DM The Gathering Storm
DM The summer sun beats down upon Dragonfyre, as the farmers tend to their fields. This region has recovered more quickly from the harsh winter and wet spring than most, aided in no little part by fae agreements and allies.
DM Just after the summer solstice, a dark cloud gathers over the town, extending across the entire sky and blotting out the sun. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles in the distance. The rains come, hard torrential downpours that feel more like falling in a pond than actual precipitation. And the cloud grows darker by the hour.
Julian In little doubt of what this portends, Julian orders the Great Hall, fitted now with huge new doors of cedar bound with iron and sized to receive a giant among giants, prepared for company.
DM After three hours of the storm, four flashes of violet lightning strike the ground outside the Dyrr. When the thunder, loud enough to roll wagons, subsides, four armed and armored giants rise in the wake of the discharge.
Julian Silver-gilt men-at-arms of the lords’ household wait in formation for these guests to approach, their steeds left in their stables and more than one stall smashed to splinters by a spooked warhorse.
DM “Who greets the Uvar?” booms forth from the lead warrior.
Kryss Kryss looks to Julian across the square and wipes his hands on an apron before taking it off. 20 more minutes and he would have been finished with that dagger.
Julian Julian’s dire steed on the other hand has the nerves to stand the storm, and he rides a span in front of his men. “Julian of Brindinford bids you welcome.” He looks to Kryss on his left to introduce himself.
Kryss He tosses the apron in a bin and strides out to stand beside Julian. “And Kryss. We’ve been expecting you.” he bows at the waist.
Julian “And who among the Uvar grace our town?”
Julian The knight’s voice is small in comparison, but clear.
DM “Tribune Ionos accepts your welcome. My men, Fulgur and Tonitrous. And the Princess Elektra, daughter of Paramount Krombaalt.” The fourth giant takes off her helm, revealing a lovely storm giantess.
Kryss Kryss gestures to the halfling and small child watching the affair from the top step of the great hall and well behind Julian’s soldiers. “My daughter, Emily. And our butler Tom Bing. Please if you need anything during your stay ask that Master Bing see to it.”
Julian “Tribune Ionos, Fulgur, Tonitrous, and princess Elektra, bright lady of whom we have heard tell, please accept the hospitality of our halls.” The high roofs of the Great House loom against the stormclouds on the hillside above the square.
DM “Thank you, Julian of Brindinford.” Elektra’s voice sounds like rainfall, pattering on the rooftop when one is warm in one’s bed on a lazy morning.
DM “It was said that you had words to give unto the Uvar. Are these secret words, to be kept from your people, or those that can be stated in the open?” Tribune Ionos asks.
DM (Clearly of the Kryss school of diplomacy)
Julian “It is no secret I would speak of war, that I and my folk wage but from which the Uvar have stood aloof. I would learn how you’ve taken the news of this past winter.”
Julian “But let’s go to our hall, we have prepared for guests.”
DM “News of the Lady Orage’s disgraceful reception in the Halls of the Rift? News of tiny giant slayers? Yes, let us go to your Hall and speak of the news of this past winter.” The tribune’s voice, in contrast to the princess’s, booms like thunder, highlighted by electrical flashes across his eyes.
Julian The Silver Swords escort their visitors to the Great Hall, where the giant doors swing open to reveal a raised center table, lifted up on rows of barrels, and loaded down under a giant roast dire boar – Lilac’s own quarry.
DM The two lesser Uvar’s stomachs rumble in anticipation.
Julian Julian feasts their guests as generously as tiny people can feast giants.
DM Lilac has thoughtfully provided whole loaves of bread, a bushel of tomatoes and another of early heads of lettuce, allowing the company to make massive (for humans) sandwiches of the meal.
Julian Over the meal – there are actually seats and a smaller table for the three lords and their ladies placed directly on the far end of the greater tabletop, so that they can speak at a rough level rather than shout up overhead – Julian hears what the Uvar have to say.
DM While the two soldiers eat heartily, Elektra merely snacks and takes stock of the Hall. The Tribune has several questions. First, and foremost: “What precisely occurred between your party and the Lady Orage?"
Kryss “We found her imprisoned and we released her,” Kryss answers.
DM “Why? Did you free all of Jarl Grugnur’s prisoners?”
