The Red Hand of Doom (3.5)

[Dexam]

Keda looks thoughtful at Chatty's comment, then at Alastor. "We do not know if this giant is already allied with the hobgoblins. We must proceed with caution - I will provide a hidden escort, friend Alastor."

Keda slips off the trail into the undergrowth, circling towards the giant but keeping Alastor within a short dash if aid was required.

Spoiler: OOC

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Hide: (1d20+10)[29]
Move Silently: (1d20+10)[17]
Spot: (1d20+10)[15]
Listen: (1d20+8)[25]

[Toliudar]

Chatty

Chatty takes a moment to erase her words on the ground, then slips off into the underbrush on the side of the trail opposite Keda. Hunkering down in the underbrush, she waits and listens.

Spoiler: OOC

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Hide: (1d20+22)[35]
Move Silently: (1d20+18)[24]
Listen: (1d20+5)[17]
Spot: (1d20+15)[18]

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

The giant got to its feet.

This rather illustrated two things: that it was, indeed, taller than ten feet in height, and that Alastor was, unquestionably, not. The giant didn't so much stand as tower.

It had been blinking as it looked around, apparently searching for the source of the noise in its ears, but narrowed its gaze when it spotted Alastor. It wearily unlimbered a club that more resembled an uprooted tree, holding it loose by its side. "Little man. Half man. Won't kill Warklegnaw. All Warklegnaw's kin gone, won't get me." it rumbled, loud enough that Alastor could certainly hear it - it was speaking Common, surprisingly. But - most surprisingly and most encouragingly - it didn't start towards Alastor.

Yet.

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Marginalia

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A.A. King, make a Diplomacy check.

[A.A.King]

Alastor is a little surprised at first that the Giant found him so quickly. He'd hoped to get a reply before the Giant started looking for him. He composes himself quickly though and puts his hands in front of him to show that he isn't holding a weapon before slamming them on his belly “Half-man? True. Only half as tall yet almost just as wide” he said jokingly in the hope to defuse the tension. "I don't want to fight, Warklnegnaw. You would crush me before I had a chance to walk away. I am nobody's killer" Alastor slammed his tummy again to emphasis his lack of physical ability "I'd certainly stand no chance against a giant"

"I am not strong and I am not dangerous. What I am is tired from walking. I am not here to fight nor kill, I am just here to sit and maybe talk. I've got good stories to tell and letting me sit would mean not being alone"

Spoiler: OOC

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The penatly from dying means I no longer have a bonus to diplomacy, nor Diana's Aura to help, so this maybe a though one. Alastor always seems to be more convincing when he is lying than when he is trying to be diplomatic

Diplomacy: (1d20)[1]

Let's hope Tymora is kind to me today

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic


Complication Dice: 2 of 6

"Warklegnaw all alone! Live alone! Die alone!" The giant's voice echoed down the trail, the voice rattling in its throat. It was a shadow of the ear-shattering roar the creature might once have given.

Warklegnaw brandished its (admittedly, massive) club in Alastor's direction, but still didn't advance. The slow, uninspired way in which it did thrust the club around clearly gave the impression the creature was sick. "Kin gone! No stories left to tell! You go! Smash you like paste if stay!"

[A.A.King]

Alastor is unshaken by the way the way Warklegnaw swings his club around. He doesn't get the feeling that Warklegnaw actually wants to swings his club at him, or that if he wanted to he could do it with the strength he used to have. Alastor sits down on the ground. Not carefully, he jumps falls down on his butt in an exaggerated way to show that his legs are just done walking.

"You are wrong Warlegnaw, there is always another story to tell! You say your kin is gone, did someone 'get' them? Did they fight bravely until the end? That sounds like a story worth telling, keeps their memory alive!!

I know what it is like to lose kin, I've been alone for long stretches of my life. Three dear friends of mine died just yesterday and I haven't even had the chance yet to properly grief them yet. Losing people is though, but it is no reason to stay alone and it is certainly no reason to try and die alone. Take it from someone who has very briefly been there, it's much better to try and stay alive!

Are you sick? Is that it? Is something wrong with you and is that why you are talking about death? I've got a priest, a healer, that could examine you. Maybe fix you. You don't have to be alone! You don't have to die alone!! Just TALK to me, Warklegnaw , about what happened to you!!! I can always leave later if you want me too, but you have to give your new friend some time to catch his breath!"

at which point Alastor lets out a big sigh to emphasize just how tired he is from all the walking he has done so far (which isn’t exactly untrue given the fact that when Pogo was alive he did very little walking on journeys like this)

Spoiler: OOC

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Lets try this again, hopefully he will open up a little and we can find out more about this guy. I feel sorry for him, I don't want to have to fight him.

