Haftor pats the new weapon on his belt. "If this she-giant wants the hammer, she'll get the hammer." The comment is half joking, but the warpriest's expression is grim.
Jarrek laughs and nods at Haftor. "She's going to regret sending her monsters in here!"
Haftor simply nods in agreement with Jarrek's comment.
Svarog, standing arms crossed as the discussions progressed, merely nodded curtly. If Haftor was in, he couldn't very well leave the dwarf now. Besides, the chance to take out orcs AND giants was too tempting.
Trianne stared at the locket for a time, realizing what it was and the meaning behind the included hair. She shared what she thought with the others.
“Someone who cared deeply for him knows that Skreed is dead,” she said. “Don’t know who yet, but revenge is a powerful motivator. Just be forewarned.”
-------------------------
When someone lifted the piece of broken giant spear from the work table possibly interested in selling it, Trianne firmly put her hand on it and said, “I can fix that. It’s just going to take a little time.”
-------------------------
“We do have a great deal more information than we did before and are willing to investigate further,” Trianne agreed. “But any details anyone has on Uskroth and the Mindspins themselves could be helpful. We don’t wish to race into the mountains unprepared.”
Trianne clenched her jaw a bit, stifling a yawn completely. She had been sleeping alright, but the hours hunched over her work had been long, and she felt there was so much more to do yet before they would be ready.
With your agreement to undertake the raid, Halgra relaxes, and Silvermane begins to sign again. "To aid you in this, I know a place where you can find items that may be useful. Northeast of here is a swamp called the Ghostlight Marsh, at the confluence of the Kestrel and Esk rivers. Long ago, when I was a member of the Council of Thorns, I learned of a demiplane created by the Council, that could only be reached from one point in the marsh. It is called the Vault of Thorns, and it is there that you will find this cache of items. I don't know the details of what they kept there--I was only a junior member of the Council in those days.
"Near the banks of the Esk, there is a stone marker, carved with a circle of thorns. That is where the path into the swamp starts. However, the entrance to the demiplane is hidden." At this point, he produces a lantern from below the tabletop. It is embossed with leaf patters, brassy in color, but the base metal is mostly covered with verdigris. "This is a ghostlight lantern. If you place the husk of a dead will-o'-wisp in it, the lantern will produce a beacon that leads to the circle of standing stones that marks the entrance. Once you reach that, allow the beam of the lantern to fall on the central standing stone--that will open the portal."
Halgra adds, "I thought you'd say yes, so I've secured passage for you on a keelboat that's going your way. Raag Bloodtusk is her captain, and he's agreed to take you there and then on to Redlake Fort once you finish in the Marsh. You have to help him sail the boat, and you also have to defend her if she's attacked. Now, Raag has safe passage from most of the orc bands in the area, so that makes the river trip much safer than going overland through Belkzen. Here's a letter for you to give him, so he knows you're who you say you are.
"Any questions?"
“Many, as always,” Trianne said with a smile. “But only a few that seem pertinent, and please pardon my ignorance. I am a newcomer to Trunau, and your generosity, with knowledge, the lantern, the town’s resources for defense, has already been exceptional.” She glanced around at everyone at the table to emphasize praise all around.
She then ticked off on her fingers as she continued.
“Does anyone know the history of this Giantkiller that the giant chieftain refers to?
“Does Trunau have a library or repository of knowledge that can be searched for information?”
“And this Redlake Fort is the one referred to by the giant chieftain? Has anyone locally ever been there or have tactical knowledge of the fort?”
"There have been at least three people styled as Giantslayers in the past fifty years alone--two dwarves and a halfling. It's a common enough title for a competent fighter in the Mindspins. Trunau--we don't run to libraries, as we haven't been here that long and we haven't had much of a chance to amass a lot of books. Redlake Fort used to be part of Harchist's Blockade, but it was lost when the orcs overran it and Lastwall had to retreat to the Hordeline. That was almost three hundred years ago." Halgra looks proud. "It was when the Hordeline fell that Trunau was founded, because we refused to retreat. As far as I know, no one but orcs and giants have gotten anywhere near any of Harchist's Blockade since it fell in 4482."
