The change in plans was rather sudden, then again being a thief plans change suddenly for James. He lands next to Markus, his form solidifying after minute.
"Well then I suppose we best be off to find the giant and the dragon. How are we all going to get to Vael Turog?" He was beginning to wonder if the goddess of misfortune was sowing seeds of misfortune among the group.

---

The question was asked by the shiftiest of their troupe, only for the Druid to raise her voice once again. "All you need to do is ask", she assured the inquiring minds of the means of travel being handled. "While the many visions seen do prevent me from personally joining you, I still managed to confirm a way one could make it to Vael Turog, fast." With that, she approached a nearby tree and placed her hand against it. Marcus could only raise an eyebrow at this display, but they were soon briefed on how this was going to work. She would cast a spell, and they would step within the tree, to emerge from the other end as if it was just a simple step to be taken. Very well.

And that was exactly how the transition would take place. They were in a hurry: Ellenara had explained that the spell could only last for seconds before the pathway would close again. As soon as she'd given the sign, Marcus had stepped through, into the bitter cold beyond. Granted, he usually was a bit warmer than comfortable in all his armour, but here all that was brushed away in a millisecond. While he marched on a few more steps to give other space to emerge, he cursed the fact he had not prepared better beforehand. Well, it had not been his task to walk here in the first place, but where his aid was needed he would go. Forgoing all that for now though, he really could use a warm cloak or three. The current one was more for protection from magic than the very elements.

Behind him, everyone still seeking to join in the task of taking down the giants and their supposed pet dragon (or the dragon and its supposed pet giants?) walked into the snowy atmosphere. The wind forced itself through the flimsier of the fresh arrival's clothing, making sure they knew just how unforgiving their new environment would be. Marcus turned around after surveying the surroundings for a second. A village, more so than a town at least. Most of the buildings looked quite ramshackle to a cursory glance, though they would stand, and likely act as a barrier against the wind, even if any and all heat would rather see its way out. With everyone now gathered, he nodded at them.

"We have arrived. By Tyr's word, we were advised to seek more information in this place. Those of you who still possess the gift of flight, granted by divine influence or as something entirely, should likely take to the skies and have a look around for anything particularly interesting. In the meantime I shall lead the search for further clues in this settlement", Marcus took charge of the initiative, not expecting himself to be challenged for the position. And looking at those around, the only one likely to do such a thing would be Ada, and she hadn't seemed... right, not since her drunken bender.

Once those that would either follow the suggestion for scouting had left or everyone had decided to remain (and earn a roll of Marcus's eyes), it was time to begin searching. The locals were not exactly out on the streets, that they were not, but the first individual they walked into was a kinsman of the Paladin, another half-orc! "Excuse us, we are looking for any information we might be able to get about the giants-"

"And the dragon, am I right?" the half-orc interrupted the question. "Yeah, nah", he dismissed the inquiries and continued on, carrying the firewood in his arms to wherever it was heading while Marcus was left standing behind quite dumbfounded. Had an offer for help, in a situation this dire to boot, just been... refused? He straightened his back as he stared after the fur-clad individual, while the chilling wind sought the openings in his plate mail. No, there was no other way for him to twist and turn it. That had been a stern refusal.

"Odd, do you not think?" he finally asked of those in his company before raising his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight filtering in through the heavy clouds. In this environment, every little bit helped. The snow could be quite bright, especially on the higher cliffs that were now excluded from his field of vision. "There!" he declared soon after and set on another approach, this time towards a human in the company of... a much larger individual. They were both wearing some sort of a thick coat, while the taller one also had a fur collar to protect her neck. The shorter turned out to be a man, quite surprisingly.

Marcus had barely had time to introduce himself as a Paladin of Tyr, before the shorter one answered: "Ah, adventurers. Here either for the giant and the dragons or a spot of Yeti hunting sport. For someone of your status, probably the former. Listen here, not many are going to say much. There's been many before you, will be many after you. Head to the guild, bother them instead. Last thing we need is to feel someone else's death on our shoulders. Let them handle that." The Goliath woman simply nodded and the two went on. Marcus could spy a couple of axes on the Goliath's back as they headed away, not that it would likely matter much.

He shook his head, pressing his hand against his forehead for a brief second before realising the metal was now cold too. "I do guess we do have ourselves a clue", he confirmed as he returned to the rest of the bunch on the ground. "The guild, I was told. That many have come and that many would come after us. They do not seem to think too highly of... our sort, I might have to put it. Now then..." he explained, raising a finger to his ear. "Might anyone know where this 'Guild' is?" he asked, specifically from their aerial scouts.


