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Chapter Eighteen: In the Shadow of the Maiden of Pain!

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Luna raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of the small figure, her mind already set to release some deadly spells if it turns out that this is an attack of some sort. But from the comments of the person, she slowly eases back on her guard. A gnome or halfling. At first glance, in a dark chamber like this, either one could easily pass for a human child. Which one do we have here? And what is the story behind it?

She says, "Ok, you are not a human child. Would you please tell us who you are and how it is that you came falling from the roof of the cave literally into the arms of our comrade? Oh, I'm Luna Calllen, by the way. Well met, and all that."
Level: 13
Class: Wizard
Hit Points: 74 +1d6
Action Points: 11 / 10
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 18 - 24 Mage Armor II. +2 from Ring of Force Shield
Touch AC: 14 Flat Footed: 22

Initiative Bonus: 2
Fortitude Save: +6
Reflex Save: +7
Will Save: +16

Base Attack: +6 / +1
Melee: +4 / -1
Ranged: +8 / +3

Extended Mage Armor II active for the next 26 hours

Spells memorized:
Cantrips (4): Mage Hand, Light, Detect Magic, Read Magic
1 (7): Magic Missile x4, Shield x2, Unseen Servant
2 (7): Web x2, Protection From Arrows x2, Glitterdust x2, Scorching Ray
3 (6): Haste x2, Fireball x2, Slow, Lightning Bolt
4 (5): Empowered Scorching Ray x3, Ball Lightning x2
5 (5): Cone of Cold x2, Empowered Fireball x2
6 (4): Chain Lightning
7 (2): Prismatic Spray, Mage Sword

+7 damage to all Evoker spells
 
Instead, he grimaces at those words. Like he's in pain when they are spoken. Calling him a child... he r responds in the only way that his mind can think of - to mention the obvious. "Not a child." Well, obvious for everyone who cares to take a second glance. Like one should, right? it's only polite. "Always been on good terms with Mielikki, so maybe it still counts?" The wits has caught up to save the day. Turn it into a somewhat decent first impression, if falling from heights and grumbling still allows for that. "If you could set me down, please? I've learnt how to walk two decades ago. Oh, and thanks for the save. Must've been fate that you were around."
"It may well have been." Alisa admitted while setting the person down upon his feet, recalling how her involvement with the Wayward Wanderers had been preceded by a sign from her goddess.
 
"It may well have been."
"It was." The sudden arrival says that with certainty as he - back on his own feet - tidies up his appearance to be somewhat presentable. What everyone sees is rather tall halfling - which, compared to other races, really doesn't count for much. The white hair is kept somewhat at bay by a headband after quick adjustments; its color does not match the young-looking face. His long, dark blue cloak looks like it was expensive once, but now shows the wear and stains of much adventuring. Still, it is in a presentable state, proving to be a good investment day after day.
He stands bare-footed, though pieces of cloth are wrapped around his ankles. The left hand shows the dark discolorations of ink, as it's sometimes the cases for scribes, merchants and the like. The right hand is covered in a spiky steel gauntlet. A heavy shield on his back and a breastplate peeking out of his pack (there was no need to don it in the kobolds' camp before it was too late) tell that he is no stranger to warfare - the lack of muscle and several talismans (probably religious in nature) around his neck give away that he's probably more than just a simple fighter.

She says, "Ok, you are not a human child. Would you please tell us who you are and how it is that you came falling from the roof of the cave literally into the arms of our comrade? Oh, I'm Luna Calllen, by the way. Well met, and all that."

"Whitehair", he finally addresses the question of the woman called Luna, "Aldrin Whitehair. From Hobbitcrest." He makes a point to emphasize his race that happens to be part of his hometown's name. Quite the coincidence, that, isn't it? Then, his eyes, blue and with the hint of hard-earnt wisdom in them, muster the ceiling as if pondering the very same question that Luna just asked. "Dunno what happened. I was with the kobolds. A storm came. Chaos ensued. I hit my head when they tried to drag me to safety. Wouldn't even let me try to help. Anyway, I blacked out. Woke up hearing your voices, and that's pretty much that."
 
What does Kaerri Rainshadow do?
Kaerri pauses a moment to listen, avoiding the sad gaze of the kobolds. It hurts to look at them and feel helpless, but she can't do anything directly to help them right now, so she continues on with her indirect help -- sneaking up on their captors. She does a sort of mental nod in response to Wave, then softly begins to creep forward. Then the earth moves beneath her, as the deck of a ship moves on the ocean, and she drops to all fours and presses up against the wall of the tunnel, tugging up the collar of her shirt to keep the dust out of her nose and mouth so she won't sneeze. After a long ten seconds, the shaking finally stops. The shadowdancer brushes the dust off and stands, looking warily up at the ceiling, but it seems the earthquake is over for now. Time to get moving again.

Silently she sneaks up to the bend in the tunnel. It's a pity she'd arrived within earshot a smidge too late to hear who they were talking about. She wonders if it would be of any use to eavesdrop a little longer, and decides to stop there, just out of sight, and see if the giants' next few minutes of conversation will reveal King Thund'rous' target.
 
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Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus Tag!

Part 1 of 2 (The Wayward Wanderers minus Kaerri Rainshadow)

Instead, he grimaces at those words. Like he's in pain when they are spoken. Calling him a child... he r responds in the only way that his mind can think of - to mention the obvious. "Not a child."

"By the radiance of Ra!" Mamapaw gasps as she hears his voice, her own is thick with a crisp accent not easily placed (if at all). Then she notes his feet. "No child indeed!" Closing her eyes, the minotaur-sized cat-creature dips her head in a bow of apology. As with Alisa before, Aldrin has never before seen a person like the Felane Druidess in her blood-red leather armor, large curved scimitar, and acorn-shaped shield. "Do pardon me! We do not have your folk in my lands. You are... a... what again?"

