Jarrek dodges around the giant dwarf, falchion raised high and kindling with pale violet flames as he dashes in to slash at the ugly beast's side. "Don't bother praying, ugly! You're going to get to talk to your god in a second!"
Round 4 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Svarog-acted
Seamus-acted
Jarrek-acted
Haftor-waiting on position
Giant
Trianne
As the half-orc closes, raising his blade high to strike, the cunning giant takes advantage of her superior reach. Her gaff flashes out, not striking against him, but against his heavy blade.
warhammer att damage
Haftor squares up toe-to-toe with the giant, using an overhand smash attack, his hammer dripping and fuming with acid.
Jarrek drops the remains of his falchion and tears the greataxe off his back. "Not good enough, witch! You die today!"
Sigh. Guess I'll use Mending after the combat.
Jarrek snatches up his axe, and with a single blow lays out the badly-wounded giant!
Searching the area, the party finds the ruins of what were once a pair of suits of chain mail sized for dwarves, a couple of only slightly rusted battleaxes, two heavy steel shields, some bones that are recognizably from dwarves (at least to Haftor's trained eye), and a lot of other bones. It looks like the giant has been here for at least a few days.
Trianne caught her breath as the giant fell, and she stayed as she was, invisible, because Svarog was drawn taut with another arrow ready to fly. She listened and looked for other signs of trouble until the magic she had summoned evaporated, materializing her into view. The blazing speed had dissipated as well, and she strode by Jarrek and his rent falchion at a normal pace on her way to the giant.
“I can fix that,” she said, pointing without stopping.
She fished a vial from her pack and drew her dagger as she approached, waiting confirmation of the beast’s demise. Then she sawed into a vital section of the rubbery skin and captured some of the giant’s blood in the tube. Stoppering it, she shook it and held it up to the light. Satisfied, she stood and said, “Finally.” She cleaned the blade and reflexively sheathed her dagger with a firm shove of her wounded arm.
“Ow,” she grimaced, the pain in her damaged shoulder flaring anew with the adrenaline having drained away.
Haftor slips his hammer into his belt, and makes a sort of harrumphing sound. "Nicely done, all. I never even touched big ugly. Shame about yer chopper, though, Jarrek." He takes several paces off away from the downed giant, just to be safe. "Rally up, all. We've taken a wee bit of a beating, and I can channel some healing fer all of us."
None of the gear detects as magical.
"Right then." Haftor surveys the scene, fists on his hips. "I intend to bury the remains of these unfortunate dwarves. There are worse places than under these ancient, ruddy great stones. I would appreciate some help either hauling big ugly out of here, or burning 'im, at least."
He thinks on his own words for a moment, nods his head slightly in determination, and starts digging graves.
“Her,” Trianne corrected, testing her newly healed shoulder. “She’s female, and I expect burning her would be well nigh impossible in these conditions. But I can help move her or stones as best I can, now that my shoulder’s fine. Thanks for that.”
She walked the circle as she talked, examining the constructed site to see if anything surfaced in her memory. Then she set about assisting in the cleanup with both might and magic.
Jarrek nods his thanks to Trianne. "I'd appreciate that. The axe is nice but a big damn cleaver's more my speed."
The big half-orc agrees with Haftor and immediately pitches in. As he carries, drags, and digs, he says "Can't be a coincidence, a giant right in our way when we're trying to find a hidden magical druid grove. I wonder if she was part of their defenses or trying to find her own way in."
Both battleaxes have maker's marks on them. There are no smaller personal effects to be found.
"Tradition would have us bury them with their weapons, but in this case I say we bring them with us so we can return them to the sister."
Haftor ties the axes together and straps them to his pack.
When the work is done, Haftor speaks a brief prayer over the graves in the Dwarvish language, blessing the site, then he's ready to move on.
The instructions for using the lantern were to shine its light on the central menhir, then touch the menhir to be transported to the Vault of Thorns.
Jarrek sheathes as much of his sword that's still hanging together and gathers up as many of the shattered pieces on the muddy ground as he can find.
Looking at the ruin of Jarrek's sword, Seamus pipes up, Well, it might be fittin to carry one of them axes forward with you until Trianne can get the big chopper fixed?
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“Wait, wait, WAIT!!” Trianne shouted. “Touch nothing. Is this the standing circle for the Vault Mossmoon spoke of? Are we here?”
She closed her eyes and recited, mumbling except for the important bits, “…last of the druid circle that guards the marsh and the Vault…lantern…will show you the way…Do not touch the central stone before you've shone the lantern's light on it.”
She immediately went to Jarrek and uncovered the Ghostlight Lantern once more.
Svarog is of the opinion that camping here would be a bad idea. There are going to be plenty of scavengers coming after the giant's corpse, and that wouldn't make for a restful evening.
ETA: In Trianne's hands, the lantern shines so that the beam of light points directly at the central menhir.
