No worries, Silvio. Thanks for the heads up. I'll bear that in mind and post for you if necessary.
Enjoy your trip(?)
Search Posts
I see him every now and then, shrugs the boy. He comes and visits the Lord at the keep. Mostly he stays out of town though. Lives out in the Nolands somewhere. Overhearing the conversation, an older woman sitting nearby calls out to you. He keeps an eye on the plains, she says. Makes sure those barbarian tribes know to stay away from Brinewall. The townsfolk vanished about five years back and word has it the Nolanders were to blame. Casually nodding towards the castle overlooking the dozen or so village buildings, she gives you a quick local history lesson. We only moved in here two years ago, she explains with a vague gesture towards the boy and other villagers, once the lord secured the castle and made it safe again. He doesn't have lots of soldiers but he's made some deal with Harshnag to keep the Barbarians in check. If you're looking for him, I'd head southeast, she offers. I hear word there was a band of Nolanders not two days from here. That's closer than we'd like and you can bet the giant will be paying them a visit to remind them to keep clear.
The Griffin sails west for Starday and Sunday, passing the island of Hollow Mountain before turning North to hug the coast. The weather is ideal, with barely any rain and mild seas ensuring you make good time. As the ship leaves the Varisian Bay and heads further north, the crew relax somewhat as the risk of attack by giant raiders recedes. You sail for a further two days alongside the spectacular Calphiak mountain range until Captain Petallis guides the ship eastward towards your destination. This far north, the sea traffic is more sparse and you sail for a day and a night without encountering another soul. Finally, on the morning of Oathday the 28th day of Pharast, the small town of Brinewall comes into view. Once mysteriously abandoned, the fortified village has recently been rebuilt and is once more acting as a halfway point for those ships sailing from Varisia to the lands of the north. The weather continues to favor you, unseasonably warm and pleasant with barely a cloud in the sky. The Griffin sails into the natural harbor and ties up at the docks unchallenged, the empty moorings sharply in contrast with the port back in Riddleport. Captain Petallis calls instructions for his crew before coming to speak with you as you disembark. Brinewall, as promised, remarks the captain with a slight bow as you leave his ship. We’re heading further up the coast in two days time. If you plan on heading up to the Land of the Linnorm Kings and are looking for passage, come back and see us. With that, the captain returns to his ship, leaving you alone by the pier, a few villagers looking on with curiosity. Brinewall is a small village on the south bank of Steam River. There is a surprisingly well maintained castle overlooking the harbor and town, much larger than would seem warranted by the dozen or so buildings clustered around the dock. You would judge this to be a village of around fifty people, although the castle is large enough to house a similar number of guards, soldiers and nobility. There are half a dozen villagers dotted about town and the front gates of the castle are open wide.
The five of you head to the Riddleport marketplace and can easily source as many healing potions as you need, returning with plenty of time to make the afternoon deadline. The Griffin is a tidy, well maintained ship although relatively small. There is a total crew of nine – the captain, first mate and quartermaster together with half a dozen sailors. The quartermaster collects and counts your fee, before the ships’ mate introduces you to Lerian, the crewmember who has been assigned to look after you on the journey. Here. I’ll show you to your quarters, she says briskly, leading you to the rear of the ship near the officers’ cabins. Designed predominantly for cargo, there is only one cabin for passengers and the five of you will find it a crowded week. The crew have slung four hammocks and provided a bedroll on the floor, likely to be the least comfortable. If you need anything, come find me. If you go up on deck, just try and stay out of the way. If anyone gets seasick, you’ll want to go to the port side. The wind will be coming from the West and North for the next couple of days and trust me: the only thing worse than being seasick is being seasick into the wind. With a grin, Lerian leaves you to make yourselves at home as she prepares for the ship’s departure. Captain Petallis returns from business with a small crate which is stowed belowdecks before the crew begin making preparations. Your ship attracts some attention from the locals, being one of very few willing to brave the Varisian Bay given current events. As the crew make ready, sailors lingering on the docks offer catcalls and heckles, loudly promising to contact your next of kin. Unperturbed, the professional crew get you underway quickly and you are soon navigating through the crowded port of Riddleport before unfurling all the ship’s sails and heading out for open water. The Captain will be hugging the coast, Lerian informs you as you leave the shelter of Riddleport’s harbor and into Varisian Bay proper. With luck the Frost Giants will be out in the open sea. Their larger ships can’t get as shallow as the Griffin. Although apparently there are some longship raiders about who might be able to catch us…..Still, we’re a long way from any settlement, so offer a prayer to Besmara that they’re all farther south! You sail for a few hours before nightfall, at which point the watch changes and the captain reduces the ship’s speed. The crew of the Griffin settle into a comfortable rhythm and you can tell they are a professional, seasoned outfit. Even those stood down refrain from excessive drinking, talking and joking together on decks or sleeping below in their hammocks. Come dawn, the ship is once more allowed to run free, speeding south towards the head of the Riddleport peninsula before turning west towards the island of Hollow Mountain, the gateway to the Arcadian Ocean.