"Whitehair", he finally addresses the question of the woman called Luna, "Aldrin Whitehair. From Hobbitcrest." He makes a point to emphasize his race that happens to be part of his hometown's name. Quite the coincidence, that, isn't it? Then, his eyes, blue and with the hint of hard-earnt wisdom in them, muster the ceiling as if pondering the very same question that Luna just asked. "Dunno what happened. I was with the kobolds. A storm came. Chaos ensued. I hit my head when they tried to drag me to safety. Wouldn't even let me try to help. Anyway, I blacked out. Woke up hearing your voices, and that's pretty much that."

"Hobbit! Hobbit, yes." She nods, her red eyes wide and staring at his small form. Then an odd thought strikes her. Looking up to the ceiling, she looks back to Aldrin. "I thought you a creature born out of the very earth just now. I thought the earthquake was some sort of birthing pains of the ground! And you weren't even scared by the fall; I would have been frightened witless! May I see to the bump on your head? Child or no, a good Felane mother must ask, you know."

Aldrin's bump is definitely still there. There is an aching on the left side of the front of his head, but thankfully, there is much bone there to protect him. His own healing knowledge tells him the bump will prove more a bothersome nuisance than anything more serious.
 
(Part 2 of 2 - Kaerri Rainshadow)
Silently she sneaks up to the bend in the tunnel. It's a pity she'd arrived within earshot a smidge too late to hear who they were talking about. She wonders if it would be of any use to eavesdrop a little longer, and decides to stop there, just out of sight, and see if the giants' next few minutes of conversation will reveal King Thund'rous' target.

Except that after their cheer, the conversation of the towering Storm Lords flows on to another topic.

"And what did the wind tell you here in this cave?" asks a young-sounding Storm Lord.

The King of the Storm Lords takes a breath and sighs. "It was Wave! How could I forget the sensation of the weapon that stole my eye right out of its socket?"

"Aye, aye," the young voice moans with impatience. "But was there aught else? Wave is a great treasure. What of the one wielding him now?"

"You would be a fool to think Wave easy pluckings, but..." King Thun'drous sniffs again as if doing so would help him relive the memory. "... there is the scent of womanness. Of... woodly things with the strange meandering scent all fey seem to have."

The Storm Lords murmur. And grumble.

"Ah, yes!" Kaerri sees not the giants themselves, for she has wisely stayed out of sight. But the massive shadows they display caused by their blue-white lamp is another story. The King of the Storm Lords strokes his beard and then straightens in surprise. "Yes, yes!"

"What is it?"

"Asgardian metal!"

"Whaaat?!"

"Aye! I would wager my remaining eye and live blind if I lost! This female wielder of Wave either holds or wears Asgardian metal of some great finery!"

"Well, what are we waiting for? Where else to find loot like that here on this realm of midgets and pipsqueaks?" One shadow rises tall opposite the king. But the king's hand comes up, his palm facing the warrior.

"Nay! I gave my word I would parley peacefully with her. Now that I have told you, am I not responsible for the ills that befell one to whom I have pledged toward?"

"Oh, this again!" cries the youth. "Honor! Precious honor!" He spits against the wall and it sticks. "Honor is a thing that has long outlasted its usefulness. E'en now, it stands between us and... Asgardian metal! How else but to gain Asgard are we to come by that?"

"Perhaps you are not meant to come by it at all!" says the king.

"We live for plunder! For challenges! You stand in my way?"

"You know the rules, pup! Take my head in fair combat and the crown is yours, just as I did the king before me!"

"I think I shall, old fool!"

And suddenly, all hell breaks loose as the Storm Lords do battle right then and there! The youth draws a huge one-handed axe that looks like it could cleave through a house in one blow. Yet, the battle seems as brief as the flight of an arrow. With nothing in his hands, the king offers the naked skin of neck and the lustful youth, fully confident in his speed and prowess, takes the invitation and swings. There is a spinning of bodies followed by a sickening sound of steel meeting flesh. Both men become rigid. Even their shadows seem to stare into each other's eyes.

Kaerri sees clearly - the youth's axe has wound up firmly embedded in the back of the youth's neck. As with most such cases, his body has frozen still lest the steel bite deeper. That telltale gasp of horror comes bubbling from his lips as oft happens when one's body is pierced gravely.

What happens next is the stuff of fairy tales!

The king rears back his fist. The youth's eyes fill with helpless terror as the the king roars, "You... GET OUT OF MY CAVE!"

On the word "cave," the great king strikes! With terrific force and immaculate technique, The King of the Storm Lords sends his bare fist into the younger Storm Lords' face with such speed and power as to use the axe's own sharpness to decapitate the warrior! As if by sorcery, his howling head goes sailing off of his shoulders while his bleeding corpse collapses loudly against the stony earth. The bearded head, carried by unseen winds, roars unceasingly - his terrible death cry filling the ears of all who hear it.

That giant disembodied thing flies past Kaerri. The three kobolds dare to look up, their mouths dropping wide open. Over the Wayward Wanderers (who heard the king's great roar, word for word), the tumbling head soars carried along as if by great invisible wings!

"Bastet's eyes!" Mamapaw exclaims as she ducks instinctively. And the head sails on and on and out of the cave!

What do the Wayward Wanderers (plus Alisa and Aldrin) do?
 
(Bonus!)

Outside, unbeknownst to all within the caverns, Bria of the Ko pleads beside a bored-looking Powerpaw to the Kobolds of the Silver Sun. The tribe is still and obedient. They do not move. They hardly even blink.

"Come now!" cries Bria. "You can't just stay out here! You'll starve to death! Then where will your tribe be? You have to come with us into the Wayward Wagon! There is food, warmth, and best of all, safety! Won't at least one of you join me?"

They hear. The poor, pitiful creatures shiver with fear but otherwise sit as still as stones. Oh, but they hear. Their ears are wide open as are their eyes. It is their minds that are closed. And firmly shut.

Powerpaw yawns and keeps the lookout, unwilling to waste his breath any further trying to persuade the stubborn young monk to still herself. And so, she continues trying.

"Look! What if we can somehow prove to you that we can beat those giants? Would you come with us then? If anyone can beat those giants, the Wayward Wanderers can!"

Some of the sickly-thin kobolds appear sad when she says this. Doubt fills their faces. A couple even shake their heads slightly. Their wispy hope has vanished.

