Ori smashes in again with his club, then Thatch fires an arrow in the same instant as Famh seems to will a stone to fly at the creature of its own accord......

The arrow and stone both strike the fachan in the forehead and the huge hulking form wavers for a moment, the flail crashes to the ground with a thud as it slowly sways back and forth before pitching downhill with an immense sound like a landslide, before lying still against the stone.....

Her hands brushing down her earasaid  towards her waist, Famh stands with her left fingers reaching in the direction of the familiar pouch where her sling and needle nestle while the others grope towards the Cailleach's grey bag whence Fionnuala came and so tragically and suddenly returned.  A moment she regards the huddled form at the base of the slope with suspicion, fearing some final burst of unnatural cunning from the fachan of a similar stripe to the horribly agile speed which had cost Vardi and Ori so dear -- or the terrible green gaze which even now she cannot remember without a shudder.  For a moment Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich*  had gazed from the purgatory into which her strange faerie blood had at times brought her since she began to change from girl to woman, straight into the eyes of hell.  She blinks to clear her vision as she continues to eye the still form warily. (Perception 19)

Next moment, she blinks again.

No, I mean she actually blinks.  As one instant opens its eye she is standing beside the small crater of that final stone; the next she is standing beside Cainneach.  And the next, she is in his arms; and he's not sure whether the crying or the laughing are rising higher in her voice as she pours out endearments.  Famh the young woman has suddenly won place over Famh the faerie sorceress; and the emotions are hitting of a battle in which the price of victory was the extinction of even so terrible a mind as Fingal macTethra's.

Being as Cainneach's involved, she's also reminded to keep them both safe by keeping one eye glancing towards the bugger to make sure he's not just playing possum.

=========

*clickable link to character sheet.  All rights reserved under Thulish copyright law of the thirteenth century since Gatanades came to drive the old gods out, to Famh's eternal puzzlement since don't they all say about the same things are holy most especially including love? ... . *kiss, kiss * oh Cainneach, yer archery wis simply amazing, like thon first shot ye sent intae the beast I thoucht for a moment our job wis done...

Vardi stares anxiously as the great form slowly begins to tumble downward, then runs towards the fallen Fingal's massive head, bright-polished shield held up in search of breathing.

(OOC: Second Wind total of 9 HP back  for Vardi. Medical or Insight, whichever applies for looking for signs of life in someone of this size, total of 16.)

The wretched Fomorian is certainly dead.

Thatch lowers his bow and watches over Vardi as she inspects the creature “Is it dead?” He looks back up the hill “Should we check out its lair, see if it had anything hidden away?” He starts trudging back towards the opening. 

Ori looks at the slumped over creature letting his club rest on the ground. As his extra adrenaline stats to wear off a bit, he starts to feel the shot to the side more and more. "Oi, sure looks good and dead to me, Aye? Why don't you and the love birds go see what the ugly beast had been hiding in there. Vardi and  I will  watch the carcass and front entrance. Nothing heroic you understand. Something in there still, you come get us first. You hear." Trying not to have the pain he feels come out in his voice, he trys to keep his off hand arm still and holding the spot that clearly got cracked. He spit on the great creature like he was mocking it, but really Ori was checking how much blood he was coughing up.

Cainneach finds himself with his betrothed in his arms, awkwardly attempting to hold her, as she chortles and cries, along with his bow, which despite Famh's affectionate proclamation, had only done its fair share of injury to the now slain giant.  So much had just happened in the preceding half a minute it was difficult to process.  While he and his companions had been through trials together, it was hard to recollect a foe as harrowing as this one ... yet they had smashed the foul thing with incredible fury.  Thatch was relentless with his bow, Vardi incredibly brave in attempting to tie up the chain, and Ori unbelievably strong in both dealing out and taking damage right up against the Fachan.  And, of course, Famh's magick had shown itself to be ever more powerful, hurling stones about as if she were a giant and covering distances in the blink of an eye that should not have been possible.  Most favourably, her last little jaunt had landed her in his arms, which was just where Cainneach liked her to be ... though, as was often the case, in a not optimally romantic setting.  Still, the young lovers must do what they can.

"Leannan, my shots were a mere trifle compared to what you've just done!  Flitting about like a giant, beautiful hummingbird, hurling rocks with no sling!  Have the aos sí been conferring favours upon you while my attention's been elsewhere?" He smiles and laughs, gripping her tightly. It's hard for the forester not to feel a surge of confidence in seeing this group perform so remarkably together.

