D&D 5E Goonalan's 5th Ed Games- The Union in the Red Larch Adventure Session #72 to #75 (12/04/17)

Note the text below is from my EU Campaign in Lost Mine of Phandelver, go to the Last Post for details from the here and now, from all of my 5th edition campaigns.

Chapter 1: About eight hours now.

Hellwhip kicked his heel hard against the side of the wagon, his leg dangling there, rocked by the steady gait of the oxen. The cart, and its contents, rumbled on towards Phandalin, two more days of this, the ranger thought, and then sighed loudly. The wiry human glared down at Grimm, his new companion, walking by the side of the wagon and whistling a cheery tune. The paladin of Tymora looked up at that exact moment causing Hellwhip to suddenly rearrange his grimace into a frown, and then eventually a thin-lipped smile. Grimm grinned back, and then for good measure waved at the now scowling ranger. Hellwhip cringed inwardly and quickly looked away- feigning interest elsewhere. He had been an adventurer for... well, about eight hours now, he hated it, particularly the having to be nice to people.

In the back of the wagon Zyler groaned and clutched at his stomach, the priest of Tempus was in a bad way- at times sweating and moaning, other times shivering and groaning- a fever gripped him. Which was doubly unfortunate as Zyler was the only one of the hastily assembled group with any medicinal skill. Hellwhip echoed Zyler's groan and shook his head- he needed a drink, the ranger had been off the bottle for... well, about eight hours now. He had a splitting headache and none of this- he waved his hand absentmindedly to indicate the beautiful countryside and sun dappled rolling hills that sprawled alongside the High Road, none of this was helping. His home was in the city, the city in question being Neverwinter; his domain the narrow alleys and sodden streets, or else the storm tossed seas- he hated all of this... land, and the depressing greenery. The ranger silently seethed for a while, trying to make sense of this new venture. It wasn't so difficult being an adventurer, he reflected- nothing had tried to kill him thus far. He just had to learn to put up with 'others', he wasn't used to having 'others' in his life, he was a loner by nature. He didn't have friends, he didn't socialise. When he had to interact with people, he relied most often on his ability to bully or cajole them into doing what he wanted, or else he reached for his blade. And yet here he was, an adventurer, and in close proximity to other adventurers- people he had to get on with, that he would have to rely on if things went bad- there were bandits on the road, everyone said.

Hellwhip looked down at Grimm again, and remembered the first words the paladin had said to him back in the tavern in Neverwinter, “What kind of foul name is Hellwhip?” He kicked his heel hard against the side of the cart causing Grimm to take notice of him again. It didn't help that the paladin's first question was followed by his second- “What idiot came up with a name like that?” Hellwhip had of course chosen his own name. On the streets of Neverwinter sounding tough is important, some days it can be the difference between life and death. His name clearly hadn't had the desired effect on the paladin, who was perhaps used to more refined society. The follower of Tymora's third comment to Hellwhip was just about the final straw, “You're very hairy, aren't you?” he had said. If it wasn't for the young lad Zalt's interruption he would have... who knows what he would have done, but it wouldn't have been pleasant. It was lucky for the paladin that Hellwhip had chosen that day to change his life forever, to flee the city and never look back, the paladin of Tymora was very lucky indeed.

Grimm grinned at Hellwhip again, and then winked- for luck.

Hellwhip ceased kicking his leg and got back to glaring intently at the road ahead. It would rain later, he'd put money on it.

Beside the ranger sat Zalt, the casual observer's eye would be drawn towards the rangy young man, if indeed he was a human, the curl of his lip, the aquiline nose, and - should he let fall his hood- the unmistakeable pointy ears, Zalt was a half-elf. And possibly the least likely looking of the companions, the three others- Zyler, Grimm and Hellwhip were all thickset and older, late twenties and rugged looking, perhaps even experienced. Zalt was smaller, more compact, and much much younger- not yet out of his teens. He attracted attention wherever he went, there was something about the lad that caused people to stop for a moment and stare.

Zalt shook the reins, more for effect- for something to do - it had no discernible effect on the pace of the oxen who plodded on. He didn't mind driving the cart, he'd never done it before and was hard pressed to gauge how good he was at it- the oxen seemed content to do their thing, they understood two commands- stop and go. Zalt could get on with that kind of logic. He had been an adventurer for... he swiftly calculated, about eight hours now, unlike Hellwhip however he was enjoying the ride, at least he thought he was. The open road, the smell of the sea to the west, the bucolic countryside... ah, he breathed it all in. It was good to be an adventurer, to be adventuring- he was certain. His mind however expressed two constant and nagging doubts. The first and by far the most important was- the men he shared a cart with, his new companions, could he trust them? His follow up thought was, of course, could he trust anyone? Which paradoxically reassured him a little. The answer being he couldn't trust anyone, this inevitable truth further reassured him. The second equally nagging doubt was- is this adventuring, driving a cart down a well-travelled road, is this it- he somehow doubted it. Things would, he was certain, get much worse, this last thought also made him smile.

In the back of the wagon the groaning priest of Tempus drifted in and out of consciousness, every now and then he reminded his companions of his presence, usually by farting. It stank, in fact- he stank, but the oxen didn't mind- they plodded on.

