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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 4735813" data-attributes="member: 31465">Adventure #2: Merple's MissionPART THREEThe hill giant pulls its knees to its chest, trembling as it is surrounded by the survivors of the ambush.  Clearly, this raiding party picked the wrong caravan to mess with.  The giant is questioned, and it answers as best it can in thick, broken Common, trying not to meet the eyes of its captors lest they destroy him.  The group demands to know where the giant’s treasure is, but it says they don’t really have any yet.  Their caravan was the first to be ambushed, and the party sees piles of logs and boulders stockpiled for just such an attack.  The group asks about the ogres, and the hill giant says they just agreed to work together.  As for the strange-acting bugbears that wouldn’t attack, the hill giant just says they’re stoopid…the pot calling the kettle black, and the adventurers don't think much more about it.[In fact though, there is significance to their behavior...]But then the archers on the back of the last wagon are shouting for assistance, and Douvan runs over to investigate.  They point to the flap at the back of the wagon, and peeking in, Douvan sees one of the bugbears cramming foodstuffs into its mouth!  It sees Douvan, slows down chewing, but doesn’t stop, reaching carefully for another hardened biscuit.  There is still a chain and collar around its neck. “Get out of there,” the ranger says. The bugbear complies, easing out of the wagon, and then quickly shambles down the road as fast as it can, spilling crumbs from its mouth as it keeps eating. “Hey! Stop or I’ll put an arrow in your back!” Douvan shouts, raising his bow. The bugbear does not stop though, and the last second that he can fire before the monster is out of sight, Douvan lowers the weapon.  The bugbear flees into the woods. Balthazar is in a hurry to get the caravan moving again, snarling at the drivers to calm the mounts and to clear the debris off the road.  “I have business in Everlund!  Hurry up!  Time is wasting!” But the PCs want to find the hill giant’s lair and scavenge it for more treasure, despite the giant saying it doesn’t have any.  They ask the giant how far it is, but it doesn’t know. They ask how many giants steps does it takes the walk there, and the giant counts on his fingers.  “One…two…three….more dan three.”Balthazar is FURIOUS at more delays, but they convince him that it will take time to bury the dead and to clear the road.  Jolen volunteers to bury the two mercenaries under some rocks and say a prayer to Tempus over them, guiding their brave souls to the afterlife.  The other PCs follow the trail of shattered trunks and smashed bushes about a mile up into hilly terrain, eventually finding a shallow cave and a large bed of flea-infested animal skins stitched together into a crude blanket.  Here, they do find a large locked trunk, but inside is just a finely crafted outfit of noble’s attire that might fetch a fair price in the right market.  When they return they ask the giant about the box and the clothes, and where it got them, but the giant just says it forgot.  Indeed, the box had not been broken and was locked.  But now they have the problem of the subdued giant sitting on the ground.“Kill it,” says Douvan.  “It will just ambush someone else.  Won’t you?”“NOO!” the giant moans, shaking its head, but they don’t really believe the thing.  Even if it was truthful, it’s dumb enough to forget its promise.  The giants are notoriously evil and stupid. Merric gives it an ultimatum, which the giant readily accepts: pick up your club and fight honorably to the death—or strip naked and run from here like a coward.  The hill giant is naked in a heartbeat (everyone turns their heads, groaning in disgust), tugging down its raggedy trousers and then trundling up the hillside, its bare white buttocks wagging goodbye to the heroes.  Whether or not they’ll see this particular hill giant troubling wayfarers again remains to be seen. Hopefully not naked. <img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/everlund.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and by evening they have arrived at Everlund, a walled fort city of some ten thousand occupants.  People mill about the streets, and the smells of commerce and hot food wafts over the party members.  “Last stop,” says Ghale Stormbrow, crossing his hefty arms.  “You fought admirably today.  It was a pleasure to battle at your side, and I hope you learned from my techniques.  I’m sure you did. Until we meet again!” Balthazar disembarks without a word to anyone, and the group decides they’ll need to split up.  Merric decides to tail the wizard, and Douvan will follow Merric to watch his back.  Jolen the cleric knows that there is a shrine to Tempus in Everlund, although not a full temple or church.  They agree to meet at the shrine later. The cleric’s plan is to target a tavern or other place of gossip in a more seedy part of town, and since Everlund is largely a trading post full of travelers and adventurers, seedy parts of town abound.  Jolen takes his two henchmen to the Stag Horn Tavern where they discuss what happened on the road with anyone who will listen.  “Drinks on me, friends, I’ve a tale to tell!  We were just ambushed on the road today by ogres and a giant, and you’ve not seen magic like our wizard had!  Balthazar was his name.  Do you know of him?  He must be famous…”  The cleric is able to draw a crowd and slowly pick them for information, although it ultimately turns up very little.He decides to stop by a local magic shop, the Witch’s Crook, where an ugly hook-nosed hag nods to him as he enters.  “Help ye, love?”  Jolen knows about the problem that Balthazar had with Merple the Moneylender, something about how Merple cheated the mage out of a spell component, something called…powered unicorn hoof?  Or was it horn?  He’s not sure now.  Jolen inspects the wall of jars and vials and bags, finding numerous tidbits for rituals that could help his own magical endeavors, and finally comes across a small amount of powder labeled as Unicorn Horn.“Why would someone need this?” he asks the crone.  “Oh, that, hmm, yes.”  She nods, grinning in a non-pleasant way.  “For necromancy it is.  Or healing in the right hands. A unicorn does not give its horn up lightly. Someone killed it for that yes, hmm. Not me, love! I just sell it.” Jolen finds that interesting.</blockquote>

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