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Grombar looks to each of them. "Let's go. I'd like to reach the edge of the Holgirr Mountains before next snowfall." Grombar starts leading a small sturdy cart fitted with skis towards the stables. He haggles a bit with Constance before finally fitting an old and shaggy looking mule to the cart. "Let's go Rurik. You've been whining about missing Doriast for an age."
"No way we're carrying back enough food for more than one of your meals." Grombar pats Aengus' stomach. "Try not to go into hibernation too long this winter." Grombar looks towards Guldar's Forge. "That beast has certainly taken a liking to that little one." he motions. The runty Ankylosaurus found in captivity with Gritnarr a week or so ago lays on a snowpile while Cassandra, Guldar's daughter. She piles snow on it's head and laughs whenever it shakes it off.
Grombar finishes with the bear largely during the conversation, he's clearly using practiced hands. He drapes the bear skin fur side down over a car railing despite the two scorched handprints and the arrow hole. Aengus helps him quarter the bear and they tie ropes around the wrists (ankles?) of the bear meat and Grombar says some words over the bear. "You were bewitched by evil. I hope we gave you and your ilk a noble death, befitting a warrior." He looks up. "I'm ready to make the trip to Haven's Cross. By the way that Dinosaur is working through our produce, we won't have much soon. I'm sure it won't eat the meat."
Grombar seems antsy and unsure. He guts the eastern bear and starts separating the think soft fur from the meat."Pelt is a bit worse for wear, meats good. No sense..." He trails off.
Grombar waits for an opening and comes downward with both tomahawks between the bear's shoulder blades.
A noticibly less enraged Grombarr makes two overhand axe throws off the cart burying both maulaxes into the western bear's neck.
The bury themselves deep, but miss vitals. Before tumbling back into Grombar's hands as he leaps behind the bear to flank the beast with Erazire.
Grombar will sprint through the snow and let out a bellow as he leaps into the cart. Landing hard among various crates and rolled up carpets.
Grombar nods. And lays flat on the ground, head facing the direction you're going.
Grombar nods.
Grombar does his best to guide the group through the woods and back to town. He's not as swift as he was on the way into the woods and his beard filling with snow as he squints into the growing storm. The creases around his eyes are deep. "I think it's this way."
"I'm going with you Aengus. I missed too much of the fun last time around. None of these elves will be leaving these woods alive." He refills and downs a drink for Aengus' gently glowing tankard, an amber light washing over his face and he lifts. He passes it to Erazire. "Drink." Tankard of Hanseath: Tankard of Hanseath (Until their next rest, the drinker may add +1d6 to the next magical or restful healing they recieve or may add +1d6 to the next strength save they make .
"I'll lead, Rurik, stay close and keep your eyes to the trees. When we get close I think we should have the little one sneak in and get a closer look so we can come up with a plan. I think we'll need every advantage we can get."
"We cross the river and go south. I saw a camp...he's being kept in a cage. There are many cages. Some very large. I also saw them eating...someone." He looks pale. "They're keeping Grit alive, I'm very sure of that but he's in really bad shape."
Grombar gives a knowing stare.
Grombar groans and sits up. "Thanks...how many did I get?" He looks down at the broken arrows. "At least those ended up in me and not you fragile folks!" He laughs off his near death experience. "Let's eat. My vision told us we need to cross the river and follow it south just another hour. They're keeping Grit prisoner but they're keeping him alive." After that, he's quiet during the meal. Somber and thinking.
Grombar clots.
"COUGH SPUTTER GURGLE" You see Grombar's labored and shallow breathing turn regular.
Two failed saves. If Grombar fails a third he dies.
One failure.
Filled with a half dozen arrows, Grombar falls to the ground.
Grombar's tomahawks fly back into his hands as his eyes track Guldar. He climbs up the tree he's next to, using his axes as climbing picks.
Grombar stays up. Looks over his shoulder to Aengus and screams. "DEATH WILL BE TOO GOOD FOR YOU!" He does a backwards somersault onto the log before backflipping over his companions in the middle coming to land infront of Elf #1
"YOU'LL NOT TAKE ANOTHER DEEPFLAGON!" He hurls both his antlered axes into the sternum of the elf.
