# Against the Goblinoids (Updated 9/22)



## Desdichado (Sep 9, 2003)

OK, here's some quick background.  We were sorta gearing up for a Star Wars game, but one guy didn't show, and we hadn't gamed in so long we wanted to do _something._  We decided to play a fantasy game -- pretty much core D&D rules -- because we know them better and could wing something much easier.  Me and shadowlight rolled off to see who was going to DM first (he got it -- I'm next) then we all threw some characters together and started right away with an impromptu game.  The house rules were that we rotate DMs, you essentially don't prepare anything other than a few randomly generated NPCs ahead of time, and everyone brings a little bit of setting development with them every time we play.  We also made a tweak or two to the classes -- my fighter has Wilderness Lore as a class skill, for instance, and we handwaved away a prereq or two for some feats that we thought would be fun to play with.  We decided that although we'd make an attempt to run XP more or less as per the rules, we'd also arbitrarily level up after each session regardless of what the XP did.  

For the setting itself, we did a really bare bones start -- we had a map that had an uncharted wasteland of dead trees and dust taking up the western end of the map.  This land was called Abbis, and is known to be the homeland of various goblinoid peoples and nations.  A north-south mountain range splits the  map in two, and goblinoids from Abbis are known from time to time to pour through the Blood Pass in an attempt to subjugate the more bountiful lands on the eastern side.  These lands comprise the mostly human kingdom of Inistaad (or, Inista'äd as we jokingly dubbed it) and an unnamed "elf forest" that abutts the mountain range.  The city of Liska is a treetop city a few days on foot from the mountain range that has a mixed population.  Liska has a "Swiss style" militia -- all able-bodied citizens are expected to take tours of duty patrolling the surrounding area six times a year for about a week's time.  The three initial characters were about to start a patrol together at the beginning of the game, a week in the woods on a route that would take them through various locations between Liska and the Blood Pass.  There hadn't been any goblinoid activity in the area for many years, and the patrols, while still maintained, were not taken terribly seriously anymore.

We begin play with my character Baenn -- a human fighter (played by me) who uses a greatsword and is at home in the woods, Cyrus "Not Black" a human sorceror played by shadowlight, and Amallind, a human ranger played by Mrs. shadowlight.  Because of the nature of the game, we didn't really flesh these guys out to start with, but we're working on that even as we speak.  We initially proposed the game as a kind of stop-gap thing; something to do when we all really wanted to game and our whole group wasn't yet available.  However, we had so much fun with it that we decided to run with it for a while.  I don't know how long we'll play it, as we do all have other games in the backs of our minds to run (including Star Wars, Mutants & Masterminds, a homebrew fantasy game, Arcana Unearthed, GURPS, etc.) but I figger "what they hey, it's fun right now."

I also took very good notes this session, so the report will be fairly accurate.  However, I'm not writing this report to be a game session log, it's a _story_ first and foremost, _based on_ the session, but not slavishly.  For one thing, I probably won't have such detailed logs in the future, and for another thing, I didn't take any real notes on the dialogue anyway.


----------



## fenzer (Sep 9, 2003)

Wow, first one in the theater.  I guess that means I get the best seat in the house.   

Sounds fun Josh.  I'm in my seat, coke and popcorn at the ready.  Let's do this thing.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 10, 2003)

Unfortunately, I left the first installment half finished on my computer at work!  I won't be able to finish it tonight without looking to see exactly where I left off.  But, I anticipate having an update tomorrow.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 10, 2003)

Two days into the forest on their tour of duty, Baenn, Cyrus and Amallind set up camp.  Cyrus and Baenn have little "pup tents" while Amallind's is a bit larger.  "I need more room for my things," she says, finishing her unpacking while Baenn and Cyrus start to build a firepit, their tents having already been completed.  They turn and roll their eyes at each other.  "Of course, Amallind, whatever you say."

The trip has been enjoyable so far; the weather has been warm but not too hot yet (it's early May) and the forest is, as usual, beautiful and calming.  Both Amallind and Baenn have been able to bring down the occasional bit of small game, so they've not had to live entirely off of their MREs.  The camp for tonight is in a clearing surrounded by darker fir and pine trees; the clearing itself a soft bed of reddish and brownish fallen needles.  Later, as the fire is burning cheerily and roasting a brace of squirrels to supplement the MREs, Baenn lays against his bedroll playing softly (and poorly) on a small wooden flute.

"I'm glad we get the chance to do these kinds of things," Amallind says.  "It's great to get out of the city."

"Won't be so great if we run into a patrol of goblins now, will it?"  Everyone laughs.  Hardly anyone alive (amongst the humans anyway) in the city has ever seen a live goblin.  "Still, we better be a bit cautious; there's bears and the like around.  Should we set a watch now that we're officially on the first leg of our patrol?"  Amallind agrees to take the first watch, and Baenn the last one, leaving Cyrus to split his sleep in two _(his player was the DM -- he didn't get a chance to argue much anyway.)_  The boys gradually roll over and sleep as darkness falls and the fire burns down to ashes.

About an hour into the watch, Amallind hears a rustling in the bushes.  She quietly wakes the boys up, who groggily reach for their weapons and scratch themselves into some semblance of wakefulness.  A small rabbit comes out of the bushes.  "Rabbits!  At night?"  Amallind says.  She's all set to investigate, but Baenn snorts and falls back asleep before she can.

