Age of Giants- Live or Die Trying

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

Even the loud screechy kobold goes silent as they go through the canyon. As information is given, he begins to not like this place one bit. IT was the sort of place the sacred texts would say would be primed with an ambush of betrayed expectations. But now the kobold was expecting the unexpected.. Which only meant that things were about to get even worse.

[Farmerbink]

The party cautiously advances down the narrow, uncannily quiet ravine. Distant birdsong filters through the overhanging rocks and somewhere not too far a rivulet must trickle between the narrow gaps in ancient stone. Perriket curiously peers at the floor, noting no shortage of disturbance in the sparse foliage pressing through the rocky soil. "Someone has passed through here- probably many someones... fairly recently," he murmurs through the precautionary message.

More and more curious, Franklin approaches one of the nearby edifices, offering a quiet "Hullo? Anyone here?" through an unlatched window.

Finally, about halfway to the grand stone doors, a voice that isn't yours breaks the silence. "Franklin? Is that really you?!" A venerable Gnomish matron all-but appears in one of the two double-doorways leading to the right. "Aunt Vernie?" he asks. With surprising affection, to your great relief, the old woman gleefully bolts from the doorway to catch her nephew in a tight embrace. "Moons and stars, I haven't laid eyes on you for so long!" she exclaims. "Come on out, everyone!" she calls. "It's my kin and his... friends?" At the young Gnome's quick nod, she continues "From the Downs!"

Within moments, at least two dozen Gnomes and Dwarves pour from the same doorway, offering emotional (if only for the relief of suddenly not being terrified) greetings and offering shelter within. "We hate to be so suspicious, but I'm sure you understand. Surface life isn't what it used to be," a broad-shouldered Dwarf explains. "I'm Stagni Craghammer- first son of elder Borden. Please, be made welcome at our hearth."

As you allow yourselves to be ushered in, you find a surprisingly well-equipped common room. It appears the buildings have been carved much deeper into the ravine face than you might have guessed from the outside.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm is immediately relieved to see signs of (friendly) life, smiling broadly and stepping back as greetings are made. As the party is ushered into the home he asks, "You all live above ground still? How do you avoid notice?" his deep rumble polite but obviously surprised at the audacity of the community. "And everyone in one home? Or has something happened? We came because the Downs haven't heard from you all in some time - is something wrong? And if something is wrong, why are you above ground?" The dwarf is unusually talkative - for a dwarf - and seems unbothered by his unusual behavior. He's clearly concerned and confused, but pleasantly so, given the apparent health of the Craghammer community.

[Farmerbink]

Stagni immediately draws Brankahm aside, with astonishing tact, you're forced to admit- perhaps especially for a Dwarf. Clearly, he is familiar with delicate issues and prepared to address them.

"Aye friend, in truth everything, it seems, has gone wrong. Our once proud, but small home has become well and truly overrun- and before you get too excited, it is a matter of refugees more than violence! Perhaps a good problem to be had, being one of so few remaining homesteads that civilized folks dare to call 'safe.'" He frowns at some of your other questions, lowering his voice so as to be unheard by most in the very crowded common room.

"Most the time, folks stay in their own homes up here," he admits. "But when we see someone coming- anyone coming, we pile into my home here for the illusion of safety in numbers." You can tell from his eyes that Stagni has seen things he's been forced to reconcile, and that he has the strength of will to do whatever it takes to keep as many of his people safe as possible.

He shrugs, an awkward, unhappy thing. His deep, calm voice is a surprisingly comforting thing, given the subject matter. "Truth be told, I'm much more comfortable underground, but someone had to be in a position of authority up here. We're both the first line of defense for the Halls and the only place left to put new faces with anything like permanence or comfort. Gods help us all if the Giants come knocking again...."

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm looks concerned as the other dwarf expounds on the problem, his expression thoughtful. "So...there's not room below ground for everyone? What happened? Are they all fleeing a new attack? Or are these all lone survivors fleeing from their ruined homes?" he asks, his low rumble of a voice hard to mask. He looks at the tightly crowded mass of people in the home above the earth and grimaces. "You are all at great risk here. We fought troglodytes on our way to you, and much worse could attack if they ever find this place. Without the steady earth to protect you all...well...you know what would happen."

With a sigh the big dwarf steps to the doorway, taking a deep breath and listening for a moment to the sounds of nature nearby. "Perhaps we could help bring enough of the refugees to the Downs?" he poses quizzically, though after a moment he mumbles, "Though I probably shouldn't invite them without talking it over with the gnomes themselves...Franklin! Do the Downs have room for more? Stagni here tells me that they are overwhelmed underground and forced up here due to space. Could we bring some families to the Downs to relieve the burden here? Or is that going to cause other problems? I know the trip would be a challenge..."

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

"Well as with all things, eventually the giants will come again. But this time.. We slaughter them. String up their bodies and decorate our walls with their bones and heads. I'm certain that a giant's body can very easily make all kinds of living quarters once you get the the fleshy goo bits off them. Actually would make something really spectacular to make a castle our of the skulls after they turned grey in the sunlight."