Kryss “We make it a rule to free all of the young ladies that we find chained in a cave behind a boulder. Its standard policy.”
Kryss “That said, the Lady Orange charmed us like few others. We invited her to stay until we defeated Grugnur or allow us to escort her, but she refused.”
DM “Why would she refuse?”
Julian “Just as my lord says.” The Hall is more splendidly festooned than in days past, including not a few giant-size trophies: weapons and shields of defeated frost giants form huge decorations. “When we first came to the Rift, we had been forewarned by heaven’s counsel of a noble lady held prisoner, though we did not know who or why until we heard the same name on the lips of the frost giants, and following the trail of her name we found her imprisoned.”
DM “Heaven’s councils?” the tribune’s brow furrows. “What councils are these?”
Julian “That you must ask my lord Shael when he joins us, since the message came to him. But as for why not, has she not told you herself?”
DM “Allow me to speak plainly. I do not trust that your freeing her was any more than a trick, taking advantage of her lesser Skye intellect, in order to infiltrate the Uvar and bring us down from within. As such, her perception of the events is highly suspect.”
DM Elektra cuts in. “Allow me to speak plainly too, Julian of Brindinford. There are no thanks great enough for me to express how grateful I am that you have set my beloved free. Trick or not, her imprisonment was certainly not a trick.”
Kryss Kryss is halfway out of his seat and sit back down at Elektra’s words. “I had thought it a political statement.”
Kryss “I’m not certain how insulted I should feel right now.”
DM “I am responsible for the safety of my people, and if you imagine I’m going to a potential threat into my Paramount’s city without assuring myself of facts to the contrary, the only surprise is that word of your brilliant and original art or poetry has not traveled to our halls.”
Julian “Thank you, bright lady! And tribune – and my lord – caution is the mark of a seasoned soldier. To answer your question fully, she did not feel it would be right for her to reveal the paths to your halls, so instead we gave her gifts to see her safely on her way.”
DM “Well, at least she had the sense of that. The paths to the Uvar should never be given to Man. Only trouble can come of it.”
DM “My father wishes to see them, Tribune, and I do not think you question his will.”
Kryss “Your father wants to see us… where?” Kryss asks.
DM Elektra gives the tribune a dry look. “In our city.”
DM “Krommhalt invites Julian of Brindinford, and Kryss of Dragonfyre into its walls for a day.”
Julian “Thank you, princess. I will accept. And tribune, know that I have no hidden purpose or any dishonorable aim in so doing. If you like it better, I will come unarmed.”
Kryss Kryss’ jaw drops and he looks at Julian. “We’re going to go unarmed?”
Julian Julian shrugs and looks to see how the offer is received.
DM Elektra laughs at Julian. “We are not human, Julian of Brindinford. We are not superstitious folk who shock and awe when one…” she takes a look around the Hall, considers the company, and does not finish the sentence. “You do not need to leave your sword, although you may not wish to stride about in full armor. If we wished you disarmed, we would have to cut off your head.”
Kryss “Well I’m excited to go just for the fun company.”
Julian “Ah, it is true that a tongue can make a sharper weapon than a sword, but I would not part with my head as lightly. All right, then, Princess, so be it.”
DM “While all who would come to Krommhalt for the first time must climb the Mount, would you prefer to ride or fly to the base of that sacred summit?” Tribune Ionos asks.
Julian “Ride.” Julian answers for himself.
Kryss Kryss shrugs, “Ill ride as well.”
DM “And when will you be ready to ride for Krommhalt? Your steeds will arrive that morning, and know the way.”
Kryss “I need about 20 minutes to finish something,” Kryss says.
DM The tribune gives him an odd look.
Kryss “I’m just saying that I’m ready to go right away.”
Julian “Let it be this Sunday, then. I am slower.”
DM Elektra nods, and the tribune assures them their steeds will be ready.
Julian Julian entertains their guests for as long as they choose to stay, and asks whether they should know anything else before setting out for Krommhalt.
DM “For many of the Uvar, you will be the first humans they have seen in fifty years, or even their lifetime. They may wish to play games with you, to test and to compete with you. Do so if you wish, or abstain if that is your wish instead. But know that the respect the city holds for you will be of great interest to the Paramount.”
Julian “Thank you. I will not forget it.”
Julian Preparations are made and Julian rises before dawn on the appointed day.
