Book VIII, Part 6
The sun rose on another striking summer day in the mountains, with barely a wisp of cloud visible in a vast expanse of bright blue. As the rays of morning light banished the shadows within the range they fell upon a small cluster of travelers who already had the look of having spent a goodly part of the morning marching along the difficult mountain paths.
The four companions walked onward in relative quiet, the only sound accompanying the gusting wind the scrape of their boots on the bare stone. Benzan was ranging a good distance ahead, picking out the best route along their chosen line of march. All around them rose huge peaks that rose up into the morning sky, some of them still bearing small caps of snow despite the season. Up here the air was colder, but still far from the bitter chill of the passing spring.
They marched onward throughout the morning, creeping incrementally deeper into the range with each passing hour. Finally, Benzan signaled and came quickly back toward the others, leaping agilely across the uneven stones that formed their current path up the side of a jagged ridgeline.
“I think we’re getting close,” Benzan said.
“What makes you say that?” Dana asked.
The tiefling replied with a curt gesture, and they followed the motion to an object that jutted from the rocks a short distance off the trail ahead. Warily they moved closer, but their initial perceptions were correct. The object was an uneven length of branch, about as long as a quarterstaff, jammed roughly into a gap in the stones. Atop the branch was a grisly sight—a collection of skulls of varying size, a half-dozen in all, ranging from a massive thing that looked to have belonged to a large predator, to several smaller ones that might have been humanoid in origin.
“It would appear that they mark their territory,” Cal commented.
“Perhaps I should scout ahead,” Dana suggested. “With my fly spell, I can cover this entire region in under an hour.”
“I think we’d better stick together,” Cal said. “These creatures are reputed to have quite excellent senses, and I don’t imagine that they are careless, given the harshness of their environment.”
“Yet another fetch/kill mission,” Benzan said grumpily, leaning against a conveniently situated boulder. “They’re starting to all seem the same, and it’s getting tiresome.”
“It’s for an important cause,” Cal said. “And the Oracle did not ask us to do anything against our natures. If what she told us is truth, she has reason to dislike them, reasons that clearly damn them by their actions.” Meaningfully, he inclined his head toward the totem of skulls.
“Yeah, well how do we know these giants are as evil as she said they were?” the tiefling persisted. “They collect skulls, but perhaps they belonged to things that invaded their territory... like we are now.”
“Well, according to the Oracle, they’re thieves at the very least,” Dana pointed out.
“Ah, yes, the stolen gemstone. I know you don’t think of me as all that attentive, but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed how she implied that she needed the powers of the stone in order to help us.”
“Or she might have been simply telling the truth,” she replied. “In any case, she was quite clear that she would not help us until it was returned to her.”
“Maybe it belongs to the giants by right, and she’s just using us...”
“You do raise an important concern,” Lok rumbled from where he stood a few paces distant. As always, he looked as solid and imperturbable as always, particularly in contrast to the weariness that the others wore about them like their cloaks. “I know these giants, at least from the lore of the dwarves, from the North—they are a degenerate, wretched breed of creatures that dominates through strength and delights in the sufferings of weaker beings. But we should not be quick to generalize from that understanding, and should not be eager to slay without examining the situation first.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right, but something tells me that this is going to come down to blood—again. I just hope it isn’t ours this time.”
“We stick together and pool our efforts, and we can do this,” Dana said.
Cal suddenly stiffened, and raised his head toward the direction that they’d spent the morning hiking.
“What is it?” Dana asked, noticing his sudden shift of attention.
“I think you’re right, Benzan,” the gnome replied, wrinkling his nose in disgust. The wind had shifted, blowing down in a gust from the trail ahead, but none of the others could sense what the gnome’s keen nose had detected on the breeze. “We’re getting close—seems that the Oracle’s information about the proximity of their camp was accurate after all.”
“Well, we might as well get this over then,” Benzan said. “You all ready?”
“Remember, keep your eyes peeled,” Cal warned. “Our success here is based on catching them unawares, and giving us time to prepare our protections. If we’re caught in a sudden battle, things can go badly very quickly. Trust me—my people are used to fighting the Big Folk.”
“Yeah, you worry too much,” Benzan joked. But his expression was serious as they started out on the trail again, and he didn’t range as far ahead this time as they picked their way up to the crest of the ridge. In the bright light of the day, his ring of shadows was of little help, but he naturally gravitated to the available cover as they made their way forward, and he frequently signaled for them to wait while he darted up a length of the trail, his alert eyes scanning the surrounding terrain for signs of an ambush.
They passed another three hours in that manner, without seeing any sign of the enemy chosen for them by the Oracle. Occasionally they detected other traces on the air that reinforced the nearness of their goal, and at other times Benzan indicated another clue—a footprint in a patch of packed earth, or a discarded object that had clearly belonged to an owner of great size. They did not encounter any further warning markers, if the skull-staff had indeed been that, but that was not cause for them to relax their guard. The air grew still, as if even the winds themselves were growing quiet in anticipation of the confrontation that seemed imminent.
With each crest that they reached, it seemed as though another obstacle was presented—a nearly sheer incline a one point, at another a twisting gorge that they spent a full hour circumnavigating. Hours passed, and the morning gave way to afternoon as the sun passed its zenith and started its descent toward the western horizon.
Finally, though, they came to yet another steep rise, marked by a rugged but broad trail that twisted back and forth along the slope. Carefully they made their way up the path—it was as treacherous as it looked, but they were getting used to such hazards by now, and they did not dislodge any loose rocks or make any other betraying sounds. Again Benzan was the first to reach the top, and abruptly he froze, ducking down within a knot of boulders, signaling to the others to wait. Quickly, but careful to remain unseen from beyond the crest, he made his way back to them.
“What is it?” Cal whispered.
