Noon 27 Nightal

As the dust settles in great hall of Snosra the Lord of the Steading is held at the edge of a longsword by Budrag, the lithely muscled half-orc, half ogre and chief of the Red-ear clan.

As the fighting ceases, matters of internal structure arise in discussion.  The heroes kick over some chairs and casually begin discussing the technical corporate structure of the HoW partnership, and policy issues pertaining to the use of negative material energy to augment their combat power.  DonBrapp discusses Fyrnlocke’s partnership, which is a full one regarding treasure but carries no such weight on policy.  Kailute scurries to grab his dropped weapons from the far side of the great hall.

“We need to move fast!”  Quilro exhorts.  “Find out what this disgusting beast knows, and move quick, light, and immediately!”

DonBrapp wants to detail a recovery party to fetch his scales and the wagons from the red dragon’s cave.

Kailute is inclined to allow the Red-ears to do as they will to Snosra.

The acrid scent of rendered magical lightning masks the scent of slaughter within the great hall.  Snosra snivels before the orc Captain, who looks with a wary eye upon the conversing heroes.

An enormous smoking hole in the roof admits the light of noon mildly shielded by winter clouds, illuminating the scores of dead monsterkin and the unblinking faces of the newly raised dead, compelled to serve the Coinmaster’s faithful servant.

“What say now Snosra?  Who holds the whip?”  Taunts Budrug looking down from the table.  Snosra chatters his compliance to Budrag as the remaining Red-ears fall upon the remaining corpses and food.  While some pillage the dead the overriding concern is clearly scavenging the remaining food.

The solemn repose is broken as Garlen and Graylen charge into the room, both rippling with newfound muscle growth.  Both shriek “I’M GONNA KILL A GIANT!”  “NO!  I’M GOING TO SLAUGHTER A GIANT!” while good-naturedly throwing punches at one another’s magically enhanced bulk.  They have ingested their potions of enlarge and are much enjoying the additional strength.

“Another victory for the elves, Quilro!?”  Tanthalas shouts, prancing in behind the lads and jumping up to a table.  Attempting to unsheathe his blade in one move his wrist slips and the sword flies against the northern wall.
“Really hate that guy.”  Quilro mutters under his breath before flashing a barely genuine hatesmile in the elf’s direction.

DonBrapp begins to confer with Durnkin to most efficiently to count coins and other items of note.
Quilro nods at Fyrnlocke who gives a knowing smile as the dwarves descend upon the fallen monsters like scavenging automatons, lining up each corpse as best they can after carefully searching for coin and items.  The four smiths collect a total of 46 platinum, 167 gold, 397 silver, a variety of giant-sized weapons and the remains of a great feast.

Romulus’ remains are a gooey pile of gore marked by bits of high-quality robes, bits of spell components and pouches.  Zenghyi’s minion has 427 platinum, 234 gold, 2 amethysts (500gp each), and a scepter carved of bone inlaid with giant runes of burnished silver with a fist-sized pale jade gem inlaid atop the shaft.  The item once had magical activity but is now inert and singed by electricity.

“Ya know wots impervious to electrical energy, elf?”  DonBrapp asks, kicking over the cloud giants burned remains.  “The divine.”

Noting the absence of any evidence of child-consumption, Quilro defends his assertion noting that you never find a skin of wine around one who cannot control their drink; thus the lack of baby corpses confirms the infanticide of the horde.

“Probably turned them into jerky!” Tanthalas sneers.

Kailute rolls his eyes.

There is a large tome bound in silver plates with vellum pages, which appears to inform the reader about the inner planes, as well as a blue honed bone giant-sized dagger, a short sword to a human sized individual.  A book of Faffyrd’s poetry bound in red leather, as well as a platinum circlet that the dwarf recalled was on the giant’s head.

There is an onyx scroll-case among the remains.

Quilro sheaths his blade after wiping it on the tunic of a dead giant.

“Speak orc?” he inquires, climbing up aside Budrag to interrogate Snosra.

The beady eyes of the hill giant fearfully dart from elf to orc as he chatters “WHY SNOSRA?  WHY!?!”

“Speak, filth.  Or I will wear your skins.”  Budrag snarls.

