Sohar, none stay and seem content to retreat, especially with the fall of one of their masters. Your run speed is greater than the unmounted foes, and you could choose to engage them if you wish.
Ghelryn and his party charge through the ally near Pindleton, they could reach the giant in a few rounds (assuming the giant is immobile).
Pindleton strikes the giant directly and retreats to the clouds of smoke nearby.
The giant watches Pindleton soar into the darkness, and takes a wild guess as to his trajectory...
...but the halfling's cunning use of the environment saves him a ghastly touch as the rock obliterates the fire-weakened structure with a deafening crash. The giant continues to advance towards that area.
Pindleton, feeling more confident due to not being smashed by a flying boulder, flies as fast as he can to land (far from gracefully) next to Jysson.
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As her inn continues to burn, the last of Urgala Meltimer's blood seaps into the earth. Crops will grow again on this land, a new inn will be built, and life will continue, but without Urgala. Some portion of the town was saved and the rest can be rebuilt, and that is all Urgala wanted. As her spirit lifts from her body towards it's final rest, she can't help but give one last kick at the giant, which ineffectively passes right through her. Then she lets go of the anger and the giants and her home for all these years to enter her new home among on some far off plane.
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Sohar(Lion) follows behind the retreating invaders, only harassing them if they slow down.
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Ghelryn continues towards the giant.
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Seth slinkers behind Glori, his eyes glowing with dark skull patterns. Without a warning the itchy, searing fey beams suddenly flash past, mapping out a bizarre geometry...
...both scour vindictively into the giant's flesh, as if the hidden spirits had some ancient grudge against fire.
Darathra motions her party south towards the pond "Look, that lion is chasing them off our flank! Make haste to the waters, brothers...I will stand with Foehammer!" the farmers jump what's left of the trampled fences quickly heading towards that area.
Biting into a foxtail stem in her mouth, she leaps forward to cover Ghelryn's party and Gloriana moving into melee...
Pindleton yells, "Watch out, she might be a spellcaster!"
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In a dazzling display of his hatred for giants, with Betsy whirling in his grip, Ghelryn jumps into the fray. With one mighty swing, he severs the tendons behind the giant's knees. When it hits the ground, he uses Betsy to split open its skull. As the light fades from her eyes, he coldly chants....
"Death is the silence
We bring to all giants."
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The fire giant's blade cuts through the atmosphere like a diving dragon, tracing a huge arc in an attempted intercept of Triboar's leader...
...and Darathra is plowed into the mud, her breastplate a mangled scrap, twitching slightly.
The giant collapses from Foehammer's life-long training, the Sun glistening from his bloodied blade in destiny.
Everyone advances to level 6
Booty Time
Female Giant:
-Adamantine Rod. It is basically a cylindrical piece of adamantine roughly 4 feet in length, with a giant hand sized grip carved or magically shaped on one end, and 2 tendril like antennae on the other. Detect magic etc for more on that one. (I might need to roll for Seth)
Male Giant:
-Tent sized sack, filled with...
...30 ft of hemp rope tied to a bucket, 4 dead trout, a giant-sized drinking horn, and a bag of dried mushrooms.
-A very expensive looking ruby pendant of stylized fire.
Orogs:
gp in mixed coin.
This is all in addition to their normal equipment, if interested.
As the giant comes crashing to the ground, Gloriana can't help but watch in wonder at Sohar's deadly attacks. Once the dust settles, she looks around for her companions...and notices Jysson is missing.
Finding the unconscious wood elf, she checks his breathing and hollers for help. She coaxes some drops of water down his throat and begins tearing strips of cloth to bandage his wounds as best she can.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ;>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Narth breathes his last and a single tear leaks from the corner of one eye and runs down his bruised and bloodied cheek. His spirit rises from his body, looking peaceful in the midst of all the chaos. Smiling upon seeing a familiar face, spirit Narth drifts toward Urgala as she rises above him.
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As the adrenaline fades, you remember you started the day with a hell of a hangover. Somehow the cheap booze and your nerves have gotten blended and shot to hell. All around you is nothing but shock and gore, its obvious the flames are beyond check and won't die until the last ash.
Darathra is elated but angry. "...where the hell is the militia?" she nearly cries. Ghelryn is cheered but its obvious this was his last fight, the orog has torn the old muscles apart more than they can likely heal. And Darz steps out of the shadows, ostensibly in congratulations, but really just to verify the b+&&@es are done.
