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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4957536" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Jorr led our heroes down the pathway guarded by the wicker warning. The forest grows thick on either side. Jorr leads the way, with the others not far behind. It isn’t far before they come into a clearing with a primitive lean-to before the embers of a fire.</p><p></p><p>“Someone has been here recently,” murmurs Jorr, frowning as he examines the ground. “Someone... big.”</p><p></p><p>“As we expected,” nods Corbin the Conjurer. “We should-“</p><p></p><p>A sudden loud roar interrupts him, and a huge form stomps forth from the woods. It stands much taller than any of our heroes. It is clearly some kind of giant, with rough skin resembling nothing so much as the trees themselves and hair like the leaves of an oak. His arms are corded like knotted wood, and he holds a large tree branch like a club. </p><p></p><p>“LITTLE ONES!” he screams. “YOU DARE!!”</p><p></p><p>“Wait, stop!” cries Kifla desperately. “We come in peace!”</p><p></p><p>“We aren’t like the other little ones!” shouts Corbin.</p><p></p><p>“We have something that belongs to you,” calls Jorr.</p><p></p><p>Barouk harrumphs and crosses his arms.</p><p></p><p>But the old giant- for our heroes can now see that the looming figure is covered in wrinkles and his hair is sparse- ignores the dwarf, and instead seems to respond more to the friendly overtures of the others. He peers at Kifla first. “You are small,” he rumbles, his voice loud even when he doesn’t shout. “Smaller than... the others. The bad ones.” He turns to face Jorr and Corbin. “But you two are the same size as them...”</p><p></p><p>“But we’re <em>different,</em>” Corbin insists. </p><p></p><p>Jorr is digging in his pack. “And we have something for you,” he repeats. “I believe that it was taken from your folk during the, uh, conflict.”</p><p></p><p>“Murders,” the giants pronounces direly.</p><p></p><p>Jorr retrieves the huge gauntlet that the party liberated from the ruined keep. “Here,” he says, tossing it to the giant.</p><p></p><p>The huge figure peers at the gauntlet for a long moment. </p><p></p><p>“We’re very sorry,” Kifla adds, “for what happened to your kin. But it wasn’t us- and now, there’s a much more dangerous threat approaching.”</p><p></p><p>“We need your help,” Corbin the Conjurer nods. “And as a show of good will...” He pulls forth the staff that the party found in the same secret area as the gauntlet. “I notice that you’re moving a little slowly, a little painfully. Clearly, you have, uh, some of the maladies of age.”</p><p></p><p>“Warklegnaw’s joints hurt,” the giant mutters.</p><p></p><p>“Exactly,” Corbin says. He smiles gently. “This may help.” The <em>staff of life</em> in his hands begins to glow with a warm white glow as he lifts it towards the giant.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Old Warklegnaw, his aches and pains largely <em>healed,</em> proves to be most eloquent when speaking in Giant. Only his limited vocabulary prevents him from sounding much more educated and cosmopolitan when speaking in Forinthian.* The party finds him to be a generous host, offering up the meat of the deer that he has brought down. </p><p></p><p>And, thanks to the fact that they healed him, he proves much more interested in and able to help them than they could have dreamed. </p><p></p><p>The party explains what they know: that there is a force of goblinoids preparing to attack Drellin’s Ferry, and that is probably presents an equally imminent threat to Warklegnaw and his remaining kin.</p><p></p><p>Warklegnaw tells the party that his kin is not within a couple of days’ journey, and that he is the last of their kind to remain in the area. He plainly refused to flee the giants’ defeat at the hands of the defenders of Vraath Keep, but equally plainly, the rest of his folk have abandoned the area. </p><p></p><p>The old giant, feeling better than his has in years, agrees to go with the party to check out Skull Gorge, and they set out in the morning. Their path is uncontested, but when they come close to the canyon, they are met with a dismaying sight. From the cover of the woods, they can see that a force of goblinoids holds the bridge across- and they can see, perched atop one of the towers at the far side, a dragon.</p><p></p><p>Beyond it, in the distance, an army- not hundreds strong, but <em>thousands.</em></p><p></p><p>“Oh dear,” says Kifla.</p><p></p><p>They retreat for a moment. </p><p></p><p>“We can’t just let them stay there,” Barouk states. “We know that they’re going to attack soon, although we don’t know when. We have to knock out that bridge.”</p><p></p><p>“But how?” asks Corbin. </p><p></p><p>Old Warklegnaw frowns, looking around. After a few moments, he finds a large stone. “Get more,” he commands.