Roll Call:
Gherota, Human Fighter, Level 1. First and foremost a front-line swordswoman, and quite skilled. Irritated by Fisk's violent, exploitative worldview.
Gurnlocke Fisk, Dwarf Warlock, Level 1. A bitter spell-slinger with powers touched by brimstone. An advocate for Machiavellian methods and strategies.
Mairrethid, Human Wizard, Level 1. Student of mechanical magic and military theory, a war mage. Both moderate rationalist and mediator.
Mez Gobbo, Goblin Rogue, Level 1. Lockpick and shadow-skulking cut-throat. Motivated by enlightened self-interest, a mercenary.
Schlobrock, Ork Cleric, Level 1. Nature-worshipping shaman and medicine woman, with a huge axe. Has trouble pronouncing the letters F, S, T and V.
First Ch 01: Poot's Angels
Previous Chapter 09
Five adventurers had been hired by Poot, a wealthy businessman from the wilderness settlement of Red Creek, to recover a small statue which had been stolen from him by a band of goblins. The five followed up on Poot’s information to find the goblin’s lair, penetrated it, and stole the statue with consequences of great violence. However, they made a successful escape from their pursuers, and were even now making their way back to Red Creek.
On the way, they collected a number of horses, arms, and armor that they had captured from eleven riders from Red Creek who had followed them into the hills and attacked. The three leaders of this group had each reached an idea in their minds of some transgression one of the five had made against them, so they were riding out with the expressed idea of settling up. While the coincidence was incredible, the five returned the violence with better than they had gotten, winning the day. The loot from this encounter sped them on their way after Poot’s quarry and would compose the bulk of their treasure from the eventful week, in weight if not in coin.
“Those guys who came after us as we were leaving town,” Mez said, “they’ve got friends in Red Creek.”
“I remember,” Mairrethid said, agreeing. “When some of the grunts who just seemed to be along for the ride started to falter, their commander threatened them with what their friends would do if they didn’t hold the line.”
“You expect retribution?” Gherota asked.
“Definitely,” Fisk said.
Mez agreed. “Guys like that, they rule by fear. You saw that when the fat guy convinced his guys to stand and fight, even when it was clear that they were losing. Acing eleven guys like that, it threatens the whole basis of their power. They’ll definitely come after us.”
“So,” Fisk added, “we hit them first.”
“We don’t know anything about them, though,” Mairrethid cautioned. “How big is their organization? What are their resources, and where are their fortresses? Who else might their friends be?”
“I’ll ask the right questions of the right people,” Mez said. “We should stick together, though, along the way. Guys like this, they’d love to pick us off one by one--and take you alive so they can make killing you go really slow.”
“Cidy people are zo barbaric,” Schlobrock observed.
“Don’t worry, Schlob,” Fisk replied, “we’ll give better than we get.”
“First,” Mez said, “let’s unload all of this gear and collect from Poot.”
“Yeah,” Mairrethid said. “He never told us where to meet him when we got the statue.”
“Well,” Fisk replied, “we assumed all of that secrecy and stuff when he gave us the job was because he was worried about the goblins’ friends finding out what he knew. That’s no longer a concern.”
“Yeah,” Mez said, “but let’s avoid getting yelled at. We head to the trading post first, and let him come to us himself or send a Pheg to make another appointment.”
“We’re going do ged yelled ad, no madder whad,” Schlobrock observed.
“Yeah,” Fisk agreed. “That Poot is an ass.”
“Still, I’d rather let him come find us. I’m not his dog,” Gherota said.
“That’s the plan, then.”
As they descended out of the northern hills into Red Creek, the few buildings--taverns, shops and warehouses, mostly--came into view, with the low profile of the tents of less-permanent residents who couldn’t afford tavern prices scattered around the outskirts. Tensing against dangers that didn’t exist in the lonely wilderness, while relaxing in anticipation of warm beds, baths, and their payday, the five experienced mixed feelings in their triumphant return.
The first found their way to the trading post, as planned, and followed Mez around as he asked questions about who would offer the best price. When they found a cash-rich shopkeeper, they negotiated to liquidate all of the gear and all but five of the horses captured during their adventure. 145 gold was all they could swing, given a “blood and guts” markdown, but they accepted and divided the coins up, glad to be rid of the baggage.
They were surprised, however, when Poot showed up before they had finished the deal--suggesting he had run over as soon as he learned they were in town. Given how previously careful he had been to keep his association with the five secret, this new openness was definitely out of place.
“I came over as soon as I heard you were in town,” Poot said, smiling uncharacteristically. “Do you have the goods?”
“We do,” Mairrethid said.
“Can I see it?” Poot asked.
“Where’s the gold?” Fisk pressed.
Poot reached into a satchel and retrieved five small leather pouches. He tossed one of each to the five adventurers. “I went ahead and divided the five-hundred between you, when I heard you all made it back. I hope you don’t mind.”
“The less time I have to spend with the dwarf, the better,” Gherota said, scowling as she inspected the purse.
Schlobrock put one hand on Gherota’s arm, getting her attention and shooting her a look that said, “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry that you aren’t all getting along better,” Poot said, grinning openly. “Anyway, my statue?”
Schlobrock unslung her backpack and reached in. She pulled out the statue and peeled away the swaddling they’d used to transport it.
“Hand it over,” Poot said, continuing to smile.
Schlobrock advanced and handed the bundle over. Her eyes betrayed just how suspicious she was of Poot’s unexpected behavior, though she was making little effort to hide that.
“Thank you,” Poot said, taking the statue. “So, I suppose you’d like to relax a bit and clean the stink of the road off of yourselves?”
“As soon as possible,” Mez fibbed, matching Poot’s cheerfulness.
“Have any of you taken a sweat in a wood elf heat lodge?” Poot suggested. “The elves here in Red Creek built one and they rent it out. If you’re interested, it’s on me.”
“Why so generous all of a sudden?” Fisk pressed with characteristic suspicion and rudeness.
