GM Tyranius Giantslayer (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

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Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

Clad in his newly claimed dwarven plate armor, Kraygan celebrates victory atop the high tower for the next few days, filling the Drakesbane Horn over and over and drinking his way through the giant's stockpile of beer and wine. Watching the army below turn on itself like a fire left untended, he cannot help but reflect upon their victory. It was a tale worthy of heroes, one that deserved to be retold in song and immortalized in stone relief. He doubted anyone would believe it.

***

Rolling a fresh keg through the cathedral, he comes across Rogzul and Wren in the midst of their philosophical discussion. Planting his feet on the ground and his adamantine gauntlets on his adamantine tassets, he gives a drunken belly laugh. "Gorum's bloody boots, how many do we have ta kill ta make ye happy elf?"

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so
Kraygan Steelkeg wrote:
"Gorum's bloody boots, how many do we have ta kill ta make ye happy elf?"

Wren turns his gaze to Kraygan.

"Killing? This has never been about killing, Dwarf..."...it has been about me dying. For something I believed in dying for. Wren shakes his head.

"We don't come here for this forge. We haven't done s!*+ but scattered a few tribes back to their homes. And now, we have this forge that we need to protect, but if we can't accomplish our true goal while we are shackled to it. You have sentenced me to die here for this..." Wren looks at the marvels of the forge and shakes his head. Near unlimited arcana power...now tethered to him like an anchor, a boulder of greedy regret.

"How can we leave this when the giants now know of it? How do we leave it lit in the hands of the giantess? What is our plan now, Dwarf? What have you consigned us to?"

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so
Kraygan Steelkeg wrote:
"Gorum's bloody boots, how many do we have ta kill ta make ye happy elf?"

Wren turns his gaze to Kraygan.

"Killing? This has never been about killing, Dwarf..."...it has been about me dying. For something I believed in dying for. Wren shakes his head.

"We don't come here for this forge. We haven't done s#*# but scattered a few tribes back to their homes. And now, we have this forge that we need to protect, but if we can't accomplish our true goal while we are shackled to it. You have sentenced me to die here for this..." Wren looks at the marvels of the forge and shakes his head. Near unlimited arcana power...now tethered to him like an anchor, a boulder of greedy regret.

"How can we leave this when the giants now know of it? How do we leave it lit in the hands of the giantess? What is our plan now, Dwarf? What have you consigned us to?"


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6

Jorgan shakes his head at Wren and turns to Kraygan, "Bah, don't worry yourself trying to please the elf. He's got a stick up his ass."

Listening to Wren's rant, Jorgan against shakes his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when dwarves would come to trust a giantess before an elf would. That giantess'll protect the forge and keep it out of the bad giants' hands. We're not consigned to anything! But we're taking it upon ourselves to find this Storm Tyrant fella and put him to rest for good, for the safety of our town. Now are you with us, elf? C'mon, quit being such a downer!"


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"Bah!" Kraygan blows out his beard in irritation. Flipping up the keg, he plunks down atop it with a clatter of shifting plate armor. It was clean a couple days ago, but has begun to take on a patina of food, grime, and beer. "Look 'ere. The giant's controlled this cathedral 'n the mount'ns 'n valleys all 'round. If they 'ad any brains they would'a figure'd how to lite the forge the'selves. Ye know why they didnae lite it? I kin think o' two reasons. One, cause they're idjits. And two, cause they're IDJITS! "

After a brief break to drink, he continues. "They didnae ken how to lite the forge before, and there's no reason to think that they ken that we've lit it now. An' it wouldnae do an army much good anyhow. It'd take near a month ta arm a dozen giants, an' it'd be a waste of time and gold. If yer a dozen feet tall ye don't need magic weapons to smash folk. Any old tree will do."

Kraygan pauses to let out a loud belch.

"Let's jus say, for th' sake of argument, tha th' giants come back 'ere. At least tha keeps 'em away from Trunau."

Leaning to the side, he punctuates his point with a big fart.


Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19

Not for the first time Rogzul looks at Kraygan with a mixture of discussed and admiration.

"They make good arguments. We can leave here, the giants are done with the valley, they haven't seen the forge lit, and have no reason to return. We'll be on the Storm Tyrant before they ever have reason to. Let's make use of it, outfit ourselves and move on. The sooner we move on, the sooner we defeat the tyrant, or die trying."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so
Jorgan Steelkeg wrote:
"Bah, don't worry yourself trying to please the elf. He's got a stick up his ass."

Wren 'bahs!' in return.

"Yeah, well I'd never thought I'd see the day when you'd choose an evil giant priestess of an evil giant deity over an elf, but here we are," Wren says.

Kraygan Steelkeg wrote:
Leaning to the side, he punctuates his point with a big fart.

"That last point was the best one you made, Dwarf," Wren says, trying to get his dander up. "Just because the piddlespotting giants were too piddlespotting stupid to light this forge themselves, doesn't mean that they won't be able to use it. Maybe...maybe...maybe we can douse the forge when we finish? Without Agrimosh, maybe they won't be able to relight it?" Wren says hopefully, thinking aloud.

1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17 Know (Arcana) - ways to put out flame or destroy forge


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"After all the trouble we went to ye want put it out again? If we kin get word ta Janderhoff I'm sure they'll send a company ta protect it. In the meantime, can't ye jus wiggle yer tiny fingers n' seal up the chamber or hide the forge with an illusion?"

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Wren ponders over ways to destroy the forge. While he knows many ways to put out a fire he can only think of a single way to possible destroy such an artifact.

Quenching Minderhal’s Forge with the blood of the last worshiper of Minderhal should cause the forge to crumble into rubble and be destroyed.

Though once the fire is extinguished it will take another blast of dragon's breath to be able to ever reignite it once again. Though after many days of using the forge Wren realizes that over the majority of the forges magical properties are useless without Aggrimosh.