Heading down to the docks, you begin moving from ship to ship seeking passage to Brinewall. As expected, most captains have no intention of leaving the safety of Riddleport until they absolutely have to. Eventually though, you manage to find a fast, small merchant ship called the Griffin, captained by a slim, middle-aged human named Petallis. He is willing to consider providing passage, although his asking price is steep. After some minutes of negotiation, you settle on a price of two hundred gold for the five of you. The merchant has some business to attend to in Riddleport but the Griffin plans to leave late in the afternoon today. You have around six hours to make any preparations before you need to be on the docks ready for departure.
Leaving Elvarin in his messy and ill kept study, you return to the attendant at the end of the hallway. As he begins to lead you through to the front part of the lodge, you hear Elvarin’s door slam behind you unceremoniously, the sage returning to his secluded studies. It is a short stroll to the grand entrance which opens back on to the main road. Here the attendant bows slightly, before leaving you to face the crowded streets of Riddleport once more. It is morning and the town is busy but not yet fully awake. From here it is a short walk to the crowded harbor. If you wanted to find passage on a ship bound for Brinewall the docks and surrounding taverns would be the best place to look. Alternatively, you could head overland, via the city gates. That would see you retracing the steps you took weeks ago following the Velashu river, through Elbar’s Bluff and then on to Brinewall.
Of course it’s a lot to take in! You’ve been wandering around blind all your life, just like the rest of them, snaps Elvarin irritably. The giants have kept to themselves, off in the wilds miles from anywhere. That doesn’t mean the threat has disappeared. I’ve been telling them for years but they were all too busy digging through the ruins of an ancient empire to bother with the one right on our doorstep! Harshnag is a friendly enough sort, he informs Pik almost as an afterthought. Once you find him just make sure he knows you’re not looking for a fight. I spoke with him once, many years ago. I found him a bit dim, to be honest but at least he wasn't the savage brute typical of his kind. Nonetheless, he seemed totally incapable of proper intellectual discussion, more’s the pity. I had theories I wanted to explain.
What I could tell you and your friends would fill a dozen libraries! snaps the uncouth sage at Silvio before pointedly returning to his tome, paging through a few more pages as you stand awkwardly in his cluttered and dirty study. Fine. I can tell you what you need to know….Well what little you can understand anyway, he continues with a pointed look at Silvio. From what you’ve said, there has been a severe disruption to the Ordning. The Ordning is part philosophy, part religion and part legal code, he continues, sitting back in his chair as he begins his lecture. After the fall of Thassilon, the giants found themselves free of the Runelords’ control for the first time in centuries. In the wake of Earthfall, they first attempted to take the place of their former masters. From the stories I’ve been able to recover, that was a bloody time of anarchy and continually shifting alliances amongst the giant races. Of course, the giants weren’t the only former slaves of the Runelords with power and a desire for rulership. The dragons were also seeking to subdue the survivors of the fallen human empire and to found their own petty fiefdoms. Seeing the giants as the most potent enemy to their plans, dragonkind began to ruthlessly prey on the squabbling giant races. It was during this war between giants and dragons that the gods interceded, Elvarin continues. Fendarra the Blood Mother, one of the giant goddesses, called the leaders of all the giant tribes to her. Once they had gathered, she gave them The Ordning, a caste system of rank and honor that would transcend the different giant races and impose peace on the warring tribes. Storm Giants were placed at the head of the society, Cloud giants beneath them and so on down to the minor giant races. Within each giant society, the path to status and power was also decreed and thus the races were unified whilst still being allowed the freedom to act according to their true natures. It’s only due to this intervention that we’re not all living as slaves to dragon masters. Once the giants ceased their internal squabbles, they made war on the dragons. A war which dragged on for centuries and centuries, eventually fading into a grudging enmity as the armies on either side ground to an exhausted draw. For thousands of years, giant society has progressed according to