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”Ogres, ye say? Well lads n’ lasses, I’d say we could use a wee workout.” For ease of use while traveling he used the enchantment on his hammer to change it’s shape into being a metal band that circled around his right arm. At the thought of killing ogres the Glamered Weapon flowed from his arm and took it’s natural shape as a large two handed warhammer.
”So laddie. Where’d yon Giant-Kin go?”
The farmer's eyes go wide with the display and he points to a trail leading away from his broken fence.
It's not long before Drazh tracks down the group of five ogres with sacks of loot and sheep under their arms.
Drazh
Marten
Anneka
Ferocia
Ogre
Creydon
Azalia
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When he heard that the were going to face the ogres, Marten subconsciously tightened the straps on the small round shield fastened to his forearm. The buckler seemed too lightweight to be very effective, but memories of Ilia's swords repeatedly darting in and out of Marten's abdomen drove him to take the advice of The Acadamae's head artificer.
When they spotted the ogres, Marten dismounted his summoned stagecoach and followed Drazh onto the field.
"Tsk. You don't have to taunt them before you kill them, Drazh. It's crude."
Then he casts scorching ray at the nearest ogre.
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Ferocia bares her claws and hustles into the fight, double moving.
Suddenly there's a rusting in the sack of ashes hooked onto her belt. The rustling turns to a rumbling, then a violent jerking back and forth. Ferocia staggers in surprise, coming to a halt. She puts a hand to the sack only to have a rush of bright blue magical energy explode out of her bag. The blue light launches into the sky, circles twice at a rapid pace, then comes crashing back down to Ferocia, bobbing in the air at her side.
The light dims, revealing a rather large raven. It looks similar to the ones that perished last week. ...But bigger.
Ferocia cocks her head at the bird, sticks a hand into her ash sack, and finds... nothing.
No ashes. No remains.
Just a big, freakin' bird.
"..."
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The raven, black feathers shimmering blue in the light, hovers by Ferocia. It looks at her and lets out a loud "CAW!"
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Ferocia smiles.
Drazh stride forward with pure confidence. ”Oi! Uglies! My hammer wants to meet yer face!”
When he heard that the were going to face the ogres, Marten subconsciously tightened the straps on the small round shield fastened to his forearm. The buckler seemed too lightweight to be very effective, but memories of Ilia's swords repeatedly darting in and out of Marten's abdomen drove him to take the advice of The Acadamae's head artificer.
When they spotted the ogres, Marten dismounted his summoned stagecoach and followed Drazh onto the field.
"Tsk. You don't have to taunt them before you kill them, Drazh. It's crude."
Anneka moves up beside Marten and casts Blessing of Fervor
Ferocia bares her claws and hustles into the fight, double moving.
Suddenly there's a rusting in the sack of ashes hooked onto her belt. The rustling turns to a rumbling, then a violent jerking back and forth. Ferocia staggers in surprise, coming to a halt. She puts a hand to the sack only to have a rush of bright blue magical energy explode out of her bag. The blue light launches into the sky, circles twice at a rapid pace, then comes crashing back down to Ferocia, bobbing in the air at her side.
The light dims, revealing a rather large raven. It looks similar to the ones that perished last week. ...But bigger.
Ferocia cocks her head at the bird, sticks a hand into her ash sack, and finds... nothing.
No ashes. No remains.
Just a big, freakin' bird.
"..."
The raven, black feathers shimmering blue in the light, hovers by Ferocia. It looks at her and lets out a loud "CAW!"
The Ogre Marten shot looks over his shoulder glowering. "Looks like we've got some trouble makers boys." The ogres put down the sheep and ill gotten gains before moving forward and drawing their ogre hooks.
Creydon
Azalia
Drazh
Marten
Anneka
Ferocia
Ogre Red -38
Creydon jogs up next to Drazh and yells the traditional battlecry back to the party of:
"HIT THE BIG ONES!"
Azalia shoots at Black.
(acid/fire)
(acid/fire)
(acid/fire)
”Bah! They’re only purpose in life is to die by me hammer. Who gives a flying-fook about their feelings?”
"Who's feelings? Oh, them! No, I was thinking more of appearances."
Marten sends five bolts of force at the next ogre.
Ferocia gives a whistle, then races forward, sprouting black fur and growing in size until she's a massive bear! She swipes a paw at the black ogre.
Ferocia lets out a loud ROAR!
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The bird lets out a CAW in response and flies at the black ogre, pecking it at it with its beak!
As Creydon jogs up, his fine cloak is caught by a stray breeze and lifts somewhat, giving a better view of his finely reworked mithril breastplate. It is decorated with motifs of prosperity, plenty, and generosity, including helping hands, cornucopias, and flourishing plants.