Grombar lets out a roar of frustration and ducks behind a fallen tree. (on his turn)
"COWARDS!"
Grombar takes two arrows to his shoulder. He grits his teeth hard and you see fresh blood pouring between his teeth. The veins on his neck bulge and his body shakes with anger.
"Give me a break, we don't have time for this!"
"I don't see anyone do you?" Grombar whispers to Aengus.
"The age of this forest is not to be overstated. An ancient wilderness has no motivations..except hunger." "But you seem to all agree that we should cross tonight." "My vision lead me to believe the Gritnarr was being kept alive...though he's in very poor condition." He looks to the Dragonborn.
Grombar walks with a confident stride that seems far more measured than the Grombar that left town a few weeks ago. His steps are surefooted and he takes you off path regularly but following his route helps you to make fantastic time. You take short rests in the afternoon and make simple camp once the daylight is gone. The day after you leave town you come across the outskirts of the forest and slowly enter. The forest is ancient. The trees tower over you like mountains. The roots of some trees are taller than Khazhan. Thick vines and mossy wrap and cover everything. The sun disappears behind a canopy of overlapping tree limbs far above your head leaving everything in a warm, gentle, yellowy light. Grombar hops from rocks to roots conquering the completely pathless forest easily, though his eyes are wary and paranoid. Following where he steps your make short work of the deciduous obstacles. You're growing concerned you might become lost. "Almost everything here is dangerous. Be careful. We'll need to make camp when we come to the river. The day after we'll cross the river and be to Grombar by morning."
"And mine. I'll wait at the gates. The forest is thick and dangerous. I can speed our travel. Bring supplies. We'll be in there a few days."
"I'll show the way. It shouldn't take long." Grombar has a faraway look of concern.
Grombar has a wide eyed stare, like he's looking through the tavern walls at something far away. "He's alive, but he's in bad shape. I saw glimpses. He's in a cage. Lots of cages. Arrow wounds. They're...festering. The elves, they're...experimenting. He's surrounded by other cages, full of all large beasts. There is something else. Like a spirit. It's dark. Long reach....there's one like him." Grombar points to Erazire. "But not him. The one that bested the Wyvern. He's there. With the creatures."
The smells in the Drunken Horse are savory and hearty. It's warm and cozy, a welcome respite from the persistent cold of the early winter. The mood however is strange and somber. You see an imposing looking wiry, scarred dwarf with blazing orange hair (with small turfs of white appearing in random patches through his beard and hairline. He removes two tomahawks from a bandolier on his back. They're runic and the handles look to be gnarled antler or horn. "I had a vision. In the mountains. I saw him. He's been kidnapped. I know where he is."
The smells in the Drunken Horse are savory and hearty. It's warm and cozy, a welcome respite from the persistent cold of the early winter. The mood however is strange and somber. You see an imposing looking wiry, scarred dwarf with blazing orange hair (with small turfs of white appearing in random patches through his beard and hairline. He removes two tomahawks from a bandolier on his back. They're runic and the handles look to be knarled antler or horn. "I had a vision. In the mountains. I saw him. He's been kidnapped. I know where he is."
Anyone outside in Haven's cross see a wiry, scarred and weathered dwarf. He's wearing a pair of leather breeches and not much else. His chest is emblazoned with a blue tattoo of crossed battle axes. He's walking through the gate like he's just seen a ghost. He looks at you dreamily and enters the Tavern.
Grombar is nowhere to be found. You may have seen him leave with the mysterious Draconian fellow talking about continuing to fight for sport.
Strength Contest
Eating Contest
Drinking Contest
Grombar reaches and throws a tomahawk in the direction of the thrower.
"Gold comes from mountains not the sea! ARYA daft?"
"HAH!"Grombar barks, in a way that suggests he slightly too drunk to recognize how loud you're speaking. "Like on a boat? In the OCEAN?" He grabs another from the tray you just ordered. He speaks while drinking in a intelligible muffled gurgle, then he realizes you can't understand him, swallows, and repeats himself. "Why? Did you just escape, are they here?"