DM The giants leave later that day, transforming into pure bolts of lightning that leap up into the clouds. A chariot, drawn by two rocs, descends to allow Elektra to step upon, and whisks her upwards away. She waves to Kryss and Julian before the thunderhead swallows her up.
DM The rains continue for another six hours before the clouds finally break, and the sun shines through upon the town.
DM Julian, rising before dawn on the appointed day, is greeted by a steed of lightning and power. The thunderhorse shakes the ground as it gallops up on him.
Julian It is not often Julian sees a horse to overmatch Hengist, but this seems such a one. When Kryss is ready, he mounts eagerly.
DM The thunderhorse gallops off at an incredible pace. He is soon beyond the borders of Brindinford, then those of Storgard as well. The steed runs through the mountains as though they were flat plains, never once missing a step.
DM Perhaps days later, the thunderhorse comes to a halt before dissipating into a ball of lightning. They are at the base of a mountain so tall that its summit is hidden beyond the clouds.
DM The Uvar live atop a mountain stronghold, where the air is thin and the clouds close enough to touch, even if one has but the height of a man. Their leaders are known as the paramounts, who are guarded by the mighty imperators. The Uvar are not as the Hrimthurs and Haugjot, clumsy raiders that plague mankind with suffering. They are rulers, lords, kings by decree of the Ordning. The city of Krommhalt is a testament to this power, a refuge for þursar and jötnar alike.
DM The Lords of Dragonfyre make their way up the mountain, past rune after guardian rune. Some of these runes, had they been uninvited, would obscure their path, making them think they were in an uninhabited wilderness. Some would implant suggestions in their mind, turning them aside from their destination. Some would banish them to the depths of Hell. Areas of the path suppress magic, keeping those who would fly or teleport from quickly accessing the city, as well as foiling those whose farsight and divination might reveal the route. These runes are not the work of the verbeeg runesmiths either, but primal engravings of the Uvar themselves, the first giant runecasters, to whom Annam revealed the secrets in time immemorial.
DM Finally, after a climb that felt twice as long as the ride, they arrive at the gates of Krommhalt. Made from pure bolts of blue lightning, framed in mithril, they swing wide, opening for their tiny guests. A city of giants lies before them.
Julian Julian, dressed not in his customary armor but in dark, fine elf-woven silk embroidered in silver, strides through the gates to gaze on Krommholt.
DM Storm giants stride the titanic streets, heading to and fro about the enormous city. Some of them head to gargantuan temples, where their gods are properly worshiped. The sound of forges in one quarter of the city rings out…somewhat familiar, and somewhat not, strange smells and sensations joining the unique noises that echo forth from the cyclops run businesses.
Here too, are firbolg, hulking giantkin that dwarf ogres, standing twelve feet tall. Unarmored and unshielded, they move like tiny barbarians in the roads and alleys of Krommhalt.
The voadkyn are elven appearing giants, around the height but not build of ogres. Here and there a member of this mysterious race can be spotted in the streets.
Most numerous after the Uvar themselves however, are the Skye. The haughty cloud giants, conduct themselves in two separate manners…as would-be equals to the Uvar, and as absolute superiors to all others smaller than they.
DM The temples to the Dii Procellas gleam in the center of the mighty walled city. The sacred twelve gods of the Uvar are worshiped as a pantheon, similar to the Ordning’s own giant gods.
DM Griffons of massive size soar over the city streets, dwarfed only by the immense shadows of the rocs.
DM Herds of colos, aurochs and mastodons are tended by the giants, as are some even larger creatures. Indricotheres and the truly massive ychen bannog, standing forty feet at the shoulder, tower over even the giants themselves.
DM Cave bears are treated as small dogs, and mountain lions like kittens or rats, played with and allowed to roam freely, more a threat to furniture than life and limb.
DM The thunderhorses that the lords of Dragonfyre rode to the mountain base, despite being a half foot taller than their fae steeds, are essentially miniature ponies. Every so often, one is granted to a particularly worthy firbolg hero, but their electrical nature and “small” stature make them useless to the giants as steeds.
Kryss “You should see about incorporating a few of these into your breeding program, Julian,” Kryss says.
DM (We’ll leave the details to how to breed lightning monsters to mortal horses for later, True Believers.)
Julian “Maybe.” Julian agrees, and turns his feet towards the center of town.