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6

Jorgan shakes his head. "Nah, we shouldn't put it out. We might never light it again. As Kray said, let's send word to Janderhoff. This place will be crawling with dwarves soon enough, the giants wouldn't dare attack. And would be able to take it if they tried!"

Jorgan thinks a moment. "Now how do we get word to them? I could call a bird, but I can't speak to it. Can you speak to animals, Wren? Maybe we could just tie a message to it, but I'm not sure if I can get it to fly to Janderhoff. We'd need more magic for that, I'm guessing."

Jorgan has call animal but I'm now realizing that without speak with animals or charm animal that's kind of useless....

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

Wren shakes his head, disagreeing with Jorgan.

"Listen, dwarf. Either we stay here and guard it when we are done with it or your dwarves kin come to guard it or we put it out when we're done here. There is no argument about it. We can't try to relight it when we need it, but we can't leave it alight if it's unguarded. So call your clansmen if you wish. Have them here by the time we're ready to go," Wren says, grumpily trying to find a middle ground.

"If we can agree on that, then maybe I'll deign to help you with your creations. If not...." Wren doesn't know what the other option is. He doesn't even want to think about it.


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"Maybe a couple of us could ride for Janderhoff while ye get started here?" Kraygan suggests.

What about animal messenger? 1st level ranger/2nd level druid spell.


Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19

"Do you have some dragon fire laying about elf, that I don't know about, in case we need to make use of the forge again?"

Rogzul scowls at the ornery archer. "There is no need to destroy the forge or to put it out, and if we tried, we'll be forced to kill or subdue Etena, which if I recall we were all against since she is the one giant with any sense left in the world."


I am the 'One True Owner of Aggrimosh', Kraygan!
Stats:
HP: 121/121 | AC 25 | T 16 | FF 22 | Fort +12 | Ref +14 | Will +7 (+3 spells/SLAs/poison) | CMD 36 (+2) | Initiative +5 (+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Per. +17 (+2 & Auto-check Stone/+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Kn. (Dun.) +5 | Kn. (Nat.) +15
Resources:
Spells: Ranger: 1st- 3/3; 2nd - 3/3; 3rd - 1/1 | CLW: 100 charges

Torgan sighs as the remnants of the Bearded Brigade and their newly acquired orc begin to debate about the future of the forge and the future of their plans.

"AYE!" bellows the fiery dwarf. "Quit your bickering! Let me rest and I shall send word to Van about the forge and its power. He can have his new lass send her men to come guard it while our kin trundle their way here from the hills." says Torgan firmly.

"As for gear, all of you are looking a bit light on weapons and armor to defeat the Great and Fiery Beard. You are the best weaver of arcane magicks in the area, Prophet! Getting ourselves protected for our future mistakes rests squarely on your shoulders!" he says, practically chastising the elf.

"All of you! Give your stuff to Wren and he will enhance it, otherwise I will be forced to do so and we will all end up cursed. We will be the new giants that roam these halls after I make a few belts or helmets that turns us into the idiotic creatures." he says dourly.

Realizing what he has said, he turns to Etena. "No offense."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

I can't imagine we're having this discussion near Etena. Wren, already disliking the alliance with the giantess, wouldn't have it near her. If that's the case, ignore what Wren said above and below.

Rogzul wrote:

"Do you have some dragon fire laying about elf, that I don't know about, in case we need to make use of the forge again?"

Rogzul scowls at the ornery archer. "There is no need to destroy the forge or to put it out, and if we tried, we'll be forced to kill or subdue Etena, which if I recall we were all against since she is the one giant with any sense left in the world."

"Piddlespot the forge. And piddlespot Etena. What's she going to do if we put it out? Cry over it? Well, that's just fine. As long as she isn't crafting for the giants, I don't care."

Wren looks for sanity amongst the greedy. He points his fingers at Kraygan and Jorgan.

"We'll craft, but if your kin ain't here by the time we're done, or VanderOaf ain't here to take control of it, then we'll do what we have to do."

Wren spins on Torgan, eying his flaming beard and gazing in his piddlespotting eye.

"You. If I'm the prophet, hear my words of ill omen now. This forge is a forge of pain and misery. It has be used to forge the shackles for our people, for Trunau if we leave it alone. I won't let that happen. Not on my prophetic watch."

"If we don't have a way to guard this place, either we ain't leaving or we ain't leaving it lit. If it comes to that, I'll stay behind to guard it." Wren would obviously guard it for as long as it took to extinguish the flames of the forge.


I am the 'One True Owner of Aggrimosh', Kraygan!
Stats:
HP: 121/121 | AC 25 | T 16 | FF 22 | Fort +12 | Ref +14 | Will +7 (+3 spells/SLAs/poison) | CMD 36 (+2) | Initiative +5 (+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Per. +17 (+2 & Auto-check Stone/+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Kn. (Dun.) +5 | Kn. (Nat.) +15
Resources:
Spells: Ranger: 1st- 3/3; 2nd - 3/3; 3rd - 1/1 | CLW: 100 charges

I forgot to mention this for GM purposes. Torgan will use Animal Messenger to send word to the Steelkegs and to Van in the morning.

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Over the next few days Torgan and gang await word back from Vanderhoff and his lovely blond haired lass back at the Caste stronghold. By the end of the first week a bird makes it back as it chirps on the edge of the platform.

Torgan pulls the note free and unfurls it. It is Janderhoff's writing alright, though it looks hastily written.

Cousin,

This letter took so long as these thick headed knights took a bit of blows to get em to think straight. They didn't wanna send nobody as Giant's have been pouring out of the mountain in small bands.

Ye are doing Trunau proud and sending em running I bet. Anyway, I talked the commander into sending myself and a small group to protect yer Forge. Ye really got a Forge going?!?!?! Calrianne will be coming along also. We..... ugh.... We actually started seeing each other! Just don't tell that elf. He will probably say something inappropriate to her.

See you in a few days. We will be making our way there if you can send a map of where I need to go through the Valley to reach ya.