“Honestly,” Poot said without pause, “I didn’t expect you would be able to retrieve this statue. I didn’t think I’d ever lay hands on it. That’s why I handed the job to an untested crew--little for me to lose if you failed, and so much to gain if you succeeded. Rest assured, gentlemen, there will be much more work for such talented individuals.”
“The sweat sounds wonderful,” Mez said. “Let me tell you guys, they had one in Gobsport and I was in there once or twice a week. The heat, the water, just gets in your bones and loosens everything up. We’ll definitely take you up on it, Poot. But first, I need a drink and the caress of an affectionate woman who charges by the hour. Any suggestions on that front?”
“Well, there is my joint,” Poot started to say.
“I don’t know if we should impose,” Mairrethid started to caution.
“You got any bugbear women?” Mez asked.
“Er...” Poot stammered at the unusual request. “No. I don’t think there is a single bugbear female in Red Creek, working or otherwise.”
“Mom hated ‘em so I’ve gotta have ‘em,” Mez said, laughing. “You know what I mean. Let me check out the town and see if I can turn one up. If I can’t, I’m sure I’ll end up at your place.”
Poot blinked. “Okay, then.”
Mairrethid blinked, then added, “So, I’m sure you’re busy, Poot. Don’t let us take any more of your time.”
“Er...” Poot hesitated, officially at a loss for words. “Yeah, so, see you boys around.”
The five waited for Poot to leave before pulling into a huddle to discuss the situation.
“Gentlemen, boys,” Gherota snarled. “Like I’m not even here.”
“And you’re not even all that mannish,” Fisk taunted, “for a she-ape amazon so decked out in armor she could just as easily be a particularly well-muscled thirteen year-old ork boy.”
“He’s just jealous,” Mairrethid said, interrupting Gherota’s own response, “because his mother’s beard is longer than his.”
“Anyway!” Mez interjected. “So, who thinks Poot is setting us up?”
“I got that feeling from him,” Mairrethid said, nodding. “You too, Mez?”
“Dwarf women don’t have beards,” Fisk mumbled, “my mother included.”
“No, but I’m not good at reading people,” Mez said. “But everything he was saying and doing was wrong. It was out of character for him, for one thing. For another, when someone’s suddenly your new best friend, it is usually because the wrong person is tired of hearing you breath. And a sweat lodge? Yeah, there was one of those in Gobsport, and more folks got the old Caesar Salad* there than probably anywhere else in town.”
“I follow up to the Caesar Salad part,” Gherota said.
“It is a steam room, so you’re hot and sticky, which means you don’t want to go in there with your armor, your clothes, much off anything. The elves go naked. Mostly, in Gobsport, we used towels and stuff. Anyway, even if you do bring in some protective magic items and a weapon, you’re way more vulnerable than any other time--even more than sleeping in your bed at home.”
“So that’s where they choose to attack.” Gherota nodding, following.
“That’s what your mom said,” Fisk said, trying to jab at Gherota, who stared at him blankly.
Mairrethid tried to keep things moving along. “So, Poot’s either with the guys who rode out after us, or he’s selling us out. This is a bad position, we’re in.”
“We are waiting to get hit, and it will come tonight if not sooner, no matter what we do.” Mez rubbed his eyes, running through the possibilities in his mind. “If we run, they come after us, we lose initiative, and it is very likely they’ll deploy a superior force. So, the least-bad option is to attack now, if only to disrupt and weaken them before we run.”
“But who do we attack?” Mairrethid asked.
“Ledz azk dhe shopkeeper,” Schlobrock suggested. “He haz do work in a dirdy down, zo he probably knowz whose bad.”
“He probably doesn’t want to get involved,” Mairrethid said, shaking his head.
“We involve him,” Fisk barked. “What he wants doesn’t matter, and whatever he’s worried about, we tell him that we’ll kill him if we think he’s lying.”
“What if he tells the truth and we still think he’s lying?” Mairrethid asked.
“We kill him and asked someone else.” Fisk folded his arm. “And your mom is lying.”
“Please stop with the your moms?” Mez pleaded.
“Ledz dry id,” Schlobrock said. “We dond acdually habe to kill him.”
“Yes we do,” Fisk said, “in case we think he’s lying and have to ask someone else.”
Mairrethid urged things along. “Let’s postpone that screaming match until and unless we come to it.”
*”Caesar Salad” is a reference to assassination, as related in the Sagas of Caesar Salad. But that’s another story. (And “Caesar Salad” has nothing to do with sex or butts, you dirty birdies.)
Next Chapter 11
Roll Call:
Gherota, Human Fighter, Level 1. First and foremost a front-line swordswoman, and quite skilled. Irritated by Fisk's violent, exploitative worldview.
Gurnlocke Fisk, Dwarf Warlock, Level 1. A bitter spell-slinger with powers touched by brimstone. An advocate for Machiavellian methods and strategies.
Mairrethid, Human Wizard, Level 1. Student of mechanical magic and military theory, a war mage. Both moderate rationalist and mediator.
Mez Gobbo, Goblin Rogue, Level 1. Lockpick and shadow-skulking cut-throat. Motivated by enlightened self-interest, a mercenary.
Schlobrock, Ork Cleric, Level 1. Nature-worshipping shaman and medicine woman, with a huge axe. Has trouble pronouncing the letters F, S, T and V.
First Ch 01: Poot's Angels
Previous Chapter 08
When five adventurers were offered a substantial quantity of gold from a man who refused to offer specifics or answer questions, seeds of doubt and apprehension were planted in those five adventurers’ minds. However, between two assumptions--that they weren’t important enough to kill and that the man would want to see the job completed--and the price being right, the five proceeded. They were, thus, surprised to find themselves cornered far underground by a force of goblins that outnumbered them by more than three to one.