The chieftain relays how Zenghyi promised his clan all of the Greyteeth (Galena) mountains for him to establish a steading to conduct raids into Damara and locate something called the “Arawngate.”  The fort was established, and the lich provided direction through Romulus who had magical means of communication.

Budrag offers his observations that the horde was directed to kill as many humans as possible, but not to take or hold any locations.  Just inflict misery.

Snosra explains the three local clans;  his, one under Grugnur the Frost Jarl and Galgonor Flamerock. He notes the other clans comprising Zenghyi’s horde;  Skullsmashers, Brokenteeth, Bloodwalkers, Bearfuckers, Heartsmashers. The chieftain reveals the location of the steading treasure hoard and its protective menagerie of manticores.

The cleric prepares the runes and incantations to pull Romulus’ soul from its transition to the after planes and compel it to communicate. Noticing the concern on Quilro’s brow, the cleric offers a few curt words of support.

“It’s the job, elf.  For good to prevail, some giants must die.  Some giants must rise… to serve.  Every coin counts.  Every coin must be counted!”

In the background, the two Bloodstone lads are breaking the giant-sized benches over one another with their newfound strength.

In an aside, Budrag nudges Kailute.  “Keep your eyes to that one.  He was captured among slavers and was almost certainly coordinating with humans to the east.”  The orc nods toward Tanthalas.

DonBrapp pulls forth the holy power of Vergadain while forcing the recently departed soul of the cloud giant delay its ascension to contend with the dwarf’s inquiries.

Angered, affronted and bewildered as his defeat from such lesser creatures, DonBrapp can feel the resistance of the soul’s response…  but the power of the Brapp compels thorough answers.

“Haughty words from a coin counter;  but I cannot deflect you.  I spoke with Zenghyi weekly through communing with the circlet.  The effort was draining.  Regular dispatches were sent with courier.”  Seven days hence will the lich expect a communique from his lieutenant.

Zenghyi is a lich originally from Thay who has agreed to feed the souls of those who perish in the Galenas to Orcus; raising an undead army and hoping to establish the conditions to unleash the Prince of Undead and his army upon the Moonsea. The image of a badly decomposed skeleton, bones missing framed by the rotten tatters of a crimson robe.  A dark stone circlet is worn upon the skeletal beings skull, and eight jewel encrusted rings upon the bony fingers.
Romulus identifies the giant sized dagger (+4 short sword) as a family heirloom, and attempts to shame DonBrapp into returning it to Romulus’ wife Benadiir.

It is known that Zenghyi does not like spiders.

“Unto the company of the other demon consorts you enjoy!”  DonBrapp releases the giant’s soul, and Kailute taps the onyx scroll tube revealing a missive from Zenghyi.

Romulus,

Somehow, Barovia has fallen.  Be warned, an Elf, Dwarf, and Orc have somehow overthrown the most dangerous ally we had.  They appear to hail from Hillsfar or Zhentil Keep.  I suspect the Zhents; but do not rule out Thay.
Worry not of Grugnur.  He and his kin will exterminate the dwarves in their hall.  Snosra is too stupid for much good.  Keep his focus on the excavation and the harvest of blood.  More bloodshed is more power.
Our agents the Monk A. and Cavalier D. will continue to stoke the chaos.  Encourage the humans to fight over whatever surface claims they desire;  if necessary give way if it will keep their efforts above the ground.  No interference should be suffered of the awakening.

Most will take to camp for the cold seasons.  Probe and raid to keep the souls harvesting.  More bloodshed is more power.

Once the Arawngate is located, I will need to know.  Risk no delay in informing me.

The mountains shall be forever giantsgard as the horned one has promised.

Z

Tanthalas is passed out on one of the tables, snoring loudly.

Garlen and Graylen are voraciously hungry, having returned to their former sizes, now horribly bruised and much of their clothing burst through during their burly transformation.

Durnkin and the Oriothar dwarves fan out through the steading to further gather and inventory Snosra’s treasure.
The heroes make their living spaces in the guest rooms of the steading, finding the giant-sized beds more than comfortable for the party.

Much of the remaining steading is filled with children, non-combatants or the corpses that Budrag and the Red-ears slew on their way up through the eastern passageways.

