20 Nightal
As the morning of 20 Nightal breaks Kailute and Milan are arranging the fallen hordlings so as to appear that they perished in combat with the juvenile red dragon Rojanalathar and lighting them aflame with oil. Quilro adds some physical evidence to this by unleashing a barrage of fireballs against mound of corpses. The switchback is covered in scorched orcflesh and muck created by the magical heat.
DonBrapp and Fyrnlocke double hitch two of the abandoned wagons to their current wagons as he ponders the hoard that waits so close.
“Imagine elf, all the good the coin these wyrms have hoarded can do…”
After doing their best to sanitize and stage the battle site, the heroes make time for a meal and discussion as Milan and Tomas keep vigilant eyes outward for danger. The allure of a raid on a dragon hoard is irresistible to the Chosen of Vergadain although Quilro has some reservations.
Kailute studies the terrain for an advantage in concealing the group’s movement.
After making most use of the time to rest, study and heal the group moves northwest toward the general area of the dragon’s lair.
After moving over the broken snow-covered terrain for the better part of the day the party locates a protected dell on the upslope of a valley that affords some protection from the elements as well as concealment from the main travel route of the hordlings through the mountains.
The group establishes a lager in the dell where DonBrapp conjures filling food and drink before withdrawing to commune with his deity. After watches are established the exhausted group gathers under its fur sleeping rugs and immediately falls asleep.
Kailute is awoken silenty before dawn by Fyrnlocke, who signals to listen. The harsh language of boisterous giants can be heard carrying from up ahead in the clear air. The earlier flurries have subsided, but clouds still obscure a waxing moon.
The half-orc wakes the remaining heroes and alerts them to the approaching monsters.
“Vergadamt giants.” DonBrapp states grimly. “Needs be keeping one alive for information on the dragon-hole.” He states. Quilro leaps into the sky transforming once again into the form of a harpy. From above he observes two younger giants stumbling in the direction of the party from the northwest to the southeast.
“I can lure them here in another form.” Suggests Quilro. “WE’RE HEROES.” The dwarf snarls, his enmity against the larger monsters rising in his blood.
DonBrapp moves to wake the mage in training, but she rolls over unmoved and continues to sleep.
Kailute pulls the dire wolf cloak over his head and quietly moves into a snow covered copse of trees to observe the frost giants approach. Milan keeps his hounds quiet and contented even as the scent of drunken giants begins to float across the air.
The two giants are stumbling drunk, one in chain and armed with a axe while the other has banded mail, an enormous sword and a shield strapped across its back.
Attempting to appear in shadows, Harpy-Quilro is observed by the giants who stop to point and observe. The giant armed with a sword loses his balance and falls upon his shield flailing.
DonBrapp charges with the magical swiftness his boots allow. Misjudging his speed he hoists his hammer overhead and the momentum of his speed propels him forward, knocking him senseless on the rocky mountainside. Quilro and Kailute look on in horror as the stubby legs of the dwarf begin to bicycle frantically.
Banking for an angle the elf releases a magical lightning bolt that scorches the frost-men. A sickening damp burnt smell permeates the air.
One of the giants collects enough with to land an axe chop against the prone dwarf crushing while the other picks himself up and faces Fyrnlocke.
Kailute unleashes a flurry of blows cutting through the shoddy armor and slicing through a ligament in the brute’s off hand. The giant falls to a knee and holds his weapon arm out to protect from further blows.
The second giant flails and misses due to his inebriation.
The mage fires a volley of magical energy into the giant opposite Fyrnlocke, and the enormous monster falls back in recoil dead, his sword flying from his hand to land behind him.
The reek of whiskey is unmistakable, and the remaining giant turns sobbing over his lost companion.
“Orc, get from this brute all he knows of the dragons, and all his knows of Hillsafar hall.” DonBrapp snorts to Kailute.
The half-orc offers sympathy on his fallen friend, who is clearly confused about the orc in cahoots with a dwarf and elf.
The giant relates that they stole Snosra’s whiskey, who guards the approach to the entrance of Hillsafar Hall in a fort filled with tens of tens of giants. A great ice hole guards the approach to the dwarf-hole, but the young giant knows nothing of dragons. He pleads for a proper burial for his friend, and to take his armor.
DonBrapp presses for information about a secret entrance into Hillsafar hall. Quilro observes that the party does have the ability to bring his friend back to life, if not at the very least afford some healing. Convinced, the dwarf offers a smidge of healing. The stricken giant is amazed at the cleanliness, lack of odor, and dress of the “urban dwarf.”
Kailute, Milana and Fyrnlocke erect a cairn for the fallen giant while his grievously wounded friend looks on.
Kailute has the giant look at the map in an attempt to gather where the giants are concentrated to the west. The giant identifies the locations of a giant steading that guards the approaches to a glacial rift that sits atop the entrance to Hillsafar Hall. One could enter the glacial rift by avoiding the hill giant fort by climbing a mountain that blocks the valley approach. He also displays disdain for Hill Giant Chief Snosnra as the two companions had stolen his whiskey.
