GM Tyranius Giantslayer (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

Perception: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (19) + 17 = 36

At the shout from Rogzul, a loud snort comes from the bundle of sweat-stained leathers and hair that is Jorgan. He sits up with a start and cocks his head, listening to the sound the others have already noted. "Something's coming?" He reaches for his spear, never far from his side while sleeping, and moves quickly to mount Spirit, who is already awake. He covers himself and Spirit with magical protection (barkskin) and then nods to the others. "I'm sure we can take 'em, this'll be nothing, right?"

Kraygan sticks a finger in his ear to clear it. "What are ye all talkin' bout. I don't hear squat."

Noting something on his ear-cleaning-finger, he makes an ooooh sound and shows it to Wren.

Jorgan leaps to his feet at Rogzul's dire warning. Though his mind is fuzzy as nothing immediately attacks. Looking around Jorgan remembers that he closed off both of the entrances to this room. Placing a hand on the stone and listening carefully, it doesn't sound as if anything is chipping away or trying to break through his wall but rather further construction is possibly being created further down both of the tunnels. Are the giant's creating new tunnels or continuing on existing ones? Either way the situation is not as dire as initially predicted.

Wren nods as if this outcome is what he thought the entire time and is annoyed by being startled awake. He goes back to bed, grumbling.

In the morning, he will awake and be ready to go.

"What do you think they are doing? Well, I guess we will find out in the morning."

Rog shrugs. "It seemed threatening at the time. I guess I'll take the next watch."

He takes position near the east, just in case and waits for the party to finish resting before they decide which way to head next.

Just waiting on a direction to go on my end as you currently have 3 directions you can go.

Not fully awakened by the false alarm, Kraygan collapses back into a drunken stupor for a few more hours. Come morning he rattles to his feet, stretches, farts, and takes a drink from his horn to chase away a hangover. After brushing down and saddling up Haggis, he swings up to a mounted position and thrusts a stubby finger toward the cave where the giant had tried to escape.

"Onward!" He belches.

Ah, so rest of night was uneventful? I am assuming we are at A3 or close to it, correct?

Not being one for a lot of underground living, Farin has no idea which way is which. So he simply shrugs and says "Yah, it seems if he wanted to go there, it probably means more giants that way! Want me to scout ahead?"

Stealth: 1d20 + 31 ⇒ (10) + 31 = 41
Perception: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (19) + 25 = 44

The giant tried to escape down the singular tunnel. You couldn't tell it branched off at the time until you traveled several hundred feet further down it. The giant was stopped far before you could tell which tunnel he was planning on going down.

I keep getting ninja'd!

Farin flips a coin. 1d2 ⇒ 2 "How 'bout to the right?"

Wren nods at the thoughtful deliberation the yaktender uses to decide the direction and follows, floating along behind the group. While some other parties might use logic or survival to decide the path, looking for footprints or sounds, the halfling's bold focus on chance seems like a good idea.

Wren floats to the right.

"Right!" Kraygan belches again.

After resting Kraygan should be at 145 hp. Haggis should be fully healed.

Rog would have thrown a healing hex on everyone that needed one before the night ended, which has a base of +14, so you can consider yourself healed to full Kraygan.

Rog shrugs as Farin picks a tunnel.

"As long as there are giants to kill, Right is as good as any other."

Farin bends a knee at the fork in the tunnels and while it make look like an educated guess on which direction to go as he feels the ground he is in fact reaching into his pocket and flips a coin low to the ground.

Heads! The coin lands on with a dull thunk against the volcanic stone as Farin points to his right. "This way!"

As short distance down the tunnel all but Farin and Kraygan notice the shift in the ground as what looks to be a very well concealed pit has been dug by subtly shaping the stone. The pit looks to be nearly 20 feet across as it takes up the entirety of the floor. The giants must have sensed trouble and shifter tunnels throughout the night. A glint of metal within the pit flashes in the torchlight of the everburning torches lining the walls.

"I can fly, so can the elf. Can your rams jump it?" Rog says with a grunt. "They probably assume we'd die here, so there might not be much resistance further down."

"Jump what?"

Eventually Farin catches on to what Rog is talking about, amazed he didn't see the pit and glad that he didn't fall in it.

"Probably what we heard last night. I'll bet patrols are stepped up and traps are going to be plenty, so we better take it slow and easy."

How deep is the pit? Farin might be better at climbing down and back up again, unless inside is just crazy deadly.

"How much do you weigh, Yaktender? 2, maybe 3 stone?" Wren asks, looking down at the halfling from his flighty high. "I can probably carry you over, but don't get used to it."

If the Yaktender wants a lift over, Wren will cast Prestidigation and clean off the halfling before deigning to grapple and fly him over.

This might not be the end solution, but will see how others will handle the pit.

Kraygan eyes the gap. "I think Haggis could jump it."

Reigning his yak back for a running start he gives the command to his mount but Haggis doesn't budge. "C'mon now, ye kin do it!" Kraygan bounces up and down in his saddle, trying to urge the beast forward. Haggis pulls back on the reigns and eyes Kraygan over his shoulder as if to say up yours dwarf.