the strict guidelines imposed by the Ordning. Each race of giants have developed their own cultures and lived according to their own natures. Over all of them have stood the storm giants, ensuring the peace is kept and consequently protecting all inhabitants of Varisia from being overrun by the other, lesser giant races. Elvarin pauses at this point and frowns with some concern. From what you’ve seen and heard, it seems that something has happened to that stability. For whatever reason, the Storm Giant King is no longer holding the others in check. Without the Ordning, we could see giants of all kinds spreading across Varisia, each seeking to build their own empire. And let me assure you, should they put their minds to it, not only Riddleport but Korvosa, Magnimar, any settlement of Varisia would fall. I’ve been warning the lugheads around here about the threat of giants for years. Why waste time learning about the dead Runelords when their most powerful minions are still alive and threatening us all? The dishevelled sage breaks off into deep thought once more, shaking his head and muttering slightly as he relives previous debates. Looking up to see you still in his study, he looks somewhat pained. You need to find out what’s happened in the Storm Giant’s kingdom. Learn why the Ordning has been broken. And then you have to find out how to fix it! he insists. To do that, you’ll need to speak to someone who knows more about the Ordning than we can learn from books. There is a frost giant, a loner who has forsaken his Jarl and now makes his own path in the world. Harshnag is his name and he roams the wilds north of Brinewall and Steam River. He is well known in Brinewall and even with the raiding of the Frost Giant longships, I suspect they will still be on good terms with him. I’d begin there, seek out Harshnag and see what he can tell you of the Ordning and what has happened in the world of giants. Of course, if you can’t find Harshnag, your other option would be to seek out the Storm Giant King. If there has been a disruption to the Ordning, it must have hit hardest there as the Storm Giants were the race tasked with keeping the others in line. I can’t believe the king wouldn’t know more about whatever has befallen his subjects. Having completed his lecture, the untidy man sits for a few moments, idly scratching himself as he looks you over. Well? Doesn’t that answer your questions? You wanted to know what was going on. I told you. So get out there and find Harshnag! I don’t have time for guests. I’m a busy man! waving towards the door, he appears to consider your meeting concluded.
Elvarin snorts in reply, the tactless sage barely even looking up from his book. Well, at least you noticed that, he mutters pausing his paging for a moment before once more flicking through the great tome. The key to the mystery is obviously there. Is something making them act like that? Or did there used to be something holding them back? His question appears rhetorical, or perhaps directed to the book he is holding. Reaching the passage he’d been seeking, the unpleasant man places the book on the table beside the candle, lowering his head to a couple of inches from the book and squinting at the writing.
Pik and Kraz give an account of your adventures to the closed door with no sign of any interest on other side and at it’s conclusion the hallway remains silent for several moments. Just as you begin to suspect the occupant has wandered away, the door is suddenly jerked open. You see a bleary eyed, unshaven human standing in dishevelled, faded robes of the Cypher Mage order. His hair is greying and matted and by the look and smell of him he hasn’t bathed in some weeks. He squints out at your group for a brief moment before turning on you and walking back into the gloomy room, apparently all the invitation you’re going to get. Following your unpleasant host inside, you find yourselves in a study just as unkempt as its owner. There is one other door, presumably leading to the Cypher Mage’s sleeping chamber. Curtains hang across the window which by the smell of the room, haven’t been opened in a very long time. Discarded plates of food, bottles of wine and other such detritus litter the floor and the few chairs which lie against one wall. Elvarin picks his way through the rubbish to a desk, itself cluttered with a dozen or so books and tomes. Illuminated by a single, sputtering candle. Turning back towards you as you crowd in, he plonks himself down in his chair, watching you disinterestedly before picking up a book and paging through it. Well? Go on. he grunts. You mentioned you took a prisoner. Anything useful you managed to glean from them? Did you think to interrogate him? Or do louts like you run out of ideas once the battle is done?
