This is part 10 of my ongoing account of the sandbox campaign I am currently running. Updates are frequent, if irregular, and at the end of each post I talk about one or more subjects pertaining to the adventure but more broadly applicable to all campaigns. You can find the previous parts here.
Monty, Sigrid, Kat, and Daphne set out into the wilderness in search of Grothmagog, or Greypeak, supposed location of the dreaded Blackhide's camp. After a day or two of trekking, with early autumn snow falling around them and catching in the trees, they saw in the distance a mountain peak comprised mostly of sheer stone faces which rejected heavy snow accumulation. A grey peak amongst white ones. They headed toward it. The trees began to shake rhythmically with tremendous footsteps, more and more snow sloughing off the branches as the source drew nearer. Soon, they heard two voices speaking in slurred, booming words:
"Oy, Filk, 'ow much longer we gotta haul deeze little guys around for?"
"Buck up, Wallitz, it's ee-sen-shull for da war effort!" the second voice replied.
"But our back 'urtz!"
"Well dat's da price we'ze gotta pay in order not to get jumped by packs of greasy, disgusting 'umans, innit?"
Then there was a loud sniffing sound, and a third voice cut in, "Quiet, you two! I smell sommat wot I 'aven't smelt in years..."
"Wuzzat, boss?"
"Turnips!"
At that, Monty charged toward the sound of the voices and footsteps. As he broke out into the clearing made by a dry streambed, he saw a hunch-backed, two-headed giant brandishing twin flails and with a crude wooden howdah strapped to its back from which three goblin scouts peered over the trees, surveying the land. Two ogres marched at its side, and leading them all was a brutish, orcish-looking giant in splint mail armour.
"Grathwar!" shouted Monty. "You'll pay for what you did to my family!"
