The half-orc dodged and twisted, trying to stay close in with Yelena and avoid the incoming missile fire. It worked, to, until it realized that a dwarven shield may be slow, but it can still move.
Yelena sidestepped and brought her hammer whistling down to connect with the half-orc's head. A loud thwack echoed through the cavern as the greenskin's skull split like a ripe melon falling from a wagon. That quickly, it was all over.
"Knock it off, dead-eye," Molly sighs. "He's dead. Time to search the corpse and figure out what in the name of Calistria's gaudy toe-rings the point of this bit of tomb-raiding was supposed to be."
Sander takes a deep breath. And then another. And another.
Slowly he heads over.
"Good job, Yelena. That was close. Storn, are you OK? I have a potion that might help, if you want..."
He picks up his stones and puts them back in his pouch as he looks around.
"RAAAHH I WIL..."
Storn lowers his weapon and sees Yelena bring down the final killing blow. Grumbling, Storn mutters a short prayer to Gorum, acknowledging that this fight was not his for glory - particularly since he spent the better part of it under a dog.
He then woozily looks over, and spies little Sander offering up a potion. The burly warpriest looks a complete mess.
"Ahh, the resourcefulness of the halflings! Also, I like those bombs. Have you ever thought about joining the clergy?"
With the potion, many of Storn's wounds seem to heal. He offers a cracked, yellow-toothed grin.
"Let's see what stuff this guy has."
Muttering a detect magic orison, Storn loots the half-orc.
The half-orc positively glowed with magic items in Storn's sight. Not too surprisingly - at least, not to Sander - the majority of the items on his body were alchemical in nature. A potion and a few extracts didn't come close to signifying on that scale.
It wasn't until everything was removed from the corpse that Storn realized that the half-orc's body itself was magical. Well, at least a part of it was. The man's face, or more clearly the tattoos there, was glowing with magic.
The other items were certainly of interest, even though most weren't magical. A goodly assortment of alchemical items and potions were represented, as well as a folded piece of parchment that turned out to be a letter.
In addition to the items on the half-orc's body, there was the treasure around the giant chieftain's bones, the armor and weapons it wears, and that odd rock in the eye socket.
Magic items not readily identifiable
Sander lets out a snort at Storn's question, then a giggle and finally starts guffawing, almost loudly enough to match the Gorumite, though with a slightly hysterical tinge.
"Me? A priest! I ... Hahahaha!"
He wipes the tears from his eyes.
"Oh, thank you, Storn. I needed that. Me, a priest. Of Gorum?"
He devolves again into peals of laughter before finally collecting himself.
He winces as Quill bloodily jabs his arrow into the orc's eyes, and much more solemnly, pats the elf's flank.
"I think he's dead, lad. Let it go."
Looking over the slain orc's gear, he whistles lowly.
"A lot of this is alchemical. I can make good use of it, if you want, and if someone can help me carry it."
"And what about Uskroth? And the giantkiller?" Sander adds to Quill's question.
Hearing the words and names, she thinks for a moment on each on.
Looking about, she takes a moment to look over each and every item, a Detect Magic running as she looks over them.
"Are we going to be dealing with this level of combat all the time?" she says with a deep breath. [b]"I'm going to need someone to help train me a bit more if so..."
Storn grunts approvingly as Quill makes sure the body is dead.
"This is not the place, but some day I'll show you how to blood-eagle a fallen foe. That learns 'em good."
He also ignores Sander's peals of laughter and leans over Quill's shoulder - reading - but badly.
"Huh. Gren-sel-dek... isn't that the God of palace coups?"
Quill made sure the half-orc was put to rest before doing his best to help the others piece together meaning from the letter. He was unsuccessful in that regard.
Mariana recalled hearing the name Uskroth before, but wasn't sure where. As for giantkiller, the phrase was so generic it could refer to any number of fabled heroes.
Mariana looked over the gear carefully, focusing on the three most powerful items there. The half-plate doesn't reveal it's powers to her, but the necklace she recognized at once as a True Love Locket, complete with hair of the beloved one.