-Might of Trunau Vanderhoff


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6

Jorgan listens and thinks for a moment. "They'll be here, Wren. Don't worry. This place will be protected and then we can go find the Thunder Giant or Storm Giant or whatever he's calling himself. It'll all work out." Jorgan starts cleaning up his gear and getting ready to find a place to sleep off his weariness after so much excitement in just one day.

I should have time tonight to work on Jorgan's purchases/etc.

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

Wren seems surprised, *very* surprised at the response from Vanderhoff. He shrugs, head shaking, absorbing the new information.

"Fine. If he comes, he can tend and guard this forge. I still worry for it, but at least we have a plan," Wren says, resigned and reinvigorated.

Wren approaches the forge, his palms sweaty with magical anticipation...More on this coming tonight.


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Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

Wren finds Kraygan at the forge, apparently using it as a BBQ for meat taken from the giant's larders. Three days drunk, he's fallen asleep at a rotisserie, a crude thing he must have used he forge to craft, and the meat has burned down to little more then charcoal nuggets.

Liberty's Edge

4 people marked this as a favorite.
M Elf Age: 252 or so
Wren. wrote:
Wren approaches the forge, his palms sweaty with magical anticipation...

...and spins in his heels, snapping his fingers with ah-ha, and running out and up the stairs. A music plays a forgotten and soon-to-be song(link). For best results, have this playing in the background as you read this post. Crafting montage, biyotches.

Scene 1:
Risin' up, back on the streets
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance
Now I'm back on my feet
Just a elf and his will to survive

Wren feels the heady rush of arcane creation build as he runs up the stairs, seeking the exact thing he needs to begin his orgy of creation. He bounds by Torgan, a smirk on his lips while the dwarf bathes in what appears to be beer. Wren's blood pulses in a beat that he does not understand, yet he agrees with. His heartbeats are echoed by the bubbly toots coming from the bathwater.

Wren draws his Trunau blade, his hopeknife, his valued treasure from his time in Trunau as he skids to a stop in front of the giant chieftain body. With a grim look, his dagger is plunged into the giant's arm, cutting away sinew, bone, and tendon in cadence with the beating of his heart.

With the lower arm hacked free, Wren returns to the forge with his prize 'in hand'.

Scene 2:
So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

Wren approaches the forge, his face a mask of intense concentration. He nudges the sleeping yak off the anvil surface and put it to work on the bellows, each blast of air pushing untold arcane energies into the severed hand as Wren guides and channels the torrents into creation.

Wren notes at the yak (he thinks it's Malt, but has a hard time telling them apart) shares the same beating rhythm as the beats in his blood and as the energies of the forge.

Scene 3:
It's the Forge of the Giants
It's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge
Of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the
Forge of the Giants

Wren spins, turning to give Jorgan the shooty-shooty fingers as his pelvis thrusts to the beating of the forge. He allows arcane energies to build as he yells over the din to Jorgan. He sees that Jorgan waits his turn at the forge.

"Jorgan! Jorgan! HOW DO YOU KNOW IF A DOG BELONGS TO A BLACKSMITH!?"
Assuming Jorgan desires such wisdom: "How, Elf?"
"WHEN IT'S IN TROUBLE, IT MAKES A BOLT FOR THE DOOR!!"

Wren offers two head bobs of smirking glory and slowly shimmies back to the crafting and binds the accumulated arcane energies into the hand.

Scene 4:
Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds
Still we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive

Wren returns his concentration to his giant...his new hand. This, outside of his scroll work, would be his first attempt at creating magic rather than just knowing it in theory or just what he thinks are tricks. This was his chance to create magic in permanence, magic that would last. Magic that would *endure*.

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (18) + 18 = 36 Spellcraft - craft

As the energies build into the giant hand, it begins to shrivel and harden as the lifeforce within it is transformed to reservoirs of arcane power. The fingers, save the middle one, desiccate down into a fist, only the middle one remains pointed.

Wren's head bobs with the beats of creation.

Scene 5:
It's the Forge of the Giants
It's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge
Of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the
Forge of the Giants

Wren channels yet more energies into the hand, hours of concentration and focus. Each moment a study of the Elf's will dominating the forge and energies released, capturing them and binding them to his will and his focus.

A few drops of sweat fall from his brow, the heat and effort wringing him like blood from the giant's hand. And still he crafts.

Scene 6:
Risin' up straight to the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Went the distance
Now I'm not gonna stop
Just a elf and his will to survive

Nearly finished, he calls over Kraygan hurriedly. Wren knows what he needs and believes Kraygan as the one to help.

"Dwarf! KRAYGAN! Come here, quickly! LOOK!! LOOK!!!" Wren says, pointing with his free hand at some aspect of the forge or the magics therein. "See? Do you see?!" Wren asks, insistent.

And when the dwarf looks, Wren's daggered hand quickly cuts off two long blonde braids from the dwarf's scalp.

Wren then looks at the thing at which he was point.

"Oh, it was nothing. I thought it was something...nevermind."

When Kraygan leaves, Wren weaves the strands of hair into a strap for the hand, binding them together in a strand for wear.

Scene 7:
It's the Forge of the Giants
It's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge
Of our rival
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he's watching us all with the
Forge of the Giants

Wren releases Malt(?) from the bellows, wiping off the surface while holding his new Hand of Piddlespotting Glory in one hand and slipping it around his neck. His eyes are wild with magic fervor, a spirit of creation, of magic, of arcane pulsing through him to creation.

He shows his hand to all in the forge...and leaves it to the next crafter.

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Over the next several weeks, while the group waits for Jorgan, Calrianne and the Knights from Castle Firrine to arrive, the forge is put to the test as Wren works tirelessly creating many magical properties for the group new and improved equipment.

With the Storm Tyrants army on Minderhal Valley dispersed he still remains a serious threat to the region. At least because of the flying cloud castle in his possession, but the location of the floating fortress remains unknown.

