March 13, 994 – 1:00 p.m.
Party Gold = 222,500 g.p.
As told my King Snurre Iron-Belly:
Until the past two months, everything had gone to plan. The lesser giants had served me well. Conquest and plunder had been easy. The response from the little ones had been weak.
The fall of Nosnra and the Hill Giant Steading was somewhat expected. Even so, the first significant defeat was noticeable. Then, in seemingly a short time, Thane Arnak stopped aiding the cause and Jarl Grugnur’s demise and the bitter civil dispute within the Frost Giant ranks had severely weakened some very useful allies.
Even without these leaders, confidence still surged in my veins that with the power that still remained behind me, these would be the days that my people would remember as the Ascension.
I fully expected who had broken the weaker links to arrive. I had thought of it often. How great a story it would be to strike these maggots down in my own hall. To burn them where they stood.
The fight began, my confidence was complete. I and my guard would squash these pests.
To my great surprise, this took an unexpected turn. First, my enemy did not come forward to challenge me in my Great Hall. Instead these puny ones stood at the far end of the hall using electricity to weaken my fire giants. Not only this, but the heat of the hall and from the weapons of my fire giant kin, the azers and my pets Smoke and Scorch did not seem to have much impact on them.
Their priest destroyed many of the young fire giants and the smaller hell hounds. The female elf wizard used his wrongly held power to keep me, His Majesty Himself stuck to a spot that was too far to give inspiration to my men and too far to throw my net on the enemy.
To a man, all of my guards and even those Isent Scorch to bring to fight were destroyed by the enemy. My two pets were destroyed before my eyes!
The smallest of the small was able to dark, tumble and jump around while dealing vicious blows to his kin. The sword mage teleported and kept many of my men at bay, including the dark elf for a time. Their commander, called Coach by the sword mage, kept control of the battlefield only because I, King Snurre, could not approach what had mistakenly become the battlefield. How infuriating it all was. How awful, unexpected, and demoralizing. Having to retreat from such weaklings. This was shameful. The only way to offset this embarrassment would be to bring these intruders their complete destruction.
There is still a way back to power. Every glorious tale has it’s moment of despair. This must be it.
But first, following the dark elf through the secret door is needed to turn to welcome these uninvited guests to what they deserve!
Next time…in “hot pursuit” of King Snurre Iron-Belly
March 13, 994 – 1:15 p.m.
Party Gold = 222,500 g.p.