“Looks like we found their camp. There’s another gorge on the far side of the ridge, a bowl-shaped canyon with a big open space below. There’s a big cave in one of the canyon walls, and a crude camp of sorts set up right in front. I saw... one of them briefly... ugly bugger, the Oracle was right about that...”
“All right. Let’s go... carefully,” Cal said. “I’ll make you invisible, Benzan—it’s not the kind that persists after you attack, but it’ll last longer. Dana, if there’s anything you have that’ll last more than a few minutes, now would be the time to use it as well.”
The mystic wanderer nodded. “Benzan, give me your quiver. Lok, you as well.” While Cal called upon his protective stoneskin, Dana cast a spell that greatly enhanced the efficacy of their arrows with divine magic. After returning the missiles to Lok and Benzan, Cal cast his invisibility spell on the tiefling, and they set out once more, cautiously.
“I’ll be close by,” Benzan’s voice came out of the air ahead of them. “If I see anything, I’ll signal with a whistle.”
“All right. Be careful,” Cal replied.
Once they reached the crest, they could all see the camp in the dell below. The canyon was ringed by fifty-foot cliffs along much of its perimeter, but there were also numerous places where a steep but navigable slope offered access to the canyon floor below.
The giant camp was clearly delineated, with piles of trash and pits that reeked of discarded refuse even from their vantage point radiating outward from the dark entrance of the cave. Nothing moved that they could see, although it was clear from their angle that the cave penetrated some distance back into the solid rock of the far cliff face.
“Gah, what a stench,” Dana said, covering her nose.
“Benzan, you said you saw one of them?” Cal asked, keeping his voice pitched low so as not to travel.
“Yeah, I think he went into the cave,” Benzan’s voice came from nearby. “Big sucker,” he repeated.
“All right, let’s go, but stay alert.”
“I think it’s time for some better mobility, just in case,” Dana said. She closed her eyes and called upon the power of her goddess, and after a brief prayer lifted off of the ground to hover a few feet beside them. She drifted down the path while the others pressed on afoot, and they reached the canyon floor in a few minutes without incident.
Slowly, they crossed toward the camp and the cave mouth. As they drew nearer, the stench redoubled, and they could see that there were many bones among the refuse piled carelessly around the perimeter of the canyon.
“Hsst!” came a warning from ahead, but even as Benzan’s alert reached them, they could all hear it—a rumbling noise from within the cave, punctuated by a single sharp sound of metal striking metal.
Before they could react, they became aware of movement along the ridge that surrounded the canyon. The companions drew together in another defensive knot as a number of massive forms rose into view.
The giants were huge, cumbersome creatures, each standing at least fourteen feet in height. They looked almost human at first glance, despite their size, but on closer examination it was clear that the resemblance was only cursory. Each of the creatures was disfigured in a unique and disturbing way, from the hunched back and mismatched arms of one, to the drooping and uneven facial features of a second, to the bowlegged, broken-jointed walk of another. Despite their deformities and size, however, they made little noise as they took up positions on the crest overlooking the canyon, which indicated how they’d managed to come up behind the companions without alerting them. There were five in all, a collection of freaks whose common feature was the malicious delight in their eyes as they regarded the little beings that had invaded their demesne. Each was clad in ragged, noisome furs that mercifully covered parts of their misshapen bodies, and each bore a heavy club that might have once been the trunk of a considerable tree.
“Well, looks like we’ve walked into yet another trap,” Dana said, her acid tone resembling Benzan’s too closely.
As the two groups regarded each other, a sixth giant rose into view atop the ridge. Even before it had come fully into sight, it was obvious that this one was the leader. Its face looked like someone had bludgeoned it into a smashed mess, but it stood easily three or four feet taller than the others, and its thick arms and legs seemed like pillars of solid muscle. It carried a staff that could have served as the mast of a coastal raker, but their attention was primarily drawn to the jewel that it wore around its neck.
The bright daylight seemed drawn to that ornament, and it flickered almost eagerly as they watched. The round opalescent stone, almost the size of a man’s head, was held in the center of a circle of crude, pounded iron the size of a tower shield, the whole strung around the giant’s throat by a necklace of thick chain links.
“Well, at least we won’t have to search for the Stone,” Lok said. He still held his axe, but as the giants had appeared he’d also unslung his heavy bow from its perch across his broad shoulders, ready to unleash a few of Dana’s empowered arrows before things came inevitably to close combat. Above and behind him, Dana’s earlier sarcasm was belied as she fervently called upon the divine favor of her patron to protect her.
The formorian leader pointed his massive staff at the companions and spoke something in a guttural, incoherent speech that none of them could grasp. The five others responded by shouted a crude refrain and pounding their heavy clubs against the ground.
“They don’t seem happy to see us,” Cal noted.
“Perhaps I can convince them to give up the gem without a fight,” Dana said. “If you can make it so that they can understand me.”
“Be careful,” Cal said, even as he sang the notes that empowered his tongues spell. He reached up and touched Dana on the ankle as the young woman lifted gently into the air once more, rising up toward the ridge where the giant leader stood. She kept her spear pointed down and to the side, holding up her other hand in an open gesture designed to avoid provoking the creatures. Cal, meanwhile, continued playing his melody, letting a constant stream of soothing notes drift up from his lute.
Dana had only moved about twenty feet closer—the enchantment powers of the mystic wanderer would only function at close range—when suddenly the formorian lifted both its arms high into the air, holding the staff above it like a brace. The jewel at its throat flashed as if in echo to that harsh cry, and Dana went flying backward as if struck. She quickly recovered, hovering about ten paces over her friends, spinning and bringing her spear up in a warding pose.
But the giants were already charging, moving down the steep slopes to come at the trapped adventurers from all directions.