The five used a chokepoint within the fortress to their advantage in the coming fight, successfully destroying the goblin’s front-line fighters. However, a goblin spellcaster and a squad of goblin archers survived the battle, while four of the five adventurers were badly bloodied. The five fell back into their bolt hole, slamming and barring the door, to give themselves a chance to recuperate and plan their next move.
Gherota had twice fallen in combat, overcome by the goblins’ swords and a hex from their spellcasting leader. She was starting to come around, though, stabilizing and regaining consciousness.
Schlobrock didn’t benefit from the heavier armor and shield that Gherota carried into battle, and was definitely the worse for it. While still on her feet, Schlobrock was hurt very badly, a consequence of standing beside Gherota on the front line of the fight.
Mairrethid’s condition was equally dire. He had exchanged fire with the goblin spellcaster during the fight, and had been the loser. He weathered the consequences of that duel fairly well, but when Gherota collapsed a couple goblins penetrated within striking distance of the second rank. The unarmored Mairrethid received the brunt of those attacks.
Gurnlocke Fisk was in better condition that the others, having fed on the life force energy of fallen opponents throughout the fight to build protective shields. He was, however, still in bad shape.
Mez Gobbo, however, successfully avoided taking any damage at all during the fight. He had been very effective, wielding a crossbow and then his new magic shortsword to devastating effect. He was quick on his feet, though, and made good tactical decisions, all of which kept him out of harms way even as he felled enemies left and right.
The four who were wounded took a moment for themselves, resting for a few precious seconds to find a second wind, while Mez moved to help Gherota bind her wounds.
“You’re a nice goblin!” Gherota squealed at Mez as he approached, tearing a handkerchief into strips for bandaging.
“Don’t worry,” Mez said, assuringly, “I’m just trying to pick your pocket.”
Gherota chuckled a bit and let Mez help her.
“We need do dake a momend do ged dhiz bleeding under condrol,” Schlobrock announced.
“What about those goblins sending for reinforcements?” Fisk asked.
“We gave them enough time to assemble their forces the first time we baracaded ourselves in here,” Mairrethid argued. “I don’t imagine they had another force of similar size, gathering the back door or something in case our presence was some kind of feint.”
“I would be surprised if there weren’t a few more hobgoblins,” Mez suggested. “Any time you’ve got more than a dozen guys involved in something, they’re always going to post guards around what is most important to them.”
“Maybe this is what is most important to them,” Fisk suggested, pointing to the statue they had come to steal.
“If that’s true,” Mairrethid said, “then we’ll need to fight our way out, regardless. We should do what we can to recover from our wounds before we are forced to engage them again.”
“Yeah,” Schlobrock agreed.
“Okay,” Mez said, compromising. “But no more than five minutes. Whatever other men they have here, there may be another, larger force nearby. We could find ourselves surrounded by a small army very shortly, if we don’t get out of here quick.”
“We could try talking to them,” Mairrethid suggested. “Negotiate our way out.”
“They won’t negotiate,” Fisk said, “if that statue is the most important thing to them.”
“Maybe it isn’t,” Mez said.
“How do we know if we don’d azk?” Schlobrock asked.
“So, you want to just yell through the door, ask the goblin if we’ve got the most important thing in his entire castle?” Fisk challenged.
“More like, tell him we’re not interested in killing any more of his men,” Mairrethid countered. “I think I got nine, all by myself.”
“Not all by yourself,” Mez argued. “I messed a bunch of guys up, real bad.”
“Me too,” Fisk said, scowling at Mairrethid.
“My point is that we killed a lot of guys,” Mairrethid said, trying to calm his allies down. “That’s all, and maybe we don’t have to kill anymore. If they let us walk out of here unmolested, there is no reason for us to attack them, right?”
“Sure,” Mez agreed.
“I can think of a few reasons,” Fisk said, unconvinced.
“I won’t surrender,” Gherota burped from her position on the floor.
“Me either,” Fisk agreed.
“I’m not suggesting that,” Mairrethid said. “Just negotiation.”
“Even if we spend more time in an effort to recover,” Fisk argued, “the enemy is rallying against us, whatever their number.”
“Zcrew dheir number,” Schlrock interjected. “Gheroda and Merry can’d dake much more bighding.”
“And that goblin spellcaster hits hard,” Mairrethid added.
“Cats are brown now,” Gherota mumbled.
“So let me say, ‘hi,” Mairrethid argued. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Harkanian mind-probe,” Fisk snapped. “Once you open yourself to negotiation, they follow the psychic portal into your subconscious and boil your memories into nightmares. And bug-boy out there wouldn’t be the first goblin to learn the trick.”
“What?” Mez asked, confused.
“You’re a city goblin, you don’t know,” Fisk added, helpfully.
“You, on the other hand,” Mairrethid said accusingly, “are making all of this up. I know a think about the Harkanians.”
“Not nearly enough, college boy,” Fisk quipped.
“Look, I’m going to talk to him.” Mairrethid walked over to the door. “Goblins,” he called. “Look, we’ve already got what we came for. Maybe we can walk out of here without killing any more of your men.”
“What are your terms?” a small goblin voice answered back.
The five exchanged glances for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.
“He asked for terms, that means he feels vulnerable,” Fisk reasoned. “We can get him to make concessions beyond guaranteeing our safety out of here. In fact, maybe we should just rush out there and take him.”
Mez wasn’t sure he agreed, but riffed off the idea, projecting strength as he addressed the goblin, “We just needed a moment to drink a few healing potions, and we’re ready to be back in the fight, fresh and strong as when we started. So my only question for you is--what do you have to offer?”
“You’re a boastful liar,” the goblin voice replied, “and I think I may need to punish you for your hubris.”
Mez winced.
So did Fisk.
Mairrethid tried to correct the situation, “What we’re offering is a chance to let us walk out of here without any more fighting. I’m sure you realize, an effort to stop us will surely result in the deaths of more of your men, whatever the ultimate outcome.”
The goblin replied, “Maybe.”