Haftor has one question to add to the list. "You said you didn't know what was in the Vault of Thorns, but do you know why it was built? And are you really giving us the location so we can empty the place of loot?"
"It was created by the Circle between this plane and the First World, as a meeting place, greenhouse, and laboratory. The Circle fell long ago--their tools shouldn't pass into oblivion with them."
Jarrek nods at the lantern. "Lots of will o' wisps in that swamp. Do you have any secrets to fighting them? Or surviving them, at least, so we can kill one?"
"As far as you know, is this Vault a secret? If it's in orc country, are there orc druids who know about this place, too?"
Trianne glanced away in thought for a moment, trying to recollect what she had read on the local area before traveling to Trunau and what specifics she could recall regarding Will o’ Wisps.
Unfortunately, her focus hadn't been on the lay of the land surrounding the Mindspin Mountains. She had been more concerned with the mountain range itself.
"There was not much available to read regarding the swamp unfortunately, though I know Wisps are never to be taken lightly."
Silvermane replies via translator, "There are orc druids, yes, but none were part of the Circle of Thorns. Will-o'-wisps are dangerous and capricious creatures. They can fade from sight, and are notoriously evasive. Normal weapons will affect them, though."
Svarog also recalls that will-o'-wisps feed on fear and death, recovering quickly from damage in the presence of terrified or dying creatures.
Jarrek whistles as Svarog helps him remember information about Ghostlight Marsh. "Lots of angry spirits there, but if we can hit it, we can kill it. Is the Marsh passable on foot or would we be better off on a boat- a small one, not a crewed one, I mean."
"As far as I know, it's passable on foot. You can probably borrow a small craft from Captain Bloodtusk if you need it, though."
Jarrek takes a moment to think, nodding to himself. "That's all the questions I can think of..." he looks at the others. "What about you guys?"
"I think I got it. We want to get to the Giantslayer's Tomb. To find it, we need the she-giant's part of the map to go with our bit. To get to her fort we need to ride on a boat with what sounds like an orc. We can stop off and loot a vault if we choose to. My vote is that we should. Bob's yer uncle."
Jarrek nods. "Sounds easy enough." He looks from the druid to Trunau's leaders. "I know you have your hands full rebuilding the town, but do you have anything you might be able to lend us that would help? Potions, horses, rations, weapons, anything?"
“A fair summation, Haftor,” Trianne said. “And not insurmountable given what we have seen so far. Completing this series of tasks would disrupt the Twisted Hearts for a time, buying Trunau a respite, at least from that front.”
She looks thoughtful for a moment, and then added, “I have only one other question. Is there someone, or perhaps a group of practitioners, that sees to the arcane needs of Trunau? Spells, scrolls, wands and the like? We may be able to better equip ourselves and Trunau for the challenges ahead if so.”
The dwarf councilor raises her hand. You last saw Agrit after you rescued her wife from the ruins of their burning house. "I'm likely the best wizard here, though from what I've heard of your deeds you're not far behind me."
Seamus, you've taken on a job guarding a caravan that's headed into Belkzen to the (mostly) human town of Trunau, a fortified settlement surviving in orc-held lands by the valor of its defenders and, it must be said, by their skill at avoiding rousing significant enmity from the fractions orc bands of the area. You've had an intermittent correspondence with another alchemist there, one Kira Ebonhawk, and the caravan is carrying some alchemical supplies that she requested.
The trip has largely been uneventful, so much so that the veteran merchants who lead the group are worried about what might be happening to draw the usual orc raiders away. The second clue that something may be amiss is the tall column of smoke in the distance as the wagons near Trunau. A hurried conference among the merchants ends with a decision to proceed, but you and the other guards are on high alert.
As the settlement comes into view, it's clear that it's survived a terrible attack. Some of the palisade walls have been broken down, the remains of a funeral pyre still smolder outside the walls, and some of the guards at the palisade gate are bandaged. There are several heads on spikes outside the gate--mostly orcs and half-orcs (one of whom has a heavily tattooed face), and a giant. The guards wave you in, though they watch you carefully.
