"May I remind you that over the span of perhaps ten minutes we have killed no less than seven people - two of them by your own hand - all of whom possessed those same attributes? "
At this, the Naiad's eyes widen and she gives the Tiefling an incredulous look. "I-! Wh-! Are you serious?" she whispers intently. "*We* are fighting in self-defense, *they* are hired killers! What do you think he'll do if we let him go?"
But seeing both the warriors with the group wanting to forgive the giant assassin for his many murders here, Phoebe stands by as someone else tends to Jurgrindor's wounds. She clearly wasn't happy at the thought of letting someone like him to free, but knew she was powerless to do anything on her own.
Roots-Sink-Deep seems both intrigued by allowing the Frost giant his freedom for pertinent information and disgusted by it. The small, but proud Root leshy stands tall.
I say we allow Nature to decide.
The Druid Strides right up to the battered and bruised Frost giant. The 3' tall Hunter for Erastil's blue eyes state up at the currently satiated brute.
Tell us who you are working for and we escort you outside of town. Never to return.
Roots begins tracing symbols in the floor with the blood spilled and sticky from the giant's many wounds.
He smiles at him.
Or Erastil takes your head as a trophy. Your choice.
Jurgindor gestures heavily towards the door leading into the guest wing. "The ones in black, with the painted tears. Their leader hired us."
Roots frowns up at the much larger Frost giant.
Any names you know connected will be much appreciated.
Roots looks at the rest of the group.
Anyone think his answer is good enough to allow to live....errr...leave?
"It is probably all he knows," says Halrod. "There is enough death here. Let him go."
Lani approaches the giant confidently, healing supplies in hand, making casual comments to try and diffuse the tension. She spends a few minutes binding the worst of the wounds, enough that he no longer looks like he's about to keep over.
Heaving a deep sigh of relief, Jurgrindor rubs his left arm - where his worst injury had been. "Thank you. My clan kicked me out, I vas too small." Towering over everyone else at almost 10 feet tall, 'small' is not perhaps a descriptor that comes to mind when looking at him, but obviously his clan must have thought otherwise. "Human man hired us. Nishkiv is his name. Vanted us to help attack this house and kill everyone inside." He shrugs one shoulder, nodding his head towards an opening in the wall to the north. "I caught some alive. Vas going to ransom them later." He gives everyone another wary look, then shuffles away from the double doors. "I vill go. Vatch out for my brothers. Thurvulf and Vragnar."
Even with Lani's healing, he does not look in fighting shape, and it will be a long while until he fully recovers from his injuries.
Roots nods solemnly at Halrod. The 3' tall Root leshy stands aside, allowing the giant to pass.
Nishkiv. And two bigger Frost giants named Thurvulf and Vragnar.
The Druid looks ready to find all three!
Nidintu nods at the frost giant. "You have told us what you know, and it is only fair that we allow you to leave in exchange. Go in peace." The tiefling's words are innocuous, but his tone suggests a subtle threat if Jurgrindor should fail to leave peacefully. He moves towards the opening to the north, hoping to find the captives the giant spoke of.
Phoebe watches the giant go, fully expecting him to turn on them at a moment's notice. When he doesn't and disappears from sight, she breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay... let's go and rescue those hostages, assuming they live. We was- ... spent a lot of time helping him back up."
Roots decided to Refocus while Lani tended the giant.
Best be ready!
"Ready and able," Lani reports, washing her hands with her waterskin after tending to the giant's wounds. Her familiar, Glitterbloom, chirps an affirmative as well.
The northern room is a pantry, its walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves loaded with provisions - various salted meats, hard cheese, sacks of grain and flour, potatoes and other root vegetables. Twelve barrels sit against the west wall.
In the middle of the floor there are three recognizable figures lying in a tangled heap, bruised, battered, and unconscious. Amiri is wearing her hide and furs, but it seems that neither Harrim nor Valerie had time to don their armour, and are currently wearing their nightclothes. Their weapons, as well as Valerie's shield, have been kicked aside - well out of their reach.
Roots rushes ridiculously reliably into the room!
We are here!
The Root leshy begins untying, unbinding, unbeing sacks of flour them!
