Ushyle nods as Doxon, the half-elf's boon from Milani protecting the Warpriest from the worst of the shadow giant's blows, drops her from his onslaught. He turns his attention to the spiders, already marked as targets, and he activates bane versus magical beast as he steps into flank with the tiger shaman.
With a snarl, the grappled tiger that is Vael viciously claws and bites at the spider holding him.
Ushyle's opening cut bifurcates the phase spider!
Unfortunately Vael can't connect at all.
Round 2:
Ushyle: Move Action
Round 3:
Raen: Go
Enemy: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Ushyle: TBD
Vael: TBD
Doxon: TBD
Black: 98
Raen sends a shimmering ray of light into the phase spiders several eyes, temporarily blinding it.
LOL
Raen uses her oft neglected ray. The phase spider is immediately blinded.
It understands there is no hope and vanishes from sight, like never to return.
"Well fought, Doxon," Raen compliments the dwarf. "You look a little worse for wear, however."
She takes a moment to survey the giant's corpse before turning her attention back to the bomb on the ceiling.
Raen finds a few pieces of treasure on her person; potion of cure serious wounds; Other Gear +1 etherealness breastplate, spiked chain, cloud engineer badge.
Raen thinks that attempts to move this thing, or casting spells on it are... risky really risky.
Raen hands the potion to Doxon. The wand still in her hand, she gives it another wave, sending warm feelings through Whistle Pig, Doxon, and herself.
"Volstus seeks to claim all of Avistan; Korvosa is a reasonable place to begin that conquest. I do not like it either, little one. With luck," she nods to Vael, "we can disrupt those plans."
"I suggest that everyone retreat to the engine room. I will remain here with Whistle Pig. If luck is not with us, I will attempt to shield us from the worst." She smiles lightly at the halfling. "But I think luck will be with you."
Vael's eyes turn solid black as he says, "The Spirits of Fortune are with you."
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Once WP sees that everyone in place. He removes his armor and sling staff and places them next to Raen. "Watch these, would you? I know you will take care of them for me if anything...happens." He looks at his most favorite things for a moment with an odd look in his eye. In a spilt second the look is gone and a smile in on the halfling's face. He whips around, and head to the giant dead spider and Vael chants behind him...
He arrives at the corpse and studies it for a quick moment and get to work... A tug here:
at lucky snip there...
and...
Raen calmly places the items into her bag, and in returns retrieves a sizeable diamond, which she grips tightly in her palm.
Whistle Pig gets to work. It's tricky business, and his nerves get the better of him. Working without a schematic itself makes it even harder.
He makes a wrong move.
Then he makes a second wrong move.
The magic of Good Hope keeps him from making a third mistake. He then corrects his two errors.
Finally he extracts the components which fuel the explosion.
The bomb is disarmed.
Raen puts away her now sweat-drenched diamond and retrieves Whistle Pig's belongings. "Glad to have your steady hand with us," she says, passing the halfling his things.
"Shall we rejoin the others?"
Doxon humbly accepts the potion from Raen.
When they've all retreated to the engine room, Doxon quaffs the potion.
He then draws on the Warmth of the Forge to continue the healing of his wounds.
Now, how is everyone else? Is anyone hurt?
Vael retrieves a wand and tends to his own wounds.
"That is enough progress for today, I think," Raen suggests, looking around the tired company. It is strange to think that they began the morning in King Tytarian's quarters at Ashpeak, now far away. "The antechamber west of the southern platform seems the most suitable place in mind, unless we would consider Renfal's prison. I recommend double watches."
"Agreed," Raen replies simply, thinking of the diamond in her pocket. As usual, she plants her iron spike of safe passage in the floor of the hall, making it look as though the passage leading to their campsite has collapsed.
1. Vael and Doxon
2. Hamilton and Raen
3. Ushyle and Raen
4. WP and Raen
5. Lykophos and Raen
The evening? Is it evening? It's hard to tell in the bowels of the castle after a non-stop fight to the Storm Tyrant's lair. Regardless, your rest passes quietly.
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WP sits quietly in the floating castle. Raen was a few steps away. he wanted to sit closer to her, but he didn't want to intrude. She had been very closed and quiet recently. He looks on at his friends while they sleep with a sense of calm. Clam wasn't an emotion Pig had a lot of experience with. As a slave is Cheliax, it wasn't an option. When he fled, he was always afraid of being caught. Even when he settled in Trunau, he didn't real feel safe. Always in the back of his mind he felt like a visitor. But now, this group of people: humans, dwarfs and whatever Ushyle is. Was Ushyle still a half-orc or is he a half-elf inside now? Did the human part of him stay the same and the other half change? He made a note to ask him when they all got home.