Jarrek looked at Trianne then the others as he pointed the Lantern at the center stone. "Now what? Does it look different to anybody?"
As the light of the Lantern washes over the menhir, the thick vegetation that had encrusted it withers away, revealing a faintly-glowing, olive-hued stone.
It does seem that we should not spendin' time here much longer - I guess we're goin' in?? the gnome looks nervous, but ready to proceed into the vault. Do we just touch it? he looks to Trianne to see what she thinks....
“My studies were not planar,” Trianne replied, eyeing the menhir. “But I think we will be safer within the Vault than without. We swore to use the Council’s resources against the invading orcs and giants, and I feel Mossmoon believed us. He would have warned us if there was further danger.” She recollected a moment and then recited, “Silvermane said…it was created as a meeting place, greenhouse, and laboratory. Their last bastion.”
“Weighing that against the knowledge of orc and giant patrols and scavengers in the area,” she continued. “I would choose to move forward.”
Trianne moved slowly toward the menhir, extending a hand toward the glowing stone. Then she paused and switched the lantern to her right hand, her writing hand, reaching forward again with her left. When her hand connected with the stone, she attempted to ‘open the portal’.
As soon as Trianne touches the stone a tracery of green-glowing filaments like thorny vines covers her. Before anyone can react, she vanishes.
Trianne, your first impression is that it's very bright where you are, and after the relative shade and surface mists of the marsh it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust.
Jarrek grunts. "Sh!t!" He rushes forward to touch the green stone.
Seamus, seeing Trianne vanish, follows Jarrek closely in touching the stone, although with his height and the swampy mess, he's likely behind. Come on you two! he yells over his shoulder at Svorg and Haftor...
With two more flashes, Jarrek and Seamus are gone.
Trianne is just getting her eyes cleared when two of her compatriots appear beside her.
Haftor had just reconciled himself to an evening camping in the swamp when he realized that it wouldn't be happening. With a surprised grunt he quickly slogged over to the glowing stone. He spared a look at Svarog to ensure that he was also in the act of touching the stone before reaching out and touching it himself.
Trianne is the first to be able to see her surroundings clearly. A lone menhir identical to the one in the circle the party came from stands in a clearing in a vibrant forest filled with thick, verdant plant life. Exotic flowers drape the standing stone, which pulses with brilliant chartreuse light. A path lined with rose petals leads from the monolith to a giant floral bloom carved from wood. Two carved wooden stamens stretch out toward the pulsating menhir, extending from either side of a set of ornate doors carved into the giant flower. An overpowering fragrance of flowers and sweet grass permeates the air. The sun above sits at its zenith, basking the area in light and warmth.
Before Haftor and Svarog can join the first three, a pair of tiny creatures that look like bundles of sticks leap out from concealment and stab at Trianne and Seamus with sharpened branches! Both of them hit.
Round 1 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Enemies-acted
Seamus
Jarrek
Trianne
Haftor (will appear at this point with a standard action remaining)
Svarog (will appear at this point with a standard action remaining)
Before anyone can react, the two creatures stab again, tittering with a sound like the click of wood on wood.
"Twigjacks, malevolent fey creatures that consider themselves defenders of ancient forests!" Jarrek pulls the greataxe off his back and leaps toward the closest twigjack, the huge blade kindling with pale violet flame as he does.
Jarrek demonstrates the effectiveness of axes against the fey, inflicting a terrible wound on it. It emits a moan like the sound of a bending branch.
“Ow! You little basta— OW!!” Trianne shouted when stabbed. “Mossmoon will not be pleased.”
She stepped away from the murderous bramble and summoned an interposing shield of force. Her other hand slipped into her pack and pulled out a vial of alchemist’s fire. She had expected a room, a chamber or two, not an entire forest. Perhaps her understanding of demi-planes needed to be expanded.
Trianne recalls that they have a limited ability to teleport in areas of dense undergrowth, and that they're vulnerable to fire.
Ow! That 'urt! the gnome cries out, retreating from the threatening Fey creature, Hang on a second Trianne, I'll get to it quick! he says, backing as far away as he can.
"Eh?" The dwarf looks nonplussed. First a long boat ride, then dead and crazy dwarves, now violent foliage. "Oh, Torag protect me." Haftor intones in the old Dwarven tongue.
Svarog shoots at the closest twigjack (blue).
Svaros plants an arrow in the twigjack.
Round 2 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Twigjacks-acted
Seamus
Jarrek
Trianne
Haftor
Svarog
The red-tinged twigjack takes a short step back and looses a barrage of flying thorns and branches. The blue twigjack does something similar, stepping back into the dense undergrowth (which doesn't seem to slow it down any) and releasing a hail of thorns that catches Svarog, Jarrek, and Haftor.
Jarrek follows the twigjack into the brambles, greataxe swinging.