"Ori, Vardi, are you two all right?  My heart sunk at seeing you take such vicious blows, but it sings now to see you standing, triumphant!  And Thatch, aye, we should check, but let's be careful.  Who knows what diabolical traps this thing may have strewn about its lair."  As soon as he can reasonably, though reluctantly, extract himself from Famh's embrace, Cainneach summons to his hand the restorative berries he'd somehow figured out how to produce.  A modest display compared to Famh's, but useful nonetheless.

(If Ori and Vardi need additional healing, Cainneach has 10 hp to distribute.)

(Sorry Ori, took too long for me to complete my post yet again ... I offer you some berries to stanch the internal bleeding and will bravely escort my lady friend to the cave mouth to ...

Investigate 18

... with my faithful hound, who wisely stayed with Skuggi, out of the fray.  Salt will make up for his cowardly circumspection by helping to ...

Perceive 20

... any potential dangers OR survivors!

Famh, Cainneach and Thatch head back towards the opening in the hill whilst Vardi and Ori catch their breath and Ori examines the overly large blueberries that Cainneach has gifted him.

As the trio, and Salt, crested the edge of the cleft they were greeted with one of the rankest odours they had ever experienced....a mix of rotting flesh, bodily waste and mouldering skins....the right side of the cleft descended down into darkness, overhung enough so that the interior was dry, at least from rain; this side of the crevasse was a tangle of bones, pelts, blood and offal all in various states of decay....and belonging to man and beast alike.

The left side, from where they stood, was smeared with greasy hair and feathers and opened out at the bottom where it seemed the creature had slept.

Descending within took a strong stomach and even Salt, who other times delighted in finding something rank to roll in, was reticent to enter.

A nauseous but thorough search of the hollow over the next ten  minutes or so brought to light a dozen or so silver and bronze plaid pins of various Clans, 225 gold worth of coin/jewellry/nuggets/ingots and a strange iron clasped belt of white engraved leather that your eyes sting slightly to look upon for too long.

Slamming the big club into the carcass of the beast so that it sticks and stays in, Ori slowly walks around to where the others are. Now that he wasn't carryingthe big club,  he could use his good arm and leavethe other still. "Eat, at a time like this? Well its not a celebratory feast as I would have hope for but why not." Ori would suggest they all get at least one Berry (for nutrition sakes) but will gladly take how many could be spared. 

After the search party goes inside the cave, Ori would talk to Vardi 

 Once the others return with what they found, Ori will inspect the belt. "Well that's an interesting trophy,  kind of hard to look at really. Any idea about it?" Ori was thinking he could usecit as a makeshift sling for his arm, but wondered if he should be a bit more wary of it.

"Is it dead?" 

"Nay fog on ma shield. Most likely dead..." Vardi answers, though the tone of her voice suggests she is not entirely sure about that, as she watches the vast corpse for any movement.

Skuggi saunters over to where she stands in wary watchfulness and sniffs the behemoth body with a calmer curiosity than his owner, waiting for her to gather her wits. 

She replies "I think I'm good, thank ye fer askin. Hard rattled, aye, but nothing broken." to Cainneach's inquiry, never taking her eyes from the fallen foe. The Lyften lass murmurs "And thank Freya for that..." as she contemplates the sheer foolishness of her attempt to disarm a giant with no little embarrassment now she has the leisure to think about it.

The thud of the club makes the body move, startling her, but her fear is erased as Ori speaks. The look of annoyance she would have directed at him becomes one of concern.

"You can give Sarge mine." she tells Cainneach then whispers "How do ye keep up wi' a woman who dances about so swift tha eye cannay track 'em?" in gentle jest at the wonder that is Famh.

"Take care." Vardi says as the searcher delve further for answers in the late Fingal's abode and speaks further with Ori on the art of not dying. 

 "Eyebites like sunlight on snow." Vardi says, then holds a hand up a foot away from the belt, wondering if it radiates the cold it reminds her of.

(OOC: Arcana, to see if it reminds Vardi of anything from the tales of old, total of 12.)

"We didnae see hou it lookit at aw whan we first pullit it frae yon midden.," Famh assures her companions.  "Our een were shut tight sae the stench wouldnae burn thaim.  We couldna see aucht."  Now her attention has been drawn to it, she steps up next to Vardi and also begins to inspect the belt.  Could it have figured in the terrible wars before the beginning of history, the wars that were said to have been fought between the fomorians and the Tuatha de Danaan (the faerie folk)?  Or had it belonged to some famed human war-chieftain of old that Fingal conquered and vaunted over?