These gold heart-shaped pendants, which open to reveal
small hollows inside, always come in pairs and must be
on the same plane of existence to function. When two
people with a strong emotional bond (such as good friends,
family members, or romantic partners) each wear one of
the lockets containing a keepsake from the other person
(usually a lock of hair or small picture), the lockets’ magic
becomes evident. After 24 hours of wearing a linked locket,
each wearer knows the condition of the other as via a
constant status spell. In addition, when either wearer uses
the aid another action to assist the wearer of the linked
locket, the bonus gained is increased by 1. Lastly, once
per day, each wearer may use one of the known skills of
the wearer of the linked locket, as borrow skill (Pathfinder
RPG Advanced Player’s Guide 207). If either wearer of a
linked true love locket takes the pendant off, has it forcibly
removed, is killed, or travels to another plane, both lockets
cease to function until reattuned for 24 hours.
The hammer she was tempted to just write off as a magical warhammer. However, when she picked it up, the warhammer resized itself to fit her hands perfectly. She took a closer look at the dark stone hammer, and the symbol engraved on the head. It couldn't be, and yet...
Mariana had heard tales of the origin of the giants. The stone giants of the Mindspin mountains believe the giant god Minderhal used his hammer Agrimmosh to forge the firsst giant. The creation was imperfect, though, and Minderhal smashed his creation with a blow from the hammer, and the pieces became all of the races of giants that now populate the world. With that act, the stone hammer gained another name - the Hammer of Unmaking.
Major artifact
Aggrimosh appears to be a simple stone blacksmith's hammer, engraved with Minderhal's holy symbol. It functions as a +2 impact warhammer that automatically resizes itself to match the size and grip of the wielder. Once per day, and a full round action, the wielder of Agrimmosh can use the hammer to cast heightened enlarge person. This effect lasts for 20 minutes.
Molly takes a look at the half-plate when Mariana seems to draw a blank. She casts the appropriate cantrip and focuses her mismatched eyes... "Rrrgh. Never was any good at this stuff."
"Maybe someone at town can help?" Sander suggests. "If there's nothing else down here, we should get back and make sure Louly ... I mean, everyone ... is OK. Plus tell people about what we found."
"That locket seems awfully ... sweet ... for an orc to have too, doesn't it?"
"Sweet gods...no way in this world..."she turns the hammer in her hand and then looks over to Storn and Quill, "This Hammer...it's name is Agrimmosh...it's actually one of the few legends I know of this area...it is the Hammer of Unmaking...the very weapon that Minderhal, the giant god used to forge and unmake giants. This...this is an artifact." Mariana sits down, the hammer in her lap, then she pulls out a journal and ink and begins scribbling away, forgetting where she is and what she was doing.
"Hmph. Now we know what that Grenseldek, who uses giants and trolls, wanted. The hammer of Minderhal."
Storn stares in open awe at the hammer.
"This is a mighty weapon indeed! The making and unmaking of the giants in this very item. Such power in the iron. Uh... anyone mind if I carry it while we figure out what to do with it? Just in case anything needs to be unmade. With enthusiasm."
Quill bursts into the spray of the waterfall, having taken Yelena's position as the head of the impulse brigade. He stops to get his bearings, and is amazed at what he sees.
The orcish raid has dissipated, the remnants of the clan fleeing the town, where newly heartened defenders are continually firing fire arrows, ballistae bolts, and curses at the retreating forms. Whether the defense was stronger than they expected, or whether it was the loss of their giant ally, it is obvious that the orcs have lost their burning desire to sack Trunau - at least for this day.
He watched as Storn thumped up behind him, seeing Kurst and his outriders ride down a small group of orcs, their swords and lances driving into the greenskins. It looks as if Trunau had weathered yet another orcish attack.
Mariana wasn't in quite as much of a hurry as the others, and she grumbled a bit as the strong ones ran off to leave her to haul out the rather large and heavy horde of treasure by herself. Fortunately, Yelena was tarrying behind, and the archaeologist roped her into doing most of the carrying.
In accordance with her archaeological training, Mariana left no stone unturned. That included the stone in the eye socket of the long-dead giant chieftain. To her surprise, the other side of the rock appears to be a geode, with rich violet and verdant emerald crystals forming glittering crystalline patterns.
