Into the Woods

Atgørvimaðr rose and placed his helmet on his head once more. He had only just arrived to the city and thus was still packed for travel. As he followed the others who would join the hunt outside he was once again ducking carefully once more under each threshold as to not bump his head or knock down something frail. With that obstacle course done as he stood outside he stretched to his full length, easily towering head and shoulders over the others. On the way out he was returned his backpack and warmaul by the same servant that took it upon his entry.

Outside was the woman Mira, the scout. A woman who could live in the wilds and scout out giants. It seemed that among the soft southerners there were still some of worth. He nodded to her.
"Ja. Let us go."
He looked down upon the others (except for the Goliath woman, who could look him in the eye).
"On our journey, I would hear of your deeds so I know who I have at my side in battle. I would not have us be strangers. That brings ill luck for a group who would draw blood together."

Scar who is only 5' tall says to Mira, Now seems to be the right time. There are days for chatter.

It was a common practice in the Mountain's Tumult as well, sharing tales of campaigns past. Younglings learned how we operated and veterans had a chance to remind the younglings how they'd come to survive so long. Sunosha says, nodding towards Atgørvimaðr. I would be honored to hear your deeds, and to tell you of mine. she finished, adopting much of the patter of speaking she grew up with among the her tribe of mountainfolk.

"I am but a humble bushi, a soldier from far-off Kara-Tur. I came westward out of a sense of curiosity for your cultures."

Zagreus looked at the large man. Though he was considered tall among many people, there was still a considerable difference between him and the Nordic man and the wizard. He instantly felt displeased as he saw in Atgørvimaðr a man who is extremely confident with his own way of life and doing things. As Zagreus was exactly the same, he felt like any overly self-confident man feels when he meets another: he started to become irritated by Atgørvimaðr and initiated a little process of competition. "Well, actions speak louder than words. You’ll get to know the others more than you’d like once we start fighting, don’t worry." he adresses the tall man.

By sounds the giants may have met their match. Seems we have a good force to take them on. Although shorter Scar does have a few weapons upon him, he lacks in the point of any armor. Not even a cheap set of leather. But then his animalistic aura might cover the lack of armor.

I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, all of you.

My full name is Gale O'Dinn Phaulkon. Yes that Phaulkon, my mother is a noblewoman-turned-demigod and Chosen of Mielikki named Jeryth Phaulkon. Our estate is the headquarters of the Emerald Enclave in Waterdeep. As my mother is .... physically challenged, and my father is in the wind, I have been seeing to the day-to-day business.

But I can't live in my parents shadow, I am more than just her son. I to wield the power of nature and stars guide me, I'm going to make sure that we solve this problem and return to bask in the glory!

When they reach the clearing, Sunosha takes a bit of time in spellcasting, giving them a comfortable dome to sleep under for the night.

True to his word Atgørvimaðr Jötnarblóð regaled his tales of glory whilst traveling and with them his wordly views became clear to all. The Uthgardt of the Frozen North were a hardy barbarian people who mistrusted outside influence and especially magic outside of what their shamans could summon. Their conflict with the giants had been ongoing for generations. What once started as a simple conflict for the sparse resources of the North had evolved into a deep-rooted hatred. The Sky Pony tribe could ride pegasi into battle against the giants and were able to effectively take them down out in the open, while the giants raw strength allowed for direct raids against their settlements. Many of Atgørvimaðr's tales started with either side striking at the other, after which grave crimes were committed by the giants that had to be answered in blood (although the apt listener got the impression the Uthgardt weren't perfectly innocent in this regard either). Either way the tale would continue with Atgørvimaðr hunting the giants and regaling how the battle against them went in detail. And even though he was a large man (he admitted to having giant blood in his veins, much to his shame) it sounded almost as if he could match the giants blow for blow, clearly a wild exaggeration. Still, his tales were rousing even if they lacked much variety or imagination.

When Sunosha used her magic he looked at the summoning warily. His distrust was still fresh, so he poked the magical hut with his warmaul and grumbled at its presence. He looked quite intent on sleeping outside rather then trust such an unnatural thing... Some might consider this a blessing considering his size and... pungent body odor.

Scar is used to being in the wilds and unpacks his tent. He eventually makes himself comfy on his bedroll. Unless someone has betters, Scar will being having rations to eat. Since we are not terribly close, Scar will get out his lute play some. He enters a thought, I wonder who/what is pushing these giants. Just something that usually is happening.

Sunosha laughed a bit as Atgørvimaðr poked the magical dome. You remind me very much of a sergeant I used to have. Othgar Fireanvil. Brute of a dwarf, and fists as hard as warhammers. He never trusted any of us spellcasters either. Until one of them rained fire down on an enemy blockade. Still didn't trust us then, but at least always brought good meat to roast in the aftermath! she said, launching into the tale of how the Mountain's Tumult had been contracted to help defend against an incursion against a trade town. When the marauding goblinoids had blockaded the routes in and out of the city to try starving them out, a handful of the warmages had been escorted out under cover of an unnatural fog summoning to rain hellfire and destruction on the weakest part of the blockade, effectively breaking the line and letting the infantry troops a chance to pin the goblinoids between the defenders and a rear-attack.

It was a thrilling fight, and one that took some masterful coordination with a member of the druidic orders we had on hand. Those damnable hobgoblin captains of theirs are just devils to fight against. she finished, shaking her head in memory.

Zagreus realizes the dome and appreciates the workmanship of the spell. However, he does not join the group in their chat as he rarely conflicts with himselfs and he has already claimed that he won't be explaining himself by words. He prefers actions. He finds a spot relatively far to the others and sits down, meditating and praying to his god Kord. He spends the rest of the night like that if he's not asleep or keeping watch.

Gale joins Sunosha in her dome.
What druidic order was that? That you had on hand?
Oh, can you make this dome seethrough? I like looking at the stars... just as much as I enjoy the wind.

They called themselves the Order of the Braided Bough, I think it was. A whole brood of them that sought protection through action, rather than retiring to their groves, apparently. she said, relaxing against her pack, looking up at the stars.

"Goblins eh? A nasty and rotten plague. A good riddance!" Atgørvimaðr congratulated Sunosha on her tale.
"Eh? I prefer ale, but to each his own! BWAHAHAHAAH!" the big man bellowed with mirth.

Asa settles beneath the dome and assumes a strange pose; each leg crossed over the other. It looks terribly uncomfortable, but she seems hardly bothered. She rests her hands on her knees and closes her eyes. It is impossible to tell if she is asleep or not, so regular is her breathing.

"Atgørvimaðr Jötnarblóð dares!" The Uthgardt returned the challenge with his own mighty voice.
"Who speaks and claims this wood their own!?"