Schlobrock whispered to Mairrethid, “We came in here and darded killing hiz guyz. How doez he led uz oud ob here and zdill lead dheze goblins? He’z god no backup, and he’z scared ob whad odher damage we’ll do do hiz crew.”
“You think he’s just posturing?” Mairrethid asked.
Schlobrock nodded, “He’z godda zabe az much bace az he can. We may or may nod be able do punch our way oud ob here, bud he’z godda bigure he mighd die in dhe addempd.”
“I don’t know about saving base,” Fisk interjected, “but he knows what’s in this room, and he’s got to be smart enough to connect the dots to that statue. If he cared that much about us taking it out of here, why would he have opened the door for negotiation in the first place?”
“I’ve got it,” Mez said. He called to the goblin leader, “Look, this goblin we aced here in the armory, he raped and killed my woman in Red Creek, so I got my guys together and tracked him to this hole as a debt of honor. We did what needed to be done, and were about to walk out of here, when you got in the way. So, we’re satisfied, and we can write the rest of this off to a misunderstanding.”
After a moment, the goblin leader’s voice came back, “True, an offense like that can’t be ignored, and old Bunny did like dangerous games.”
Mairrethid considered for a moment, and then suggested, “We don’t need much of a head start running out of here. Walk to the door, break into a run as soon as we’re in the clear or they start going for this room, to see what we might have taken. We can beat them heading back to the shaft up to the shepherd’s cottage, and block the door successfully so that they can’t pick us off while we climb.”
“Goblins might be able to run faster than us,” Fisk said.
“You mean,” Gherota interrupted, “faster than dwarves.”
“Or humans wearing heavy armor,” Fisk returned.
“Id will dibide dheir borcez burdher, bedween dhoze who can keep up and dhoze who can’d,” Schlobrock said. “Widh our already consziderable birepower and mighd, and dhe goblin leader nod wanding do cadch uz zo much, we will ged away ib we bollow Merry’z plan. Probably widh no more bighding.”
“That’s a vote for getting out as quick as we can,” Mez interpreted, “I think. I’ll add mine to it.”
“That’s three,” Mairrethid said. “A majority, I believe, for going with Mez’s fib and getting out of here as quickly as we can.”
“Fine,” Gherota said. “I’m game. Don’t expect me to make the final offer to the goblin, though.”
“Yeah,” Fisk added. “I think Mez will be best-able to seal the deal among us.”
“Tell me, then,” Mez called through the door to the goblin leader, “how about you just stand down, we stand down, we walk out of here, and you are left to tend to your dead, with our own twenty gold for your trouble and our apologies at not being permitted by other pressing concerns to stick around and pay our respects?”
“Fair enough,” the response came, quickly.
“That’s your twenty gold,” Fisk hissed at Mez.
“I’ve got it,” Mairrethid said, going into his purse and producing twenty coins. “We’ll vote, later, on whether we share the costs across all five of us. If we don’t, I’ll carry it myself, and applaud Mez for getting us out of here alive.”
Mez nodded in appreciation.
The five pulled themselves together for flight. A place was found, deep in Schlobrock’s backpack, to hide the statue they had come to steal. Gherota rediscovered her feet and composed herself. Slowly, each of them sounded off on being ready to go.
Gherota unbarred the door, with the other four arrayed behind her to provide fire support if necessary. She pushed the door open, to find the goblins having all relocated to the balcony on the opposite wall, though none of them were taking provocative action.
“Go in peace,” the goblin leader said, solemnly.
“Likewise,” Mez intoned, leading the party quickly, but cautiously, out of the hall.
There were no more goblins waiting for them outside, and the way back to the tunnel was clear. Just as Schlobrock passed through the door, leaving the goblin fortress, she noticed the goblin leader signal to one of his men to go check out the room.
“Run,” Schlobrock said, and without a word the five set off at a full run.
Their flight went much the way Mairrethid predicted. Behind them, they could hear the goblins start howling about the missing statue, and then the leader’s order to pursue. The goblins were quick, but they weren’t much quicker than the fleeing five, and less so when they stopped momentary to fire off arrows. The goblin leader threw a few spells after them too, but nothing that actually caused any damage or slowed their escape.
When the five reached the shaft up, Mez rigged the previously-trapped door so it couldn’t open while the others made the climb back to the shepherd’s house. Mez followed quickly, clearing the shaft before the goblins made it to the door.
Fisk pitched several pints of lamp oil down, and Mairrethid ignited it with a fire spell.
“That’ll take care of the landing at the bottom,” Mairrethid chuckled, “and give them another obstacle to clear coming up after us. After the fire dies down, of course.”
“I’m sure they’ve got another way out of their hole,” Mez cautioned, “but we saw no evidence of it, so it will take a while for them to get to it. Plenty of time to get away.”
“A good day’s work,” Gherota said.
“We could have taken those runts,” Fisk added, bitterly.
Next: Chapter 10
Initiative
Mez - 22
Blackblade 2 - 18
Merry - 16
Hexer - 15
Archer - 14
Gherota - 14
Schlob - 12
Blackblade 1 - 11
Soldier C - 10
Fisk - 6
Soldier B - 2
Round 1
Mez – Sly Flourish crossbow shot out of the room at Soldier B0 (atk 29 crit, dmg 14 + 6 sneak attack, hp 27).
Blackblade 2 – Takes up position 2 squares from door against wall, doesn’t engage.
Merry – Scorching blast centered on Soldier B0 (atk 15, miss), with 2 minions in blast range (B1, atk 7, miss) (B2, atk 20, dmg 7, kill) (B4, atk 9, miss). Action point, summons Flaming Sphere behind Soldier B0 and attacks him (atk 7, miss). Moves to get position vs Archers.
Hexer – Vexing Cloud centered on Gherota, putting everyone at -2 attack until they leave the cloud, and an additional -2 against goblins in the cloud (concealment).
Archer – Schlob (atk 9, miss).
Archer 1 – Fisk (atk 17, dmg 6, hp 26).