Then, without warning, a great soul-chilling screaming comes forth from the cave mouth! All eyes turn towards the cave where the Wayward Wanderers entered. Out from it, a huge bearded head comes out and away carried along by unseen hands. Once out of the cave, its voice ceases to cry. It falls to the earth, tumbles end over end like a boulder, and finally comes to a sloppy rest upside down in a grisly grin. The decapitated head of the Storm Lords moves no more.

Everyone present gasps in unison! The kobolds look at one another, look at the wagon, and then every last one of them gets up and goes running towards it as fast as their little feet can carry them! The threshold imprisoning them, they fly. They push, shove, and help stuff each other into the wagon's sole doorway, disappearing into it like water being poured down a drain.

Powerpaw in fighting stance whirls and stares at the giant's head. Bria does much the same. They look back at the cave where the Wayward Wanderers went and in unison, they say...

"I guess they finally got serious!"

Bria beams and giggles in pure delight. "They sure do work fast!"

"By Bastet's big boobies, dey sure does!"

"Come on, Fuzzy Goof!" Bria like only monks can, following the kobolds inside. "We've got to help our new guests!" Happily, she runs along, her hands stretched out, her fingers reaching as if she could catch the breeze in them.

"Oh brudder," Powerpaw drops down and charges along on all fours. "Stewart's gonna looove dis!"
 
Oreleth blinks in surprise. "Well, we seem to have one less giant to worry about. But this king giant sounds like he will be a handful if we have to fight him. Lets hope Kaerri has some success in her parlay with this king." I wonder if I made a mistake leaving Powerpaw on the outside of the cave. His martial skill would come in handy right about now. No sense in trying to second guess yourself, girl. You made your choice, now go forward and help the kobolds. The Wayward Wanderers will prevail here!
Attacks per Round:
1st - Manyshot (firing two arrows). "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 2d8+12 (+6 Base damage).
2nd - Improved Vital Strike. "To Hit:" +13 (+15 Second Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 3d8+6 (Improved Vital Strike, +6 Base damage).
3rd - Normal Attack. "To Hit:" +8 (+10 Third Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
4th - Rapid Shot Bonus Attack. "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
+1d6 per arrow of either Cold, Fire or Electrical from Arcane Archer class.
-3 to hit/+6 Damage from Deadly Aim

Hit Points: 91 +d10 per level
Action Points: 11 / 11
Bonus Action Point: 1 / 1
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 24
CMD: 26
Fort Save: +9
Reflex Save: +13
Will Save: +6 (+11 vs Fear)
Perception: +15

Spells Memorized
Cantrips: Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost, Message
1: Shield x2, Shocking Grasp x2, Burning Hands
2: Flaming Sphere, Glitterdust x2, Web
3: Fireball x2
+3 damage to Evoker spells.
 
Luna looks in shock and a bit of Eeeeeew! as she sees the head go bouncing along down the cave. "That's. Gross. And a bit disturbing. Kaerri, did you want me to cast that Protection from Arrows spell on you? I am thinking that it would be a good idea."
Level: 13
Class: Wizard
Hit Points: 74 +1d6
Action Points: 11 / 10
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 18 - 24 Mage Armor II. +2 from Ring of Force Shield
Touch AC: 14 Flat Footed: 22

Initiative Bonus: 2
Fortitude Save: +6
Reflex Save: +7
Will Save: +16

Base Attack: +6 / +1
Melee: +4 / -1
Ranged: +8 / +3

Extended Mage Armor II active for the next 26 hours

Spells memorized:
Cantrips (4): Mage Hand, Light, Detect Magic, Read Magic
1 (7): Magic Missile x4, Shield x2, Unseen Servant
2 (7): Web x2, Protection From Arrows x2, Glitterdust x2, Scorching Ray
3 (6): Haste x2, Fireball x2, Slow, Lightning Bolt
4 (5): Empowered Scorching Ray x3, Ball Lightning x2
5 (5): Cone of Cold x2, Empowered Fireball x2
6 (4): Chain Lightning
7 (2): Prismatic Spray, Mage Sword

+7 damage to all Evoker spells
 
A fine notion. Except that Kaerri is not there to ask.

Silently she sneaks up to the bend in the tunnel. It's a pity she'd arrived within earshot a smidge too late to hear who they were talking about. She wonders if it would be of any use to eavesdrop a little longer, and decides to stop there, just out of sight, and see if the giants' next few minutes of conversation will reveal King Thund'rous' target.
 
Oreleth blinks in surprise. "Well, we seem to have one less giant to worry about. But this king giant sounds like he will be a handful if we have to fight him. Lets hope Kaerri has some success in her parlay with this king." I wonder if I made a mistake leaving Powerpaw on the outside of the cave. His martial skill would come in handy right about now. No sense in trying to second guess yourself, girl. You made your choice, now go forward and help the kobolds. The Wayward Wanderers will prevail here!
"First a Hobbit, then the head of a giant...what else is this cave going to shoot out?" Alisa muttered to herself before turning to Oreleth.

"Let's hope that whoever that head belonged to was causing trouble for Kaerri in the parlay." she said, pointing in the direction of the cave's exit with her thumb.
 
"Do pardon me! We do not have your folk in my lands. You are... a... what again?"
"It's alright", the halfling responds, though his voice betrays that it stings all the same. "It happens." Way too often. People aren't used to his kind; at least not as close to the dangers as he tends to be. Still, there's no need to say that out loud - his voice gives those thoughts away well enough already.
"Hobbit! Hobbit, yes." She nods, her red eyes wide and staring at his small form. Then an odd thought strikes her. Looking up to the ceiling, she looks back to Aldrin. "I thought you a creature born out of the very earth just now. I thought the earthquake was some sort of birthing pains of the ground! And you weren't even scared by the fall; I would have been frightened witless! May I see to the bump on your head? Child or no, a good Felane mother must ask, you know."
"There's no need to be afraid when nothing bad will happen." He shrugs like it's the most natural thing to know when one falls down like that. "And this..." - his hand reaches out for the bump, carefully feeling how bad it might be - "is nothing I couldn't take care of myself. Nothing to worry about. really. Thanks for the offer."
"Bastet's eyes!" Mamapaw exclaims as she ducks instinctively.
He makes a mental note about Felane and, perhaps more importantly, Bastet. For him, it has never hurt to know which gods might meddle. With the thundering voice and flying heads, this seems not like the right moment to inquire, however. Instead, he looks after the head for a moment - staying calm as if these kind of things would happen around him more often than they should - and then sets down his backpack. Quickly, his hands retrieve the breastplate, and begin to don it over his cloth. Where flying heads are a thing, protection never hurts. While he musters the odd group of people around him, he asks what seems to be the most important question, right now. "So one of you is further down? Begs the question what you are here for. And why it's you and not the kobolds finding me."
 