Leaving Malitar in the meeting room, you follow the attendant deeper into the halls of the Cypher Lodge. Leaving behind the ornate rooms designed for the public, you move into more subdued passages. Marble gives way to polished wood and the walls are decorated with tasteful murals or painted scenes rather than tapestries and statuettes. The attendant leads you through the area set aside for Cypher Mage living quarters until you reach an isolated wing near the rear of the building. Master Elvarin’s room is here, says your guide softly, tapping respectfully at the door. After a moment’s silence you hear a muffled reply through the wood. You have guests, Master Elvarin. Travellers from Roderic’s Cove come to speak with you. <Well tell them to speak to someone else!> comes the gruff reply, the stout door remaining closed. Lord Malitar has said you are well suited for this inquiry, Master Elvarin, calls the attendant. Our guests seek information on giants. There is a slight pause at that, and you hear movement from inside the room. However, the occupant makes no effort to admit you. I’ll leave you to your conference, the attendant says to you inclining his head slightly. I’ll be at the end of the hall when your business is concluded. So saying he heads back the way you’ve come to the previous intersection, a short distance down the hall. <Well? What do they want?> comes the gruff voice from the other side of the door. <I’m busy. I can’t spend all day arguing with idiots just because they think they’ve learned something incredible about giantkind.>
Sadly, my knowledge of giant lore is minimal, confesses Malitar with a helpless gesture. Fire giants are known for their skill at crafting and their engines of war. Cloud giants are known as hoarders of wealth and ostentatious displays of power. It sounds like perhaps each group is behaving even more according to those tendencies? In fact come to think of it, frost giants are inveterate raiders and hill giants are gluttons, he muses. It’s not my area of expertise, you understand. But I would hazard a guess that something has perhaps enhanced their natural proclivities? The Cypher mage pauses for a few moments, sipping his wine as he ponders speaking further. Eventually coming to a decision, although obviously somewhat reluctantly. I feel I should direct you to someone more….specialised, he announces, looking slightly embarrassed. He’s one of our order but does not always portray us in the best light…I’d ask you to forgive his rather uncouth nature. Assuming he’ll even see you at all. His name is Elvarin, he continues repeating a name you’d heard back in Elbar’s Bluff. Although he is a member of our order, his studies have taken him somewhat further afield. He has some controversial theories….He believes that the true magical power of the runelords derived from the giants themselves. It’s clearly nonsense, he insists quickly, interrupting himself. The evidence is incontrovertible. The giants were slaves to the runelords and nothing more. Nonetheless, Elvarin is irritatingly persistent in his claims and has spent years studying giants in general and giant magic in particular. If anyone here at Cypher Lodge is going to have answers for you. I must reluctantly conclude it would be him. He’s unlikely to meet you here, but I can have the attendants take you to his chambers, he says almost apologetically. After that, I’ll take my leave of you. Do you have anything further you wish to ask me before speaking with Elvarin? I’m afraid I can’t promise you he’ll cooperate, but we can at least introduce you to his study door. You may need to make your case from there.
Yes, the giants…everyone is talking about the giants, he smiles ruefully. I’m not sure I can tell you anything you haven’t heard already. For the last month or so it seems that every breed of giant has been stirred into activity. The frost giants have been causing the most trouble here. Their longships have seriously disrupted all trade on the Varisian Bay and all those who prey on such trade, of course. We have heard of fire giants scouring the countryside, cloud giant castles travelling all over Varisia and the foul hill giants looting and despoiling pretty much anywhere. From what I hear, they aren’t working together and there have been reports of inter-giant battles, or at least people have discovered evidence of such. I’m not sure if it offers any clue, but I have heard also heard it said that nobody has yet reported any storm giant activity. I suppose we should be thankful for such mercy – they are the most powerful of the giants. If they were to turn their minds to causing trouble, I’m not sure Varisia would have the ability to resist. As for your specific questions, I can offer only a little guidance, he shifts a little uncomfortably at that but presses on. The Nightstone is something known to me. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Cyphermages, but our work focusses on the ancient empire of Thassilon. We seek whatever relics, lore and knowledge we can glean from the ruins of that once spectacular empire. The rulers of Thassilon were known as Runelords and there remain many signs of their arcane power, even thousands of years after their fall. The Nightstone is a menhir in the town of Elbar’s Bluff with peculiar markings which only appear in moonlight. Due to the strange runes that sometimes come to light, many Cyphermages have spent some time there, trying to discern their meaning. Although we have studied the marks extensively, we have struggled to learn much of interest. Everyone…well almost everyone, who has studied them has declared them curious relics but nonetheless dead ends. He appears to be ready to speak further but then seems to change his mind and moves on to other topics. The Vonindrod…I do remember something about that, he muses, drifting off into a brief reverie as he struggles to recall some fact. Ah yes…I do recall mention of it. It’s only peripherally related to my research as it wasn’t an artefact from the time of Thassilon, but rather from the centuries after its fall. When the runelords left and their cities crumbled, the giants and dragons who had previously been their thralls began a fierce struggle for control of the disintegrating empire. The war between the two great races waged for centuries across all of Varisia. The Vonindrod was a weapon, fashioned during that time by the giants to serve them in their struggle against dragonkind. I’m afraid I can’t tell you very much about it, he apologises. As I said, it’s not really related to my field as it’s not of true, Thassilonian origin. All I know is that it was big, even for a giant construction. It also travelled widely – I heard reports of it being used in widely different regions of Varisia. The lore I uncovered about it was uncorroborated, but as far as I know it was destroyed as the war ground down to the inevitable draw.
