~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire Command: [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Emma draws her broadsword, her eyes flashing as if she fully intends to finish the wounded giant where he lies upon the ground. Her chest still heaves with the exertion of the past few minutes and the adrenaline coursing through her body seems unwilling to disappear.

Storm runs up from behind the giant as it falls, that gleam of battle still in his eyes. He leaps up onto the end of the giant's right leg as it lies there on his face, and proceeds to run up the length of it's entire body. Coming up to his neck, he leaps on the giants shoulder blades and pulls the beast's head up by its knotty hair. Seeing that it's not faking its injury, he smacks the thing upside the head with the flat of one of his blade and begins to climb off, mumbling under his breath. "That's what ye get fer messin' with dwarves!"

Storm's quick feet bring him into Emma's range of vision, still concentrated upon the face of what she sees as her enemy. The picture of the Dwarf straddling the giant's shoulders and the quick smack of his long sword against its head, causes the fire inside her to finally ebb. The tip of her broadsword wavers and she relaxes the grip upon its hilt, finally allowing it to point once more toward the ground next to her side.

"Do we have anything to bind his hands and feet?!" Alara shouts to those around her. "He seems to still be breathing," she says as she slips down from her horse, rubbing the bruise she can already feel throbbing on her rear.

She walks over to the giant's massive leg and kicks it (though not hard enough to actually do any damage). "There... now I feel better.", she says half jokingly. She continues to walk around the wounded giant. "If we somehow can manage to bind his arms and legs, maybe we can find out what he wants with 'the priestess and the mage,'" she says quoting the giant. "But I for one don't want to give him a chance to pick up any more boulders."

Skandor lets out a stifled grunt as he impacts with the ground. His chain mail was made for stopping sharp edged weapons, not for turning aside the blows of large tree-trunks! White stars play on the edge of his vision as he focuses his sight...he is momentarily blinded and disoriented, but his last thought is that of protecting Emma, and he knew right now that he wasn't doing a very good job of that.

Panic creeps into his mind as he shakes his head roughly, clenching his teeth in pain. With a feral growl, he rises and drags his claymore behind him at he rushes towards the giant. The pain is too much, and he half-bends, half shuffles towards the felled giant. With one arm he cradles his stomach, the other drags his weapon on the ground beside him.

As Skandor reaches the giant and sees that it has been subdued for the moment, and that Emma is safe, his breathing comes in labored gasps as he doubles-over near the giant's feet. He leans on his sword to keep from falling to the ground. He fights back the pain as he raises one hand to remove his helmet and drop it to the ground by his feet. Funny, he is sweating profusely, even though the whole scene only took moments to play out.

It is then that Alara sees Skandor, bleeding from his wounds. "Oh my," she gasps. She begins to run towards Skandor guiding her horse behind her. When she reaches his side she looks up at him and says, "Are you alright?" Not waiting for his response she looks around the battleground, when her eyes fall up on Emma she shouts over to her. "Emma!!!" motioning the priestess over.

Emma sees Alara's concern and feels oddly disoriented herself. Almost as if the whole thing is surreal. 'Am I dreaming this whole thing?' she wonders to herself. The priestess shuffles forward, slowly approaching the half-elf and the Sword Bearer.

Skandor reaches the back of his wrist to his mouth and draws it away, leaving a slight blood trail on his mailed sleeve. Perhaps a rib or two has been broken. His breathing is rough, perhaps a lung punctured? He nods towards Alara slowly. "Aye, I shall be fine, lady. My thanks for the asking." The paladin looks around the rest of the party first, to see if anyone else is worse off than he.

Crayne nods at Alara in agreement as he comes out from cover, "Yes! Let us bind the giant as soon as possible! We don't want him getting up again and smashing us with that stick of his again!"

Hannibal chuckles to himself. How crazy did that sound? Binding a giant?!! "You will need something alot stronger than rope to keep that one down Highbrow," Hannibal remarks plainly, slinging his bow back over his shoulder. "Why don't we just have Storm stand on his nose? That would keep me still!"