@JBRam2002@Lurking Krog@Guardian Angel Haruki@16 Bit@The Grey Dust

The cold will not settle well for these old bones.

The single line of uttered with a sigh spoke volumes of Kethan's age. Nevertheless, the old cleric found himself pressed on, the duties of one called by his goddess compelled him to devote his faith here. It seems Sir Lakeltia's order would rise to assist with the undead in lieu of their team, holding back the horde for now as these living legends had to contend with draconian giants and giant dragons. Unfortunately most of their crew had all but dissolved, either required to deal with the possibility of the Orc's return or having slipped away somehow. Fortunately their resident druid was able to create a tree portal using her connection to the natural world, one that Kethan would like to aspire too had he the time to spend hours in the woods without his grand library, but it came at the cost of her presence in the field. Regardless, it seemed Lady Mavros, Sir Lakeltia, the Alchemist and the Fool would need some form of spellcasting services for utility and healing no less. Surely now the paladin of Tyr would need to drop the hammer harder, Ada had her bow, and the alchemist her mad science. Whatever the Talon'd could do was fretfully minimal no doubt, perhaps if they needed someone to stab them in the back. Kethan took it upon himself to keep a wary eye on this rascal and ensure the relative safety of his companions. As long as he could keep up with the youth.

Not even dragonfire could warm them.

---

"In such bitter cold a man has but one desire: trading his useless gold for a warming fire."

A general quip regarding the temperature, the climes were not agreeable at all, the nip in the air certainly did more than shake a chill beneath the robes he wore. Had he presage of coming to the mountains, he would have stopped for winter clothes, alas such was not the case in the precious moment of time. Not only were they on the clock of armageddon, but surely the heroic feast they had at dinner was not to be wasted on idle shopping. While true the adversaries were the giants and dragons, perhaps the weather itself would turn against them. If they needed room for the night however, Kethan could conjure up a devoted temple of Ioun as required, as long as no one needed critical healing or resurrections, such acts took quite a bit of effort and the elder had yet to take his midday nap to replenish his energy. But at the age of seventy six, who could blame a human for reaching his limits so early in the day? Naps after all were good for productivity. But there was no rest for the devout, having quite literally marched into a tree to appear a great distance away, Kethan had already mounted himself atop Zaphkiel to take to the skies per the paladin's suggestion. Both faithful had their spirited companions after all, celestials who served alongside them in the schemes of the gods.

From the sky above the settlement, from the master librarian could see all, and from this vantage point he could see the chaos of the structures. The lack of a decent architect, the lack of planning in housing and urban development, the general natural development of the sprawl was clearly evident of either an old city created from a hodgepodge of whatever was erected at the time, or a brutish governor who was as thoughtless as they were impulsive. Regardless what few passers visible from the all-seeing eye of one so used to spotting out a single volume of lore within rows upon rows of seemingly endless shelves found the pattern in the cacophony. Two buildings appeared to be the main attractions with gathered folks, not quite on the same street, but within proximity of each other: a stone's throw perhaps. One perhaps was an inn, with a few humanoids with tasks in hand, and the other perhaps the Guild they were directed to which featured a pair of hulking goliaths and six goblins seeming to settle some dispute. A general gentleman's dispute judging by the lack of hostility in stance and posture, to which position as he was, Kethan and Zaphkiel had yet to be seen by the goblins and their low stature nor the goliaths who lacked eyes on the back of their heads.

"I may have found the location of the Guild." Kethan notified the rest of the team, hushed into the earpiece giving the approximate location of where he was landing, hopefully the rest of the gang could follow his instructions through the rambling maze of the city. "Have no alarm, I am no heaven sent divine agent, but do we require arbitration from this old cleric? Or shall the quarrel be dropped solely upon my arrival?"

Did the they expect an religious inquisition?

The transition from Mavros to Vael Turog through trees was yet again another new experience for James. As was the sudden change in temperature. "Well this should be good..." He muttered to himself newbie taking Markus' advice to take to the air.