WP smiled at that last thought: going Home. Then his thoughts turned to the bomb and his smile faded. He had nearly kept everyone from going home today. IF he hadn't caught his mistake in time, everyone would have been dead and it would have all been his fault. He didn't think Raen, despite how powerful she had become, could have survived. The idea that any of his family not making it home was too much for the halfling to even think about. But he knew he would do everything his little body could do to make sure they made it home. It's the least he could do.
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Pig gets up around the same time as everyone else. As he preps his gear for another day in the castle, a thought crosses his mind. "Do the giants know that we are here? or do they just not care? It seems odd that no one here realizes that folks are missing."
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WP activates his ring and moves towards the stairs.
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For nearly their entire two hour vigil, Ushyle sits quietly a short distance away from the Varisian wizard.
So much he wanted to say: gratitude for her faith in him, for her leadership; appreciation for her studied arcane craft, for the items she stitched and fashioned by hand; recognition for her ability to puzzle out that which he often couldn't fathom, for the watchful eye she kept on all of them.
So much. Yet all he could muster was the uncomfortable silence that hung heavily between them.
As the hour to wake the halfling neared, he stood up and cleared his throat softly. I, uh...I didn't say thanks. For, you know, the stuff you...picked up while in Absalom. That was rude of me. He pauses, then: Thanks. And he moves over to wake Whistle Pig for his watch.
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Hamilton and Sammi both snore lightly.
The stirs circle around to a new level. The air here is a little fresher. Almost immediately you spy a new kind of giant.
To the north, freestanding, giant-sized shelves that almost touch the ceiling block off the northern section of this large storage area, leaving only a relatively narrow free passage along the west wall. To the west is a steel gantry and the base of a dismantled winch, next to the gaping, square mouth of a dark shaft in the floor. Archways exit the space to the east and west. In the room the muscular giant has dark gray skin and fiery red hair. Her lower jaw bears sharp fangs, and she wields a huge, primitive spear.
She doesn't seem to notice you.
Raen made sure to collect the last scope of stormsight from the western balcony before settling in for the night. The weight of the long day is heavy on her, and she is quickly asleep.
She wakes promptly at the end of the dwarves' watch, even before the come to rouse her. She bids them good night and takes Agrimmosh into her hands, reworking the haft and grip to improve its balance over the long hours of her four watches.
As the hour to wake the halfling neared, he stood up and cleared his throat softly. I, uh...I didn't say thanks. For, you know, the stuff you...picked up while in Absalom. That was rude of me. He pauses, then: Thanks. And he moves over to wake Whistle Pig for his watch.
Raen is almost startled by Ushyle's breaking of the silence. After a moment of quiet hangs between them, she replies. "Ushyle." The word is soft, almost chiding. "Your presence, here, is more gracious than any expression of gratitude which niceties might require. Do not take pains to thank me. You have done so already. It is I, who ought to thank you."
* * *
After dawn breaks, Raen trades her all tools vest for one of a cloud engineer's badge and casts her morning spells, leading the shadowy horses Bellows and Rosewind to Doxon and Ushyle. She stuffs the vest and her iron spike back into her bag.
Pig gets up around the same time as everyone else. As he preps his gear for another day in the castle, a thought crosses his mind. "Do the giants know that we are here? or do they just not care? It seems odd that no one here realizes that folks are missing."
"Perhaps Volstus and his servants of privilege consider it a mark of dishonor to stoop in the basement halls. Perhaps they expect their less fortunate servants to finish us, or are confident in their means to do so should we continue to pester them. Or, perhaps, they cower above, and dread our coming."
As the rest of the company halts at the edge of the stairs, Raen watches the outlined halfling slip up the stairwell. She casts her own spell to follow him with her mind's eye.
Raen also notes that she wishes to visit the site of the disarmed bomb, first thing, to confirm that it was not reset during the night.
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Vael stares off in the darkness, alert to the sounds of snoring from the group. He's distracted by his own thoughts for some time. After a while he glances at his watch mate, Doxon. In dwarven he says, "Do you feel it, Doxon? I can. My teeth feel a kind of jangling. An ending, I think. What kind, I'm not sure. But it'll be something."