=========

Arcana 9

History 19

Unfortunately neither Vardi or Famh can recall any mention of such an item.....

Thatch joins the others, eyes still watering from the stench of the creature’s lair. “Found mostly personal effects from unlucky victims that wandered too close.  Maybe we can return the clan pins at least.”  He looks down at the fallen creature “Ser Almeric and the sheriff will be happy, that’s one task accomplished at least.”  He leaves the others to look over the belt and moves to collect his spent arrows.

Cainneach helps Thatch collect the clan pins, along with the other valuables.  "I hope the families of these poor folks will take solace in the knowledge that their loved ones' tormentor has been slain.  Maybe these baubles and coin can help make up for their loss in some small way."  He wasn't sure who might claim them, but Cainneach felt it might be wrong for him to take this ill-gotten treasure.  As for the belt, the forester probed him memories for long ago tales of such a strange item.

History 14

With Vardi before the others return:

 Ori will take the belt. "Well a trophy is a trophy, no matter how hard it is to look at, aye. Something to show for the trouble this thing cost." Throwing it over his shoulder, trying to point the hard to look at sections down, he looks at the others, "well hows everyone feeling, should we start back to Almeric right away or take a breather?" (What time of day is it?) 

Quote from EtyenAndiros >>

Cainneach helps Thatch collect the clan pins, along with the other valuables.  "I hope the families of these poor folks will take solace in the knowledge that their loved ones' tormentor has been slain.  Maybe these baubles and coin can help make up for their loss in some small way."  He wasn't sure who might claim them, but Cainneach felt it might be wrong for him to take this ill-gotten treasure.  As for the belt, the forester probed him memories for long ago tales of such a strange item.

History 14

Cainneach has a glimmer of recognition though he can't recall specifics, but he recalls a similar belt being a gift to the Borderer Clan Kirren from the Fomorian War God Neit....

Quote from Engineered_Beard >>

With Vardi before the others return:

"Well, between you and me, that beast landed a few blows..." He picked picks up his arm, wincing in pain and having to catch his breath a bit. "Truth now, how bad is it, I think my ribs were mis placed aye? Well not a word of how bad it is to the others, I don't need any babying  or know just how bad off it is. Alright? Let's keep the mood light for the moment, the gang just had a win and it's been too long g since we had one of those. "

 Ori will take the belt. "Well a trophy is a trophy, no matter how hard it is to look at, aye. Something to show for the trouble this thing cost." Throwing it over his shoulder, trying to point the hard to look at sections down, he looks at the others, "well hows everyone feeling, should we start back to Almeric right away or take a breather?" (What time of day is it?) 

 ( Mid Morning)

Quote from Engineered_Beard >>

 

 Ori will take the belt. "Well a trophy is a trophy, no matter how hard it is to look at, aye. Something to show for the trouble this thing cost." Throwing it over his shoulder, trying to point the hard to look at sections down, he looks at the others, "well hows everyone feeling, should we start back to Almeric right away or take a breather?" (What time of day is it?) 

 Famh looks at the belt and shudders. " A trophy's a trophy, aye, Ori; but I'd hae a care lest this ane prove as evil as Karvala's did.  An as tae whit we shoud dae, A'd say neither ye nor Vardi oucht tae move till after lunch.  Then gin yer wounds allow I'd say we shoud gae back tae Rory Mor and Sir Almeric wi' aw speit.  We aw owe our knicht a duty tae report our success at ance, and Rory will surely be the best ane tae speir gin he kens tae whom we shoud restore these pins."

========

Medicine 19 (can Famh use her needle of mending and her tailor's tools to help Vardi and/or Ori?)  (WIP)

As she plies her needle to stitch up her brave companions' wounds, Famh reflects on the whole matter of the advice the Cailleach gave her.   She looks over at Cainneach and sticks out her chin stubbornly. "She said I needit tae work on ma ee, but whit I wis lookin at him wi' wis the ee o' ma love for him."  She frowns in concentration before realizing her countenance is growing a little fierce and Cainneach is beginning to shoot her doubtful glances.  She smiles reassuringly at him and pats Salt (whom she has been slipping illicit titbits since the middle of lunch), then goes on with her muse.  "But bi cause o' ma fear for him, I saw the terrible wintry face o' the Cailleach while he himself wis speakin' tae her kindly ane."  A stray cloud passes and sends a beam of sunshine that perfectly bring out the highlights in Cainneach's beard, and Famh promptly loses track of her muse with a contented sigh.  Gatanades and Morkaan willing, they'd be traveling together for many years to come; there would be time enough for musing.