You guys turn.
Aedric attempts to trip the giant when it reaches him.
Aedric then spins his Fauchard and attempts to impale the giant's head upon it.
Aedric does not continue his inspiring words, though the courage roused in the hearts of his allies still lingers.
I hope they're impressed by my skills! I knocked a giant down for gods sake.
The trip and the attack are succesful.
Brock kicks the ground, the earth between him and the giant sprouting a rolling scythe of metal that aims to bisect the prone creature from between his legs.
"Die ye giant bastard!"
The giant release a sad cry, and then change it for anger and continue attacking form the ground
You guys turn.
Aedric stabs at it.
Brock launches another rock at the prone giant, a perfectly spherical hunk of black iron.
The thing get massacred Ok, happy now?
a few of the townsfolk observing them curiously, but no one comes to assist you or interferes in any way. You are finally in the camp.
"Blasted giants. Always causing trouble."
Luna starts searching the giants possessions...
Aedric poses heroically with one foot on the giant's chest.
"Well-fought friends. Brock that was incredible. You wield the earth itself! How do you even do that? Dwarf magic?"
"Stone-singer clan specialty. Needs an intense connection to the earth. Not really a dwarf only magic, but most of ye other races lack the love of stone Dwarves have, and the trainin' to make use of it even if ye do.."
There is a snake style to see if Luna avoid the last 24 points of damage.
Giant Gear: chain shirt, +1 keen spiked greatclub, 5 javelins, decanter of endless water.
===========
So, what do you do in the town?
Aedric attempts to sell the greatclub.
"It's magical really! And the size of it means it's got more magic required to make it!"
Luna grabs the decanter.
"Unlimited water might come in handy." she gesticulates in sign language... Aware that her new-found companions won't understand a word she means.
Aedric eyes Runa when she signs.
"Oh! Are you a wizard? Those were some pretty elaborate hand signs. What kind of spell were you casting?"
"Hey!" Brock yells as Runa snatches the decanter.
"Be careful! And hang onto that. That thing might come in handy."
Maybe shes some kind of witch and she was cursing the giant's soul! I heard there were witches hiding out in the desolation... Aedric mentally panics a little.
Luna uses the decanter to splash some water on Brock... Then she writes "My name is Luna. L U N A." on the mud and points at her words. She thinks for a second and adds "And I have more water".
"Woah! You're pretty mad about something huh. What'd you do to Runa, Brock?"
Luna splashes twice as much water on Aedric.
"Oh I see hah! Just testin out the vase huh?" Aedric takes off his helm and shakes his head to get the water off.
"Pretty refreshing!"
Brock splutters as water is tossed in his face, and then gets a nasty look. He waves his hand and all of the mud is flung towards Runa's head.
Luna creates a small river on Brock... Mostly because it at least kills time. And she is convinced Aedric is about as smart as the rocks thrown by the dwarf.
Brock dances around, trying to avoid the river by clinging to rock walls and whatnot, and flinging mud missiles back at Runa.
Aedric sits on the sidelines and is greatly amused.
After all the mud and stuff (and the blood since Luna got 24 point of damage)
The Camp is a sprawling cluster of crude shanties and dilapidated hovels. The standard materials for most of these buildings are pieces of plywood scavenged off of crates and wagons, broken branches and sticks, thatch, sod turves, some fieldstones, and copious amounts of mud. Many of the structures are little more than lean-tos. All are in poor condition due to the laziness and apathy of their current occupants and are held together by little more than spit and good luck.
When you ask around to sell the spiked club the best offer yo can get is 2500 gp or 1800 iron bits, the mercander does advice to trade in Iron bits, You will not be able to buy anything in gold in here.
Aedric agrees and acquires 1800 iron bits!
"Right then. Shall we try to find some work then?"
"Sure. Let's find our employer."
A man hear of you and approach to you
The man before you wears the finely tailored, though travel stained garb, of an official diplomat. The lyre crest on his tunic identifi es his allegiance to Bard’s Gate (A rich city far away to the south). He is middle-aged with only a touch of gray in his hair. The worry lines on his face seem to have deepened recently. He begs your leave to speak with you and ushers you aside to a more private place before explaining.
I am Sammar of Bard’s Gate, recently installed diplomatic agent to the Camp. My masters have elected to reopen the northern trade route through the Desolation, and I have been instructed to set up an embassy here to oversee the city’s interests in such a venture. I arrived here with a caravan some weeks ago and set up facilities to serve in the interim until a caravan route could be successfully established and lucrative trade opened up. My caravan departed north not a week ago to open that route and seek valuable trade with the exotic lands of the north. They are not expected back for several months, but I fear ill fortune has befallen them.
Though the caravan had its own contingent of guardsmen, for added security they hired a band of ogre mercenaries led by a hill giant to safely escort them across the Desolation. The giant leader of that band returned in none-too-good-a-shape and without his ogre warriors, and, well, was killed by you. Anyways, It is too soon for the giant to have escorted the caravan all the way across the Desolation and already returned to the Camp. Therefore, I fear the worst. All I ask is that you search for the lost caravan and return with any survivors or news of its fate if there are none. For this task I can assure you that you
will be richly rewarded by my government. Bard’s Gate is a rich and powerful city with vast wealth from its commerce. It knows how to repay those who give it assistance. Please, will you help me?
"That's what I'm here for." Brock affirms.
"We'll find your caravan, or what's left of it."
"Yes." Aedric gives the man a thumbs up.
Luna nods positively.
Ok, who heals Elune first?
And, are you interested in hiring a guide?
You find that the only religious establishment in the camp is a church of Nergal, an ancient and now largely obscure god of death, it is better if you buy one or two wand of cure light wounds though.
There is a service of ranger's guide, 50 Iron bits per day.
================================
"Let's go talk to one of the rangers. Maybe they know the exact route the caravan took."
You got to collection of crumbling adobe buildings, lean-tos, and tents surround a patch of surprisingly healthy and bountiful garden. The mud-brick adobes are of obviously ancient construction and have many gaps in their walls and roofs covered by stretched animal hides and blankets.
A cartel states "Skeribar’s Ranger Guides"
A pair of dogs were napping in the shades there, but as you approach they raise their hackles and alert the people inside.
A human in his late twenties peeks through the window, "yah?"