oops
There is no indication from the air as to the color of the dragon, but as Storn lands and makes a beeline straight for the treasure pile, Quill sees a single red scale among the claw marks. There is no sign of a dragon's presence, but Molly knows that no dragon would leave its hoard for long unless it had a very good reason.
You quickly assess the goods in the dragon hoard and find them well worth your trip. There was armor, weapons, potions, scrolls, and of course a small pile of coins and gems.
"Quick," Sander urges, "we still have time to get out of here before it comes back!"
Mega-Storn positively squeals as he looks over the dragon's hoard. He looks at the group.
"It's probably a red dragon, so we should expect fire. And fear," Sander says .
Sander knows that red dragons are typically immune to fire, their own and that conjured by others, as well as paralysis and sleep spells. They are strong, with many different attacks - from teeth to tail, wings to claws - but are vulnerable to cold magics.
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"Breathes fire, huh? I suppose that's better than not being able to breathe at all, which feels terrible too," Quill seems sad for a moment, trying to keep in the moment and keeping watch on the skies.
When the party is ready, he is ready to slowly and careful sneak downstairs to light the Forge, taking care that the area is safe before storning things up.
Chwaer admires the dwarven plate until she realizes it weighs almost as much as she does. At the mention of fire, she nearly drops it, "not sure I want to get close to a dragon! If nobody else wants that crossbow, I might able to put it to use."
Sander's happy to head down to the forge too, hoping the dragon blames the giants and they all kill each other.
Storn sighs miserably, lookingly sadly out at the landscape that actually has a dragon.
"Fine, but if anyone asks, I had to be knocked out before I'd go with you."
He heads dwon to the forge, quietly agreeing that they just need to be quit of this stupid place.
The spire was empty as all of the occupants of the cathedral were engaged in holding the doors to the building. Sneaking through the actual cathedral was a bit hairy, as there were at least ten giants there, but again they were focused on the defense of the building and not a handful of small folk sneaking around by the statue. With relative ease you made it to the heart of the forge. Now, if only you knew what you were doing.
You recall the words Etena had given you regarding the relighting of the forge.
“According to the sacred texts, four ancient heroes first brought Minderhal’s Forge to life."“The first was Mymrith the Maker, priestess of Fandarra, who prepared fallen warriors for the afterlife by anointing their bodies with sacred clay. She lined the forge with the clay to contain the fire within."
“The second was Aduromi, the Priestess of Crystals, whose veins ran hot with molten metal and who could temper steel to a hardness that would cut diamonds. She brought with her the secrets of the fire geodes, which once ignited would burn for a century. “The third was Jogrothir the Hunter, guardian of the sacred horn Drakesbane, which he used to call the ancient drakes native to the surrounding peaks. Jogrothir brought the forge to life, for he alone was able to capture the dragon’s breath, the only flame hot enough to ignite the fire geodes."
“The last was Rosag, the Preserver of the Forge. A great priestess of Minderhal, Rosag held the secrets of water—both its ability to temper metal as well as its capacity to quench the sacred flames. She performed the Blessing of Rosag, the final incantation that stoked the fires and sanctified the forge."
“Only by following in the footsteps of the blessed ancients, by repeating those acts which have been undone, shall the fires of Minderhal’s Forge once again blossom.”
Sander nods. Once the clay is laid in, he suggests someone try to light the geodes on fire.
Storn tries to start ordering people around and then realizes as someone big, strong, and dumb he's probably just best listening to Quill. He gets to work with the grunt labour of lining the forge while enlarged, his big meaty Storn hands working the clay like it was... clay.
Storn laid the clay foundation carefully, listening to Quill and Sander's advice. Then, he carefully tapped on the fire geodes with Aggrimosh, cracking the stones without destroying them or unleashing the thunderous explosions contained inside. Fire-red crystals lined the inside of the stones, along with an oily liquid. A few flicks of the firestarter was enough to set the oil alight, but it quickly burned out. A more virulent catalyst was needed to truly set the geodes aflame.
Chwaer watches with a growing sense of unease, "hey guys, I think we need to let Storn tame a dragon to get these lit. Didn't Etena say something about dragon's breath?"
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Quill looks at Sander.
”Did you make some really nice fire chili for that festival a few years back? Can you recreate that? I was pooping fire for a few days after trying that,” Quill remembers a bit uncomfortably.
”Otherwise, I don’t have much fire magics. Not what the Elf that Hunts the World offers.”
"Molly, do you have any fire magic?" Sander asks. "Or ... it might need blood? Etena said Aduromi's veins ran hot."
Storn's face breaks into a wide grin.
"Or there's that dragon."
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"I can beat it up and point it at the furnace?" he offers helpfully. He then snaps his fingers.
"No we got that... thingy. Right?"
Storn drops his giant bag of pressies and dives into it, rifling around before producing a big spiralling horn..
"This thing makes dragons like it, right?"
"Maybe if some other magic doesn't work we can try that," Sander suggests, dubiously. "But can any of us play that?"
"Right," Molly sighs at Sander's question. "I'll give it a go."
Chanting by now familiar Words of Power, the Witch waves a hand over the conglomery of clay and crystals, and sprays it with arcane fire.
The geodes look a bit charred after Molly's spell, but they do not go up in flame. It looks like dragonfire, or the blood of dragons is the only thing that will make these stones burn.
"I think we should go back up top," Sander says unhappily. "Maybe we can try to lure it down to one level lower, but it's not going to want to fight somewhere it's not comfortable. On the bright side, the giants probably won't react to it flying into its lair."
