In an inn just outside of the Hold of Belkzen, you speak to the aged dwarf as he throws back another large tankard of ale.
"Aye, the giants slaughtered as many dwarves as they could. I blame the Chelaxians, for they surely put the giants up to it, but I could just as easily blame dwarven pride and arrogance. Wrapped up in the power struggles of human nations, we dwarves found out that we were the manipulated and not the ones doing the manipulating."
He laughs as he remembers something funny: "King Noscan thought he was honeydicking the humans, but in the end, it was King Noscan who was honeydicked. And more dwarven blood was spilled in two weeks than I have drank in ale over my lifetime."
He gets a sober look and stares. "I will take you to Trunau in Belkzen where you may get into trouble, but it will be a good kind of trouble."
Ogden listens, but seems more pre-occupied with picking a fly from his tankard. After a bit of fishing he manages to remove the offending ingredient and takes a steady swig of the ale. He glances at Boram, then at Stonecrusher, his brow furrowed.
"Trunau, that be a human settlement alright." He frowns, "Never did like trading with them. Something untrustworthy 'bout a man so tall ye can't meet his gaze proper."
He studies a worn book in his hand, then scribbles a note on its dry pages with his quill, a small practical pen meant for travel.
Humans. If'n I never have to see a human again would be too soon. Smarmy fellows. Ah well, not my decision, and this giant problem needs ta be dealt with once and for all. Ain't something them humans will be doing, at least satisfactorily. Rather bring the caravan down and get some of the gold they have, but they are right - "Too risky." Ogden mutters into his ale.
Yarask listens while stonecrusher tells his tale, and the others add theirs. When they are finisjhed he interjects, speaking in a low, somber tone:"I come from Trunau. It's a nice place. Decent people there. People who know about the value of community and willing to give their lives for it. And there are orcs in need of killing, of course. It's a good place, one worth defending. You'll be welcome to... as long as you do your part"
Augier is in the corner of the inn, since he tends to be unwelcome in spots where many people gather. Sipping his ale and poking at his stew, he hears the storyteller speak and thinks, Sounds like a good place to start over. Too many old faces who think I can't hack it, maybe these humans will have need of a second-rate wizard.
Having already drunk quite a bit tonight, Dvalin just stood near the bar, while observing the others supposed to join this trek carefully.
If things went bad, he might find his survival depending on any of these people he knew nothing about. Not the most comforting thought to have, and that story-tellers tales about dwarf blood being spilled didn't help with that. Not that he was afraid, but Dvalin had seen enough Dwarf Blood spilled in his life, for his taste, and he especially would prefer not seeing his own blood spilled in too large quantities. And what was worse than that foul contemplating mood: he was all out of drink.
"I'll have me another tankard!" he told the publican as he passed by. "Half-drunk is a waste of coin, so break out the strong stuff if ya please. I reckon with the kind of guests ya have today, there'll be no regrets. Us folk drink a lot and sober up fast."
A smile comes over Tegnar's face as he finishes his ale and slams it on the table. "I for one like trouble. Especially if it involves me using my axe on an orc or giant. When do we leave?"
This was just the type of action he was hoping for when he joined the caravan into Belkzen. The chance to hone his fighting skills while earning some coin to better his equipment.
A voice comes out of the dark corner followed by a dusty dwarf, "I'll join your caravan to Trunau. It's the last leg of my circuit and a caravan is more likely to attract trouble than a lone dwarf. It's been too long since I've gotten to crack an orc or giant skull. The name's Dolgrym of clan Giantfoe."
The dwarf continues his history lesson:
"So I hail from the Menador Mountains in Avistan. My clan, The Mountainblood Clan, became ambitious, and rather than be withdrawn and reclusive, they traded with the government of Molthune and became wealthy and powerful. Although many of the clan advised against becoming too tight with the Lords of Molthune, King Noscan became tempted by promises of wealth and glory. He made the mistake of running afoul of powerful foes in Cheliax in his entangling alliance."
He spits on the floor and holds a symbol of Torag tightly as he continues:
"The diabolical Chelaxians sent a pair of rune giants upon the Mountainblood Clan. The wholesale slaughter of the clan took less than three days, and I was the only survivor."
He adds: "A clanless, penniless dwarf, I sought refuge in the court of Molthune. Without prospects, the Lords of Molthune sent me away without acknowledging any culpability in the massacre of my people. It has taken some time, but I have called for those I have seen Torag point out to me in my dreams. That would be you!!"
"A tide of giants is coming!! I need to pull a new clan together with a new purpose. We will remember those who give us succor and those who seek to thwart us!! I seek those to join the Ninth Battalion, and if proven worthy, can visit Earth Axle and behold its glory."