DM They pass by what appears to be a training exercise, where young muscular giants wrestle, box and fling massive stones across a field. A watching firbolg is mistaken for a stone and flung hundreds of feet into the air.
Julian Julian pauses to watch.
DM Julian is not mistaken for a stone, he and Kryss together not being the size of the unfortunate firbolg.
Kryss “I bet you could hold your own,” Kryss prods. “You’re a better wrestler than I am.”
Julian “May be, but from sheer size, I don’t think I could hold much more than my own.”
Kryss “This city doesn’t look ruined…” Kryss mentions.
DM It definitely isn’t. This place, while not as populated, easily puts even Senet to shame. Soaring architecture, protective runes, well armored and armed soldier giants marching in the streets…Krommhalt is grand in every sense.
Kryss Kryss steers his mount closer to Julian’s and says quietly, “You shouldn’t be intimidated by any of this. You are a very capable warrior and a True God grants you his favor. You are also an excellent statesman with integrity.”
Julian “That’s good of you to say, Kryss. Thank you.”
Julian Julian watches the drills for several more minutes.
Julian “I think I might give one of those Skye boys a throw, if things went my way. But the Uvar are another thing. They are clever wrestlers as well as strong. I think the best I could aim for would be not to lose easily.”
Julian He watches a while longer before moving on.
Julian The lords turn towards the sound of smithwork.
DM Within one forge, they look upon a brawny storm giant, utilizing lightning rather than fire to heat the metal. Bolts arc off the metal, wolfram in this instance, and a heat easily ten times that of an actual dragonfire forge renders the metal soft enough that even a human apprentice could work it easily. The blade is then quenched in a cloud, which ought to be impossible based on Kryss’s expertise regarding the process. The cloud is too small to be cool enough to quench such a heat. The smith then thrusts the blade into a globe of lightning, heating and tempering it.
Kryss Kryss’ jaw drops. “Can we stay forever?”
Julian “Our invitation’s only for a day,” Julian laughs, “you had better make good use of your time.”
DM “Only here for a day? With those short legs, you won’t even be halfway through the city by nightfall.” The smith has noticed them and pauses in his work to address them. “Molniya Volcanavitch, Little Ones. The greatest smith in Krommhalt. What might I do for you today?”
Kryss Kryss scribbles the name in a fresh notebook. “I’m just in awe…” he says at a loss for words. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”
Kryss “I… I thought myself a master!”
DM “Well, I learned from a true master, although the technique is still…well, chaotic, to say the least. There are days where I long for the consistency of a fireforge. Still, when working with the true heavy metals, those that fire barely scores…one cannot deny the beauty of the bolt.”
Kryss “Your biggest problem is obviously keeping your lightning from cooking all the carbon out of your steel but I suppose with that size of material there’s more time to work with. I don’t understand the cloud though, it shouldn’t have enough water in it for a thorough quench.”
Kryss Kryss taps his chin and considers, “What if we rolled a copper tube and ran a current through that? The current heat a piece of stock almost instant and without sparks or flame you could track the color change.”
DM “If you work with steel, you can’t use the lightning bolt,” the giant explains. “Wolfram melts around the same temperature that iron boils away entirely, slightly higher. Adamant has an even higher temperature required. Simple electricity is not sufficient to heat the metal to the level required…you’d be better off using a regular forgefire.”
DM “As for the cloud, it is simple. It’s made from a combination of truewater and ancient white dragonblood. It’s far colder than it looks, and draws off the heat almost immediately.”
Kryss “I’m quite impressed. That’s an amazing process. Do you have any wares I might look at or are you special order only?”
DM “What would you be…paying in? I am not certain I have anything your size on the common shelves.”
Kryss "I’m not certain that I have anything to barter other than small jewels I’m afraid. Would that suffice?
DM “…hmm. I tend to prefer food, like fish, or vegetables, for my work…these little gems of yours, are they any good to eat? It might be a moot issue, if there is nothing small enough to purchase.”
DM Kryss takes a look around the shop, seeing items like food serving utensils as large as he is, some strange symbols roughly as big as a large shield hanging on chains, a plow blade that would take Julian’s entire stable to drag, and what appear to be stools sized for him, slightly high off the ground, with scooped seats. Rather than four legs, they have an elaborate single base of worked silver.