"It'll be nice to be rid of this place too. There's a lot that I miss. Like my brewery. The taste of a good Oakfist Ale. The other beers of Janderhoff. But I think I miss my family most all. My parents and grandparents, even if they never really understood me. Even the other clans I'm related to. Though maybe not the Craghorn clan. They're a wild bunch," he chuckles to himself. "What do you miss, Doxon?"
Vael works through the morning rituals, bestowing magic on the group and preparing himself as usual. Lastly, he goes to each of them and places a hand on their shoulder. Instantly they feel the familiar tether of life-giving energy. "It's odd to say so, but know that I will bleed for you this day. It's a choice I make gladly. Let my meager strength be yours. But... try not to get hurt, aye?"
aiga giants are towering, gray-skinned nomads, standing 20 feet tall and weighing 5 tons when fully grown. With skin tones that range the palette of gray from pale dove to slate and sooty charcoal, taiga giants naturally blend into the shadows, mists, and squalls of their hilly forest homelands. Their hair runs from flaming red to auburn, and is typically worn long and loose, or pulled up in a headband or tie fashioned from braided strips of hide and beads of polished wood, bone, stone, or metal. They wear garments of natural materials, cured hides and layered furs in particular, often decorating their garb with beaded tassels. They sometimes go unarmored, or wear simple breastplates or breeches of darkened leather, though in times of war they may don full suits of hide armor and mount great wooden shields, usually painted with the sigil of their totem animal. Their primary weapons are long-hafted spears, which they wield in melee as well as hurl at distant foes, and they are equally adept at tearing up the landscape around them and raining rocky debris on their enemies. While their lower jaws bear sharp, tusklike canines that protrude even when their lips are closed, their teeth are for eating, not fighting, and are only useful in combat for the purposes of intimidating enemies. Taiga giants build few permanent habitations and tend to live in deep wilderness areas, particularly in the depths of the vast boreal forests that blanket many subpolar regions.
He knows they don't have anything special about their defenses. Just hit them really hard.
You check the hallway. Neither door gives you any hint that there's life on the other side, though both are padlocked. The hallway turns at the end, leading to a set of stairs which go up slightly, ending in a double door.
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Vael stares off in the darkness, alert to the sounds of snoring from the group. He's distracted by his own thoughts for some time. After a while he glances at his watch mate, Doxon. In dwarven he says, "Do you feel it, Doxon? I can. My teeth feel a kind of jangling. An ending, I think. What kind, I'm not sure. But it'll be something."
"It'll be nice to be rid of this place too. There's a lot that I miss. Like my brewery. The taste of a good Oakfist Ale. The other beers of Janderhoff. But I think I miss my family most all. My parents and grandparents, even if they never really understood me. Even the other clans I'm related to. Though maybe not the Craghorn clan. They're a wild bunch," he chuckles to himself. "What do you miss, Doxon?"
Doxon sits down next to Vael and is quiet for a moment before looking over to him. I can feel it. There's anticipation in the air. It's the same feeling I get after putting the final polish on a new sword, when I'm ready to swing it for the first time. Have we been tempered enough or will we shatter like glass? We've had many great victories together, but we've each suffered defeat as well. Soon we will see if the crucible of our time together has forged us into weapons capable of defeating our greatest foe.
Doxon leans back and takes in a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
It will be nice to be done with this place, to drop the final hammer on our quest. I'm very tired of giants. Not something I ever thought I would say when we first started our adventures together. I most miss the forge, the focus of working a lump of metal into something useful, the exhaustion of a day spent at the anvil. It's when I feel closest to Torag.
What occupies my thoughts more, though, is what happens next. We have a home together in Trunau that we've spent little time in. We've wielded weapons of legend, defeated armies, unleashed might enough to fell kings. Is life in a tiny, remote backwater enough to maintain our fellowship? Raen is on a path to be amongst the greatest wizards to have ever lived. I don't think there is a door in all the world that could keep Whistle Pig in. You have a spiritual connection to Powers that the most pious could only aspire to. Even Torag teaches that we must forge our successors; we must pass on our knowledge and skill to the next generation. I do not know if we can do all that lies ahead for us in Trunau. What occupies my thoughts more than anything is how soon will be the last time I see all of you.
Vael pauses and thinks. "We've all changed a lot in such a short period, at least as you and I reckon it. And your point about Trunau is apt. It may contain some of us, but others it will not. For myself, I have a task to fulfill once this is done. But afterwards? I don't know that I can allow myself the rest. To use your analogy, I feel like this quest is itself the forging of an axe that is my soul. It will need to be put to use, to serve its purpose."
