The bigger they are | A Thora Silentblade tale

The wind rushed through Thora’s beard as the soldier soared high above the canyon pass. The dwarf had never felt something like this before! Only a moment ago, Duanne had reached out and grabbed Thora by the arm, sending some sort of energy through the tortle’s claws that momentarily disoriented the dwarf. Thora suddenly felt lighter, and then the wizard had motioned for the dwarf to leap into the canyon. Thora smiled, glad that the wizard wasn’t one for cruel pranks. The dwarf was flying! It was as easy as thinking, simply aim and glide away.

The joy of Thora’s first flight nearly distracted the soldier from the goal: an enormous, raging, giant covered in obsidian shards. One goat already lay dead at its feat as the rest of the frightened flock fleed their tormentor. It was Thora’s job to buy the rest some time.

They had wanted to take it alive, so instead of the usual steel the dwarf had brought along some of that strange tech the terrorists had upon them. The smooth batons were well-balanced and reminded Thora of some early training sessions back in the army where cadets would face off with wooden sticks. Thora had struggled with the one-on-one training, unable to find a way past the defenses of the much stronger soldiers in the company, until the dwarf had decided to experiment. Fighting with two weapons at the same time was mostly unheard of under the Sakhar mountains. The dwarven shield was the tradition that other soldiers preferred and most of the tactics designed for their military depended on shield walls or other defensive formations involving the large dwarven tower shields. However, when Thora abandoned tradition, the dwarf’s inadequacies became strengths. The others weren’t fast enough to move their heavy defensive equipment to stave off two simultaneous attacks. It had become Thora’s signature approach in the camp and not all of the other cadets had appreciated it, particularly the young lad that had received a thorough humiliation by being knocked to the ground by a dwarf half his size. Thora hoped some of that approach might work in this case!

As the dwarf closed in on the other side of the canyon, the giant’s head nearly level with Thora’s flying form, an arrow struck the behemoth in the side, distracting it from its goat hunt. Good old Zearach with the perfect timing! The giant’s head swiveled, looking across the canyon, unaware of the soaring dwarf flying at its head. The soldier’s blow struck its head solidly, but seemed to do little. Thora immediately regretted the decision as the raging creature turned its massive form toward the soldier. Thora scrambled to find a place to hide, the giant suddenly at Thora’s back and reaching down into the chasm after the fleeing dwarf, knocking Thora hard against a wall. Bracing against the canyon rock, Thora pushed with everything possible and hoped that Duanne’s magic would last! Up into the air the dwarf flew, both batons swinging. An explosive strike to the knee sent a shock through the giant’s form, and then another delivered to the head, as the dwarf flew high into the air, out of the giant’s reach.

Thora looked down, trying to gauge where the giant was to go next, but it was rocking back and forth, a dazed look upon its face. Strange guttural noises escaped its mouth, but it was more of a sound of irritation than rage. It was struggling to focus, stumbling around as it tried shaking its head to get rid of the feeling. Taking advantage of the moment, the others unleashed upon the colossus, a rain of blows and magic that sent the giant to its knee as it tried to cover up and protect itself.

The giant reached for Thora after another swing came from the dwarf above its head, the look of alertness back in its eyes, but its snarl of frustration turned to a yawn. Within seconds, the Terror of the Goats had crumpled to the ground, snoring loudly. Thora descended slowly, keeping a wary eye, but it seemed like their target had been neutralized by the wizard’s magics, at least temporarily. Waving the others over, Thora began the job of tying up their prisoner, keeping a wary eye on the giant’s face and a stun baton at the ready. How were they going to get this massive being across the canyon? That rickety bridge certainly wouldn’t hold its weight. There had to be another way to get it back to town!

The plot thickens

When the others arrived to help with the restraints, Thora moved aside and took watch over their enormous captive. With it tied up and sleeping, things seemed safe for the moment, but something seemed off about the giant’s behaviour and the stories the townspeople had told. Duanne was directing the others on how to best support the weight of the giant with his disc transportation devices, but Thora had spotted something strange on the back of the giant’s skull, near the base. It looked like a large chunk of metal had been smashed into the cranium, and quite recently too, judging by the state of the partially healed scars around the metal thing. Thora reached for it, grasping it with both hands, but the object wouldn’t come free. Suddenly a strong force zapped the soldier’s hands and sent Thora reeling.