Kryss Kryss shakes his head slowly. “Julian. I think this is heaven.”
Julian “Well, go ahead,” now it’s the paladin’s turn to encourage his friend, “show her.”
Kryss Kryss tilts his head at Julian, trying to guess his meaning.
Julian “Your work.”
Kryss “Would you be interested in looking at a few things I’ve made?” Kryss asks.
DM “Certainly. Let me find my glasses…” the giant looks around for a pair of lenses to fit over his eyes, and holds out a gargantuan hand.
Kryss Kryss lays two items on the giant’s finger. Shatterspike, and Dara’s adamantine wedding ring. Both items have hidden details that Kryss suspects the giant might miss.
DM The giant blinks at the ring a minute before handing it back. “Very nice.” He looks over Shatterspike and promptly opens up the pommel cache. “This isn’t your work, not originally. It’s Durgeddin’s!” He sounds surprised.
Kryss “Durgeddin is a hero of mine. We actually recently excavated his ruins and I’ve adopted several of his methods.”
Kryss Kryss calls Shatterspike back to his hand with a casual gesture. Enroute back she seems to swirl in a relatively tiny courtesy that would have typically cleared a small room of orcs.
DM “Is that so? He never mentioned you…”
Kryss “I didn’t actually meet him. I just found this book that… you knew Durgeddin?!”
DM “Yes, he spent some time in the Sardians south of here, not that long ago. He was a bit of a traditionalist. Never liked using planar energies or much magic other than an occasional rune or two. I take it you don’t share the aversion.”
Kryss “I don’t, and I’m always looking for ways to improve my work.”
DM “Well, I might suggest you look into the true elements then. I assume you’ve utilized your dragonflame as part of your technique? Burns hotter than simple lit coals.”
Kryss “Yes, but I’m not familiar with the term ‘true element’ I’m afraid.”
DM “Hmm. I’m not sure how to explain it. Have you ever seen a fire or earth elemental? They come from a realm where their element is born. True element is rare even there, but still far more likely than finding it here in our realm.”
Kryss “And what would be the benefit to crafting, say, a crossbow from the true element of air?”
DM Molniya gives him a puzzled look. “I do not work overmuch as a bowyer. I confess I do not see how to ‘make a crossbow from air’ at all. I do not craft my works from these materials, I utilize them in the forging process.”
Julian Julian leaves Kryss to his adventures in smith-wonderland, after agreeing when and where to meet back up, and doubles back towards the wrestling arena.
Julian This time, he approaches the competitors.
DM “Oh, be careful, a man is underfoot,” calls out one giant in reproachful warning to the one who flung the firbolg.
Julian “Yes, a man called Julian of Brindinford.” Julian calls.
Julian “I wanted to see your play up close, since I can tell you’re very skilled, and since I’m counted a fair wrestler among my folk.”
DM “A man called Julie Brinford,” the helpful giant repeats for the giants. “He wrestles at the faire.”
DM “Do Men have faires?” asks one of the storm giants. “Julie sounds like a woman’s name” mentions another. “Is that a woman wrestler?”
Julian “Julian of Brindinford,” he repeats and this time there’s more than mortal power in his voice. The rest can go by, but names are important.
DM “Oh, Julian! Of Brindinford! …are you a woman, Julian? Our apologies if you are, but you do not look particularly womanly other than your hair and beard.”
Julian “I am a man, not a woman, but I take no offense since I know it must be hard to tell from up there.”
DM “A bit, a bit. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. So Julian the Man, you like to wrestle at the faire. We wrestle for sport, but there are times it can be a deadly affair. “
Julian “Even from far off I could tell you’re very good.”
DM “I am these giants’ trainer, it is true. Certainly not the best in all Krommhalt, but I can hold my own, without embarrassment.”
Julian “One need not be the very best to gain honor from one’s skills.” Julian agrees, turning to look over the trainee wrestlers.
DM “How do they wrestle at the Faires of Man?” asks one of the trainees.
Julian “I’ll show you if you’re willing, though I think I’ll have to grow my height. I have learned some tricks, but not many of them work if I can barely reach your knees.”
DM The trainee laughs a bit, but agrees. “You are right about that. We will wrestle when you are up to my waist then? Or my chest? I will be glad to see what they learn in the Faire.”
