Jex shrugs and smiles at Val. 

"It is nothing, our goals are aligned and the gods and chance brought us together at the same time."

At the camp, Jex takes the offered meal gratefully. 

"Forgive me, it has been a long time since I ate something hot. Perhaps some tales as we eat? I am sorry your friend was taken and I hope we can find him. But if we are to continue together it may be reassuring to know of the pasts of our companions. I am sure you all have some good stories to tell."

Valaith joins the others in savoring the delicious, hot meal. Despite the pall that hangs over their accomplishments, Valaith's jovial attitude to starting to come out more and more as the conversation goes; however, as Jex brings up knowing each other's pasts she becomes a bit more sullen and quiet briefly, staring into the fire. "I grew up in mountains far to the south, near the frozen lands. As far as I know, my entire tribe was destroyed by a group of frost giants while I was out with a hunting party. I do not know if any of my people survived or were taken prisoner, but there were none breathing when I returned..." She glances over at Vark for a moment, as if debating speaking aloud her thoughts. "The rest of my hunting party died while we were attempting to outrun an orcish warband which was headed towards my people. I alone barely finished the journey and was forced to flee with what little I could find before the orcs arrived. And that is how I ended up here."

Jex shakes his head in sullen empathy. 

"I never even knew my people. If I can truly have any. Grew up in the temple I was abandoned at. Its why I took the vows. Then the visions started coming at night and I set off to do Thor's work,as he bids me. He is a wise and charitable patron as much as he is a powerful one." He nods at Thurston looking for tacit agreement on his assessment and sharing some enjoyment in talking of their deity. 

"Aye, thunder an' such is good fer scarin' wee babes, but 'ave ye ever seen the roots of a mountain? A storm on a mountaintop is like a drunk arse screamin' in a tavern; lots o'noise an' carryin' on, but won' stand a fight if'e takes the whole bar." Bründir smiles over his pipe, thinking back to the depths of the mines in Sheercleft.

Jex raises an eyebrow, but waits to see how Thurston will respond to the insult on Thor rather than stepping straight in himself. 

"I.... I was nearly killed several times by mountaintop storms." Vark says in response to Brundir. "We used to get real bad ones up on the peak my tribe lived under." at this he glances to Val, having sensed her discomfort. "I... w-well I never much got along with the tribe. They saw me as weak for my human blood. So I was chosen to be an expendable courier, to take offerings up the mountain to the storm giant the tribe worshipped like a god. And, well I became friends with him. Aureanous. he taught me a lot... I... don't know what became of him though. The last time I saw him, he was being attacked by strange figures who wielded lightning and wind. Just like Aureanous did... and I guess just like I do now. I was struck by a stray bolt and woke up outside." with this, he gestures to the branching scars that cross his face. "I left the tribe after that... they wouldn't have understood."

Thurston scoffs at Brundir’s words

”If you were so confident in your strength you wouldn’t hide under the rocks when Thor wields Mjörlin. You said yourself, even the rocks fall under his might and, drop in your rocky heart, you know that your mountains only stand tall thanks to him and the protection he offers against our enemies. “ he takes a bit of his food. “ Just be sure to show gratitude now and then “ 

he then turns to Vark. 

“That’s an awesome history. I would say that one can never trust a giant, but for your words, it seems that Aureanos was a character...” 

"A giant, ye say? Well, that's dif'rent, then. Thunder an' wind move as they please, but don' 'ave much mind t'them. As fer yer God o' Thunder an' his contest ag'nst mountains, 'ave ye ever hear about when he challenged th' Mountain King? Since our friend mentioned giants, seems only fitting." Without a pause for response, Bründir leaped into his tale.

Long ago, when gods ran through the world like you and I, Thor was known for his temper and pride. One day, he took a nap on a mountain and woke to find his hammer missing! For days, he searched across the mountain and its range until he was told it was taken by the Mountain King. Thor rushed to the underground halls of the King and found it was a land of giants. Not wanting to start a war between gods and giants, Thor came as a guest and made his request before the Mountain King during a feast. The Mountain King laughed and told Thor, "It is such a nice hammer, but you may have it back if you can best my challenges." Taken aback, Thor insisted that it was stolen nd should be returned. The Mountain King countered that Thor was not permitted onto the mountain in the first place and could be seen as trespassing. The giant goaded the god by saying that apparently anyone can obtain godly might by just picking up a hammer. 

Infuriated, Thor took up the challenge immediately. The Mountain King waved for his cupbearer and handed a gilded horn to Thor. He said, "This is my own drinking horn. If you can drink all the water within it dry, I will see you worthy." The horn was massive for an ordinary man, but Thor was greater. Taking long pulls from the drought, Thor drank and drank. He continued until his stomach was near to bursting. He continued until he struggled to breath. Finally, when his vision blurred and darkened, the god dropped the horn and heaved a mouthful of water on the floor. The Mountain King caught the horn and held it to Thor. The god saw that the horn still had over half the water left within. Smiling, the giant spoke again, "I will give you another test." Undeterred, Thor agreed.

"This is my cat," the Mountain King proclaimed before a small housecat - though a lion by human standards -  on the floor, "Lift him from the floor and I will know you are worthy." Thor leaped at the cat and pulled with all his might, but it never moved. Again and again he pulled, but the cat rested peacefully. With a great heave, Thor lifted a paw from the ground, but the rest of the pet refused all effort. When he released the cat's paw, he heard a great clamour among the room and the Mountain King spoke once more, "Thor, I grant you one last test to prove yourself worthy of your mighty hammer: A grappling match against my grandmother!"