Weeks earlier the Trunau natives learned of the existence of a giant training camp in the Frost Giant village of Skirgaard, where recruits from the Cathedral of Minderhal have been sent for military instruction. Shutting down the camp can strike a further blow against the Storm Tyrant and perhaps learn more of his plans.

Skirgaard sits atop a plateau in the Mindspin Mountains approximately 150 miles south-southwest of the Cathedral of Minderhal. using the map from the Cathedral you have little difficulty locating Skirgaard. The journey takes 12 days by foot where the group encounters the occasional frost worm and frost giant patrol. The journey becomes more difficult with each passing day as the air becomes harder to breath and much much colder. The plataue sits 9000 feet above sea level. High enough for a permanent snow line.
DC 15 Fort save or 1d6 NL damage for cold weather
DC 15 Fort save or fatigued due to altitude sickness

The village of Skirgaard is home to the Skiraling frost giant tribe. Getting close to the village the groups keen eyes can tell that this village is unlike anything they have dealt with before. Multiple patrols wander the outskirts of the area as watchtowers stand every few hundred feet apart. Skirgaard is several miles in length.

Two maps are posted above to formulate plans on how you want to try to enter. If you wish to investigate certain areas more let me know. So far as you can tell is the 'a' buildings are the watchtowers.


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6

Hey! I understand getting Jorgan and Torgan mixed up but Jorgan has been (a bit) more present than Van lately to be getting them mixed up! Haha.

Also, since we had some leftover gold I suggest getting a wand of endure elements for the group to share since we're traveling up into the cold mountains. Maybe we should even get two, as we'll burn through it really quickly keeping all the animals covered too.

Jorgan watches Wren's crafting progress from afar with fascination. Never seen that kind of passion from the elf before. He hasn't complained in hours... days, maybe. And he wanted to destroy the thing!

---

Up the mountain scouting out the giant village village, Jorgan notes "Terrain around the town looks pretty steep. I don't think we're going to come in from the back or sides unless we fly or tunnel in. Those watchtowers are going to be tough to get past but if we can take one of them out quietly we might be able to sneak in without anyone knowing."

"So as to that, any ideas? Wait... what if we build a giant wooden yak?"

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Doh! Haha. I have no explanation for how that one even happened. It was umm...late. Let's go with it was late. :)


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Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

For the first few days at Minderhal's Cathedral Kraygan was fascinated by Wren's labors in the forge, but his interest waned when one of the first items to come from the flames was a crude amulet in the shape of a hand making a rude gesture. Figuring it was the elf's blunt way of telling everyone to sod off, Kraygan left him to it without bothering him again. Every few days something new would appear outside the forge doors, and he celebrated a little more when one of them was his requests.

After that time seemed to fly by, or perhaps it was the magical effect ale has on memory when one drinks as much as two dwarves. He'd never blacked out before, but there were definitely things he couldn't recall during this binge - like Vanderhoff's name and two missing braids. After that he cut back on the drink, much to everyone's relief.

Once on the road he started rationing his supplies, and thus is mostly sober as the group considers the giant camp.

"Aye. A wooden yak and Wren's fart clouds got us inta Redlake Fort. Could we try that again?"


Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19

I'm all for the endure wands, in any case Rogzul will prepare 5 endure elements a day a use them as needed.

"Most enemies would learn not to fall for the same tactic twice, but giants..." Rog shrugs, unsure if the wooden yak and 'fart clouds' is really the best approach. He shuffles quietly in the snow, wondering if his coarse hair, or his mammoth lord bloodline would help him survive the cold without magic.

No reason to find out.

While waiting for the dwarves to decide on the wooden yak, he send Kashag into the air to scout, hoping the bird may find an opening in the defenses or anything similar from high above.

Kashag Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (19) + 16 = 35

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

After his Hand of Piddlespottin' Glory (TM) is crafted, Wren goes for a drink, emptying out most of Torgan's bathwather in the process (or at least as much as he can handle) of celebration. He is giddly, happy, exultant. He was successful...magically successful.

And for that, he drank. He promptly passed out due to exertion and tiredness, but he drank and passed out. And it was good.

When given another shot at the Forge, he extends the power of his headband, filling it with arcane knowledge until it can hold no more. His belt, once a simple item, doubles in power and enhances his quickness to new speeds. Another pearl, then another more powerful pearl is created. And Wren exults in the creation.

He barely registers the return of Jorgan, the Dame Blix, and the knights when they arrive. He is pleased by seeing them as puts aside his plans to douse the forge flames if they never showed.

When his craftings are done, Wren seems sad to be leaving the forge, almost wishing to melt down his recent craftings for the option craft them again.

* * *

For the first day of extreme cold, Wren can only protect himself. However, after that first day, Wren can protect himself and 5 others pretty easily. Extended Endure Elements, regular Endure Elements, pearl 1 recasting & Pearl 2. Do we need to cover the yakkenhorde?

GM Tyranius wrote:

The plataue sits 9000 feet above sea level. High enough for a permanent snow line.

DC 15 Fort save or 1d6 NL damage for cold weather
DC 15 Fort save or fatigued due to altitude sickness

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 Fort vs. DC 15

Wren sucks air as he body adjusts to the high altitude, his magics already protecting him from the cold.

He lays down next to Kraygan and examines the village, looking for a way in.

More tomorrow, wanting to see what the scout reports or other ideas.

EDIT: p.s. Great maps. 3D and all. Nice.


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

Fort vs Altitude + Endurance: 1d20 + 18 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 18 + 4 = 28

Kraygan is unaffected by the thin air. A benefit of a thick skull perhaps. Or a brain half starved for oxygen at normal altitudes.

"It appears they've got a few tunnels that go underground. If we're lucky some of 'em might meet up. If we kin get past the watchtowers I say we head fer them. Maybe the ones in that pit."

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Kashag spends a lot of time circling the massive giant stronghold. Numerous patrols scout and circle throughout the region consisting of Ice trolls, frost giants and winter wolves.

