The sabretooth promptly regurgitates a giant furball in Hudak's face.
The sabretooth staggers back, retching.
She uses another cure on Alwyn.
Casting defensively, if necessary.
"Ghngh...."
"Nice!"
Hudak'll keep chopping on the bastard, now that he's not set up for failure.
damage
damage
2h. power attack.
Crit please.
Hudak charges after the sabretooth. And so it is that Hudak, slayer of sick cats, puts an end to it.
"That was a close one. Anything else out there?"
"Did i mention that my little shelter here doesnt actually have any walls? I probably should have mentioned that. "
"Was that thing talking? Or was I just waking up seeing and hearing weird stuff?"
"The latter. Unless it was only talking to you. I didn't hear it say anything." Alwyn totters unsteadily to his feet. "Gorum's grace... The sabretooth is a fierce animal. Are anyone hurt, beyond me and Hudak?"
"that was bad but could have been much worse."
Sefayll exhales a breath she didn't realize she was holding as she sits down heavily. "That was close, Gorumite. I was afraid my small talent in such things was not sufficient to the task."
Camlo puts the crossbow down, rolls over and goes back to sleep.
lol
Sefayll exhales a breath she didn't realize she was holding as she sits down heavily. "That was close, Gorumite. I was afraid my small talent in such things was not sufficient to the task."
"It was something, something that quite possibly saved my life. I am grateful for that. And I repay my debts, Hellknight." Alwyn sits down again next to the fire. "Return to your sleeping bags. I'll continue my watch."
"Yeah; that sick stomach Illes probably saved all of us. Thanks!!!"
"Speaking of which, you really should wash that off. I can conjure up water if you wish."
"sure. What the hell..."
Hudak washes down in Sefayll's conjured water. With Alwyn recovered through the application of Gorum's grace, there is the matter of what to do with the dead sabretooth. With the application of ropes, it is hauled a short distance out of the camp, before the night watch commences again.
The rest of the night is uneventful - a huge dead cat is normally offputting to most potential predators - and the following dawn the addventurers get ready to move on.
"Can anybody skin that thing?"
Sefayll looks at the cat, then at Hudak, eyebrow raised. "Are you serious? Won't that take time?"
"I'm pretty good with knives, but I don't think I'd get that off intact to sell....."
"Bummer."
"I've always wanted a sabretooth pelt. But this is not the time, I'm afraid."
"We can always buy some pelts with all the gold we'll take off the giants, anyway."
Leaving the carcass of the sabretooth behind, the heroes of Sandpoint and Turtleback Ferry head deeper into the mountains. They follow the river as it flows through the valley. The crags and forest on either side glower down in shadow, and ahead the peaks are painted pink and gold by the rising sun. Thin silvery lines plunge from the cliffs as mountain streams form waterfalls as they drop to join the main course.
The centre of the valley is marshy and the river meanders a litle, so the adventurers walk on the slightly higher ground to one side. The grass is lush and tall enough to hinder the pace slightly, rippling like a green sea. In the distance, a small herd of giant elk pust their way through, leaving trails like ships' wakes. They turn their antlered heads in the party's direction, but don't approach.
Also dotted along the valley are monuments created by the giants. Single slabs of stone project from the ground, or small henges of massive menhirs sit in a circle. Also, there are a few enclosures made of well-fitted drystone walls, like sheep pens, alhough these are deserted. None of these are directly in the path of the group as they head north, but nonetheless serve as reminders that giants live here.
"There we are." Illes nods in the direction of several cave mouths dotting the cliffs above the treeline. "I'd bet we've got a few giant homesteaders up there. If they haven't spotted us they probably will by the time we cross the valley." The bard considers, "Then again their sheep pens are all empty. Could be they've joined the revolution."
"Definitly giant country. I wouldn't expect it to be this quiet"
"We should check it out.
Do we want to just go up there en masse or do the stealth thing? If the sheep pens are empty the place is prolly devoid of giants."
"Master Agnarrson, I would like to try to mentally ensnare another creature like the sabretooth. You have better eyes for the sign than I do - can you watch out for any likely candidates?"
