With Old Warklegnaw, the forest giant in tow our party of heroes sets forth on the final miles before reaching Skull Gorge Bridge and the conversations naturally turn to how to destroy a stone bridge. “It is,” says Bry, “of dwarven design and made to stand the tests of time. Not something you can break with simple spells and rapiers.”
“It’s a good thing old Warklegnaw came forward,” replied Zaila, her eyes sparkling with clever intent "for his presence is an added, 'giant' step toward 'bridging' the 'gap' in our knowledge. Perhaps his strength and wisdom hold the 'stone' keys to unlocking the mysteries of this dwarven masterpiece.”
Pimzin Teabottle, with her mischievous grin, chimed in, "Zaila, my dear, your intellect shines so clear, but while giants may tower, they're not immune to deception's power. How 'bout an illusion, cleverly spun, to divert the defenders attention while we get the job done? With a bit of magic and a dash of wit they fall for it.”
Meanwhile, or Druid returns from scouting far ahead, he is all feathers and grace, in the form of an eagle and he has seen much. He attempts to share screeching before transforming back to his human form, clearing his throat.
"I have seen the bridge and it will be no small feat to destroy, for it guarded by a green dragon named Venomfang and a squad of hobgoblins. Hellhounds too lounge on either end of the bridge. It seems that word of our exploits have spread and they've called in reinforcements," squawked Nameroc before clearing his throat again and continuing.
"I saw further still to a place Jorr called the Cinder Hills where hundreds of camp fires burn. Tiny figures move about for even as some march, others prepare and strike camp before and after what I can only describe as a horde. Armor and shields sparkle in the light. Siege engines too and Giants near as tall as old Warklegnaw here." Nameroc pauses, "By Noon tomorrow the first columns will arrive at the Skull Gorge Bridge."
Thorne, leaning against a tree shifted his attention from the daunting news to the task at hand. "Well, we've got ourselves quite a predicament," he drawled,. "This illusion idea does have a certain charm. What kind of distraction do you reckon would delay a squad of Hobgoblins long enough for the rest of us to down a Dragon?"
Nameroc, new the conversation jumps right in. "We'll be fine. Make the it looks like the bridge is broken. Only a fool with get close enough to test it," and everyone walked on in silence still unsure, but comfortable that the seed of a plan had been begun to grow in the Bard's mind.
As Thorne cautiously scouted ahead in anticipation of Skull Gorge Bridge he happened onto a dappled green meadow and overheard an argument where a one man tied to a tree implores another , "Please, you have to untie me! I didn't ask for this! They brainwashed me, used me. I don't want any part of it anymore!"
As Thorne moves forward to join the conversation, it is the mysterious stranger Jerry O’Connell who replies, "You don't understand, Caleb. You're still under their influence."
Jerry apologizes for what seems like a strange situation, but shares that he's been tracking this fool, Caleb Teskerwill, from the Temple of Doom and nearly into the clearing ahead where stands a Dragon and Skull Gorge Bridge.
As Nameroc, the druid approaches and his sleeves fall away to reveal the unusual draconic tattoos etched on his forearms and hands, Caleb's eyes dart to meet Nameroc's "My lord, I am yours to command.” Caleb's demeanor changes then and he is compliant, his fear removed.
Zaila recognizes a powerful charm on Caleb, the father killer, for it is no ordinary charm that can transfer loyalty based on a tattoo and remain potent for the better part of a week. They decide to keep deal with Caleb later and after much discussion, wherein Jerry describes a place with followers in trance worshipping a charismatic figure the conversation returns to the task at hand, the bridge and Jerry throws in with the party.
Once at the bridge, it's is Warklegnaw who charges forth all anger and fury, a boulder in one hand and an obscene finger on the other. He scores a hit, whereupon Zaila begins her illusion and the bridge appears to break, 5 feet missing at first, but it continues to crumble as massive stones fall away.
Others join in now, engaging with the guard on the near side, while a dragon at once familiar and dreadful takes flight lining up for a deadly run. And for a moment it is like the Dawn Age (-30,000 DR) when giant and dragon-kind fought for supremacy in the lands, only this time Nameroc's eagle and Thorne's arrows whilst Zaila holds the illusion in place and along with Bry harries the Hobgoblin squad, providing crucial assistance forcing Venomfang to retreat.
And as the dragon turns, it is Pimzin Teabottle, the smallest of creatures that tolls the bell of doom pointing a finger of dolorous woe. Heroes and destinies come in many forms and sometimes we measure a hero by appearance rather than deed. Today, as the gong rang, echoing off the high gorge walls, Ms. Teabottle reminded us that it's not the size of the footprints on the path of destiny, but rather the path those footprints follow that makes a hero.
Venomfang deflates from his once angry form, losing control, crashing into the bridge and spiraling into the swift moving waters below. And not long after the Bugbear Sorcerer Koth and his squad of Hobgoblins follow, victims of arrow, boulders and the fear of heights that kept them unable to engage and unable to support the draconic might that guarded the bridge.