A=Watchtowers. This solitary watchtower, enormous by human standards, consists of a wooden, hexagonal platform supported by six poles, each the size of a large tree. A large hut sits on top of the platform. Underneath, a sloping ramp and staircase climb up into the center of the tower. Eleven watchtowers are placed throughout Skirgaard, forming the central core of the village’s defenses. There looks to currently be a single sentry per tower at this moment consisting of a Frost Giant.

B=Giant Encampments. Enormous hide tents litter the landscape here, erected in wavering lines and interrupted in places by large fire pits. The snow is mixed with mud and flattened to the ground from the heavy footfalls of a small army. Even in the open air, the pungent smell of unwashed bodies in close proximity is too strong for any breeze to diminish for more than a moment. The encampment is divided into two distinct campsites, a lower camp (area B1) and an upper camp (area B2) to the north. The lower camp also hosts an obstacle course where the giants can develop their skills in moving through human settlements.

C=Winter Wolf Warrens. A natural path runs west along a rock wall to the north, rising to a wide ledge. Four large cave openings yawn in the face of the cliff, overlooking the encampment below. The caves extend into the mountainside and vanish into the darkness.

D=?????????. A large, flat-topped log building squats in this remote part of the village. A well-trodden path leads to barn doors set in the main structure to the south and east. An area open to the sky stands adjacent to the north side of the building, surrounded by a tall stockade fence that blocks outside view, with a gate set in the northeast side. Built into the north side of the fence stand animal pens designed to let creatures in or out on either side. Smoke rises from the rooftop, and a rank odor pervades the entire area.

E=?????. Were it not for the pitched roof and stone fireplace, this ramshackle, single-story wooden building could be considered a shack, albeit one of immense size. A covered porch overhangs the eastern side of the structure, sheltering a door and two shuttered windows. A second door exits the building to the west, flanked by two smaller windows. The snow all around the porch is trodden into mud, and the smell of cooking food wafts from within.

F=Storage Silo. An unadorned stone building stands here, more a silo than a tower. A steady line of footprints leads to a single large door set in the structure’s southeastern side.

G=Mammoth Stockade. A giant-sized rail fence cordons off this large plot of land. To the north are four large barn-like structures. A barred gate is built into the fence to the south. Bales of grass and other vegetable matter are stacked on either side of the barns.

H=?????. This building is a wooden, warehouse-like structure. It stands approximately 20 feet tall, with two strong wooden doors.

I=Mine and Target range. This hilly elevation on the plateau is hollowed out in the center, forming a dry basin. A series of sloped ledges wind around to the bottom, where the depression is flat and level. The curvature of the rock walls lends itself to the appearance of a natural arena. At the bottom, several large caves open into the northern rock wall. The ceiling and walls of the caves are supported by wooden beams, visible from the entrances. Across from the caves, on the southeast side, are a series of wooden target dummies. Small piles of round boulders are stacked around the basin’s rim.

J=?????? A rectangular stone building sits adjacent to a frozen pond. Two wooden walkways lead from the building over the ice. Spurs of jagged metal jut from the ice at odd diagonals.

K=??????. From outside, this wooden structure appears to be a barn or warehouse, its pitched roof rising forty feet above the ground. The oversized double doors in the north and south walls are sized for giants, as is an exterior flight of stairs that runs along the north side of the building.

L=?????? A wooden longhouse, as large as a human palace, stands in a snowy clearing here. The building is windowless, but has three sets of double doors along its southern face. A plume of smoke rises from a stone chimney on the building’s eastern end.

M??????. A large wooden structure with a peaked roof and two sets of massive barn doors set at either end sits in the shadow of a nearby watchtower. A pair of gigantic ram’s horns is mounted above the eastern doors, while gigantic crossed lances are set above the western doors.

N=Slave Pens. Long rows of small wooden shacks huddle together in this fencedin yard. They are unpainted, crude structures, unfit for long-term human survival in the cold environment. A few communal fire pits are scattered among the sheds. The fallen snow is mixed with dirt and frozen mud, trampled down by the milling of countless feet, both large and small.

O=???????. A set of ancient stone stairs carved from the mountain climbs to a hexagonal stone dais covered in rime, with chiseled runes barely visible underneath. An ice sculpture depicting a giant, bearded figure stands atop the dais. The sculpture’s features are angular and chiseled, with an inhuman, almost elemental, quality about them. Jagged shards of ice form the figure’s beard and hair. The air in the immediate vicinity is even colder than elsewhere on the mountain plateau.

P=?????? This colossal stone edifice appears to be sculpted from the living rock. Stairs ascend between massive columns, each carved in the form of a frost giant from a previous age, to a portico where three sets of double doors are set in the southern face of the structure. Additional columns flank the east and west sides.

Q=????? Caves. Four large cave entrances gape here, set high upon a cliff ledge that overlooks the village. Their shadowed depths lead directly into the side of the mountain.

R=Unaccounted for Watchtower?. This watchtower is of identical construction to the other watchtowers in Skirgaard (see area A), but it is currently uninhabited. The roof of the hut atop the tower has been removed. Bones litter the ground around the tower, and large gouges mar much of the woodwork, as if from large claws.

S=??????. A towering humanoid colossus crafted of constantly burning wicker and wood stands before the carved doors of the giant tomb overlooking Skirgaard.

As the group awaits Kashag's return a large winter ram skitters about in the brush. It's eyes a deep red. Seeing the group it stops for a moment before going back to grazing on some nearby frozen brush.

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

"Thanks, Squats. Little Shart there is a fine scout," Wren commends the half-orc, having never been introduced to the bird by name.

Wren grunts as he listens to Rogzul's report of his familiar's scouting. He lets loose with a fart (a small one by dwarf standards) and doesn't seem too embarrassed about it. After being among the dwarves and yaks for so long, a shaving of his propriety and manners has worn away. He does care about the rudeness of it.

