The Keep of Grunwich Forest

The call had come three days prior, as a week before, there was a commotion in the Province of Riltplait. The whispers, rumors and hired messengers spoke of a menace striking during the night, smashed walls, a merchant caravan dead and livestock missing. Of cries in the night.

The group gathered and decided to give it a shot. To answer this plea for help... and thus, you set forth to the very outskirts of Ranais, to this province of wide open plains, nestled among some light hills. To see the flowing Nerlund River snaking away and splitting into the Rilt River and the Nerling River, which eventually pooled into Everblue lake. And, upon the heights of the hills look upon the wall of tall trees that to the far north made the Grunwich forest.

The path was nice and easy, the day perfectly template as the heat of the summer met the relative coolness of the land this far North. Eventually, the group would find their way, through cultivated fields into the town of Riltplait... where there was much rumors and movement around. Apparently, the menace had struck again the very night before.

After a little talk with the local youths who delivered message of their arrival, the group was told joyfully that they could meet with the person in charge of Riltplait, at noon near the North entrance to the town close to the place where the attack had happened. The sun climbs ever closer to its apex on the sky... there is still plenty of time to get there as our adventurers stand upon the center of town, a makeshift plaza of stone with a single statue of a local Goddess upon it. All around the plaza people went around their business, carts with goods moving around towards the many warehouses and mills, markets full of conversing people speaking of the tragedy of last night. An small inn, the Hanged Goose had doors open as they prepared lunch. The sound of hammer upon metal sounded from a local blacksmith.

Common and good folk, and despite the terrors of the previous night they moved on with their lives... more wary and yes, some quite afraid. The statue of the Goddess had fresh offerings of flowers and grains and a woman approaching old age lay upon her feet, praying fervently, tears in her eyes. Yet in many eyes there was a sort of grim wariness... men spoke of reinforcing the walls, of calling for reinforcements for the hamlets. A reckless youth held his pitchfork in both hands, stabbing at the air with determination before and older man slaps him on the side of the head and points at the straw yet to be unloaded from the cart.

And then there were the eyes looking at them. Few people could avoid taking a glance at them. Armored and armed, some young boys stared with eyes open wide at the blades hanging from waist and back, the older people were more reserved, though they still spoke hurriedly at this party of adventurers. They all wondered, what would they do? Could these men and women put and end to the terror of the night?

Oisín stretched and felt the chainmail sleaves fall down his arms.

"Right, Lads, a fine welcoming from the natives to be sure, but I'd as soon have my fill of porter," He stretched looking over the group, "We have some things to purchase before we set out on our ways but I think it's a right fine tradition to start off this sort of endeavour with a drink and close it with another."

He looked over the town and his compatriots, "What do you lot say to a round?"

Lissa looked warily around the town square, the clear tension of the townspeople getting to her as it had been since they'd entered Riltplait several hours ago. "It's a bit early for a drink, Oisín," she remarked, folding her arms over her chest in a conscious effort to keep from fiddling with the hilt of her rapier. "Let's save that for after we learn what the mayor wants us to track down and kill..."

"Yesterday is early for a drink, my friend," Oisín replied, "Tomorrow will be late. I say we raise a toast to this fine town, then see the Witan."

Oisín paused with a half smile and his hands behind his head, "Or however you call them now. The better to have our wits about us."

There were a couple words and ideas Oisín held to from his old people who have been passed a hundred years now. Even if Lissa or the rest would try to make him aware, he'd keep using his old words. He took an odd pride in it.

edited 19th Dec '14 8:44:04 PM by Fauxlosophe

"Mayor first, toast later," Sanna said, agreeing with the bard. "There is always time for food, for tradition. But show up late, the mayor gets angry, and then - toast now, mayor never."

edited 21st Dec '14 1:08:50 AM by Pyrite

Oisín cracked his back.

"I don't think we actually sent off for an appointment ahead of time."

"However, I know a battle I can't win," He said with a frown, "Don't let it be said I was the one breaking tradition."

Lissa sighed and shook her head. "Most of the old songs I know involve drinking pretty much all the time, so whenever we have time to stop, I think we'll be fulfilling at least one tradition," she said.

"What, you forgot already?" Sanna nudged the paladin, perplexed. "Noon, North Gate. Don't worry - drink later, plenty of time then."

edited 21st Dec '14 1:09:13 AM by Pyrite

"I hardly expect that he imagines high noon," Oisín replied with a shrug, "A Glass wouldn't be an hour but it would be well spent."