Inside, the town is even more damaged than would be expected. Buildings have been burned or demolished, and the people you see quietly gaze as you pass by, with thousand-yard stares. You take your leave from the rest of the caravan and go in search of Kira.
The human, as it happens, is in her shop. It's survived the invasion intact; she, however, looks like she's been to the wars. Her hair is very close-cropped, and she explains that most of it burned away when she and some others fought the leader of the invasion, the tattooed half-orc whose head decorates the gate. The half-orc was himself an alchemist of some skill--Kira has his formula book now, and will let you copy anything you need from it. In return, though, she has a large favor to ask of you (on finding out that with the caravan's arrival you're at loose ends).
Holding her younger sister close (the girl gives you a wide-eyed stare), she says, "Our parents--they didn't survive. I'm the only one here for Jeska--" She gives the girl a squeeze. "--so I can't leave. But the others--they're going to go after the hill giant who sent the invasion before she can attack again. She was after an amazing magic hammer and a geode map. Since those items are still here, we're sure she'll come back when she rebuilds her strength. Can you help them?"
The gnome looks up a Kira, his goggles pressing down his red mohawk, Giants an' orcs 'a workin toghether? 'tis a bad sign lass. 'course you canno leave yer sister, but I'll take a look a' things, and see wha' can be done. Where do I fin' these otthers? Ammazin' magic hammer? I'd like fer sure to be seein' that meself! The gnome wanders around the alchemist shop for a moment, his clothing a slightly garish mix of utlitiarian and colorful. Finally coming to a rest by the door, he leans on his gnomish hammer-pick, So which way to finnin' these otthers? I've no love fer the giants hill or otherwise... he grins up at Kira.
"That was one of the things I hadn't known about--that there was a historical alliance between the Twisted Nail orcs and the Heart Eater hill giants. Uskroth, the hill giant leader, is buried under Trunau. Don't worry, Jeska--my friends will make sure they don't come back." She strokes the girl's hair. "The others are getting ready to travel--I'll take you to the Ramblehouse and introduce you." Kira and her sister escort you to the Ramblehouse, the town's sole inn (and also a boarding house for most of the halflings here, so you'll be able to get a decently sized room for the night), and sit you down with Svarog, Trianne, Jarrek, and Haftor.
"Here's a replacement alchemist for you, a gnome I've been exchanging letters with for some time. I think he'll do well working with you."
Haftor is a dwarf of average height and girth, with reddish brown hair and beard. He's wearing a simple, drab soldier's uniform of a sturdy woolen shirt and kilt. The magnificent stone hammer tucked in one of the rings of his weapon belt stands out by contrast.
The warpriest of Torag pauses in his meal of ham and potatoes to size up the gnome, and greet him politely, if not with any particular warmth. "If Kira's vouching for you, then we are well met. Are you up for some giant-slaying? Because that's what we're about."
The gnome plops down on a chair, Imma at lost ends 'ere in town, and Kira says you need 'elp with dealin' with some 'ill giants. I see there was a prety big battle 'ere, wha' happenow? his accent thick upon meeting the dwarf.
The gnome listens for a response and presents quite interesting sight, he is festooned with pouches and vials. Two bandoliers cross his chest holding iron vials. His bright red hair is cut into a mohawk, which is currently crushed under a pair of goggles. A bright yellow desert-style scarf is wrapped around his neck, where he could easily use it to cover his face. His left hand is covered in a heavily spiked gauntlet, and he places down a bizarre gnomish hooked hammer over the back of his chair. Beneath all the oddities, and explorer's garb, you can make out a fine chain shirt made of the thinnest links poking out from his sleeve.
Me name's Seamus MacWirst, I'm an alchemist, and a fire-touched Gnome. He says, obviously trying to measure the words he's using to not run them into each other, 'Tis a pleasure to meet ya. Do ya think we'll be after some giants today, or tommorra? 'tis better I know now, to get meself ready sos I can help. He begins to pull a seemingly endless and odd assortment of liquids, beakers and containers from his pack; finally finding what he was looking for and stuffing the rest back somewhat haphazardly.