The geode's crystal patterns aren't random at all. In fact, they appear to be a sort of topographical map of the Mindspin mountains. A carved groove through the crystal appears to be a trail through the mountains.
"Ohhhhh...This is amazing!" she pockets the geode for now and waves for Yelena to follow as she plays catch up, rushing behind the group, showing the most signs of life she has shown in a while.
Sander, moving as fast as he can as his final extract finally gives out, pushes his way past Quill.
"We won? Thank all that is good in the world! I ... I have to go make sure Louly's OK!"
Without another word, he rushes off toward where he last saw his wife, hoping the town's defense didn't prove futile.
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"What? Where did all the fighting go? I wasn't done yet," Quill says, looking around. "Maybe there is some over there?" Quill takes off to the <another direction> looking for combat. Finding little, he takes off again, this time to the top of the walls. Then again to the whatever walls still stand on the other side.
Only when he convinced there is no fighting does he return.
"Nope. No more fighting...they seem to be gone," Quill confirms as he returns.
"What do we do now? We should find Kurst, huh?"
Certain that he is correct, Quill goes to find Kurst.
"Address breaches in the walls...help with the wounded...gather the dead...sleep for a week..." Mariana says softly.
"Yeah, all that," Molly says as she stows her crossbow. "But we also need to talk to people about what we found. All of it. That hammer alone is a ticking time bomb."
The Witch looks Quill up and down. "Look'it you, all fired up from your first real battle! Back home, they'd be pouring you a beer... Want to come grab a quick drink with me?"
Storn beams proudly as he looks over the victorious battle. He raises his bloody greatsword, roaring to the skies
"RRAAAAHHHH!!! BLÓÐ OG SIGUR!"
He turns, and delightedly hammers a fist the size of a side of beef into Quill's back.
"We've done it Quill! FIST!"
Satisfied, he nods proudly to the others.
"It is good to have fought beside you all. We will feast and celebrate. But first, let us go see to the state of the town and the wounded. Also I want to see what that half-plate does."
While the raid may be over, its aftereffects will likely be felt for years to come. Trunau has weathered many such attacks in the past, but by virtue of the giant, the siege weapons and army approaching virtually unseen, and the sabotage and betrayal at the gates, this was by far the worst the town had seen in generations.
The Lower City, often damaged to one degree or another during raids, was quite nearly destroyed completely. Almost every structure had been damaged by fire, with many being nothing more than burned out husks.
The Inner Quarter was also in ruins, having soaked up many fiery stones hurled by catapult and giant.
Fortunately, casualties were relatively few, as much of the town - including most of the very young and very old - had been in the Upper City when the raid started. Deaths among those of fighting age were high, but still less than might have been expected.
You pitched in where you could, helping with healing, or shoring up defenses. Quill was called off to man the outer walls with his bow and elven eyesight. Yelena was conscripted to help fix the jammed and ruined portcullises in the curtain wall. Molly and Mariana were dragged off to where a large group of wounded awaited care. Storn went his own way, the big man surprisingly gentle as he helped the wounded to the triage stations, and less so as he put wounded orcs out of everyone's misery. Sander found Louly, safe from harm, and the two embraced before telling each other of the night's adventures.
Likely, the tale of the route of the Twisted Nails tribe would be told for years, given that the townspeople had been outnumbered five to one, and taken by surprise to boot. The tribe was easily identified from the numerous banners depicting two metal pikes bent around each other. Kurst and his band of militia riders got a significant portion of the praise, having routed the main force when the orcish morale had broken following the death of their "pet giant". As a group, you received another large portion, being hailed everywhere as "the heroes who saved Trunau".
The next day dawned, the sky still smudged with the smoke that drifted from ruined buildings. You managed to get some time alone with Kurst and Jagrin Grath, and filled them in on what went on under the hill. Molly and Mariana, exhausted from the night's work, had fallen asleep puzzling out the strange tattoos on the half-orc's face that had glowed as magic. Finally, Molly remembered a folktale of a hag with a tattooed face. The tattoos were magic, and allowed the hag to look like anyone she wanted - usually a pretty young girl - in order to lure men to a grisly demise.