Crayne smiles at Hannibal, "Stand on his nose! I don't know about that as the giant would probably try and eat Storm! Although..." Crayne ponders, "I think the dwarf would not be to his apetite! A bit chewy I'd reckon! And that hairy beard to contend with as well!" Crayne laughs out loud as he pictures the scene in his mind. "I think we should try our best to bind this giant. With enough rope and enough hands we should secure it."

The priestess blinks as she vaguely hears the conversation going on around her. 'Who cares?' she thinks to herself, 'He's finished.' She slides her broadsword back into its scabbard and turns to leave, her eyes scanning the horizon for her mount, hoping it didn't go too far after throwing her earlier. Despite her outward indifference, Emma mentally argues with herself over the giant as she looks for the horse.

'Stupid,' she tells herself, 'Why was he looking for us? We could have killed him for his trouble. And in fact, that's what I would have done, if Storm hadn't jumped on top of him...' The priestess feels a shiver and crosses her arms as if to ward off the cold chill, but it's not the winter breeze that affects her. 'It's The Rage,' she thinks, 'The anger that warriors sometimes summon upon themselves that cause them to go berserk. A little further and I might have gone over the edge myself...'

She looks back over her shoulder and mumbles too low for anyone to hear her, "Stupid giant..." As she does so, she catches sight of Skandor as he once more approaches the group.

Crayne looks to Skandor and can't believe that he is still standing after the hit he took, "You are a brave warrior Skandor! You fought with might and great courage today!"

The Sword Bearer nods his thanks towards the mage, which brings on a new wave of nausea and slight dizziness. "And your magic was instrumental, as always, master Crayne." With that, Skandor grits his teeth again as he rises to his full height and approaches Emma to take his protective position to her side and just behind, sword still at the ready. From here, he listens to Crayne speak to the beast, and anyone else who would address it. He watches Storm as the dwarf gets very close to the giant's vulnerable neck, but remains ready should the dwarf require his aid.

Emma pauses in her steps and waits for Skandor to come to her, almost measuring him with her gaze. Her eyes seem very distant though, only vaguely focused upon his face, and then his wounds. Tentatively, she reaches out to touch them, her face expressionless. "A brave knight of Anhur...," she half-whispers aloud. Inwardly she compares the title to that of her own frenzied actions, but shows no outward expression of caring for the difference. It's hard to tell if she says the actual words with sarcasm or reverence. "...is to be rewarded for bravery upon the field of battle," she finishes. A short prayer for healing escapes her lips and where her hands touch Skandor's wounds, they begin to reknit.

(Emma casts Cure Moderate Wounds upon Skandor, 5 hp restored.) Following that, the priestess moves away, clearly going to reclaim her horse before bringing it back toward the others that have gathered to question the giant.

Crayne nods in a respectful manner and then turns to Storm, "Ask your friends here if they have rope that we can use to bind the giant's hands and feet!"

Storm looks at the mage rather quizzically. "Here? There ain't no others here...thems be way back there!" He points over toward the rock encampment without looking. "But I got me some rope in me pack...here ye are. He takes out the heavy coil of hemp rope and tosses it to Crayne seemingly with no effort. "I be douting ye can tie it tight enough fer this bugger, though. I's think I's just be staying right here with me blades, just fer safety." He winks Crayne's way as he steps over again to the giant's head and stands there with the edge of his sword resting against the soft spot of the beast's neck.

Crayne then continues, "Also, Emma is there a way in which you can stop the giant bleeding? For we do not want it to die on us! I am rather intrigued as to why this beast was looking for us!"

Nodding from behind her haze, Emma steps forward toward the beast, her eyes fixed upon some point in the distance. She doesn't feel the group beneath her feet, or the wind upon her face. Placing her hands upon the giant's right arm, splayed out upon the road, she calls upon Anhur's will and power to offer the beast a modicum of healing. (Emma casts Cure Moderate Wounds on the giant, restoring 7 hp.) At the same time, Storm returns with his rope and begins to drag the giant's arms onto its back and bind them together. Tossing a coil of rope to Canter, he instructs the leatherman's son to do the same with the giant's ankles.

Once the giant is tied and safely held in place Crayne begins to question the giant. He stands there wary, expecting an attempt to escape. 'Any hint of success' Crayne thinks to himself, 'will give good cause to knock him out with a color spray!'