The next morning is cool and misty -- Cyrus builds the fire back up and tries to make the MREs as palatable as possible.  He does have some skill in the culinary arts, but this feat is completely beyond even his talents, unfortunately.  Baenn sits on a log pulled up near the fire disconsolately munching on a hardtack biscuit until he finally snaps into a semblance of wakefullness.

After breakfast, the group takes off again, Amallind in front to blaze the trail and Baenn to bring up the rear-guard.  He stays a little bit behind, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of disturbance.  In the afternoon, Amallind hears another rustling, and she holds up her hand for the group to stop and remain silent.  Suddenly a large elk pushes through the brush in front of them.  They all look at each other for just a few moments, then go their separate ways.

Later that night, Amallind again hears some rustling in the underbrush, but this time she hears some stealthy voices approaching.  She wakes the boys again, and starts trying to put out the smoldering embers of the fire.  Baenn doesn't think it likely this is a threat.  "Leave it to the women!" he says.  "Everyone knows you're supposed to put out campfires by peeing on them!"  Amallind scowls at him, then squats over the fire, meeting the demands of modesty quite well in the resultant column of steam the comes from the coals.  _(OK, not really, but we did joke about it, at least...)_

"I'm not so sure about this," says Cyrus.  "Let's get out of sight until we know who it is."  Baenn laughs, but joins him in the trees, not even bothering to get behind anything; counting on the general darkness to keep him hidden.  Amallind on the other hand goes completely out of sight.

To Baenn's complete surprise, four goblins walk into the clearing, mumbling to each other.  They see Baenn and Cyrus and draw their weapons.  Baenn can already see where this is going, so he raises his greatsword and charges across the clearing, leaping over the remains of the fire pit and  chop one of the goblins nearly in half.  The other two turn to attack him, one with fists and feet and the other with a spear, but neither is capable of piercing the sturdy studded leather Baenn wears.  Amallind sends two arrows flying into the trees; one of them sticks shaking into a tree trunk near a goblin at least.  Cyrus hunkers down and protects himself with _mage armor._  Meanwhile, Baenn mauls two more goblins like a cuisinart, and the last one flies screaming through the trees.

Baenn and Amallind decide letting the goblin get away may not be a great idea, so they run after him.  Through their own huffing and puffing, and the slapping of branches and crunching of leaves, they can hear a few phrases in goblin coming back towards them  "... camp...  three humans...." then they hear chanting.

Breaking into the clearing, Baenn and Amallind can see the runaway goblin talking to another one who appears to be chanting.  Before he can do anything else, Baenn rushes up and gives the chanter a greatsword haircut that takes about 8 inches off the top of his head.  Seeing the grisly death of his companion, the runaway yelps in fright, dodges Amalling's quarterstaff and runs off into the woods again.  Baenn and Amallind try to give chase, but it is extremely dark and the goblin is able to make better time through the thick undergrowth, so they give up and head back to the goblin camp.  _Baenn scored a total of two critical hits just in this small combat, while unfortunately the other characters didn't score any damage at all.)_

There, a little bit of investigation shows that the chanter has a small bit of copper wire.  Figuring that this may be a spell component that Cyrus can identify, Amallind picks it up.  Baenn finds a brace of freshly killed rabbits.  Still bitter about losing sleep over a rabbit the night before, he gleefully collects them and walks back to his own camp with the intention of rebuilding the fire and having a second supper.  The only other item of note was a strange design painted on the clothes and shields of the goblins; it resembles some kind of bat-like creature, but the design is crude and difficult to interpret.  None of the three can make anything of it.

Back at their own camp, they find Cyrus has been busy.  He's gathered fifteen gold crowns, a few rusty daggers and brightly polished stones and a dusty spellbook.  He's also been able to stabilize and save the life of one of the goblins for questioning.  They wake him up.

"What are you doing here?" Amallind demands.  She's not gentle.  Her hatred of goblins is legendary amongst her friends.  

"You'll get nothing from me!" the goblin spits in its gutteral language (which all the PCs speak, by the way) but when Baenn puts the goblin in a headlock and threatens to snap his neck, his tune changes a bit _(natural 20 on the Intimidation roll!)_

Snivelling and crying now, the goblin begins to rant.  "You puny people, think you are safe and protected in the fertile lands, but Grendu will teach you!  Grendu will rain fire and blood on your entire people!"

"Bring it on, ya punk!" says Baenn, tightening his grip on the creatures neck.  "We'll take care of Grendu just like we took care of the rest of you here tonight."

"Acckkk.. gaaah...  Grendu... is not a mortal, you fool!  He lives with the gods!"  The goblin sneaks a knife from behind his back and tries to make a lunge at Amallind.  She swats him with her quarterstaff, putting him unconscious again.  After a few vicious kicks, she dumps him (and the other bodies) on the fire.

"Aawww, I was gonna cook on that!" Baenn whines.

"We may have problems," Cyrus says.  "This spellcasting one you killed?  Can you remember, was he whispering anything after he finished chanting?"  Baenn scratches his head (and probably his crotch as well) but Amallind nods her head.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he was.  What does that mean?"

"It means," Cyrus says slowly, "that he was sending a message, I think.  I doubt our presence here and the results of this attack will pass unnoticed."