Heading home after an evening of unwinding, you rejoin Rath and spend an uneventful night in the cramped but clean and warm rooms above the Tailor’s shop. Come morning, you head out for a brief meal at the open market before heading on to the Cypher Lodge. It’s one of the grandest buildings in Riddleport and, although open to the public, you get the impression that you would not be particularly welcome were it not for the letter of introduction to Malitar Debrock given to you by Narth Tezrin back in Roderic’s Cove. As it is, the attendant in the foyer takes the letter and leads you upstairs to a spacious, private sitting room before heading off deep into the sprawling building to pass on your letter. You are left alone in a richly decorated room tastefully decorated with ornate furniture. There are several comfortable chairs and a finely carved wooden table with a generous plate of fresh fruit, bread and cheese. There is also a flagon of wine and a carafe of cool water. Large windows open onto a small balcony which overlooks one of the finest streets in Riddleport, as well as providing spectacular views of the harbor beyond, crowded with many ships of all sizes. After several minutes, the attendant who guided you returns with a middle aged man dressed in fine robes. You guests, my Lord, he says quietly indicating your party before leaving you alone with the newcomer, closing the doors as he leaves. Welcome to the Cypher Lodge, my friends, smiles the distinguished man as he takes a seat, holding up the letter from Roderic’s Cove. My name is Malitar DeBrock, at your service. Narth speaks very highly of you and asks that I give you my full attention. Please....tell me how I can help? The wealthy Cyphermage pours himself a glass of wine as he awaits your reply.
Thanks, Kraz. Will do.
Besides the usual barroom arguments, taunts and antics, the main topic of conversation is the increased Frost Giant activity. Practically all of the sailors present have some story of being attacked, chased or menaced by one of many Giant longships currently cruising the Varisian Sea. You also hear tales of increased giant activity all across Varisia from as far south as stone giants menacing Sandpoint to a clan of brutish hill giants plundering the farms around Brinewall to the North. Nobody has any remotely plausible explanation for why the usually reclusive giants are suddenly on the march. Worryingly for your group, the consensus seems to be that the Cyphermages are as clueless as everyone else. What would they know about giants? snorts one gambler derisively. They spend all day pondering those runes on the Cyphergate and stroking their beards… That’s not all they’re stroking! interrupts another reveller, accompanied with an unambiguous mime and the enthusiastic, loud laughs of his drunken companions. Most of the evening yields nothing more illuminating than that. Nonetheless, the room is clean and warm, the food and drink passable and the entertainment exceptional. Towards the end of your stay as things begin to wind down, one of the serving staff approaches you as she cleans up the tables nearby. If you’re looking for guidance, I may have someone who can help, she offers. An old Varisian friend….wandered for years but settled here in Riddleport a couple of years back. He’s a master of the Harrow cards and not one of those charlatans you see at village fairs. I’ve never seen him fail. Predicted every storm to hit Riddleport since he got here. There’s nothing he can’t see in the cards. If you’re wise enough to listen to them, of course. If you don’t have any luck with the mages, meet me here tomorrow four hours after noon, she continues. We should be quiet for a few minutes by then. For a gold piece I’ll show you the way.
Rath returns to the tailor’s shop to escape the noise and crowds of Riddleport as the rest of you go in search of a tavern or other entertainment. You soon find yourselves at the Gold Goblin Gambling Hall, a raucous and garishly decorated gaming house. There is a large stage with dancers and musicians, numerous gaming tables and a number of tables and chairs scattered around the main hall and up on the balcony overlooking the festivities. Like the rest of Riddleport, the place is jam packed with loud, boisterous sailors and opportunistic townsfolk looking to earn what they can. Food and wine is of average quality, but readily available. The entertainment is better quality than you would expect, though decidedly bawdy, verging on scandalous. Various games of cards, dice and other contests of skill are run continuously as onlookers shout abuse from the balcony and place side bets.
The four of you are imposing enough not to earn any trouble from the more unsavoury clientele and can enjoy your time off. Are you looking for anything in particular or just having an ‘off-duty’ night and keeping your ears open?
The woman looks Silvio up and down before replying. Never heard of him, she answers somewhat disappointingly. But what everyone’s buzzing about is just how long the giants are going to be out there. We ain’t used to all these sailors in port at once. If they aren’t out there earning gold they’re not bringing it back here to spend it, right?
Search me, replies the stranger, barely breaking stride. I’d try down market street. The shopkeepers there have been renting out rooms, I hear. Moving in the indicated direction, it takes your party some time knocking on doors and asking around. Eventually, you manage to find a tailor with a couple of spare rooms above his shop. Pik negotiates use of both of them for five gold pieces a night. Although crowded, the five of you should manage a reasonable night’s sleep, safe from the weather and Riddleport’s more unsavory street gangs. The day is drawing to a close once lodgings are secured, however there’s probably still an hour of daylight remaining.