He looked over to Lissa, "I recall the old bit of Sylvan wisdom; Preab San Ól, but I'll leave follow you all the same; we'll head to the Witan and then do as we will. Exchange a few more verses and odes to the bottle, mug and cask while we drink to the fortune of our undertaking."

edited 19th Dec '14 10:06:36 PM by Fauxlosophe

And so, the party walked towards the meeting spot, passing through the wide open streets of Riltplait, leaving behind more and more curious onlookers as well as a few children with leisure time to follow them for a while, commenting in low tones as they speculate on their origin. Mostly humans here, with a few halflings... so the pointed ears and grace of the elven blooded members of the party bring much interest.

After some time walking, they finally look upon the northern wall of the city... only a story and half tall, made of rocks and wood. A fair wall for a city of this size and on this end of the world. That is, if not for the sight of a section of it lying as rubble in one section, wide enough for four men abreast to pass through. Outside of the wall there were a few hovels... completely destroyed. Within the walls, only one house lay half destroyed, one half of it crumbled to the side while the rest held up.

Overseeing a group of men hard at work trying to patch the hole, there was two figures dressed and carrying enough air of authority to be the leaders of the community. One of them was a human man, tall at that. Probably only a few centimeters short of two meters, wide shouldered and with a neatly trimmed beard of brown with some white starting to show. He dressed in trousers and a tunic, with a purple colored cap on his head holding a badge of office. While he seemed strong enough to help with the labor in the fields, one could notice his fingers lightly colored black by ink.

The other man was, surprisingly enough, a dwarf. An old dwarf at that... his hair and braided beard now nearly entirely white. He only reached a little past the waist of the human, yet he seemed more grounded and confident, his age likely lending him experience and wisdom. His blue eyes were quite sharp, though somewhat guarded as he barked gruff orders at the men at work. His manner of dress was nicer than that of the human man, his pants and tunic with a better cut and neater overall. Upon his hands he carried a journal of some kind plus a piece of charcoal pencil for making notes on the go.

Being informed about the approach, both men nodded at each other and then turned at the party, the capped man smiling easily and seemingly impressed with what he saw in the party. The dwarf was a bit more guarded, though he offered courtly smile and a bow as they approached.

"Ah, you must be the guests I was told of earlier. I'm so glad you'all could come so quickly. I hope you've had a good while in Rilt" says the tall man "I'm Ruskl Malorn. Acting mayor of this fine place and I look over it while the Earl is away. This is my steward..."

"Maebar Copperheart, of the Copperheart Dwarves of the West" says the Dwarf, slipping out of the gruff tone he used before, now articulating his words with enough care and elegance to give a court noble a run for their money "It is a pleasure to have you come so quickly in these dark times" says the man, putting his hands behind him as he looks at the damage in the wall... and then, the adventurers would be able to notice something else. Bodies underneath pieces of cloth, near a dozen of them on the street opposite from the destroyed house.

edited 20th Dec '14 12:58:35 PM by daltar

"A pleasure, Lords," Oisín bowed, "We heard the call and came. Not a moment too soon, I can see... and smell."

"Now, we only have a rough outline of what's to be done," He said looking over, "Some beastie of the night that needs a slaying. Some more words on that might be good; anything you can tell us might help."

edited 19th Dec '14 10:59:02 PM by Fauxlosophe

"Aye." Danir Sundragon mumbled to himself as he looked around, examining the devastation from his horse. "Did your beast do this or was it an accident?" He then asked the mayor and his steward before he lept off his mount.

Sanna did not bow, but she dipped her head perfunctorily at the two live townsmen - one human, one dwarf - and then glanced over at nearly a dozen dead ones lying shrouded in the street. Whatever had come this way must have been big, and she knew of few forest beasts that could have broken such a large hole in the wall. Whatever it was, nothing that size could have come that way without leaving a trace behind.

She knelt to the ground, scanning the site for clues.

Requesting Perception check - anything that's out of place in the rubble.

"I've never read of anything that could do this," Lissa murmured, surveying the destruction and death. Surely such a creature would have been recorded in the College's bestiaries... or so she hoped, at least.

"Ah," Oisín said, "Then your libraries are not half of what you speak them up to be. Many are the beasts and brutes who can do the damage here today, known by poem and song for their mischieves. Men, not the least among them, given a number of them."

He looked over and surveyed what he could as the elf did, "I'd wager it is early for us to be making guesses, it could be anything from Dragons to Ent folk; though the way it is spoken of conjures to my mind thoughts of the Fey and Fomori. Wilds like the forest are often home to their hosts and their strays."