Augier thumps his mug on the table. Hear, hear! I'll sign up. Sounds like a good cause.
Fafnir joins the Dwarf in the corner in thumping his empty mug on the table. "Hear hear!"
He could relate to THAT story, having been orphaned by Giants at a young age. An uncle with military experience had taken him in back then, and Fafnir had spent all his life training in hopes of joining any expedition that would go against those humanoid beasts.
He had waited long for such a chance as this, and yet, felt strangely calm about it.
When his new tankard arrived, he raises it: "To a new clan! To Torag! And Death to the Giants!" With these words, he spits on the floor, then drains half the tankard in a long gulp.
As Rock Stonecrusher finishes his tale Yarask feels his blood begin to boil and red mist clouding his vision:"And horde of giants? Meant for Trunau? NO! Let them come! I will slay them all for what they did! Let them come...". For a moment the dwarf seems lost to rage and threatens to explode in sudden violence. Then he reins himself in and stops, normalizing his breath and focusing his sight and mind:"Not now, not here... but soon... soon I shall taste their blood... this I swear!"
Then, without a word, Yarask gets a mug of ale and raises it high in the air, then mutters:"To all that. And to being worthy of vengance and the honor that comes with it!"
Ogden nods slowly, writings in his book as he does so. After he is finished taking some notes, he puts the book back on its cord at his belt, and replies to the clanless dwarf, "I anticipated th' giants coming. I, Ogden, son of Durden, of the clan Greyhammer, have sworn to assist those who would right past wrongs that their kind has visited upon our people. T'would be an honor to join your cause, as me father would have done."
He holds up his hands, slightly mangled-looking and completely covered in scars, "Let us not forget the crimes of the enemies of our kind and take the debt owed to us in blood."
He stands and fastidiously cleans the crumbs from his garments and his place at the table, taking his tankard to the bar.
"Let me prepare myself for this journey. Should make haste. The more time chattering, the less time we have ta prepare once we arrive. I will tell me caravan to depart for home without me, after I conclude the business we came for."
Tegnar gets caught up in Rock's story, so much so that he doesn't even notice the fresh mug of ale placed in front of him. Adrenaline begins to pump through his veins as he imagines himself striking down giants with his father's waraxe to avenge his death. He nods his head in agreement as the others speak.
"It seems many of us have suffered at the hands of giants as I too lost my parents to an attack. I have been preparing for an opportunity to exact revenge and now I have found it. Count me in," as he raises his mug and takes a long swig.
Adrian catches Ogden on the way back to the bar. Nodding to the far table, he asks, "So, what was all that about?"
As Ogden brings him up to speed, he tugs on his mustache with his free hand, the other being occupied with a cup of something that smells suspiciously like tea. "Hmm. Well, I'll say there's a difference between tall people and giants. If we can get released from our caravan agreement, I'll be happy to lend a hand. Your people have done a lot for me; it's time to return the favor."
"If a wave of giants is coming, Count me in on stopping them!"
Finally! A chance to seriously hurt the giants!
Ogden listens to Adrian and nods, "Will speak ta the caravan master for ya. Should be no problem without us on the last leg o' the journey. Glad to have ye join us. Send for me if'n ye start out before I get back."
With that he heads off to tie up the loose ends with the caravan, finish his business and tidy up his belongings, since he was not prepared to travel again so soon.
Rock nods and says: "It is now time to follow your path. We will leave for Trunau at first light. I have booked rooms for you in the inn, you will be double billeted. One of the hobbits can bunk with me."
You leave the next morning for Trunau, and upon arriving closer to evening, find the town is all gathered together.
Jubilation fills the evening air in the normally staid town of
Trunau, for it is the twelfth birthday of the Chief Defender’s
youngest daughter, Ruby, and the townsfolk have been
preparing all day for the ceremony and festivities to follow.
A throng of spectators has amassed at the town Commons;
the buzz of the crowd subsides as the weathered town leader,
Halgra of the Blackened Blades, takes the stage and begins
to speak.
“Thank you all for joining us this night. I take immense pride
in my responsibility as Chief Defender, especially when it comes
to the honor of the hopeknife ceremony. It is always a great
privilege to bequeath Trunauan youths their hopeknives as they
come of age.” Halgra stops speaking long enough to open an
ornamental case and retrieve a slender, ornately decorated
dagger hanging from a silver chain. “But tonight is a special
occasion, for the recipient of this hopeknife is none other than
my youngest daughter.” Once again, Halgra pauses,
but this time she turns to talk to the child beside her.