It’s easy enough to find the Lion’s Share Trading Post shopfront and the sole employee, Geron is able to take the horses from you. Asking him about accommodation, he looks sceptical. There’s not a single inn with a room, he reports gloomily. You could sleep in a tavern common room, and several store owners are letting out rooms above their shops. Neither of those will be cheap though. Alternatively you could just head a mile or so down the road back to Roderic’s Cove. Camping out in the wild is almost safer than Riddleport at the moment!
The lead thug looks around at his henchmen for support, but they seem happy to leave negotiations to him. Returning to size you up, he offers a small shrug. Well, perhaps we’re in the mood to offer you an exemption, he replies, nodding towards Pik’s sword. On condition of good behaviour, of course. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself with that now, would we? Once more the thugs offer a few, half-hearted laughs but the band of brigands makes no move to stop you entering the town. As you make your way through the crowds, you can feel a certain irritability amongst the citizens of Riddleport. The odd angry shout rises above the din. There are significantly more sailors than you remember, sauntering down the road or loitering on streetcorners. It looks like it may be difficult to find a room, but you have a good six or seven hours of daylight remaining.
Accepting the mounts from the Roderic’s Cove guard, you make good progress towards Riddleport. The weather is fine and the only encounters you have are with travelling merchants and farmers. The recent giant activity is a hot topic of conversation, the merchants in particular fume over having to use slower, overland routes due to the Frost Giant raiders that have been wreaking havoc in the Varisian Bay. You spend one night camping in the hills before pressing on into Riddleport, arriving on Oathday, 21st Pharast three weeks to the day after you left for Elbar’s Bluff. The sun is shining and despite the sea breeze, the day is heating up as you crest the final hill and see Riddleport stretched out before you, the Cyphergate dominating the skyline. As expected, you see there are many more ships in the harbour than when you left and as you approach you can see, hear and smell that the township is at bursting point. The streets are full of people and there are several merchant caravans forming up outside the town. As you approach, several thugs near the entrance to town lazily stand up, watching you warily as their leader holds up his hands. Best you make tithe for the Overlord, lads he grins. A gold piece each should do it. Given you’re going to be bringing those beasts into our fine city. Civic improvement, don’t you know? some of his henchmen offer a forced chuckle at that, watching the traffic in and out of the town casually as they size up which will make the most profitable targets.
The room falls quiet as Pik makes his speech. Many of the gathered councilors shift uncomfortably as he gently reminds them of their priorities. As you turn to leave, there is an awkward silence before Captain Amerris steps forward and begins directing the discussion. After the timely reminder from our friends, let's return to the matter of the defences and protecting what we have as well as rebuilding what we've lost. he turns to some of the more opportunistic merchants before continuing. I think we're all agreed that we should ensure things are put to right before embarking on any new construction... Sergeant Southwell guides you from the chamber as the council meeting returns to some semblance of order, offering no opinion on Pik's interjection. Their debate fades as he leads you outside and towards the stables. I think we can loan you horses for the trip to Riddleport, he replies to Kraz. Narth has an office of the Lion's Share trading post there. You can return them there and they'll see them back to Roderic's Cove in due course.
The night passes and you are well fed, warm and sleeping in comfort for the first time in a long while. Coronei brings you up to date with the town’s progress since the attack. The town guard is depleted but recovering and the council is making progress repairing the burned out section. The funds you brought will be welcome, he tells you. The people of Roderic’s Cove are reluctant to ask the Overlord of Riddleport for assistance. I get the feeling they’ve done so before and learned that any help provided comes at a stiff cost. Late in the afternoon, the town council meets in the town hall. Around a dozen business owners, farmers and other notables take their places around a large table as an informal gathering begins. Captain Amerris produces the ransom you delivered and gives a brief outline of what you have learned. After a brief murmur of thanks, the assembled councillors begin to discuss the ramications, but it’s clear none are very knowledgeable about giants nor particularly concerned, beyond the likely impact of giant activity on Roderic’s Cove. Debate moves swiftly to whether the funds should be spent on fortifying the town or repairing the buildings that were razed. As the meeting begins to drag on, Narth Tezrin approaches you, the proprietor of the Lion’s Share Trading Post. I’m afraid you’re unlikely to get much thanks, he apologises. People are worried….Plus there’s always the possibility of improving one’s position….Those two will be insisting we build a longer jetty for them to unload their catches quicker. Despite the jetty not being touched in the attack! Shaking his head at the arguments and discussion around the room, he produces a scroll and hands it to Pik. The Captain mentioned you were looking for information, he says. Around these parts, the Cyphermages in Riddleport will be your best bet. I’m not known to them really, but we did have some business with one. His name is Malitar DeBrock and we helped him out with some urgent alchemical supplies some months back. I’ve written you a letter of introduction. I don’t know how much use he’ll be, but it should save you some time anyway. Hopefully he’ll know which direction to point you in, even if he can’t answer your questions himself.