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Kaerri-by-peritwinkle-sm.png

Art by Peritwinkle
Character sheet
Hit Points: 99/99
Armor Class: 27
Touch Armor Class: 17
Shadow Illusion: 3/3
Shadow Call: 2/2
Shadow Jump distance: 80/80 feet
Defensive Roll: 1/1
Rogue Talent Resiliency: 1/1
Stinger -- uses of Slow remaining: 3/3
Charm of Bastet -- uses of Cat's Grace remaining: 1/1
Action Points: 14

Well... that's one down, at least. And she's learned something important about the giant king's battle prowess -- namely, that it's nothing to trifle with. Noted. On the other hand, fascinating though it had been to her personally, the conversation didn't really reveal much of importance to the party's mission. Except that Thund'rous has a really good nose, and is no fool. Also noted. And that he has honor worth killing over, which is a distinct point of comfort to the solitary half-elf about to reveal herself to him. It would be ironic (and amusing) if it turned into a grand melee, Kaerri and Thun'drous vs. all the other giants. Alas, his demonstration just now will probably prevent that. Oh well. Enough stalling.

She takes a deep breath, glances once at her shadow and once at her trident, and tugs at her hood to make sure it covers her rainbow-colored head. Then she lets her hiding ability fade and walks with confidence (or is it bravado?) around the bend and well into the giants' presumed line of sight. "Hello there."
 
"So one of you is further down? Begs the question what you are here for. And why it's you and not the kobolds finding me."
Oreleth quietly replies, "We are here to help the kobolds with their plight. We didn't know it was giants that were terrorizing them until we got here, but it makes little difference. One way or another, we will help them with their dilemma. In this task, we are resolute."
Attacks per Round:
1st - Manyshot (firing two arrows). "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 2d8+12 (+6 Base damage).
2nd - Improved Vital Strike. "To Hit:" +13 (+15 Second Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 3d8+6 (Improved Vital Strike, +6 Base damage).
3rd - Normal Attack. "To Hit:" +8 (+10 Third Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
4th - Rapid Shot Bonus Attack. "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
+1d6 per arrow of either Cold, Fire or Electrical from Arcane Archer class.
-3 to hit/+6 Damage from Deadly Aim

Hit Points: 91 +d10 per level
Action Points: 11 / 11
Bonus Action Point: 1 / 1
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 24
CMD: 26
Fort Save: +9
Reflex Save: +13
Will Save: +6 (+11 vs Fear)
Perception: +15

Spells Memorized
Cantrips: Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost, Message
1: Shield x2, Shocking Grasp x2, Burning Hands
2: Flaming Sphere, Glitterdust x2, Web
3: Fireball x2
+3 damage to Evoker spells.
 
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Luna nods in agreement with Oreleth. "She's right. It would be best if we didn't end up like that," she points out towards the severed head, "But in any case, we will save these fellows from their plight. I wonder if it will be possible to talk our way through this."
Level: 13
Class: Wizard
Hit Points: 74 +1d6
Action Points: 11 / 10
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 18 - 24 Mage Armor II. +2 from Ring of Force Shield
Touch AC: 14 Flat Footed: 22

Initiative Bonus: 2
Fortitude Save: +6
Reflex Save: +7
Will Save: +16

Base Attack: +6 / +1
Melee: +4 / -1
Ranged: +8 / +3

Extended Mage Armor II active for the next 26 hours

Spells memorized:
Cantrips (4): Mage Hand, Light, Detect Magic, Read Magic
1 (7): Magic Missile x4, Shield x2, Unseen Servant
2 (7): Web x2, Protection From Arrows x2, Glitterdust x2, Scorching Ray
3 (6): Haste x2, Fireball x2, Slow, Lightning Bolt
4 (5): Empowered Scorching Ray x3, Ball Lightning x2
5 (5): Cone of Cold x2, Empowered Fireball x2
6 (4): Chain Lightning
7 (2): Prismatic Spray, Mage Sword

+7 damage to all Evoker spells
 
"Well... until last night, I knew nothing about their plight, and even less about those giants. And now, I only know a little more. Neither what happened - nor what should happen. Only that my path led me here, and that it's the gods' will that I'm standing here, now." He looks down the path, were the head came from. "So let me offer my help, for a time. If it's talking that's needed, I won't be too much of a hindrance. And if it goes further than that - I'm blessed with gifts that will be more than helpful."

He eyes the group, focused on the various forms of protection they seem to make use of. "If there is the chance of danger ahead - and it sounds like it - then I can offer to enchant armor and shields. A first thanks for getting caught just now, so to speak." His gaze returns to Oreleth; mostly because she answered his last question first. "You mentioned the kobolds, but not why they aren't here. How did things turn out, last night?"
 