“Ruby, by the traditions of our town, you have
come of age. This hopeknife represents your
responsibilities as an adult and defender of Trunau.
You must be willing to use it on yourself, your fellow
Trunauans, and your family—even me, should it
come to that. It will be a far quicker death than that
which the orcs will offer, and providing it is your duty.
Do you swear to guard Trunau from all comers, and
to use your hopeknife only for its intended
purpose?” Ruby—dusky skinned, black
haired, and painfully shy—nods her head
in response to her mother’s question.
“If the orcs come, and there is no other
option, this is where you cut—here, here,
and here.” Halgra demonstrates which
arteries to sever while Ruby watches.
When she is finished, Halgra sheathes
the hopeknife and places the necklace
around Ruby’s neck before turning back to
address the crowd.
“Tonight, Ruby becomes a full member of our community!
Let us welcome her, and celebrate her passage into adulthood!
Trunau forever!” The crowd echoes Halgra’s last words in unison,
signaling the end of the ceremony.
Halgra nods to his daughter. "Time to pick your team for the feats of strength." Ruby indicates the new arrivals, six dwarves and two hobbits. The young woman is motioning you to join her in a game of tug of war with eight burly men in the militia, two of them quite large.
Augier enjoys the sights and sounds of the festival, even though he seems to have a clear area around him whenever he enters the crowd.
Perhaps I can bottle my smell and sell it as people repellant. He thinks as he eventually wanders over to watch the Hopeknife ceremony.
A grim responsibility. Augier thinks and notices that he is being chosen for tug-of-war. Well, if there is one thing a dwarf can do, it is stay on his feet while on the ground He heads over to his place at the ropes.
The limited socialization before the festival revealed some information.
The following spoilers can be unlocked with EITHER your diplomacy (gather info) OR a knowledge local roll. One roll can unlock all that apply
symbol. To Trunauans, earning your hopeknife is
a mark of your place in the community. When you
earn your hopeknife, it means you are wise enough
to make adult decisions, old enough to know what
it means to fear, and strong enough to protect your
neighbors, even if it costs you your own life.”
Ruby has to pledge to uphold the Standing Vow in
order to receive her hopeknife, just like the rest
of us. She must agree to hold Trunau against all
comers and to never forfeit her homeland willingly.
That is the Vow.”
the position of patrol leader after his old man Jagrin
retires. Jagrin’s a good commander, but he’s getting
old, and it might be time for some new blood in the
militia’s leadership.”
got better things to do than clean up youngsters’
messes, but even stranger is how long it lasts. Try
as one might, soap and water don’t do a thing to
those marks!”
Other Side of Contempt’? He’s our own home-grown
writer. It’s a controversial poem, but that’s what
makes Rodrik’s writing so strong—he’s not afraid to
push limits.”
leader, but from what I hear, he’s more concerned
with his poems and plays than with militia matters.
He’s diligent, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not quite
sure either of the Grath boys is ready to lead the
town’s defense.”
Augier knows all and sees all. Poems? Huh, might be worth checking into.
Odd graffiti, eh? I wonder if some enterprising young magician is coming into their own, thinks Adrian.
He tracks down Aggghhh to point it own, likely only to find the dwarf having already noted the issue and filed it away for later concern.
Aghh nods when Adrian talks about it. Aye, I can try to have a look see and determine if there is magic about it.
Having gathered in the ampitheatre in the middle of town (Section A on the map of Trunau at the top of the page), the dwarves and hobbits have been chosen by Ruby to participate in the tug of war.
"We'll do it, by Torag's beard. Come an pull for the lady my ladies."
As you pull against the hefty boys in the town militia, it becomes clear that they are pulling you across the line. With three quick pulls they have you scrambling to avoid being yanked off your fight as Ruby barely hands on. At that point the large humans begin to falter before they pull you across the line. Recovering as Rock curses at you, you find momentum on your side, and pull the rope completely to your side.
[dice=Sense Motive DC 14]The militia threw the contest, only wishing to make it close.[/spoiler]
Auiger huffs and puffs, no doubt to the great dismay of everyone he is teamed with.
Also getting to a prominent position at the rope, Dvalin pulls with all his strenght. Never let down a lady who believes in you.
Dolgrym picks up the rope and pulls with the others and is surprised by their sudden victory.
We are stronger as a group than I expected. We won for the girl.
Ogden does not appear thrilled but has several humans approaching him to volunteer idle chatter. Amid the small talk Ogden learns of and makes mental note of the forthcoming patrol guard and the graffiti. He does not appear amused at being made into a spectacle for human amusement, but refuses to disappoint his dwarven comrades.