"Great!" Baenn says.  "So now we have to pull up camp and move in the middle of the night!"


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 11, 2003)

The next morning, all three are up at the crack of dawn.  There is a half-hearted argument from Baenn to track the stupid rabbit that woke him up the other night.  A more serious argument is whether or not they should cut short their patrol and send a warning to Liska, or pursue the still-fresh trail of the goblin who fled last night.  Upon deciding to follow the goblin, they head off into the woods together.  The trail is relatively easy to follow, and the three pursue it in the same order as before, with Amallind in the front, Cyrus close behind her, and Baenn at good three or four meters behind him.  After a few hours of walking, Amallind holds up her hand; she has heard a rustle in the woods.  The other two look around them expectantly.

Suddenly an arrow flies through the trees in front of Baenn.  He sees the goblin archer a few feet away and mows him down with his greatsword.  As if by magic, the woods are suddenly filled with goblins -- it's a trap!  An unarmed warrior attacks Amallind, but she ducks out of the way, steps back and fires an arrow point-blank into his chest.  An arrow narrowly misses Cyrus, while another grazes Baenn's shoulder.  Cyrus gestures and chants; one of the attackers falls in sudden slumber.  A blue dart of magical force arcs through the air to slam into Baenn, who stumbles to his knees.  The source was a hobgoblin.  Baenn runs up and slashes at him, but heavy undergrowth turns his blow.  More arrows are in the air, Cyrus screams and slumps into the ferns, bleeding heavily from a shaft stuck in his guts.  Amallind grits her teeth, tears running down her cheeks as she runs to attack another goblin, but with the sound of more chanting, she falls asleep to the forest floor as well.

Baenn sees that he is alone, but has no intention of stopping.  Two arrows thunk into his torso, knocking him back, but with a scream of rage he swings his sword at the hobgoblin sorcerer again.  The creature merely raises an eyebrow in curiousity, stepping aside from the blow and sending another _magic missile_ blasting into Baenn.  He even smiles and bows appreciatively when Baenn props himself up on his sword and rises to a hunched standing position one more time, with hatred burning in his eyes.  Then two more arrows slam into his back and his world falls into blackness.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 11, 2003)

Waking from fitful and feverish dreams of strange creatures flapping blasphemous wings in the darkness, Baenn, Cyrus and Amallind find themselves alone, each in a small cell with a tiny window in the thick wooden door that looks out into a hallway.  They are all poorly tied with ropes that they can escape from relatively easily.  A bit of croaked shouting, and they discover easily enough that they are all in adjoining cells.  Someone else calls from the cell next to them as well.

"Bria Jens is my name," they hear a woman say.  "I'm a librarian from Liska."  Indeed, the three adventurers know her; she is well known for her habit of disappearing into the woods for several days at a time with a backpack full of books.  When they left Liska, she had been gone on one such trip for a few days already.  "I was camping in the woods, asleep in my tent.  Something woke me one night, and when I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by goblins.  I screamed, but they merely bound me and forced me to run through the woods until I arrived here.  I've been here for two days now.  They plan to kill us all -- make us sacrifices to some foul god of their's named Grendu....  I've never read of such a being before."

Cyrus stands up to the window, looking out into the dimly lit hallway.  "There's another room on this hallway too; it doesn't look like a cell; the door is solid.  Do you know what it is?"  Bria believes it to be no more than a storage room.  "Well, let's see what they store here, shall we?"  He chants softly for a minute, and then using the arcane _mage hand_ he opens the door.  

"What do you see?" asks an eager Amallind.  Cyrus's eyes are focused inside the door, and he is chanting again.  Then, each of the prisoners gives a muffled cheer -- through the air come floating a ring of keys that land right in Cyrus's lap.  Within seconds, he's opened all the cells and allowed all of them out.  Baenn and Cyrus are only barely patched together, with wounds that open as they move to leak more blood on their clothing.  The hallway they are in is short; besides the rows of doors, there is also a window on one end and a heavy door on the other.  Baenn limps over to the window; it is not an encouraging sight.  The window looks outside, and it appears as if they are in a squat building placed against a ridge that falls away from the window to a gray, dusty plain below.  Across this forbidding desolation, about thirty miles, they can see what must be the Blood Pass.  They are on the hostile side of the mountains.

Slightly better news is that all of their equipment seems to be in the storage rooms.  Cyrus downs a healing potion that he had the foresight to buy, while Amallind gives her last one to Baenn.  Cyrus is now skipping through the hallways; a picture of perfect health, while Baenn is grimacing noticably less, at least.

Through the door, the adventurers can hear some movement.  Amallind looks through the keyhole and sees a largish room, with two goblins in conversation in an alcove nearby.  "It's almost time for them to bring us our food," says Bria.  "They'll be preparing it as we speak."

Amallind gets a nasty smile on her face and her eyes glint.  "Well, now it's our turn to set the ambush then, isn't it?"  She takes Cyrus and Bria into the storage room, while Baenn stands next to the door on the hinge side, to make sure he's not seen when the door opens.  Within a short while, the door does creak open and a goblin with bowls of crockery steps inside.  Baenn lets him enter and then shuts the door quietly.  With a savage strike, he cuts the goblin nearly in half.  The other goblin opens the door and pokes his head in.  Amallind is waiting for him with a nocked arrow.  She looses it at point blank range right into his face.  He falls without a cry to the floor.

