"Yeah, I'm glad Akropash is free. Free of slavery, free of Targ, and free of his mad witch. I woulda died to see it done - I nearly did a few times - but I'm not a spy and I'm not one of your soldiers. I don't want a legacy made outta lies. I need to leave here knowin' that my strength made a difference. Can you give that to me?"
"Why do you think I put this thing together? You know what, forget it. Am I free to go? I'm not gunna hurt poor Raul anymore."
He bangs his fist on the table. "Except it's not! Because you would have given up the chance to make the world a better place because you don't feel like you're worth it anymore! You've done more in the last month than the rest of your life, yet you're not half as confident in yourself." He snorts and spits. "I was picked up from a guild of mercenaries where I put steel in men for nothing more than coin. Spent ten years of my life that way, and all I did was make more bloodshed. Oh I was a proud bastard too, in five years I was in charge of the guild, swimming in gold and women and oozing self confidence." He grimaces. "I was a bloody fool. I wasn't half as strong or wise as I am now, but I believed I could move mountains if I tried. But all I really was, was the best at gutting people in the area. A pretty pathetic title if you look at it."
He points back out at the celebration. "You've just freed a city from an evil and twisted tyranny, and thousands are celebrating with your name on their lips. For generations to come, you will be remembered because you allowed all of these people and their children and their children's children to live in freedom." He stands. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty damn f$!&ing proud of that. And even though I wasn't down there fighting Targ or Acera toe to toe, I know my efforts here made a difference and my strength saved lives. But I didn't do half of what you did here." He goes over to the flap of the tent. "You've just changed history. This is something that will effect the lives of millions, something the bards will sing about for ages to come, and something the scribes will immortalize in their history books. It's more than you've done in the rest of your life, so take some f&@#ing pride that your strength allowed you to do that." He opens the flap. "Now you're dismissed, if you don't want to talk anymore."
~~~~~Grand Tour, Day 17~~~~~
Rilka watches Toramin’s fight with trepidation that quickly explodes into awe. With the death of the giant, her eyes focus on the ice trolls. She relaxes when they flee north, but can’t deny a slight foreboding of what they may bring in the future.
”I have enough magical reserves to make one more shield today. One minute and then we can make haste.”
Besides, anything Krokar said was suspect now. He was no better than Heff. Bjorkus stands to leave.
"I don't give a s!#+ about bard songs, scribe's history books, or who's names are on their lips out there. If you'd heard a word I said you've understand that. I want something I've done here to be real and if I can't have Targ, or Acera, or even the soddin' revolution, you've gotta give me somethin'."
"I've heard enough..." the bull rumbles as he takes his leave.
Returning to the party Bjorkus tries to get back into the swing of the celebration but there's little joy in it.
As Dalton is mingling he hears a different slippery fellow. "Hey Dalton." The mage turns to see Heff, dressed in white and red silks. He gives a smile, not quite the usual smirk he gives. He asks to sit (another oddity) before sitting next to Dalton and taking a sip from his glass. Heff looks unusually pale today, especially considering the recent week spent under the sun. "Krokar informs me that you've recently been curious about the origins of the Aestherics. He didn't send me your way, but it piqued my curiosity. What is it you would like to know?"
~The Grand Tour Day 17~
"Right. The going will be rough, but hopefully we'll avoid any ambushes set up." Viktor leads the party to the east, up a steep incline and onto a plateau. The air feels thinner than normal, and the next few hours are rough. Dalton, Rilka, and Coralla all start laboring to keep going. At the end of two hours on the plateau even Toramin is thoroughly exhausted.
Viktor tries to help those struggling, but is unable to make a difference. He looks ahead. "Damn, one more hour and we would have been off. Half of you are going to pass out, and Bjorkus and I can't carry that many. Plus we'd be sitting ducks if we were attacked."
Fail
Fail
Fail
Fail
Hour 3 (DC 17)
Fail
Fail
Fail
Toramin calls on the power of the earth to keep him going.
"Bjorkus will you please invigorate the tired so we can push on for the final hour?"
The dwarf seems adamant to keep everybody moving so that they can get to safety.
Viktor looks at Bjorkus, shaking his head. "We'd make a killing getting people through these mountains, you an I up here."
"Bjorkus is full of hidden talent that even he doesn't recognize. For our own safety we need to put distance between us and whomever those trolls went to find. I'm confident in my fighting abilities even against a giant or two, but the best kind of unnecessary is the unnecessary fight you can avoid."
Bjorkus frowns at the condition of the party and does at Toramin asks, working his enchantment on the two girls. "That should keep you movin' for the better part of an hour but when the charm wears off you're gunna be pretty damned miserable. Let's make it count."
Viktor nods approvingly. "I can get us to one of my camps in an hour." He starts marching off to the north, but Coralla is frozen in place. Bjorkus follows her gaze and sees a bone chilling sight, roughly 500 feet away and closing fast.
"It's a soddin' avalanche", Bjorkus rumbles in alarm. "We gotta find cover!"
