Barak rifles through the broken equipment at his feet searching for tracks, clues about the attack or anything salvageable.
"Finding shelter seems like a good plan to me the weather changes on a knife edge out here."
"Do you want to stop for a bite to eat here? seem like there is plenty of firewood to cook my old nag. after an hours rest we can continue on to the fort."
Aye, it might serve as a good base of operations... after we kick out whatever currently resides therein, or course... and for as long as we can hold on to it ourselves...
Khun-duhn chuckles at Durin's optimistic outlook. "It would be nice to have our own base of operations. Someplace where we didn't have to watch our backs all the time like back at that Camp."
"Let's have a quick meal like Barak suggested and then find that fortification."
I doubt you will be at ease out here... ever... fort or no fort. Nor should you be. That being said, I have no objections to heading there...
Durin passes on the horse meat...
Day 3-
After a break for lunch and another 4 hours of marching, the group had retraced their steps and almost reached their rope trick campsite; marching alongside the Chaos Rift. The Boiling Lands were oppressive and the mist was thick as it passed the midday mark. Kirilarien had already removed fatigue Zanzu and Lord Vincent's weary bodies but the latter was struggling again already, stumbling through the mist and doing his best to keep up...
Kiri applies some quick healing with her wand to wash away the worst of Vincent's weariness but its clear that both he and Zanzu need a short break.
7 healing to Vincent
I can't see much on the group in this soup I'm afraid. I'm dying to see the walls of the Tsar as well. If we can get a bit closer I can try and see if I can locate this place from the air but don't want to get too far away in case you need me.
In the next hour, the mists and gases emanating from the Boiling Lands seemed to reach their thickest as the day passed into the afternoon. Visibility was so poor that the group could barely see further than ten feet in front of themselves and trudging through the bog and marsh was a truly miserable affair.
Marching at the front of the group, Durin and Barak were as surprised as the hulking beast they came across, a creature that had apparently been following the party's trail from earlier in the day, judging from its hunched posture and focus on the ground as the group retraced their steps. It was a giant, hulking creature with a stooped frame and long sinewy arms ending in clawed hands. Six small yellow eyes dotted its forehead and it had a wide, tooth-filled maw. Its body bore slick, gray, hairless skin and its face was somewhat devoid of features other than the aforementioned eyes and maw. Standing well over nine feet tall and likely weighing at least a few thousand pounds, the hulking figure was clearly shocked to find the two Dwarves before it.
Already close enough to reach out and attack the two Dwarves, the massive figure hesitated, raising a huge claw threateningly but watching the two Dwarves closely, seeing what they would do and six eyes following the weapons they held, especially Durin's hammer. Somehere behind the front of the group, Khun-Duhn nevertheless felt his shoulders tense as he felt the presence of a potentially hostile individual close by...
Barak is surprised when he and Durin nearly bump into the creature. a tense millisecond passes as Barak surveys the situation. unable to ascertain the creatures motivations or if it is alone, Barak steps back and tries to converse with the creature in Giant. whilst maintaining a ready grip on his crossbow.
Barak makes a guess that figure is not alone.
Barak was reasonably sure that the figure was alone but couldn't be sure in the thick mist.
Your pretty sure that this giant is only a little more intelligent than an animal.
The figure paused and spoke in slow, thick Giant that the rest of the group could hear as they approached. The giant held out a meaty hand to the crossbow wielding Dwarf. The thick inhale of the Giant's nostrils and flicker of recognition in its eyes made it clear it was aware that others were approaching. It smelled foul, but due to the thick miasma of gas and mist in the boggy land this was barely discernible until one was close to it.
Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the hulking figure, Durin's grip tightened upon the haft of his hammer. Before he could raise it to strike, he was caught by surprise again when Barak attempted to converse with it in giant... and it answered instead of attacking the two of them.
Durin noticed Barak step back as he spoke to the beast, leaving Durin alone within reach of the creature's immense claws. Durin inwardly grimaced, Thanks a lot buddy...
Durin stood his ground, feet firmly planted, not wanting to show weakness to the creature and thereby possibly enticing it into attacking.
Seeing the thing hold out a hand, Durin questioned Barak out of the side of his mouth in a calm tone, What does it want? As was his personality, Durin offered his own joking answer to the tense situation, To shake your hand?
The giant looked suspiciously at Arachiel's words and hand motions, but frankly seemed more interested in the horse he rode in on, licking its lips hungrily.
You detect no evil.
"Food. it wants food" Barak smiles
Barak reaches into his pocket and removes a piece of bread. showing it to the giant.
"Bring whats left of the horse" Barak says under his breath whist still smiling.
The beast seemed to nod slowly in approval at the offerings held up to it, taking both the bread and horse meat and setting them at his feet. He pointed at Arachiel's horse, seeming unfazed by the rest of the group arriving.
Barak maintains his smile and through gritted teeth says in a low tone to the group "This is probably not going to work. be ready."