“Thrungad turz! Uruk tal Khundrukar!” the dwarf shouted, cursing at the thing in the giant’s head. Alandal raised an eyebrow at Thora, unused to hearing the dwarf speak in such a way. There was a tone to Thora’s words and a look in the eye that seemed off.

The giant’s eyes opened, its head lifting up to look around in surprise.

“Stay still or you go over the edge!” threatened Duanne, the tortle raising his staff in a promise of power. The creature paused, frightened, just long enough to allow Zearach to knock it unconscious.

“Nice work, wizard” praised the elf, with a nod of approval. “Now, what do we do about that device?”

Alandal was already leaning over it, inspecting every detail of the metal object. With one claw outstretched and upon its surface, the dragonborn bard’s face was a torrent of emotions. It seemed as if the bard was going to explode with rage, his lips pulling back, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth. It lasted only a moment before Alandal froze completely still, a blank expression upon his face. Alandal’s reptilian eyes went unfocused, glazing over, as the metal object in his hand began to glow. It seemed like only an instant to those watching, but when the bard told the tale later, it seemed that time had passed differently for him.

In his version of the event, the dragonborn had sensed something odd with the object. It seemed to be some form of technology, but mixed with arcane magics in some way. A conjuration, perhaps a teleportation, the bard thought, but also something else strange. Something the bard didn’t understand. He had been taken somewhere, a desolate, blasted, plane filled with red sand. As far as he could see there were no plants, or animals, or anything in every direction. Just the red sand stretched out to infinity.

Just as he had been about to investigate further, he screamed out in pain. Back in the real world again, Alandal looked down at his claw, seeing a layer of scales simply gone, taken like the metal object he had been touching. It was nowhere to be seen, a gaping hole in the base of the giant’s skull all that was left as proof of its existence.

The giant, for its part, seemed to lose tension in all of its extremities. The dark, rocky, form relaxing and falling into a calm sleep.

Where did that device come from?!?

A sacrifice must be made

With the town menace captured and restrained onto Duanne’s transport discs, the crew carefully made their way back to Jenerra. Thora imagined a hero’s welcome, like they had seen back in Wilted Gulch, as they strode into town with the giant’s form. However, as they approached the outer walls, Zearach lifted a finger to silence them

“Something is wrong” stated the elf, his head cocked to better hear ahead. “There is shouting… we need to be careful.”

The dwarf needed no further instruction as Zearach silently slipped through the gate and disappeared to Thora’s right. Thora slipped to the left, hood up, moving through the darkness between the village homes. Though the dwarf could not make out what was happening, Thora was close enough now to hear voices shouting back and forth, and also smell the woodsy scent of a large fire. Something very not good was happening.

Finding a barrel, the soldier leaped up and then grasped the lower edge of a roof, pulling up onto the rooftop as silently as possible. Thora kept low, not wanting to draw attention, and got down flat against the roof to watch. In the courtyard below a large bonfire was burning brightly and several villagers were circled around it, listening to some man who was shouting about a sacrifice.

“… we must APPEASE the giant!” continued the man. “There will be more death if we do not! You know in your hearts this is true!”

“This is absurd! Stop, this is madness!” cried the mayor, his kobold eyes bulging out of his draconic head. The townspeople seemed to be swaying towards the other man’s words, but the mayor stood resolutely against the speaker, dressed smartly and appearing all the more stately and composed, despite his height. “Why are we listening to him, he only came into town yesterday?!? We are not going to start killing our friends and family. This is an incredibly terrible idea, backwards, and not the way of the kind people of Jenerra!”

At that moment, Alandal made his dramatic entrance.

Thora had to admit, the fireworks were a nice touch. As the beautiful lights went off in the sky, illuminating the dragonborn below, Alandal’s drum played a crisp military march, his voice rising above the shouts of the crowd.

