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He accepts Raen's magic but does not look at her during the process. "Do your magic Raen.but this conversation isn't over"He's highly upset with her, but he's not stupid.
Pig sets off for the herd. He knows some tricks of his own and after Raen's personal attacks from yesterday, he decides he should use them.'why is she such a troll turd?' he wonders
As WP approaches the coral, he takes on the aspect of small lizards of his youth.
the halfling then tries to jam the mechanism of the gate so the Shepard has to spend a moment to figure it out and close it...
He then climbs down the gate as quickly as possible
WP find s a good location that will conceal him while he does his last bit of work...
He quickly finds a nice spot to watch the pen. The Shepard is keen sighted and notices the gate within moments.
"For the Love of a Big Woman! Why can't folks close the gate when they leave? I bet it was that git, Flakec, again. I will have him cleaning these pens for a week when I catch sight on him!" As he approaches the gate he takes it with the crook of his arm while he tries to adjust the mechanism...
CRACK! The thunderstone strikes the ground at the far end of the pen.
As the invisibility spell wears off, Pig instantly blends into the surrounding like a chameleon and tries to make his way out of the camp during the commotion.
The shepherd, upon seeing the gate upon, roars in anger! He takes out a massive bag, big enough to fit three Whistle Pigs. The bag is limp, as if filled with flour.
Before moving to the gate, he hurls it at the gate, but not near the halfling The bag explodes on the ground, scattering red-dyed flour everywhere.
The Svathurim immediately moves to shut the gate. Suddenly a thunderstone cracks in the frigid air. The mammoths begin to stampede! The svathurim is just as massive as they are, so they flee moving around him. The havoc they cause after escaping is entertaining to say the least as they smash tent, fence, and smaller animals in their way!
Instead of running either after them or for back up though, the svathurim stays to fight. He snarls a challenge:
"So it is true. There are invisible saboteurs in our midst. Well, you've met your match now! Come, taste your doom!"
Thinking fast, Raen conjures an image of a tall, gaunt tomb giant dressed in flowing black robes. A symbol of Urgathoa hangs around the giant's neck, and the face, lean and hard, shares a kinship with the tomb giant the company slew some week past in the Temple. The image melds into place, as if the figure had just dismissed an invisibility spell.
The silent giant holds up a long, bony finger and wags it back and forth at the svathurim, then draws a scroll from a pocket, casts a spell, and vanishes with a distinct *POP*.
Raen frowns. "They are on to the invisibility, yes. My figments still seem effective, however."
"Our goal is to discourage the giants and reduce their confidence in their leadership. I therefore recommend that we strike the Mess Hall. Let the svathurim live another day, and let him be blamed for the mammoths' escape."
Vael nods in agreement. "I do hope yer magic remains convincing. I think it is, but we've been at this fer days, and eventually they'll get wise."
Mess hall sounds good. But I grow weary of this trickery. We should parley, and offer them an unconditional surrender. It's only fair.
Were it not for the pitched roof and stone fireplace, this ramshackle, single-story wooden building could be considered a shack, albeit one of immense size. A covered porch overhangs the eastern side of the structure, sheltering a door and two shuttered windows. A second door exits the building to the west, flanked by two smaller windows. The snow all around the porch is trodden into mud, and the smell of cooking food wafts from within.
There are the sounds of shouting coming from within:
"I’m very important around here! It’s already been decided I’m going for special training with the fire giants. Then I’ll get off this cursed frozen mountain and go someplace warm.” Then in softer tones, “Make sure you bring the stew to a full boil this time. Don’t want no one else getting sick. You and I both don’t want to be around here if that happens again.”
The party thinks that with a fair bit of stealth and an equal measure of either alchemical crafting knowledge or brewing knowledge, they'd be able to sabotage the meals here.
"If I ken get in there unseen, and have the chance to see what they be brewing, I ken sour the flavour without them seeing," Vael says. He glances to Raen. "We dinnae need the whole group for this. Best not, honestly. And I ken shed some of my load to... well, to help me be quieter."
