Despite Whistle Pig's fingers bring in his ears, he can distinctly hear the sounds of snoring from the top of the stairs, which lead to the wall outside...
Six round boulders, each larger than a human, sit stacked in a precariously balanced pyramid atop this flat roof. There's a sleeping hill giant using the rocks as a pillow.
Below in the eastern courtyard you hear an orcish voice , but doesn't speak the language.
Nope. It sounds like normal conversation.
Raen grows concerned once Whistle Pig doesn't come back right away. "Do you think they've found the ogres already?" she whispers worriedly. "Are they hunting us now?"
|
WP sneaks back quickly and whispers to the group,"There's on sleeping giant, it looks like a filthy hill giant. There are a few orcs in below and to the east having normal conversation. They don't seem agitated."
" I say we slit this fool's throat while he's sleeping and head to another area of the keep. we still need to find those bones."
Raen looks to the half-orc. "Ushyle?" She nods at Gorum's Thorn.
Ushyle nods. You guys do the orcs, I'll do the giant. Time it right, though! He takes a moment to study the giant, then moves in and strikes when the halfling and Ranger are ready...
With stealth and precision Ushyle quietly, quickly, and cleanly severs the giant's head with a single swing of Gorum's Thorn!
Riding high on the quick victory, the party opts to retreat to the chapel in the dead of night. The spirit doesn't make its presence known, and even Droja is hard to see at first.
"Come noble saviors and bringers of freedom. Let me cure your wounds and provide succor for your travails..."
Cast at Caster Level 7
3rd (5/day)cure serious wounds
2nd (7/day)—aid, augury, cure moderate wounds, false life,
1st (7/day)—bless, cure light wounds, deathwatch, shield of faith
"I think not. For the curse upon this Keep to be as it is, the remains must have been ritually defiled or placed in a position of poetic irony. Beware heroes, for there may be more places of haunted dread within these walls."
Ham rolls out his bedroll and begins to take off his plate armor.
I wish we could make a fire. Nine Hells, I guess it's rations again tonight. Too much to ask that there was something we could eat in that larder.
Ushyle has a slight smile on his face as he prepares to bed down himself. If there were, the half-orc says, it would likely have been more crowded, no?
He is unaccustomed to the breastplate, but does not take it off, and his natural endurance makes it more tolerable than it would be for most. There are strange noises in the relative calm of the chapel that keep him on edge, but he manages to drift off to a light sleep anyway.
You have visions and dreams of the fort being bathed in a rain of rose petals... You awake in the middle of the night. While dark, you can see just fine. The symbol of the Lord in Iron on Gorum's Thorn seems to be marred and tarnished...
(Assuming this doesn't prevent him from regaining his spell slots, in which case he'd probably assume it's just a dream and go back to sleep.)
On the 8th day of Abadius, the party wakes in the Redlake Chapel, mere feet from an brigade of killers.
Just as you're about to open the chapel to move, the sound of orcs talking can be heard on the other side...
“You hear about Grash? Poor bastard met the wrong end of one of them ogre ’ooks. They caught ’im sneakin’ into their territory. He said he got lost, but the ogres didn’t buy his story. Cooked ’im right up and ate ’im, they did, and they’re drinkin’ grog out of ’is skull now. If I get my hands on the ogre who did that, I’m gonna use ’is head as a chamber pot.”
After some time the cost seems clear, so the party makes a dash to the tower. Blood from yesterday still stains the ground, but the bodies apparently caused no alert. At the base of the tower you can hear a bow being fired from the top. After a few arrows and the sound of orcish agony someone from the eastern half of the fort yells, "Cut that out!"
The door is unlocked, and the room is sparsely furnished, nothing more than the ground floor of a large guard tower. The stairs to the second story are outside. You hear the heavy footfalls of something above.
===============
Before leaving the chapel, Vael looks to Droja and asks, "Can ye renew yer magic from before? Gird us, ye ken?"
===============
Hearing the heavy footsteps, Vael gestures to keep quiet. Then he whispers, "Giant above, ye ken? Thoughts?"