Once again we are in your debt, smiles the Captain ruefully. Although I fear it will be a long time before we can repay you. I’m afraid I’ve never heard of either of those words. We have heard some news though that is probably related to the mystery. There was a sighting of another castle in the clouds near Ravenmoor, like those that attacked Elbar’s Bluff. Thankfully it didn’t stop to attack, but headed directly west. It probably passed just south of here. There’s also been word of frequent attacks by frost giant longships, offers Sergeant Southwell. The pirate captains are all lying low in Riddleport. The raiders don’t seem to have any care whether they’re fighting Magnimar patrols or Riddleport pirates. From what I hear three ships have been lost in the Varisian Bay in the last two weeks! We have a town council meeting tomorrow night, Captain Amerris continues. I’m sure they will want to express their thanks for the funds you’ve brought us. I’ll ask around and see if anyone in town has any giant lore that will help. Would you stay with us until then? You’re all welcome to board here in the barracks, of course.
Thank you all for your patience. I'm now ensconced in Seattle for a week and a half and then on to Dallas. This time I'm travelling alone, so I will be able to return to posting a couple of times a day (albeit at unusual times for me, I suspect). I've progressed assuming you return to Roderic's Cove - whether you want to then push on the Riddleport or return to hunt down the Giant lair I'll wait to see. Dorin you're very confident you'll be able to find their lair from returning to the camp and using primal awareness. Ildmane took a couple of days but it's twisting trails through the mountains - their lair is likely only ten miles away or so - if you continue on in the general direction the giants were travelling, you'd be sure to find them soon enough.
After some debate, your party decides to head back to Roderic’s Cove. Dorin and Rath are confident they can find this place easily and a giant lair two days further into the mountains is likely to be easy to discover. The return journey passes without incident, taking you three days to make your way back to the plains and then back through farmland to Roderic’s Cove in the afternoon of Moonday, 18th of Pharast. In the nearly two weeks that you’ve been gone you can see the townsfolk have been hard at work repairing their township. Several of the buildings are in the process of being repaired, although others remain burned out shells. The townsfolk working amongst the ruins call out to you in greeting as you come into view and one or two of them run off into town to advise the town leaders of your return. Shortly thereafter, you find yourselves once more in the Town Hall. Captain Amerris and Lieutenant Southwell are there, joined this time by Coronei who bows stiffly by way of greeting. Although not dressed in uniform as the others are, the town guards clearly defer to him with the same respect they show the two officers. “Friends! It is good to see you again,” smiles Captain Amerris warmly. “We’ve managed to calm the more nervous villagers, but I can tell you they’ll all sleep better tonight knowing you’re visiting us once more. How did your giant hunting go? Did you manage to catch the two who nearly razed our town?”
We haven't heard Rath's opinion, but it sounds to me that Riddleport is the preferred option of the four of you. Dorin could certainly follow the four giants from far enough back to avoid detection from them. The risk of discovery would be from sentries/patrols as you got closer to their lair - you don't know anything about how lax/observant they are. On the momentum front - I'm in transit now from Lisbon to Seattle (around fifteen hours all up). Then things should settle for me and I'll get back to checking and posting a couple of times a day. Thank you all for your patience. Happy to report that it looks like there won't be another trip for a good twelve months or so!
Glad to hear that, Pik. I'm a sampler-of-many-systems myself without any strong opinions as to which is "best". I do like the fact that bounded accuracy means choosing between actions isn't a choice between "obviously best" and "pathetic". And on the momentum front, I'm sorry for the slow down - I'm travelling with my wife and posting is often in snatches of a minute or so while she's shopping (and on my phone, not my laptop which has my notes). Next week we part company and things should pickup a little (although I'm going to paizocon and then the NTRPG con, so I'm not sure what impact that will have). I'm back home June the 8th and usual service will be resumed then for sure, if not before. I'm not clear from the gameplay thread if you've reached consensus? It sounds like returning the gold to Roderic's Cove and then going to Riddleport for research? But following the giants to their lair first is a possibility...