Diplomacy: (1d20)[11]

Also, if he does become actively hostile and genuinely tries to smack my face in with that club Alastor will try to quick draw his whip and do the old "substitution" trick. Use my wand of Benign Transposition to switch myself with Arendi or Vokon who can tank a hit like that much better.

[danielxcutter]

"Maybe I should use those scrolls on him." said Arendi. "It won't make him any better, but making sure it doesn't get worse for a day should be better than nothing. And if this works out and we all live, I'm sure I can spare a Remove Disease spell."

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Trail
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

Warklegnaw took a step back when Arendi spoke. There was a moment of hostility in his face, but then a look of confusion and -- was it some sort of resignation? -- as the giant noticed the scale-and-bones symbol on the death cleric's armour. He still brandished the club, but his voice, when he spoke once more, had a heartbreaking chord of sadness singing in it. "Leave Warklegnaw 'lone. Death cleric come, say last rites to old Warklegnaw? Poor Warklegnaw alone, die alone, death priest say rites over Warklegnaw's bones."

[danielxcutter]

Arendi cupped his hands over his mouth and said "I'd rather not have to do that, Wrinkle... Warklegnaw? We're not like Myrkul's lot."

[Toliudar]

Chatty

Stepping from the bushes, Chatty nods a greeting to Warklegnaw. She takes advantage of Arendi's weirdly placed hands to magically inscribe a note onto the palm of his gauntlet, so that he could see but it wouldn't be obvious to others.

Tell him you'll look at his condition and try to heal him

Spoiler: OOC

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Chatty tries to use friendly and open body language to aid another Alastor and Arendi's message of sort-of-friendship. (1d20-2)[1]

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Giant's Home
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

The giant's ancient face creased in what looked, at this distance, like a sad smile. "Warklegnaw dying. Warklegnaw knows death coming. Warklegnaw can hear death god singing from little cleric's soul. No' matter whether Myrkul of the skull face or Kel'vor of the pale face. Death come in many faces, but always come just th' same. Like did to all of Warklegnaw's kin." He seemed to be thinking something over for a moment, but then gave a great sigh. The club dropped to the ground, and, shoulders drooping, Warklegnaw turned back to his fire, beckoning Alastor and Arendi forward. "Come, death. Come sit by Warklegnaw's fire. Maybe death might wait a good meal before having to see to Warklegnaw's bones."

The giant dropped back on his rear with a thump that shook the nearest trees, awaiting them.

[Aracor]

Vokon will step out of the brush and join everyone else at the fire.

Brave warrior, you show honor to your tribe by not being a burden to your people. But if the smell of this rothe is any indication, you may not be helpless quite yet.

[Dexam]

Keda returns his annulat to its clip and steps from the undergrowth.

"Greetings Warklegnaw, I am Keda Frost Moon, and I offer you the Trade Peace. What I offer for trade is my Words."

Keda walks over and crouches by the fire. "You have been given a great gift, Warklegnaw," he says, watching the fat from the roasting rothe drip into the flames. "You are dying. In my Home, the Ever-Changing, death comes suddenly... crushed by stone, burned by fire, encased in ice, flayed by howling winds, drowned in magma, mud, sand, or acid, killed by slaadi, demons, or oshac... while all lives are given meaning, most deaths are without meaning."

He looks up and stares Warklegnaw in the face. "But to know your time is coming and to have the chance to choose a death with meaning? Truly, you are to be envied! So what do you choose to do with your gift, Warklegnaw? What meaning will you give your death?"

[A.A.King]

Alastor gets up from the ground, surprised by how resigned the giant is to his apparent faith, and follows him. He sits close to the giants and listens to his companions trying to talk some life back into Warklegnaw.

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Giant's Home
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

As the group slowly came out from the brush and cautiously walked in towards the fire, Warklegnaw gave a hmph of what seemed like resigned amusement, beckoning them in.

The ruin of the steading was a sadder and more tumbledown echo of Vraath Keep, save for the signs of habitation that presumably had come from Warklegnaw's presence. There were no bodies, of course, but it also looked as though the forest giant hadn't been especially keen to rebuild or rework the structure; some of the great, broken spears of wood which had been the wall still bore ancient, black scorch marks and craterlike impact scars. From the look of some of the oddly-textured boulders lying around, it seemed Amery Vraath's long-gone mercenary army had hit the place with flaming catapult ammunition. It would have been a terrible onslaught - matched, perhaps, only by the terrible last day at Vraath Keep.

Warklegnaw was shrugging at Keda's questions when his gaze fell more closely on Chatty. The wererat was fully visible for the first time. And in particular, so were the gauntlets she'd been wearing that they'd recovered from Vraath Keep. The ones with a stylised 'V' scribed upon them in beautiful gold filigree.