It didn't rain that night, but it did most of the next day and all of the next night, the summer downpour at its finale was accompanied by the roar and flash of thunder and lightning, the sounds of the gods doing battle. The priest of Tempus slept through the lot, his drool and some of his stink, thankfully, washed away by the warm cleansing rain.

The EU in Lost Mine of Phandelver Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Lord of Battle.

“Looks like two dead horses.” Grimm stated, and then grabbed out a javelin and strode forward.
“Should we wake...” Zalt started but Hellwhip hissed him into silence, the ranger was off the cart and bow in hand in less than a second. Somewhat reluctantly, and with much less grace, Zalt followed suit- clutching a light crossbow in his hands. A second or two later the weapon was loaded, his hands shook a little but he hung on to the device and swallowed hard.

In the back of the cart the priest of Tempus, the great lord of battle, dreamed of glory.

“Definitely dead. Arrows!” The paladin called back, and pointed at the arrows embedded in the flanks of the horses- it was the kind of thing he did, a lot, state the obvious and then point at it, just to make sure everyone was on the same page. Hellwhip frantically signalled for the paladin to quiet his noise but the warrior was no longer looking in the ranger's direction. Grimm's gaze was fixed on the goblin in a bush a little way ahead of him. The miserable creature was struggling to draw its bow, it didn't help that the bush was a bramble. The goblin yelped and sucked on its now bleeding thumb.

“Goblin!” The paladin shouted, pointing at the creature with his javelin, and then rushed forward to stab at it. The goblin was much too quick- it danced sideways and out of the bush, and then skittered a little way up the road. A moment later it stopped, as if remembering itself, and then turned and deftly fired an arrow into Grimm's left leg.

“It shot me!” The paladin declared, and then pointed at the offending missile embedded in his calf.

Hellwhip sighed loudly and shook his head, and then fired an arrow clean through the goblin's neck. The creature thumped hard into the dirt of the road, scrabbled furiously at the ragged hollow in its throat and gargled its last words to the world, but nobody was listening. Three more goblins launched themselves out of the surrounding foliage, two clutching scimitars, rushed to threaten Hellwhip- the ranger shaped and shimmied, and emerged unscathed and smiling from their assault.

The last goblin emerged clutching a shortbow, and standing no more than ten feet away from Grimm- it smiled at the paladin and then fired. The arrow thunked into the paladin's chain armour and instantly rebounded, landing a good six feet away, closer to the goblin than Grimm. “Missed” the paladin of Tymora stated, and then in one swift motion drew his greatsword, flung himself forward, and cut the creature in two. At the same moment Hellwhip dropped his bow, drew one of his two shortswords and gutted one of the goblins before him.

The other, the last survivor of the goblin ambush, was off and running.

Not fast enough, a grinning Grimm quickly in pursuit, ten seconds later it was dead.

And then silence, if only for a short while.

“They're dead” Grimm stated, and then waved his greatsword vaguely in the direction of the fallen.

A minute or so later Hellwhip put his hand on Zalt's shoulder, the suspicious half-elf span around- “What? What do you want?” he firmly stated, drawing himself up inside, ready for any threat.
“Why didn't you fire?” the ranger plainly asked, and tapped the crossbow still clutched in Zalt's hands.
“I did.” Zalt insisted, and then a moment later, when he had remembered, “Twice!” he stated, with a certain amount of pride.
Hellwhip moved off, smirking.

Zalt continued to stare at the ranger's back his thoughts racing- the words came to him as they always did- unbidden. No, not words- sounds in the shape of words that echoed, advancing and receding like the roar and shush of the waves. The warlock suddenly span around, his crossbow cocked and ready, reacting to the sound of movement behind him.

“Sorry... I just...” Zyler clutching at his nether parts stumbled and sprawled out of the back of the cart, picked himself up from the dirt and dashed for a nearby copse of trees. “I just have to... it's coming” he hollered and then fled for cover.

Is this adventuring? Zalt fretted, as the noises in his head grew quiet again.

Chapter 3: Bovidae Caprinae.

I should stay quiet Zalt thought, if I say it they'll laugh at me. He repeated the phrase he was about to articulate in his head- yes, they will definitely laugh at me. “I...” he said aloud, his three companions instantly turned to look at him. I really shouldn't say it he thought again, don't say it- don't say it- don't say it, he repeated to himself like a mantra.

A moment later he said it, and then had to explain what he meant- which should have been warning enough, but instead he plunged on and dug himself in deeper.

And then they laughed at him.

He knew they would.

But by then he was no longer listening to their crude braying; the sound of the monstrous tide filled his ears, it grew louder until it was all he could hear, until all that he was conscious of was the dark tide in his mind.

In his mind. He had heard the call. He had been chosen.

And then it was gone.

Zalt smiled broadly and his three companions were momentarily reassured, they thought he was in on the joke- that he could see the funny side, this thought made him smile even more.

There will be a reckoning, he grinned.

Ten minutes earlier the four adventurers had quickly discovered a well-used track leading away from the goblin ambush site. They'd also quickly, and correctly, surmised that the two dead horses blocking their path were formerly owned by Gundren Rockseeker and Sildar Hallwinter. This was  particularly problematic because the former, Gundren Rockseeker, was their present employer. The dwarf had hired the four adventurers back in the city of Neverwinter, and then set out ahead of them with his bodyguard- Sildar. The adventurers' present task- to deliver the cart loaded with Gundren's gear to Phandalin - seemed to be quickly turning into a fool's errand, the prospect of them getting paid was fast receding.