He pulls out a cigar, lights it, and offers it to Doxon. "Care to share it with me? It's my last one, so we'll definitely need to finish this up soon," he says this last bit with a chuckle.
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Doxon takes the offered cigar and gives it a wary look. He brings it to his lips and inhales deeply.
Cough! Cough! Doxon tries to stifle his outburst.
Smooth, he chokes out as he takes another puff and hands the cigar back to Vael.
You eventually break the eye off of Whistle Pig and turn "east." After a long hallway your sensor comes to a square room. This square room is bare, with the exception of a low, circular dais in the middle. A stone building block with inscriptions etched on it sits atop the dais.
The stone block on the dais is similar to the stones used to build the walls of the castle’s first floor. An inscription in Giantisg is engraved on each of the block’s four vertical faces: “Like the fire of a star’s birth” on the eastern side, “Like the air, water, or earth” on the southern face, “Like a rock by magic hurled” on the western side, and “Like a mountain or the world” on the northern face.
The doors here are practically hermetically sealed, preventing the eye from progress. The exception is the room at the end of the hall, which happens to have a small opening, intentional by the look of it. It's a simple thing to pass through it.
The room, tiled with fine ceramic, contains a large showering area, with an enlarged porcelain shower basin equipped with two silver faucets. There's an open window, so you push the sensor out and back around to the "south."
Coming back in you find a new room, this one occupied. This dark room appears to have been almost completely sealed shut for some time. The floor is littered with the wreckage, splinters, and shards of numerous destroyed wooden barrels and glass demijohns. Within are a quartet of monsters each towering menace has a horrible, vertically aligned mouth and arms that split at the elbows into twin clawed hands.
The sensor reveals one more room beyond. A weapon rack stands against the western wall of this room, along with a table to the south and a pair of stools in the corners.
Raen narrates for the others as her scouting proceeds. "Once the halfling returns, I suggest we briefly sojourn to the site of the bomb, then engage the taiga giant at the top of these stairs."
"Fair enough. Continue to take the fight to them," Vael says. And though his words are enthusiastic, his tone carries a fatigue that cannot be cured by rest.
Raen knows a lot about taiga giants. She's also heard of gugs. Gugs are inhuman monstrosities that dwell in the deep places of the world. Whether they were banished to the dark lands by ancient gods or the light-loving races they terrorized, or perhaps were brought to the deep realms by dark powers from some even more inhuman nightmare realm, is unknown, but gugs are loathed by other races for their carnal rites of slaughter. They have no particular defenses, but are immune to disease and poison.
Whistle Pig sneaks back past the taiga giant to rejoin the rest at the foot of the stairs.
Once Raen has finished her own scouting, she leads the others back to the site of the bomb to verify that it has not been repaired. Whistle Pig gives her a hand.
Satisfied, Raen sets an extended alarm spell for the area . She then uses Agrit's pearl to recover the spell.
The bomb hasn't been touched since your last visit here.
Raen breathes a sigh of relief. "Shall we ascend the stair, then?" She pauses for a moment. "Taiga giants have a much-maligned history, yet evil does not always dwell in their hearts. Perhaps we might begin with a conversation, in this case." She looks meaningfully at Vael.
Raen floats up the staircase along with the others and comes to a stop once in view of the taiga giant. "Good morning," she begins simply.
"Aye, I would prefer not shedding blood. I would like the chance to talk," Vael says, picking up what Raen is putting down.
He moves forward with Raen, but keeps his feet to the floor as he does so. "And well met, noble masters of the taiga," he says, speaking in the tongue of giants. "I hope we can have a moment to talk with you, as I have a great deal of respect for your kind. I suspect that we both would rather be wandering the wilderness then trapped aboard this flying citadel. Do you mind if we take a moment to talk peacefully?"
The giant is taken by surprise, not expecting the party. Her surprise doesn't last. "You are here? The champions of Trunau! I shall flay you all!" She immediately scans the area.
She seems to be scanning in order to make an immediate escape.
She turns her gaze to Doxon, "Thief! Your skin shall make a suitable satchel!"
(Extra +4 Mountains/Hills, +2 Subterranean )
Round 1:
Ushyle: Go
Whistle Pig: Go
Vael: Go
Raen: Go
Hamilton: Go
Doxon: Go
Taiga giant: TBD