The four of them sneak out into the room, and hear the sounds of a few goblins in a small attached barracks.  Inside, they see four goblins sitting on their bunks with sheets of paper in one hand and strangely shaped dice in the other hand.  They appear to be having a discussion of "+2 sword of human-gutting" whatever the heck that is.  Cyrus steps up and casts a spell that makes three of them fall asleep.  Amallind nails the last to the wall with an arrow like a grotesque decoration.  With a small dagger, she slits the throats of the other three, mumbling her hatred of the foul creatures the entire time.  Bria looks a little pale, but nods approvingly.

Sneaking past another doorway, they see what appears to be a large mess hall, with many goblins.  Even Amallind thinks it best to leave them alone.  It's a bit quieter again on the other side of the mess hall, and ahead the group sees a four way junction.  To the right is an ornate door guarded by two goblins.  Cyrus holds Amallind back wordlessly as he steps up to cast his sleep spell once more.  Both of the guards slump to the ground.  Amallind slits their throats as well.

The door itself is finely constructed, with gold filligree and a design that looks much like that marking the goblins all had on their clothing.  Here, it is much more detailed, and it is clear to see that this is no bat, but some kind of obscene demon.  A great number of voices chanting in unison can be heard through the door.  Baenn looks at Amallind and shakes his head pointedly.

They turn now to the openning that would have been straight in front of them earlier (it's now to their right.)  This is a richly furnished, but short, hallway with tapestries on the wall.  The few doors in this small hallway are locked and nothing else of interest is to be seen.  The final passageway leads downward through a stairwell.  At the bottom are five more goblins waiting in a large hall and large doors on the opposite side.  Cyrus casts sleep a final time, and all five slump to the ground.  Amallind is about to go to work with her dagger again when the sound of shouting is heard from above.  It appears the group's handiwork has been discovered.  "Run!" Cyrus shouts, and they all bolt through the large doors into the outside.

Here there is a rocky and somewhat steep slope (although not as steep as the ridge around the corner) and all of them start down the slope and hide amongst the rocks as best they can...


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 11, 2003)

Like I said, because we had so much fun, after this session's cliffhanger ending, we decided to keep this up.  Also, because we didn't design our characters to really be long-term characters, we decided to take them to the drawing board.  For one thing, we rolled our stats in order.

So, to keep our high stats, we're thinking of going back and doing a 35 point buy (the highest I've ever done, I think) and arranging the stats as we please.  Cyrus is going to be reworked as a Magister from AU, and Baenn is going to bump up his CHA so he can later multiclass as a Mageblade (also from AU.)  I'm not aware of Amallind's player making any changes to her concept, so she may remain the same.  We're also going to _not_ arbitrarily level up after all, as the XP tables aren't the same, for one thing.

We've also got our fourth player interested in joining us, and he's talking about making a halfling rogue that concentrates on acrobatic skills -- kind of the medieval dwarf/jester in concept, I suppose, although neutral evil.    He made the character under our old rules, though, so he may need to tweak him as well.  Next up I'll be running, and that should happen sometime this week -- maybe Saturday evening.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 12, 2003)

Here's a map I whipped up in the Heroes of Might and Magic III map editor.  I added some text to the map, but accidentally deleted that version.  This is still pretty cool, I think...


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 12, 2003)

Yeesh!  I hadn't realized the quality of that image had degraded so much in the conversion to a gif file.  Sorry!  The original looks tons better.


----------



## shadowlight (Sep 12, 2003)

Mrs. Shadowlight just wrote up her character history: journal style.  It's really good so I'll try to get her to post it!


----------



## shadowlight (Sep 12, 2003)

Also, nice map!  The only think I don't like is that it distorts the scale, but it looks cool!


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 12, 2003)

Yeah, it's totally "stylized" not realistic.  Still, that's probably more appropriate for the characters anyway.  By the way, does Amanda have an account here?  Is she making any changes to her character, or running with it the way it is already?


----------



## shadowlight (Sep 12, 2003)

Joshua Dyal said:
			
		

> Yeah, it's totally "stylized" not realistic.  Still, that's probably more appropriate for the characters anyway.  By the way, does Amanda have an account here?  Is she making any changes to her character, or running with it the way it is already?



She doen't have and account... yet!
She's going point-buy as well.


----------



## fenzer (Sep 13, 2003)

This is a fun write up Josh.  

We have done these from time to time but my group has a hard time sticking with it.  I hope you guys have better luck.  

I like the idea of swapping DMs.  That should mix it up enough to keep it interesting.

I would love to see the character write ups.  I hope you will post them.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 13, 2003)

Thanks!  Of course, as of right now, the characters are all in a state of flux -- my character's stats will all be changing, for instance.

What's your group playing these days, anyway?  I really liked your SLC Cthulhu.


----------



## Mrs Shadowlight (Sep 13, 2003)

All right, here is the beginning of my character write up for our campaign.  This is my very first post ever on this message board so don't make fun of it too much.      I've had a lot of fun typing this up so I hope you enjoy it.  Let me know what you think.

 3rd February

Before I begin I would like to say that this is not my idea.  The court appointed "therapist" thought that this "exercise" in writing down my life's story would help me work through my "issues."  I am skeptical, but if keeping a journal will rid me of the annoying community service assignments I am willing to try.

