Storm King's Thunder

"Yes, hill giant hit me with its club," nods Marthun. "This was after it killed my brother. My other brother, Lezryk, and I are planning our revenge for the morrow; we'll track the creature down and slay it.

"As for the necromancer, no, I know not the name or purpose of this abomination. I only know the rumors that have circulated in the nearby villages. They say he has terrible magicks and can open portals to the abyss."

Quote from Awaypturwpn >>

"Yes, hill giant hit me with its club," nods Marthun. "This was after it killed my brother. My other brother, Lezryk, and I are planning our revenge for the morrow; we'll track the creature down and slay it.

Quote from Awaypturwpn >>

"As for the necromancer, no, I know not the name or purpose of this abomination. I only know the rumors that have circulated in the nearby villages. They say he has terrible magicks and can open portals to the abyss."

You feel as if he's lying...perhaps about the injury, or about his brother. Having fought a hill giant and seen her club, you are certain that the wound is obviously not from a club. It's hard to ascertain the exact weapon type from a wound in such an advanced state of healing, without having seen the wound while it was open.

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

 "A portal? That would explain a lot."

 

"My condolences for your loss. Why were you three out in the wilderness anyways? What brought you to this... village?"

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

"My condolences for your loss. Why were you three out in the wilderness anyways? What brought you to this... village?"

No sooner does he turn around than a bearded man, perhaps 10 years older but strikingly similar in looks, comes down the stairs. His hair is short-cropped and he sports a well-trimmed beard. His hair is black, like Marthun's, but speckled with grey. "Come now brother, no need to be so tight-lipped!" The older smiles at you all as he comes down the stairs, slightly unsteady, flagon in hand.

"These folks here deserve a good story! How we set out to compete for the full inheritance! Of course poor Rantharl is out of the game, rest his soul." Ale sloshes out of his mug as he walks to one of the tables on the lodge's ground floor.

Ink arches an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting, indeed. And what are the rules of this competition?" 

Crownsguard gives a mental thumbs up. He’s always up for stories. However, no one shall ever know, because he’s in sleep mode.

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

Ink arches an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting, indeed. And what are the rules of this competition?" 

Meanwhile, Argus Filroy has taken the opportunity to retreat into his cellar, allowing the dishes to continue washing and drying themselves.

Ink looks at the new entrant to the conversation, with mild suspicion, "How did this competition come to pass? The idea of it.... Not only did you lose one brother, but your other brother was really hurt, as well. How'd it happen?"

//  Ink asks knowing that hill giants tend to use clubs and stones - bludgeoning damage not typical of creating lacerations.  //

"Where did this happen? We don't want to run into any errant Hill giants by accident on our own travels."

//  Would Ink know if hill giants, under normal conditions, are endemic to the area? Or in comparison to the recent what he learned from the hill giantess a few days prior? //

"Well as you've no doubt heard, giants are at large everywhere! And it's just our luck that we should discover this—we had agreed to travel here where our forefathers used to hunt, and when we got here we would decide on the terms. It's a big inheritance, you know, and we figured what's the point of sharing it? Winner take all!

"And hill giants—well, they're bloody stupid, aren't they? We'd heard reports from passersby about a hill giant sighting, and tracked it down. But Rantharl got stupid. Started arguing with us during the fight, got distracted. He got Marthun wounded and got himself killed. Big hill giant with a great club like that can do we damage. Anyway, we had to retreat. But come tomorrow, we'll track it down once more and kill it this time."

// Giants rampaging unchecked is an odd concept in general, but since Triboar, you probably wouldn't be that surprised to see a troupe of juggling storm giants at your next port of call! Plus that, it's been days travel since you met and killed your first hill giant. Hill giants in this area doesn't seem too far-fetched. //

"hey Ink, i had an idea i need to discuss with you after this" Rip will whisper to Ink not wanting to interrupt the current conversation 

//Given that Crownsguard is still fully conscious, would he be able to recall if giants were an issue back in his day?//

"Yeah - a great club like that could do a lot of damage - where did you say this happened? And if you need help recovering your brother's body - please, let us know," Ink says in reply.

Upon hearing Rip's whisper, he nods in agreement.

"Several miles north of the Evermoor Way," the reply comes from Lezryk. "We already buried him, thank you, and no, we don't need any help!" He drains his ale and pounds the flagon onto the table, then rises and begins to stumble back towards the stairs. "Just need to get on by ourselves...resolve this game and collect my winnings! Good night!" 

Quote from JcAndD >>

//Given that Crownsguard is still fully conscious, would he be able to recall if giants were an issue back in his day?//

Retrieving Memory.exe: 19