Archer 2 – Merry (atk 12, miss).
Archer 3 – Gherota (atk 22, dmg 4, hp 22).
Archer 4 – Schlob (atk 12, miss).
Gherota – Handaxe at Soldier B0 (atk 22, dmg 7, hp 20, bloodied).
Schlob – Lance of Faith at Hexer (atk 6, miss).
Blackblade 1 – Stands pat, no action.
Soldier C – Waits until Soldier B gets to move.
Fisk – Places his Warlock’s Curse on Soldier B0, then Vampiric Embrace (atk 19, dmg 15 + 2 curse, hp 3). Fisk gains 7 thp.
Soldier B – Burned by Flaming Sphere (6 hp, dead), dies. Fisk gains 4 thp (total thp 11).
Grunt B1 – Advance and Longsword against Schlobrock (atk 19, dmg 5, hp 20)
Grunt B2 – Already Dead
Grunt B3 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 12, miss). Advance and Longsword against Gherota (atk 15, miss).
Grunt B4 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 19, dead)
Soldier C – Burned by Flaming Sphere (dmg 8, hp 39). Advance and Spear against Gherota (atk 17, miss).
Grunt C1 – Advance and Longsword Schlobrock (atk 19, dmg 5, hp 15).
Grunt C2 – Gets away from allies.
Grunt C3 – Gets away from allies.
Grunt C4 – Stands there like an idiot.
Round 2
Mez – Waits until after Fisk acts.
Blackblade 2 – Waits until after everyone acts.
Merry – Sustains Flaming Sphere and sends it toward Hexer, attacking with it (atk 1 critical miss).
Hexer – Burned by Flaming Sphere (dmg 9, hp 37). Sustains Vexing Cloud and moves it forward slightly, to keep party covered and give goblins more room to maneuver. Blinding Hex against Mairrethid (atk 19, dmg 9, hp 12, blinded). Moves away from Flaming Sphere.
Archer – Arrow against Fisk (atk 13, miss)
Archer 1 – Arrow against Gherota (atk 13, miss)
Archer 2 – Arrow against Mez (atk 1 critical, miss)
Archer 3 – Arrow against Gherota (atk 25, dmg 6, hp 16).
Archer 4 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 14, dead).
Gherota – Draws Longsword, Footwork Lure against Soldier C0 (atk 25 critical, dmg 14, hp 25), stepping out and sliding C0 behind him.
Schlob – Healing word on Gherota (heal 9, hp 25). Righteous Brand, Soldier C0 (atk 8, miss).
Blackblade 1 – Advance and attack Gherota flanking with Swort Sword (atk 23, dmg 3 + 6 combat advantage, hp 16).
Fisk – Shift away from Soldier C0. Curse on Soldier C0. Hellish Rebuke on Soldier C0 (atk 11, miss).
Mez – Draws Short Sword, dropping Crossbow. Attacks Soldier C0 with Sly Flourish (atk 20, dmg 6 + 11 sneak attack, hp 8).
Soldier B - Dead
Grunt B1 – Longsword against Schlobrock (atk 26 critical, dmg 5, hp 10 bloodied).
Grunt B3 – Longsword against Gherota (atk 12, miss).
Soldier C – Spear against Gherota (atk 21, dmg 5, hp 11 bloodied).
Grunt C1 – Longsword against Gherota (atk 20, dmg 5, hp 6 bloodied).
Grunt C2 – Advance, Longsword against Gherota (atk 22, dmg 5, hp 1)
Grunt C3 – Advance, but keeps spacing away from others. Doesn’t engage.
Grunt C4 – Advance, attack Gherota (atk 28 critical, dmg 5, hp -4).
Blackblade 2 – Moves into room, attacks Fisk (atk 13, miss).
Round 3
Merry – Saves against blindness (save 10). Force Orb against Soldier C0 provokes attack from Blackblade 2 (atk 22, dmg 3, hp 9 bloodied), attack hits (atk 16, dmg 9, dead) and secondaries Blackblade 2 (atk 4, miss), C1 (atk 18, dead), and B3 (atk 20, dead). Sustains and moves Flaming Sphere against near enemies.
Hexer – Stinging Hex against Merry (atk 9, miss).
Archer – Arrow at Fisk (atk 17, dmg 9, thp 2)
Archer 1 – Arrow at Fisk (atk 25, dmg 10, thp 0, hp 26)
Archer 2 – Arrow at Mex (atk 15, miss)
Archer 3 – Arrow at Fisk (atk 27, dmg 8, hp 18)
Gherota – Death save (roll 16)
Schlob – Warrior’s Surge against B1 (atk 17, dead) heals (heal 6, hp 16). Healing Word on Gherota (11, hp 7).
Blackblade 1 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (dmg 8, hp 17). Advances to position of Blackblade 2, provoking opportunity attack from Schlob (atk 23 crit, dmg 15, hp 2 bloodied) and Mez (atk 9, miss), using Sneaky to take his position. Short sword against Mairrethid (atk 22, dmg 6, hp 3).
Fisk – Shifts backwards, curses Blackblade 1, wallops him with Eldritch Blast (atk 15, dmg 13, dead). Absorbs power (thp 4).
Mez – Sly Flourish against Blackblade 2 (atk 17, dmg 11 + 6, hp 8 bloodied). Takes cover against wall.
Soldier B - Dead
Grunt B1 – Dead
Grunt B3 - Dead
Soldier C – Dead
Grunt C1 - Dead
Grunt C2 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 10, miss). Advances and attacks Gherota (atk 17, miss).
Grunt C3 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 12, miss). Advances and attacks Gherota (atk 15, miss).
Grunt C4 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 19, dead)
Blackblade 2 – Short Sword against Gherota (Atk 18, miss)
Round 4
Merry – Waits for Mez to act.
Hexer – Sustains Vexing Cloud. Blinding Hex on Gherota (atk 23, dmg 11, hp -4, blind).