The old cleric was upward faster than James, simply due to the Pegasus he had and due to James needing to focus on returning to the gaseous form granted to him by the windwalk spell that the paladin had cast. Once his form had altered he took to the skies going above the roofs of the hovels that made up the settlement. The wind blew harder and colder up there leaving him with little more than the thoughts of wanting to hurry and find this guild so he may try to warm himself by a fire, maybe even try find some warmer clothing if time allowed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the smell of food cooking from a nearby inn, which drew his attention back down. He could see a building that seemed less trafficked and also was the source of the smell. Nearby there a group of eight figures, two goliaths and six heavily covered figures, could be seen arguing in front of what appeared to be a large building. He went to get closer to the group to try to hear what the argument was about only to have that blasted cleric swoop in on his mount. He did hear Kethan alert the others to the fact of him finding the guild just before and now the cleric's attention seemed to be on the group that was arguing, who had now also stopped with the sudden interruption.

James floated down into an alley to switch back to his normal form before heading into the guild. He walked past Kethan, who had just finished offering to arbitrate the matter between the goliaths and the other six figures, and walked past the eight others. He noticed one goliath looking him up and down, albeit with only his eyes, and the look that was rather decerning of an unimpressed disposition of what he saw. The bard in guise didn't really put much care into impressing others from a physical stand point, which he presumed was what the goliath was looking at. With step and a pause as he opened the door he turn back towards Kethan. "Grandfather, we should go inside and wait for the others. This isn't our quarrel nor our business." He stood there with the door slightly ajar waiting for the cleric.

Janine Fawkes
Scrapmouse

Scrapmouse's Wings of Flying were dismissed after she lowered herself off of the perch. She watched as the Elf casted a spell on a tree and created a portal for them. She quickly hopped onto Sparky, and she patted the mechanical servant and commanded "Alright Sparky! Full speed ahead!" After Sparky gave a noise of affirmation, the mechanical servant charged ahead through the portal.

...

"HOLY MOTHER OF--! IT'S FREEZING!"

Scrapmouse quickly grabbed her arms and shivered. She thought she was prepared for the cold. Apparently, she was wrong. She looked to the half-orc paladin as he stated that they needed to find information. Kethan immediately took on the job of scouting, and no sooner than he left he informed them that he found the location of the guild. As much as Scrapmouse would have loved to help, she had already used her Wings of Flying for the day.

As the two scouted and after they relayed their information, Scrapmouse asked Marcus, "Think they'll listen to another Guild member? I think I can try an' talk to them when we get there,"

Scrapmouse had been a member of a Guild ever since before she started adventuring. Maybe her roots in the guild can help them out in this situation?

---

As Marcus took the initiative, Ada let out a quiet sigh of relief. Giving orders all the time was exhausting, especially when some refused to follow them. Here, she was among equals, not subjects, none of whom had any reason to obey her commands. She had no authority anymore, anyways.

The sigh instantly turned into a shudder as the cold hit the group like a slap across the face. "Finding any shelter would be smart in this town," Ada declared. "We won't last long in cold like this." Despite the relatively close geographic relationship between this outpost and Mavros, Ada knew little about Vael Turog other than what she had read. She was no diplomat, after all; she was a ruler of her city.

"If you please," Ada continued, trying to keep her teeth from chattering, "simply refer to me as a commoner outside of Mavros. Nobility is not easily welcomed in the crueler areas of the world. This city is likely no different. After all, we are not far from the Goblin Wastes."

Thankfully, the others were able to locate a building she hoped was the Adventurer's Guild hall before too long. Ada walked along towards the rear of the group, her fingertips lightly running along her bow. They needed to be on their guard in a place as seedy as this town appeared. At Scrapmouse's suggestion, Ada nodded. "It's worth a shot. They will likely listen to one of their own easier than anyone else."

---

Marcus nodded at the gnome's words. Uncouth language as they might be, they were perhaps the best way to put this feeling into words. It was nothing short of dreadful, standing against these elements. And that was coming from a man clad in plate and accompanying underarmour. What did she have? A scale mail would provide some protection, but it was far from as complete as his. And with the size of her body, she might well be one of the first to succumb if they did not seek warmth. Oh, here he was, getting worried because she was smaller than him. Again. He should really try to get over that. Scrapmouse was just as capable a champion as the rest of them.

Marcus stretched for a bit, trying to keep the heat in his body flowing. Again, they would need to do something about how vulnerable they were to the weather alone. But before that, there were still a few words to address. The main point being Ada asking for her title to be forgotten. "From this moment onward, Ada Mavros, you are nothing more than a member of our group. None of us will bow to any authority you may have once possessed. You have become an equal to us, as you wished", Marcus stated to the formed duchess' request, before raising a finger to his ear once again. "They seem to have found the hall", he informed those in his company before pressing a bit harder on the earpiece. "Directions, if you would."