Aside from the hole caused from the flame strike, the steading itself remains sturdy and intact. The steading is approximately 15 miles southwest of Hillsafar Hall, and the frost giants guarding the approaches.

Kailute and Durnkin depart back toward the dragon cave with the Oriothar to recover the wagons and the henchmen.
DonBrapp and Quilro throw their gear atop the giant beds, and collapse with exhaustion before turning their minds to study and spell replenishment.

Fyrnlocke releases the human prisoner from the cells below; the individual is clearly touched of mind and babbles continually about dogs attacking him.  The party gives him food and clothing and sends him on his way into the mountains.

The dwarf pens a letter to Prelate Samson in Heliogabalus and asks Durnkin to detail two of the Oriothar to carry the message to the capital.

Garlen and Graylen related that Brother Aldric is the Bloodstone Abbey of Lathander’s leading priest, and he hasn’t been seen much during the day as of late.

Quilro and Fyrnlocke chat about the need for haste and speed before Zenghyi learns any more of the party’s location or danger.

Kailute returns, reunited with his war bar and the rest of the party and henchmen.  Both wagons, Milan and Petra and the hounds are back.

Quilro gifts the mageling a scroll of Tenser’s disc and welcomes her back with a professional handshake.
Milan had gathered some local herbs for a tisane that assisted with calming and sleep.

The heroes agree that investigating the gate below is probably best postponing until the imminent threat from Zenghyi’s horde is better addressed.

DonBrapp spends hours absorbing his tomes on planar travel, becoming familiar with some of the basic mechanics and risks of ethereal and astral travel.

As the party falls to sleep that evening, each awakes in an overwhelmingly red, mist filled cavern.  Steam and smoke rise from lava pools, but each of them feels not quite corporeal.  Kailute notes a strange tether of magical energy, perhaps anchoring him to another reality.  The time seems to move slower than normal.

Thirty feet away four gaunt and lithe humanoids appear to be skulking toward an opening in the mist and smoke-filled chasm.  Their skin is pallid, and in hues from yellow to light orange and all move with an ethereal grace that would appear elven, if it were not so obvious these creatures are not elves.  They are armored in a yellowish gray armor almost appearing to be honed of some sort of bones.

The group appears to be sneaking toward a passageway in the southwest.

Kailute expresses telepathically the intent to follow the group, and the rest of the heroes hear it even though no sound is uttered.

DonBrapp grasps the soil, a dusty mix of coal dust and black rocks.  Sensing his ability to move in all directions, the dwarf wills himself into the air.

The floor of the next space is littered with bones of obscure and grotesque monsters on the floor.

Quilro casts ESP and is amazed at the power and clarity of the spell.  Probing the creatures mind its intelligence and focus on task is nearly overwhelming.  The entity is concerned with stealth, observation and the retrieval of information.

One of the githyanki is clearly the leader, with a silver sword looped through rings upon his back.

Utter silence comes over Quilro’s ESP consciousness, and the leader being turns to examine the area where the heroes appear to be observing yet making no indication of detection.

DonBrapp attempts to share his insight with Quilro regarding movement, but the thoughts come out so scrambled the elf is mystified as to what was being communicated.

Midnight 29 Nightal
The group observes a squad of githyanki probing the interdimensional reading room of an enormous abyssal creature.
A 15’ winged tusked demon flanked by type IV demons sits atop an ornate onyx throne.  The entire room is filled with books, and the walls are lined from floor to ceiling with immaculately organized shelves.  Tomes of all sort and sizes are displayed, and several are out on a series of tables about the room.

An enormous flange sword, standing about six feet in length rests at the foot of the central demon, while two others chat idly in their booming language.

Magical globes of darkness and silence drop throughout the area, and one of the gith darts forward to the library walls.

“Klavikus!  Who is this to invade your reading space?!”

The three demons wield elemental whips of fire energy, bursting and crackling with elemental flame.

One of the gith warriors begins to blink in and out magically, searching the bookshelves.

The demon lands a strike on the gith warrior mid-blink, but is issued a serious wound upon re-blinking onto the weapon.

DonBrapp notes this is likely a pocket dimension of the Abyss.