There was much to be done to rebuild Trunau, and you have a part in it. But, there is also the mystery of why the Twisted Nails, a tribe known to be led by a giant, wanted what was buried in the hill below Trunau so bad. It was unlikely this Grendelsek would take the defeat of her plans lightly.
Sander stretches, looking bleary eyed after staying up much of the night comforting his wife and others in the town and preparing should the orcs come back. He rejects any claims of heroism -- he was just doing what anyone would do, because he wasn't going to let the orcs hurt those he loved. Look at everyone else who acted the same way!
"So that explains how he was able to get in here -- but we still don't really know exactly what happened to Rodrik, do we? Or the swords? It's all connected some way, but I don't understand..."
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The Witch looks Quill up and down. "Look'it you, all fired up from your first real battle! Back home, they'd be pouring you a beer... Want to come grab a quick drink with me?"
Quill's eyes widen. His face scrunches up with thought. Torn, he politely refuses.
"No. I can't. There is still too much to do...and I need to find someone. I need to find...a friend."
Marigold! Marigold Pottersmoot! Did you survive!!?
Quill hies to fight other battles and find his crush.
* * *
Quill is busy for the next few days. It's not easy being a hero, but also trying to help rebuild the town was important too. Whatever limited magics he has, he puts toward healing others. Other times, he will continue to fletch like he's never fletched before: the militia would need more arrows if the orcs rebounding more quickly than the town expected.
Quill does make time to bask in his hero-dom, even going so far as to look Marigold directly in the eye before running off with butterflies in his stomach. That was progress for Quill.
Molly does her best in the coming days.
She casts every healing spell she can muster; when those run out, she levels the power of her Healing Hex on anyone who does not object to her eldritch stare.
When she runs out of patients, Molly goes looking for people she knows - especially her cousin Jenk - to make sure they made it through the battle alive and mostly intact.
With all of that and the unriddling of the Orc's tattoos done, Molly purchases a small cask of ale and executes a sneaky plan...
After Quill's duties at the wall, when returning to wherever he bivouacs, he finds Molly waiting for him at his door with a grin and a small cask of ale.
"Hey there, deadeye," she says. "Ready for that drink?"
Regardless how that turns out, Molly meets up with the rest of the group the next day.
"Those swords are still weird," she agrees with Sander. "Hmmm... Did anyone take notes of everything we've found out so far?"
Marigold Pottersnoot weathered the battle with a bit of aplomb, having gained her share of the hero's credit by bashing an orc over the head with a frying pan. She met Quill's gaze wormly when he looked at her, and the spark was there...though the young elf really didn't know what to do with it.
Molly was sorely saddened to hear that her cousin Jenk had died in the attack, one of the several on the curtain wall that had been killed by the saboteurs before the main attack.
---------------
While the main concern was the orc attack, there was still the mystery of the swords, Rodrick's murder, and everything else. It made some sense, what with the sword painted on the hill by the hole the giant opened to the burial chamber. Perhaps, Rodrick simply stumbled upon the saboteur's plot? The clues might fit together, or they might simply lead nowhere...
"I'm thinking... maybe the swords were markers of the Twisted Nails infiltrators' search through Trunau for the entrance to the tomb," Molly muses.
"Hmm. A lot of work went into this attack. Quite impressive... worryingly impressive. We might want to point out to the authorities that this Grenseldek is a keen strategist with patience as well as clout.
Now I get why the hammer was important enough for a giant to go to all this effort, I really do, but what's with the rock? How is it important?"
Molly takes the news of Jenk's death with what looks like stoicism, but she proves very... involved in his burial.
Anyone who tries to cut corners or expedite the process finds themselves subjected to a stream of cursewords and insults fit to turn a dockworker's ears red. The Kellid girl does her best, within her means, to see her cousin buried with all dignity and Kellid tokens of honour. She tries to find out whether Jenk had a girl in the city and takes it upon herself to send a letter to the Blackfoot clan back home and inform Jenk's parents...