Ask and you shall receive, and all that. Soon they were on their way to the new destination, and the Paladin had time to give his own two copper pieces on the matter of the guild people listening to another member: "There is the chance, but we can never be too sure. More often than not, the appearance of a Hammer of Grimjaws it met with joy and celebration. These people had time and patience for neither. Expect the unexpected." He remained cautiously optimistic though. The chances were always there.

---

Meanwhile, at the doors of the guild hall, the Goliaths would very much echo the sentiments of the man that had appeared from between the two buildings. "This indeed is no business you would have a part in. They failed their task and that is it. No amount of words will change that", the other Goliath would say and shoo James and the elder away. "Now go, enter the hall if you must. We have more pressing matters to attend to." All in all, they remained just as unimpressed as they had appeared to be at first.

The two would have a bit of time in the hall before the rest would arrive. It could have been bigger, but for a village of this size, there was already a surprising amount of space. A few humans walked around in official guild uniforms keeping order in the hall, where there had either been a fight or a loud celebration probably no longer than an hour ago. Many tables apparently needed scrubbing, and the keeper of the small bar in the corner seemed to be tallying up something. The counter from which one usually requested tasks from seemed to be open as per usual, other than for the fact that another of the cloaked figures was frantically trying to explain something to the Goliath behind the counter. The receiving end of the explanation looked only like they had heard enough to last six lifetimes.

The arrival of the two new figures had the Goliath stand up straight and speak up once again. "The facts do not change. You were tasked to bring the beast down. We cannot take your word for 'it fell into a ravine and perished'. We require proof, and you know it. Now go, finish the task up or there is nothing more we need to discuss!" The goblin looked somewhat dejected and hopped off the stool it had been using to make it up to the counter, before shuffling past the two fresh arrivals. The Goliath greeted them with a nod. "Now you, you look... new. Not least thanks to your lack of attire. What brings you to Vael Turog?"


@JBRam2002@Lurking Krog@Guardian Angel Haruki@The Grey Dust

---

James held the door for Kethan waiting for him to enter. Once both inside he did take note of the other robed figure before them talking frantically to the goliath that was hunched over looking like he was done with the conversation. Outside of those two there were only a few humans patrolling and a person behind a bar counting what was probably coin. The state of the tables reminded him of a few bars he had been in, at least two were in Valera.

James let's the goblin pass after the goliath had ended the conversation, watched it for a brief moment, then looking walking up to the counter. "We are looking for information on some frost giants, and probably warmer clothing. The frost giants are led by one who is called Hrasvelger." James leans forward on the counter watching the goliath carefully.

"Failure is forgivable, Ignorance is insufferable." Another quip from the hoary cleric of Ioun as he bowed his brow to bid the gentlemen off. "Come along then you rascal, calling me grandfather to mock my age much less to honor my sagacity." His cane-staff touched the ground first as the older of the two dismounted his from his faithful servant. It was far less than graceful certainly, although given his age and remaining life of his knee cartilage it was still impressive someone as old as he still rode. Well, using human standards at least, elves had their nigh immortality, and dwarves aren't usually seen riding horses given their vertical handicap.

So it was the guild, not bad for a cold little hamlet, but certainly nothing as wondrous as Kethan's own local chapter. Too many adventurers from there always flitting into his library and making a mess of things. Asking his fellow librarians for assistance on seeking information about this or that through the day. Fortunately they had specific staff to help with the mild nuisance but spellcasting and scroll-writing services were part of the cleric's duties amongst others. Everyone had their responsibilities within the organization, although it was clear the cleaning staff were a bit lax given the state of disarray things, surely it was not a welcome party for their unannounced arrival. And then again, few people have heard of Kethan these days, and perhaps Sir Lakeltia or Lady Mavros would be have a greater celebrity status, or a guild member. Who would give the time of day to an old man and a talentless bard?

"We came because the gods command it, although the cold inspires impiety." A witty reply to the goliath at the counter. "And as my, more direct acquaintance here had told you, warm clothing, and giants. In that order if you will... Guildmaster I presume?"