Invisible castle seems to be down, as such, Dalt, feel free to do the perception thing

"Aye... Nasty piece of work this and a damn tragedy" says Mayor Malorn, looking back at the scene "There is a similar scene out in Splitriver keep to the North. That'was actually why we set out the first call. Thing moved in the darkness of the night... a big something. Dogs barked and some howled. Then, the boys at the keep spoke of something hitting a wall hard enough to break the wall. Ehh, got to admit, we didn't got our bravest and brightest stationed at the keep at the moment... it's not harvest season yet, so bandits know to stay away until the plunder is at least worth it. The boys at the keep moved deeper into stone walls and prayed for their lives until the night was over. Three killed, the two who manned the walls and one brave lad who went out to face whatever it was that did this. We only found half of him"

"That's not all, a merchant had his caravan moving under a good guard, marching towards Hunter's Lodge on the edge of the forest to get fresh furs. The hunters heard awful cries from the road and by the time daylight came, they merely found blood on the road, a few body parts and the remains of one of the carts" says Maebar, expression grim as he looks at Sanna inspecting the ground and rubble where people are working.

Sanna's keen elven eyes would notice a couple fingers peering through a bit of rubble where men were excavating... and close to it, on the soil there would be a print. A big print... with six fat toes set upon a large fat foot... the thing was at least four times larger than a human's footprint.

"Only men who saw the thing clearly, under the light of the wall's fire now lie buried and dead under the rubble. See the print, Lady Elf?" says Maebar, looking upon the footprint, Dwarven cunning showing in his old eyes "Giantkin, that is what my gut tells me. Under my mountains, centuries before when I was but a young beardless boy, my father, as all Dwarven fathers do, taught me of them. We are looking at the work of a degenerate brute of a creature, something that got very wrong in nature"

The mayor lightly sounded his throat then and began to speak once again "There is another who has said they will help... they arrived early today. Since we got word of your arrival they've been... waiting, I guess, upon the watchtower" he says, looking up towards the tower... where a cloaked figure sat upon the edge "I'll leave it up to you to discuss how to proceed with them. There is a few matters that may be important to discuss... we know there are dangers to this work and the community will be very grateful to be able to sleep in peace once again. If one or all of you want to discuss the specifics of the reward for this job and a couple other things, there is a house close by where we can sit down and speak"

edited 20th Dec '14 11:54:31 AM by daltar

"Giantkin?" Oisín smirked and cracked his neck, "I know the old tales of them, dumb brutes and unworthy offspring of their nobler kin of yore. A difficult quarry, but I suspect we should manage it."

"I do have need of gold and friendship for my own designs," He smiled, "But slaying this brute should be its own reward in part. I shall let my companions talk of terms, though I pray they shall not be exacting, as I would not want even what was promised except for these designs, which I assure you are most noble and, as all good deeds, shall come to reward you in turn."

Oisín stretched, "Now, if we are slaying Giants, I have need of many things. A drink, not the least of them."

edited 20th Dec '14 1:01:53 PM by Fauxlosophe

"Giantkin," Lissa said quietly, looking at the footprint. She shivered slightly, imagining how big the thing that made the print must have been. "Forgive me for asking, sir Maebar, but would that be Undir Hæð, Niður Dökk? The story your father told you?" She cleared her throat. "I know the whole thing, though I'm afraid my pronunciation must be terrible..." The song was one of several that mentioned giants and giantkin, and required at least three people singing at once to do it properly; still, it was one of her favorites.

I guess that's a History or Knowledge check?

edited 20th Dec '14 1:18:58 PM by RedSavant

"A drink you may find in the home, if you want to come to the negotiations... though if you need to prepare then I'll let you to it, sir" says the Mayor nodding to the rest who would come in for negotiations, leading them to a home about a hundred steps from there. As they entered the home and old lady within looked at Malorn and nods her head, retreating deeper into the home.

Malorn for his part guides them through a hall to a sort of meeting room, with plenty of chairs and a table.

Maebar, on the way looks at Lissa with a bit of surprise in his old eyes and as he speaks he slips a bit into the rougher tone one would expect of a dwarf "Aye, that's an old tale you know off, lady. It is one of our most precious stories, bound into books and reliefs carved into the stone... sung by only those daring enough to give it justice. I wasn't speaking exactly of it though. Giants, they are drawn to tall places. There are many dangers in the mountains and hills and of them, Dwarves dread and grimly prepare to fight Giantkin near the most"

Then, when those who decided to come in, instead of going off to prepare or meet with the other one who signed up to deal with the threat in the watchtower, were sitting down Maebar addressed them all once again "Well then... as you may notice, we are not exactly rich folk living out here in the fields. Yet, we need this menace set to rest. The attack on the keep was worrying enough, but now it has struck at our town. Thus, after talking it for long the Mayor and I and making some calculations before sending out the call, we are ready to offer each of you a 50 gold pieces for the slaying of the beast, to be given out after the deed is done"

Maebar stayed quiet for a moment after the offer... for while 50 gold coins for humble folk were quite an amount, for a band of adventurers, this would prove to be a paltry, specially to vanquish a beast that had caused this much damage.