The priest of Tempus, Zyler, was however now up and about although moving gingerly at times- it seemed the worst of the fellow's sickness had passed.
“Do we follow the trail?” Zyler asked, canvassing opinion. Zalt kept his own council, Hellwhip rubbed the back of his neck and worried over his answer - the ranger had greatly enjoyed the surge of adrenaline that had come over him during the goblin attack- the thrill felt like home, and yet...

“Come on!” Grimm called back, the paladin of Tempus was already ten yards down the newly discovered goblin trail, it seemed the decision had already been made.

Five minutes later Grimm suddenly came to a dead stop causing those following to concertina, he pointed with his sword at a coil of rope on the path ahead, partially hidden by grass and leaves.
“Ha ha!” he declared, “a trap”, and then without a second thought strode on.

“I...” Zalt said, causing the paladin to stop in his tracks and turn to listen, Hellwhip and Zyler likewise took note.
“I...” Zalt said again, all the while his mind repeating the mantra- don't say it- don't say it- don't say it.

“I can make a noise like a goat” the warlock eventually stated.
“What?” Hellwhip growled with as much scorn as he could muster.
“I have a spell that can be used to reproduce the sound of a goat”, a second later he added, “a goat in distress perhaps?”
Zalt's three companions looked confused- Hellwhip stared open-mouthed.
“To what end?” Zyler asked, and then to clarify things, if only for himself, “why do you want to use magic to make the sound of a goat in distress?” The priest of Tempus must have missed a meeting during his illness, he thought.
“We could stake out the trail, use my magic to lure the goblins in, have them believe that a stray goat had got caught in their trap.” Zalt explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Let me get this right”, Zyler continued to seek clarity, “we hide in the bushes, you make goat noises and the goblins come running, and we get them?”
Zalt nodded, some would say eagerly, “remember the goat would be in distress”, the warlock added, certain this last fact would sway the discussion.

Then the laughing started.

A minute or two later Grimm was off again, following the trail, and every now and then chuckling to himself and repeating the word 'goat' in a close approximation of Zalt's voice. Zyler wiped tears from his eyes, Hellwhip bringing up the rear stared at Zalt's back and shook his head, the ranger continued to fret- what the hell have I got myself into.

Ten minutes later Grimm found the second trap, a squarish section of the trail suddenly fell away as the paladin stepped on to it. The heavily armoured human danced adeptly to the side as twigs and branches splintered and collapsed to reveal a ten foot deep pit. The paladin of Tymora didn't even break his stride, he merely pointed behind him and in a voice full of certainty stated, “pit” and strode on.

The EU in Lost Mine of Phandelver Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Lord of Battle, Part 2.

The goblin trail eventually meandered to follow a fast-running shallow stream which lead into a clearing. On the far-side of the clearing a cave- the source of the stream, and to either side of the subterranean entrance thick gorse and brambles. The four adventurers hung back at the tree-line and cautiously observed the cave, trying to find familiar shapes hidden within the darkness of the opening. To no avail.

Zyler's eye was drawn again and again not to the cavern entrance but to the bramble patch just to the right of it; there was something there, hidden within the flora, every now and then he was certain he could see movement. The priest of Tempus strained to see, a moment or two later and he was certain, he grinned and then, without turning, whispered back to his companions.

“Two goblins in the brambles to the east of the cavern entrance, about thirty paces from where we stand. The pair are hidden in the shadows beneath the jutting rock, they're a good way into the bushes, but I think we can get through to them. I will proceed directly towards the pair, I suggest you accompany me Grimm, we'll try to move forward quietly, but if they mark our approach we'll have to hustle. Hellwhip you should circle around, we'll give you thirty seconds to get to the cave entrance before we start in. Zalt... Zalt...” Zyler's soliloquy floundered and foundered as he suddenly became aware that Zalt was standing five paces before him, already within the clearing. Zyler glanced behind him, it was as he suspected, he was all alone and talking to himself.

Zalt gestured in the direction of the cave entrance where a great sheet of silvery white ice suddenly shaped and shimmered into view- sealing the cavern. A moment later his hand gripped tight to the stock of his crossbow, THWONG, the weapon jumped in his hands. One of the goblins yelped and clutched at the bolt that had plunged through the middle of its back, and now emerged from its chest. The second goblin lurched around just in time to see Grimm wading through the rough brambles that tore and clutched at the paladin's armour, the holy warrior's great blade flashed. The goblin's head now free of its mortal anchor- its body, spiralled into the air, the paladin deftly caught it.

“Howzat!” Grimm declared, grinning and holding his bloody trophy aloft.

Bastards, Zyler thought, and skulked forward to join his companions at the cavern entrance.

Chapter 5: Session #1 OOC.

Just a note to say we're playing using Fantasy Grounds, I (your kindly DM) have an ultimate account, while the players located in the UK, Germany, Serbia and Sweden have free accounts. Save for the time that my internet dropped then Fantasy Grounds has served us well, and for me proved to be an excellent aid to online game-play. Two of the players have played D&D 5th Edition previously, three have never played it before, I have also never played the game previous to this.