This is partly to inspire others, and partly to remind the wearer of where he came from - and what he lost.
As Creydon jogs up, his fine cloak is caught by a stray breeze and lifts somewhat, giving a better view of his finely reworked mithril breastplate. It is decorated with motifs of prosperity, plenty, and generosity, including helping hands, cornucopias, and flourishing plants.
This is partly to inspire others, and partly to remind the wearer of where he came from - and what he lost.
Azalia shoots at the ogre.
”Bah! They’re only purpose in life is to die by me hammer. Who gives a flying-fook about their feelings?” He strode over to the already wounded ogre and slammed his hammer into the foe’s gut.
"Who's feelings? Oh, them! No, I was thinking more of appearances."
Marten sends five bolts of force at the next black ogre.
Anneka moves over and casts shield other on Ferocia.
Ferocia gives a whistle, then races forward, sprouting black fur and growing in size until she's a massive bear! She swipes a paw at the black ogre. (Shifter's rush).
Attack: 1d20 + 19 + 2 + 2 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 19 + 2 + 2 + 1 - 4 = 25
Magic Slashing Cold Iron Silver Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 2 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 7 + 2 + 8 = 25
Taking the AC bonus from blessing of fervour, but she charged so her AC is two lower, which leaves it unchanged this round.
Ferocia lets out a loud ROAR!
The bird lets out a CAW in response and flies at the black ogre, pecking it at it with its beak!
The ogres seem a bit shocked one of them went down so easily but begin taking out their confusion on our heroes. The surviving one closest to your group can't land a blow on Drazh but two others charge forward to his Ferocia. The final ogre obviously has more cunning ideas and starts slinking around the boulder to the north.
The sheep panic and run from the fight.
Creydon
Azalia
Drazh
Marten
Anneka
Ferocia
Ogre Black -58
Creydon keeps jogging, doing his best to keep up with the dwarven front line.
And he sings throughout, urging them on!
Azalia shoots at Orange.
(inspire, point-blank, rapid shot)
(blessing of fervor)
(acid/fire)
With a snort Ferocia activates her chimeric aspects and stomps over a few feet . Then she tears into the ogres with her claws and teeth.
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And her bird packs at the yellow ogre!
Creydon keeps jogging, doing his best to keep up with the dwarven front line.
And he sings throughout, urging them on!
Azalia shoots at Orange.
Drazh smiled as he parried, dodged..and counter attacked putting down his attacker before moving down to the next one after taking a step forward... and then hammering that one to a pulp.
Marten spares his more powerful magic but decides to thwart the ogre who thinks he is clever.
With a snort Ferocia activates her chimeric aspects and stomps over a few feet. Then she tears into the ogres with her claws and teeth.
The last ogre flails about unable to find firm footing thanks to Marten...
Ogre Hook +1 x5
Hide Armor +1 x5
Masterwork Composite Long Bow (+7 Str) x5
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"That makes sense. I can play sheep herd a little.", replies Creydon as he zips around with Anneka's lingering magic, trying to get the sheep in order.
Azalia likes Drazh's suggestion, going to loot the bodies.
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The farmer reclaims his sheep from ye with thanks but that's about it.
A little more investigation of where they were heading turns up where they had left some items while rustling sheep.
Chest filled with 6,000 sp
Three barrels of fine brandy worth 400 gp each (each barrel weighs 300 pounds)
"Decent booze! Yes!"
”I thought we were in a hurry,” Marten says absently, even as he inspects the brandy with a snifter or two.
"We can leave the bulk of it here, and try to pick itin a cart after this giant business is settled." , Creydon offers.
Ferocia snarls and growls at the big bird for a while, which crows and caws back at her. Their strange 'conversation' continues like this for a while. Eventually the bear shrinks back down into a smiling Ferocia. She gives the bird a pat on the head and seems distracted -- for the moment -- in enjoying the company of her giant raven.
Her complaints over the stupidity of carrying around massive casks of booze will have to wait for another time...
”I’d ask her how the bird... is, but it might just turn her surly again, so my professional curiosity will have to wait.”
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As our heroes head toward the Storval Plateau, there are signs of giant activity increasing. Even Drazh has to accept chasing down every hill giant and ogre isn't dealing with the problem... though a few easy quick diversions help sooth his thirst for vengeance a little.
Although the giants seem to be avoiding direct confrontations with settlements bar Sandpoint, they have attacked many caravans and lone hunters they encountered along the road. These battle sites should bespeak a terrible fury, littered with shattered stones and pulped bodies left for the scavengers after every bit of valuable loot had been stripped away.
On another day you come across an enormous campsite. At the center, a campfire made of tree trunks sits in a ring of boulders, the mostly eaten carcass of a roasted fourteen-foot-long aurochs in the ashes.