Julian Julian duly exchanges his elf-woven shirt for a plain, sturdy linen one. A Thing is done and the paladin grows to… not quite waist height, but within reach at least.
Julian He looks not-quite-as-far up at the giant. “Are you ready?”
DM The giant laughs. “That is a good trick. Come then, if you want to show me how it is done at the faire.”
Julian Julian falls into an aggressive, staggered stance and moves lightly in on his opponent, feinting several times to try to draw him into an incautious step. When the paladin picks his moment to come to grips, just as the trainee is shifting his weight, he darts in from the off-balance side and, seizing the giant’s treetrunk knee as it rises, throws his strength into a lift to overturn him.
DM The trainee giant is strong, but has not developed the level of skill Julian has. With the closer size afforded by the magic, along with the enhanced strength, Julian is the superior grappler. However, the giant has been paying attention to both his lessons and Julian’s movement. He brings his leg down, and tries to encircle Julian in his massive arms. The paladin ducks beneath the grab, but catches a rising knee to the chest that staggers him back. “You’re quick!”
Julian Julian oofs as the breath goes out of him. “And… you’re… very strong!” He gets his other arm around
that knee and pulls the giant off balance.
DM The giant goes down in a crash, but rolls on Julian, crushing a few ribs. He tries to break Julian’s hold, but the paladin’s grip is relentless.
Julian “One.” Julian gasps coming up on the far side of the giant’s roll and winding up behind his opponent’s back with one arm and one leg firmly in his grip.
Kryss Kryss strolls up with a 3 foot long key thrown over his shoulder while a keyring in the shape of a giant bottle opener drags behind him. “You got him Jules!” Kryss shouts, “Don’t let him spin under you!”
Kryss “Stick your thumb in his eye!”
DM The giant stiff arms Julian, and finds the smaller man as unyielding as iron.
DM A head butt is similarly accepted without flinching.
Julian “It’s a friendly m…” Julian doesn’t finish the sentence because he’s too busy in a complicated maneuver that ends with his legs around the giant’s waist and controlling neither arm but both legs.
Kryss “Watch his elbows!”
DM The other giants are cheering on their pal, but many of them are in awe of Julian…the little man (enlarge spell or no, he’s still shorter than a firbolg) is giving their friend a run for his money. The trainer looks on, a thoughtful look on his face.
Kryss “Get in his head, Julian!” Kryss suggests, wishing they had brought their banners.
Julian A herculean effort to maintain the pin saw every muscle in Julian’s body straining and standing out, but finally with an audible pop of something in his shoulder, the strength of storm giant legs wins out over his arms and breaks the hold.
DM The giant struggles out of Julian’s grasp and staggers back, gasping for air. “Hold, Julian of Brindinford, hold!”
Kryss “Hooray!” Kryss cheers.
Julian The paladin catches his breath. “
DM “You all saw it! I could not get a hold on him. He’s quick, like a well oiled lightning bolt!”
DM The giant rubs his thigh, where Julian’s final effort required him to strain his muscles, possibly to the point of pulling the mighty thew.
Julian Julian reaches to help his opponent up with his other arm, only belatedly considering that it’s probably a less practical gesture than usual.
DM The giant staggers to his feet, Julian’s leverage not overly helpful, but the giant keeps the arm, and hoists Julian up. As Julian begins to shrink back to normal size, the giant sets him on his shoulder. “What a performance!”
Kryss Kryss continues clapping and looks up at a lady storm giant sitting near him. “Mortals grow up so fast, don’t they?”
DM “More up the ass?” she looks angrily at him. “Get away from me, you little creep.”
Kryss Kryss shrugs and steps away, refusing to allow the lady giant to ruin his cheer. “Good job Julian!”
Julian “Thanks!” As his size, and voice, return to normal, Julian resumes using a cantrip to help his voice carry and avoid wacky mishearing hijinks. “What’s your name, friend?”
Julian He spots Kryss across the way and waves imperceptibly.
Kryss Kryss joins him with a pat on the back. “You’ve come a long way since you were a dirty gnome in a cage.”
DM “Quintus Mercius,” the winded storm giant informs him. “I am honored to have been your combatant.”
Julian “Likewise!” Julian can tell that Kryss is saying something but finds that it really is harder to hear from high up in the air. Especially when a storm giant is also talking.
Julian (Maybe that’s for the best, True Believers)