As a group we have known each other for about five years, we played a D&D 4th Edition campaign using Maptools previously, that ended 2.5 years ago. We've not gamed together since then- no bad feelings just other lives to lead. One of the guys, Pedja (see below) lured me back into the fold, I was happy that he remembered me, and eager to play 5th edition, the gang were eager to get back together.

We're obviously playing the 'Lost Mine of Phandelver' from the Starter Set.

The following are the notes sent to the PCs, a summary of the action from the first session which appears in story form above.

Session #1

Starring-
Zalt, Half-Elf Warlock 1 played by Simon.
Grimm, Human Paladin of Tymora 1 played by Zoki.
Hellwhip, Human Ranger 1 played by Pedja.
Zyler, Human Cleric of Tempus 1 played by Christer.

The Action-

1. Meet individually with Gundren Rockseeker (Dwarf) in Neverwinter, hired to take a cart load of provisions to Phandalin (Fan-dal-in), a small frontier town. Quest #1 Deliver Gundren’s Provisions, get the cart and its contents to Barthen’s Provisions in Phandalin to receive (10gp each) payment. Gundren states that there may be bandits on the road- keep a sharp look out. Gundren and his bodyguard, Sildar Hallwinter (Human ex-Guard Captain) set off for Phandalin a day before your departure, travelling fast on good horses.

2. A day later adventurers meet for the first time, figure out who is driving the cart, and then head out of Neverwinter on the High Road. The provisions in the cart are mostly mining and camping equipment, the cart is being pulled by two oxen- slow going.

3. First day out of Neverwinter encounter a much larger merchant caravan heading for the city, and later a group of Road Wardens- all goes well.

4. Continue along the Coast Road on the second day of travel, the only excitement is a rain storm- the adventurers get wet. Reach the Triboar Trail, which leads to Phandalin, at the end of the day.

5. Third day of travel is interrupted when adventurers spot a pair of dead horses in the road ahead- it doesn’t look good. Investigations are curtailed by a Goblin ambush, all four of the evil humanoids are killed. The dead horses, you think, belong to Gundren & Sildar, your employer has been ambushed? Grimm is wounded in the fight. XP AWARDED.

6. A Goblin trail is discovered heading off into the wilds, the oxen and cart are hidden, the trail followed- a pair of traps en route are located. The trail leads to a cave entrance- lots of Goblin tracks. Time to rescue Gundren and Sildar (possibly). XP AWARDED.

7. A pair of (bored) Goblin guards are spotted hiding in nearby brambles, the pair are swiftly despatched. XP AWARDED.

Session #1 Ends.

Ongoing Quests- #1 Deliver Gundren’s Provisions
NPCs of note- Gundren Rockseeker (Dwarf patron) & Sildar Hallwinter (Gundren's bodyguard).
Enemies of note- Goblins.
New Info- Have Gundren and Sildar been ambushed and captured by the Goblins?

The story version of events has been spiced up a little because, well... that's what narrators do. That said Grimm really did say those things about Hellwhip in Chapter 1., and Zalt really did say “I can make a noise like a goat.”, as stated in Chapter 3, laughter and confusion followed. Zyler, the priest of Tempus played by Christer, was absent for the first hour or so of the session as he had in real life fallen off his motorbike and was stuck in A&E, hence the priest of Tempus being incapacitated at the start of the adventure. In Chapter 4, while Zyler was the only adventurer initially to spot the goblin guards in the bushes by the cavern entrance, he then proceeded to dither and rolled a '3' for his initiative. Zyler and Grimm killed the goblins before the adherent of the god of battle even got a chance to grab out his warhammer.

Note there is a fifth member to our group, another player, he will be arriving for Session 3, we hope.

Any questions- please ask, otherwise, read on...

Chapter 6: Two-hundred pounds of bad tempered muscle with an overwhelming desire to smash things.

Hellwhip continued to make a low, rumbling guttural sound in the back of his throat, his right arm stretched out before him- his hand open and empty, slowly he shuffled forward in a low crouch. All the while his mind racing, thinking- I can do this, I can do this, repeating the mantra. The closest wolf snarled, just once, and then dragged the dried meat the ranger had previously thrown to it closer, the other two wolves hung back content to gnaw and chew on their prizes. Thirty seconds later the ranger had edged past the three emaciated beasts who were now entirely engaged in tearing and gnawing at the ranger's trail rations. Hellwhip yanked the three metal pegs out from the ground, each peg secured a chain that stretched to the collar of one of the three beasts. Gingerly, at first, he rose to stand his full height in the centre of the pack, the wolves as one stopped eating and turned to stare up at the newly arisen figure in their midst, as if seeing Hellwhip for the first time. The ranger signalled with a gentle wave to his companions- Zalt, Zyler and Grimm, the three ceased marvelling and quickly shuffled away from the entrance to the cavern. The wolves still transfixed, staring up at the ranger. Suddenly Hellwhip clapped his hands together, just once but very loudly, and the wolves were off and running straight out of the cave and across the clearing, disappearing in seconds into the scrub and vegetation.

Performance over Hellwhip whispered, as loudly as he dared, “it's safe”, moments later his three companions filtered back into the cavern.
“That was...” Zyler searched for the right word.
“Very impressive. Very impressive indeed.” Grimm nods along with his fine words, and then chucks the ranger on the arm.
Zalt only smiles, unsure of what he can add to the moment. Hellwhip grins back at his audience and then remembers himself and does his best to look stern.