With care, Vael removes the ironwood breastplate that has protected him over the past few months. Though to him it feels like years. He puts aside his backpack, only keeping his longspear. "Ready."
Ushyle places a hand on the shaman, whispers a prayer, and seconds later Vael disappears. "I'll be quick."
He then sneaks into mess hall.
When the shaman gets close, he looks to subtly add ingredients that will poison the good.
The brave dwarf slips inside the mess hall. Within are a trio of giants. Two of them are identical twin female hill giants. They're particularly corpulent, and even their stench is identical. The leader is a strange looking giant. This giant’s maw contains a pair of dripping tusks, but it is its gangly third arm that makes its appearance truly bizarre.
Vael makes his way to the kitchen proper, and discovers that there are some ingredients with which he can work. Vael pokes around and decides that the best option available to him is to turn tonight's dinner into a rapid delivery system for a laxative!
He works quickly and efficiently. One the way out though he accidentally knocks over a pot. The three armed giant comes rushing in to yell (assuming it's one of the twins.) By the time he arrives though, Vael has long since leaped to safety.
"Well done," Raen acknowledges upon Vael's return. "Shall we see what rumors bandy in the Upper Encampment?"
The party makes the short walk to the upper encampment. 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.
Tempers seem to be running high due to the frustrations of your efforts. It wouldn't take much to start a riot...
"What a stench," Vael says, covering his nose.
They're on edge, Ushyle whispers. Maybe we can push them over it. Won't take much, I suspect.
The half-elf keeps a keen eye out for someone whom most others avoid, and tries to point them out to Raen for illusion purposes.
"On edge? Do ye ken what'll put them over?"
Give them a reason to riot, the half-elf says quietly, and they will.
Raen spends a long time watching the movements of the camp, flying above it under the cover of invisibility. She waits until she spots two frost giants, devoid of any Urgathoan markings turn a corner into an otherwise deserted patch of trampled ground.
There she has prepared a show for them.
Atop the snow-dusted hardpack stands a small shrine to Thremyr, really more a small statuette (in giant terms) made of ice than anything else. Bending over it is a looming frost-giant woman clad in Urgathoan robes, and piled around its base are logs and kindling. The woman holds a ready torch to the kindling, and the flames leap up around the statuette. Already, the statuette melts away.
The woman straightens and turns, catching sight of the two approaching Thremyrites. She thrusts the torch in their direction and bellows a challenge in Giantish:
She snaps the fingers of her free hand and, with a *POP*, disappears. Behind her, the ice-statue and the fire die together.
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WP looks at Raen with an odd expression of frustration and sadness,"If that ring was finished, I could live in the camp for days doing nothing but listening to these over sized asses." He sighs and thinks for a moment."we have dried out the forest. All it needs now is the right spark to send it into a blaze."
Raen's plan works well. The giants, already on edge, find all the excuse they need. It takes them just a few moments to find other giants to take it out on. Tempers flare and before long a brawl breaks out between the Urgathoans and the followers of Thremyr.
With a hasty retreat the party can hear the fruits of their deception as they leave and head towards....
What's next?
"I suggest we strike the tannery, then retire for the day."
The party makes their way to the tannery. They take a somewhat circuitous route, as their is a lot of that red powder in places now. The giants are getting wise to an intruder...
A large, flat-topped log building squats in this remote part of the village. A well-trodden path leads to barn doors set in the main structure to the south and east. An area open to the sky stands adjacent to the north side of the building, surrounded by a tall stockade fence that blocks outside view, with a gate set in the northeast side. Built into the north side of the fence stand animal pens designed to let creatures in or out on either side. Smoke rises from the rooftop, and a rank odor pervades the entire area.
Ushyle notes — and points out — the patches of red powder all about. Seems subterfuge will only work a little while longer, he says with a mirthless chuckle. We'll have to go toe-to-toe soon.