*Born in the Shadow*​My life actually begins with the death of my mother–although her physical death came many years after the cruel life in Liska killed her spirit.  Most would balk at my disrespectful comments about the fair city from which I hail.  Liska is seen by most as a city of kindness and honesty.  The last refuge of civilization before broaching the wasteland to the west.  For most who visit and many who live here, that is true but Liska has a devilish underworld that preys on those who find themselves without fortune and name and banished to the forest floor.  

Suspended in the treetops by might and magic, Liska is a fairy tale that most children dream of finding.  My mother was such a child and left her family to find that dream.  She had the intention of working at one of the city's inns.  Apprenticed to a bard, she found work entertaining the wealthy clientele at the Teetering Limb.  When it was discovered that her bard master was using his strange songs to embezzle money from the tavern, he was dropped from the Teetering Limb to the ground below and did not live to sing again.  My mother was left without much skill and with a very poor reputation for fraternizing with a thief.  After weeks of trying to find work, she found herself on the forest floor with the other panhandlers, pickpockets and prostitutes.  She had no money and no food and found herself with only one solution.

During the day, the sun filtered through the heavy canopy of trees and buildings barely lighting the forest floor below.  When the sun spots turned to a burning gold and then red with sunset, the creatures of the underworld began their assent into the shining treetops of Liska.  To see it reminds one of a swarm of insects stealing toward a pile abandoned grain.  The ropes that hang down begin to move and sway and it seems that the forest floor itself is rising up to engulf the treetops.  Here my mother climbed each night in shame toward her only means of survival.  

As a prostitute she was able to get enough copper to buy food and a small dagger she used to protect herself from her neighbors down below.  Climbing caused her arms to grow more sinewy and strong each night but soon she noticed it was more and more difficult to make it to the top of the canopy. She had become pregnant.  

The baby inside of her had become her salvation.  She pulled herself up, performed her function with detachment and slid back down as dawn broke to count her coins.  She bought only enough food to sustain her and her baby and a few prayers from the cleric assigned to the forest floor.  She prayed that her baby would be a boy.  That he would find a benefactor in the trees to raise him to a life that would never be as terrible as the one she was living.  

One morning, late into her pregnancy, she groaned under the weight of the baby pulling her down.  Her body had been abused by more and more men of lower and lower quality as she tried to earn money to save her baby and therefore, herself.  On the morning of my birth, she fell.  She was far enough down the ropes that she did not immediately die but her wounds were extensive and labor came with fury.  Those coming down the ropes after her kicked her out of the way and cursed her for the inconvenience.  Except one.  A young girl who worked as a scullery maid to one of the less virtuous tavern owners took pity on her and went for help.  

My mother was carried by the blacksmith and his wife, to their home.  The shadow of Liska housed very few acknowledged members of the city proper and the blacksmith was one of them.  His trade dictated that he stay out of the treetops and his legitimate business dictated that those above respect him in spite of where he lived.  His wife was also valued as an ambassador to merchants and tradesmen who came to trade with the city.  She was the first face of Liska to most and was a hospitable host. She and her husband took care of the animals and carts, led the way to the lifts and acted as tour guide to first time visitors.  She had a reputation even from the rejected of Liska for her kindness and mercy.  Lane and Aliiya carried my mother when everyone else would spit on her for her weakness.

Aliiya put my mother in her bed and told her husband to run to the cleric's hut.  Lane ran to find the only hope for this poor woman but when he came to the cleric's home he refused to help.  My mother had been judged by the gods and found unworthy.  Lane was filled with a fury he could barely control.  He had seen this sweet human woman groan under the strain of falling and labor and her only concern was for the life of her baby.  I think he saw something of his own human mother in her and the heartbreak was unbearable.  He ran back, blind with fury and only with the gentle pleading of Aliiya and the tearful eyes of my mother, did he not return with his hammer to finish the cleric.  

In a blaze of pain and blood and death, I was born.  My mother lived long enough to see that I was a girl.  I am certain she felt defeated and broken although Aliiya would never tell me that.  I am also certain her terror came because she knew what my fate would be.  My mother's last act was to give Aliiya the purse of copper and with her dying breath ask her to use it to bury me in a consecrated grave and not leave me an orphan to die alone in the shadow of Liska.  

So much for her childhood dream.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 15, 2003)

The four scrambled as quickly as possible away from the eyes of the goblins before they came out looking for them.  At the same time, they kept their eyes open for a place they could hide.  A small opening in the side of the hill looked promising; it was only about three feet high and a few feet wide, but it looked like it opened up into a cavern almost large enough for them to stand that went back about forty feet.  Cyrus sent a light globe spell into the back of the cave to check it out while the rest quickly climbed inside.  The small cave was rough -- it had stalactites and stalagmites and a good deal of rubble (which was subsequently stacked around the front of the cave to make the aperture even smaller and less noticable to any patrols looking for them.)  In the center of the cave was a small pool of water, and a very slow _drip-drip_ from above was the only sound they could initially hear.  Plumbling the pool with her staff, Amallind is unable to find the bottom.