</p><p></p><p>The party spends a few hours gathering up a good-sized pile of rocks that Warklegnaw says are suitable for throwing. Then, once they have enough ammunition for the wood giant’s taste, the party stands back and watches. </p><p></p><p>Old Warklegnaw spends a few minutes stretching his arms and back. “Old Warklegnaw hasn’t felt this good in years!” he exclaims. Then he picks up a heavy rock, tests its weight- and spins around with it clutched to him. He gathers momentum until, with a snap, he lets his arms uncurl from his torso, extends the rock and <em>hurls</em>.</p><p></p><p>Up, out of the woods in the dying light of the evening, the rock sails up and out and over- and into the bridge.</p><p></p><p><strong>KATHOOM!</strong></p><p></p><p>Dust and pebbles spray everywhere, There is the sudden outcry of goblin scouts shouting and trying to alert their allies, but it is hard to miss the new pot hole that has suddenly appeared in a shower of stone. </p><p></p><p>Old Warklegnaw picks up another stone.</p><p></p><p>The dragon spreads its wings and launches itself into the air even as the second rock crashes into the bridge. A sudden array of cracks spiderwebs the stone. </p><p></p><p>Hobgoblin and goblin sentries scramble for weapons, put on helmets and begin to respond, but by then Warklegnaw has launched another stone. This one comes down less than a foot from the last, and cobbled stone explodes in a cloud of dust. A great noise begins to rise from the bridge. </p><p></p><p>The dragon flies quickly towards the area that the onslaught is coming from- just in time to catch another stone in the body. It flaps quickly to avoid plummeting from the sky, and the sudden crackle of magic launches skyward as both Corbin and Kifla cast spells at it. A hippogriff appears in mid-air, disorienting the dragon.</p><p></p><p><em>Green,</em> thinks Kifla. <em>It’s green. What does that mean? Poison gas, or acid?</em></p><p></p><p>The dragon answers for her, breathing a cloud of chlorine gas out- in the wrong area. Our heroes are untouched, hidden in the woods.</p><p></p><p>Another rock whizzes by the dragon, missing it by inches- but striking true at its real target.</p><p></p><p>With a loud crack and groan, the bridge collapses into the gorge below it. </p><p></p><p>The dragon screams in anger and descends, but as it moves towards Barouk another boulder smashes into it. It rocks back, and our heroes- rather than fleeing, as the dragon had hoped- attack it. Barouk leaps forward, kicking it in the chest. Kifla and Corbin harry it with spells, and Jorr launches a flurry of arrows at it, one striking true and punching into its wing. </p><p></p><p>The dragon tears into Barouk, wounding him gravely, but another boulder followed by the sight of the wood giant lumbering towards it is enough. The dragon flexes its powerful wings and takes again to the air. Another boulder to the snout convinces it, and it retreats across the fallen bridge.</p><p></p><p>The first battle for the valley is won.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Now what??</p><p></p><p></p><p>*The Common tongue of the area the pcs are in- which is on the island of Forinthia, for the record.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4957536, member: 1210"] Jorr led our heroes down the pathway guarded by the wicker warning. The forest grows thick on either side. Jorr leads the way, with the others not far behind. It isn’t far before they come into a clearing with a primitive lean-to before the embers of a fire. “Someone has been here recently,” murmurs Jorr, frowning as he examines the ground. “Someone... big.” “As we expected,” nods Corbin the Conjurer. “We should-“ A sudden loud roar interrupts him, and a huge form stomps forth from the woods. It stands much taller than any of our heroes. It is clearly some kind of giant, with rough skin resembling nothing so much as the trees themselves and hair like the leaves of an oak. His arms are corded like knotted wood, and he holds a large tree branch like a club. “LITTLE ONES!” he screams. “YOU DARE!!” “Wait, stop!” cries Kifla desperately. “We come in peace!” “We aren’t like the other little ones!” shouts Corbin. “We have something that belongs to you,” calls Jorr. Barouk harrumphs and crosses his arms. But the old giant- for our heroes can now see that the looming figure is covered in wrinkles and his hair is sparse- ignores the dwarf, and instead seems to respond more to the friendly overtures of the others. He peers at Kifla first. “You are small,” he rumbles, his voice loud even when he doesn’t shout. “Smaller than... the others. The bad ones.” He turns to face Jorr and Corbin. “But you two are the same size as them...” “But we’re [i]different,[/i]” Corbin insists. Jorr is digging in his pack. “And we have something for you,” he repeats. “I believe that it was taken from your folk during the, uh, conflict.” “Murders,” the giants pronounces direly. Jorr retrieves the huge gauntlet that the party liberated from the ruined keep. “Here,” he says, tossing it to the giant. The huge figure peers at the gauntlet for a long moment. “We’re very sorry,” Kifla adds, “for what happened to your kin. But it wasn’t us- and now, there’s a much more dangerous threat approaching.” “We need your help,” Corbin the Conjurer nods. “And as a show of good will...” He pulls forth the staff that the party found in the same secret area as the gauntlet. “I notice that you’re moving a little slowly, a little painfully. Clearly, you have, uh, some of the maladies of age.” “Warklegnaw’s joints hurt,” the giant mutters. “Exactly,” Corbin says. He smiles gently. “This may help.” The [i]staff of life[/i] in his hands begins to glow with a warm white glow as he lifts it towards the giant. *** Old Warklegnaw, his aches and pains largely [i]healed,[/i] proves to be most eloquent when speaking in Giant. Only his limited vocabulary prevents him from sounding much more educated and cosmopolitan when speaking in Forinthian.