Smiling at the giant as it slowly opens its huge eyelids, Crayne speaks up in a strong voice. He stands near the giant's ears. "You have found the mage and priestess giant!" Crayne says proudly. "It is a shame that we couldn't have met on much more civilised terms! But you big people are always the same thinking with your fist rather than your brain. How would you like it if you were as small as me and some great big giant starts throwing boulders at you? I am more than sure that like me you wouldn't appreciate it! Nevertheless, Stonethrower!" Crayne nicknames the giant, "We have decided to keep you alive for the moment. If you answer my questions then perhaps we'll let you live. I haven't decided fully yet, though, so let's see how you do!"

Crayne pauses a moment and then continues, "Why were you so eager to find me and my friend here the priestess? What is it Stonethrower that you want from us? It wouldn't be anything to do with this pretty little gem now would it?" Crayne says as he lifts the gem out from one his pouches. The gem glistens beautifully in the very last rays of sunlight. Crayne momentarily wonders whether his hunch is correct. His other hunch was Paros but at the moment he hoped that the mage had nothing to do with this!

A frown crosses Emma's face as she watches Crayne hold up the gemstone. 'Stupid,' she thinks to herself, 'Show the creature your wealth...I'm sure he'll just break down and admit it's what he was after. And if it wasn't, well now he knows we're carrying something extremely valuable.' She shakes her head and turns away from the questioning. To her, it's obvious that the brute came hunting them, but not for some precious trinket. There is only one thing the party possesses that would warrant this kind of attack...the Ring of Water Command. If the Red Dragon mages aren't behind this, then it is probably Paros. Less likely, it would be the drow or the Blood Clan. But Paros and the Red Dragon School seem to have the means for locating people easily. How had Paros managed to visit them at the tavern in Parton just a day or two ago? Magic. And the same would have been necessary to point this giant on an intercept course for Rinder's Six, too. Presumably the Drow would be capable of such a feat, but Paros and his classmates seem much more likely to her.

'So why not voice my opinion?' Emma asks herself. She looks back over her shoulder with a wary expression, half-tempted to do just that. 'No,' she thinks, 'Let them figure things out for themselves...maybe I'm wrong anyway.'

The giant moans, letting out a long and smelly exhale through his large nostrils. His eyes seem unfocussed, his pupils dilating and contracting at random. "Mage and priestess..." he repeats. "He said mage and priestess..."

Then the giant's eyes focus for a moment on the gem, sparkling before him. His eyelids narrow--now he was coming around. "Hmm..." he says, his large tongue licking his dried, dusty lips.

"Oy thar!" Another voice suddenly screams. It is Brillac, running as best he can along the road toward the fallen giant. He is ecstatic. "[Storm! You and your humans have brought the beast down! There will be feasting tonight!]"

Storm smiles at Brillac from his position atop the giant's back. "[Ya! He be down!]"

Then Brillac sees Canter finishing the rope around the giant's ankles. His eyes quickly shift to the image at the giant's head: Cranye standing just feet away from the face, holding out the tempting, gigantic gemstone. Brillac's eyes grow wide and he raises his bushy dwarven eyebrows, stretching out the pocked skin on his face. Looking to Storm, he shouts, "[Is that one a complete idiot?!]"

Before Storm can answer, then he takes a large breath in, gathering his strength. Suddenly his arms begin to move, straining against the hemp rope binding his wrists together. Yet his eyes stay drilled on the gemstone in Crayne's hands. Crayne takes a step back, sensing that something is happening.

With a sudden and loud "snap!" the rope binding his wrists is broken. Storm is shaken on his unsteady ground (the giant's back), and tightens his grip on his sword, looking around to the others for direction. The giant then kicks with his legs, and begins to bend apart his knees. The rope at his ankles is stretched, groaning with the gigantic strain. Then they, too, snap. Raising his elbows high above Skandor's head, the giant plants his hands on the ground and begins to push his body up.

"The man said the mage and the priestess! I bring 'em to the man in the robe!"

"[Stop him!!]" Brillac screams, drawing even Emma's attention ('What is he yelling about?' she wonders).

As Storm clings to the giant's hide on his back, he looks frantically down to his companions. Then, with the giant slowly rising, about half way up, his hand begins to reach around. Was going for Storm, or reaching for his giant club which had fallen behind him?!