The adventurers take a moment to nose around the newly vacated cavern- empty, no other exits save perhaps a narrow chimney, quite a climb, heading east and at least thirty feet up.
“We'll head over to the other opening, on the left, see what's over there.” Grimm states to nods all round.

Back out and alongside the fast flowing stream, the ten foot wide stone passage slopes upwards, accounting for the increased flow of the waterway, the adventurers cautiously head forwards. Barely ten paces on, Zyler barks a warning and points ahead. A roiling wave perhaps four feet high, a mini tsunami, surges and roars down the rough stone corridor, the adventurers- as one, bolt for cover. Zyler, Zalt and Grimm race into a side passage a little way ahead, the exit they were making for as it happens. Hellwhip, at the rear, turns and runs back into the chamber formerly occupied by the wolves. Miraculously all four companions outrun the thundering tide which spews and froths out of the cavern, flooding - momentarily - the grass and scrub around the entrance. Zyler, Zalt and Grimm quickly dash back to the ranger, they have intelligence they wish to share.

“The passage to the left is a climb, but there's a light at the top- probably torches or a camp fire, and creatures, I think.” Zyler, the priest of Tempus, states.
“What creatures?” Hellwhip snaps back.
“Goblins.” Zyler and Zalt state in unison, the former guessing- the latter certain.
“There's a bridge ahead, spanning the river passage- about twenty feet further forward, and maybe twenty feet above, I think there's a watcher up there. Another Goblin.” Zalt states, before Hellwhip can shape any further enquiry.
The adventurers take a moment to consider the situation.
“Did the goblins cause the flood?” Hellwhip puts the adventurers' thoughts into words.
“They can't have”, Grimm states, absolutely certain.
“Yes!” Zalt states simultaneously, and equally assured.
“Perhaps.” Zyler adds a moment later, looking from Grimm to Zalt and trying to figure out which one to believe.
The moment stretches.
“Should I take a look up there?” Zalt breaks the silence and points towards the dark chimney they located earlier at the back of the cave.

Moments later the cavern is bathed in a warm bluish light courtesy of the priest of Tempus, whose shield now glows and shimmers, Hellwhip leans in to look up the chimney as Zalt scrambles upwards. The warlock's ascent doesn't last long, the half-elf comes tumbling back down, sprawls for a moment on the rough cavern floor, and then is helped back to his feet by Grimm.
“It can't be climbed” Zalt simply states, and wipes his bleeding hands on his clothes.

“Tempus guide me.” Zyler growls and then pushes Zalt aside, the priest of Tempus passes his glowing shield to Grimm and then flings himself up the chimney. His method of climbing is unconventional. The heavily armoured holy warrior uses his strength to surge up the hollow space, showers of pebbles, dust and loose rocks signal his progress. Hellwhip ducks back into the chamber to avoid the rockfalls.

Twenty seconds later Zyler pops his head out of a hole and into another chamber. The priest is happily wedged in place. Two large stalagmites block his view of the newly revealed cavern, they also greatly reduce his chances of being seen by the creatures laired there. A huge goblin, scratch that - a bugbear - lurches momentarily into sight; that's not good the priest of Tempus thinks. That's great- he finishes the thought, and grins to himself. Moments later there's a low growl, it seems there's another wolf in here the priest thinks- that's bad, and that's enough information. He descends at speed accompanied, as previously, by a shower of dust and debris. Safely at the bottom, and still grinning, Zyler shares his discovery with his companions.

“A bugbear!” Zalt gulps.
“A bugbear.” Zyler agrees, and then bumps fists with a smiling Grimm- the pair are seemingly delighted.
“Two-hundred pounds of bad tempered muscle with an overwhelming desire to smash things.” Grimm concludes, grinning still. “Can't wait”, the paladin of Tymora adds.
Zalt is not sure who Grimm is talking about- possibly himself. Although the description would suit all three of his companions.
Hellwhip shrugs, “the bigger they are the harder they fall”, he mutters and then grips tight his sword.
“A bugbear.” Zalt whispers to himself, and then he too smiles.

Chapter 7: Goblin tide.

The adventurers cautiously head back out into the main passage- once more they are alongside the fast running shallow waterway, however they have a plan this time. The quartet edge forward, upstream, on the look out for enemies, particularly on the crude rope-and-plank bridge ahead and above. Zyler uses his glowing shield like a torch, seeking to light the dark places ahead.

The four make it back to the side passage they investigated earlier, no sightings. The way ahead is rough terrain, a series of low rocky ledges like steps, and at the top a chamber poorly illuminated by a flickering light- probably a camp fire. Every now and then the light is occluded causing the rocky passage to be filled with giant emaciated shadows. There are creatures moving about up there, the sound of the stream alas prevents the adventurers from hearing them. Zyler proffers a thumbs up signal, Grimm echoes the sign- the pair grin at each other, in the background Hellwhip shakes his head and mutters to himself.

The priest of Tempus scuttles perhaps ten feet forwards, mostly in an upwards direction- the passage is even steeper than it looks. Alas the weight of the hefty human causes a swathe of loose rock to slide and tumble from beneath his feet; for a moment Zyler dances and then deftly lurches forward and onto solid ground. Grimm, still grinning below him, is less fortunate- the paladin is hit by a dozen or more falling rocks of various sizes, and hurt, he stifles cuss words and cradles his now fractured arm. The paladin's touch is however warm against the numb, a second later and Grimm's hurt is entirely forgotten. He grins up at Zyler, motions another thumbs up, and then turns to share his smile with his other companions.