Thor smiled and laughed at the Mountain King when an old, toothless crone entered the room. The two locked armed and hands, then Thor found himself being moved! He pushed and twisted, but the old hag defied him at every turn. On and on they struggled, but neither was a match for the other and the contest raged. Finally, the gaint host clapped his hands and the crone broke away from her adversary. Throwing his hands up, Thor shouted across the hall, "You have bested me at each turn, King! You have my hammer, and I will have it back despite your games."

The Mountain King rose from his throne and strode across the room, hammer in hand, and presented it to Thor, "The weapon is yours, and had I not seen your feats for myself, I would not have believed it!" Confused, Thor took his hammer and the King brought the challenged forward togrther. With a have of his hand, they each transformed before the god, "You see my drinking horn? The bottom is tied to the seas and oceans of the world. When you return hom, see how far the coasts and shores have retreated now with how much you drank!" Before them, the cat on the floor transformed into the vision of a mighty serpent, "This cat here is actually the mighty World Serpent which circles the world over! See how you were able to dislodge it from the world it constricts? No one in all the world could accomplish such a deed." Last, the old crone stepped forward, "This woman is Old Age, and no man in all the world can stand against her. Still, you proved an equal match for her time and time again. You have proven yourself to me as worthy of your mantle, and you are welcome in my halls for the rest of your days."

It's another full day's travel along the forest road west to Hyarantar and night is falling by the time Jex's wagon arrives at the foot of the treetop village. Fireflies dance softly about the grove and a cool wind whistles amongst the mighty trunks.

Thurston smiles at Bründir's tale

"An old tale but it's nice for you to know it my friend" 

Once they reach the elven city the big human tells one of the entrance guards. 

"Please, notify the Lord and the Lady that we have returned. And with grim news I am afraid " he says taking a significant look at the interior of the cart. 

The tall, elven guard eyes Thurston and the wagon with suspicion. His hand rests relaxed, but ready at the hilt of his blade.

"What have you brought among us, Norscan?"

Dorno listens intently at everyones tales, especially the story of Thor and the Mountain King.  He is like a child eager to hear what happens next.  At the conclusion his ears wiggle showing his enjoyment.  The same happens a day later when the treetop city is close as Dorno turns his head about watching the fireflies dance and taking in the majesty of the place.  "Can we see the nice pretty lady now?" he asks the others with a wide smile.

"We've come back from yer bandit problem. Problem's gone, an' we saved yer friend 'ere, but I'm afraid we couldn't do the same fer yer ambassador."

The guard's posture softens slightly. It seems he's heard of the group from Sheercleft sent to tackle the bandit problem, but Thurston's talk of 'grim news' inside the wagon still has him wary. He peers between the ranks of the group and spots the rescued prisoner's mess of fiery hair amongst them.

"Lúthedir?" He asks, clearly surprised. "Mani naa lle doien sinome? Gadron nyare lle a' kela."

Elvish:

 Lùthedir shrugs back with a tired smile.

"Amin ume, Nodron.  Amin nae glake e' i' taure.  Lye Mellonea sinome faine amin."

Elvish:

 Suspicion still in his eyes, the guard steps towards the wagon, making to peer inside and inspect whatever 'grim' cargo they might be carrying.

"W-we found him like that... it was too late. Some sort of dark binding ritual. It... well I don't know your customs but... maybe it would be good to have a cleric inspect him, make sure there's nothing... lingering." Vark rambles as the elf opens the wagon.

As the guard passes the side of the wagon, heading for its single rear facing door, an unnatural croak like something between a growl and a screech echoes about the grove from atop the wooden vehicle. Shrouded in the shadows of the twilit forest, a dark figure throws itself down onto the elf!

Everybody roll initiative in discord.

"By Thor's beard! " yells Thurston reaching for his warhammer and trying to put himself between the figure and the surprised guard.

As Thurston moves closer to the figure that leapt from the roof, it shifts into the torchlight and its features come into focus. It is Irithiel's decaying corpse, still wrapped in the paladin's cloak!

Roll your attack.

The paladin readies his warhammer to hit the attacker in the chest, but when he recognizes the undead features of the elf they tried to save he hesitates and the attack doesn't even seems like an attack.

"Thor's Thunder!!"  "What do we do? Do we kill him again? Don't they would get angry?" he asks to his companions. He still moves in front of the creature and asks Thor to mark it with his signal, so, in case it runs, he could follow it. 

Valaith had been quiet and introspective during the journey to the elven city, speaking really only when directly addressed by others. She did thoroughly enjoy the story told by Brundir, smiling as her companion weaved quite the tale. She frowns at the strange reaction of the elven soldier; however, she relaxes upon recalling all the terrible sights she'd witnessed during that past few days.

She remains in her spot, casually waiting for the guard to inspect their grisly package. She gives a slight start at the awful scream as she spins to see the figure's twisted visage and lets out an angry growl. "By the Gods, I am going to make that dragonborn ***** pay! Can this poor fellow find no peace?!" She strides up to the undead figure, unslinging her maul as she does. With a hearty slam, the head of the maul cracks into the torso of Irithiel! Her smile suddenly withers, though, as the creature seems to absorb much of the powerful blow. "This may be more difficult than I thought..." She risks a glance over to Thurston.