Ham motions to the next door.
Raen nods and scans the northern doors for magical auras.
Pig Approaches the door:
If not trapped he checks the door for sounds:
WP tries to pick the lock:
Raen finds nothing at the door and Whistle Pig agrees and then opens it.
A table draped in red cloth sits against the west side of the room. Holy symbols and other objects pertinent to worship and divine sacraments are laid on its surface.
Vael moves into the room, heading straight to the table. He looks over its contents to identify the nature of the various religious items, and to see if there's more to see.
"Will ye help me, Tulia?"
Tulia flits in on butterfly wings to search with her shamanic friend.
The pair looks over. Tulia has a flash of insight. She pictures herself made of metal instead of flesh. All of a sudden she she's herself in the dark tapestry. There's something wrong. She's not whole. Vael floats beside her. His mouth is blackened and burned. He's missing an eye..... The vision ends.
There seems to be nothing but the trappings one would expect in a temple to Urgathoa.
Tulia shudders. "I don't like this place. When can we burn it to the ground?"
She leaves the room, Vael in tow.
"Let's see what the southern door has in store for us. Whistle Pig?"
The halfling complies. Pig Approaches the door:
If not trapped he checks the door for sounds:
WP tries to pick the lock:
The door to the south is safe. It looks like an antechamber designed for giants about to enter the silenced room. The walls depict a titanic figure composed of ice, tall enough to overshadow mountains, stumbling into a vast, mist-shrouded body of water which matches the statue of Thremyr and the scene as a creation story that explains the genesis of the frost giants. This room is otherwise empty.
Raen scans both rooms for magic.
Raen's scan comes back with nothing.
Raen notes that one door remains, which she scans for magic.
Pig Approaches the door:
If not trapped he checks the door for sounds:
WP tries to pick the lock:
Several crates and barrels are stored in this room. Most seem to be barrels of beer, but one contains giant moonshine and another is a cask of fine Varisian wine. Other boxes contain culinary spices, candies, and delicacies.
Raen carefully scans for magic, and asks the halfing to search for traps.
If none are found, she calmly loads as much as possible into the giant bag of holding, and destroys the rest.
There's nothing else here. You're confident that you've scoured the temple to Urgathoa.
After finishing the packing, Raen fills the others in. "I suggest we pass by the Lower Encampment before we evacuate for today. My glamer will allow us to remain hidden, and we can deposit these collected goods in the tent of an unsuspecting giant. Such a cretin shall undoubtedly gorge itself on this unexpected bounty and, when discovered, suspicion of the slaughter of this temple's inhabitants shall be cast on them."
Vael nods. "A good plan."
Raen casts her spell as the party leaves, heading to the lower camp. The walk is extremely treacherous as hundreds of giants, trolls, and beasts prowl the settlement. Once at the lower encampment, the party looks around.
Enormous hide tents litter the landscape here, erected in wavering lines and interrupted in places by large fire pits. The snow is mixed with mud and flattened to the ground from the heavy footfalls of a small army. Even in the open air, the pungent smell of unwashed bodies in close proximity is too strong for any breeze to diminish for more than a moment.
The peace here is fragile at best. It won't take much to start a brawl, sow discontent, and generally cause mayhem...
Raen calls upon the power of her ring and casts a secondary invisibility spell on Whistle Pig, while the others remain covered by her sphere. She whispers to the halfling: "Little one, please identify an empty--but inhabited!--tent nearby. And return here immediately!"
Whistle Pig finds a place that's juuuust right. With pride in a job well done, the halfling leaves the tent and rejoins the party.
After a long and fruitful day, the Heroes of Trunau return to camp to rest.
The sun rises on the party's third day in Skirgaard, though it provides little warmth in the thin air.
Where to now?
During the night, Raen continues her work on Whistle Pig's ring, but it will take several days yet to complete.
Raen casts her morning spells, augmenting her life force and conjuring armor.
"I nominate the gristmill and storage silo for today's activities. Our efforts thus far have focused largely on food supplies, and I see no reason to discontinue that trend while similar such targets remain available to us. A hungry giant is a discontented giant."
"Aye, let's do it," Vael says, shaking his spear to urge everyone onwards.
The party heads out on the hours long trek to Skirgaard. Today the wind is a little more bearable, but the temperature is still low enough that even breathing is uncomfortable, even with some magic to make it easier.
Today's target; the gristmill. The building is is a plan, cubic structure. There's a guard tower close by, and the guards there seem to be keen on their duties.
There's also the loud sound of the mill in use as you approach. There are a pair of double doors on the south end of the building...
Raen takes a moment to assess the tactical environs.
It is a wooden structure which stands approximately 20 feet tall, and the doors are made of strong wooden doors. The guard tower is roughly 175' away. the frost giant occupant is reasonable alert. If you weren't invisible, he'd easily spot you.
The first task is to get inside. Raen consults with the halfling and the strange dwarf in a low whisper.