That's when he spots the second tidal wave.
Much too late to warn Zalt, Hellwhip quickly rushes out of the wave's path and into the rocky passage, the warlock however is flat-footed and with nowhere left to run. The surging water picks the half-elf up, but only for a short moment, and then smashes him down again onto the rough stone of the passage. Zalt is sent spinning out of the cavern tumbling and rolling- battered and bloodied by the roaring tide.

In the same moment two goblins lope into view on the rope bridge, “Cragmaw Goblins Rule!” The pair scream in unison and then fire their shortbows at Grimm who ducks back just in time. Two more of the filthy humanoids come rushing down the shallow stream, shouting and hollering, with their scimitars raised above their heads.

Grimm and Hellwhip are swiftly into action, Zyler follows on a moment later after scrabbling back down the rocky slope. The trio at first prove ineffective- Hellwhip is cut badly when one of the goblins opens a six inch gash on his right forearm. Grimm takes an arrow to his side, the missile leaves a burning hot trail in his flesh. The priest of Tempus prays away Grimm's hurt, a moment later Zalt, only a little recovered, lurches back into the cavern. The young lad seems enchanted, else hypnotised- with staring eyes, Zyler notes; the priest whispers fervent prayers and the warlocks wounds are almost entirely healed.

Zalt doesn't stop or else acknowledge Zyler, he plods on- the rushing tide in his head, a glorious chorus of pulsing sound, he shapes and funnels the noise and then reaches out with his hand as if grasping. One of the goblins up on the rope bridge suddenly clutches at its head. A moment later the creature's skull explodes sending blood and bone fragments everywhere, the decapitated humanoid plunges off the bridge, and smashes into the stone of the cavern passage.

Grimm, Hellwhip and Zyler individually and collectively gawp, they also redouble their efforts and in scant moments the two goblins they are facing are cut down. The last goblin situated on the bridge, momentarily stunned by the death of his companion, shakes himself awake and runs screaming. Not fast enough- Hellwhip has already dropped his shortswords and has his long bow in hand, the ranger fires and thumps an arrow into the fleeing miscreant's shoulder. The force of the hit is enough to fling the goblin backwards off the bridge, it plummets to its death. The fast flowing stream washes all four of the goblins' bodies down to nestle at the feet of the adventurers.

“Nice shooting!” Grimm declares, and then winks at the ranger.
Hellwhip, before he can help himself, replies with a nod and a grin.
Zyler quickly mutters a short and sometimes loud prayer to Tempus- the Lord of Battle, Grimm tuts and shakes his head in the background. Hellwhip alas is still clutching at his side, blood pours from the wound, the ranger suddenly winces and then sags, “I don't think I can go on”, he declares, and then grabs at the cavern wall for support.

“We should retreat to the outside of the cavern, and rest- but keep a close eye on this place. They know we're here now, the next move is theirs.” Grimm plainly states.
The paladin's companions see the sense in this, collect up their ammunition and then drag the four dead goblins out of the cave to search. Minutes later the adventurers are mostly hidden in the bushes either side of the cave entrance, Zyler doing the best he can to staunch Hellwhip's wound.

Chapter 8: Woodwork.

Nothing happens for a good while, save that the four adventurers sharpen and clean, and rest, and make ready- every now and then stopping for a moment or two to stare into the empty darkness of the cave entrance.

That is until about thirty minutes have passed.
“Whoo are you?” Comes a gruff voice from the cave.
“Klarg?” Zalt asks his companions.
“Could be.” Hellwhip answers.
“Not a goblin.” Grimm adds.
“What do you want?” Comes the gruff voice again.
“We want the dwarf and the human?” Grimm shouts back.
“Gundren and Sildar.” Zalt clarifies, getting to his feet in order to do so, the young warlock even strikes a pose, which causes his three companions to chuckle.

“Whoooo?” Eventually the voice replies.
“The dwarf and the human, we followed their tracks here you dumb bastard.” Hellwhip offers, with added vehemence, he too gets to his feet to do his shouting.
“Klarg not dumb”. The voice, now known as Klarg, replies, sounding a little offended.
“Klarg study woodwork. Klarg have certificate.” Klarg adds with a note of defiance.

Which stops the flow of the conversation for a moment.

“What's up with this guy?” Hellwhip asks.
Zyler makes circling motions to the side of his head, “he's mad”, the priest adds.

“Klarg not dumb.” Klarg states again, with a harrumph.
“Okay. Okay. Got it, but here's the thing Klarg- you bring us the dwarf and the human and we go away; if not- we're coming back in and taking trophies. You get me.” Grimm declares.

Silence for a short while, followed by the sound of movement from within the cave- all four of the adventurers are on their feet now, still trying to stay hidden but also peering intently into the darkness, and clutching at their weapons.

“Klarg do deal.” Klarg whispers loudly, just audible over the sound of the rushing stream.
“Tempus does no deals, Tempus will put his foot up your arse!” Zyler is getting impatient.
“Shhh! Shhh!” Klarg hushes loudly- the bugbear seems to have crept closer to the adventurers, although still they cannot see him.