[Athaleon]

"Easier said than done," Urist grumbled. "The strength of the nations couldn't stop the giants before—nowadays a strong showing at the surface is just going to draw more of them."

"Shame about the lack of space," he went on. "They say every mouth to feed comes with two hands attached, and anyone left alive these days must have a solid spine and a good head on their shoulders." He tried not to eye Paranomasia as he seemed to reconsider. "That or the Archfiend's own luck, and in these times, I'll settle for lucky. I would see about bringing a group back to my own hold, if it were feasible."

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

"Well clearly, it was because they had no Doomsday devices. And they didn't know their target audience, and lacked the proper presentation. Giants have big bodies.. Big bodies need more food. With the amount of damage they have done to the eco system, they are surely very hungry. And those big bodies are just full of flesh and soft meats ready for some hulking brute with a club to go smacky smack. But well, magic can mess that all right up of course. "

[Farmerbink]

Franklin allows himself to be drawn into the strange huddled conversation, accompanied by a disapproving frown from his aunt. "Aye wot?" he murmurs, before allowing himself to re-think what he's already heard. "Oh, well... I'm certainly not the best Henderson to Ask, but we'd probably make the same decision the Crags have already had to, if it came to it." He turns to Stagni. "I'm also curious where this deluge of refugees comes from?"

Stagni nods knowingly. "Of course. It's been strange, honestly. I'd never accuse the big uglies of bein' the most thorough sorts in the best of times, but well... Seems every week for the last 5 months a pair or trio turns up knocking. Some from Rockstop down south. Several from Celadin. We've even had a handful of rangers came over the Spines! It's been almost 3 years since Celadin fell; you'd think they'd have-" he lowers his voice again. "It's just strange is all. Borden and his sages swear they're making sure everyone is who they say they are- that's above my ken- but some o' the stories don't seem to all add up to me, yeh? Seems..." Franklin openly frowns at this new revelation, but stoically keeps his peace.

"And o'course we've dealt with a few of the big uglies, but So far they seem... strangely content to leave us be..."

[DarkOne-Rob]

"Well, if the stories don't add up, but you can't confirm by talking to them, someone needs to go check out things from back where they were," says Brankahm, sounding confident in spite of the obvious dangers of such a trip. "I'd be deeply uncomfortable with so many people up top sides right now, especially if I was staying here too. I'll plan to go look at the nearest of those places you mentioned - which is that? Rockstop, Celadin, or over the Spines? Does anyone else want to come with me?"

[Triskavanski]

Paronomasia AC: 18 | HP: 16 | Current: 16 Fortitude: +2 | Reflex: +6| Will: +3 | Perception: +4 Active Effects: None. Conditions: None.

"Of course! I the great Paronomasia shall bring fear and ruination to theses absurdities standing far taller than they should have any right to! And they will soon have that height crushed to the floor!" the kobold postures, taking a bit of a pose before going through the motions of laughing loudly, yet he was silent.

[tonberryking]

Now Bushi keeps quiet.

Perhaps it's because she may honestly believe if she speaks up she'll be kicked out (or at least inadvertently make a scene if she tries to be evicted and her allies intervene) but the blond maned goblin just hovers by the peripheral of the others, listening. Contemplating.

In fact, when Stagni lists off the refugees they've been receiving, Bushi frowns, and starts counting on her hands repeatedly. Consternation surrounds her so much so that she finally speaks up:

"These refugees you brought up," she says in perfect dwarvish, "Do they congregate with one another? Just group up thick as thieves without any hesitation even though they're from far and wide different places?"

[Palanan]

Ever since the party was stalked and attacked by the troglodytes, Perriket has been lost in a distant haze. The pain of the shaman’s lightning-ball was so fierce, and his terror during the clash so bone-deep, that some part of him simply failed, ceased functioning, became numb; and for all the uncertain time afterward he has been no use to dwarf or gnome, padding and scenting mechanically as if he were somehow drifting alongside himself, observing himself from a vantage point both within and without his mortal form.

Now, finally, the superficial reassurance of snug tunnels, warm bodies in familiar proximity, and the promise of fresh hot food have all helped massage his badly-frayed nerves. Now, at least for the moment, he is able to breathe a touch more freely, and even dream wistfully of Nadjhet’s trim and delicate whiskers.