Chwaer looks at Thorn's horn, "what's that do? Will it draw the dragon here to us where we could ambush it?"
"I think we've got some great bait to lure it down with," Molly points out. "We stole its hoard. That sort of thing cheeses dragons off something fierce. If we leave a trail of its coins, it'll come fast -- and the giants won't hear us blowing a glorified trumpet."
"Give me a bit to choose the right spells to fight a dragon. I like Molly talking about a trail of coins. The horn can probably bring the dragon here but I don't know about how to make it breathe fire. I can stand in front of the forge and get the dragon to attack me to light the fire. It will be glorious! BAAHAHAHAAHAH!"
Sander isn't sure, remembering how they snuck in here.
"I think the Forgeheart itself is safe?"
Storn sighs miserably. "We already just wlaked over the entire damn mountain range TWICE. We're lighting the forge, we can just kill any giants who get in our way. They don't care about this place anyways."
Chwaer sets her axe against a wall so she can stretch and crack her knuckles. She looks at Storn and chuckles at his confidence.
Storn nods over at Quill. "Good idea, let's go fight the dragon in its lair, bring the geodes up, and make sure they get breathed on."
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Despite the fact that Storn really wants to light the forge, no one else is really of a mind to do so. In the end, you decide that you can always come back if there is a need/desire to relight it, and this way you aren't giving the giants a sign that their gods really do want them to stay in this valley and get along.
With that in mind, you climb back aboard the zepplestorn and leave Minderhal's valley. You may not have completely routed the giants, but you did cut off the head of their leadership at this recruitment and mustering station, setting the Storm Tyrant's plans back a significant amount. You can only hope that without strong leadership here, the giants will split back into tribes and factions, and kill each other off. In any case, the depredations of the surrounding area should slacken, giving the frontiersfolk some surcease from giant raids.
As you leave the valley, you argue among yourselves as to where you should head. There has to be a major settlement around here somewhere - Janderhoff was to the east, or was it north? Sander sadly remembered the piece of parchment that dropped out of Quill's pack a few hours ago. That was the map, wasn't it? Typical.
*** END OF BOOK 3 ***
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”Didn’t we have a map? Who has the map?” Quill looks at Chwaer as if the dwarf was bogarting the map. Then he remembers Storn heading into the woods alone, where bears do their business. Did he have the map with him?
”How much further to JacketsOff?” Quill asks, mindful and worried about entering the Dwarven fortress.
"Not much farther now,"[/b] Sander reassures Quill, lamenting that the young elf dropped the map.
"We might wanna land a ways out and shrink Storn. Dwarves hate Giants. They'd likely shoot us down if they think we're an enemy flying up to their city."
Storn continues to float along while everyone continues with him either strapped to the giant man or taking turns in the huge bag of holding.
Molly idly kicks Storn on the ear.
"Pipe down. It's a city. We should be able to see the skyline, no trouble. And nobody's going to give directions to us if they see you come hovering into view like the -- "
(Molly has been whistling at any birds that come nearby, trying to get directions to Janderhoff with her Feral Speech Hex.)
Chwaer chuckles at Storn being seen as a giant. She already thinks of him as more of a teddy bear. One with massive claws of course. "it looks so different from up here, I'm not of much use. But I will vouch for you when we land Storn."
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In the morning, Quill's eyes are full of tears. Rather than rushing towards the most crispy bacon, he barely drags his feet to the plate and doesn't find the most charred pieces, just mostly crispy ones (like a freakin' uncouth barbarian). He's clearly been up all night, thinking about something.
In fact, his lower lip is quavering, and he frequently takes steps to steel his resolve as he reaches for toast. He's quiet and pensive until he explodes with the turmoil inside him...
Quill erupts, spilling his jellied toast to the floor. "I can't do this anymore. You guys need real heroes for this. And that's not me!"
Quill slumps into his chair, relieved to have that burden off his chest.
"I'm going to go back and tell everyone what has happened. Maybe there are true heroes who can come help you. I'm not a hero. I'm...I'm...a fletcher. I can't do this," he bemoans his weakness.
"I'm sorry. But also, we can put up signs here in Janderhoff! I'm sure there are going to be plenty of dwarven heroes and giantslayers here! How can there not be! Oh man, yeah...we'll get 10 or 20 *professional* giantslayers to help you. Yeah, that'll be just perfect." Quill almost appears to believe what he is saying.
"Sander, I can give a note to Louly if you want. And Storn, I can go punch someone in the back of the neck for you. You know, I think you'd like that," Quill offers whatever aid he can before he goes.
"I'm probably leaving this evening. I'll find a caravan down to the lowlands, then make my way back home," Quill wishes wistfully...and see if I can make a life with Marigold Pottersmoot, my beloved.
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Storn lets out a roar of disapproval. "DAMNIT QUILL WE HAD MORE GIANTS TO KILL!" He looks at Quill in utter disbelief, ready to just beat the crap out of the elf and haul him along to the next location personally.
"We've been doing this forever! We're -supposed- to do this forever, that's what Gorum demands." He glares at Quill and lets out a miserable sigh.
"Bah. Fine. Your Elf Who Hunts the World is your path and I will not try to claim I understand the point of your God but you believe what you believe. I never thought I'd call a wimpy elf my brother and say that I love him, but here we are."
Storn clanks over to Quill, spiked plate mail and all, and gives the elf the most painful hug of his life. He goes back to sit down and stare at his bacon sadly. "Go tell the Iomedeans back in Trunau that I still think their Goddess is dumb."