Listening carefully at the entrance, Amallind soon hears the sounds of the search for them, but nobody seems to come close initially.  Finally she hears a couple of very odd sounds.  "There here!  Let those others go, they're not important!" is called out from near the top of the hill.  The sounds of the search fade away to nothing.  Then, another sound, a dull, rumbling rhythmic sound, like the tramp of marching feet.  She decides it's worthwhile to risk sneaking out of the cave to see what's going on.

There doesn't appear to be any sign of anyone searching for them, but to the south, she sees a road like a gray ribbon stretching away from the temple/fortress.  On that road is a phalanx of what looks like fighting men marching towards their position.  She doesn't recognize the style of the armor or weapons, except to note that they are all uniform.  They do not look like goblinoids, but rather humans.  It is unclear if they are marching to join the goblinoids or not.  She ducks back inside the cave.

The first thing she notices is that the steady _drip-drip_ of the water seems to have picked up it's pace.  Something is causing the water to drip faster.  Quickly the group searches the area and finds a small naturally occuring chimney above the pool, from which the water is dripping.  Cyrus sends a light up the chimney to have a look.  A few feet up, they see a small face, covered with fishy greenish scales looking back at them.

"Hello there!" Amallind calls out in goblin, common and elven.  She is answered in common.

"Hello!"

"What are you doing up there?" Cyrus asks.

"What are you doing down there?" asks the small-fishy creature.  "This is my home, you're the ones who don't belong here."

"We're just hiding from the goblins," Cyrus answers.  "We'll be on our way soon enough."

The creature, seemingly convinced of their friendly intentions, hops down to talk with them face to face.  It is a small creature, not much more than three feet tall, and spindly of build.  It is covered in fishlike scales and has wings sprouting from it's back _(although they didn't know it, it is a water mephit)_.  They talk with it some more, trying to understand the lay of the land, but the creature seems very unsure about what goes on on the surface.  He says the pool below leads to a vast underground aquifer.  He's not sure how he got to be where he is, but has not tried to leave the watery security of his home to find out.  He's aware of the fortress above him, and says it seems to have been inhabited since he came to the area, but knows little of what goes on there.  The name of Grendu means nothing to him.

After a few moments of discussion, the creature picks up a bit of a tart tongue.  His friendly attitude turns a bit bored and impatient -- he wonders when the group will leave his front porch alone and let him have some peace.

Amallind decides it's time to do a little more reconnoitering to see if leaving the cave is viable at this time.  It's getting late in the evening, and will soon be dark.  Although she knows goblins and hobgoblins can see in the dark, she also knows that the range of this sight is limited.  She quietly steps outside again.

The weather has turned downright weird.  High winds now howl around the hillside that the fortress in built on, kicking up dust.  Both sight and sound are fairly well obscured.  Above the fortress/temple the clouds seem to be spiralling into a whirlpool of some sort.  "This can't be good..." she says to herself.  Taking advantage of the cover of the wind and dust, she creeps upward toward the structure.  There is a large door there, but only three goblins seem to be watching it.  She creeps back to the cave at this point to tell the others what she has seen.

"They've started the ritual," Cyrus says.  "They must be trying to summon Grendu now.  We have to try and stop it."

The little water mepit was glad to see them leave, although Bria was less inclined to sneak back into the goblin fortress than the others.  She does agree to creep up near the door and hide behind a boulder, though.  Amallind nocks an arrow to her bow, but Cyrus stops her.  "Let me see what I can do first," he says.  Waving his hand softly and whispering words of power, he casts a spell that causes each of the goblins to wince in pain and stumble.  None of them falls to the ground, though.  Amallind sends an arrow at one of them, nailing him to the door where he hangs suspended with an arrow through his head.  Baenn rushes the last one, but is unable to hit him.  The final one turns to open the door, but Amallind is chilled to see that he doesn't have a look of fear or panic, as she expected from a goblin.  She sends another arrow at him that brings him to the ground in front of the door.  The final one tries to disengage himself from Baenn, running towards the door and blowing a whistle.  Baenn chops his back wide open, but the damage has already been (presumably) done.   They quickly move the dead bodies to the side and hide on either side of the doors, hoping to surprise whomever opens them before they are in turn overcome.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 16, 2003)

When, a few minutes later, someone comes to the door, he is rudely surprised by a faceful of weapons.  "Whoah," he says, doing his best interpretation of Keannu Reeves.  He's not a goblinoid, as it turns out, but a human, although distinctly exotic in features and accent -- dark skin but shockingly bright blond hair and pale grey eyes.  He's also a bit on the fat side, and dressed rather well -- as befitting a merchant.