As soon as Nidintu sees the unconscious forms of Amiri, Harrim, and Valerie, he rushes to them, attempting to check his friends' pulse and do what he can to aid them. His enthusiasm is honest, but it quickly becomes clear that he has no idea what he is actually doing, and he eventually pulls out one of the healing potions the fae pack had recovered. The warrior looks up wordlessly at Phoebe and Halrod, his expression silently asking permission to use the valuable healing potions on the battered adventurers.
Halrod, bow at the ready, clears the corners and doorways as he sweeps towards the rooms with Jurgindor's victims. He is startled to find Amiri, Harrim and Valerie here, mute testament to the giant's strength and surprise.
Kneeling beside Nidintu-Bel, he ascertains that each is alive, then nods at Nidintu's unasked question. "As we start, so shall we carry on. If we are not to create a miser kingdom amid the wastes, so we should share what we have with those in need. Use them if you have them."
He almost said "with those of like mind," thinking of Amiri and Valerie, but he is not so sure that any of the the three truly share his vision of a realm founded on a balance of the River Freedoms, just laws and the wisdom of Nature.
Amiri awakens with a gasp, trying to scramble to her feet, reaching for her sword and finding nothing. A string of curses and imprecations bursts from the wild warrior. "Where's that bastard giant?! I'll rip his beard off! I'll cut his..."
"Amiri, please calm down. It was your recklessness that landed us in this situation in the first place," Valerie interrupts as she methodically checks herself for injuries, then rises to search for her weapon and shield, while Amiri balls up her fists and sputters.
Harrim's reaction is only a deep groan. The morose dwarf sits up laboriously, staring off into the distance for several long moments, before shaking his head. "It seems that Groetus has chosen to delay the inevitable for a little while longer..."
Valerie gives a huff of breath that conveys her skepticism. "That was not the doing of any god, it was the doing of these good people here," she gives the group a shallow bow with a hand to her heart. "For which I would like to thank them, even if the rest of you have not the manners to do so." She looks past Nidintu, Halrod and Roots-Sink-Deep into the room beyond. "Did you defeat that giant? Our folly was to try to do so in single combat, and he bested us easily."
"Oh, I wouldn't say 'easily', now! I almost cut his arm off, did you see that? I bet that made it easy for those who fought him afterwards!" Amiri interjects with wounded pride.
Roots suddenly claps his hands together loudly!
We are in a bit of a hurry. The manor seems to have been infiltrated by assassins, giants and others to be announced! Stand! Arm yourselves!
(he winks at Amiri)
Erastil will provide!
The Druid then channels!
Roots then turns to his fey friends.
Let us search out more to save, more to hunt and more to eat!
The excited Root leshy prepares to continue the hunt for giants!
Halrod gives the three a hand up. Starting, it may be noted, with Valerie.
"We made a bargain with your giant. He is gone and we have information. Now let us see to the safety of the people in our hostess's home. The Guest Right has been violated and we owe her our aid."
As Nidintu notices that Amiri is looking for her sword, he retrieves it from its place out of her reach and presents it to the muscular warrior. "Your weapon, my friend." He then collects the other two adventurers' weapons, as well as Valerie's shield, and returns them to their owners. "You need not worry, friends. The giant is... no longer a threat." His eyes flick to Phoebe and back, a look of worry on his face. Only time will tell if we made the right decision.
"As for the situation, we have currently secured the rest of the east wing. Unfortunately, aside from ourselves, you three, and Linzi here, we have uncovered only two other survivors - both elected to remain in the guest suite area." He points down the hall, indicating the direction of the rooms. "In addition, if you check in one of the bushes in the water garden, you should find a would-be assassin with no weapons and what I imagine must be an extremely painful headache. We have managed to discover that this assault was led by a man named Nishkiv, and that two other giants took part in the attack."
The tall elf shrugs. "The choice is yours, but you three seem rather badly injured - rather than aiding in the counterattack, I think you might be better off interrogating our erstwhile foe in the water garden." Moving back into the scullery, he tries the handle to the door into the Great Hall.
Valerie frowns at the news, while Amiri clenches her fists around the grip of her impossibly-sized sword, a grin breaking over her features.
"The giant still lives? Then I'll get a rematch! Hah!" She takes off at speed back into the east wing.