Oreleth looks over at Aldrin and says, "I think that I speak for all of us when I say that any assistance you can provide to us in this endeavor would be gladly accepted. Thank you. I am Oreleth Soumral, by the way, and we are a band of travelers known as the Wayward Wanderers. We are here in place of the kobolds because their spirits are broken, ground down under the heels of these giants that have struck their village many times. Some of them came and found us at Highwind and asked for help, and here we are."
Attacks per Round:
1st - Manyshot (firing two arrows). "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 2d8+12 (+6 Base damage).
2nd - Improved Vital Strike. "To Hit:" +13 (+15 Second Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 3d8+6 (Improved Vital Strike, +6 Base damage).
3rd - Normal Attack. "To Hit:" +8 (+10 Third Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
4th - Rapid Shot Bonus Attack. "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
+1d6 per arrow of either Cold, Fire or Electrical from Arcane Archer class.
-3 to hit/+6 Damage from Deadly Aim

Hit Points: 91 +d10 per level
Action Points: 11 / 11
Bonus Action Point: 1 / 1
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 24 / +3 AC for 13 hours
CMD: 26
Fort Save: +9
Reflex Save: +13
Will Save: +6 (+11 vs Fear)
Perception: +15

Spells Memorized
Cantrips: Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost, Message
1: Shield x2, Shocking Grasp x2, Burning Hands
2: Flaming Sphere, Glitterdust x2, Web
3: Fireball x2
+3 damage to Evoker spells.
 
The pyromancer smiles, saying, "And I'm Luna Calllen! And yes, it would be wonderful of you to enchant our clothes to make them stronger, even for a little while, thank you!" Her fingers twitch, as if wanting to start casting spells all on their own. She asks of the group, "You don't suppose that anything bad has happened to Kaerri, do you? I am so worried for her! Should we move in closer or continue to wait here?"
Level: 13
Class: Wizard
Hit Points: 74 +1d6
Action Points: 11 / 10
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 18 - 24 Mage Armor II. +2 from Ring of Force Shield
Touch AC: 14 Flat Footed: 22

Initiative Bonus: 2
Fortitude Save: +6
Reflex Save: +7
Will Save: +16

Base Attack: +6 / +1
Melee: +4 / -1
Ranged: +8 / +3

Extended Mage Armor II active for the next 26 hours

Spells memorized:
Cantrips (4): Mage Hand, Light, Detect Magic, Read Magic
1 (7): Magic Missile x4, Shield x2, Unseen Servant
2 (7): Web x2, Protection From Arrows x2, Glitterdust x2, Scorching Ray
3 (6): Haste x2, Fireball x2, Slow, Lightning Bolt
4 (5): Empowered Scorching Ray x3, Ball Lightning x2
5 (5): Cone of Cold x2, Empowered Fireball x2
6 (4): Chain Lightning
7 (2): Prismatic Spray, Mage Sword

+7 damage to all Evoker spells
 
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Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus Tag!

OOC note for all
the following conversation - at least from the giants' side - is heard even by the Wayward Wanderers. You cannot hear Kaerri Rainshadow or anything her size, but the giants are now past being quiet. Thus, they are loud enough for you to hear through the tunnels which you share.

She takes a deep breath, glances once at her shadow and once at her trident, and tugs at her hood to make sure it covers her rainbow-colored head. Then she lets her hiding ability fade and walks with confidence (or is it bravado?) around the bend and well into the giants' presumed line of sight. "Hello there."

Upon doing so, Kaerri discovers a great amount in a very short period of time. Towering above her, clad in magnificent chain mail and plate mail dotted with furs as if it were all part of their very being, are great and powerful beings well-beyond those lumbering tribes of hill giants that roam the Hunderhills nearby. Without the shadows to play their games, Kaerri can now accurately determine their true numbers - there are no less than fourteen Storm Giants massed here. They are armed with a fantastic array of axes, swords, clubs, daggers, and halberds each gleaming and looking as if they could slice through a hearty man in a single stroke. Their shields seem as high as the walls of a keep, their helms dotted with ornamental wings, lightning bolts, and pointed spires. Their muscled might is unmistakable - alone, one of these could pound the Wayward Wagon into a wreckage of cracked boards and worthless splinters. Their faces are like wild men with lofty beards and battle scars colored proudly into strange and fascinating tattoos of barbaric nature. They turn and glare at Kaerri as one.

And yet, it does not take a master rogue to see that these are two groups, not one. Eight stand tall against a younger four while a fifth lies headless in a reeking pool of his own blood while others look on. But one among them is more impressive than the rest - gray-haired with a mannerism full of vitality and fighting vigor, he wears a platinum crown bedecked with jewels that shines on his heavily-creased brow. His beard is like an angry stormcloud. His plate armor, aged and marked by countless attempts on his life, cannot hide the huge, steely muscles that carry it along. One of his eyes is covered by a huge patch of mithril, but it is his remaining eye that seems crackle with life and lust for violence. No timid aging man awaiting death here but a creature of the wild sheathed in steel, bloodied by earth-shaking battles, and from the look of the scene around him, he is all the ready for more!

He glances at Kaerri and the wind about her moves as if stirred by unseen spirits. He closes his reddened mouth and sniffs only to exhale with a smile like a man tasting good ale after too long a trek. Throwing stealth to the wind now that he has been found out, this leader of Storm Giants barks out laughter that tells of true mirth!

He opens his bare hands and takes a step towards Kaerri that makes the world beneath her feet quiver. Beside her, the three kobold scouts have fainted from the sudden sight of her. They are limp little forms in the dark hardly noticed by their masters. But Kaerri the Master Rogue? Having appeared from the shadows just now like some kind of ghost? Oh, she holds the Storm Lords attention well for the time being.

Their king smiles down, his hands on his great hips, as if this were his own hall. "Ahh! Waaave!" he roars at Kaerri's trident as if it were a welcome friend. "May your golden tines never cease to shine, plucker of mine eye! Where is Mareus Courageous of Auremia? Where is the valiant high priest of Poseidon? I would like for him to smite me again just to feel his terrific rage!"

Wave answers, his voice bold and unmistakably proud, yet touched by sorrow. "Hail, Thun'drous, King of all Storm Lords! Know ye Mareus is dead! Age has claimed him, for was he not human? Mareus of Poseidon has passed with untold honor and grace unto Olympus where bards sing of his excellent voyages night and day!"

"Aaagh!" The King of the Storm Lords cries out and doubles over as if terribly wounded. His men shout and step forth to aid him but they soon realize this is a cut no living man can tender nor heal. For one long soft moment, the giant king holds his own moment of silence, his face wracked with pain, for time takes all things and again he is reminded that nothing in this world is permanent.