But the press of so many gnome and dwarven bodies, and the scent of their underlying fear, has begun to weigh on him, even in this place of precarious safety. Ordinarily he would long for the freedom and the quiet thrill of a quick, fluid scurry in the open air; but after the troglodytes, the whirling bats, and that distant glimpse of lumbering horrors, Perriket is caught between an urgent desire to escape the press of refugees, and a growing terror of what else might be lying in wait—either just across the next hill, or terrifyingly close by.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm Runechanter Male Lawful Good Dwarf Fighter (w/ 2 Archetypes), VMC Bard, Level 2, Init 2, HP 29/29, Speed 20 ft AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 17, Fort 5, Ref 3, Will 2, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 2 MW Heavy Flail +6 (1d10+4, 19-20/x2) Dwarven Urgrosh +5 (1d8+4/1d6+4, 20/x3) MW Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex) Abilities Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 11 Condition None

Brankahm looks around at the gathered party, noting the slow reactions of those who had only yesterday survived a harrowing ambush and how they all seemed to need some leadership. "Alright, everyone, here's what we're going to do," he begins, announcing loudly. "We have too many people to safely stay above ground, but not enough room below ground. However, some of your stories don't make sense, so we can't bring you somewhere else yet. Who here is a refugee from Rockstop, Celadin, or over the Spines? I need to talk with you before we go out and see where your home was..."

Spoiler: OoC

Show

In the interest of moving things forward, Brankahm will start talking with NPCs to figure out where we should go first. @FarmerBink - do you want to RP this conversation, or give us a summary of where we should go to investigate first?

[Albinobrow]

Rockstop.

What looks like a support post starts to sway and move forward through the crowd. Under the post, no carrying the post, a female dwarf in heavy armor steps forward. She has long ruddy brown hair, and piercing blue eyes, with freckles sprayed over her cheeks. She would be considered conventionally beautiful save for the deep scars across her forehead and cheeks from some previous wounds. And upon second glance, the thick pole she carries is no pole but a massive spear!

I am originally from Rockstop. Though that was overrun by those giants 15 years ago...

Spoiler: OoC

Show

Darewealynn Anvilrock
Female NG Dwarf Sister-in-Arms Cavalier, Level 2, Init 0, HP 22/22, Speed 20ft
AC 17, Touch 10, Flat-footed 17, CMD 15, Fort 4, Ref 0*, Will 2*, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus +2
brace and reach MW Dwarven Giant-Sticker (--) +6 (2d6+4, x3)
Lemellar (Iron) (+7 Armor)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 11, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 13
Condition None

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm Runechanter Male Lawful Good Dwarf Fighter (w/ 2 Archetypes), VMC Bard, Level 2, Init 2, HP 29/29, Speed 20 ft AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 17, Fort 5, Ref 3, Will 2, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 2 MW Heavy Flail +6 (1d10+4, 19-20/x2) Dwarven Urgrosh +5 (1d8+4/1d6+4, 20/x3) MW Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex) Abilities Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 11 Condition None

"Well-met, Miss Rockstop...?" says Brankahm, bowing at the waist to the dwarven woman as she introduces herself. "Or do you go by another name? I'm Brankahm, these are my companions. As you heard, I think we need to see what's pushing everyone away - if it's not giants, that may be good news or it may be bad. What made you flee here most recently?"

Spoiler: OoC

Show

RP only, though this might give @FarmerBink an opportunity to expose the next step in the story.

[Albinobrow]

Anvilrock. My name is Darewealynn Anvilrock. I am originally from Rockstop but after it was taken, I've did what I could to both survive and help others I found. I've been here offering support and protection for the better part of the last decade. Truth be told, I've somewhat lost track of time. She responds to the questions willingly, but beyond her steely eyes scanning each newcomer he faces is without emotion.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm Runechanter Male Lawful Good Dwarf Fighter (w/ 2 Archetypes), VMC Bard, Level 2, Init 2, HP 29/29, Speed 20 ft AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 17, Fort 5, Ref 3, Will 2, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 2 MW Heavy Flail +6 (1d10+4, 19-20/x2) Dwarven Urgrosh +5 (1d8+4/1d6+4, 20/x3) MW Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex) Abilities Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 11 Condition None

Brankahm nods and bows respectfully. "Greetings, Earthmaiden Anvilrock. I am the last of my clan, the Runechanters. Seems most of us are refugees or the last of our kind these days. Do others of your family still live? Or am I being too forward by asking?" he says, his rough dwarven skin turning ruddy as he blushes. "I've been told I'm too direct for a dwarf - please excuse me for prying..."

[Albinobrow]

In times like these, I believe it could be better for more straightforwardness and unity. I don't see how we can survive otherwise. As for my family, I hadn't seen them for years prior to the attack due to my duties as a Gray Maiden. I hope they are alive.. Her face remains stoic during their exchange, her eyes though looking in Brankahm's direction seem to focus on nothing.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Brankahm Runechanter Male Lawful Good Dwarf Fighter (w/ 2 Archetypes), VMC Bard, Level 2, Init 2, HP 29/29, Speed 20 ft AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 17, Fort 5, Ref 3, Will 2, CMB +5, Base Attack Bonus 2 MW Heavy Flail +6 (1d10+4, 19-20/x2) Dwarven Urgrosh +5 (1d8+4/1d6+4, 20/x3) MW Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex) Abilities Str 16, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 11 Condition None

With pursed lips Brankahm nods and looks about a bit uncomfortably, unsure how to continue the conversation.

Instead, he decides the right response is to continue talking to the other refugees to try and determine a way forward...