Others weren't so lucky. Triboar was a hub of trade but it was a chaotic machine. Without any regulation or much foresight the clustered caravan lines were easily broken apart by the enemy's advance, but for the moment it isn't clear that humanity's ruin was the giant's goal.
What is clear is that you all are heroes. When others fled, even natives of Triboar fled, you outsiders stepped up and pushed back the tide of what has become a much too common story. What you have done has changed the paradigm; yes-giants are attacking all over the Sword Coast, but here, just this once, hope has emerged. The great corpses are a beacon for all and transcend rumor.
You have a great deal of questions, but others are looking to you for answers.
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You spend a few days recovering, and Darathra makes sure you have all the accomodations you require. People seem to come from all around to talk to you, and before you are even back on your feet you seem to have some choices to consider:
1. Darathra reveals herself as a Harper and is concerned that the fire giants made it this far into Dessarin Valley without her spy networks getting triggered. She trusts and tasks you all to travel along Evermoor Way, to visit Danivarr's House in Everlund and inform her people of the gravity of the situation. For identification, she gives each of you a special platinum badge to be delivered to one "Dral Thelev"...
2. Darz approaches with quite the tale. It seems he knows the location of a certain wanted brigand known as the "Weevil", and in some weird styled thanks for your help defending his home he informs you about a 5,000 gold reward for his capture in Mirabar. Look for a dwarf cleaning stables in Xantharl's Keep.
3. Ghelryn is also humble enough to recognize your valor and importance in the battle. He comes to you with a sealed royal letter in hand, a letter of recommendation, to present to King Morinn and Queen Tithmel of Citadel Felbarr (a dwarven stronghold). He promises they will present to you a great reward.
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Jysson wakes up to see Gloriana and Pindleton hovering over him, their faces full of concern and worry. His vision is blurry and his head hurts, but he's uncertain if it's from the hangover or from the giant rock.
The rock! The Giants!
He bolts upright, only to have Gloriana push him back down. Pindleton's hand rests on his shoulder; he too, keeping Jysson pinned. Jysson's wounds are too severe for him to be rushing about. They wrap his head in bandages, and help him - slowly - to his feet. They help him walk, Gloriana and Pindleton each have an arm around his shoulder. Gloriana walks; Pindleton flies.
As he looks around, he sees the carnage wrought. But more importantly - to him at least - are the two bodies of those hell-brought giants.
We won.
He smiles.
We really won.
His smile broadens.
WE WON! He yells, one fist rising I'm the air. F$~@ YEAH WE WON! Holy hell, how did we do that?!
He looks over to Pindleton and Gloriana, I probably wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you two. I tell ya, everything I thought I knew about humans and halflings was wrong; you two are as worthy as any elf I've ever known.
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Later that day, after he learned about the ultimate sacrifice made by the people of the town, Jysson volunteered for burial duty. He spent the evening hours digging graves in the ground so the dead may be honored.
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There he sat, as the sun set, right by her grave. Both knees on the ground, he sat on his heels. He was covered in dirt and grime and dried blood - some his own, some not. His head still had a blood soaked bandage wrapped around it, despite the wounds having closed hours earlier from healing magic.
There he sat, as the sun set, a half empty bottle of wine clutched in one hand. His lifted his arm, and the bottle was one swallow emptier. His body ached from the exertion, from the battle, from his wounds. Another swallow of wine emptied from the bottle.
There he sat, as the sun set, tears falling to the ground. She was the only one. The only one who's hated burned in her eyes the way it burned in his. The only one who stood on the ground beside him against the giants. The only one who stood to them face to face and didn't make it. The only one.
There he sat, the sun long set. The bottle long empty. The tears still flowing.
There he sat.
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In the aftermath, Sohar offers what healing arts he has to the people of Triboar.
He tries to take the influx of attention stoically, but his attempts often appear cool or standoffish. Many of these people are more outwardly emotional than he is used to. However, he does use the opportunity to ask probing questions about the grove, Gwaeron's Slumber.
Pindleton isn't particularly helpful with the wounded, but does what he can. He tries not to look too eager and distracted, but when the immediate crisis of wounded and fires seems as under control as they can be, Pindleton hurries to find an expensive pearl for sale and then over to the mysterious rod to cast identify on it.
Also, if he overhears Sohar, his curiosity is piqued. "A strange grove you say? Mmm... interesting."
Yes it does. Let's go to the Grove.