"You seem to have things well in hand here, and it is wise sometimes to split your forces," Valerie nods at Nidintu-Bel. "Besides, I am not fully equipped at the moment", she gestures to her white linen night dress and bare feet. "I will see if your captive has any information they would be willing to share, although there is little I can offer in return. As you said, we are guests here, and it is ultimately Lady Jamandi's right to decide what should be done with these attackers." She shifts her level gaze to Harrim, who is holding his head in his hands and moaning. "Master Harrim, will you accompany me?"
Meanwhile, Linzi has wandered off to the south door, which hangs ajar, peeking inside the room beyond. "Oh, this is the washroom."
The handle of the double doors leading to the Great Hall gives under Nidintu-Bel's hand, but his attempt to push the door open is met with resistance - it appears that the doors have been barricaded from the other side. Muffled sounds erupt from beyond the barricade, voices shouting and the scrape of more furniture being shoved against the doors.
Roots stomps to the barricaded doors.
Nidintu, his patience wearing thin, kicks the door sharply upon finding it barricaded. "That does it!" He calls through the barricade to the assassins he assumes must be waiting beyond. He strikes the door with his maul to demonstrate that his threat is not an idle one - not hard enough to seriously damage it, but hard enough to prove his intent.
There is a moment of quiet after the shouting, and several people can be heard conferring in low voices on the other side of the door. After a few moments, one raises their voice to ask.
"The giant, is it dead?"
Another voice adds "If you are not with the Black Tears, prove it!"
Nidintu is raising his maul to break through the door when the voices from beyond come through the massive slabs of wood. He lowers his weapon, but his attitude is still ready for combat. "I was under the impression that you were allied with the brigands assaulting the manor rather than House Aldori. For all I know, you could still be - simply claiming otherwise is not necessarily an indicator of allegiance."
He thinks for a moment, propping his massive hammer against the doorframe. "As for your question, the giant is..." He searches for the right words. "...gone, and no longer a threat. You require proof of our allegiance? We were here earlier tonight, surely you remember us? I was the pleonastic demon-blooded elf with the maul who talked the entire time with that woman with the greatsword? My blue-skinned friend invented the song for children with the halfling scholar? My arboreal ally conjured rhubarb pie from nowhere and had a nervous breakdown? Does any of this sound familiar to you?"
The tiefling picks up his maul again and taps it against the door for emphasis. "Let me put it this way - one way or the other, we are going to be on the other side of this door and your barricade within five minutes. It is not up to you whether we enter the Great Hall or not. Rather, your decisions will influence whether we are in a good mood or a bad mood when - not if - we enter."
A moment of silence from the other side of the doors, then some grumbling and the scrape of heavy furniture against the stone floor. After several minutes, the door is pulled open a crack, with several of Lady Jamandi's guards visible through it, crossbows and halberds at the ready.
The one at the front relaxes a fraction as she sees the group. "Oh, it is you. Come in, quickly."
Once everyone is through, the guards slam the doors shut again. The Great Hall looks very different than it had during the feast. Some of the long tables that were used to host the prospective heroes are part of the makeshift barricade, while the floor is covered with broken crockery and liquid spills of uncertain origin. At least a dozen bodies lie against the east wall, and some of the guards bear wounds. The double doors leading into the west wing are likewise barricaded, and tapestries have been torn from the walls and wedged into the gap between the floor and the doors - the smell of smoke offers a hint as to why.
A large man with gray eyes, close-cropped black hair and a magnificent moustache marches towards the group with alacrity, a couple of guards following on his heels. "Lieutenant Ivenzi. You escaped the east wing, I see. What is the situation there? Any other survivors?" He watches everyone expectantly, the way a commander is awaiting their subordinate's report.
The small Root leshy barges into the Great Hall! His angry blue eyes surveying the scene set before them. He frowns at the makeshift barricade. He winces at the floor being covered with broken crockery and liquid spills of uncertain origin. Viewing at least a dozen bodies lying against the east wall, and some of the guards bearing wounds, Roots-Sink-Deep yells!
The Druid seems a bit in a hurry!
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As the doors open, Nidintu readies his maul, but quickly lowers it once he sees that the Great Hall's defenders are in fact Lady Jamandi's guards. He quickly enters the hall when asked, looking around at the scene of carnage with dismay.