"I propose that we approach the structure from the facade opposite the guardpost, and maneuver close to the wall. The halfling can then use his magic to slip through the wall--and come right back!--to confirm whether this is an appropriate point of ingress. If so, I must ask you Vael to employ your warping spell to transfigure an appropriate section of wall to splinters, permitting our entrance."
Cool.
"I ken loosen planks so we ken take them down to enter, but it will nay be quiet. If ye ken blanket the spot in magical silence, we'll be safe."
When Ushyle mentions that he can conjure the silence, the dwarf nods. "Then we have a plan. Pig, ye pop through and see if'n we've a good place to appear through, and be back quick like. Then Ushyle will cast his silence, and the Spirits of Nature will do their part on the wall. Once weakened, we gather up and Ushyle and Doxon ken take down the loosened planks. Invisible and silent, we get to work ruining their food."
Raen raises her voice only slightly above a whisper. "We must be prepared to evacuate promptly. Once the gristmill stops running, the guards will surely note the lack of noise and investigate. We must be swift."
Raen raises her voice only slightly above a whisper. "We must be prepared to evacuate promptly. Once the gristmill stops running, the guards will surely note the lack of noise and investigate. We must be swift."
Would it make more sense to set up the gristmill to break, catastrophically, on it's own?
You know? Make it break down after we're gone. Easier for us to escape, and no-one to blame but shoddy construction or maintenance?
A gigantic millstone lies in the center of this open, single-story building. The device consists of four rollers on a circular stone base attached to a center spoke. Each roller terminates in a tenfoot- long handle mounted with human-sized manacles. A wellworn footpath encircles the millstone. A smaller apparatus with giant-sized handles on either side sits in the northwest corner. A chute opens at the top of the device, feeding into a spiked grinder that yields crushed material in a basin below. A wagon loaded with barrels sits next to the southwestern doors. Throughout the building are piles of materials to be milled, from wheat and barley to heaps of humanoid bones.
The mill is operated by a total of 12 enslaved humans. Watching over the operation are a pair of frost giants armed with mancatchers. One of the giants looks particularly tough...
Raen listens closely to the halflings report. The presence of a dozen human slaves complicates matters considerably. No longer is a sabotage operation believable, if the guards are dead but the slaves are not, and getting them safely away will be challenging to say the least.
"I fear that the time is not right to free these slaves, much as a feel for their condition. The danger to Trunau--and these enslaved--is too precarious to risk discover at this juncture. I recommend that we strike at the Storage Silo in the Gristmill's stead."
Ushyle's brow furrows at the discovery. Raen is right that we cannot risk destroying the mill while the slaves are about. He does not look at the Varisian as he speaks, but rather turns to Ham and Whistle Pig. Perhaps, once we have sabotaged this silo, we might come back in the night for the slaves, else they will surely become the new food source should we leave them.
An unadorned stone building stands here, more a silo than a tower. A steady line of footprints leads to a single large door set in the structure’s southeastern side. It's about 40' in diameter. Outside the lone door stand a pair of ice trolls and a dire boar...
"Fine. But we cannae wait too long, else when they run low on food the people become food."
Having voiced his concerns, the shaman moves on.
"Agreed, Vael. Perhaps we may soon, when better prepared to evacuate personnel."
At the storage silo, Raen again maneuvers the invisible company to the rear and checks her surroundings to confirm that this side is not visible by the guards.
Once she feels satisfied, she uses her magic to remove a single massive stone block from the wall and peer inside.
Raen has no problem removing a stone. The silo is, in fact, full to the brim with grain. The interior is divided up in to different areas to hold specific grains. There's also a spot for the trolls to relax here.
Raen peers inside, then straightens. "I have some magic that may serve here. Fire magic can be employed to torch the warehouse. Alternatively, we can seclude ourselves in the silo and wait for the trolls to enter for a break, slay them, and then torch the silo. If we wish to accelerate this process, I can lure them inside with falsified cries for assistance."
"Fire be a good plan. If there do be a natural surface, I ken give us a place to hide in waiting."
"let's just bar the doors and let the fire kill them."
That's an awful way to go for anyone, Whistle. Even trolls. It's unnecessary. If we are to take life, we should do it face to face.
I... I've been quiet, and searching my soul. I think I'm OK with fire--it's not poison. I have to keep reminding myself that we are at war, and there are no good choices in war. Let us battle the trolls, set the building on fire and let the flames take the bodies.
"Aye Hamilton, I dinnae like all of this meself. I'm a brewer, not a warmonger. But all this subterfuge be a necessary evil. Yet we can have some honor and fight them fair."
Vael looks to Raen. "I say we lure them in with yer magic, then Ushyle drapes the battle in magical silence. Once the trolls be dead, we burn the place down."
I'm with Ham and Vael. I'd prefer a straight up fight with the giants. Fire can take the granary and the bodies. I can also assist with keeping the battle silent.
Raen nods her assent. She crawls inside and waits for Vael to cast his spell.
Vael steps in, finds a good spot, and chants... setting things into motion.