* The party finds him to be a generous host, offering up the meat of the deer that he has brought down. And, thanks to the fact that they healed him, he proves much more interested in and able to help them than they could have dreamed. The party explains what they know: that there is a force of goblinoids preparing to attack Drellin’s Ferry, and that is probably presents an equally imminent threat to Warklegnaw and his remaining kin. Warklegnaw tells the party that his kin is not within a couple of days’ journey, and that he is the last of their kind to remain in the area. He plainly refused to flee the giants’ defeat at the hands of the defenders of Vraath Keep, but equally plainly, the rest of his folk have abandoned the area. The old giant, feeling better than his has in years, agrees to go with the party to check out Skull Gorge, and they set out in the morning. Their path is uncontested, but when they come close to the canyon, they are met with a dismaying sight. From the cover of the woods, they can see that a force of goblinoids holds the bridge across- and they can see, perched atop one of the towers at the far side, a dragon. Beyond it, in the distance, an army- not hundreds strong, but [i]thousands.[/i] “Oh dear,” says Kifla. They retreat for a moment. “We can’t just let them stay there,” Barouk states. “We know that they’re going to attack soon, although we don’t know when. We have to knock out that bridge.” “But how?” asks Corbin. Old Warklegnaw frowns, looking around. After a few moments, he finds a large stone. “Get more,” he commands. The party spends a few hours gathering up a good-sized pile of rocks that Warklegnaw says are suitable for throwing. Then, once they have enough ammunition for the wood giant’s taste, the party stands back and watches. Old Warklegnaw spends a few minutes stretching his arms and back. “Old Warklegnaw hasn’t felt this good in years!” he exclaims. Then he picks up a heavy rock, tests its weight- and spins around with it clutched to him. He gathers momentum until, with a snap, he lets his arms uncurl from his torso, extends the rock and [i]hurls[/i]. Up, out of the woods in the dying light of the evening, the rock sails up and out and over- and into the bridge. [b]KATHOOM![/B] Dust and pebbles spray everywhere, There is the sudden outcry of goblin scouts shouting and trying to alert their allies, but it is hard to miss the new pot hole that has suddenly appeared in a shower of stone. Old Warklegnaw picks up another stone. The dragon spreads its wings and launches itself into the air even as the second rock crashes into the bridge. A sudden array of cracks spiderwebs the stone. Hobgoblin and goblin sentries scramble for weapons, put on helmets and begin to respond, but by then Warklegnaw has launched another stone. This one comes down less than a foot from the last, and cobbled stone explodes in a cloud of dust. A great noise begins to rise from the bridge. The dragon flies quickly towards the area that the onslaught is coming from- just in time to catch another stone in the body. It flaps quickly to avoid plummeting from the sky, and the sudden crackle of magic launches skyward as both Corbin and Kifla cast spells at it. A hippogriff appears in mid-air, disorienting the dragon. [i]Green,[/i] thinks Kifla. [i]It’s green. What does that mean? Poison gas, or acid?[/i] The dragon answers for her, breathing a cloud of chlorine gas out- in the wrong area. Our heroes are untouched, hidden in the woods. Another rock whizzes by the dragon, missing it by inches- but striking true at its real target. With a loud crack and groan, the bridge collapses into the gorge below it. The dragon screams in anger and descends, but as it moves towards Barouk another boulder smashes into it. It rocks back, and our heroes- rather than fleeing, as the dragon had hoped- attack it. Barouk leaps forward, kicking it in the chest. Kifla and Corbin harry it with spells, and Jorr launches a flurry of arrows at it, one striking true and punching into its wing. The dragon tears into Barouk, wounding him gravely, but another boulder followed by the sight of the wood giant lumbering towards it is enough. The dragon flexes its powerful wings and takes again to the air. Another boulder to the snout convinces it, and it retreats across the fallen bridge. The first battle for the valley is won. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Now what?? *The Common tongue of the area the pcs are in- which is on the island of Forinthia, for the record. [/QUOTE]
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