needed with the extra coin he had received as a reward. He can hardly wait to finally be able to take the fight to the enemy.
Adir
50 feet of Silk Rope
Healer’s Kit 10 uses
Climber’s Kit
Grappling Hook
Antitoxin
Potion of CLW
Delia
Wand of Cure Light Wounds with 24 charges
Campfire Bead
Cold Iron Pellet Grenade
Adamantine Pellet Grenade
Fuse Grenade
Alchemist Fire
Still Unclaimed
13 Adamantine Crossbow Bolts
3 Potions of Cure Light Wounds
1 Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
3 Antitoxin vials
4 Smokesticks
1 Tangleburn Bag
1 Thunderstone
2 flasks Acid
5 Alchemist’s Fires
2 Tanglefoot Bags
1 Fuse Grenades
Masterwork Thieves’ Tools
50 feet of Rope, 2 coils
Remember you do not have to take all of the equipment offered, it is only there as an option. Encumbrance and carrying capacity are legitimate concerns in the encounters ahead of you. Movement will be a consideration.
The time is fast approaching for your band to set out if they wish to meet Captain Bloodtusk's ferry Wealday morning. Your group continues to stay at the Longhouse while the town rebuilds as other areas remain packed with displaced townsfolk. A call shortly after breakfast finds you all meeting with Patrol Captain Kurst Grath and a pale-skinned elf with long black hair. The latter is dressed in a mix of traveler's apparel, scholarly robes, and adventuring gear.
Kurst greets you warmly, waving your group to remain seated. No need for formalities between friends. I'll miss seeing you lot around town, but I understand what you're about to do. It's truly important for Trunau and we thank you. By Cayden's hounds I wish I were going with you. Wearily the patrol captain shakes his head, looking downcast. With Roddy's death and my father's "condition," right now my place is here. Just promise me you'll give this Grenseldek a good cut for me, one for Rodric, and another for everyone that died over her greed, looking grimly around at your assembled group.
The trip north to the river should take the greater part of a day, so I've prepared a patrol to lead you there safely, leaving early tomorrow morning. Waving his hand he continues, No arguement, we need to make sure none of Skreed's troops have reformed in the area. The patrol will have plenty more to do once you lot have sailed away. It won't do for you lot to go kill that giant beyotch only to return and find the hill covered in more orc bonfires. And you had better return to us. I don't think the town's finished with you just yet. Celebrating heroes keeps everyone from wallowing in all that's been lost.
With that he motions for the other figure to step forward, To that end someone has requested permission to join your group. Father and Halgra are skeptical of course, but then they had their doubts about you as well. Me, while the proof is in the puddin, you can't find it if you don't take that first bite. This is Maslyn Ellewyr, a wizard and scholar familiar with orcs and their histories. He may be of use, and well, free help is still help after all.
The militia leader motions for Maslyn to remain, moving towards the door. Remember, we have one last dinner planned for tonight. It'll be the last chance for the council to speak with you before you depart. Rabus Clarenston will be unveiling his latest concoction, Hero's Call, and he wants you to be among the first to taste it. You don't want to miss that now do you?
Kurst leaves the room allowing you to make your introductions and welcome Maslyn to the group. This will be your chance to chat up what has happened, remember any remaining bits of mystery from the first book and form any questions you may still need to ask the council, then settle into the roles of heroes once more.
Brampton steps up to Maslyn and shakes his hand, "Welcome to the team. My name is Brampton Pratt with the Trunua Militia and now I guess a Hero of Trunua. We are finally going to take the fight to the enemy and I will be glad to have someone with your skills and knowledge with us."
Maslyn nods in deference to the group as he steps forward.
The elf has an ioun torch circling his head, a jade cased compass depends from a bandolier across the elf's narrow chest also glows with light, as does an amulet which depends from a delicate silver chain. Also in the bandolier are a few wands and scroll tubes. The elf wears a suit of quilted cloth armor fashioned from darkleaf cloth, and a complicated pack rests on the ground beside him.
"It will be a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am sure. As your friend mentioned I am indeed a scholar of ages past, though I will not bore you with the details... unless you might find them interesting?" The elf cocks an eyebrow.