"Ahhh... Mareus!" King Thun'drus looks heavenward. "How I shall miss thee! I can hear him now! 'Repent, foolish king, and repent all ye with ye! For the wild winds and blasting storms of the sea know but ONE master! And his name... is POSEIDON!!'" Again comes his great laughter and when it dies down, the Lord of Lords looks down to Kaerri and studies her. He tells her, "Mareus of Poseidon was the first and only being to dub me 'fool' and live to tell the tale. And time has taken him from me!" His fist swishes harshly through the air and the wind follows it. "Blast it! Blast it all to ashes! But who are you?"

He motions and his men move away from the sparkling, crackling stormlight that gives radiance to this cavern. "Come to the edge of the light, Wielder of Wave. You have my most solemn word that - in this moment - we shall parley and treat! We shall speak of fates and designs! And if you are of a mind, you will tell me why you have ventured here to me? You cannot be alone!"

He inhales deeply, filling his lungs, and a great sweeping wind comes dancing down the tunnels! Far, but not distant, the Wayward Wanderers are caressed by a gentle drifting wind that passes by into the cavern.

* * *​

The following is known instantly to Oreleth, Aldrin, and Mamapaw due to what they are.

Oreleth is a wood elf. She was born in the Forest Eternal where wood elves daily sing Corellon Larethian's praises. The wild is known to them. And Oreleth knows without asking... that winds do not by themselves travel this far down caverns unless something made them act thus!

Aldrin of Hobbitcrest gets what his folk would call a "queer feeling" as the wind ruffles his hair and clothing. That wind, he knows, belongs to someone! That was no normal breeze or simple trick of nature!

Mamapaw's goes instantly still. The fur on her hackles rises and her face grimaces into a snarl as she holds the Maul of the Titans in a death-grip. With no small amount of cautious, she tells everyone present with her, "Winds... do not blow in this manner!"

* * *​

The King of the Storm Lords returns to smiling and a handsome smile he has. It is one thing time has not stolen from him. "Ah! You are not alone!" His men reach for their weapons and grin savagely in expectation of blood and battle, but their king's open hand stays them. "Let the parley begin!" he states with a stomp of his foot. He stares down at Kaerri with his one good eye.

"What do you here, Wielder of Wave? You move and slink like rogues whom I find unfathomable. Are you on the side of Loviatar and thus eager for the treasures she promises? Or..." he chuckles, "...are you here against the Maiden of Pain? Perhaps she has displeased Poseidon somehow? Or are you here on your own curiosity?" He repeats his request. "Step here," he marks a spot easy for Kaerri to retreat from if she so chose to, "to the edge of the light where I can see you plainly, if you will!"

What do the Wayward Wanderers do?
 
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Time is precious to begin with - Aldrin knows that better than many. And now... it seems like there's little of it left where preparations are concerned. That allies of theirs was spotted, or so he figures. And that breeze, controlled by magic or other means, perhaps... it betrayed the group's presence as well, if the thundering voice's words can be trusted. "If they know of our presence - it would be better to get closer to your friend, I'd reckon. Easier to be there in time if needed, then."

As he speaks, his hands already begin to form runic symbols in the air, shortly followed by whispered phrases that he could not write down himself, even if he tried. He is not a wizard, after all, just gifted. Gifted to glimpse into the future, and see which words and gestures will keep the flow of magic going until he achieves a result. He knows that one - a spell to reinforce the armor of others. But the casting itself is always different, unpredictable. His first casting of the spell - it comes with blue, glowing runes in the thin air - is aimed at Alisa; as he finishes the words, the runes gently fly over, hitting the unusual armor not everywhere, but only wherever his gifts predict the additional protection to be actually needed. The second cast will reinforce his shield with a purple glow that only fades after a brief moment, but offers the same effect - if there is enough time, a greenish glow will also reinforce Oreleth's armor as well.

"This might do some good, if things go badly." he turns towards where the voices come from. "What will it be? Joining the conversation, just getting closer, or waiting here for it to end? You know your companion better than I do - and the other party as well. My intuition tells me that I did not arrive to simply listen in; but to confirm would take longer than this conversation might last."

Magic vestment offers a +3 enhancement bonus to Alisa's armor, Aldrin's steel shield, and Oreleth's armor - in that order, sonce Oreleth's armor is already enchanted and the effects don't stack.
 
Upon doing so, Kaerri discovers a great amount in a very short period of time. Towering above her, clad in magnificent chain mail and plate mail dotted with furs as if it were all part of their very being, are great and powerful beings well-beyond those lumbering tribes of hill giants that roam the Hunderhills nearby. Without the shadows to play their games, Kaerri can now accurately determine their true numbers - there are no less than fourteen Storm Giants massed here. They are armed with a fantastic array of axes, swords, clubs, daggers, and halberds each gleaming and looking as if they could slice through a hearty man in a single stroke. Their shields seem as high as the walls of a keep, their helms dotted with ornamental wings, lightning bolts, and pointed spires. Their muscled might is unmistakable - alone, one of these could pound the Wayward Wagon into a wreckage of cracked boards and worthless splinters. Their faces are like wild men with lofty beards and battle scars colored proudly into strange and fascinating tattoos of barbaric nature. They turn and glare at Kaerri as one.
That same sight gives the shadowdancer to wonder if she's made a very bad mistake. It's too late to turn back now, though, and the same courage that helped her push past her fear of heights until it no longer impeded her gives her strength to face the storm giance without flinching. And further viewing leads to further discoveries -- they might glare as one, but that doesn't mean they all think as one. The corpse on the floor is proof enough of that, and the rest of the younger giants might be submissive for the moment, but that doesn't mean they aren't resentful, and might well be planning for vengeance or just their own challenges. But probably they'll wait to see how the parley goes. Probably. She waits politely while Wave and Thund'rous converse; her joining in isn't necessary and might well be disrespectful. She sure doesn't want the giant king to think her disrespectful just now, lest it be considered a violation of the parley.