Where Haftor is a dwarf of average size, Jarrek is a half-orc of epic proportions. He's tall, broad, and impressively muscular even for someone with mixed blood. He's also quite good looking by human standards, which is rare in half-orcs.
He nods at Haftor, a smirk on his lips. "We're assaulting a giant..." Jarrek looks over at Trianne "What's a giant community called? A hive? A den? A lair?"
The big half-orc chuckles and shakes his head. "Well, whatever it's called we're going right in there and kicking giant @ss where they live. That sound fun to you?"
“Trouble. That’s what they’re called,” Trianne said from her chair over her mug of brew. “Though I think they’re using the term tribe. That suits well enough.”
Trianne waved a friendly hand and said, “Trianne Ashton, but Trianne or Tri is fine. Transmuter and artificer by trade. You’ve got quite an assortment there. It’s a wonder you can put one foot in front of the other.” She finished this with a laugh of camaraderie that bespoke of knowing all too well the burdens of adventuring.
She is a hearty and robust Ulfen specimen with a long red braid that overshadows the utilitarian greens and browns she wears. Attractive, intelligent eyes dance around the table as she interacts with affable ease. No other items of note appear until she stands to reach for another roll from the basket where a book hangs chained to her belt, a length of dagger is strapped to one leg, and a sizable pack hangs from the back of her chair.
Seamus looks at Trianne and grins, See, I've got a secret.... is a magic bag! Won it in a card game with three Varisians, probably didna' help they were REALLY drunk. 'Nyway had to skip town on'a ccount they were sayin' I cheated 'em. As if to demonstrate, he randomly withdraws his alchemist's formula book, somewhat stained with ink and other unknown substances, then put the book back in the bag, and pulls a length of rope easily from it.
“Ho, ho!” Trianne laughed along in good cheer at the story, then cocked an eyebrow and an equally rakish half-grin. “Did you?”
ME? Nah, I jus' kept orderin' 'em drinks, and got more and more outlandish as the evenin' went along. Saemus laughs, If you are gamblin' a magic bag, bes' make sure yer opponent has been drinkin' at least as much as you! he pounds the table with a small hand laughing.
Haftor shakes his head disapprovingly at the foolishness of the intemperate Varisians. He then turns the subject back to their planned departure. "We're in no great hurry, to my knowledge." Haftor looks over to Trianne. "How much more tinkering have you to do?
“There’s always tinkering to be done,” Trianne replied. “I can even do some while we’re on the road, but the key is available resources, and time of course…and a little luck. But other than a few odds and ends, I can be ready to go whenever.”
Her mouth twisted in thought for a moment, and she said, “Because I think time might be shorter than we think. Because of the locket. They know it didn’t go their way here, and I think they’ll move quickly to get what they want.”
She turned her attention to Seamus then and continued, “I don’t know how much Kira has filled you in, but the orcs and giants have teamed up. Their leader is searching for a specific tomb and sent the raid into Trunau to retrieve a map and that hammer.” She gestured in Haftor’s direction.
“Don’t eyeball it with magic sight, if that’s in your toolbox,” she added hastily. “At least, be prepared for the raging light it puts off if you do.”
“Point being,” she continued, addressing everyone. “We need to stay ahead of them. I’d say we leave tomorrow as early as we can. Whenever the captain says the time is right.”
Nodding vigorously Seamus agrees with Trianne, Aye, she tol' me 'bout the orcs and giants workin' together. O' THAT's the hammer they wuz lookin' fer. the gnome begins collecting his powders and bottles, dumping them at random into his pack.
I'd be ready for the mornin' not a problem. he agrees with a smile.
Jarrek slaps the table and laughs at Seamus's story. "Remind me not to play cards with you!" He nods at Haftor and Trianne discuss their plans, then leans in as Seamus starts gathering up his things.
His voice lowered not to carry too far, he says "We may be facing a number of will o' wisps. At minimum, we need to find and kill at least one. Do you know anything about them?"
I can also craft the smog pellet, if we want to go that route...
Jarrek nods. "I'll go talk to merchants and see what kind of stocks they have left and we can leave as soon as you two are ready."