"We're going to try to take this place down? What does that mean? Destroy all the giants within? Kill the leadership? I mean, the plan when we spoke of it in Trunau was to stop the giants, but how that we're here and seeing it, I just don't know."


Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19
Wren. wrote:
"Little Shart"

"No." Rogzul interrupts the elf, eyeing him coldly and gripping his spear tighter.

"The spirit within him is a better man or warrior than any of us will ever be. He is Kashag and deserves even your respect."

Turning from Wren, Rog eyes the ram warily before speaking to the dwarves. "You know giants better than I do. Which of these buildings would hold the leader? If we kill him they will fall. We can try to arm any humans that may live in the smaller shacks as a diversion if we can get there undetected."


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6

So if we're covered with endure elements then we just have to worry about altitude sickness. There's some ways to prevent that but I think it would be pretty costly.
Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24
Spirit Fort: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Despite being a creature of the Mindspin Mountains, Spirit has been spending far too much time in the lowlands recently and has lost his altitude affinity. The poor goat is quite exhausted by the time the giant fort is reached.

Wren. wrote:
"We're going to try to take this place down? What does that mean? Destroy all the giants within? Kill the leadership?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Kraygan Steelkeg wrote:
"It appears they've got a few tunnels that go underground. If we're lucky some of 'em might meet up. If we kin get past the watchtowers I say we head fer them. Maybe the ones in that pit."

"I think that sounds like a good idea. But we've still gotta make it past the towers without an alarm going off and alerting the whole fort. How do you suppose we do that?"

"Wren, could you make more fart clouds like at the other fort? You could get us in close and we could storm up the tower and take down the guards before they even know what's going on. If you can get us in close, we'll do the butchering easily enough I think."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so
Rogzul wrote:
"He is Kashag and deserves even your respect."

Wren seems taken aback. "He has a name, Squats? That is a good name, 'Kashag', which doesn't sound remotely #weird at all. Does it have significance in your language? After all, I was named after a bird, might be your bird was named after...?"

* * *

Jorgan Steelkeg wrote:
"Yeah, exactly."

"No, not exactly. We can't take on an entire camp."

Wren looks at Jorgan while batting his Hand of Piddlespotting Glory from side to side on his chest.

"No, I don't think the fog clouds are going to work here. It was different at the Castle, here...here is is too easy for them to come look for me. There are no walls. Also, there are too many towers for us to think that others won't see what is happening," Wren replies.

"But yeah, those caverns seem like the best way. I guess we could try that. If it were me, I'd climb up the backside and come down from the mountains near {area O on map}, floating down from above and start our assault there. I dunno. Just thinking."


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"Climbin up the back. Is that possible? And what do ye mean by float down from above?"

Kraygan gathers some stones and sets up a rough map in the snow. "No matter which way we come in, we gotta deal with those watchtowers somehow. With only one giant guard in each, we could take one quickly, but we'll still need to get to it before an alarm is raised. Goin in on a moonless night would be our best chance. Giant's got good vision, and kin see like dwarves in pitch black, but only out to short distance."

After thinking a moment, Kraygan shakes his head. "On second thought, they might not see us, but I don't know how they wouldnae hear us. Stealthy, we aint."

"What about ambushin one of their patrols, dressin up like giants, and marchin in at sunset? Agrimmosh could make us big enough to pass in dim light I'd think, and I speak the giant tongue."

@GM: is it possible to circle around and somehow approach Area O from the NE?

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Looks like you should be able to get to a path above it and drop down near 'O' in some way shape or form.


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"The only problem I got with sneakin around and droppin down the cliff is that puts us in a tight spot with no route of escape if things go sour."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

Wren waits to hear what Torgan and Rogzul might offer.


Male Dwarf Stableboy 14 | HP 146/170 | AC 30 T 14 FF 28 | CMD 29 (34 disarm, +2 w/ Spirit) | Fort +14 Ref +12 Will +11 (+2 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +6 | Perc +17 (+2 stonework)
Spirit:
HP 9/144 | AC 37 T 10 FF 35 | CMD 32 (34 b.rush/o.run, +2 w/ Jorgan) | Fort +15 Ref +10 Will +6 (evasion, +4 enchant) | Init +2 | Perc +6
Kraygan Steelkeg wrote:
"The only problem I got with sneakin around and droppin down the cliff is that puts us in a tight spot with no route of escape if things go sour."

"Right. I like the idea but you make a good point. I like the simpler approaches. Either we go under cover of fog and take out the watchtowers one-by-one or we examine these tunnels and such to see if we can find a way in that also gives us a quick way out in case we need to recover."


Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19

Forgotten altitude roll: 1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 5 + 4 = 18

"The unmanned watchtower is near some of the cave openings. If we could find a tunnel leading there, we may be able to get a better view of the encampment and better plan our assault." Rogzul says, agreeing with the proposed tunnel exploration.

He seems barely able to concentrate, in his minds eye he keeps seeing the Mammoth Stockade, wondering if he'll finally get to meet the very beast his fathers people were named for, the animal that inspires his warrior spirit to action. He's anxious to be moving but has very little in the way of tactical input.


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

Grunting at the input from Jorgan and Rogzul, Kraygan's eyes keep turning to the watchtowers.

"Wren, kin ye still make folk invis'ble? I'm thinkin that maybe Jorgan could do somethin with the wood supports o' one of them towers. Make one 'accidentally' fall over. Would be a good distraction, and put a hole in ther defenses too. Might give us a chance to take on one part o' the camp at a time."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

Wren looks from dwarf face to orc face to dwarf face, then even at the yaks to see if any of them had anything interesting to say. He listens, he appreciates, he weighs the merits of each idea. He doesn't want to toss any idea away (no matter how silly) but realizes he has to try to reign in some of the conceptually unfeasible ideas.