The Giant's grey skin seemed to take on a slightly more colourful complexion as it reared up to its full height of ten feet, fists beginning to clench. When it spoke, its muscles clenched, tightened and poised.
Barak smiles and nods whist he replies suddenly he shouts and points to the sky directly behind the creature attempting to look terrified.
.......
.......
"NOW!!!"
Barak's takes a gamble that the giant is as stupid as it looks an attempts to distract the creature long enough to put the thing down.
Barak's attempt at terror ended up looking more like an awkward grimace. The Giant growled in annoyance at Barak's attempt to distract it, and decided to waste no more time bargaining with the food before it. With a growl and a bestial roar, the huge grey Humanoid moved to attack, but not before Barak's bolts were already whistling through the air and the party were also reacting...
Round 1-
Ordered Initiative-
(Favoured Terrain Desert +2)
Barak- 23
Kirilarien- 22
Zanzu- 21
Marcus- 15
Arachiel- 11
Khun-Duhn- 11
Grey Humanoid- 10
Lord Vincent- 5
Durin- 5
Active Effects-
Map-
Notes-
Action-
Swings his crossbow into action shooting three times into the bulk of the giant. Two shots find their mark in its hide but again the mechanism misfires on the third shot sending only harmless splinters at the foe.
Round 1
Flying above Marcus, Kiri draws a wand and tries to curse the giant with ill-luck.
Round 1
Marcus dismounts, using his conjured mount for cover, and casts a spell on the area below the giant, adding to the boggy ground with a layer of slick grease.
Round 1
Move action for Inspire Courage
Defensive Casting:
vincent manages to cast haste on the group, giving everyone an advantage over the flow and ebb of time over the creature.
Inspire courage: +2 compentance to Attack, Damage and Charm and Fear Effects.
Haste: An extra attack at highest BaB and +1 to attack, AC (dodge bonus) and Reflex.
Zanzu moves into a position to flank with Durin and strikes with his beak. Another base beast, there are no pickings here, I hate this forsaken place thinks the tengu.
Durin is a little slow getting his hammer off of his shoulder, but once he does, and aided by Vincent's words and magic, he makes three quick and devastating attacks...
... that connect solidly with resounding thuds as the hammer head meets muscle and bone.
Round One; Init 11:
Unsurprised that the situation has devolved into combat, Khun-duhn brings his horsechopper to bear against the gray giant.
Two of Barak's carefully maintained crossbow bolts slammed into the grey humanoid's flesh, coating the Dwarves in a spray of blood. Kirilarien did something with a wand in her hand, to no apparent visual effect. Moving into position, Zanzu stumbled into a small but deep section of bog that completely threw his aim for a moment, taking precious moments to recover. Marcus' spell was more obvious, coating the ground beneath the Giant in Grease and urging the large beast to fall. The tenacious grey-skin kept his balance even as he faced off attacks by Arachiel and Khun-Duhn; the former's sword cutting true while Khun-Duhn's horse chopper was swatted aside by the Giant.
The hulking beast went on the offensive, its massive jaw sweeping over half of the group and tearing chunks from flesh and clothing alike in its frenzy. Marcus' summoned horse was torn from the Material Plane underneath him by the punishment, adding insult to injury as he tumbled into the bog before receiving his own bite, leaving the Conjurer badly injured. Khun-Duhn's armour narrowly saved him from a critical injury as the Oracle winced in pain at the strength of the blow.
With his allies in position to distract the Giant and Vincent's magical inspiration bolstering his rage, Durin was just barely able to hit with all three of his mighty hammer blows. Lost in his berserker state and recalling fights with Giants in his younger years, Durin shattered the bones in both of the Giant's legs, bringing it to its knees before lining up a colossally powerful swing that broke the thing's neck. Arachiel and Zanzu leapt back as the corpse of the Giant threatened to crush them, slamming into the bog with a wet squelch.
Zanzu dives back, landing on is backside in the dirty muddy ground. "Let us know when you're going to hit something Durin, we can start to run then!!" He flaps his mud and gore splattered feathers, "I'm gonna smell nasty all day now, unless someone can give me a shower!" he sits disgruntled, looking at Durin as he leans on his hammer, satisfied with his work.
Durin offers a hand to help Zanzu up. Why should you smell any better than the rest of us? he teases.
Marcus hastily retrieves his saddlebag, suddenly plopped into the muck and then moves to study the creature.
I'm glad there was only one and it stopped for a chat. The Desolation is dangerous enough without being unable to see whats trying to kill us until it gets close.
Lets try a few more hours and strike a camp.
"My thanks for the healing, Arachiel," Khun-duhn growls to the aasimar paladin. "Marcus, are you still wounded? I can cast a healing spell on you if you need it," the battle oracle offers.