The Guildmaster bit his lip at the requests for information. The call for them being on a mission from gods, that part in turn earned a sigh. While the goliath would shake his head, he would also open his mouth to share his two copper pieces on the matter: "Guildmaster, yes, that is I. For the information you seek however, I must regrettably share with you that you are hardly the first to seek said undertaking. Many have come before you. Very few, in turn, have returned. And those who have have come back in shambles. God's mission or not, are you certain you are prepared?" He placed his hands on the countertop and leaned over it, judging the two men with his gaze from above. "Just the two of you, no matter how powerful you may think yourselves, will not stand a chance."

"Certainly shopping for winter clothing is not so horrendous and undertaking Guildmaster," A fair point after all, since Kethan did suggest the goliath give information in a particular order. One was more pressing than the other. "Jest asside Guildmaster, We won't be the last to search for giants if the cold claims us first. There are more of us coming... Hopefully if they can find their way here."

The Goliath snorted, thoroughly unamused by the old man's words. "If you made it here without troubles in your current attire, you can also find your way back in it. If there is no reason for you to go and throw your lives away, why should it be enabled by giving away knowledge that will only lead to your doom? For one of your age, I would have suspected you to be able to tell such truths", he stated in an offended tone and waved towards one of the few tables that were currently not being cleaned. "If there is nothing else you seek, it is better you sit down and wait for your friends to arrive. Perhaps they manage a more convincing speech."

James winced at Kerthan's words. Surely the cleric would have known to try for a less abrasive approach. "We only seek to prevent others from suffering the same fate as these adventurers. We have also gotten word there is a dragon working with these giants and they are moving." He pulled away from the counter heading to a table. "Here first of course. But I guess we can't help you if you won't help us." He added. He figured a honeyed approach wouldn't work now since the cleric had been so brash. Maybe a bit more with a half truth would help however.

"You would withhold information then?" A tap of Kethan's walking stick as a reminder of who it was the guildmaster was dealing with. The Symbol of Ioun emblishing the handle as more than mere ornation. A symbol of faith and authority all the same, a source of power for the faithful, much less so than the arcane. "As I have said, we are here by the Gods, do not test my faith Guildmaster, I assure you at my age, there's little life to throw away. We understand the possiblity of death is great, but it is our lives or yours as is so often the case, and our failure will most likely result in the death of those unwilling to throw their lives away. I have already come to terms with my mortality, whether I can stand before my lady Ioun in her hall as one of her scholars having willingly disobeyed her is something I cannot do. As such, I would again ask you for information Guildmaster, and I beg you not to withhold anything for if many have failed, then it is in their failure shall we learn to suceed Guildmaster."

The Guildmaster slammed his hands against the counter and leaned further towards the old man that had walked in and was now acting like he owned the place. "I do not care what your dogma says about this or that! If I gave the information to every single adventurer that cam knocking, this village would be responsible for even more death than it already is! Do you think it is easy for our sentries to gaze into the distance, to be the last who see the cloaks of the adventurers leave, never to return!?" The goliath bellowed, before falling back to the space behind the counter, rather than over it.

A deep breath and a fist risen to his forehead later, the Guildmaster rubbed his forehead against his knuckles and continued, now in a much calmer tone: "Look, old man, if you are who I think you are, you are well known for your capability to heal, not as much slaying giants and dragons. I do not seek to obstruct those with the capability to take down said threat. But giving away the location to those ill prepared would only lead to unnecessary death." He removed the fist from his forehead and placed his hand on the counter once again, looking Kethan straight into the eyes. "You will have your knowledge once the rest of your allies are here, on the assumption they seem competent."

As James sits at a table near the hearth and listens to the guildmaster and Kethan exchange words. While doing so he took out the lute and played an old song that he heard in a tavern long ago. "Come Kethan the fire is warm. The others should be here soon and the man can make his judgement of our skill."
He started to sing in dwarvish to the tune he played. It was for sure not his best he thought as he missed a few cords and sung slightly off key. He would need to work on that to maintain his guise.