"Should we investigate the caves? We might learn something about our quarry and their change of behavior."
"Let's go check the caves out."
I'm pretty sure it's what we're doing. Alwyn's moving or something....
"That sounds like a good plan. I don't fancy the idea they may be sneaking up behind us either.
The adventurers turn to head up towards the caves they spotted. The route takes them across the broad flat base of the valley and up into the conifer forest on its steeper sides. The going gets increasingly perpendicular but they soon pick up a trail as they head into the trees. It turns into a switchback pathway running alongside a stream as it heads up the side of the valley, and shows evidence of giant handywork where boulders support the sides or flat slabs form part of the surface underfoot.
The track emerges above the trees as the valley sides turn into cliffs. The track is now a stairway, hewn from the living rock. On either side a pair of massive stone idols, splotched with lichen, glower down at the interlopers, eyes sunk in shadow in the noonday sun. The steps zig-zag up the cliffs towards the caves, now out of sight. But on the first landing, looking down at the adventurers, stands a party of four stone giants. They carry stone clubs and two cave bears snuffle about their ankles like hunting dogs. Their leader, who wears the pelt of a sabretooth, its fangs hanging down either side of his face, yells out.
"Greetings and salutations!" Alwyn steps to the front of the party and replies in Giant to the pelt-clad leader. "We are traveling to the Storval Plateau. As we did not know whose lands we were traveling through, once we spotted your dwellings it seemed prudent to approach and pay our respects. We certainly meant no harm or mischief."
"Ask him how much he wants for that cool sabretooth pelt...."
The stone giant scrutinises Alwyn for a few moments, though his stance relaxes slightly. He rumbles a reply.
After a brief recap for his comrades, Alwyn answers the giant chief. "These are indeed troubled times. We are searching for information about Mokmurian and his stronghold at Jorgenfist. Would you be willing to tell us anything about him, or about the fortress?"
The giants all become instantly tense at the metnion of Mokmurian and Jorgenfist.
"We're in luck," Alwyn mutters to Illes. "They don't like the damned giant witchdoctor any more than we do."
"We do know a little bit about him - he is apparently a powerful shaman who can command the very stones around him, but besides that, all we know is that he wishes to drive the men of the lowlands into the sea. Now, I know that we humans and you giants have often had a troubled relationship and that some of you are skeptical of the smaller folk. I understand that. However, no grudge can justify the slaughter Mokmurian's plans will lead to. We hope to find a way to stop him from realising his mad plan. Maybe we can convince enough of his allies to leave his cause, or maybe we can lure him away from his guards and then defeat him. Anything you could tell us about him or his allies would be helpful in this respect."
"Additionally, we know next to nothing about the Valley of the Black Tower or of the fortress of Jorgenfist itself. Again, any knowledge you could impart would be greatly appreciated."
"Of course, we will barter for information. If you don't want your gold, I can heal your sick and lame. Or Illes here can write you a rousing epic that will celebrate your deeds and wisdom for many generations."
The other giants look questioningly at their leader. He scrutinises Alwyn and the rest of the party impassively for a moment, then nods and begins walking down the stairway with his small troop towards the party. Before reaching them, he leans his club against the cliff and the, empty-handed, stoops down on one knee so his face ir more or less level with Alwyn's.
In accented Common he says, "I am Valardis, war-chief of the Gourkar tribe. I welcome you to our lands and bid you share our fire." He looks at Alwyn expectantly.
Alwyn bows his head in ritual submission."It would be an honor to share the camp of the Gourkar tribe, Chief Valardis. We will be delighted to share what we have around the fire, be it stories or goods. Please lead the way and we will follow."
Hudak untrained diplomacy: (dice)1d20(meh; not going to do it)
just kidding. I don't want to fart things up.
Illes nudges Alwyn and whispers, "Introduce us."
Sefayll takes off her helm and places it under her arm. She indicates each of the party members as she describes them.
"War-chief Valardis. You have met our shaman Alwyn, chosen of Gorum. This is our mighty warrior Hudak. The very talented enterainer Illes stands here and that is the stealthy scout Camlo. I am known as Sefayll. It is a great honor for us to be invited to share your fire."