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On the very edge of the war-torn wasteland known as the
Desolation stands a settlement of criminals and scoundrels, the
desperate and the hopeless, of outlaws and deserters from the Long War of all races and creeds, all eking out an existence on the far fringes of civilization make this truly a place of new beginnings and horrific endings. This settlement is called only the Camp. The ancient military road, now little used, runs directly through the Camp. The locale consists mainly of stony, hard-packed soil covered by the snows that still fell, no matter that the Long War has ended and Achriman's Gate is closed. A few stunted trees and scrub brush are not enough to qualify as any actual woodland. The weather is called, but less so than on the northern battle-fields.An inordinate amount of garbage and stinking wastes surround the settlement, showing that its inhabitants do not care where they live. The long, dusty road from the nearest lonely portal - several weeks of riding away - has finally brought you to your destination, but now you are wondering why did you even bother to come to this dunghole. Before you sprawls a pathetic collection of hovels that appear to be composed of whatever materials happened to be lying around. Here, a building that had an impressive beginning as a stone structure peters out a few feet above the ground where its walls become muddaubed sticks with bunches of straw stuffed into the chinks.
There, wooden poles support walls of woven thatch and roof that is little more than an old hay tarp patched in places with tar. Beyond you can make out a ramshackle wooden structure, obviously the scavenged remains of several merchant wagons as evidenced by the axles and wheels still mounted at places on the outer walls and the hitching tongue protruding above the lintel and supporting a tattered awning. Everpresent snow has been turned to mush and mud. In the center of the settlement stands an old gallows hanging far askew. A dark form turns slowly in the icy breeze, suspended from this leafless tree. Few people seem to be out on the muddy streets of this village, though you
can see some activity to one side at an area of pole-supported awnings that appear to comprise some sort of market protected from the wind and snow. Silence is suddenly shattered by a great bellowing cry of rage. From the north road charges a massive figure. Those few people on the street quickly scatter at its approach. It is a hill giant covered in dust and blood. A great spiked club swings in its hand. Its face is a mass of recent wounds and horrible burns, perhaps caused by acid. One thing is evident, though; the look in its eyes as they focus on you is one of pure insanity.
Small Round punctuation marking....
The trio's bivouac site is a bastion of order and cleanliness on the edge of the squalor. The tents are of strange make, seemingly without ropes or frame. Massive warhorses sit in line next to the tents, Chestnut, Dapple Grey and Sabino White, chewing contently in their feed bags, all three barded and skirted in red and white; the same heraldry bourn by the three men sitting around the small fire playing some kind of strange card game. At the bellow they turn their heads, hands snapping to the long spears set in the ground next to them. At the sight of the giant the one in the center stands and sighs.
"Oh, Godstone. Shield's up, boys. I don't think that guy'll settle for being dealt in and given a drink."
His armored boot kicks the edge of the strange rounded shield he'd been sitting on like a bench, and in a motion that seems too smooth to be unpracticed, slips his arm into the grips as it pops into the air. The spear in his hand crackles as his grip tightens, lightning running up and down it's length.
"I was going to have to bluff that hand anyway..."
Rasina squints her eyes against the harsh glare of the afternoon sun and pulls her cloak tightly around her body, a futile gesture to shield herself from the sights and smells of the hellhole she has found herself. She pauses and reflects for a moment. Her celestial blood has called her to this place, to do...something. Now that she is here, she is unsure what the next step of her journey is.
Well, I am sure the gods will reveal their intentions to me...hopefully sooner than lat...By the Gods, what is that?
She notices the maddened hill giant enter the Camp, and her hands reflexively grip their weapons. Hill Giants were violent and brutish thugs, but this one was...afflicted by something. She sees a trio of armored men, knights by the looks of them, also responding to the threat, and she moves over towards them.
"Ho, good knights, Do you fellows need some assistance?"
The foul frigid air of the Desolation clings to Mikka like a mire, making her yearn for a cleansing rainor warm breeze. As she makes her way through the slush, lost in thought she looks for her traveling companion Rasina, her attertion drawn past her friend, past the similarly uniformed soldiers, to the charging form of an insane looking giant, murder in his eyes.
Instinct tells her that death approaches, the wind picking up around her as she bigins to call the power of the elements to bear.
"Rasina, that oaf doesn't like as if he plans to stop!"
"Oh, he'll stop." The man in the center of the the three says without taking his eyes off the coming threat. "Assistance is always welcome. Just try to stay behind us."
J'Larky had been walking forever it seemed. He had been called to this place, something in his prayers led him to this desolate area, but he was having trouble wondering why. There was nothing out here, what possible use could his god have for this place.
Then he smelled the camp...before the smoke of the fires came into view, he smelled the camp. As he approached his stomach which had been vexing him for the past few days required his attention. Just outside the city proper he stopped to take care the call of nature behind some scrubs. Just as he was finishing re-strapping his armor, he heard a loud noise coming down the trail towards the camp. Peaking out from the shrubs he saw a giant hustling down the trail. Covered in blood and swinging a giant spiked club the Giant bellowed in rage seemingly intent upon wreaking havoc in the settlement.