"I am a Pathfinder, and I am grateful that our mutual interests align in this instance. A Pathfinder team has been lost in the Hold of Belkzen, and I hope that by traveling with you and aiding your endeavor I will simultaneously accomplish my own."
Maslyn pauses. "Perhaps you can inform me what prompts your own mission? I take it that this Grenseldek..."
"...a giant of some kind I would judge by the name's etymology? Is responsible for the tragedy which has befallen Trunau? I am certain there will be plenty of time to learn the details as we travel."
"Aye, a hill giantess!," Adir practically spits out, his vehemence causing him to forget to introduce himself. "For Grenseldek this, for Grenseldek that, they kept shouting. She has a lot to answer for." He cracks the knuckles of his big hands loudly.
Dundin looks at the new elf with suspicion.
"Can a scholar help us fight giants and their minions? It looks like a strong wind would blow you away. And, if you must know, lots of giants are trying to take down Trunau!!"
Dundin makes it a point to see if he can join the Ninth Battalion. For dwarves with no clan ties, it gives him a second chance to be with fellow dwarves again.
"I am certainly no fighter, but I should emphasize that I am not only a scholar of many fields I am also a student of the arcane arts." Maslyn gestures to his spell component pouch.
"Certainly my magic would be of some benefit to you? For example, I have a spell which will allow you to rest comfortably in your armor. Thus, if attacked in the middle of the night it should help mitigate the dire consequences of such a situation. I am also well versed in the identification and classification of magical items of all types so that you may take appropriate advantage of such items of power which you may acquire on your journey."
Maslyn's eyes widen as he notes the blacksmith's hammer engraved with the symbol of Minderhal. His hand reaches out in wonder in the direction of the hammer.
"Is that... Agrimmosh?"
Delia greets Kurst with a smile as he comes into the room. She listens intently with nods occasionally to indicate she is listening to their briefing. Once Kurst took his leave, Delia leans over and offers her hand to Maslyn; her grip is strong and the tips of her index and middle fingers are heavily calloused. "Welcome, Maslyn. My name is Delia Everheart. I understand you have your own mission you seek to accomplish, but know that if you agree to accompany us, that our mission is top priority to us. I know you care for your Pathfinders, but Trunau is my home and I love it dearly and I will not hesitate to leave you behind should your mission impede mine own." She looks the elf straight in the eyes to let him know she is entirely serious. "With that out of the way... Being a Pathfinder you must know quite a bit! You have the look of a scholarly-sort about you. Do you know much about this area?"
As Delia takes Maslyn's hand she notes that not only is his skin unnaturally pale, but his flesh is slightly clammy.
"I shall endeavor to balance the needs of both groups, Delia. I consider myself a guest of you and this town, and it would be foolhardy of me to put you at risk for by extension I would be putting myself at risk."
Maslyn considers Delia's question. "By this area, I assume you mean the Hold of Belkzen? It is fascinating. Before Earthfall it was the Thassiloninan province of Gastash, ruled over by the Runelord of Gluttony. Shortly after Earthfall the dwarven migration, commonly referred to as the Quest for Sky, forced the Darklands orcs to the surface here where they came into conflict with the native giant culture. Several hundred years after the orcish arrival the dwarves completed their Quest for Sky and created their Sky Citadels, one of which, Koldukar, currently serves as the 'capital' of the Hold of Belkzen under the control of Grask Uldreth and the Empty Hand orc tribe. Thousands of years after orc colonization of the Hold of Belkzen, which takes its name from the orc warlord who most successfully united the orcish tribes and captured Koldukar, in the wake of the Shining Crusade the nation of Lastwall created the Sunwall to contain the orcish threat. The Sunwall stood for roughly 400 years before being overun. Lastwall forces fell back to Harchist's Blockade, constructed at the behest of a general who foresaw the fall of the Sunwall. Harchist's Blockade stood for roughly 200 years before being overrun. Lastwall fell back to the Hordeline, a series of earthwork defenses which held the orcs for only two years before falling to orcish advances and the border now stands as it is."