Sohar, did you make any attempt to hide your shapeshifting from the townsfolk? Just curious. If not, they recognize you as the magestic lion who routed the foes and are more than happy to talk to you. Over a period of time you collect some information about the forest:
-No one, even the most seasoned rangers in the Triboar Arms tavern (T16) have ever felt anything suspicious like you did. A half-elf there seems interested in your inquiries however, and taking you seriously she introduces herself as Zindra Winterbow. Although she is quite drunk, she isn't sloppy drunk, and she seems to enjoy guessing what might cause you to have that feeling:
Guess 1: The owner of the Six Windows rooming house (T14) has something to do with it. Zindra describes the house as being right on the edge of the forest, and the owner (an Illuskan named Tolmara) as being a madwoman.
Guess 2: Kolstagg, the rich mage and owner of the Boar's Rest mansion (T15) has something to with it. Zindra swears the new statues he erected a week ago are actual gargoyles.
Guess 3: Darz Helgar, the campground (T2) caretaker (Jysson's NPC during the battle) has something to do with it. Zindra thinks he is within the forest more than other people, and that he has a secret.
-Some claim to have seen Gwaeron (god of tracking) walking among the trees, appearing as a tall, muscular man whose long, white hard and beard whip and billow as if in an endless breeze...even without wind.
-The dominant belief by townsfolk is that if you worshop Gwaeron or Mielikki and sleep within the forest, you will recieve prophetic dreams. Worshippers have sometimes dissappeared without a trace, which leads some to believe that Gwaeron spirits away worthy supplicants to his divine domain.
-Additionally, everyone knows the strict Triboar law prohibiting gathering wood or hunting creatures from the forest.
-The trees within seem trapped in a perpetual autumnal state, with leaves in dazzling shades of yellow, orange, and red. They express their happiness for the recent fire attack coming from the northeast, instead of the northwest.
Sohar, the deeper you go into the forest the more you realize something is not right. That draw of nature you felt before was just an illusion, the work of some malevolent force lurking about. It would probably take a few more nights to pinpoint the exact source.
Pindleton, by the time you get back to the man-sized rod with the pearl in hand, someone has already fashioned a sort of carrying harness for it built of wooden framework and has it loaded on a pushcart wagon without wheels. There is no one around, however, and you are able to cast the spell (or ritual form if you prefer).
Your surroundings gain the appearance of being coated with a sticky orange dew. It takes a moment for your mind to accept that it isn't physical, but rather some mental effect of the magics you are channelling. The dew drips vertically, slowly, into primordial symbols you recognize. They start spelling out information regarding the rod, but something is a bit different than usual. There is an especially strong fire aspect, or dialect, to the text.
"Here layeth the Rod of the Vonindod..." The text explains its usage, that after attenuation it casts locate object with 10 charges per day, and that it regenerates 1d6+4 charges at dawn. If the target of locate object is "adamantine" however, the spell is extremely boosted in range and precision.
You expect the spell to expire, but instead, one last word materializes: Zalto, almost as if a signature.
From behind, someone startles you "You there! Shoo!"
Also Pindleton, since you speak giant you know that "Vonindod" translates as "titan of death", fyi. Turning, you see a man dressed in lavish robes carrying a pair of wagon wheels. If you had to guess, you might place him as Damaran.
Gloriana spends her time helping the good folk of Triboar rebuild. She puts out fires, helps haul wood to rebuild the burned buildings and homes. Stands guard against monster attacks, things that may have been drawn to the town by the fire and the smell of blood.
She gets to know the names of the townsfolk and drops in on them unexpectedly to check on them; to make sure they have food and fresh water. She does all she can to help.
Based on the info that Sohar shared, Jysson will ask Darz if he knows anything about the forest. Some say you're there more than anyone else, and you'd know something about it. A friend of mine has a strange feeling about that part of the woods.
After a moment's thought, Jysson also says, Oh, and thanks for helping out with those giants.
"'Strange feeling'?" he chuckles and pulls a bottle of grain alcohol from a false wall board, pouring 2 shots. His little cottage is humble but tidy, and the carpentry is somehow derelict without being ramshackle. He knocks one back, handing the other to you "You spying on me, Jay?" he seems to say in jest. "Look, I'm not a religious man, but everyone needs a sanctuary. Those timbers are the reason I came to Triboar." he pours 2 more before stashing the bottle back. "I'll tell you one thing though, when people vanish from in there it ain't 'the gods' that's taking them. Y'know that gets to a me a little, people round here don't want to deal with their problems and just ignore it. But I guess people go missing from forests all over." he shrugs.