After contentious discussion in which Kailute makes a case to let the giant be it is agreed to slay the giant when he sleeps in order to ensure they are not accosted or alert any other monsterkin in the area. Once the cairn is built, Tomas provides a couple of healing spells and the giant collapses in exhaustion. After some rest, Kailute delivers a coup d’grace. Tomas looks on in amazement as Delnara rubs the sleep out of her eyes with amazement. The Dwarf scours the giant’s corpse for sundry personal treasure.
After spending the morning resting and studying spells, the party prepares the horses, wagons and dogs for movement toward the dragons lair. Quilro provides Petra an enscorcelled ring and his spell books for safe keeping. His charismatic charm binds the wayward vistani to his employ. Kailute and Fyrnlocke exchange blades.
The heroes leave the henchman back at the protected dell and move forward with Quilro flying above in his usual harpy form. An eery silence permeates the valley before the large cave opening. Two snow covered lumps roughly the size of demi-humans lay just outside the mouth. The snow and terrain appears disturbed by enormous creatures.
“Coin. I can smell it.” DonBrapp remarks.
Quilro shifts into the form of a bat and begins to creep along the roof. The companions creep invisibly forward, protected from magical flame by the grace of Vergadain.
A metallic murmur of an unintelligible dialect stops suddenly as the heroes enter the beginning of the huge cave.
“Who is there? Return thee son?” Calls out a voice in arcane common.
“Who are these hoomkins that disturb out lair?” speaks the maw of a gigantic ancient red dragoness.
“Come you to present our gifts?”
“Yes, we come to offer the phylactery of Azurthurax!” Kailute steps forward to parlay as the elf continues to creep along the ceiling.
DonBrapp tosses the jewel to Kailute, somewhat taken aback by the enormous piles of coin beyond the two wryms.
Examining the huge jewel, the female states “This is indeed a valuable gem… where is our son?”
Kailute prevaricates, blaming the giants and the horde for his current absence.
“You do not appear to be associate with those brutes… but I can scent great magical weapons upon you…” The two dragons eye each other, great schemes going unspoken between them.
“Know ye mighty wryms! Know you how much coin you possess?” DonBrapp brashly introduces himself and demands to count their coin, as Quilro’s featherfall ends abruptly and alerts the dragon to his presence.
“Did you not see your kinsman as the entrance?” The male asks, as both dragons creep forward menacingly.
“I have seen many dead dwarves, and taken inventory of vast sums of wealth AND NOW I AM HERE TO COUNT YOURS!” DonBrapp exclaims pointing forth Buzzkiller and lowering his shoulder to attack.
The female unleashes a lightning bolt against the charging dwarf and the male sinks several magical missiles into the half-orc.
Kailute flips his magical protection stone above his head and swings against the larger dragon sinking his magical axe into the scales. A magical flame repulses back but is absorbed by his protection.
Quilro invokes a spell toward the female as DonBrapp summons forth his companion elemental. The walls shake as pure elemental energy emerges from the floor to assault the dragon.
The male rakes his razor sharp claws against the dwarve’s shoulders as Fyrnlocke creeps forward.
The female wyrm shakes off the spell and hisses “Spellcasters.” She releases an enormous cloud of magical fire that envelops the elemental, dwarf and human thief.
The male rakes and bites the half-orc drawing deep wounds with his claws.
Kailute spins and delivers a counter blow as the earth elemental frenzies its rocky appendages against the wrym.
DonBrapp levels his weapon and unleashes a bolt of magical lightning as the elf invokes a magical shield.
Sensing danger the male dragon slashes at the elemental as his mate attacks Kailute.
Quilro takes flight to set up an attack from behind the dragon, disturbing some coins during his landing.
The barbarian lands a flurry of sword swipes and the sound of breath being drawn is heard by all.
Sensing his moment, Quilro threads a precision stab of his sword into the female who shrieks in agony. Her tail recoils in pain and the elf is able to leap before it knocks him over.
Another cloud of magical fire fills the battlespace as the male dragon immolates Fyrnlocke, the half-orc and DonBrapp who are all somewhat insulated due to magical protections.
The dwarf releases another lightning bolt as the sharp rock tentacles pierce its underbelly. The male appears to rise up on his haunches before collapsing in a final death gasp at the feet of the half-orc.
Infuriated by the death of her mate the female breaths harrowing gouts of flame against the concentration of heroes in front of her, Fyrnlocke taking ever more burning damage.
The earth elemental appears to disappear into the ground before leaping from the floor to encase the dragon’s forearm and snapping her bones by changing its own shape. The sound of snapping bone and sinew is unnerving.
DonBrapp lays healing magic upon Kailute as Quilro cast a magical bolt against the wyrm, and she wails in agony as death seems imminent.
Energized the half-orc delivers an upswing blow to the dragoness who expires with blood issuing from her opened throat.
“START COUNTING!” Yells the dwarf, revelling in the sight of an enormous hoard yet to be accounted for.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:57, Thu 01 Apr 2021.