Archer – Arrow at Fisk (atk 12, miss)
Archer 1 – Arrow at Fisk (atk 20, dmg 9, thp 0, hp 13 bloodied)
Archer 2 – Arrow at Schlob (atk 17, dmg 8, hp 8 bloodied)
Archer 3 – Arrow at Schlob (atk 20, dmg 5, hp 3 bloodied)
Gherota – Fail blindness save (roll 5), fail death save (roll 7).
Schlob – Waits for Merry.
Fisk – Curse on Blackblade 2. Hellish Rebuke (atk 24, dmg 11 + 4 curse, dead) pact boon (thp 4).
Mez – Sly Flourish against C3 (Atk 20, dead). Advances on C2, uses Action Point for another attack (atk 12, miss).
Merry – Magic Missile against C2 (Atk 18, dead). Moves Flaming Sphere towards balcony archers, leaving it in scorching distance of Archer A3.
Schlob – Grabs and pulls Gherota back into room, slams door shut, and drops bar.
Soldier C - Dead
Grunt C1 - Dead
Grunt C2 - Dead
Grunt C3 - Dead
Grunt C4 - Dead
Blackblade 2 - Dead
Round 5
Hexer – Blinding Hex against door (atk 10, dmg 11, hp 9).
Archer – Idle.
Archer 1 – Idle.
Archer 2 – Idle.
Archer 3 – Burned by Flaming Sphere (atk 15, dead).
Gherota – Fails Blindness Save (roll 3), aces Death save (roll 20, hp 6).
Fisk – Second Wind (hp 21)
Mez – Heals Gherota w/untrained skill check (roll 13, hp 12)
Merry – Sustains Flaming Sphere. Second Wind (hp 5).
Schlob – Second Wind (hp 9).
Discussion: First question--wait to heal or not. Then three options--fight, run, talk terms. Worry about reinforcements, but dismissed, since they had plenty of time to muster before fight started. Talk terms, to earn enough time for a short break? Maybe.
Merry – Diplomacy check (roll 20, opposed Diplomacy check rolls 10, success!)
Complex Challenge, The Negotiation. (complexity 3, 8 success before 4 failures, diplomacy and bluff and insight.
Roll Call:
Gherota, Human Fighter, Level 1. First and foremost a front-line swordswoman, and quite skilled. Irritated by Fisk's violent, exploitative worldview.
Gurnlocke Fisk, Dwarf Warlock, Level 1. A bitter spell-slinger with powers touched by brimstone. An advocate for Machiavellian methods and strategies.
Mairrethid, Human Wizard, Level 1. Student of mechanical magic and military theory, a war mage. Both moderate rationalist and mediator.
Mez Gobbo, Goblin Rogue, Level 1. Lockpick and shadow-skulking cut-throat. Motivated by enlightened self-interest, a mercenary.
Schlobrock, Ork Cleric, Level 1. Nature-worshipping shaman and medicine woman, with a huge axe. Has trouble pronouncing the letters F, S, T and V.
First Ch 01: Poot's Angels
Previous Chapter 07
Pursuing stolen loot, five adventurers penetrated the underground hide-out of a gang of goblins and hobgoblins. With sentries overcome, the five crept undetected into the thieves’ lair, quickly overcoming a pair of villains to recover the stolen statue. The noise of the fight, however, betrayed their presence, and now they are cornered in the small armory of an ancient fortress, with nothing but a heavy wooden door between themselves and a force that outnumbers them by more than three-to-one.
Gherota and Schlobrock took up positions, side-by-side, to block the double-door and Gherota lifted the bar. Fisk, Mairrethid, and Mez stood behind them, preparing spells (in Mez’s case, loading a small crossbow).
As Gherota pushed the doors open, they discovered their enemies, assembled in a battle formation in the bailey hall of the underground fortress.
Close-combat was being offered by two groups of hobgoblins, a larger, more-militant cousin of the smaller goblin. Hobgoblins are human-sized and well-respected as professional soldiers and mercenaries. Each group of hobgoblins had four members, wearing chain mail with a few mixed pieces of plate and carrying shields and longswords, led by a fifth who looked like a sergeant--the closer of the two carried a flail, while the further one carried a spear.
Another group of three goblin archers had taken up positions on a balcony across the bailey hall, roughly fifty feet away and ten feet above the party. The three-foot tall, furry creatures were carrying bows almost as tall as themselves, but clearly new how to use them. A nearby flight of stairs would provide easy access, however, to anyone seeking to charge this group.
Two more goblins with shortbows were on the floor of the bailey hall, scattered between the hobgoblins and standing back a bit. Two more had short swords, and were similarly arrayed between and behind the hobgoblins.
Finally, a goblin leader, stood slightly behind his forces, carrying a cruelly-shaped, shining black cudgel and matching armor that all appeared to have come from some sort of giant insect. This goblin began chanting and waving his hands around to cast a spell as soon as Gherota’s head appeared.
Mez would get the first shot, however, conspicuously aiming for the nearest hobgoblin sergeant’s groin. The hobgoblin responded defensively, acting on instinct, while Mez casually shifted the focus of his attack at the last moment. A crossbow bolt was launched, pegging the hobgoblin cleanly in the eye and eliciting a horrendous shriek.
One of the goblin shortswords slipped in closer, near the massed hobgoblins, but against a wall so that none of the five adventurers had line-of-site for detection or attack.
Mairrethid followed up on Mez’s crossbow shot with his own, less effective spell--a hurled incendiary orb which exploded, harmlessly, on the sergeant’s shield. The resulting fireball did, however, manage to kill one of the other, lesser hobgoblin warriors who were standing too close.
Without missing a beat, Mairrethid completed the spell he was working with his other hand, conjuring another, much larger orb of fire directly behind the hobgoblin sergeant. This orb lunged at the sergeant, missing widely, but remained active, bathing those closest to it in waves of blistering heat.