Not being the strongest among dwarves, Ogden barks out tips on stance and leverage as he does so. (Guidance for +1 on Ogden's first roll)
Ogden furrows his brow, but does not comment on the humans throwing the fight. Always knew these humans were untrustworthy. Musta been ordered to do it, to get something out of us. Typical human trick pre-negotiation... Stroke the ego and then try for a good deal. Picked the wrong dwarf to stroke, yessir they did.
"It seems much has happened while I was away" says Yarask while preparing to pull on the rope.
Yarask laughs as the dwarves manage to pull a victory out of what seemed like certain defeat:"Well done. For a moment I thought it was lost but I guess dwarven resilience won the day..."
Yarask nods at Boram's words:"Yes... and I'll buy one for the humans. They deserve it.... they almost had us there... fortunately "almost" never won a pulling contest!"
A drink sounds good after working up a sweat. Augier mops his brow. He then starts looking for said pub with the others.
Tegnar watches the ceremony, enjoying the festivities and is impressed by the solidarity of the town. He is surprised when the young woman chooses the group to represent her. They must be testing us to see what we are made of.
"Come on boys, the lady needs our help. Let's show them we are a force to recon with." He then takes a position at the front of the line facing the humans.
Tegnar pulls with all his strength but gets concerned about the group's ability to defeat the larger team as they start to get pulled over. Digging in his heels, he strains further. When they prevail, a short chuckle escapes his lips.
He shakes the hands of his companions. "Well done. We make a good team." He then does the same to the opponents. "Wouldn't want to spoil the lady's day of honor now would we," he says with a wink and a grin to the largest of them.
Having won the Tug-of-War with his future clanmates, fully convinced it was their strenght and dwarven sturdyness that won the day, and after a round of verbal high-fives among the participants, Dvalin approaches Ruby:
"Aye, lass, you've come of age now. What do you say to joining all of us over a nice celebratory keg of ale?"
Then he turns to the others:
"Now, I don't know about the lot of you, but this kind of physical activity makes me thirsty! And I heard the honorary dwarf over there wants to spring for the first round, so what are we waiting for?"
Adrian dusts his hands off after the win, content to tag along with the group and keep his eyes peeled. His only contribution was to congratulate the young lady on her win, remarking to Tegnar afterwards, "I'm glad that worked out for her. If the town needed a win that badly, how rough off must they be?"
Kurst and Rodrik Grath, the two burly men, settle down to have a round of drinks with the dwarves. They seem to be sharing a secret as they mention: "It is almost unfair, with your lower frames, it must make it quite easy to pull us off our feet. Well done!!"
Ruby is proud of her performance, and thanks you all for helping her shine in her moment. Chief Defender Halgra gives you all a hearty handshake, and welcomes you to town. After a quick conversation, Rock has secured lodging at Cham Larringfass' Inn, the Rumblehouse.
As you talk to Rodrik, you find out he is quite important, and a few town ladies have him autograph a copy of some play that appears to be a love story.
"Indeed... But only if the pen is very sharp and the sword broken" says Yarask just before gulping down a whole keg.
I heard that there is some mischief going on with a vandal throwing graffiti around that can't be washed off. What say we go check it out? A little public service never hurt anyone.
"I'm sure that can wait until morning, Aggghhh. We have had a long day of travel. Let's have a drink and enjoy the company of our new friends," Tegnar says as he raises his mug towards Kurst and Rodrik.
"What do you two know of the graffiti? Any idea who might be responsible for it?"
Dvalin, sitting next to Rodrik, turns towards him:
"Ah, Rodrik, those books they had you sign, was that copies of ‘The Other Side of Contempt’?"
Dvalin drains the rest of his mug before signalling the waitress for another:
"With all them girls coming up to get autographs from you, I reckon I choose the wrong job after all risking my life out there." Dvalin laughs about it, no matter if Rodrik feels inclined to joke about it, too.
"Bah... graffiti never hurt anyone... orcs on the other hand are a completely different story. And giants a much worse one..." mutters Yarask while deeply contemplating his second mug
Ogden listens, not having much to say about the human's book, but at least has interest in the graffiti, nodding when Tegnar asks about it. "Aye, what is that about?" And what's the trouble we heard comin' to the town? Orcs?"
"Giants are bad, but I think this towns problems lie more with orcs. Any news on their intentions?", he says as he looks at the two humans.
"I'd imagine orcs are more of a worry, too, given how fecund they are. Giants have the decency not to breed like rabbits, at least."