He takes stock of the terrain and the building a moment. We're downwind from the wolves, he notes, so that helps. Maybe a fire to drive the animals out and then we finish the job...?
Good. I grow weary of this skulking. We should shine a light on these villains.Ham says with a deep exhalation. The fire plan is sound. I'm also in favor of sneaking in through the animal gates and confronting the workers there.
"The smell of the tannery should keep up out of the noses of the wolves," Vael says. "If ye need some divine fire, give me a source that'll keep the burn going and I ken give ye the flame."
Let's get to it. I'll take point.
"We may all be weary of skulking, yet we are each susceptible to being eaten by giants if we do not skulk. How do you suggest we enter the structure?" Raen asks politely. After a pause, "I have some teleportation magic prepared, but not enough for everyone."
DD sounds good. Let's do that.
Raen weaves the threads around her, transmuting her senses , placing a powerful glamer over Ushyle , and bending space-time to open a portal .
This area is filled with numerous racks where furs are allowed to dry and hides are cleaned and stretched during the tanning process.
Seeing the room empty , Raen grabs the trio again and 'ports them into the next room.
Moments after Raen's magic happens, Vael moves up to the pen and draws from the power of the heavens himself. Starlight swirls around him, transposing him to be in front of the door.
Knowing full well that the group could be in immediate danger, the shaman opens the door and steps in, spear at the ready.
Skipping the simple door, Raen uses powerful magic to snap the group directly into the next room. This area contains two large cauldrons that are raised off the ground so that small fires can be lit under them. Trap doors in the ceiling hang open to allow ventilation of smoke and fumes. Standing at each cauldron is a scarred hill giant, working some hides in the noxious liquid. Overseeing them is a cantankerous frost giant.
Round 1:
Whistle Pig: Go
Giants: TBD
Doxon: TBD
Raen: TBD
Ushyle: TBD
Vael: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
The giants roar at the thought of intruders. The frost giant barks a quick order to attack and grabs his mighty axe as he closes with Doxon
for
The hill giants, dim as they are, still manage to strike on an idea. The one to the north splashes the toxic chemicals at Hamilton:
but barely manages to get any out of the vat. Nevertheless, the chemicals are clearly very very corrosive.
The other hill giant laughs heartily and dunks his club in the chemicals before advancing.
Round 1:
Giants: ATK!
Whistle Pig: Go
Doxon: Go
Raen: Go
Ushyle: Go
Vael: Go
Hamilton: Go
Red:
Black:
Frost:
Ushyle studies his target (adding in the frost giant) goes to town.
[/spoiler]
Doxon's knee bends slightly under the frost giant's blow, catching the brunt of it on Agrimmosh's head.
You want to fight me?! Know that I am Doxon Greyforge, wielder of Agrimmosh, the Hammer of Unmaking and bearer of Nargrym's Hand; As Torag is the Father of the Forge, I am the Hammer of Retribution here to shatter the brittle iron of your bones against the unyielding Anvil of Justice!
Doxon begins to glow as he steps in and unleashes his fury on the frost giant.
Once, twice, thrice Doxon's attacks hit home. The giant tries to shout over the dwarf, but the attacks are simply too much for the giant to do anything but fight. The giant immediately changes from overconfident to scared. He steals a glance to the wall.
Round 1:
Giants: ATK!
Whistle Pig: Go
Doxon: Hit
Raen: Go
Ushyle: Ready
Vael: Go
Hamilton: Go
Red:
Black:
Frost: 71
In a flash a massive gash opens in the belly of the northern hill giant. Viscera spills onto the tannery floor in a steaming mess. The giant drops to the floor, dead. The trail of rose petals it leaves behind tells the heroes all the need to know about how.
The frost giant, through pain, screams ever louder the same sentence as before.
Round 1:
Giants: ATK!
Whistle Pig: Go
Doxon: Hit
Raen: Go
Ushyle: Giant Crit Kill
Vael: Go
Hamilton: Go
Red:
Frost: 71