"Indeed heroes. I shall do so now." One roll for everyone
This tower seems identical to the other one, but this one has a set of stairs to the second floor inside the room...
Vael waits patiently for something from Whistle Pig...
In a hushed whisper
Has he been gone a long time? Feels like it's been a long time.
Ham's grip on his scimitar tightens a little.
Indeed, there's definitely something up top still. Sounds like a small ogre taking pot shots at something (or someone)
Vael smirks at the suggestion of an ogre squealing like a pig, especially given who it's coming from, but says nothing.
"The orcs seem rather agitated at the ogres at present," Raen comments. The others can see the wheels turning in her head. "If there's a lone ogre up above, perhaps we can incite a little internecine conflict with a clever ruse."
Reaching into her satchel, she produces a potion of disguise self. "This could make one of us look like an orc, tribal garb and all. And if the rest of us can arrange to avoid being seen..."
The Varisian hands the potion to Ushyle. After he drinks it, his orcish features grow to dominate, and Twisted Nail tribal markings decorate his skin. Hidden by the magic, his birthmark still keeps him warm.
"And for a little extra help," Raen added, touching him on the shoulder and watching him meld into the background of the desolate room. "Now the ogre can't see you either! Don't forget to shout something about tolerating the ogres no longer to the audience."
Ushyle asks no questions when Raen hands him the potion bottle, though he hasn't quite grasped what she has in mind. As he sees the orc features take over, his stomach drops — it is so much of what he has tried to rise above. He is grateful for the invisibility so he doesn't need to see it anymore.
Gorum's Thorn in hand, Ushyle tries to find the most vulnerable spot he can discern.
Ooh!
Visible again, he is likewise grateful for the angry ogre in front of him so he doesn't have time to think about his appearance.
Ushyle easily creeps up to the top of the tower. The creature their is neither man nor ogre. It's sum awful, deformed mix of the two. Its body twisted and deformed, this lumbering giant has tiny eyes and a mouth of jagged teeth presented in a furious roar. It even has an extra arm growing half formed out of its shoulder!
Nevertheless, Ushyle gets to his grim work. The powerful cut nearly fells the creature. As the illusioned Ushyle becomes visible the giant shouts, "FILTHY ORC BASTARD!"
Round 1:
Vael: Go
Ogrekin: TBD
Hamilton: TBD
Doxon: TBD
Ushyle: TBD
Whistle Pig: TBD
Raen: TBD
Ogrekin: 27
Knowing that the key to this ruse is that the creature not raise an alarm about the true attackers, Vael begins a chant to arrest the creature's movement. He waves his arms around in slowly shrinking arcs, and the holy symbol around his neck glows as he completes the magic.
Ogrekin! The mutated and disgusting offspring of ogres and....
not ogres.
Before the monster can holler, and betraying the party's location.
and the monster continues to simply stand there.
Vael: Hold Person
Ogrekin: Held
Hamilton: Go
Doxon: Go
Ushyle: Go
Whistle Pig: Go
Raen: Go
Ogrekin: 27 (Held)
The first stone sailed harmlessly into the dried moat, but the second is a shot to the temple, and fells the ogrekin!
Ushyle takes a few clumsy hacks at the corpse while shouting Death to the ogres! in the most orc-like voice he can manage, then celebrates the kill before yielding to Raen's silent image spell and slinking away to the steps.
How do I get this look off me? he asks gruffly.
The dirty work done, Raen steps forward and conjures an image identical to the disguised Ushyle, superimposing the new orc on her close companion and letting it continue to hack at the ogrekin's body. She listens closely to the sounds outside as she concentrates on the spell, and is surprised to hear Ushyle's gruff response. Only then does she realize the pain she's put him through.
"Concentrate a moment and think of your true self. Will the magic away," she says softly.
Ham looks annoyed, but otherwise fine.
Which way now? To the south side of the courtyard?
From a distance to the east comes a voice, "ENOUGH! ONE MORE AND IT'S OVER!" The voice speaks in Taldane, but with a giant accent to it.
Can we toss the deceased out the door there, Doxon asks, pointing to the right. Then shout something orc-y about how much orcs are awesome?