"Uh, maybe you think I'm some great wizard," Wren scoffs, "But I'm no Stormbinder nor even Foglord...I can't produce enough fog to cover the enormous asses of your hugenormous yaks. In case you haven't noticed...they are big beyond big now. And I don't have enough magic for all that. And as far as making us all invisible...well, you surely have me confused with a true battle mage because I can barely harness the simplest illusions, let alone such a grand one as to hide the hugenormity of the asses, again. If case you lunkheads haven't noticed...your yaks are piddlespotting huge. They are bigger than giants. They are WAY too big to hide. Unless you're going to leave them behind, of course. But no, there isn't enough fog and cloud in the Eye of the World to hide them from those towers."

Wren crosses his arms, thinking.

"So...maybe the tunnels then?" Wren looks at Rogzul. "You think you can get us into the tunnels, Squats? Where do they come out?"


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

"Ye think we think yer capable o' all that! Har! I was only hopin ye might make Jorgan invis'ble. Then maybe plop down a fart cloud on one r' two watchtowers. I mean, why try n' cover all o' us when ye jus could cover one o' them? Then we kin ride in and make fer one of the caves 'r outlayin buildins, like those two barns near the slave pens."

Inspired now, Kraygan continues "planning".

"So our yaks 'r huge. Tha's a good thing, cause we could hide in bags n' barrels while Rogzul leads us in. If he uses his magic to make hisself big he could pass fer a dumb ogre deliverin food n' supplies, and maybe an elven slave, from Minderhal." Turning to Rogzul. "Kin ye speak giant?"


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I am the 'One True Owner of Aggrimosh', Kraygan!
Stats:
HP: 121/121 | AC 25 | T 16 | FF 22 | Fort +12 | Ref +14 | Will +7 (+3 spells/SLAs/poison) | CMD 36 (+2) | Initiative +5 (+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Per. +17 (+2 & Auto-check Stone/+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Kn. (Dun.) +5 | Kn. (Nat.) +15
Resources:
Spells: Ranger: 1st- 3/3; 2nd - 3/3; 3rd - 1/1 | CLW: 100 charges

Fort-Torgan | DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Fort-Malt | DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13 That's about right. Fatigued, right?

Torgan lays completely flat on the howdah that he crafted during their time at the Dwarven Forge. "Unnnnnh... It's so hard to breathe..." he moans as Malt wheezes and moos weakly, lugging the little dwarf around with the rest of the party.

"Whatever you lot decide." he says, weakly raising his hand from the wood. His eyes are closed and he doesn't even deign to look at you.

He idly reaches for his mug of winter ale, but the iron-wrought container is just out of his reach. Torgan's head lolls to the side and his eyes wearily open and he stares death's daggers at the cup, but he can't seem to reach mug.

Sighing in defeat, he merely lets his arm fall limply back to the platform.


I am the 'One True Owner of Aggrimosh', Kraygan!
Stats:
HP: 121/121 | AC 25 | T 16 | FF 22 | Fort +12 | Ref +14 | Will +7 (+3 spells/SLAs/poison) | CMD 36 (+2) | Initiative +5 (+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Per. +17 (+2 & Auto-check Stone/+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Kn. (Dun.) +5 | Kn. (Nat.) +15
Resources:
Spells: Ranger: 1st- 3/3; 2nd - 3/3; 3rd - 1/1 | CLW: 100 charges

I assume since we have had several weeks to prepare and knew we would need to explore a new area that Torgan could prepare spells accordingly?

As the fiery dwarf hears the chastising words of Wren, either real or imaginary, he rolls over and squints out of one eye at the group. Completely unaware of his surroundings, the dwarf knocks his mug of winter ale off the platform into the snow.

"Blasted ogres!" he curses as he reaches for the mug, but the height of Malt is easily too far for him to reach the ground, yet the dwarf still tries for a few seconds.

His mind finally moving back towards the problem at hand, Torgan looks at the ogre settlement. "I think you are all wrong, though some more than others." he mutters as he rolls back onto his back and closes his eyes once more.

When prodded, Torgan gets snippy. "The Prophet just wants to die at the hands of the giants, likely to escape the smell of yak." he remarks.

"Kray, for some reason, believes that Squats is a liar good enough to fool guards or that the rumbling of our horde across the grounds wouldn't be noticed if the Prophet could even conjure that much fog, which he has stated that he cannot. And that would just get us into the middle of the camp with no real purpose."

"Jorgs, a guerrilla-style raid would be effective if we had even a tenth of the numbers of the giants, but there are only five of us."

"That being said, the lot of you had a few good ideas, but no one has seemingly asked the right question." Torgan summarizes and waits expectantly.

After a few seconds, he flicks his hand in annoyance, still keeping his eyes closed as he lays on his back. "Why are we here and what can we do to directly accomplish this?"

"We are here to do the same bloody thing that we did at the Cathedral and the Fort. Kill the leader and get the rest to flee back into whatever cesspool they grew out of." Torgan says with a sneer. "That a@*%++* is probably spending his night in that large building in the back." he says, motioning vaguely towards the camp. Building L

"Those dragon caves (Q) are likely our easiest entrance if they exit somewhere else and we can hug the wall to the boss' lair." he states as he groans, moving his hand to his pack and fumbling around in the front pocket. Torgan pulls out a vial of honey and drips a bit onto the platform as several furry bees come to investigate from the nearby trees. With a few clicks of his tongue, the bees begin to buzz and swarm in response to Torgan.

With a point from his stubby finger, the bees race off towards the caves.

Time in Hours: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Insect Scouts Spell - 2nd Level Ranger:
This spell summons one or more vermin to investigate a single location or building you can see. Your scouts must spend 1d6 hours investigating the target location, but need no oversight. When done, they return unerringly to you with their findings, traveling up to 1 mile per caster level you have to rejoin their master. Each insect’s size is Fine. Each insect has 1 hit point, AC 20 (+2 Dexterity, +8 size), a movement speed of 5 feet, a climb speed of 5 feet, and a fly speed of 20 feet (perfect maneuverability). The insects use your saving throw bonuses, have a total Perception skill bonus equal to 5 + 1/2 your caster level, and can’t attack. Because of their incredibly small size and magical nature, they can attempt Stealth checks to avoid being noticed even if they lack a source of cover or concealment, and they have a total Stealth skill bonus equal to 18 + 1/2 your caster level.

