It was a brisk late fall morning. Everyone is just traveling along looking forward to the next evening’s rest and warmth of fires. Duule, Vanessa, and Finkle are riding in one cart with Victor riding on a horse next to them discussing magical theories (Duule is almost asleep with boredom, and considering mischief). Tybalt, Erima, and Isis are in another being cozy.
They see the company of spellcasters round a corner when there is a loud piercing whistle. Before anyone can so much as jump from their carts, the ambush is sprung. There appears to be some kind of chaos within the ranks of soldiers behind the heroes, but of far more concern is the storm giants accosting the heroes themselves. Their attacks on Victor and Finkle miss narrowly, but the horses pulling the cart are not so lucky, one takes a fist in the side of the head, and the other in the middle of the back. The horses don’t even have a chance to cry out in fear or pain. Two more of the giants have accosted the formation of soldiers ahead of the heroes while the captain calls for them to hold their ground. And even two more have gone for the spellcasters. If that weren’t enough, there appears a cadre of ghouls following the giants out of the woods on either side of the roadway. Well at least Duule won’t be bored anymore.