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Quill being a lad of pure mind and heart, of course refuses, being a typical teenager is more than willing to forgo the inattentions of his beloved crush (Marigold) to snog with Molly. He will snog like he's never snogged before (mostly, because he hasn't). There is a little more than few instances of misplaced tongues, inadvertent slurps, and unnecessary drool as Quill tries *really hard* at snogging.
He tries nothing more than snogging because, frankly, he's not sure what the next step would be. If the men in the militia barracks are to be listened to, it might involve a rusty trombone and Quill wasn't going to leave Molly to go find one.
All in all, Quill seems to be enjoying his status a 'hero'.
[ooc[Molly, you know that Quill sports an 8 charisma, right? He's no belle of no ball.[/ooc]
* * *
Quill tries (and fails) to keep his cool around Molly. He's just more awkward around her than usual. He tries to pay attention during the meetings, but seems very distracted by something.
"Yeah, why would they attack us just to get rocks? Can't they get rocks, I dunno...everywhere?"
Molly proves to be willing to stick to snogging on this occasion, but she does take the lead after a bit. Before she leaves to get some sleep, Quill will have a better idea of what to do during such events - and the impression that Molly may have further plans for him...
Molly casually adjusts a circle of black cloth around her left arm and smiles impishly whenever Quill acts nervous around her.
It must be because of that map that Mariana found on the other side," Sander notes, not particularly happily.
We probably need to go figure out why, though. Maybe they won't ask me to go. If Louly never finds out ... but no, I can't if she'd be at risk.
Storn spends the next few days plying this trade as a brutal, but efficient medic and enjoying a lot of free drinks. When his magic is exhausted he falls back to strange, tribal remedies which typically involve the genitals, musk, and urine of wild animals nailed to things, hung around the neck, or suspended in a sour broth. He also forcibly puts his patients on a flavourless mush he calls root marm, insisting that without it they will perish in their inevitable battle with a mammoth.
Time not spent healing people is spent chasing the Iomedeans away from this patients. With a reputation as a hero, he can attract a much loftier, less alcoholic clientele.
At the party meeting, Storn arrives looking cheerful and as cleaned-up as he's looked since the festival that kicked off the last, insane, few days.
"I'm not good at figuring things out," says Storn simply. "Weird-eye makes good points here though. Orcs fight like I fight, run at something, say a prayer, and beat it until you can serve it on a cracker. This is the kind of plotting you'd see from something smart and useless like a gnome."
He takes a long swallow from his beer, not bothering to wipe the foam from his beard.
"I think the white swords were used to coordinate the raid. There were saboteurs, a clever murder, and the location of the tomb. But if they wanted this stone so bad why not just sneak in and take it? Why the raid?"
"Sacrifices to Minderhal to prove their worth? For the sheer hell of it? To keep the Orcs happy? Some creatures can't wrap their minds around not killing when they have the chance."
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"Weird-eye makes good points here though. Orcs fight like I fight, run at something, say a prayer, and beat it until you can serve it on a cracker."
Fights like an orc?! He's right, they both yell a lot. Quill nods in agreement.
"I think the white swords were used to coordinate the raid. There were saboteurs, a clever murder, and the location of the tomb. But if they wanted this stone so bad why not just sneak in and take it? Why the raid?"
Quill nods again, agreeing with what they don't know.
"Yeah, it's a stupid rock and a stupid axe. They could have just snuck into the cave and taken the stuff...no need for a raid or an attack at all. It's not like any of us knew about the cave at all," Quill iterates.
Quill shakes his head, confused.
Upon further reflection, both Quill and Storn realized that they came to the hopespring pool because the giant had been sighted there, and that when they arrived, they heard the giant hurling aside rocks and debris. It is likely, then, that the whole purpose of the raid was to get the giant in place to open the tomb. Well, at least a major purpose, anyways.
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Storn discusses the layout with Quill before the realization both hits them.
"Bah, of course! They needed the giant to open the damn tomb." He quiets.
"This must be very important. The tomb, the giant, the mass slaughter - not everyone enjoys it as much as I do. Hrm. Everyone shut up! I need to think."
Storn sits back, thinking. Very. Very slowly. After what seems like ages, he finally speaks.