As Lieutenant Ivenzi approaches, Nidintu nods in greeting. "Apologies for my... brusqueness when requesting entry into the Great Hall - I was under the impression you were of the Black Tears. As for your question, the east wing is currently secure. We have encountered ten assassins, one ogre, and the giant Jurgrindor, but I do not think further Black Tears reinforcements remain in that sector. As such, I believe it to be cleared, obviating the need for your barricade. Obviously, however, the secured state of the east wing is predicated on the portcullises defending against attack from outside - whatever mechanism secures these gates should be safeguarded so these cutthroats cannot lift the manor's defenses."
At the question of survivors, the tiefling lowers his head in mourning before speaking. "Unfortunately, casualties in the east wing were numerous. Five of our fellow adventurers escaped the bloodbath and are currently safe in the east wing suites, but the remaining twelve fell to enemy blades. Of the guard complement in the east wing, I can confirm the deaths of nineteen, and six members of the manor staff were likewise murdered." He looks up before continuing. "We do have one prisoner, however - a brigand named either Myron or Fitz is currently tied up in a bush in the water garden. He may be able to provide more information on the nature of the assault."
Nidintu looks over at the barricaded doors to the west. "As I said, the east wing is secure, so you can use the material from that blockade to reinforce the one leading to the west wing. You need ancillary braces to redirect the peak load into the floor - right now, your moment arms are too long. I wouldn't rate that barricade for more than three and a half kilonewtons before the shear forces split it in half." He sketches out a basic diagram on a piece of paper, handing it to the Lieutenant. "My friends and I will look for survivors in the east wing, so if you could wait until we are in that sector before reconstructing the barrier, I would be appreciative."
Lieutenant Ivenzi's eyes narrow as he listens to Nidintu-Bel's report. "An exceptional summary. You former military, son?" Not waiting for a response, the lieutenant signals a couple of the guards to break down the eastern barricade, while others are sent into the eastern wing.
"Wylla, Sten - check for survivors and apprehend any assassins still alive." A muscle twitches along the side of his jaw as he tamps down on his rage and grief. "We will look to our dead later, once the living are out of danger."[b]
He turns his attention to the elven warrior. [b]"We currently control the mechanism for the portcullises, so that is one point in our favour. Did you say you wanted to head into the west wing? If so, your help there would be appreciated. Lady Jamandi took a squad there to try and clear the wing. If you do go, be careful, as the hallway and several of the guest rooms are currently ablaze, but the rooms further west should still be safe."
Raising his shield before him, Roots-Sink-Deep begins heading toward the west wing.
I heard there is a portrait of a bald eagle imprinted on the rug. And that the office is oval. Weird, but true.
"An exceptional summary. You former military, son?"
Nidintu looks away at Ivenzi's words, not wanting to meet the guard's gaze. "Not precisely, no, but I do have some combat experience. Please forgive me if I do not speak more on the subject - the memories are both painful and a source of shame for me."
"Did you say you wanted to head into the west wing? If so, your help there would be appreciated. Lady Jamandi took a squad there to try and clear the wing. If you do go, be careful, as the hallway and several of the guest rooms are currently ablaze, but the rooms further west should still be safe."
The former bandit nods in thanks. "Indeed - I misspoke earlier, and for that I apologize. If the west wing is afire, the safest course would be to let it take its course, allow the fire to smother in its own smoke - but regardless of the dangers posed, I cannot in good conscience leave Lady Jamandi to face the Black Tears alone. I will venture into the west wing to render her what aid I can." He looks around at the other members of the fae pack. "I cannot speak for you, my friends, and I cannot ask you to accompany me on a quest of this peril, but I would encourage you to accompany me, as duty demands."
After waiting for his friends' reply, he moves to the west barricade and begins dismantling it just enough to admit the fae pack to the corridor beyond.
Most of the fae pack follows Nidintu into the west wing of the manor, with only Clementine electing to stay behind and help out the survivors. Linzi follows as well, eager to witness the events despite the dangers.
Halrod and Phoebe remember that the best way to protect oneself from the harmful inhalation of smoke is to wrap a wet cloth around the mouth and nose. Thus, after a few moments, everyone is as prepared as they can be to face the blaze on the other side of the doors.
The guards shift the barricade just enough for the fae pack to pass, then unbar the doors and pull one open to allow passage beyond. A cloud of roiling smoke billows into the Great Hall, orange sparks winking in and out of existence as they are borne along.