The King of the Storm Lords returns to smiling and a handsome smile he has. It is one thing time has not stolen from him. "Ah! You are not alone!" His men reach for their weapons and grin savagely in expectation of blood and battle, but their king's open hand stays them. "Let the parley begin!" he states with a stomp of his foot. He stares down at Kaerri with his one good eye.

"What do you here, Wielder of Wave? You move and slink like rogues whom I find unfathomable. Are you on the side of Loviatar and thus eager for the treasures she promises? Or..." he chuckles, "...are you here against the Maiden of Pain? Perhaps she has displeased Poseidon somehow? Or are you here on your own curiosity?" He repeats his request. "Step here," he marks a spot easy for Kaerri to retreat from if she so chose to, "to the edge of the light where I can see you plainly, if you will!"
Kaerri takes the offered place and bows, a cautious bow that lets her see the giants' knees at least. Courtesy and honor are all very well, but it was still wise to keep an eye on things. "Of course I'm not alone," she says cheerily. "Not this far from -- well, anywhere. The others'll be along in good time, no doubt, but you only issued the invite to me, and they didn't want to intrude unwanted." She rests Wave's lower tine on the ground and stands at ease. At the edge of the light she may be, but she makes no move to lower her hood yet, waiting to see how far "see you plainly" needs to go. "Me 'n the Maiden of Pain have a bit of history, it's true, but never on the same side. Are you here for her promises, then? I never heard that Storm Giants and Loviatar were such good friends, but then I don't make much of a study of her."
 
Their king smiles down, his hands on his great hips, as if this were his own hall. "Ahh! Waaave!" he roars at Kaerri's trident as if it were a welcome friend. "May your golden tines never cease to shine, plucker of mine eye! Where is Mareus Courageous of Auremia? Where is the valiant high priest of Poseidon? I would like for him to smite me again just to feel his terrific rage!"
"Aaagh!" The King of the Storm Lords cries out and doubles over as if terribly wounded. His men shout and step forth to aid him but they soon realize this is a cut no living man can tender nor heal. For one long soft moment, the giant king holds his own moment of silence, his face wracked with pain, for time takes all things and again he is reminded that nothing in this world is permanent.
"Ahhh... Mareus!" King Thun'drus looks heavenward. "How I shall miss thee! I can hear him now! 'Repent, foolish king, and repent all ye with ye! For the wild winds and blasting storms of the sea know but ONE master! And his name... is POSEIDON!!'" Again comes his great laughter and when it dies down, the Lord of Lords looks down to Kaerri and studies her. He tells her, "Mareus of Poseidon was the first and only being to dub me 'fool' and live to tell the tale. And time has taken him from me!" His fist swishes harshly through the air and the wind follows it. "Blast it! Blast it all to ashes! But who are you?"

He motions and his men move away from the sparkling, crackling stormlight that gives radiance to this cavern. "Come to the edge of the light, Wielder of Wave. You have my most solemn word that - in this moment - we shall parley and treat! We shall speak of fates and designs! And if you are of a mind, you will tell me why you have ventured here to me? You cannot be alone!"

He inhales deeply, filling his lungs, and a great sweeping wind comes dancing down the tunnels! Far, but not distant, the Wayward Wanderers are caressed by a gentle drifting wind that passes by into the cavern.
"It sounds like one of the giants is friends with Kaerri's trident. And also that someone that giant was close to passed away. Also...they might suspect that we're here." Alisa said, summing up the parts of the conversation she and the others could hear. Which was only the giant's side of it right now.

Time is precious to begin with - Aldrin knows that better than many. And now... it seems like there's little of it left where preparations are concerned. That allies of theirs was spotted, or so he figures. And that breeze, controlled by magic or other means, perhaps... it betrayed the group's presence as well, if the thundering voice's words can be trusted. "If they know of our presence - it would be better to get closer to your friend, I'd reckon. Easier to be there in time if needed, then."

As he speaks, his hands already begin to form runic symbols in the air, shortly followed by whispered phrases that he could not write down himself, even if he tried. He is not a wizard, after all, just gifted. Gifted to glimpse into the future, and see which words and gestures will keep the flow of magic going until he achieves a result. He knows that one - a spell to reinforce the armor of others. But the casting itself is always different, unpredictable. His first casting of the spell - it comes with blue, glowing runes in the thin air - is aimed at Alisa; as he finishes the words, the runes gently fly over, hitting the unusual armor not everywhere, but only wherever his gifts predict the additional protection to be actually needed. The second cast will reinforce his shield with a purple glow that only fades after a brief moment, but offers the same effect - if there is enough time, a greenish glow will also reinforce Oreleth's armor as well.

"This might do some good, if things go badly." he turns towards where the voices come from. "What will it be? Joining the conversation, just getting closer, or waiting here for it to end? You know your companion better than I do - and the other party as well. My intuition tells me that I did not arrive to simply listen in; but to confirm would take longer than this conversation might last."
"Blessings of Mielikki upon you." Alisa said, her way of thanking Aldrin for his protective spell. Her concern increased when she felt it apply itself to her back though; did that mean something was going to stab her there? or was one of the two Felane going to forget their own strength and give her a hearty slap on the back later on in the day?

Her thoughts then turned away from this when she heard the halfling bring up what they should do now. "I think we should move closer." she offered in a whisper. "One of those giants sounds like he's on cordial terms with Kaerri - or at least her weapon - but we first came here to investigate an atrocity carried out by giants. Depending on how things go in there, we may need to intervene."
 