Zanzu takes Durin's hand as he's pulled up out of the mud. "I know I'd said I'd come along with you on this Durin, but you didn't tell me it would be all dust, mud and ...." he looks around the desolation "nothing, well except for the things that want to eat us." Zanzu clucks in his grumbly way as he looks down at his feathers once more. "And I gave up a nice comfy, warm and relatively safe bed to join you all on this...nature ramble...blah!!.....It's at times like this I'd wished I'd taken up the weed and smoked a pipe!"
He looks around, without much enthusiasm for any sparkling metal or gems that would be reflecting the light, if the fight might have dislodged something, but in all honesty if was more out of habit, than the desire to search and find something.
When the others had finished their recovery, he answers Marcus, "Another few hours it is then" he shrugs.
Marcus thanks Arachiel and Khun-duhn for the healing, clearing the blood off his shirt with a cantrip and making a face at the holes in the fabric from the creature's teeth.
Fishing his pearl of power from a pocket in his cloak, he re-casts his mount spell, an identical horse coming into existence and standing in the blook-soaked mud where the former was destroyed.
Lets be off then.
A search of the grey-skinned Giant revealed no items of value, but the group felt satisfied that they had likely slain a rare and dangerous predator of the Boiling Lands. Pushing on, those among the group walking on foot found their fitness and endurance tested to the limit over the next hour, with the two Dwarves remaining the only member of the five foot-bound members of the troupe to not succumb to fatigue as Khun-Duhn began struggling, requiring the attention of Kirilarien to keep up with the marching pace. To their credit, Lord Vincent and Zanzu managed to keep pace without falling behind this time and before long, the group had passed the rift itself and were steadily marching through the foul, noxious, bog-infested marshland towards the fort marked upon Marcus' map. Although now into the afternoon, Barak estimated by their previous travel that the fort was only three or four hours march away. Although visibility was appalling in the thick mist, the messenger/guide was fairly sure the group was headed in the right direction.
The stout Dwarf Barak finally gave in to the inevitable at the 11th hour of marching, his feet tired and aching from the constant walking. While his fatigue was removed by Kirilarien, Zanzu had fallen behind again and had to be magically healed to continue.
After 12 hours of marching, the group was clearly struggling to continue, many of the group fatigued once more and of the marchers, only Lord Vincent and Durin remained fresh. Khun-Duhn seemed fatigued for a time but found a second wind, but Arachiel was also clearly suffering- the aches and pains of riding in heavy armour all day taking their toll.
Having healed away the aches and pains of the march, the group were pleased to see that Barak had led them true through the mist; they had reached the large trench marked on the map and therefore the outpost, if it still existed, was less than an hour's march away!
These muddy trenches are typically 10 feet deep and anywhere from 5–20 feet wide. After all these years of erosion most are little more than vaguely defined ditches, but many still cut through the landscape in much their original condition. The occupants of old lined them in many places with palisade walls of hewn logs to ward off charging attackers and to separate the trenches into discreet defensible sections, though most are long since shattered or reduced to rotting heaps of mulch. The shattered bases of many of the wooden towers still sit above these digs.
Within the trenches themselves are the remains of many dugouts — often half collapsed— where the soldiers of long ago slept or sheltered against attack. Often the mud-encrusted bones of those who fought and died here are visible in the muck alongside rusted and useless equipment. Entry was usually gained by wooden ladders or steps cut into the embankments, but most of these have deteriorated to uselessness. Fortunately the sides of the trenches are fairly easy to climb, though slippery with mud, requiring only a DC 15 Climb check. The front of the trenches, facing the city of Tsar, were always set with fields of sharpened stakes to break up enemy charges, but these have mainly been reduced to no more than a few rotten stumps rising from the ground.
___________________________________________________________________________
Extremely tired from the day's marching, the trenches seemed to offer a respite against the horrific weather, fumes and marsh of the Boiling Lands- but how safe would such places be, which were surely home to other denizens of the Boiling Lands? Would the group push on to the promise of an ancient outpost, despite the sun starting to set?
"We're almost there. I don't care to spend another night out in this desolation. Let's push on to that fortress," Khun-duhn growls wearily.
Do you think it wise to arrive at the fortress at diminished capacity? I doubt salvation awaits us anywhere out here. Durin warns.
The fact we see the fortress as a possible base to operate out of speaks to the likelihood others have had the same idea... the fortress is unlikely to be uninhabited.
Marcus' rope trick isn't all that bad...
Struggling to breath in the foul airs of the bogs and the tiredness that pulsates through his weary muscles, Kanzu croaks "Mark this day in your journals, for I agree with Durin. Let us rest before we attempt to discover what evils might reside in the fortress. You know, we could find a safe tower and use it to sleep the night. Maybe even two, what d'ya think, would it be safe and defensible. Then we can save that trick of Marcus, only if needs must."
If it was a bit less late and we were a bit less tired I'd agree with Khun-duhn but I don't fancy wandering around in the dark and the muck looking for something we're only hoping is there.
I vote we find somewhere to hole up and try in the morning.