“Drat,” Mairrethid cursed to himself, “that will teach me to try to do two things at once.”
Across the hall, the goblin leader finished his own spell, pointing at Gherota and invoking a dull, purple glow which radiated out of her faintly in a five-yard radius. Insects and worse started to flood the glowing area, with spiders materializing from the ceiling and dropping on strands of webbing, centipedes crawling up from between the flagstones underfoot, and a wave of moths and locusts flying in from nowhere. The vermin cloud aggressively dogged the five adventurers, impeding their attacks and concealing the goblins, while completely ignoring the goblin leaders’ own men.
“I hate bugs,” Gherota snarled. “I am vexed!”
“Dhey are nod much poizonouz,” Schlobrock informed her allies, “bud dhey will probably be here undil dhad goblin zpellcazder iz daken care ob.”
“I happen to like bugs,” Fisk announced, scratching uncomfortably as he tried to complete a spell, “but I don’t like this at all. I’m going to force-feed that goblin his own feces until he chokes on it and dies, and then I’m going pay to have him raised, so I can--.”
He was interrupted by a volley of arrows from the balcony, hitting him for minor damage. Of five incoming arrows, another hit Gherota, but the rest all missed.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Fisk growled, “you other stupid goblin...”
Meanwhile, the nearest group of hobgoblins was staying just out of sword range, forcing Gherota and Schlobrock to come out of the room in order to attack them.
Gherota did no such thing, drawing and throwing a handaxe at the sergeant, punching through his armor and causing additional damage. “Big hobgoblin, tiny sexual organs,” she taunted.
The hobgoblin growled back at her.
Schlobrock, meanwhile, took advantage of no one being close enough to interrupt a spell to cast one, calling upon a piercing blast from the ceiling to descend on the goblin leader. It missed by a wide margin, however.
“By all the ruinous powers,” Fisk intoned, pointing one finger at the hobgoblin sergeant, “most especially your mom, I curse you.” With those words, he completed his spell, throwing a conduit of energy out, around Gherota, and into the hobgoblin, stealing away a portion of his life force.
As Mairrethid’s own flaming sphere continued to burn behind the hobgoblin sergeant, the heat combined with weakness from Fisk’s vampiric embrace, finally dropping the hobgoblin after five or six seconds of near-total onslaught from the five adventurers.
Another hobgoblin, who had much less to complain about than his sergeant, collapsed from the heat of the flaming sphere as well. The sphere was close enough, too, to the second hobgoblin sergeant that he was burned a bit as well.
The other hobgoblins in the front rank pressed forward, however. With their sergeant dead, battlefield discipline collapsed and the two remaining hobgoblins in the forward group advanced. One stepped into Schlobrock, swinging his longsword to score a respectable hit, while the other moved into Gherota, who easily deflected with her shield.
The surviving sergeant, standing with the second group of hobgoblins, looked to the goblin leader for a cue. The goblin leader waived him forward, and so he advanced, taking his own hobgoblins into the melee. He recognized the superior warrior in the adventurer’s front line very early in the battle, and took the fight directly to her, advancing on Gherota and stabbing at her with his spear. He missed.
Another hobgoblin moved against Schlobrock, and managed to score another hit with his longsword. She stood strong, but the battle damage was quickly piling up on her.
These four hobgoblins--two from the forward group, the surviving sergeant, and one of his own hobgoblins--were all that could access the adventurer’s own front rank, as they used the doorway to shield themselves from flankers and from being overwhelmed.
The other hobgoblins bunched up behind the front line, waiting for their chance to do some damage, until the surviving sergeant countermanded them. “Spread out, you fools,” he barked, in the goblin language, “or their spellcaster will take you out with one shot.”
The hobgoblins moved to obey.
Mez contemplated a crossbow shot against the surviving sergeant, but couldn’t hit a vital area without some kind of advantage--by surprise, flanking, or magic. He waited to see what his allies would do, and if an opportunity might develop.
So far, the two goblin short swords appeared to be doing the same, though they were well positioned to get involved in the melee quickly.
Mairrethid renewed his flaming sphere with a subverbal chant and, with one hand outstretched, directed the newly-stoked ball of fire to roll across the floor toward the goblin leader. The sphere bounced towards the goblin, but missed completely. “Drat, drat, drat,” Mairrethid cursed. “At least it will scald him a bit, being that close.”
Scald the goblin leader it did, and made him quite angry as well. The goblin didn’t lose concentration on his own cloud of vexing vermin, sustaining the spell and moving it slightly to cover a maximum number of goblins. He showed himself to be much better at doing two things at once than Mairrethid, however, as he assembled and deployed a spell of his own.
Mairrethid was struck in the face by invisible magical forces, nearly knocking him over and leaving him reeling.
“Outch!” Fisk remarked with uncharacteristic empathy. “You okay?”
“I’m blind!” Mairrethid howled. “That motherless wolf-spawned maggot-sucker!”
“Let it out, man,” Fisk encouraged, “feed your vengeance with anger and hatred.”
“Saying things like that is why you’ve got to pay women to even notice you,” Gherota said, her grin suddenly cut short when she was the only one of the five to take incoming fire from another volley of arrows. “Gods above, that is starting to hurt!”
She finally drew her sword, dancing forward with a feint as she tagged the hobgoblin sergeant with the flat of her blade, right in the face. The hobgoblin took the bait, returning her insult with a strike, and Gherota effortlessly used the momentum to her advantage, trading places with the hobgoblin, and sending him toward Fisk and Mez.
“Lunch time, boys,” she said, pleased with herself, apparently unconcerned that she was now standing outside of the room, surrounded by hobgoblins.
Schlobrock quickly cast two spells of her own, passing a heal over Gherota while she charged her axe with magic, bringing it down on the now-surrounded hobgoblin sergeant. Despite the second spell, however, Schlobrock’s attack missed.