"Storm, do something!!" Canter screams, imagining either scenario and not liking either.

Taking matters into his own hands, Storm holds on to the giant's hide armor with one hand, and tightens his grip on his sword with the other. Then, with one strong thrust, he drives his sword into the midpoint of the beasts back. Immediately, the giant lets out a howl, which echoes off the darkened mountains around them. It drops to its knees, sending up a cloud of dust around him and shaking Storm from his back. The dwarf lands on his bottom on the hard, frozen road, his blade still sticking out of the giant's back above.

The giant begins to turn around slowly, his eyes searching for the weilder of that blade. Not wanting to see this continue any more, Crayne pockets the gemstone and steps forward again, waving his arms in a now-familiar fashion and calling upon the arcane powers to cast a Color Spray in the direction of the giant's head.

The sudden blast of colors startles the giant, but not just the giant. Brillac grabs his crossbow in one sudden motion and, not knowing what that magical effect would do but sure he didn't want this giant getting up again, fires a bolt directly at the giant's neck. Feeling the effects of the Color Spray, the giant raises his arms to his eyes, screaming aloud, blinded. But it is for naught. Brillac's bolt flies true, landing in a soft spot on the giant's neck. The impact sends the giant's head flopping to the other side, and for the second time that night, its whole body comes crashing down upon the road.

This time, however, it is no longer breathing.

"Crayne what have you done?!" Alara asks pointedly.

"Me? I did nothing more than a Color Spray. Talk to *him*!" the mage answers, pointing a finger at the dwarf Brillac.

Alara marches over toward Brillac, aware that the words she had for him wouldn't be understood. But she had to say them. "Why did you do that?!" she demands. "Crayne could have subdued him, we could have learned who sent him!"

Brillac understands not a word of Alara's tirade, but her tone is clear enough. He takes a step forward toward the half-elf, standing as tall as he can. Then he answers her in his own tongue. "[Young one, giants kill dwarves. Dwarves defend themselves. That should be reason enough.]"

Alara looks to Storm, waiting for a translation. For once, however, Storm thinks about it and decides that those are words best left alone. "I...I be thinkin' we best be movin'..." He then looks to Brillac, "[You be lettin' us pass, eh?]"

Brillac nods curtly, turning away from Alara and looking toward Storm. "[Ye friends fought well. If only they talked well, too. For your assistance, you may pass.]" With that, Brillac of the Stoneshaper Clan turns and begins the solitary walk back to his post. His people would return to raid the giant for anything valuable, but first he had to get back to his men.

Still peeved, Alara tosses her hair aside and walks back toward her horse. "Come on, let's go."

A few hours later they make camp, just on the other side of the mountain pass, in the Duchy of Merriam. The terrain is hilly, not surprising as they are still close to the mountains. A small fire is lit and rations are distributed for the eating. The night passes uneventfully and once watches are set, all fall asleep under the stars.

The next day is spent traveling. The party rises early in the morning and gets on the road. By midday they are riding past Lake Merriam, which is just south of the road. The lake is cold and misty; winter is more severe as they move south. But wrapped as warmly as they can, they continue the ride across Merriam until they reach the city of Merriam, itself. From the plateau overlooking the city, the party stops to rest in the mid-afternoon. Canter takes a moment to sit and watch the city from afar, thinking back to the last time they sat at this spot, he and Emma. How much had happened since then. How much she, he, and everyone had grown! How much they had gained...and lost...

After consulting the map, it is decided that they could ride hard and make it to Halen a few hours after sunset. The riding continues. They encounter more peseants, going to or from the capital city, as they near and cross Merriam. But by late afternoon they have passed the great city, and continue on the road east to Halen.

It is well after nightfall when they finally arrive. Halen is a small city, with a number of inns, shops, and other such establishments, as well as the outlying residential areas and the farms and vineyards farther out (among these, Crayne's home of Mistledale). Rinder's Six rides slowly down the main street through Halen, taking in the sites: a butcher shop, a baker, an armorer, a candlemaker, a sage, a blacksmith, and others. They then happen upon an inn and tavern, "Wood's Tavern," where they leave their mounts and head inside.