Beyond the doors lies a smoke-filled corridor heading north-west. Flickering flames mark open doorways on either side.
Roots smiles at Nidintu's report. The Root leshy eagerly waiting for the elf to join him. Satisfied and nodding to the elf, the Druid Raises his Shield to ready to enter behind the opened doors!
Seeing the billowing smoke, the Root leshy enters the corridor.
Nidintu looks out at the smoke-filled hallway, pausing only for an instant to think before turning to his companions. He attempts to make himself understood to as great a degree as is possible, though his voice is muffled by the wet cloth. "The Lieutenant said that there were clear rooms beyond the fire! Any survivors from this wing will likely already be with Lady Jamandi and her group! We need to move forward!"
The tall tiefling forges onward through the smoke and fire, shielding his eyes from the worst of the embers with one arm while his other hand holds the cloth over his mouth. He pauses at the other end of the hall, one hand on the doorknob as he waits for his companions to catch up.
Halrod nods agreement, saving his breath. His bow nocked and his elven eyes alert, he follows close behind Nidintu.
The fae pack advances swiftly towards the far end of the corridor, the double doors of the Great Hall slamming shut behind them. The first two doors they pass on the left have burned in their stone frames, and now the raging flames inside the rooms are spreading outwards. The tapestries lining the walls of the hallway are smoldering, and some of them are already burning.
The first opening on the right has no door at all, only an arch leading into some kind of small temple, a marble statue of an armored half-elf woman standing on a stone dais at the far end. The air inside seems less choking, although still smoky.
At the end of the hallway, the doors are still untouched by fire, although the brass knob is hot under Nidintu's touch. Opening the door reveals a finely furnished art gallery, with two cushioned sofas framing a door leading west and several padded chairs positioned to offer a good view of the exhibits - oil paintings hanging on the walls and shelves bearing small sculptures and ceramic pieces. The air is smoky, but relatively clear - at least compared to the hallway.
As Nidintu enters, he almost stumbles over a small humanoid who lies sprawled on the thick burgundy carpet near the doors; those who have interacted with him at the feast, particularly Lani, recognize him as the gnome arcanist Tartuccio.
"Hey, there's that jerk," Lani comments, peering down at Tartuccio. "Is he dead? Should we poke him?"
Lani pokes him.
Upon the door being opened, Roots barrels inside, shield raised before him, shouts of challenges coming from his mouth, he trips over a dead (some say asshat) gnome. Tumbling vines, nuts and berries are slung about, as the Root leshy is seen sprouts up!
Watch out for the trap!
Regaining his feet (if not his dignity), the Storm druid's blue eyes flare with lightning.
Turning that gaze to peer about at a finely furnished art gallery, with two cushioned sofas framing a door leading west and several padded chairs positioned to offer a good view of the exhibits - oil paintings hanging on the walls and shelves bearing small sculptures and ceramic pieces, Roots begins crossing the room toward the only door.
Tartuccio jerks as he is first poked by Lani, then stumbled upon by Roots-Sink-Deep. "A-a-ah! Watch your step, you fashion-challenged oafs!" The gnome sputters and coughs as he climbs to his feet, then staggers to one of the padded sofas, where he collapses dramatically. Linzi raises an eyebrow at the theatrical display.
"Ah! My loyal henchmen! I knew that you would come to save me from this indignity!" He pulls out a finely embroidered handkerchief from his breast pocket and pats his forehead, leaving sooty marks on the fabric. "Well! Let us go now, before those indescribable brutes return. Come, step lively now!" He hops off the sofa and begins heading towards the doors leading back into the hallway and towards the Great Hall.
Roots-Sink-Deep seems to have pee'd himself from laughing so hard!
Asshat. I told you.
As Nidintu enters the room and almost stumbles over the prone Tartuccio, he looks down at the prostrate figure with one eyebrow raised. "I can see his epitaph now. 'Here lies a fool whose ego was as large as his brain was small. He died as he lived: fleeing from danger with his tail tucked between his legs.'" The normally polite elf seems to have little respect for the pompous scholar, and he seems to have no compunctions about insulting him to his face.
When the gnome jerks awake, Nidintu pays little heed to his theatrics, looking around to ensure the room is secure before moving to the west door. This coward hides and plays possum while around him innocent people die. What's more, he acts like the world revolves around him! I expect he'll want to go cower where it's safe - I've half a mind to propel him on his way with my boot, if not the end of my maul!