“Klarg give you human, dwarf gone- Klarg tell you about dwarf going if you do something for Klarg.” Klarg states.
“We're listening?” Grimm replies.
“You kill Yeemik, Yeemik bad goblin- Yeemik seek Klarg's power. You kill Yeemik then leave, Klarg give human and tell about dwarf.” Klarg explains his offer.

It's the adventurers turn to stand in silence, finally a whispered conversation takes place.
“Well.” Hellwhip asks.
“Tempus says we should kick ass.” Zyler clarifies his position.
“Tempus isn't here my friend, but we are- we want the human and the dwarf, I don't particularly care for the goblins and Klarg, but Tymora says 'be lucky', I figure we've just been dealt a good hand- I say we play it. Bless the Lady.” Grimm pointedly stares at Zyler throughout his speech.
“Tempus is everywhere!” Zyler states, and then brandishes his heavily armoured and muscled right arm, he grabs at his bicep- “Tempus is right here, paladin, and he has no need of luck.”
Which leaves Hellwhip grinning, adventuring is getting a lot more like home, there's always something and someone to argue about, and with.

“We should say yes to Klarg's offer, kill this Yeemik and claim Sildar, find out about Gundren and then, when the bugbear has told us everything he knows, we should cut his throat and slay the rest of the goblins.” Zalt finishes and then folds his arms, he doesn't look at all menacing- he just sounds it.

“We'll do it.” Grimm calls back into the cave a moment later, and then nods at his companions.

“Yeemik is in first passage on left- I will wait for you further in.” Klarg calls back, his voice growing fainter as the bugbear retreats.

Chapter 9: Yeemik

Rested, the adventurers head back into the cavern, second time around the crumbling stone passage is a much easier climb, all four make it up the slope without incident. The quartet are soon positioned on the last step, about three feet below the level of the chamber ahead. Within the natural cavern are five goblins- that's a bunch, they seem to be engaged in burning their lunch, the chamber to the right is divided by a raised ledge- with steps leading up onto it. Alas the flickering flame of the camp fire only serves to accentuate the darkness there.

“Which one's Yeemik?” Zyler, leading the group, whispers.
“Kill them all.” Zalt defiantly states- and is stared at by all three of his companions.
“To be certain.” The warlock expands on his previous answer.
“Reasonable.” Grimm states with a shrug, Zyler grins and nods his head wildly.
“Let's thin them out first.” Hellwhip finishes and grabs out his longbow, Zyler and Zalt follow suit- making ready their crossbows which leaves Grimm staring down at his greatsword clutched in his hands.
“Sod that, I'm not...” the paladin of Tymora begins, but is drowned out by the sound of his compatriots opening salvo.

Hellwhip is as always on target, the nearest goblin sinks to his knees and then falls face first into the camp fire, an arrow protruding from its back. Zyler fires wide, Zalt is however deadly accurate, a second goblin clutches at its forehead, the warlock's bolt embedded deep within it. It blinks once or twice, shouts “big horses” and then rolls its eyes and collapses- two down.

The three remaining goblins scream in alarm and grab for their weapons, at which point Grimm arrives on the scene, the paladin swats horribly with his greatsword and contrives to miss all of his enemies. The goblin furthest away from the paladin back pedals and grabs out its shortbow, it fires and sinks an arrow into Grimm's left thigh, “Tymora be... You bastard- I'm hit!” Grimm provides an ongoing commentary for his companions. A second goblin closes in on the paladin, armed with a scimitar, the two clash- Grimm keeps the creature at bay, but once again misses his mark with his greatsword, “Tymora you...”, the paladin mouths expletives, he seems a little upset. At which point Zyler rushes past the paladin, the priest of Tempus has his warhammer in hand- THUMP. The goblin menacing the paladin has its skull crushed by the warrior cleric- “Tempus is here to save you little brother, he protects the weak.” Zyler clearly enunciates while sporting a mischievous grin.

Grimm seethes, and swings again, and again his clumsy attack is easily avoided- the two goblins left alive are now retreating, although still with their weapons drawn. A crossbow bolt thumps into the furthest forward of the pair- it grimaces and staggers back limping badly, Zalt is getting the hang of the weapon.

“Hold!” A sixth goblin appears on the very edge of the raised ledge, grabbed in one hand a beaten and broken human- Sildar Hallwinter, Gundren Rockseeker's bodyguard.
“Throw down your weapons or I kill the human”, Yeemik the goblin states with menace, and then places the blade of his scimitar against Sildar's throat.

The adventurers instantly stop fighting, although they pointedly keep their weapons in hand.
“Looks like we've found Yeemik.” Hellwhip hisses.
“What the hell do you want?” Zyler asks Yeemik.
“Why are we stopping?” Zalt whispers to his companions, but is ignored.
“Well, what do you want from us?” Zyler asks again, clearly peeved.

“I am Yeemik”, Yeemik begins, striking a lordly pose, “I am the true leader of the Cragmaw Goblins, chosen by Maglubiyet to lead my people...”
“What the heck is it with these morons?” Hellwhip snarls, “Why do they all want to be in charge?” the ranger finishes, exasperated.

Yeemik goes on, “It is my destiny to lead the Cragmaw Goblins in victory after victory, to be feared by the weak humanoids and lauded by my kin, to be elevated to become the Goblin K...” Yeemik suddenly stops talking. The goblin gurns and groans seemingly wrestling with some unseen opponent, he stiffens, half-turns and then falls off the ledge- dead before he hits the ground.
Zalt grins and ceases whispering terrible words.