"Grenseldek of the Twisted Nail tribe really really wants the map and hammer - we think. And she has sympathizers in Trunau - maybe for years. To prepare for the raid she sends this half-orc alchemist to set things up. She also uses that troll-thing we found, Ghaer, to relay information brought by Daktani, that half-orc I killed who kidnapped Othan. Ghaer talked a lot of history and religion - I bet the history in that hammer matters to Grenseldek. That's something orcs don't care about too much.
"So Rodrik is looking into these white swords. It makes sense to me that he just started to learn too much, so the alchemist kills him. The white sword over the tomb means they... uh. Maybe they didn't know where the tomb was, and the swords were for finding the way. Or potential entrances. Maybe the swords don't matter too much."
Having done enough puzzling, Storn takes a draught of his ale.
"What's more important is we still have the gem and hammer and Grenseldek was willing to kill a lot of people to get them. I think we need to follow this map. Otherwise we just leave it in Trunau and the whole town stays at risk."
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"What's more important is we still have the gem and hammer and Grenseldek was willing to kill a lot of people to get them. I think we need to follow this map. Otherwise we just leave it in Trunau and the whole town stays at risk."
Quill, after a few minutes of silent to be sure Storn is done thinking (or when the smell of smoke from Storn's head ceases), speaks up to offer his own thoughts.
"Well, seems like we have three solutions: do what Storn says and engage in an incredibly risky and totally dangerous attempt to follow the map, or two, send the map and axe to Grensuckdel and let them have what they want and leave us alone, or three, destroy them both and so there is nothing more to worry about," Quill says appeasingly.
"I'm just happy to be alive and that Trunau lives. That the community is protected is what's important."
"Artifacts of greater power, gifts from the gods, are not so easily destroyed. Giving Grenseldek what she wants is a recipe for disaster. Didn't the map lead to the hammer and the rock...?"
"I don't think so," Sander says miserably. "The map was on the stone in that giant's eye. I think Quill and Storn are right. We have to follow the map to make sure whatever they were looking for doesn't come back to harm Trunau."
He sighs heavily.
"Does anyone want to go? If there are enough people who want to, maybe ... we don't all need to?"
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"The map was on the stone in that giant's eye. I think Quill and Storn are right. We have to follow the map to make sure whatever they were looking for doesn't come back to harm Trunau."
"But...but...I thought we had many options. I think destroying them would be best. Deny our foes what they want. Without them, our foes won't come back to look for them, right? That would work."
Quill makes his point further.
"If we follow the map, they might come after us after we get whatever is in there. Whomever finds whatever is there might never be safe!"
Mariana had spent so much time examining the hammer and writing notes, then the 'eye', which she had told everyone about...in between her forays into her notebook. It was bad enough that she had to go and buy a second notebook for the work she was doing. She did spend time going over each item they had found and seeing if she could find anything else out about them.
She mulled over the locket several times and eventually brought it before the group..."This item is incomplete, in my mind...since it requires a pair...right? Do we hold on to it in hopes of finding it's mate or just let it go since it seems to have great value?"
She was genuinely unsure about this one item. In the meantime, she continued her studies, hoping to send a few reports about everything that had happened to the Society.
"I think destroying them would be best. Deny our foes what they want. Without them, our foes won't come back to look for them, right? That would work."
"Except Grenseldek won't know we destroyed it and may keep coming after us. Or she may be angry that we destroyed it. Or even worse," Sander says, voice becoming even more morose, "she figures out some other way to get whatever she wants."
Storn sighs at Quill, the sigh of a long-suffering parent who just happens to be eighty years his adopted son's junior, and possessing the intellect of an particularly abrasive cultivar of cabbage.
"Quill, we all come from different walks of life. I come from the far north, where my people punch mammoths to see whose best. It's a simple, much better life, but we're all here and have to deal with subpar mjöður-drink. Wait, that's not it."
He stares ahead blankly.
"Where was I. RIGHT! Before I even talk about following the map..... Mannyara talking about the locket makes me realize the note had something about the gem. Does anyone still have that note? It said something about 'the rock I already have'. Maybe it's a piece of something bigger. Or just the other eye. Maybe we should compare it to an actual map of the mountains, have smart people do more thinking."