“We have conquered and return victorious!” came the bard’s confident voice, his scales glowing in the flickering light of the bonfire. “We have taken the giant down!”

With a flourish, Alandal gestured towards the gate and, on cue, Duanne walked in with the discs bearing the giant’s slumbering form. Audible gasps came up in the crowd as they witnessed the heroes returning with their captive. But the charming speaker would not allow Alandal to steal his crowd.

“Do not listen!” came his voice, full of anxious energy. “We do not know what it is they have seen, or what they claimed to have done! I know giants, and I know that the only way to stop the giant is WITH BLOOD!”

The speaker was working the crowd up into a frenzy again, battling Alandal for control of the crowd. The bard was not about to back down, but his assurances were falling on deaf ears.

“How do we know there aren’t NINE giants! The attacks are just going to keep coming – do you want your families to die? The giants won’t stop – we must appease them. We need to make this sacrifice NOW! FOR OUR OWN SAFETY!”

Things seemed to be getting out of control. Thora was convinced of one thing: this guy was a jerk. He didn’t seem to want to give in and wouldn’t rest until he had the crowd worked up and turning on each other. Things were about to get messy, the soldier could feel it. The throng was starting to turn, despite Alandal’s words of comfort. The fuse was lit. And it was short.

Thora drew a bow, knocking an arrow and lining up a shot against the stranger. There would only be time for one shot, if things went wrong, but with any luck Zearach was out there, doing the same. Thora watched as the figure began to draw a silver dagger, reaching for the kobold mayor before him. There was no time left…

The twang of the soldier’s bow seemed to almost coincide with a similar sound echoed from the northern part of the town. Two arrows flew through the air, slamming into the dagger-wielding stranger from both directions. The man cried out, doubling over, but then straightened, shedding the ruse of pain. The man’s scream shifted, turning to an awful laughter as a shimmer spread out across his form. The man’s skin turned red, long claws suddenly growing from his hands. His cloak burst as large, leathery, wings unfolded on his back and took the man into the air.

A demon! Thora was thrown, unsure of what to do. Scrambling for another position on the roof, the dwarf slipped and slid, struggling to find purchase on the slanted shingles. Thora tried to fire another shot, but it went wide, nearly slamming into a nearby tree. The townspeople gasped and shrieked, panicking, as the creature rose into the air and seemed to gradually disappear, becoming an ethereal nothingness, its laughter still hanging in the air.

Rushing to the aid of the mayor, Alandal checked on him but the kobold was undamaged, if a little shook. The mayor, as well as the owner of the bar they had met earlier, both tried to explain what had led to tonight’s scene. A stranger had arrived a few days ago, saying little, simply spending a lot of time in the bar and speaking with the locals. They had suspected nothing more than a passing traveller, until the sudden outburst of action this evening.

“I believe the giant was sent to attack you” Alandal said, trying to be calm. “For what reason? We will need to discover that.”

“Before that, though, the giant” offered Duanne. “Where is that wizard, Darius?”

It didn’t take long to track down the teleportation wizard who was enjoying a meal at his camp. He seemed surprised to see them back so soon, and with the large obsidian giant in tow.

“Look, I can take that big boy back, but you all are going to have to spend the night here and wait for me to come back tomorrow” explained Darius, as he finished one last bite of his meal before beginning to pack up his things. “It takes a lot out of me for these trips, but I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Wait… one other thing” added Duanne, hoping to catch the wizard before he disappeared. “There was something here in the town, a demon. Maybe an incubus? Tell the professor, and get us whatever backup you can.”

Darius nodded in agreement before moving to stand by the sleeping giant. The others backed up as the wizard began his incantation and, with a wave of his staff, the air pulsed and they were gone. Thora looked around at the rest of the group, wondering if they were ready for this next challenge. Duanne’s face was resolute, his face already flipping through a book looking for something. Alandal was asking Zearach if the elf had any way to track the creature. Unsurprisingly, their next step was already decided.

The dwarf smiled. Demon hunter had a nice ring to it, anyway.