The group quickly makes up some lame story about being new recruits to the cause of Grendu and wondering why they're greeted at the door by a human merchant, but he seems to accept their story easily enough.  "Grend-who?" he asks.  "Look, I'm just passing through.  I've been making money off the goblinoids for years and have a regular caravan from down south.  I even stop as far away as the City of Brass _(NOTE: we had a new PC about to join in a few minutes who randomly generated his location in PCGen and it said the City of Brass.  Our City of Brass isn't the standard Great Wheel version; it's a city far to the south on the edge of a vast sea of fire.  Everyone knows, after all, that the farther south you go the hotter it gets until the very ground itself bursts spontaneously into flame...)_  You're welcome to meet my caravan; I think the goblins aren't accepting company at the moment.  It seems they're all... busy."  Indeed, everyone hears the sound of the chanting of many, many voices from somewhere above them in the temple.  Lacking any better ideas, they agree to follow this merchant fellow (who identifies himself as Jozzell, but is usually called Jezebel or Jocelyn by the PCs) to a little room off to the side of the temple where the merchants are housed.  There's about half a dozen of them in a small room playing dice.  There are three that look like caravan guards, Jozzell himself (obviously), a halfling that is chained to a chair, and a littler man that is not a southerner, but who has a sneaky, rat-like face.  The PCs all look at each other wordlessly and know immediately what to do.  Cyrus talks a bit to Jozzell to shake him up for information while Baenn throws the dice with the caravan guards and Amallind decides to talk to the rat-faced man.  He seems to be the least drunk, by far; she notices, in fact, that he barely sips his cheap wine while the others are sloshing it all over the place.  Baenn promptly loses nine golden crowns.

Cyrus has an interesting discussion with Jozzell about his business, but unfortunately, he seems to know very little about goblinoid politics or current events.  The merchant also shows off his halfling slave, Gunderic, who is an entertainer and acrobat _par excellence_, apparently.  He unchains the little fellah, who proceeds to do some flips and somersaults, getting a good reaction from the drunken crowd.  In the midst of his performance, he suddenly stops and points away crying, "What the heck is that?"  While every one of the drunken faces turns to see what he's talking about, he dives away and hides behind a counter, creeping quietly into the kitchen behind.

Before the drunken caravan guards can wonder what happened, though, another development gets their interest.  Amallind has been talking quietly with rat-face in the corner.  "You don't really look like you belong here," she says.  The sneaky git snorts quietly.  

"I could say the same thing about you.  I belong here, and am well known to the goblinoids, but I've never seen you before."

This line of questioning makes Amallind a little nervous, but she pushes on.  "We're relatively new.  Why don't you let me know what's going on so I don't stumble into something I don't mean to?"

Rat-sneak smiles.  "What's in it for me?"

Amallind thinks for a second.  None of them have a lot of treasure or money, and Baenn has been losing what little of it they did have.  "We have important and influential friends at Liska," she says.  "You want something done, we can make it happen."

Rat-sneak barks a short laugh.  "Playing both sides of the fence, are you?  Hmmm..." that makes him thoughtful, and he talks more to himself at this point.  "Of course, soon there won't be a Liska, if all goes according to plan, but it never hurts to be prepared."

He turns to Amallind again.  "Here's a freebie anyway.  Lose the Liska clothes.  You stand out like a sore thumb that way.  Maybe these jokers here have something you can use."

It's about this time that Gunderic makes his astonishing disappearance _(it was astonishing to me, anyway.  I hadn't recalled that you could make a Bluff check to get a bonus to a Hide check, but my drunken guards rolled so abysmally that I ruled he totally pulled it off.)_  Partially to cover for the little guy, and partially taking rat-sneak's advice, Amallind gets up and starts dancing.  Apparently, she's decided that these men are so drunk they'll fall for some kind of reverse strip tease where she dances and takes the clothes off of _them_ which in turn she'll use as a disguise.  They all promptly forget about Gunderic, but they're also somewhat reluctant to lose their pants, for some reason.

Cyrus decides he's tired of talking to these fellows and not getting anywhere, so he stands up behind one of the guards and clocks him on the back of the head with his staff.  "Oww!" he says, turning around, rubbing the back of his head.  "Be careful, you clod, that _hurts!_"  Cyrus responds by hitting him again, knocking him out.  That lets the cat out of the bag quick.  The other two guards stumble to their feet, one of them reaching for his sword.  Amallind hits Jozzell with her staff, knocking him out.  Baenn leaps over the table and tries to hit the guard with his sword, but misses.  Rat-sneak slips out the door quietly while nobody is looking.  Meanwhile, the guard with the sword has been cutting Cyrus down to size, he's lying in a heap on the floor barely conscious.  Finally Amallind jumps over the table herself, finishing him off.

Gunderic comes out from the kitchen at this point and slits the throats of his former captors.  When asked if he will join the rest of them, he thinks for just a second, realizes he doesn't have tons of choices and shrugs.  "Sure."

They've got bigger problems to deal with, though.  Cyrus is able to cast a spell that converts some of his real damage into subdual damage, so his vicious sword cuts turn into blackish, angry bruises.  At this point, they all realize that they can't hear the chanting anymore...


----------



## fenzer (Sep 17, 2003)

Great write up Mrs Shadowlight, well written and moving.  I am curious to know what your character is.  Could you post any stats?

This is a fun write up Josh.  Thanks and keep them coming.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 17, 2003)

Human ranger, using a bow and a quarterstaff.  3.5 variety, with bow-fighting path (I believe.)  One more post to get us up to date, and one more big fight.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 22, 2003)

As a matter of fact, everything seems to have gone quiet.  Amallind opens the door, and there is no sign of anyone about.  Waving for the others to follow her, but keep a distance, they creep through the temple.  At all points, it seems to be abandoned.  They even find the large, heavy doors they had seen earlier.  They are slightly ajar, so they enter the room beyond.  This room is large, with wooden "boxes" that are reminiscent of the kinds that typically house choirs in cathedrals back in Liska.  A heavy stone altar is in the center of the room, bloodstained and black.  There is still no sign of anyone near.  A strange dread comes over the party as they search the empty halls of the temple.  There is a slightly charged feeling in the air, a kind of tension without explanation.  Listening carefully they even think they can almost hear a strange and fell voice in the air; a deep voice that is more felt than heard, chanting or gibbering to itself in the darkness.  The group supresses a shudder and decides that they have seen enough.  They wisely decide _not_ to see if the barracks under the temple are similarly abandoned.  They quickly and quietly leave the compound and head back towards where they left Bria waiting for them outside.

