Storm King's Thunder

SKT.11: "Old Gnawbone"

Campaign Date: 14-20 Eleint (The Fading)  1493 DR, Year of the Purple Dragons

     14th- As you know, our heroes are just so stubborn and it almost cost them dearly because they refused to yield the command of a black-cloaked female bandit after she demanded they take a detour, four other dark figures at her side. Combustive words were exchanged, sights were set, and the final boundary was crossed.

Then the commander issued a final battle cry: "NOW!!!!!!"

Fool Hardy Fellows were then sent scrambling as the silent, dark figures popped from behind and atop the thirty-foot aqueduct to complete an ambush. Pust got pincushioned riding solo atop the loot cart forcing the Fellows to smartly even the odds and play defense for a moment. A moment was all they needed because Bjorn immediately shifted into an allosaurus to occupy nearly half-a-dozen scimitar-wielding bandits. Meanwhile, tempest cleric of Tempus, Edmund Kenting called forth a spike of lightning to uproot the perched archers from their advantageous position atop the aqueduct. Jolted and landing blazed, shocked, and staggered, the biggest edge the cloaked assailants started with had evaporated in a flash. Concurrently, Pust had launched a blindness spell, taking out one of the mages at elevation for a while, as naked baby Phineas' were called to Abeir-Toril by Tymora to rip the skin from the bandits with radiant power. A few claw-ripping, arrow-piercing moments later, and all bandits save one found themselves ripped to bits by the Fellows. A withdrawing archer was close to a full retreat when Bjorn restrained her with a spike growth spell, forcing her to halt or suffer to death. Apparently, she had been trained for this, for just as the heroes were about to get answers she committed suicide with her longbow perfectly trained with the precision of a professional. Burned, pierced, slashed, and answer-less, the heroes licked their wounds before continuing along the Long Road toward Kryptgarden Forest. 

     17th- Heroes spent the evening in Redlarch.

     19th- Dank vegetation clawing and pleading with every step, the heroes found themselves treading slowly and carefully through the intensely overgrown Kryptgarden Forest, domain of ancient green dragon, "Old Gnawbone." It was the heroes' aim to seek her advice, and they took it on good authority that she would not want to eat them if they shared their intent to end the threat of giants. You see, "Old Gnawbone" is widely known among divination scholars as one of the most proficient scryers in all the North, and the heroes were in need of answers. Creeping suspiciously and cautiously, the Fool Hardy Fellows hadn't traveled very far before the eerily quiet forest was thrown into a tumult by the crashing and snapping of the great wyrm. Quickly and suddenly the heroes were beset by a gargantuan, house-sized dragon head sporting emerald dragon scales and a fresh new kill dangling from her mouth, a tribally-painted humanoid limb just about the only recognizable piece of flesh remaining of the pockmarked and bloody lunch meat; a bone snap punctuating the wyrm's every syllable. Right away, her first question pondered who were these chumps that had the GALL to disturb her domain! Then, after firing back with their intent to stop the giants, the heroes managed to get a promise from the wyrm that there was a place they could seek for answers. She directed them to seek the Eye of the All Father in the Spine of the World mountain range and to keep an eye out for a frost giant with a helm made from a white dragon skull. Useful information divulged and losing her patience quickly with the pitiful and belligerent hill dwarf druid Bjorn, "Old Gnawbone," winged herself away without salutation. Heeding her words and departing from Kryptgarden, the heroes headed back toward their cart and beasts of burden, plotting their next course.

     20th- Fool Hardy Fellows awoke in the slice of real-estate between Kryptgarden Forest and the Long Road, still unsure what to make of the wooden ring adorned with dancing nymphs clinging to Phineas' finger. You know our heroes, though, as their curiosity instinct got the better of them just like that old pixie dust incident! One "Keltar Dardragon" later and the heroes were soon joined by an apparition of a halfling wielding the cheeriest grin most of them had ever seen (Phineas excluded). Begged for a full day's march toward "useful items, this way!" and "they're just over here!" from the gesturing ghost, and the Fellows were set upon a crumbling 80' tall tower with four small flying creatures encircling above. Bjorn, figuring to scout ahead using pet Rellix, sent the animal to spy, not realizing that the creatures hovering above were indeed hunting birds, blood hawks in fact. I would rather not go into detail about the poor creature's demise however, as our heroes are the stars of the show. Scouting report be damned, the heroes made it to the front entrance to the tower which would have been wide open if not for the 10' diameter boulder hindering progress for anything larger than a human child. An awful deep, guttural wailing was echoing forth from the entrance cracks and (mouse)Bjorn and Phineas were the first to find the source. First through the squeeze, their lucky prize was to be assaulted with flying boulders by a female hill giant throwing stones from her perch on the second floor balcony. The wide loads of the group, Edmund and Tormir, had to blast their way through the entrance, placing a shatter spell to sunder enough for a 6' frame through. The one hurdle in the path now removed, the two medium frames made their way toward the stairs leading toward the carnage upstairs. I'm not too sure they wanted to get there in a hurry, anyway! For by then the big oaf was slashed and pierced up from consecutive giant-spider-Bjorn bites, spittle and bile spilling onto her oily, lumpy neck rolls as the spider venom took root in her heart. Only eighteen more seconds of pain would she have to endure, swinging mightily and feverishly at the potent pests beside and below her with the last gasps of her life. Finally, the dum-dum gallumphed to the floor, nearly covering up the hidden secret compartment Keltar Dardragon was pointing to! With a pry and a prod later, the heroes were the lucky recipients of two new magical items: an emerald gemstone that can summon a powerful water elemental, and a bag of dust resembling very fine sand that makes a handful of beings vanish for a short time.

Oh, yeah, and through it all- the fight with the bandits and the assault on the tower, dwarf soldier of Adbar, Tormir Stoneaxe, took absolutely no blows! Some soldier!

Where will the Fool Hardy Fellows run off to next? Will they follow "Old Gnawbone's" advice?

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