The giant snarled in shock. Then roared with anger. Even slow as he was, he was still quick enough to grab the great club he held and scramble to his feet, this time with the circus more or less fully within the range of a swing. "MAN-FLESH MURDERER!" he roared, stepping back. His voice ricocheted off the trees and the ruins like hard thumps of a drumbeat. "THE MARK OF THE MURDERERS! YOU COME TO FINISH OLD WARKLEGNAW! KILLED ALL MY KIN! WARKLEGNAW SHOW YOU HOW HARD HE DIE!"

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Marginalia

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And if you needed any more proof that Warklegnaw's likely of the same family that destroyed Vraath Keep after being decimated by said Vraaths, well, here it is. What do you do?

[danielxcutter]

"What the Fugue are you - oh. Ooooooohhhhhh," said the deathwarden in realization, looking at the giant. "The giants those stupid Vraaths were trying to kill off were YOUR tribe, weren't they?"

He pulled off his helm and spat on the ground, and let out a bitter laugh. "Hah! Guess it makes sense those hobgoblins were squatting there - they weren't happy to leave their neighbors alone either, were they? Maybe the soldiers were just doing their job, but Amery Vraath might just have gotten what he deserved."

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Giant's Home
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

Warklegnaw's face wrinkled in confusion. His great head, like some oversized bust of a forgotten god, swung back and forth between Arendi and Chatty. At least the club wasn't swinging - yet - but it was apparent the giant's bewilderment wasn't going to last long. "What? Why you wear gloves with murderer's mark on them? Warklegnaw would know! Ghosts of Twistusk kin want to know!" His voice was echoing out into the jungle.

[A.A.King]

"Please, Warlkegnaw, calm yourself" Alastor said. Sitting as close to the giant as he did, the yelling was not pleasant on his ears "it's hard to explain things when you are in this state."

"You say that this mark, this V shape, means something to you? Well it means nothing to us. We found it. If you say it belongs to the people who killed your people then well, we killed the people who killed your people. Or we killed the people who killed the people who killed your people. Or we killed the people who found a place that used to belong to the people who killed your people but who themselves had nothing to do with the people who killed your people. It's not quite clear to us how they got these gloves in the first place."

Alastor pauzed for a bit, and realised that that might have just confused the giant rather than explained it.

"What I do know is that WE did not kill YOUR people, this is NOT our mark. It's just a good pair of gloves we found and decided to keep. Once again, I'd like to ask you to tell us what happened to you that made it so you were here alone. It may just be that we have a common enemy."

[danielxcutter]

"Yeah, the Vraaths are gone. And to be honest, we didn't even know about them until a few days ago."

Arendi paused. "Speaking of gauntlets, actually... wasn't there a huge one big enough for Chatty to sleep in or something? Too large for Vokon but it'd be just the right size for a giant..."

[Toliudar]

Chatty

Now that the gauntlet had been brought up, Chatty cautiously withdrew it from the bag of holding and lay it down on the ground in front of her. She cautiously backs up, hoping that this doesn't set off Warklegnaw any more than her own pilfered gloves already had.

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Giant's Home
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

Warklegnaw's fierce expression disappeared when he saw the gauntlet on the ground. His club dropped to his side - and then to the ground, with a thump, as the old giant reached with hands the size of boat anchors to the old piece of armour. Old, gnarled fingers almost tenderly curled around the metal. He straightened, raising the frowning, tusked mouth daubed on its back to his forehead. The mark touched the tattoo between his eyes, and the closest members of the circus could see the old giant close his eyes for a moment, and a long sigh go through his ancient frame.

The giant lowered the gauntlet, slipping it onto his massive fist. And looked at Alastor. "What common enemy does little man say he and Warklegnaw have?"

[Dexam]

Keda sprang back as the giant roared, drawing an annulat ready to be hurled in defence at a moments notice. He looks in puzzlement at Warklegnaw and the members of the circus, then lowers his weapon as explanations are given and the giant calms down.

"Clearly there is much that has happened here that I do not understand," he mutters.

[danielxcutter]

"We should really tell you the details later." muttered the greywarden.

[A.A.King]

"Goblins, Hobgoblins, Bugbears and other allies. There is a whole army out there that is trying to take over these lands. We found this symbol in a castle controlled by them. You say your kin was attacked by the people who wore this mark? Well, we found the mark controlled by this goblinoid horde, a horde whose imperial ambitions want to take over all of this land. It sounds like that is exactly what happened to your people, though of course I can't be sure.

Right now we're just trying to stop them, make sure the forest remains at peace, at least for a little bit longer.

Would you be willing to help us stop an army from marching down these roads and killing all that is insight?"