Oreleth nods, saying, "We will close in and stand ready to come to Kaerri's aid. Move as silently as possible. With as loud as these giants are, we should hear from a good distance back what they are saying to know if there is danger afoot."
Attacks per Round:
1st - Manyshot (firing two arrows). "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 2d8+12 (+6 Base damage).
2nd - Improved Vital Strike. "To Hit:" +13 (+15 Second Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 3d8+6 (Improved Vital Strike, +6 Base damage).
3rd - Normal Attack. "To Hit:" +8 (+10 Third Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
4th - Rapid Shot Bonus Attack. "To Hit:" +18 (+20 First Attack, -2 Rapid Shot). Damage: 1d8+6
+1d6 per arrow of either Cold, Fire or Electrical from Arcane Archer class.
-3 to hit/+6 Damage from Deadly Aim

Hit Points: 91 +d10 per level
Action Points: 11 / 11
Bonus Action Point: 1 / 1
Diamond of Fate: 1

Armor Class: 24 / +3 AC for 13 hours
CMD: 26
Fort Save: +9
Reflex Save: +13
Will Save: +6 (+11 vs Fear)
Perception: +15

Spells Memorized
Cantrips: Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost, Message
1: Shield x2, Shocking Grasp x2, Burning Hands
2: Flaming Sphere, Glitterdust x2, Web
3: Fireball x2
+3 damage to Evoker spells.
 
Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus Psychie Psychie Silanon Silanon Tag!

(Part 1 of 2 - The Wayward Wanderers)

He knows that one - a spell to reinforce the armor of others. But the casting itself is always different, unpredictable. His first casting of the spell - it comes with blue, glowing runes in the thin air - is aimed at Alisa; as he finishes the words, the runes gently fly over, hitting the unusual armor not everywhere, but only wherever his gifts predict the additional protection to be actually needed. The second cast will reinforce his shield with a purple glow that only fades after a brief moment, but offers the same effect - if there is enough time, a greenish glow will also reinforce Oreleth's armor as well.

As Aldrin provides his protective magical blessings, a comforting feeling of sureness falls over both Alisa and Oreleth perhaps from the spells themselves. As for Aldrin himself, he too feels it perhaps like the presence of an old friend, holy magic being what it is. =)

* * *​

Oreleth nods, saying, "We will close in and stand ready to come to Kaerri's aid. Move as silently as possible. With as loud as these giants are, we should hear from a good distance back what they are saying to know if there is danger afoot."
The moment the party moves forward, Oreleth the wood elf is instantly reminded of all of her fellows in the Forest Eternal who tried to warn her long ago, that when she and her family ventured beyond Corellon's forest that there would indeed be many strange beings who did not share the ways of the wood elves.

Now was such a time.

Oreleth's Arcane Archer-trained senses seem to pick up every audible creak of armor, shift of leather, and all manner of soft noises coming from her party. Of the sure, Otiorin and Mamapaw do a decent job of keeping quiet with Mamapaw skulking down on all fours, furry tail low, and creeping about like some giant red-leather-clad hunting cat (and trying very hard and doing well for the moment) while Otiorin appears to be walking along as plain as day and doing a fine job of looking like he is not doing much out of the ordinary.

But Alisa, Aldrin, and Luna? By Solonor's blessed bow, Oreleth thinks she could hear them a mile away. While sleeping. (Oreleth sleeping, not them. What were you thinking? =) ) It isn't that they are being terribly loud - it is simply clear that they are not doing a good job of keeping quiet. Within just a few moments, Oreleth can tell if the giants have but one sharp-eared warrior in their midst, you're as good as caught.

Knowing this, does she have the party continue?
 
(Part 2 of 2 - Kaerri Rainshadow) Kaerri Kaerri

(OOC note for all - Again, anyone listening among the Wayward Wanderers hears the king's every word.)

Kaerri takes the offered place and bows, a cautious bow that lets her see the giants' knees at least. Courtesy and honor are all very well, but it was still wise to keep an eye on things. "Of course I'm not alone," she says cheerily. "Not this far from -- well, anywhere. The others'll be along in good time, no doubt, but you only issued the invite to me, and they didn't want to intrude unwanted."
"I see," the King of the Storm Lords nods while the giants behind and about him murmur and whisper suspiciously.

She rests Wave's lower tine on the ground and stands at ease.
Wave does his "thing" where he stands tall and vertical whether or not Kaerri's hand is resting on him. His golden tines glow like small suns and his deep green steel seems to move very slowly, especially the algae Kaerri added some time ago. Two pair of the giants discover this. In unison and filled with hesitation and uncertainty, the four take a single good step back away from him.

At the edge of the light she may be, but she makes no move to lower her hood yet, waiting to see how far "see you plainly" needs to go. "Me 'n the Maiden of Pain have a bit of history, it's true, but never on the same side. Are you here for her promises, then? I never heard that Storm Giants and Loviatar were such good friends, but then I don't make much of a study of her."
"You would do well to," answers King Thun'drous as he carefully watches what Kaerri Rainshadow does. "The Patron of Pestilence might be the next great mistress of this land! And then again, she may not." The king rises, his hands on his hips. His grin is like a hungry wolf before a fine hunt. He looks to Wave for a moment. "Once again, your wielder and I are on opposite sides of the coin of fate. A pity, but it cannot be helped!"

Then his gaze rests on Kaerri. It is long and unblinking, his single eye seems like a single storm brewing. "Typical storm giants of this plane of existence have naught to do with Loviatar, but we," he opens his thick arms in display, "are not giants of this land at all. We oppose the peaceful mannerisms of our distant kin - we are Storm Lords! And we live for battle!" His fellows grunt and cheer loudly enough to be heard all the way out of the tunnels, but with a wave of his hand, they quiet down and listen once more.

"Out of respect for He whom you carry, rogue, I shall inform you - we have crossed Loviatar's icy bridge! We have come into this realm where Loviatar has promised us the only thing all Storm Lords truly want - the opportunity to take what we will or die trying!" Again his giants cheer and their bellowing rocks the air all around Kaerri. They even laugh like storms would if they possessed voices. Once their voices die down again, the king continues and all other voices remain quiet out of respect.

"In this manner, we are not much different, are we, little mischief-maker? I have given you my name and I have spoken true! Will you give me yours? And tell me what brought you and your fellows here to these miserable caves? Did you bring an army? Perhaps you can fight us as we are, with our backs to these tunnel walls! How exciting that would be! Or... perhaps you saw our majestic descent from sky - fitting for the Lords of Storm, no?" He adds quickly, "You are under no obligation, for you and I owe each other nothing! It is Wave that binds us here and now - he knows me and you too... or I am a stunted ogre! Hah hah haaah!"
 
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