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Songan takes particular not of the ioun torch circling the new member of the party, a mirror of the newly-purchased one that circles his own head. At hearing of the man's background, though, Songan's ears immediately swivel forward. After the others have made their introductions, the catfolk steps forward, his tawny tail lashing back and forth behind him. "A Pathfinder! It is a definite honor to meet you! I have always been an admirer of the Society but you are the first of their ranks I have ever met! When we have a spare moment, I would very much like to show you something...an heirloom, I suppose you might call it. My earliest memories are of being a vagabond kit scrounging to survive, but I have always had it with me."
"That aside, I am certain having you in our travels will be a great boon to us in our travels and I hope that you would be willing to talk with me about your travels and experiences!" he adds. His voice, somewhat throaty, low baritone, and reminiscent of a fine sandpaper, hits a slightly higher octave, betraying just how excited he is.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to him, and his eyes widen in realization. "Oh! Oh, I'm Songan, by the way! Songan Eyata! I fancy myself something of an amateur archaeologist." he states with pride.
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Dundin nods at the elf.
"Sounds like magic can be useful. I don't know if that is Agrimmosh. It is one big f*&*^&ing hammer we found. What do you know about it?"
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Songan's ears flatten against his skull, as if suddenly something has come to his mind that leaves him feeling rather embarrassed. "Oh! Did I not tell everyone? If I forgot, I'm sorry! Guess I got so excited after taking down Skreed that it could've slipped my mind completely. Yes, it's most definitely Agrimmosh. I've seen sketches of it in some of the books I've read on some of the various artifacts lost to history. It looks like a blacksmith's hammer made of stone, but see the symbol etched onto the side of it? That's Minderhal's holy symbol."
"See, according to the stone giants native to the Mindspin range, the giant god Minderhal used his hammer Agrimmosh to forge the first giants. They were not perfect, though, so Minderhal kept creating new kinds of giants until he finally created the 'perfect' giants, the stones. Satisfied that he'd done as good as could be done, he used Agrimmosh to destroy the anvil he'd created all the giant-kind on. That's where it got the title 'Hammer of Unmaking' from."
"According to legend, it will re-size itself to match the size of its wielder and that it can, periodically, allow the person wielding it to cast a spell of enlargement in himself. Not only that, but if an enemy is struck a particularly grievous blow with it, it will cause that enemy to shrink. Hearsay abounds that it can do more, but most of the tales require that it be struck against Minderhal's Forge in the Cathedral of Minderhal."
"I suppose it would make perfect sense that we found it where we did...according to legend, the last place it was seen used in battle was on Bloodmarch Hill, where the orc Chieftain Uskroth used it against the people that would become the first settlers of Trunau. It was said that Uskroth's favorite weapon was a stone warhammer named Agrimmosh...and it seems unlikely that there would be two of them."
Maslyn nods at Songan's introduction. "I would be happy to examine whatever relics you have, Songan. And I certainly do not mind telling you of my previous experiences. I welcome the chance to pursue scholarship with you, as the eye of the amateur may often see old facts in new light and offer new insights."
"You are a catfolk? I have never encountered one of your kind before as I have never traveled to the Mwangi Expanse where your people are most densely populated. I am eager to learn what you can tell me about your culture."
Maslyn nods at Songan's description of Agrimmosh.
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"I'm afraid I can't tell you a great deal about my people. I have no memory of my earliest years. The first things I can recall are of living on the streets in Firrine; I'm not even sure how old I am, only that I was at least old enough to take care of myself. I don't know about my parents, origins, or heritage outside of being a catfolk."
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"That is truly a sad tale. Perhaps we can discover your origins together?"
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He seems to hesitate a moment, then reaches into his tunic and pulls out a braided cord, at the end of which is a small compass, worn and battered with age. "This is the only clue I have. I have never been without it, near as I can recall. The needle is bent, but it still functions. There is an inscription on the inside cover, but no one I've ever shown it to has been able to tell me what language it is...or if it's a language at all. I don't think it's an ordinary compass, though...I would swear that I've sometimes seen it glowing faintly, on a particularly dark night, and sometimes the needle will suddenly point in a direction that is definitely not north. It was actually one of those times when I found Trunau. I've wondered often if it somehow it intentionally led me here."