With a solemn nod, the warning was taken well. Yes, Kethan knew the risks, and more so he had been in the Guildmaster's position many times over. How many fools had he sent to their deaths over the last few years in his retirement? Few returned, and those who did often were seeking more information on this or another misadventure. Those who did not return, Kethan could only assume they had either given up their quest or died in such attempts. Perhaps it was easier for him knowing that his powers of resurrection could bring back the dead, and perchance even request his goddess intervene. If indeed the Guildmaster knew who Kethan was, then perhaps the goliath would understand this was no willy-nilly party of would be errandboys leaping to their cold and untimely deaths. They were seasoned champions, legends of their own right no less across the land. But all that slipped away the moment that brash idiot opened his mouth. A most mediocre melody, twas not the cold that numbed his fingers or voice, no the roaring fire ought to banish those and certainly Kethan was not yet falling apart at the joints so why wouldn a spring chicken? Perhaps it was his instrument that took to the cold, but certainly a bard would check and tune his instrument as his lively livelihood depends on it, no there was something else amiss that casted Kethan's doubts over the so-called bard. "Unless my hearing fails me in my age boy, if you keep playing like that, he won't need to wait very for the others..."

Failing hearing or not, the waiting was nonetheless over. The doors to the Guild Hall opened once again, making way for a half-orc clad in full plate armour, and two quite a bit more lightly armoured and less imposing women. Marcus, Ada and Scrapmouse had arrived. The Guildmaster raised his eyes towards the door and nodded to the fresh arrivals. "Here with these two?" he requested to know.


@JBRam2002@Lurking Krog@Guardian Angel Haruki@The Grey Dust

Janine Fawkes
Scrapmouse

Scrapmouse entered the Guild Hall, with Sparky in tow. Once the both of them entered the warm confines of the building, Scrapmouse gave a shudder, a "Brrr!", and rubbed her arms with her gloved hands. She looked to the Guildmaster when he asked, and she proceeded to stand up on Sparky, so that she could at least be somewhat eye level with the man. She looked to see Kethan and James, and she answered, "Gramps and Twinkle Toes? Yup! They're wit' us!"

She then looked at the Guildmaster's face carefully, and upon seeing that she didn't recognize him, she grinned and chuckled "Ya look like a new face!" She then whipped out her emblem, which was a clover and a wrench in adamantite. It was her special guild symbol. No one but her had this particular symbol.

She grinned and greeted as she showed the guild members her emblem, "Pleased to meet ya! Hope ya guessed my name! Now what are yours?"

---

The heat of the guild hall was quite welcome a change to the billowing winds that kept the rest of Vael Turog in their grasp, the half-orc needn't admit silently. He let out an audible sigh of relief as they could leave the elements behind, though before he had had any chance to move on, Scrapmouse had taken point and was waving something in the face of the local Guildmaster.

The goliath had nodded at her confirmation regarding the two earlier arrivals having something to do with this group, but only by the point he took the symbol into his own hands did his expression truly change. "One of the elite, I see. Your name was... well, it is not your name, but you are known as Scrapmouse, wasn't that it?" the man mused, handing the small emblem back to the gnome and brushing something away from under his nose with his fist. All the guildmasters tried to remember the elite symbols and who they stood for, but the important thing was their material. That was what told that they were indeed gentlepersons of great skill.

On request for his name, the Guildmaster shook his head. "It is not of much importance. I am just a Guildmaster here. I have not sought to better myself like my people, and so I do not have the right to a traditional name. I have also seen getting a new one to be much more of a bother than it is of value", he explained, Marcus's face quickly adopting the expression of surprise.

Another man that had chosen to abandon the traditional heritage of his people? He could not say that he knew how goliaths traditionally behaved, but it appeared this one was disowned. "So... Guildmaster", he began to request, but the large man was quick to wave his hand to dismiss the rest of it.

"These two hasty gentlemen have already told me. You seek information about where you can get clothes to endure the weather, and once you are done with that more information about the giants and the dragon. There is not much I can tell about the latter that you might not already know, but I will help you where I can. You seem capable enough to perhaps even return." The attitude the man exhibited had made almost a complete one-eighty as he had seen how an already renowned healer was in a group with not only an elite adventurer, but a Hammer of Grimjaws just as well.

"So let us begin with the clothes. Given many of the people that make it here already have their own, the only group that remains to whom they need to be sold to locals after wear and tear, or more prominently adventurers arriving through unusual means. We more than likely stock what you need. The question is, however, whether you want them to be tailored coats or more akin to heavy travelling cloaks? We have found that the people in who value their mobility prefer the cloaks, but they are not quite as warm as the coats. And of course, fitting a full plate mail under a coat would be quite the feat..."

Once that business would be concluded however, the Guildmaster would ask everyone to gather around one of the tables. He would just need to fetch something from his archives. Once everyone was settled, the man would return, now for the first time showing himself also from the waist down. His entire right leg had been replaced with a solid wooden carved counterpart, and his every step clacked against the floor.