Grombar gets a bit somber and uncharacteristically well spoken. "A few hundred years ago, one of our brothers was temped by dark powers. He turned to arcanics and eventually to necromantic magics. He was banished from Doriast and we thought that was the end of it." "It wasn't. He returned 20 years to the day after his banishment with an army of dinosaurs and Giants. Many had perished and been...brought back..under his powers. Others had their minds taken from them. There were thousands and they were trying to dig our hall out from the mountain to leave us exposed. This is why Doriast is a tower. Only our most bottom levels are still underground." "We used everything we had to repel the assault. Cannons, Griffon Riders, Phalanxes and phalanxes of brave soldiers. Our ancestor, Grombar the first, was able to get to the Betrayer and strike him down (he looks to his axes). The betrayer seemed to repent, to ask forgiveness. He said he would turn his army away but in the moment of hesitation Grombar was killed by the betrayer. A brave griffon rider saw what happened and she rushed in to finally destroy the betrayer and carry Grombar the first back into the hall. I'm honored to carry his name, and his axes. All Deepflagons..er..MOST Deepflagons carry ancestral weapons that were used during the betrayers wars. Their powers becoming slowly realized as our ancestors decide we're worthy." "Ever since that day, our clans have rotated wandering duty. The Deepflagons have volunteered to have one son from each family on duty at all times to lessen the sacrifice other clans have to make. Living outside your hall isn't considered to be a great life. Our wanderers are tasked with destroying any giant or their kin and evil magicians. Our hope is that this will prevent evil like this from ever rising to a strength that could ever stand against us. Many of the descendants of the betrayers army still roam around the Holgirr Mountains aimlessly."
It takes some time, but eventually you're able to read a number of magical runes. There are three in particular that translate roughly for "swiftness/throwing", another that reads "Giantfolk Destroyer" and "Finding/magnetic" It seems that these tomahawk hammers (about the size of large hatchets) are enchanted to excert a strong forward or backward spinning force that helps these hammers stabilize in flight and once they make an impact, they return to a point of origin that's hard to understand, you wonder if there's some sort of deeper process going on with that magic.
"UGH! FISH? How can you eat that stuff?"Uh, no thanks on the fish." "I've never even been to the ocean. The only fish I've seen are in rivers. Those looked disgusting and smelled worse. I'll leave more for you all...My axes are heirlooms. My great great great grandfather, Grombar the first, used to carry them. Rurik's shield and Aengus' hammer are also ancestral. We did work together to make some modifications to a few. Dwarven rune magic is the greatest form of enchantment. " He rummages around in a pack and pulls out a loaf of green, hard, bread(Picture), and two tankards. He fills both tankards with a stew. It looks to contain dozens of types of mushrooms and hunks of duckmeat. The broth is almost black. He dunks crusts of the green break into the tankards and plops them in his mouth.
"UGH! FISH? How can you eat that stuff? Dwarven cooking isn't great but at least it's better than fish." He starts off to the south moving briskly, smoothly and nimbly. He snaps his fingers and his maulaxes return to his hands. He drops them into belt rings. "I think I can smell the stew!"
Grombar charges at the group breathing heavily and snarling. He looks around, slowing his breathing as throws his axes into a stump where they plant themselves. His chest is emblazoned with two crossed hatchets. "Stay." He says holding his palms outwards towards their handles. "No more Ogre scum? What a let down.I could kill those knuckle draggers allllll day. So satisfying when they hit the ground." "I'm Grombar. And I'm hungry."
"Revel in the challenge of a good fight.." Grombar leaps away from the giant and throws both his maulaxes in huge overhead arcs. HNUHgh"..and never waver in the face of adversity, no matter how ominous."
The axes connect with their blunt sides, collapsing the Biggest ogre's skull into an explosion of gore. He charges empty handed to the west, his axes flying back to his hands as he runs.
Grombar drops down from the treetop throwing and buring the axemaul into the Big 'un's collarbone completely. You hear an audible crack, like a tree splitting in half in a windstorm.
He brings his empty hand to join his other, spins the axe around to the maul side and throws it at his buried axe like it's a splitting wedge.
He lands, standing on the upright giants shoulders, his weapons dislodge and fly back into his waiting hands.
"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He leaps from the tree towards the Big Un'.
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