After leaving the strongbox, Ildmane and Okssort wordlessly refashion the sling and roll the Vonindrod fragment into place. When it is secure, the two giants hoist the enormous object up between them and walk back towards their waiting companions. When they meet, the four of them turn their backs on you and disappear around the mountain trail, heading back to their Duke with the treasured prize.
After cleaning up your camp, you once more settle in to wait for Ildmane’s return. The night passes uneventfully, however as day breaks a storm rolls in and you are once more battered by wind, rain and snow as you huddle under your makeshift shelter. It’s not powerful enough to pose any threat, however in the two hours it takes to blow over you are all left bitterly cold and drenched. It’s around noon that you spot Ildmane returning as promised. She is accompanied by two other fire giants, although she leaves them several hundred feet down the trail and approaches your campsite alone, carrying an iron strongbox which she places on the ground before you. “As promised,” she announces formally, inclining her head slightly towards Pik. “Six thousand gold pieces being reparations for damage done to the human settlement in retrieving the Vonindrod. In exchange for the safe return of Okssort and the artefact. I trust you are satisfied?”
Even Okssort struggles with the abominable yeti, however he does manage to roll the thing off the cliff without too much drama. "There aren't many abominable yetis," he informs you. "No wonder we haven't encountered anything out here; they defend their territory fiercely. You were lucky. Some of them can breath a blast of cold."
Dorin moves up to engage the abominable yeti, striking it twice more and leaving it staggered. Finally, Pik joins the fray and finishes the beast off, the massive creature toppling to its side on the ledge. The sudden burst of violence over, the sounds of the yeti's death cry fades and is replaced by just the wind in the valley. Rath's paralysis lasts only a few moments before the heat gradually returns to his limbs. From his place at the rear of the camp, Okssort continues to watch wordlessly, though it's hard for him to disguise his respect.
Kraz hits twice more and the beast's injuries begin to show.
Hi Everyone. I realise we lost a bit of momentum after Easter and I'm afraid I've been struggling to pick up the pace again due to the next likely loss of momentum.. I'm about to head overseas for a month on holiday and I suspect that for the next couple of weeks things will be a little spotty for me in the first couple of weeks. After that, I'm heading to Seattle for Paizocon where my posting rate should return to normal. Long story short - I'll keep things going as I can but from now until May 20th I'm afraid there may be the odd lull. Hopefully you'll all be able to stick with me through that and we can get back going then. Feel free to chat amongst yourselves, of course but there may be longer gaps between my postings until then.
As Silvio clambers to his feet and gathers his weapons, Rath's ball of flame slams into the abominable yeti, causing it to flinch and step back a few paces. Howling in fury, it glares up towards Rath and the shaman feels a magical chill washing over him
It then attacks Kraz with both arms. ;
;
Pik attempts to distract the beast with magic, however it still manages to hit.
Silvio wakes to find himself prone on the cliff edge, two scorched yetis beside him.
The abominable yeti snarls in fury as all three of Kraz's strikes hit home.
Pik's second fireball finishes off both of the yetis on the side of the cliff. Finding himself with no opponents, Dorin moves to the wounded yeti fighting Kraz and cuts it down with one swing.
As the carnage continues, a new foe arrives. Towering over the other yetis and rivalling even Okssort in size, this beast stands nearly eighteen feet tall. It has been creeping up the path from the east and now emerges onto the battlefield. Similar in appearance to the common yeti, this enormous specimen announces its arrival with a shrieking howl, the others baying and responding in kind with an almost gleeful bloodlust. Obviously more intelligent than it's underlings, it sizes up the battlefield judging where to focus its attacks. Seeing the two yetis fighting Dorin with Silvio on the ground, it heads towards Kraz, almost closing the distance and sure to strike next round.
The yeti fighting Kraz attempts to take advantage of his reckless attack, once more glaring at the half-orc who is unaffected by the gaze. ; and
Oblivious to the dangers about him, Kraz looks to be hit twice until the recently thawed Pik once more uses his magic to distract the yeti, causing the second blow to miss.
Meanwhile, by the cliff edge, the newly arrived yeti launces itself at Dorin. ; and
The first strike is turned aside by the dwarf's armor but the second lands true.
Ignoring it's active foe, the yeti that climbed up the cliffside continues to attack Silvio as he's frozen in place, determined to rip him to pieces. ; and
Helpless against the monster, Silvio collapses to the ground!
Silvio remains frozen in place, his face blue. Dorin continues to strike against the yeti they fought last round, but the creature dodges his attacks.
The bard manages to shake off the paralysis, although he is still chilled to the bone.
|