A few scrolls were laid on the table, recorded from earlier adventurers for posterity was what he would tell before starting to turn away again. "My memory is not perfect, so it might be for the best for you to gather that information on your own from these records. They are the best we can offer." With that, he nodded and began clacking his way back behind the counter.


@JBRam2002@Lurking Krog@Guardian Angel Haruki@The Grey Dust

James frowned at Kethan's comment. It has been some time since I have heard this song let alone played it. Please forgive my poor performance and poor memory."

Scrapemouse and the others arrived shortly after the small discussion with Kethan. Her immediate discussion with Guildmaster, and the goliath's appraisal of the rest of the party, seemed to earn his approval. The matter of him having a peg leg and only the name of Guildmaster seemed odd to James. However that could just simply be the culture of this area and goliaths in general.

"Thank you Guildmaster, I will take a cloak please." James put the lute to the side, set down five gold for the Guildmaster, and began to look over the scrolls. Some of the scrolls seemed more worn than others, some was written rather quickly, some seemed like mad ramblings. Time would probably allow for piecing this information together, and maybe a little help from the smiling lady.

"If no one objects I'll be reading through some of these." He began reading through one of the scrolls trying to glean the information that was stored within.

Janine Fawkes
Scrapmouse

Scrapmouse grinned wide as the Guildmaster recognized her. She answered his musing question about her identity with a "That's right buddy!" Before she, or Marcus, could ask as to what they wanted to know, the Guildmaster stopped them and already told them that Kethan and James already asked.

Thanks to her, the Guildmaster seemed to be willing to give them information. After parting with five gold pieces for a cloak, she immediately got work studying the scrolls laid out on the table, answering James, "Let me help ya out there, Twinkle Toes,". She easily read the chicken scratch as though they were her own chicken scratch. It takes a mad mind to understand another mad mind. ...What? That's not how it works?

As Scrapmouse read through the scrolls, her fellow party members could hear her mumble, "Uh huh...Oh...Hmm..."

She then snapped her fingers at her friends, and called "OK! Looks like we've got one hella of a fight coming up,"

She then looked to her friends and she asked "Anyone wanna take a guess as to what Hraesvalgar, the giant who should be standing at the end of the world, what this super giant's weakness is? Ah, drum roll please!"

After receiving a drum roll (or silence. Depending on who wants to give the drum roll), Scrapmouse answers, "None!"

She then raises a finger, "Ah But! There is an old song in here that might hold the key to the puzzle on how to beat the super giant that now all of the giants are following!"

She then looks to Kethan and Marcus, "Gramps! Big Guy! You two look like the poetic sorts! Think ya can figure out the weakness from the song? In the meantime, Twinkle Toes and I can start forming a strategy on how to off the Dragon first and then deal with the giants!"

---

Marcus and Kethan, who had previously been mostly holding on what had been asked of them to hold and organising scrolls in piles arranged by subject (respectively) soon found themselves requested to do something quite different. They were handed one of the scrolls that had definitely stuck out from the rest, a song about Hraesvelgr's banishment. The half-orc could not help but raise an eyebrow at the insinuation that "the big guy", that being him, would be all that versed in the art of song, or even remotely interested in such a thing, but as he and Kethan began looking over the words to it, the intention of the gnome began to show in a new light.

It was not the song that would be of interest to them. It was how it referenced several divine planes and entities, to Kethan's ill luck less so from Ioun's domain as they had to do with the more war-like of gods, as well as the Triad. Especially the Triad, actually. Like most giants... but there was the fact that... indeed, the great eagle, that being the way the giant was referred to being beaten back by... where the mortal men fell, but a blade of a god would bring around the Ragnarok as the dying giant could call upon the might... Marcus hit his gauntleted fist against the table hard enough to have many items on it hop into the air and splinter wood from under the strike. He looked around, an apologetic expression on his face while the Guildmaster shook his head at him.

"The giant has no particular weakness, that is true. All was tested, but only gods would have the might to match a titan. Yet they could not, for it would have been an invitation of war", the paladin in service to Tyr explained, remembering bits and pieces of old references from different stanzas to supplement what was already in the song. "Long story short, champions. Mighty individuals received a blessing from the gods and were sent forward to do the deed. As our presence here to this day suggests..." he began wrapping his piece up with a grin on his face "they won. And as luck would have it, we are very much blessed ourselves."