The Journal of Dragor Taliovic - Day 20 - 22
Alas, my little legs were no match for the stride of a giant and I began to tire and lose ground. I scooped up a rock and hurled it at the retreating backs of the giants.
'AND STAY OUT!' I shouted with false bravado. It is easy to be fearless when the danger has passed.
The ranger was bounding along nearby, his bow jiggling about like a dwarf on an enraged pig. He was trying to fire it at the giants, despite them being way in the distance. Needless to say his shot failed to hit its mark. Was he expecting the arrow to sprout wings and fly the rest of the way?
I headed back into town, panting heavily. The streets were littered with the dead or dying. The battle had been short but rough. I saw the body of one of the orc mages lying in the dust, already attracting flies and other vermin. One of the mage's arms was held out as if it had been about to do something. By his fingertips lay a small leather bag.
As I wondered what enchantment he'd been about to cast, the little pouch gave a little squeak and twitched slightly. Intrigued, I picked the bag up and looked inside. It contained a small fluffy ball of some kind that wriggled when prodded. At one point it gave me a sharp nip on the finger that drew blood.
A curious item it seemed to me. Presumably some sort of magical weapon, given the orc was about to use it in battle, but its exact nature I could not determine. I drew the bag closed and stuffed it in my pocket with the intention of investigating later at my leisure.
I found the others discussing what we should be doing next, it seemed the choices were to help clear up the mess or follow the giants to learn what we could from their sudden desire for archeology.
Adventure won out over helping the town recover and we set off to find the giants. I was not too upset at avoiding tidy up duty.
We followed the giants' trail - not difficult! - towards the city of Yarta where we were bade to visit a certain 'Dave' who could refresh our mounts to help us catch up with the giants.
Along the way we met some more religious types, a bunch of scruffy monks who could do with a good wash and a snooty paladin who was more smug than most I've had occasion to meet.
Still, they seemed amiable enough but Ralfeus started bleating on about his imaginary woman friend again. I slapped my palm against my forehead and chose to answer a more realistic call of nature and went for a piss behind a tree.
As we neared Yarta, we noticed the tracks veered away from the city. After a short deliberation, we determined that it would probably cause more of a delay venturing into the city for new horses than if we just camped overnight and followed on from where we were.
We found a suitable spot and rested up. The next day dawned bright and misty, with a chilly edge to the air and so we set off once more after the giants. The trail of huge footprints, snapped trees and crushed undergrowth wasn't hard to spot.
Our journey took us to a small village full of weird peasants who pleaded with us to help rid them of some terrifying reptile that had eaten someone's leg off. It seemed the decent thing to do, these villagers seemed affable enough and, despite my feelings towards a certain village back home, it wouldn't be fair to let a community get torn apart (in both senses of the word) just because none could hold a sword at the right end.
Two of the villagers led us upriver to where the last attack had occurred. We spotted several green creatures basking in the sunshine on the other side of the river. They didn't seem too big but I suppose to a bunch of farmers and mudlarks, they would appear ferocious enough.
The barbarian decided to wade into the water to get at the 'crocodiles' as Ralfeus calls them but another one, masquerading as a floating log, launched itself at the barbarian. There was much splashing about.
The rest of us took care of the three on the bank, it was poor sport and they didn't stand a chance against our spells and missiles.
Just when we thought our quest was over, the water rose and frothed and splashed as something truly huge rose from the depths. Some kind of giant crocodile, the length of several wagons placed end to end.
The lashing tail took its toll on Romero who had run down to the river's edge with his shiny new lance to do some spear-fishing. He was nearly eaten by the huge beast but luckily, his lance got wedged in the reptile's jaws and it bought him enough time get clear. Shame about the lance though, I know he'd been really wanting one of those.
The giant beast went for me next but I must have formed some sort of bond with my horse as I easily danced her through the huge maw that snapped shut behind us. I then hurled a thunder wave at it, which tumbled it over onto its back, giving me a moment to reach safety.