Farin looks down in the pit and estimates that it is nearly 50 feet deep as the metal below has a green tint to it as if some caustic sludge was poured over the rustic metal scraps hidden within the inky black darkness.

"Yep, that looks nasty. Sure, I'll take a lift. Just watch where you put you hands... hey, what are you doing?" Farin exclaims as the prestidigation spell does it's work. "Oh, well that is a weird feeling - a ghost giving a sponge bath! Well, it that's how you want it, who am I to complain."

Jorgan shrugs and says, "Spirit's not as good of a jumper since he's grown but he's still a ram, after all, and they're pretty fine jumpers."

20' jump is a DC 20 I believe. Here's hoping...

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

Spirit backs up and rears into a run, his hooves clacking along the stone floor until he takes a heroic leap into the air... and promptly crashes into the far wall, scrabbling to find purchase on the ledge but failing, bringing both ram and dwarf tumbling into the pit...

Oh no! Let's see how bad this can get!

Fall damage Jorgan: 5d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 1, 6, 4) = 16
Fall damage Spirit: 5d6 ⇒ (4, 6, 4, 4, 6) = 24

Pit spikes vs Jorgan AC 30: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18
Pit spikes vs Spirit AC 32: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (15) + 15 = 30

Jorgan steps back and urges Spirit into the leap, though Jorgan misjudges the height of the ceiling and smacks his head, hurtling him from Spirit's back into the pit. Spirit makes it most of the distance as he scrambles for ground with his hooves against the pit's walls but fails to gain any leverage and falls in after Jorgan. Luckily both have dense skin and armor and come out with minor injures as they thrash about in the poisonous metal, that makes a loud scraping sound all down the tunnel.

"Oh, no... Jorgan - I have a rope that I can attach with a grappling hook here for you to climb up, but Spirit won't be able to use it. I also have a potion that can turn one into a puff of smoke, but I am not sure that the Yak would know what to do with it. Do you want to try it?
We better decide quickly, though, as I think the noise is going to bring us guests soon."

Wren stifles a guffaw as the heroic yak goat and rider go spilling into the pit. He tries to keep from laughing as he keeps watch down the caravan.

'GOAT ANY LAST WORDS!' Wren laugh as he picture's Jorgan's face as they don't make it across. 'Stand back, I goat this!'

Wren chuckles and chuckles.

They are probably at the bottom wondering 'How did I goat here?'

"Ok, no way are we gonna try n' jump that ram pit... I mean damn pit."

Rogzul groans as Spirit fails to make the jump. Lowering himself a little bit into the pit, he casts fly on Jorgan.

"You and I should be able to lift your goat out" He grunts, waiting for Jorgan to calm the beast before grabbing onto it.

Bump. Whats the plan?

Bump. Whats the plan?

I think we're waiting for Jorgan to try again to jump out or climb out. Then we'll move. Need more input from Jorgan, really. Or ropes.

Yep. I only have the one rope.

Kraygan studies the pit for a minute as the other figure out how to rescue Jorgan.

"Haggis, I think yer too far get Wren t' carry. Maybe if ye were smaller..." A tindertwig flares in his mind. "Heh. Here, drink this." Kraygan gets out an oil of carry companion as rubs it on the yak's flank, shrinking him down to board game size. Putting him in a pocket he calls to Rogzul.
"Hey Rog, kin ye give me a lift?"

3 oils of carry companion remaining.

Does Jorgan have to jump or climb? I just cast fly on him.

When the half-orc is done helping Jorgan lift Spirit out, he flies over and helps Kraygan do the same, minus the falling bit.

Jorgan should just be able to fly as you cast fly on him. Looks as if you guys have a sufficient means to cross at this point.

It takes a few minutes but Rogzul and Jorgan are able to heft spirit out of the pits by his horns tp the opposite side of the pit. Kraygan takes a moment to stow Haggis as Rogzul makes a few continuous trips across, carrying each of the Trunau Militia across to safety.

After nearly an hour of walking Glowing red crystals and a few flickering torches light this cavern as it begins to open up. The intense reek of pig manure obviously comes from the small herd of domesticated boars wandering around the cavern. Each boar has a crude symbol branded on its flank, such as a sword, hammer, helm, or circle.

Boar droppings are spattered all over the room. Once per day, orc slaves shovel their way through the muck, creating paths indicated on the map by dotted lines. Any square not on this path counts as a slippery floor.

There is a slight breeze, but it seems to only stir up the odor of pig waste. The breeze comes from extra air shafts in the ceiling that keep the air in this room from becoming deadly, but aren’t enough to counteract the stink.

The boars require little care and eat almost anything, subsisting mainly on table scraps, small mushrooms, subterranean moss, leafy garbage, worms, and insects in the dirt and filth of their lair. In turn, the giants use the animals for their meat, hides, bristles, and underwool.