This will not do, J'Larky thought to himself, and followed hot on the giant's heels. Maybe this is why I was called here
The large man stands, moving in practiced sync with the other two soldiers. He lifts both a tower shield and a spear sized more for an Ogre than for the man currently wielding it. As he easily brings the spear to bear there is an orange glow of flame and the chill of the wind is briefly cut by a warmth emanating from the blade of the spear. A smile appears on his face as he stares at the Giant.
"Good, I was beginning to fear this place held as little excitement for us as a guard post on the Time Frozen Flats."
The last of the trio slams his shield into place in the position on the right. Not as thick as the first, nor as brawny as the second, he still settles in with a wiry power belying his whip-like frame.
His spear twirls in his grip with a bit of a flourish, then steadies, waiting for their enemy. The spearhead flashes white, as if with a sudden heat, but unexpectedly, mist curls off the suddenly frozen blade. The soldier cracks a lazy smile as the giant charges closer, opening thin lips to speak to the other two in a dry voice that barely acknowledges the oncoming threat.
"Let's see how much excitement our new friend there is looking for, hm?"
Suddenly, as if responding to a signal only they hear, the phalanx of three plants itself, moving as one man, and their weapons flare in a cavalcade of light and energy.
Initiative
"Come and get it, you big ugly bastard."
"Wait for it boys. Allich, you call the mark"
Rasina draws her Rapier and dagger, while murmering a protective enchantment on herself, useful against evildoers.
From behind them, Rasina and the 3 warriors feel the temarature drop, the already chill air allowing puffs of mist to come from their mouths as Mikka draws all the ambient heat from the air to a focal point, her hands swirling as she whispers in an ancient language.
Motes of swirling fire begin to coalesce at a spot beteewn the charging giant and the phalanx, quickly resolving into a roiling ball of pure fire that rolls towards the lumbering humanoid, melting snow and ice with its passage and at the last moment, bouncing up to strike the giant in the face.
In the instant before the giant swings, Allich barks out a ringing "Ha!", and the phalanx steps forward in unison, weapons flashing out, but their shields remain high and at the ready.
Attack
Damage
"Herac, down!"
Orphax slides left as he thrusts, stepping into the line of the giant's incoming swing, taking the heavy blow on his flank. He grunts only barely, absorbing the blow from the giant's club like a prizefighter sucking up a punch. He rolls with it, his upper body swaying and his knees bracing, shunting off the battering-ram sized weapon with practiced ease.
If there is room to get off a fireball before the giant closes with the rest of the party, J'Larky will do so. If not he casts Shield of Faith, and continues to close...keeping at least 15-20 feet away from the giant.
At Orphax's shout Herac steps to the side kneeling down and striking out hard with his spear as he raises his shield to cover himself and Orphax.
Mikka observes the attacks noting the giab's ability to withstand punishment.
Heal
Rasina sees the maddened giant strike at the phalanx of fighters, and sees her chance. Moving in a circuitous route to avoid the long reach of the giant’s deadly club, she waits for the perfect opportunity to strike at the giant’s flank…
Without looking over, Allich leans slightly to the right, giving Orphax room to roll with the giant's blow. Abandoning the defensive posture, his spear flickers out once, then again, aiming for the arteries in the legs.
Attack 1:
Damage: +1d6 ice
Attack 2:
Damage: +1d6 ice
Watching the slender girl run out from behind the safety of their shields, Orphax's jaw clenches. "Dammit..."
Realizing the Giant's swings would almost certainly land a blow were it to focus on the girl, Herac bellows a challenge as he unleashes his full fury with a series of powerful strikes.
[/ooc]
Mikka makes a swift motion with her hand, commanding the ball of flame to jump up between the giant's legs.
Her hair flares from the wash of warm air that buffets her as she calls upon a divine firestorm that envelops the lumbering creature, a swirling torrent of flame that leave steam in the air.
Flamestrike
"Down" Orphax once again puts himself in harms way for his companions taking the second blow in much the same way as the first. As the blow lands a golden glow seems to come from beneath his armor, somehow lighting it up from beneath as if the armor beneath the lacquer were made of something that light could penetrate.
J'Larky moving closer calls upon the light of Sarenrae, and sends three beams of light at the marauding beast.
Ranged Touch - Searing Light (1d20+5=6)
And not taking the time to correctly fasten his drawer they fall about his knees, causing the beams to shoot harmlessly into the air.
Rolling around his companion, Orphax manages to put himself in the way of two more of the giant's swings. He finally grits his teeth and starts to show his discomfort at the battering he's received. The glow from beneath his armor continues.
"Caster, do you heal?" he shouts over his shoulder while lashing out at the giant in retaliation.
J'Larky continuing to hustle, attempts to get close enough to the combatants to selectively channel.
Seeing the approaching armored man extend his hand and feeling the presence of divine energy she notes some of the battered warrior's wounds begin to repair themselves.
Satisfied that another has taken on the healing, she focuses on ending the fight. Her hand makes a quick motion as she directs the rolling ball of flame across the giant's back.
She speaks strange words calling out to the earth itself to rise up and protect the warriors, the stony ground responding to her will.
Rasina decides not to press her luck any further and retreats from the field, making her way back around to the wall Mikka raised.