I caught my breath for a moment and then inspiration suggested I try the magic bag I'd found. Unsure what to do, I plucked the little fuzzy ball out of the pouch and threw it towards the monster.
There was a sudden flash of light, a really deep bleat and suddenly a giant goat appeared!
I told it to attack the crocodile but it decided to chew some grass instead. Wonderful. Very handy.
Luckily, the barbarian managed to free himself from his water melee and hacked the big crocodile's tail off. As a final gesture, it ate one of the villagers that had shown us the way but then, blood still gushing from the stump of its tail, the creature died.
I suggested we take the head of the crocodile back to the village as proof of what had lurked in there river, preying on the hapless inhabitants. After hacking the head off, we found another body inside the beast's gullet. It must have been a druid as it had several artefacts that we appropriated for ourselves, including a means of summoning a water elemental.
Once the villagers had thanked us, we headed back out towards the giants' trail. It led up into the ghastly Evermoors. A more foreboding place I have yet to see. It was a dank, soulless place, sapping the strength and will from we foolish souls who'd dared to venture into its mournful environs.
We heard some strange singing and splashing coming from the banks of a small brook that trickled through the rocks and hummocks of the moors. The source was a rather crazy looking dwarf who was apparently searching for a substance called 'Imaginite'. I suspected he'd have had more luck trying to catch a purple fart.
Leaving him to his madness we made camp in the ruins of an old watchtower. It was defensible enough and sheltered us from the worst of the wind.
We each took watches through the night which turned out to be mostly uneventful until the early hours. My watch passed by with nothing but a gathering of willo-the-wisps in the valley below. Enticing though the dancing lights were, I was not so foolish to go traipsing after them in the middle of the night.
Curled up in my bedroll later on, I became aware of a disgusting smell permeating the camp. Half asleep, I cursed the barbarian for having had a second helping of trail bean stew and rolled over to face the other way.
Moments later a cry of alarm went up. We were attacked!
I leapt to my feet and instantly took in the situation. A group of troglodytes had crept up on us in the dark and we were beset on all sides. I instinctively dropped a shatter spell in the midst of one group. It proved particularly effective and all three of them immediately burst apart in a shower of blood, bone and gristle.
My companions were equally effective against our assailants and, despite the stench of them causing us discomfort, we kept them at bay.
Until the troll showed up.
I was trapped in the corner with the paladin and three troglodytes, the barbarian had ploughed into a group of five troglodytes on the far side of the ruins and was systematically taking them apart. Jaya was nowhere to be seen but I did occasionally hear a troglodyte scream in pain followed by a dull thud. I figured the female rogue was doing her part somewhere hereabouts.
That left Ralfeus. The troll went straight for him and the ranger, despite holding his own for a while, succumbed to the troll's raging attacks. I noticed the troll's wounds healed themselves which was a big problem.
I blasted several troglodytes away using my thunderous wave spell again and I ran to the opposite corner to escape the reach of the troll. I do not wear armour so did not want to get slapped by the beast.
I hurled a firebolt at the troll's back which it really didn't like and this time its wounds didn't heal. Of course, I thought, fire hurts it!
With that knowledge safely stowed away, I planned to use a spell to push the troll into our bonfire. Unfortunately, my firebolt had enraged the creature and it came for me in two terrifyingly quick strides.
I was no match physically for the troll and I quickly went down under a flurry of troll fists. I blacked out.
The next thing I became aware of was a comforting warmth flowing through me as I was healed by someone. I opened my eyes painfully and saw the troll lying on its back in the campfire, dead.
In relief, I slipped back into unconsciousness and awoke later feeling unusually refreshed and much, much stronger. I recognised the tell tale signs of the wild magic growing more powerfully within me. It seems to feed off the things I do and the experiences I go through. Well and good then, I thought to myself as I painfully sat up, bruised and aching. Perhaps this time the magic will give me something a bit more defensive this time...
