| May. 10th, 2007 @ 07:21 pm Storm of Madness, Part the First |
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Sebastian's Journal - entry written 24 Alturiak 1379
Concerning events commencing:
17 Alturiak 1379
Following the previous series of adventures, we spent six tendays at Stonegate Keep, resting and recuperating and training, et cetera. Sometime around the middle of Alturiak, Scar-Wolf came to the remainder of the group and told us he was going to the Sword Coast to stop a storm problem. He asked us if we wanted to come along and help him. I suppose I had a bit of cabin fever by this point. I thought it couldn't hurt to take a look.
We took the portal to the Triboar area and stepped out into a raging storm. "Storm problem", indeed. I was adjusting my cloak and hood so as to best keep the rain out of my face when a pair of giants appeared out of the deluge. Cordelia and her escort, France, told us of great unrest in the storm giant lands to the north. "My father, King Lear, is mad," Cordelia said. "He has cursed me such that if I set foot in his lands, I will suffer great pain and eventually die a painful death." Lovely. She and France apparently barely escaped with their lives: the male giant looked to have recently taken quite a beating. I offered them the protection of the soldiers at the small keep which housed the portal. Lear's madness was, Cordelia said, the cause of the terrible storms. If we could find and aid him, the storms would cease. "We shall investigate the matters in the north," I told her. After all, if the situation is not resolved, the storm will likely grow in intensity and size. In Waterdeep they'll likely not notice it for some time, but elsewhere people are going to think it's a problem. Not that I care what people think about a little rain. But if the Baron of the Stonelands and the Berdusk Blades can correct the problem, it will help our reputation. Alright, and if we ignore it no one else will likely fix it and eventually the entirety of Faerun could be overrun with the dangerous weather. And me, I like a bit of variety with my weather. My compatriots would be surprised to hear it, because they're fond of prejudging people and keeping their minds shut (with the exception of Scar-Wolf, I suppose), but I like the sunshine. I enjoy warm weather. Why do you think I left Waterdeep in the first place? Well, aside from Sabrina's bloodlust... you know what they say about a woman scorned? Well, I'm here to tell you: it's true.
I seem to have lost the track of the story. Long story short, we headed northward to see what we could do to solve the problem of the stormy weather and the curse of the insane giant.
Because the mountainous terrain would be too difficult for them to navigate, we left our mounts in the care of some of the Triboar keep's soldiers, who returned them to Stonegate Keep for us. After four days' travel we encountered a pack of hill giants, who threw boulders at us and otherwise acted in a most uncivilised manner. But what can one expect from hill giants? We made relatively short work of them, but fully eight of the dozen daggers I'd just had specially made for me in Arabel ran off in the stinking flesh of those brutes. Eight! What a time for me to decide to add a bit of style to my accoutrements! Perhaps, in time, after I return to Arabel and commission some more daggers, my stylish weaponry will end up in the hands of some lowly treasure-seeker who will know whose weapon he has had the fortune to stumble upon. Oh, who am I fooling? Those daggers were fairly plain in design. I'll spend some quality time designing the next batch. I wonder if I can get a pair enchanted to return after they've been thrown, such as the hairpins Shashaido used did. It certainly would be less encumbering to have two daggers rather than twelve. I should probably look into obtaining a Bag of Holding or somesuch as well. I've passed over a number of opportunities to obtain treasure because of the inconvenient nature of keeping a Portable Hole secret. Hard to quietly stash things away in a container which needs to be unrolled onto a wall when your companions are right nearby...
Bloody hill giants. I followed those who fled to a very large encampment of hill giants. At a glance I would say there were in excess of four score of the bastards, judging from those I could see moving about and the size of the multitude of tents. I overheard some of them talking about their plans: they were trying to decide whether they should invade the lands to the south or return to the north. Apparently they were awaiting the orders of King Lear, who, being mad, wasn't likely to give those orders, and so they were attempting to think for themselves. Always dangerous, that.
I returned to the group and relayed what information I'd uncovered. We decided to press on northward, but avoid the giant encampment. What, common sense? From this group? I'm shocked.
We wandered into a clearing in the forest, near a lake. The normal sounds one might expect to hear in a forest were absent, which put us on our guard. A group of birds took off in unison from the trees on the other side of the lake, and, moments later, a giant came crashing through the trees. His eyes looked to have been put out and his beard was short and disheveled, as if it had been ripped out. He was clearly in great pain and was thrashing about blindly. Scar-Wolf leapt onto the giant's back and knocked him out with his fists, then he and Bylera attempted to heal his wounds. When he awakened, the giant told us his name was Gloucester, and that he had been betrayed by Edmund, the bastard son of Lear. Gloucester suggested we find Edgar, who is Lear's legitimate son. Edgar, he said, had been thrown out of the kingdom by Lear, who had threatened him with death should he find him on his lands. We would find clues to Edgar's whereabouts at Gloucester's castle, which lay to the north, over a mountain.
After resting in Nanner's invisible hut, we journeyed on toward Gloucester's castle. The building sat at the center of a clearing in the forest and looked as if it had recently undergone a siege. One section of wall was completely collapsed, and the front of the castle sported a very large hole. Bugbears were in evidence, guarding the front of the keep and walking a patrol route on the roof. Scar-Wolf decided to make the most of the perpetual storm by calling lightning down onto the bugbear guards. Eventually, a handsome, one-armed storm giant emerged from the castle. He spied Scar-Wolf, who had walked out of the cover of the forest and now stood in clear sight of anyone in the castle. He called to the giant that he wanted to talk, but the giant wasn't having any of it, and returned the request with a threat. A number of bugbears rushed from the castle to attack. Scar-Wolf dispatched them with ease. This didn't bother the giant, who decided to take matters into his own hands, as well as call out another group of bugbears to make life difficult for Scar-Wolf.
While our half-orc companion stood toe-to-toe with the giant, I stealthily worked my way around the edge of the clearing until I reached the back of the castle. Utilising my magical boots, I walked straight up the rear wall. When I reached the top, I found that Scar-Wolf had defeated the giant and that the bugbears had fled from the roof, presumably to run for their lives. I found it simple to enter the castle from the rooftop stairway. I explored the upper floor for a time, finding some small treasures and a pair of books. One of the books seemed a storybook entitled "Poor Tom Turleygood". I could not read the other, but not for lack of language. It seemed to me that the words written on the pages were not meant for the likes of me somehow. I suspected magic, and packed the tome away.
Most interestingly, I discovered a wardrobe in a bedroom whose top shelf held three giant-sized chests. I found each chest was full of a different variety of coin: platinum, gold, and silver, in both human-sized and giant-sized coins. I risked opening the Portable Hole and scooped into it as much coin as I thought I could safely scoop before the others arrived. I also found a large carpet in the bottom of the chest. "I wonder if this might be another flying carpet," I thought. "We could use one, since our last one went off with Boone last year." I pushed it off the shelf so I could collect it later. Shortly the rest of the party arrived. Scar-Wolf, on leaping up to join me on the shelf, decided the chest holding the gold should be broken open so as to better collect the coin within. We both got down from the shelf, so as not to be accidentally Nanner obliged with a flurry of lance of disruption spells, which eventually shattered the chest, sending a shower of gold coins down from the shelf.
To be continued... |
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bastcirro's journal
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