[danielxcutter]

"Now that I think of it..." mused Arendi, "...from what I heard, the Vraath who attacked your tribe was mostly an idiot. These goblins, though... they're even nastier. If they're trying to take over the entire Vale, I wouldn't bet half a piece of rotten owlbear crap that they'd leave your people alone."

He put his helmet back on and fixed it in place with a click. "Can your people fight? Can you help us, and all the tribes of the Vale, Warklegnaw?"

[Toliudar]

Chatty

Chatty turns quickly to Arendi with a quick thumb-across-throat motion. Perhaps he had been too far away to hear the "Killed all my kin." comment.

She turned back to Alastor, hoping that the ringmaster could salvage the situation. Even a lone giant would be a significant ally in, say for example, a fight against a dragon. Or a scenario in which you might need to take down a bridge.

[Saintheart]

An Old, Old Giant's Home
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Early Afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 2 of 6

"Hobogoblins ..." The last syllable hissed on and on from Warklegnaw's mouth. The forest giant looked at each of them in turn, and then back to the gauntlet on his hand. He seemed to be thinking aloud. "Warklegnaw's kin in the forest all gone. Many died, destroying the murderers' fastness. More died of sorrow. But ... what of Grimtooth, the young? What of his mate Soft-petal? Not here. Didn't die here. Left to the mountains. Warklegnaw remembers." With a sudden clash of metal on flesh that echoed back from the trees, the giant slammed the gauntlet and his palm together. "This land Warklegnaw's home! Twistusks' paradise! Warklegnaw grew here! Warklegnaw befriended the brown lady here! Warklegnaw die here! But Warklegnaw won't allow the curse of the murderers' keep to reign again while he lives! He peered angrily at them. "Warklegnaw will help you. Warklegnaw drag Warklegnaw's old bones into the mountains. Find what remains of Warklegnaw's kin. One last day of rage for the clan Twistusks. Honour for Warklegnaw's dead kin. Hobogoblins not have leave of Twistusks come here, waken old murderers' keep! Hobogoblins pay!"

The giant gestured to the rothe on the spit. "Eat, little folk. Warklegnaw cooks for fellow warriors. When done, Warklegnaw go. Alone, to mountains. Find Warklegnaw kin. Bring back Twistusk sons, grandchilds, cousins, brethren. And fight."

[A.A.King]

"I'm glad to here some fire back in your voice, Warklegnaw" Alastor said "but do be weary, there are already many Hobgoblins in this forest, we are just on our way to try and divert an entire army of its intended course to try and stall them. Who knows how many are out there the further you get from here!"

"Thanks for the food, friend!"

[Toliudar]

Chatty

The wererat moves cautiously forward, not wishing to test Warklegnaw's patience by foregrounding the Vraath gauntlets overmuch, but nonetheless digs happily in to roasting beast on the fire. In fact, she tears off chunks directly from the roasting beast and pops them into her mouth without apparent harm. Table manners apparently having been a course that was skipped in between acrobatics and sewer-running. She doesn't take much, all told, and before the others have even finished, she is gesturing back down the trail.

We should get moving, if we want to scout the bridge by daylight.

Unless there is further discussion, she'll slip away back down the trail again.

Spoiler: OOC

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Chatty's Flame's Blessing stance gives her very minor fire resistance - enough, I figured, to eat roasting meat off the spit.

[Saintheart]

Skull Gorge
Shaareach Forest, Cannath Vale
Late afternoon, the Tenth of Mirtul
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Complication Dice: 3 of 6

Chatty's journey - with the circus trailing behind some distance - continued uninterrupted for the rest of the steaming, stifling afternoon. Shadows began to lean once more in the near-twilight of the jungle floor, the Dawn Way's flagstones turning orange as time wore on.

The ground had been rising for some miles. With it, so had a sort of distant, roaring noise - as of a waterfall, far off and like a continuing roll of thunder. Finally, the forest itself began to peter out. Ahead, through the thick trees, was a stretch of barren ground, about sixty feet wide, ending in a massive gorge. The noise of rolling thunder - now identifiable as distant water - was echoing from the great crease in the earth. The ancient Dawn Way climbed onto a bridge of stone, anchored at both ends with round stone towers. In typical dwarven overbuilt style, the four towers were each a good forty feet high, though no external stairway was visible from here, still safely in the trees.

Spoiler: OOC

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I forgot to mention that everyone gets 500 XP each for befriending Warklegnaw.

As for the present situation - not much more detail is visible from this distance out, through the treeline. Chatty can likely get closer to properly recon the gorge and the bridge, but it's going to take new Move Silently and Hide checks. She'll still only really be able to get up to the cleared ground before the gorge, i.e. sixty feet out, but if all your intel is correct there's a dragon hanging around somewhere here, which species has pretty decent perception checks.