At the gnome's demands, Nidintu turns to glare at the figure slumped theatrically on the couch, his face twisted into a scowl as he snarls a decidedly discourteous reply. "Not a chance, Tartuccio. Lady Jamandi and her guards are currently fighting for their lives somewhere in this wing, and we are going to help them, because we are neither cowards nor weaklings. In the unlikely event that you grew a spine after our last meeting, you're free to come with us - who knows? Perhaps Lady Jamandi requires a limitless source of hot air! If you want to return to the Great Hall on your own, however, feel free to do so - Erastil knows I don't need your particular brand of egotistical idiocy right now!"
Tartuccio sneers at Nidintu-Bel. "Oh yes, I would expect nothing less from a bootlicker like you. Too bad you're not smart enough to know which boots are the right ones." He marches back to the sofa, throwing himself on it with a petulant expression. "Very well, if you will not escort me to safety I will wait here for better-disposed heroes."
Two doors lead out of the gallery, one to the north and one to the south.
Shield Raised, the Druid prepares to open the South door while the blown hard continues to feed the flames....
"Very well, if you will not escort me to safety I will wait here for better-disposed heroes."
Nidintu raises his eyebrows at Tartuccio's words. As he moves to the north door, he mutters to himself. "You're likely to be waiting for some time, then."
Reaching the north door, he carefully feels it to see if a fire lies beyond. If there is no immediate danger, he listens at it to see if enemies lie beyond.
Roots-Sink-Deep opens the south door into a slightly smoky room that contains wooded weapon racks and wooden stands intended to hold suits of armour. Many of the racks and stands are empty, with several weapons and discarded armour pieces, all of them bearing Lady Jamandi's crest, lying about on the floor.
Meanwhile, Nidintu-Bel listens at the northern door, and can hear vague, muffled voices in the room beyond.
The Druid looks at all the metal, curses, and slams shut the door.
Nothing but potential tennis shots incoming in there!
Roots stomps over to the North door. The Root leshy seems about to fling it open....
Halrod stands with arrow nocked, watching Nidintu-Bel intently.
As Roots opens the south door, Nidintu waits just long enough to confirm that there are not active threats in the room beyond, then throws open the north door and rushes into the room beyond, his maul held in his hands but not immediately ready for combat. Not being one for subtlety, he cries out a loud statement of allegiance as he enters, unsure of the affiliation of those beyond.
Two Black Tears thugs whirl around at Nidintu-Bel's loud entrance, reaching for their weapons. The room they are in seems to be a parlour, with several padded chairs, a comfortable-looking pair of couches, several side tables and a finely crafted game table.
On one of the couches lies jaethal, the pale elf that was seated at the fae pack's table during the feast. Her hands seem to be bound behind her back, and several coils of rope further bind her form as she stares coldly at her interrogator.
The fourth presence in the room is clearly different from the Black Tears they have encountered so far, although the same tattoo under his left eye marks his allegiance. He wears shades of brown rather than black, including a rough cloak with a high collar, and wields two long, curiously curved blades, the tip of one resting under Jaethal's chin. As he turns towards the door, at least four more knives are visible on him, in sheaths attached to wide leather straps that crisscross his body. He pulls down the black cloth covering the lower half of his face, one corner of his mouth twitching.
"Tsk. Persistent as cockroaches, I see." His voice is gravelly and raspy, a rough sound that grates on the ears. "How is it that you live, when better people than you found their end this night? No matter, you will not vex us for much longer."
With a practiced, smooth move, he flicks his blades, twirling them and aiming their points at the intruders. The two thugs rush forward, one of them circling the game table to flank Nidintu-Bel.
Linzi balls her fists, shouting through the door. "You are the cockroaches! And you will be squashed accordingly, you'll see!"
Roots glances inside the room to not see any giants. The Root leshy seems a bit disappointed.
I am been know to be quite vexing. Just to warn you.
The Druid then calls on Nature to electrocute the two thugs flanking Nidintu!
The druid then asks Nature to grant Nidintu Guidance.
"Nidintu! Make some room in there. Break the bottleneck!" shouts Halrod. Then he fires at the thug to the left (who has a lot of cover.