Outside things are quiet as well, and it is getting very dark moving towards evening.  The wind has calmed down considerably, but still blows dust in their eyes.  They quickly walk away from the accursed temple, but are surprised to find that Bria is no longer there.  There's no immediate sign of a struggle, but there is a faint trail that Amallind is able to follow.  They decide it's time to see what Bria is up to, and make sure she's all right.

They follow the trail of Bria until near evening the next day without catching her.  She seems to have been heading towards the Blood Pass, which is the direction they would want to travel anyway, but then she veers southward into a forest of broken and dead trees.  Amallind _(who really nailed all her perception rolls all night, as you might have noticed)_ hears some odd sounds and sees some shapes moving through the darkness -- three large shapes.  They huddle together for protection, but continue making their way through the woods until they burst into a clearing of sorts.  Ahead of them is a crumbling structure; a raised pavilion with broken columns.  Through the trees burst two creatures with heavily armored riders.  They lower their lances and charge the party.





​_(NOTE: Despite the picture, I knew no one else in my group has access to _Fiend Folio_ so I was free to make this what I wanted.  What they ended up being was Hobgoblin fighter-2s mounted on toned down dire boars.  The players still thought this a very difficult combat, but that's partly because they weren't running on full at the beginning.  Actually, they only faced two of the three that Amallind had seen earlier, and the hobgoblins used pretty lousy tactics to boot.  But still, there's no call to go gratuitously killing PCs on this type of game, is there?  )_

After charging with their lances full into Baenn and Cyrus, the hobgoblins throw down their lances and draw longswords to continue hacking at the party.  Gunderic finds himself climbing a tree, but when one of the goblinoid scouts passes him by, he climbs back down to flank and backstab the fellow.  Baenn takes one of them down on his own, then chopping the creatures mount into a giant pork chop, but not without taking a few lumps of his own.  The other three gang up on another hobgoblin, and their combined efforts are sufficient to bring him and his savage mount down as well.

They are surprised to find that the hobgoblins are very well equipped; their armor and weapons are of exceptional quality, and identical.  These are not the roving scouts of a tribe of wanderers, but the scouts of a highly civilized and mobilized military machine.  The group begins to fear for the prospects for Liska if this army has indeed been pointed in that direction.  They are also concerned about the third soldier, who they have not seen in the area recently.  Baenn remarks that they may have sent one of their number to report back on the finding of trespassers.

But first, it's time to set in for the evening, and Gunderic wants to make sure the location is safe.  He climbs the crumbling steps to the top of the pavilion, and sees a sunken sqaure in the center, as if it once held a pool of some kind.  The walls of the pool are cracked, and one crack looks large enough for him to enter, although the larger party members cannot.  He crawls inside and sees a rough tunnel, as if dug by very large rats, leading around a corner for about twenty feet.  He doesn't see any signs of life, but at the end of the tunnel, there is a wooden box.  He quickly picks the lock, inspects the thing for traps and opens it.  There is a brilliant flash of light and the sound of eerie, disturbing laughter, but nothing else happens _(I thought about having it unleash some kind of summoned demon or somesuch, but it was late in the night and I didn't want to start something new.  As it is, it came across as a kind of joke box more than anything else, and the laughter was imagined by my players as belonging to some kind of freaky clown.  Ahh well, we'll see from the next DM whether or not this meant anything!)_  Inside is a very rich looking medallion, made of gold with a ruby crystal in the center _(in fact, it looks a bit like the headpiece to the staff of Ra...)_


----------



## fenzer (Sep 28, 2003)

Thanks for the update Josh.

Nothing worse than armoured goblins.


----------



## Desdichado (Sep 29, 2003)

Now, if only we had played this weekend like we hoped...    Instead, we generated characters for the first of our alternate games, since we didn't have the full crew.


----------



## Mrs Shadowlight (Oct 4, 2003)

Joshua Dyal said:
			
		

> _  But still, there's no call to go gratuitously killing PCs on this type of game, is there?  )_
> 
> With rotating DMs there is definitely the fear of retribution--don't I get to DM next?...mu hah hah hah hah


----------



## Desdichado (Oct 4, 2003)

Yes, there is that too.


----------



## fenzer (Oct 28, 2003)

Bump.


----------



## Desdichado (Nov 3, 2003)

Still trying to play the next session...


----------



## fenzer (Nov 17, 2003)

Here ya go.  Bump.


----------



## Desdichado (Nov 17, 2003)

I'm sure you're not as disappointed as we are that this game has stalled.  In general, it's due to one person who's schedule has been somewhat "involved", shall we say.  The other three of us (myself and the shadowlight family) are considering telling the other guy he can join us later as we move the game along a few sessions in the next little bit.

Also, I'll type up little "Story Minutes" for the Chicago Gameday sessions I ran if I get a chance.


----------