Meanwhile, Gherota’s benefit from the healing spell was a short one, as one of the goblin shortswords stepped forward and promptly reopened a series of wounds that Schlobrock’s spell had healed. Gherota was worse off than when she started, and the hobgoblins weren’t done yet.
“I’ve trapped your brother’s soul in a choir that forever sings my praises in the underworld, pig,” Fisk taunted the hobgoblin sergeant while stepping back just out of sword range. “I curse you like I cursed him, and soon you will join him.” He summoned hellfire that leapt up from the floor, engulfing the hobgoblin, though not quite hot enough or on-target enough to actually burn the warrior.
“You die last, dwarf,” the hobgoblin said, in dwarfish, “after I take from your body a considerable amount of pleasure.”
“You two are dumb,” Mez said, dropping his crossbow and drawing his new, magic sword. “There’s no sense making this personal.” He promptly passed his sword through the hobgoblin’s armor, into his back, and threw several internal organs. He twisted the blade, shifting his grip, and charismatically moved the weapon upwards into the hobgoblins lungs.
“It’ll take more than that,” the hobgoblin grunted, bloody saliva bubbles forming in and around his mouth, “to take me out.”
The remaining hobgoblins renewed their attacks with increased anger and aggression. One delivered a nearly-perfect longsword blow against Schlobrock, an attack that only her orkish constitution allowed her to survive.
Gherota, meanwhile, took hits from all sides. Three hobgoblins ganged up on her, overcoming her defenses and bashing her savagely. Every hobgoblins’ sword saw blood, and Gherota collapsed, helpless under the onslaught.
“Crap!” Mez yelped.
“What’s happening?” Mairrethid asked, rubbing at his eyes.
“First time yet,” Fisk growled, “I’m sorry that pathetic human female isn’t yapping away at me about goodness and puppies.”
“Crap,” Mairrethid intoned, taking Fisk’s meaning.
One of the goblin shortswords was quick enough to take advantage of the gap, too, leaping past his comrades and over Gherota’s body, into the room, to stab ineffectively at Fisk.
“You’re next to die, Toothpick,” Fisk hissed at his new opponent.
Whether it was adrenaline or will, Mairrethid managed to shake off the blinding hex just in time to conjure a force blast against the hobgoblin sergeant. The goblin shortsword was quick enough to wound Mairrethid when he dropped his defenses to cast the spell, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. The blast knocked the hobgoblin sergeant off his feet, dead before he hit the floor. Two more of the hobgoblins were knocked backwards and down from the concussive blast, though the goblin shortsword was nimble enough to roll away in time.
Mairrethid sustained and recalled his flaming sphere, moving it against the hobgoblins who continued to muster outside of the door, while taking care to ensure Gherota wouldn’t be burned too.
The goblin leader, meanwhile, attempted to renew the blinding hex on Mairrethid, but Mairrethid was able to shake it off. “Try another one, fool!” he shouted at the goblin.
Another volley of incoming arrows descended. Mez nimbly dodged, and Fisk was protected by the shield of life force he had constructed from the captured souls of his fallen enemies. A second arrow, however, managed to punch through, negating what remained of the shield and causing a nasty puncture.
Gherota continued to hover near death’s door, down and out, but still hanging on to a sliver of life.
Schlobrock laid into one of the remaining hobgoblins with her axe, howling an orkish battlecry in the process. Her energy was renewed, bolstered by adrenaline and success as her enemy fell dead in front of her. She popped off another healing spell on Gherota, allowing her to slip back to consciousness.
The goblin shortsword who hadn’t moved into the room yet now advanced, but in the process, Schlobrock and Mez were able to swing at him. Schlobrock’s axe came down with devastating effect, nearly knocking the goblin to the floor, while Mez was unable to score a hit. The goblin shortsword managed to recover, however, and attacked Mairrethid, hitting him severely.
Fisk took a step back from the newcomer and, sensing a soul about to cross over, placed his curse on the goblin. Nearly simultaneously, Fisk fired a blast of eldritch energy at the goblin, nearly disintegrating portions of his chest, dropping him dead and allowing Fisk to feed on his life energy.
Mez followed up against the other goblin shortsword, relying on the power of his sword to guide his blade in the absence of other combat advantages. One feint, then a stab, and Mez was able to pass the blade deep into one of the goblin’s kidneys. And then Mez did the same to the other one, just for fun. The goblin slouched backwards, badly hurt.
Another hobgoblin collapsed, burned my Mairrethid’s flaming sphere.
The two remaining hobgoblins, plus the goblin shortsword, all turned their attention to Gherota, who was struggling to get back on her feet. All three missed with their attacks.
“Tactical retreat, I think. Let’s clear the door so we can close it and get a chance to heal up,” Mairrethid said, gasping while he waited for the others to provide him with better options for attack.
The goblin leader wasn’t waiting for anything, though, and dropped a new blinding hex on Gherota. Her eyes instantly flooded black with decay and magical energy, and the churning magical energies ripped her open in new, painful ways, dropping her back to the floor, unconscious and again slipping towards death.
Another volley of incoming arrows descended, two skewering Schlobrock and a third punching through Fisk’s energy shield and hitting him badly. They both slumped, severely wounded.
“Well,” Schlobrock yelled at his allies, “kill dheze jerkz zo I can grab Gheroda’z body and cloze dhis door!”
Fisk obliged, dropping his curse upon and conjuring hellfire from below the other goblin shortsword. The attack worked, and the goblin fell dead. Fisk gritted his teeth in pleasure and pain as the precious life energy flowed towards him.
Mez moved forward, quickly dispatching one hobgoblin with his magical short sword, and taking a second attack against the other. Unfortunately, his second attack wasn’t as accurate as the first.
Mairrethid raised one hand, chanted subvocally, and conjured a missile of magical force, sending it to the final remaining hobgoblin. He collapsed, dead.
Schlobrock made her move, quickly grabbing Gherota and sliding her back into the room, slamming the doors shut, and dropping the bar back into place.
“Crap.”
Next: Chapter 09