Each scout that returns passes along memories of specific structural flaws, defenses, and alarms, granting you the ability to reroll one failed skill check per scout, as long as the skill check involves that specific location’s layout, such as a Stealth check to sneak in, a Disable Device check to silence an alarm, or a Perception check to notice a trap. If even one scout returns, you also gain a rough understanding of the building’s layout (at least, any portions your scouts could access). All insight (and the associated rerolls) fades 1 hour per caster level you have after the scouts return. Your insects remember nothing about creatures, and so provide no information about guardians or any conversations they may overhear.

Torgan is CL 6, so there is a single bee scout.

As the bees race off, Torgan rolls over and grabs his heavy blanket from his pack, despite not being cold due to Rogzul's spell. "Now leave me alone for the next few hours. I'm trying to sleep."

Liberty's Edge

M Elf Age: 252 or so

Wren's face turns from annoyance at Torgan's laziness to surprise as the dwarf provides some useful commentary. His head tilts when Torgan breaks out the honey and starts talking to bees.

However, the very real words of arcane power cause him to hold back on some particularly biting sarcasm. He watches as Torgan commands the bees and they seem to obey.

He looks at Torgan with eyebrow raised.

"Piddlespot, Torgan. I didn't think you knew how to bee-have. Let's see what they come back with. I bet they are of a hive mind to tell us what's a'buzz," Wren stings.

Wren sits back and fondles his new bow, wondering when he'll have a chance to use it.

"We'll see what those bees say and plan again."


Epic Drunk | HP 186/186 | AC 33 T 14 FF 31 | CMD 37 (39 vs Trip/Sunder, 43 vs Trip if standing on the ground) | Fort +24 Ref +12 Will +10 (+4 poison/spells/SLA) | Init +2 | Perc +12

Kraygan looks from Torgan to Wren, then to the bee vanishing into the distance, then to Wren again, then finally back to Torgan.

"Huh??"

Looking to Haggis, the yak snorts as if to say "How should I know. I'm a yak."

I keep forgetting to roll Haggis' check vs altitude.
Haggis Fort vs DC 15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

Bee stealth: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (3) + 23 = 26
Bee Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
GM Roll: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

After several hours, Another DC 15 Fort save or 1d6 NL damage for cold weather and DC 15 Fort save or fatigued due to altitude sickness. Ignore the altitude if already fatigued. Torgan's bee returns and reports its findings within the cave. The ledge outside the caves is approximately 20 feet wide and covered with ice. The caves lead to a series of chambers which are littered with bones and the refuse of multiple large predators. The northern ends of these chambers slope downward and are covered with rime.

As the group waits Jorgan watches the red eyed ram as it edges a bit closer to the group. It slowly strips away frozen evergreen leaves from a plant and eats them little by little.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Half-Orc Shaman of the Twisted Nail
Stats:
HP114/114 | AC 23T 10 FF 23| CMD 28 | Fort +8 Ref +8 Will +18| Init +4 | Perc +25
Skills:
Acro+9;Cmb+8;K.Nature+14;K. Religion +9, K.Planes+10;Perc+25;Splcrft+16;Surv+19
Torgan Steelkeg wrote:
"Kray, for some reason, believes that Squats is a liar good enough to fool guards."

"I convinced a group of dwarves and an elf to let me be their travel companion. I have some experience negotiating with stupid." Rogzul grunts.

Torgan Steelkeg wrote:
"Kill the leader and get the rest to flee back into whatever cesspool they grew out of."

When Torgan makes the same comment Rogzul had made only moments before he flares his nostrils in frustration and shakes his head while the Torgan sends his bees to inspect the caves.

As they wait, he sees Jorgan watching the ram and questions him briefly. "Are rams usually so calm around strange creatures in their territory? It's been near us for a while." He trails off, silently asking his spirits for any input while watching the ram with more interest.

Altitude: 1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 4 = 15


I am the 'One True Owner of Aggrimosh', Kraygan!
Stats:
HP: 121/121 | AC 25 | T 16 | FF 22 | Fort +12 | Ref +14 | Will +7 (+3 spells/SLAs/poison) | CMD 36 (+2) | Initiative +5 (+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Per. +17 (+2 & Auto-check Stone/+2 Urban/+4 Mtn.) | Kn. (Dun.) +5 | Kn. (Nat.) +15
Resources:
Spells: Ranger: 1st- 3/3; 2nd - 3/3; 3rd - 1/1 | CLW: 100 charges

Torgan hears Rogzul ask about the nearby ram and opens a single eye to look at the crimson-eyed beast.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

"It's a bleeding ram, Squats." Torgan says as he returns to comfortability, draping the blanket over his face from the back of the howdah. "Do you think it's a giant in disguise?" he asks mockingly.

As he smiles at the thought of a giant in ram's clothing, the bee returns and buzzes a few times in his ear. The furriness tickles the rough skin on Torgan's ear and he has to refrain from swiping at the insect reactively.

"Bad news. No other entrances to the cave system, but I bet those dragons we see flying around live there." remarks Torgan. "They might feed the mammoths to them or they might scoop up creatures like that ram for breakfast. Bunch of bones in there."

Torgan sets out his finger and the winter bee lands. Its antennae twitch as Torgan clicks a few times with his tongue and the bee seems to buzz around happily before flying off into the woods.

"Alright. Worth a shot, I guess. Let's move towards the forest on the eastern edge, circling the encampment, and enter near the ice giant altar."

Torgan votes for coming from that wooded area near O.

Dark Archive

Tyrant's Grasp | | Age of Ashes | | Dead Suns | | ◆ | ◆◆ | ◆◆◆ | ◇ ◈ | ↺ | ★

So have some for the caves and some for the altar.

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