In the interest of moving he quickly grabs Rilka.
Toramin will run for a side to be out of the direct path. He will gently push Coralla in that way.
"Everybody, move out of its direct path. It's safer on the edges. But you won't be able to outrun it."
Viktor turns in alarm. "Son of a..." He casts around, looking at the open terrain. "F%#~, we're out in the open! Haul ass, forward!"
”Yeah, I was tryin’ to get a hold of you. I wanted to get the city’s pulse from someone other than these damned Aestherics”, he explains with fresh bitterness as the pair wander away from the heart of the celebration toward someplace more private. ”But you’ve been busy. I wasn’t sure know how hard your sources work when you’re outta town or how current your info is.”
He looks to the catfolk expectantly hoping for some ‘good’ news. ”You heard anything since you got back? Any kinda rising danger?”
Lacking any better options, Bjorkus powers through the snow with Rilka tucked under one arm toward whatever cover Viktor had in mind.
”Dalton, tell me you’ve got a spell for this”, he says/asks without a glance the elf’s way.
~~~~~Grand Tour, Day 17~~~~~
The day’s activities has reduced Rilka’s body and mind to an ache, a dull ache punctuated by foggy thinking. Rilka involuntary screams ”Eeee!” in surprise when Bjorkus picks her up and tucks her under his arm. The roar of the avalanche quickens Rilka’s heart and breathing as the landscape jostles in her field of vision. The thundering snow is moving so fast, faster than she ever believed it could. She thinks about the extracts she could make, but knows none really apply here. Besides do we even have one minute before we’re met by the avalanche?
”Dalton, any chance of a fly spell? Toramin, any experience with avalanches before?”
"Cannot say I had the pleasure!" Toramin shouts as he pounds ground as quickly as his short legs can manage.
What would Sehitha do?
Quite a sight, that.
Mesmerized by the avalanche, Dalton was snapped back to reality by Rilka's scream. "Stop, stop, STOP! I ... cannot abide ... such mayhem!" The wizard exhaled. "I do have ... a flying spell prepared that will last ... a few minutes. It can surely ... save a few of us. Moreso if ... the muscle-booster is still in effect .... Bjorkus?" Dalton looked to him as it had been a while. Maybe it's worn-off.
But. he paused. "Only one such use is in my mind. I could try to push my limits and squeeze out an additional use, but I might lose the former. Take your pick. Either way, Miss Featherfeet, I believe you can be carried by Bjorkus. Coralla, are you too exhausted to fly?"
Borkus grabs a hold of Coralla with his other arm. "Hold on tight!"
Toramin grabs Dalton with one hand and Bjorkus's leg with the other.
"Vicktor, grab on!"
Dalton quickly touches Bjorkus, who in turn scoops up Rilka and Coralla. Toramin and Viktor each grab into Dalton with one hand, the other wrapping around Bjorkus. Coralla looks like she's about to faint from fear, but Viktor shakes his head in disbelief. "You're not just some group of travelers, are you?" And then Bjorkus takes off.
The deadly avalanche rolls past, the spray of snow and ice so violent it's even felt in the air. Coralla and Rilka looks down from the safety of Bjorkus's arms. However Viktor was not prepared and loses his grip, sliding down to Bjorkus's leg before catching himself. He slips again and ends on Bjorkus's foot, and Toramin feels his shoulder pop from the strain of holding Dalton by himself, and the half elf drops! But then Viktor gets a death grip on Bjorkus's foot, grabbing Dalton with the other hand and hauling him back up with a grunt.
Shortly the avalanche passes, leaving a field of snow and ice and rocks in its wake.
From his ariel vantage point Toramin looks around to see if anybody caused the avalanche on purpose.
"Does anybody see a smug frost giant? If not, then that avalanche may have been a blessing. It will cover our tracks."
"Nothing. Let's set down before I rip off Bjorkus's foot."
The adreneline was a bit much for Dalton, and he had a hard time thinking straight. Rather, as he was dangling precipitously from two dwarves, he was more thinking about how quick a death falling might be.
When he heard Tormain's shoulder pop, he shuddered.
"Blessing? Your arm is broken!" But I guess we are alive.
"Bjorkus, you've a good few minutes on that spell - try to set us down somewhere stable you can see!"
Still, in all its destruction, the avalanche was beautiful in its own way.
"It's fine. Vicktor or Bjorkus will pop it back into place. Acera's touch hurt much worse."
Once down on the ground Viktor grimaces. "I am sorry my friend, I am...not used to that sort of thing." He glances around for a moment, then gives Toramin a stick. "This will hurt, but it will be over quickly." He gently grabs Toramin's shoulder and arms. "On the count of three. One." Pop. The pain is searing for an instant, but as it fades the arm feels much better.
Bjorkus does his best to ignore the pain from the extreme weight dragging on one of his hooves. He looks for a safe spot to touch down and then lands.
"That coulda been a lot worse. Are you girls alright? Hopefully I wasn't too rough snatchin' you up."