The place is hopping, filled with people crowded around the warm fire on this frosty winter's night. The bar is directly opposite the main door, with a large fireplace off to the left as you enter. Off to the right is a large staircase leading up to the rooms for letting above. Canter heads up to the bar and secures some rooms for the night. Though the warm fire and lively crowd are tempting, the party is too tired from its long ride, and soon they are all asleep (following the customary prayers and spell memorization).

In the morning, the fire downstairs is once again lit, but this time the throng is gone. The party meets at a large round table, at which some hot oatmeal is served by the innkeeper's wife. "And for you..." she says cheerfully, almost singing, as she places the final bowl in front of Crayne, who arrives at the table still yawning.

"So," Hannibal says, spooning another bite of breakfast into his hungry mouth, "where is this Hal... what's his name?"

"Halbredan," Crayne replies. "Old Halbredan, my old mentor."

Karelth chuckles, "and he does mean old!"

"Yes, he very well could be in his final days now. But he lives here in Halen, on one of the side streets off the market square. I will remember instantly as we stroll down the avenue outside."

"I be wonderin'," Storm says, a piece of oatmeal dripping off his chin, "about that thar marketplace. I be needin' more rope after that stonethrower be rippin' it up!"

"I'm sure they'll have some," Alara says, smiling toward Storm. The breakfast seemed to make it as much in his mouth as on his face.

After breakfast, they gather their things and head out. The city is teeming with life, now. Carts are led down the street by horses and oxen, filled with oats and barrels of grapes and wine. Another cart is stopped in front of the blacksmith, unloading what appear to be crates of ore for the smith. There are children playing in the street, sliding across a long frozen puddle in a little game, seeing who can stay standing the longest.

Crayne leads the group through the market square, Storm spots a vendor with coils of rope, making a mental note to return later in the day. Then Crayne turns off onto a sidestreet. As he walks, his uncle by his side, he inspects the buildings, looking up to their second stories, trying to remember the correct one. Suddenly he stops, mumbling, "this here is it!" and walks up the stone steps to the front door.

After a few knocks, it opens slightly. It is a old woman, her white whispy hair fluttering in the cold winter breeze. She stands behind the door weakly, a bit intimidated by the large group standing outside.

"Marienna?" Crayne asks.

"Yes..." the woman responds, narrowing her eyes, tring to focus on the mage.

"Do you not remember me? It is Crayne, of Mistledale!"

"Crayne? Hmm... Oh yes! Crayne of Mistledale! How good to see you!" She smiles widely, revealing the few teeth she still has. Taking a step back she opens the door more fully and stands there, a bit hunched over. "Do come in, Crayne!"

She is startled as the entire group begins to converge on the doorway. "Do not fear, Marienna, they are all my friends. We are here to see Old Halbredan!"

"Halbredan, yes! He will be so pleased you have returned!" She leads them into the modest dwelling, where most of the party find places to sit on an old, dusty couch or on a few chair surrounding an oak table near the wood-burning stove. It is surprisingly dark in the room, with shadows engulfing the corners. "Halbredan?" Marienna says, looking toward one of these darkened corners, "will you greet Crayne?"

A small appears in the corner, casting a tiny bit of light on an outstretched palm just below it. Then an old face leans into the light, the lines and wrinkles betraying its ancient age. "I told you not to bother me when I am pondering!" Then the eyes scan the room slowly. "Eh...who are these people?"

"They are with Crayne, dear," she reminds him.

"Ah...well then...who?"

"Crayne!" she shouts across the room, holding a pot of something steaming in her hand.

"Rain?"

"It is me, Old Halbredan," Crayne says, approaching the old man hiding in the corner. "It is Crayne of Mistledale."

"Oh! Crayne of Mistledale! Why didn't you just say so? Is the soup ready?"

"Yes, dear," comes the response.

"Halbredan," Crayne continues, "We must speak with you. It is very important..."

Aside from the healing noted above, each character gains 4 hp natural healing for time spent sleeping during the course of this turn. So that should bring us to: Alara: 30/32, Canter: 36/36, Crayne: 19/15, Elloharin: 24/24, Emma: 42/42, Hannibal: 26/26, Skandor: 24/31, Storm: 44/44, Karelth: 11/11.

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