Because the boars are mostly self-sufficient, the giants assign ettins to look after them, knowing that the stupid brutes won’t have to do much to keep the pigs safe. The ettins are instructed to not let the boars wander out of the cavern and not allow the boars to come to harm by anyone except a fire giant. Every few days the boars are herded to a new cave to allow the previous one to replenish its food sources and give their manure time to dry out.

Four ettins keep watch on the livestock, each using its two heads to keep watch while slowly counting the animals on its fingers. Some of the Ettins look to count multiple times as they either lose count or simply just can't seem to agree on the count, fearing the wrath of the fire giants above.

"Well, these guys don't look like too much trouble, but there are a lot of exits out of here. Maybe we could try to lure a pig or two this way to bring them closer in?"

"Good idea. We'll back down the tunnel a bit, then you try herding a couple toward us."

Wren grunts as he looks over the boar and ettins.

"Let's be careful not to start a stampede. That might draw attention," Wren notes, preparing his various magics for when others are ready.

"How are you going to draw the boars closer?" Wren keeps flying high and out of sight while he waits.

"I can summon some near us and command them to wander around the tunnel entrance. Maybe it will confuse the Ettins and bring them here."

K. Nature: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (5) + 14 = 19 To determine if these are regular boars, dire boars, etc.

Rog will wait until the party retreats further down the tunnel then begin casting.

Summon Nature’s Ally VII 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 boars or dire boars.

"I was thinking about calling 'soo-ey!' really loud. Don't you think?
Seriously, maybe we just throw some food or something? What do we have?"

Wren doesn't regret on not stocking up on boar calling magic and begins to wonder if that is even a thing when Rogzul demonstrates that it is.

Hmm...

As the group moves further down the tunnel, leaving their backs to the pit behind them, Rogzul summons a pair of boars within the chamber. As the boars are brought forth they immediately begin to grunt and rut all about.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

The sound travels down the short chamber and a couple of the closer boars pick up on the sound and slowly begin to meander towards the tunnel. One of the Ettin's notices as the right head turns and begins counting again on it's left hand, coming up short. The complex mathematic equation begins to start a small squabble between the two heads as they begin to yell at each other. The Ettin's right hand pokes the left head right in the eye as the Ettin begins to roll on the ground, fighting with itself. A fight of which noone is a true winner.

The remaining Ettin's pay little attention as they begin their own count.

"Anyone have any good ideas? Squats, if that is your real name, why don't you send your boars to charge the ettins then run away...might be that they chase back this way?" Wren offers, waiting to do something.

Kraygan's beard bristles with amusement as he watches his companions try to herd pigs and ettins. Deciding this might require a simple-stupid solution, he begins snorting and squealing, doing his best impression of a boar in distress.

"SQUEE! SQUEEE! AWWW! SQUEEEEE!"

"See? It is a good plan! Of course, maybe if you conjured a lion to eat a couple of boars, that would have worked better."

"And then we'd have a stampede." Rog grunts, agreeing with Wren despite the elfs criticism of his plan.

"I thought the Ettin were at least as smart as Kraygan, I was wrong."

Listening well to the sounds the boars are making Kraygan begins to try to emulate them. Though without any special training and not having been around pigs much it is very deep and dwarven, almost sounding like a a dying yak instead.

The odd sound seems to draw the attention of the Ettins as they look over to the corridor. The sound seems to concern them but the safety and number counting seems to concern them a bit more as the one Ettin continues to beat itself up while continuing a verbal argument while another has a vicious game of rock paper scissors on who is going to go while a third Ettin plans to investigate it one his own. Meanwhile the fourth Ettin continues his own count.

Seeing the boars the Ettin rushes forward in an almost panic until he sees the Trunau Militia with yaks and a Ram. One of the heads grows incredibly confused as he begins to count on his fingers once again. "They send more to count? You slaves to clean up the poop?"

Out of sight, Wren holds his breath and waits quietly. He will act after others do.

"Yes, we brought you more to count. But we also need to pass through here so as to clean up the poop on the other side. Now make sure you count these new ones too or there will be hell to pay! Ok, let us through here while you finish your count - and count loud for all to hear, right?"

Bluff: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (12) + 19 = 31

Sorry for the disappearance; unexpected traveling the past few days.

Already looking the part of a dirty stabledwarf, Jorgan shifts his spear behind his back and nods vigorously. "A-yup. Expert shit-hauler here. And I'll get them boars brushed out and shine up their tusks like you wouldn't believe. Just need to go grab my brushes and other tools past you there." With his free hand he motions past the ettin.

Profession (stable master): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

"Oy! That's us. Here ta clean ye out." Kraygan rides past the first ettin. "From th' look o' things, I think yer in deep sh!t!"

Kraygan tries to manueuver into position for a clear charge at one of the far ettins.

Rogzul frowns deeply as Farin and Jorgan attempt to negotiate their way passed the Ettin.

...are we not here to kill giants...negotiations with Ettin, now I've seen everything... His spirits whisper in his ear as he clamps his mouth shut and makes sure not to sneer.