A high pitched “BREEEEK” from the area of the bookshelves suggests one of the ethereal warriors has discovered what they were searching for.

One of the gith disappears before taking damage.

One has its arm pulled off from elemental whip.

“Fools!  We could have learned much.  I must report this to Zenghyi!  He must know someone has found an entry unto the tower!”

“You think we can will ourselves back to consciousness?” Kailute thinks to DonBrapp, who attempts to punch the barbarian on the nose but misses significantly, initiating a slow spin.

Leaping to grab the sword, Kailute is filled with a strange sense of energy and the party awakes in the giant guest wing back in the steading.  The half-orc clutches a finely honed singe piece of magical silver, inlaid with runes and a bone cuirass recovered from the githyanki.

Early morning 29 Nightal.

The party awakens from it’s shared dream observing the half-orc’s newest acquired set of equipment.

As the group stirs from their experience, Tanthalas complains “For the love of Corellon, can you please be silent.  I am exhausted and famished.  Some quiet.  PLEASE.”

DonBrapp rolls back over to sleep.

That morning the group discusses their next moves.  Two of the Oriothar dwarves have departed east for Heliogabalus.
Kailute proposes returning the undead giants to their eternal rest.  They move slow, spell, and are likely toying with moral convictions of the party.

A vote is called and the majority votes against continuing with undead giants.

Moving northwest through the mountains the party finds an abundance of tracks;  humanoid and monsters.  Mostly the traffic is on foot but there is some evidence of smaller mounted patrols.

The next day, the final day of the year the wind picks up, blowing out of the northeast.  Kailute and Shuos can smell the scent of cookfires on the wind.

Quilro polymorphs into an invisible harpy and takes wing to the sky.  The elf observes a camp inhabited by armed humanoids.

Over the ridge from where the party has made a temporary stopping point a camp is spotted.
A group of mostly humans in mixed leather form a loose perimeter around a core group of humans and a dwarf dressed in better quality equipment huddled around a fire.  Several outlying fires mark the perimeter, and groups huddle around them seeking warmth from the biting winds.  The livery of a blue bear is sewn into the tabard of one of the humans, and several warhorses are hobbled near the fires.  The blue bear is a symbol of Morov, one of the Baronies of Damara.

The saddlebags and backpacks of all look laden with recent loot.

The groups look more interested in their cookfires and drink then maintaining an effective and disciplined security perimeter.

Kailute counsels parlay rather than attack.  The half-orc, Fyrnlocke and DonBrapp advance deliberately toward the central fire pit.

The wind picks up velocity, masking the scent and approach of the group.

Kailute picks up his pace, leading the group as Fyrnlocke darts next to a boulder, hiding in the shadows.
Milan and the henchmen make a defensive position around the wagons.

“Who goes there?!  Orc?  What finds you here?” The group looks up nervously.

“Travelers from Barovia, looking for solace from the cold!”

The barbarian introduces his group and explains they sought warmth and companionship by the fire.

“Have you seen any giants or goblins?”  The human in the bear tabard asks somewhat haughtily.

A scarred and red bearded dwarf is sitting on a stump, slapping the back of another armored warrior.

“Join us then, friends.” States the middle-aged human, apparently the leader in the blue bear tabard.

He eyes Kailute suspiciously before introducing himself as Darkon third born.

The half-orc relates his worldly travels and the human asks “What word from Zenghyi?”

“Zenghyi marches.  He hopes the hill giants will keep the blood up in the mountains.” Kailute offers, somewhat tentatively but with growing confidence.

“Do you have orders from Zenghyi?” the human asks with some apprehension.

“I was unaware he had connections…”  the half-orc attempts.

“Do I look like a filthy goblin to you?”

The red bearded dwarf bursts out laughing.  “The orc got ye there, didn’t ee Darkon?”  He yells slapping his knee in a drunken outburst.

“We gonna give ‘em air, or we just gonna skin ‘em?”  he follows, somewhat oblivious.

DonBrapp recognizes the human from Romulus’ missive, and steps aside and thumbs the handle of his axe.
Fyrnlocke emerges from the shadows and putting his hand on the shoulder of the red-bearded dwarf says “We’ll drink well, friend.  May I?”  and grabbing the skin takes a big glug.  His eyes bulge at the power of the liquor, but after choking it down he hands it back to the seated warrior.