Gloriana, during the rebuild you earn the notice of an old man by the name of Loomshanks. He seems to follow you around, watching you work and helping when he can. He tries to make idle chatter, almost testing you like "Good deeds never go unseen, do they?". He mentions he was staying at the same dive inn when the attack happened, and is working to pay off a debt to the Talking Troll's owner, whom he describes as an out of work actor.
Where I com from, it ain't the gods neither. It's usually giants and ogres. Jysson responds.
He nods "Couldn't agree more, but it would have to be a sneaky one...they reach they other side without a trace. No blood. No tracks.
That's a maestro of slaying."
Jysson downs the shot, saying, Well, my friend is mighty curious. And I'm going to help him out, so I'm chasing down all the rumors he hears. Thanks for the drink, and the advice.
Next up is some rich f!##er. Owns some gargoyles or something. Or that woman who's a little touched. She seems like a better person to talk to. Not about this, just in general. I think I'll see her first.
Darz sends you off in friendly way, perhaps admiring your resilience despite your intelligence.
Based on what you've heard Tolmara is the crazy old woman who runs Six Windows, a chilly, creaking, decrepit rooming house right on the edge of Gwaeron's Slumber. They say her husband left town with another woman years ago. The descriptions don't really do it justice: a cobweb in every board crack, discarded insect exoskeletons jumbled up in corners...and the smell of 50 year old mold. The once brightly pink died drapes and matching upholstry has faded, or is perhaps just covered in an impenetrable layer of dust.
You are met with solitude and silence upon entering. There is no one in sight.
Jysson , for a split second you are sure that one of the dark knots in the wood is actually hollow, and that there was some figure observing you from behind.
You hear a slow shuffling of feet and finally a woman emerges who seems aged more by stress and worry than time. "Yes...a room, mm? The light of the moon shant entwine your slumbers, no. Shant." her hands shake vigorously, almost to the point of ridiculousness, as she offers a little guest registry book for you to sign. "Old Tolmara and her Six Windows! Ha!"
She cocks her head to one side and her neck pops loudly "Strange?" shambling over to the window, she turns her back on you all to gaze outside "I've never seen him...like they say he comes for believers...but I've felt his presence before. Bigger than a bear, but soft like a cat...he thinks I don't feel it, but I do..."
Why don't we just walk through the Grove and find out?
Also Pindleton, since you speak giant you know that "Vonindod" translates as "titan of death", fyi. Turning, you see a man dressed in lavish robes carrying a pair of wagon wheels. If you had to guess, you might place him as Damaran.
Pindleton summons up his academic haughtiness - trying to walk that line of not going so far as rude arrogance, but deep into "Oh, you did NOT already know that. Oh dear." elitism, and hopes the man hasn't had time to learn about the rod yet.
"My pardon, good sir. I did not mean to be in anyone's way, I'm merely trying to do my part in insuring the town is safe with such powerful magics left strewn about. If I may ask, do you already have plans for the Rod of the Vonindod?"
He starts talking before you finish talking "Away with you, beggar...oh, a kenderfolk. I thought you were one of those street children I hate so much. Now, it seems we have a problem because yes I do have plans for this item, but no I won't share them with you..."
As you start to wonder if this guy is being serious or not, you recall that there is a great private library here in Triboar managed by one Hyuth Kolstaag. This must be him, or at least one of his associates.
"...what shall we do about this impasse? I propose a battle of wits."
Jysson, being accustomed to not really understanding what others mean when they say wierd things - and they seem to say wierd things a lot - agrees.
Uh.. sure. Let's asks the trees. That seems right.
You guys can roll some wisdom insight checks within the forest to 'commune with nature'. I suppose you could roll some active perception checks as well. Or spend the night or something.
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Giving Tolmara a last look to see if she has anything else to say, Sohar leaves the creepy boarding house. Wandering through the trees, he leads the way into the woods. When he finds a spot that is to his liking, he walks in a circle several times, touching various trees as he does. When he is done, he asks in Druidic, "What is happening here? What malevolence troubles you?"
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The leaves rustle as if a strong wind has passed over them, but the rattling intensifies and is subtly altered into a language audible to you "...they have taken our holly and opened the demon's gate...they refuse to assemble the simian guardian..."
Perhaps the laws of Triboar which prevent building things within the forest have backfired.
Holly? Huh. Sounds like an Oni. Nasty little buggers. What'd they say was the law in Triboar? Something 'bout no cutting down trees. Wonder if they've moved over here instead of in town.