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Delia blinks as she is suddenly overloaded with information about her home region from Maslyn; however, her mouth breaks into a wide grin. "I never knew this area was so rich in history! Thank you for that, Maslyn."
When Songan opens up about his past the grin slips into a sombre expression. He had never before spoken this deeply of his history and it was rather sad. She pats the catfolk on the back. "When all this business is finished, Songan, perhaps I can assist you as well."
Maslyn reaches toward the compass. "With your permission?"
He gently accepts the compass if offered and attempts to decipher the inscription.
Then takes an ornate leather sheath covered in tables of magical notation and arcane formulae from his bandolier, and lays both it and the compass on the table. Casting detect magic Maslyn proceeds to study the compass's magical aura.
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Songan willingly hands the heirloom to Maslyn, hoping he might have at least a bit more insight than others have offered or that he, himself, has gleaned over the years.
Looking to Delia, he smiles genuinely, though the expression reminiscent of a cat's look of smug satisfaction. "I would certainly welcome the help! I know I haven't spoken much about where I come from, but my life in Trunau has mostly been lived on the quiet side...until I happened to be chosen for Ruby's hopeknife ceremony. Since then things have happened so quickly that I haven't thought much explaining what ultimately brought me here!"
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Yes, it's most definitely Agrimmosh. I've seen sketches of it in some of the books I've read on some of the various artifacts lost to history. It looks like a blacksmith's hammer made of stone, but see the symbol etched onto the side of it? That's Minderhal's holy symbol.... Hearsay abounds that it can do more, but most of the tales require that it be struck against Minderhal's Forge in the Cathedral of Minderhal."
"So, it's supposedly the unholy weapon of a Giant god? An interesting tale, all the more so if there's any truth to it. Stranger things and all that. If it can make the wielder larger, I'd be interested in that magic." Adir thinks aloud.
"I would love to bash giants with their own weapon and crush them!! It would be the only way I can match their size in battle. And its a hammer!!"
Maslyn reaches toward the compass. "With your permission?"
He gently accepts the compass if offered and attempts to decipher the inscription.
[dice=Linguistics]1d20 + 9
[dice=Take 10 Spellcraft to identify a magic item]10 + 17
Linguistically Maslyn cannot identify the original language used in the inscription.
The magical inscription is in an ancient form of arcane script which is extremely difficult to identify. Maslyn can tell much of the intended syntax but cannot discern the overall meaning of the text. It is almost as though the inscription is actively resisting the attempt to be read.
Dundin returns from his meeting with a sense of purpose and belonging.
Yes, he was adopted son of Cham Larringfass. But now he was part of a larger clan. Not one holding on to a small territory, but one with big ambitions!!
And his new pet, Bobo too!! And Bobo too!!
Delia suddenly remembers something about their strange, other-worldly encounter, hoping that perhaps Maslyn would know about such things she waits until his attention is not otherwise occupied. "Maslyn, do you know much about ghosts? We encountered some a few nights ago during out investigation, but none of us know how to put the restless souls to peace."
Maslyn regretfully hands the magical compass back to Songan and returns his cheat sheath to its place in his bandolier. Regretfully he relates his findings to Songan. "Perhaps with time and continued study I might decipher its meaning. But I am afraid its mysteries defy my investigative abilities at this juncture."
He replies to Delia's inquiry.
"There are all manner of spirits, I am afraid I would need to see the manifestation first hand to gain any sort of insight. If you like we can investigate during the day before we leave? Preferably during the brightest part of the day?"
Maslyn taps the jade wayfinder which burns with heatless flame and hangs from his bandolier as he considers Delia's question.
[dice=Knowledge (religion) w/guidance]1d20 + 14 + 1[/dice]
Dundin asks the mage
"Can you see if this hammer has any curses or drawbacks? I wouldn't want to turn evil or anything."
Maslyn taps his glowing jade wayfinder as he examines Agrimmosh with the aid of his cheat sheath.
[dice=Spellcraft to identify a magic item w/guidance]1d20 + 17 + 1[/dice]
"The enchantments on Agrimmosh are extremely intricate. I am afraid it will require further study for me to tease them out. None of the legends surrounding the hammer hint at it being cursed, however."
Maslyn ponders the question of laying the unquiet spirits to rest.