“Little dwarf, do you believe you could skin me?” Kailute asks, absently resting his palms on the hilts of his blades.

The dwarf bolts up, nearly losing his balance and spits “Not only CAN I, but HAVE I skinned many of your king Gruumshvor!”  One of the human veterans walks between Fyrnlocke and rests a firm hand upon the dwarf to defuse the situation.

Darkon surveys the party.  “It appears you have attracted some low lifes to our camp.  That your camp wife, dwarf?”  he asks, indicating Petra.

DonBrapp responds in the negative.  Launching into a demanding screed about Barovian hospitality, Kailute counters with a mention of Strahd who would only send his best and most effective agents.

Darkon extends the hospitality of his camp at the mention of Strahd and apologizes for the behavior of his companions.

Kailute calls Fyrnlocke forward to share some of the more precious liquor they have looted.
Darkon entreats Fyrnlocke with stories of his lauded family name and interests in lineage to the Damaran throne.
“Blood for the gods of blood.”

“Deep tunnels and stout hearts.”  The red-bearded dwarf turns his drunken attention to DonBrapp.

The two dwarves converse in their mother tongue.  Know ye of the clan Oriothar?
Only whispers.  We have just traveled up.

Greedy bastards the Oriothar.  Sittinig upon veins…  the good strong witch king will release it all for the lgory of those who remain!

Darkon steps forward “So you are a dwarf of the cloth? My man Fenris here needs healing.”  A bandage upon his shoulder and scratches and punches to the face.

Seems he was liberating food from a barn.

DonBrapp provides healing to the human .  “May the coin flip well for you my son.”

The group offers roast bear, venison and dried fruit.

We move back east at first light.

We move north to investigate the horde at first light
.
We are the first of Strahd’s forces pushing east.

“The plans are all coming together?”

Darkon describes his continuing efforts to raid, mentioning Waukeshire.

“I’ve not eaten a baby in many a day.” Kailute warily eyes Quilro.

Fyrnlocke visibly stifles a laugh before disappearing into the night near the henchmen.

Kailute surveys the opposition.

Quilro from above can read the situation;  watching Fyrnlocke move toward the rear.

The red-bearded dwarf is passed out.  One of the knights asks Kailute what it is like in Vaasa.
Small talk about how quick the horde can move.

Things die down into the night.  Fyrnlocke remains in the shadows as the wind continues to blow.
Fenris is assigned first watch having been healed.

DonBrapp mentions to the half-orc that they should keep Darkon alive while quietly casting prayer and backing away casually.

Kailute fakes taking a piss and attempts to signal to Quilro to backstab Fenris.

The wind is punctured by a release of magical lightning and fireballs against the sleeping raiders.

The sweet stench of wet denim awakens the camp from the surprise attack of the HoW.

Darkon groans with pain being the only one remaining alive.

Shuos leaps in front of Petra dramatically taking one of the arrows for Petra.

The outer perimeter scurries to cover the activities within.

Quilro suffers a ring a spell turning defense from the dwarf who awakens.

DonBrapp levels a lightning bolt from Buzzkiller through several of the sleeping warriors.

Kailute attempts to cripple the dwarf with a called shot.  He brings his sword down and shorns the leg from the dwarf who attempts to grab his axe but spins in the snow.

Fyrnlocke spears one of the fighter-thieves.

One of the thieves falls under a volley of magic missiles from Petra. The thieves fan out defensively.

DonBrapp calls forth sticks to snakes.

One of the warriors takes an attacking snake, bites its head off and charges toward DonBrapp.

Shuos leaps at Darkon as Kailute cuts the arms from one of the humans before turning back to the central fight.
The group to the north begins to flee.

DonBrapp unleashes a minor flash of electricity as his snakes continue to press the attack.
Kailute charges the elf and kills him.

Quilro launches a volley of missiles into the webbed warriors as the rest of HoW attempt to clean up the bandit assassin patrol of which three probably surprised.

Darkon, the dwarf and a webbed thief remain alive.