This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
        Thanks
        Jason Zavoda

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga Part LXXXI


        "Who is it?" Harold asked as the ranger pulled the rope up the
chute as quickly as he dared.
        "I can't tell, they are still too far down." Gytha replied.
        Harald didn't say anything, he just gave a grunt as he raised arm
length after arm length of rope.

        Ivo bumped across the wall, he used his feet to buffer himself
from the jarring contact, but there was nothing else he could do. It was a
long ride up and he had no more control over his ascent than a sack of
grain being hauled up to a storage loft.
        The gnomes of the Kron Hills had delved deep into the Oerth, and
in his youth Ivo had explored the shafts and the caverns that his kind
had found. It had been years since he had gone caving but he remembered
the old ways, at least of enough of them to be safely pulled up a rope,
and if he was old himself, he was tough as seasoned wood.
        There was a dim light showing above him, a small square that grew
and grew. He saw a huge form bent over the edge and recognized the ranger
Harald drawing up the rope.
        "Here take my hand!" Ivo called.
        The ranger held onto the rope with one hand then reached down and
grabbed hold of the gnome's arm. When he had a firm grip he let the line
drop and with both hands lifted Ivo up and over the wooden lip of the
garbage chute.
        "The Saint be praised." said Gytha. "I'm glad to see you safely
with us here Master Ivo."
        "I'm glad to be out of that pit." said Ivo. "What has been going
on, oh and Harold, I think this is yours." he handed the halfling the
pouch which had been dropped down the shaft.
        "It takes someone of proper stature to notice the finer things."
the halfling said, taking the empty pouch and slipping it back in his
belt.
        "Where are we?" asked Ivo.
        "In the giants kitchen of all places." said Harold.
        "So Telenstil was correct, that is good to know." Ivo looked
around. He saw the huge tables and shelves, noted the body of the orc on
the floor, the blood, now congealing around it and the bloody tracks
leading off to the north and around the corner. "This does not seem to be
a good place to stay, too exposed."
        "We still need to bring the others up." said Gytha. "Harald how is
it coming?"
        "I'm waiting for the signal, ah! There it is!" the ranger felt
the line grow taught and the two sharp pulls telling him to draw it up
again.
        "Where did the scouts go?" asked Ivo.
        "Around the corner, I think they have found another way back
down." said Harold.
        "And they have both run off?" Ivo could not imagine why.
        "I think it was that magic sword, at least for the first
one." said Harold. "The other went after his brother. Small loss."
        "I do not care for them, but we cannot abandon them either." said
Gytha.
        "At...the...very...least..." the ranger grunted out as he pulled
up the rope.
        "Save your breath." Harold told him. The thief felt better having
three of his trustworthy companions with him, but like Ivo felt too
exposed as well, standing in the middle of the giants kitchen.

        *                       *                       *

(To Be Continued)



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