"Plus, of course" says the Mayor, speaking a bit hurriedly "Right of salvage, which I shall sign myself. Whatever it is you find in the depths of the monster's lair shall rightfully be yours to keep. One of his targets as you may remember, was a merchant caravan... and while we don't know what lie within it, we know that the monster dragged out into the woods"

"And finally... a holding. If you manage to defeat this beast, to clear us out of danger, well we couldn't be more thankful for it. We shall have a worthy property and its surrounding land and rights given to you" finally adds Maebar... their ace in hole to speak off "Do you find our terms satisfactory, ladies and gentlemen?"

"The holding is quite a promise," Oisín said with a smile, "I was hoping for the cost of board but and a bit of coin, but your offer is far more generous. The pair of you are too kind and should consider my blade at your disposal."

"I will find an inn to put me up," Oisín shrugged, "Anyone else interested in coming along? Drusus?"

Sanna had not joined the negotiations, despite her insistence that they arrive on time - druids had little use for gold or lands, and she had no appetite for the minutiae of deal-brokering and haggling. So she'd waved the rest of them on, firmly insisting that such matters were better handled by someone with the tongue for it.

For her, the hunt was enough. She remembered very little about giantkin - despite Elder Edwin's attempts to educate her in the lore of the druids, she always ended up classifying monsters into "prey" and "not prey", and giantkin had always fallen into the latter category... until now.

It was never too early to start learning, though.

She lingered at the scene of destruction, alerting the beleaguered workmen to the fingers under the rubble, and then chose to focus on the six-toed footprint that had been left on the ground. It was common sense: if you found a stray footprint, there would surely be more to follow - and if there was one thing she was fairly good at, it was tracking.

Nature check, Survival check for tracking.

edited 21st Dec '14 1:34:22 AM by Pyrite

Danir grinned as he heard the offer "Personally, money, castle... All for slaying a giantkin, how could I refuse such an offer?! I'm in and as sure my name is Sundragon your town will have this beast slain." He said self assured, he would finally get a castle of his own, and he would help people getting it as well! Maybe soon he could propose... Again.

Lissa pondered the offer. It wasn't as tempting for her as for the others, it seemed, but a place to call her own... more pertinently, a place to keep her research and books. It might not be her room in the College, but it was something. "That sounds acceptable to me," she said, nodding to Maebar and the Mayor.

"Marvelous, then it seems like we are in accord" says Maebar with polite smile of contentment. He then took on a quill and paper starting to draw neat lines upon it. He asked for the name of all in the expedition and Lissa in particular would notice another name written upon the paper, this one being Leina Brillhill. He wrote the basic terms of what they spoke off, the reward and recipients, who would give it and such leaving space to add formalities later "Now as you can see, this would be the legal contract. We need it as a record of expenditure and then to validate the passing of land and state to you all. See if it's all in order"

It seemed to be well in order, however Mayor Malorn lifted one hand and then said "There is one more issue I wish to speak off... this one coming out of my own pocket. We have accounted for all who died... however, there is member of our community that is missing. A young woman of 19 winters who lived upon the half broken home you saw with her widowed mother. Poor woman hasn't left the shrines to pray for her safety... and hasn't stopped crying. We believe she may have been abducted by the beast. Her name is Ria, she has bright red hair..."

"Boy, let it rest... there is nothing to be done for the maid if she was taken by the beast" says Maebar putting a hand to the mayor's shoulder.

"Regardless... 50 gold coins if you can find her corpse for a proper burial service. Twice that if you can find her live and well and return her from the grasp of the beast" says Malorn, eyes resolute.

Giantkin, giantkin... "big", "ugly", "tainted". Dammit. That was all that Sanna could recall, and she was pretty sure the average half-orc (or half-wit) could've told her as much.

Her search for tracks turned out slightly better, and as she surveyed the area, something on the ground caught her eye.

Hmmm? Unusual.

She picked it up, sniffing at it before stowing it away for further reference. Then she made her way back to the house of negotiation - she wasn't going to go after anything that large without backup - and waited at the door.