Although the giants are strong, there are monsters like wyverns, manticores, and flame drakes... such a large number of giants roving around has attracked their attention. You could come across a cairn of stones under which the body of a slain stone giant has been laid to rest.
Stopping at any town along the way, you can hear all manner of horror stories. Every third person seems to have either sighted a giant in the last few days or knows someone who has, and of these, at least half can tell stories of a friend or acquaintance who’s gone missing. In almost every case, the missing folks are merchants, soldiers, hunters, or travelers, and it’s feared they’ve been caught and killed by the giants...
Easily or not, chasing down every giant seems to be a fools errand. The Storval Plateau looms on the horizon and beyond that in the Cinderlands Jorgenfist!
Angered by the devastation, Creydon tries to help where he can. He has a little healing and more music. But the source of these woes is elsewhere.
"How far are we from Jorgenfist? Let's press the overgrown brutes where it hurts!"
Your trip takes you back through Turtleback Ferry and although you know the way to the ancient dam from your previous adventure you know this would leave you on the wrong side of the Iron peaks (in which the Hook Mountain lies) where it seems an age ago you tested your metal against that most vile of ogre clans... and they were found wanting.
As you move south beneath it's shadow through dirt paths and game trails you approach the next step on your journey to reach the Storval Rise will take you up the Storval Stairs. The looming cliffs that seperate those rugged stony scrublands in the plateau towards the lands of giants and barbarians (both Shoanti and Orcish!) with an unmistakable boundary. As you pass beneath it and gaze upwards you can see it often reaches heights of a thousand feet or more in height.
The Storval Stairs however is much easier than trying to climb it. The cliffs are only four hundred feet high with a large empty ruin at it's top. Each step is two foot high as it rises. The stairs are flanked by two statues, the southern one has begun to crumble and erode but seems like it would have been identical to the other featuring a robe figure wielding a glaive, finely crafted it is imperious and conveys power.
You're aware that trolls and harpies often vie for control of the stairs as it provides a stream of weaker creatures to prey upon.
As you make any preparations it occurs to you the raid on Sandpoint may have come this way though if it did they ignored Ravenmoor, Wolf's Ear and Galduria. When next they come they may not and other settlements like Turtleback Ferry and Roderic's Cove may also feel their wrath... perhaps even mighty Magnimar and Riddleport will suffer at the organised giants.
We don't have to bother with this climbing stuff, do we? I can cast fly on 5 of us, and Ferocia can just turn into something that flies, right?
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"I for one would *love* to fly."
"Of course," Ferocia replies. A moment later she sprouts feathers, turning into a big owl, and takes to the skies alongside her giant raven.
Shortening your journey by several days your group ascends the Storval Rise through mystical means.
Journeying through the paths of the Iron Peaks over the next several days you note tracks of giants and bears in increasing regularity as well as having a few brief bloody run ins. The groups are small and equipped for only a few days travel.
The mountains give way here to a wide valley perched on the upper edge of a cliff overlooking the Muschkal River. At the western edge of the
valley entrance, a lone watchtower stands upon a low hill, but this structure is overshadowed by the larger one that looms in the valley proper. Here stands a ring-shaped stone wall, fifty feet in height and surrounding several buildings, the most impressive of which is a looming black tower with blade like crenellations that overlooks the river gorge. Within the ring, a one-hundred-fifty-foot tall stone spire rises, surrounded by three low buildings. Apart from the black tower, five smaller towers are built into the fortress wall—one of these towers is wider than the others and seems to be the only gateway into the courtyard within.
Outside this large structure are several camps, cooking fires send smoke up into the air and even at this distance you can tell the figures are much larger than any man or dwarf.
You notice an elevated entrance to a cave on the North Eastern side of this valley, about fifty foot of sheer rock seperate it from more reasonable footing.
Creydon peers ahead. And up.
"Yup. They're big ones alright."
His eyes roam, and then he adds:
"Look at the north east of the valley. An entrance! Fifty feet from solid footing, but we can get around that, right?"
When they get closer, Azalia conjures her Arcane Eye up near the entrance to the cave in order to scout it out and avoid surprises.
Anneka had been quiet much of the way. The revelations concerning giant-kind have been disconcerting, to say the least.
She stands behind the others, dressed in her newfound Korvosan fashions, a dark riding crop with hidden corset that has left her suffering in the sun of the Storval, though it protects her well from the unforgiving sun. It was nothing a minor charm couldn't fix.
But the heat itself is no match for the deeply unsettled feeling that Jorgenfist instills.
"To the cave," she agrees, looking forward to a bit of shade.
Unable to see the entrance, Ferocia waits for someone else to lead the way.