Nothing happens, but just for a moment.

One of the two goblins left standing screams “Cragmaw Goblins Rule!” and then cuts at Zyler with its scimitar, it misses by a mile. The priest, a little surprised by the creature's attack, shrugs and then screams back “Tempus Rules!”, and smashes the goblin down dead with his warhammer. “Foolish creature”, the priest of Tempus states.

The last goblin drops its bow and prostrates itself before the adventurers.
“Spare me great masters, I am not worthy.”, it intones - and prays it will survive the experience.

Chapter 10: Sildar speaks.

Zyler is quickly up onto the ledge and to Sildar, “he lives” the priest of Tempus shortly after declares.
“Grab that one.” Grimm adds, and points at the remaining cowering goblin which is attempting to tug a blanket over its head. Hellwhip complies and wrestles the creature to its feet.
“Who are you?” Grimm shouts at the goblin; not knowing the language, he contents himself with enunciating every word he speaks in common very clearly, and very very loudly.
“Catflap” replies Catflap the goblin.
Grimm punches the miscreant in the face, “answer me, truthfully!” Grimm yells at the creature.
“Cat... Flap.” The goblin yells back, mimicking Grimm.
The paladin raises his fist.
“I think he's telling the truth- his name is Catflap.” Zalt states.
“Oh. That's another stupid name.” Grimm declares and stares at Hellwhip, the ranger scowls back.
“I move silently like cat stalking its prey, and quickly like bird flapping its wings.” Catflap explains, “Catflap” the goblin declares.
Grimm punches the goblin again, “shut up and answer my questions”, the paladin roars.
Catflap shuts up.

A short while later, while Sildar is being cared for- the human is now conscious, his wounds have been cleaned and bandaged, Catflap tells all that he knows.

“Cragmaw goblins ambush dwarf and human - him”, Catflap points at Sildar, “ordered by Klarg. Klarg ordered to do this by hobgoblins who come to cave day before. Hobgoblins help, a little, with ambush. Dwarf taken by Klarg and hobgoblins, human - him”, Catflap points at Sildar again, “taken by Yeemik.” Catflap points at Yeemik- dead on the floor of the cavern.
“Who are the hobgoblins?” Zyler asks.
Catflap looks confused, “hobgoblins are hobgoblins”, he shrugs.
“Where's the dwarf, Gundren?” Zalt follows up.
“With Klarg.” Catflap offers, and then shrugs again.
“Why do they want the dwarf?” Hellwhip asks.
Catflap shrugs and looks utterly defeated.
“Where are the hobgoblins now?” Zalt asks.
“With Klarg”, and again Catflap shrugs.

Catflap continues to look confused by the adventurers questions, it seems the goblin was not involved in the planning of the operation.
“He knows nothing. Bag him.” Zalt states with a sneer.
Thirty seconds later Catflap finds himself gagged, secured and tied, very tightly, within a thick hessian sack.

“I know more of the story, I think.” Sildar states, the human is looking much better, with the help of Zyler he manages to get to his feet, he's helped down the stairs; the first thing he does is shake the hands of each of his saviours.
“My name is Sildar Hallwinter, I hired on to escort Gundren Rockseeker to Phandalin, although”, Sildar coughs, “I have my own reasons for making the journey. Gundren, and his brothers, Tharden and Nundro, have located Wave Echo Cave, I think- the cave has been hidden for over four centuries.” Sildar dramatically announces.

Grimm looks at Zalt - the warlock shrugs, then at Zyler, the priest shakes his head, and then at Hellwhip - the ranger smiles, “I have heard of it”, he adds. “It's a mine, or something like that, it was around here somewhere, in the hills or the mountains. I think it was said that the metal found there could be used to help to make magical weapons...” Hellwhip runs out of information.
“Not bad.” Sildar states. “The mine, and the forges located there, were worked by a collection of dwarves, gnomes and humans- the three races bound by the Phandelvers' Pact, an agreement to supply the magic weapons produced there to organisations devoted to fighting evil. Phandalin was a much bigger place back then, we're talking about half a millennia past, a busy trade centre much better equipped to deal with the dangers of the frontier.” Sildar concludes.
“What happened?” Zalt asks.
“Orcs happened- streaming out of the Sword Mountains, a horde- reportedly lead by an unknown sect of evil wizards. Phandalin was destroyed, Wave Echo Cave lost and for the most part forgotten, at least until the Rockseekers came along. I'm not certain they've found the place, I only know that Gundren has a map that he kept very safe. They”, Sildar nods towards Catflap, “or else the hobgoblins that ambushed us, were sent specifically to capture Gundren, they were waiting for us. They knew we were coming. I heard one of the hobgoblins say something about 'the Black Spider', I'm not sure if the foul creature was referring to an individual or else an organisation; regardless I'm certain that the Black Spider was responsible for our capture. I fear these events may take a little time and thought to unravel, and for that”, Slidar pointedly looks at the adventurers, “I will perhaps need more than a little assistance.” He smiles at his rescuers.

The adventurers whisper and chatter for a little while, making sense of this new information, eventually Zalt speaks up.
“What business is any of this of yours?” The warlock asks.
It's Sildar's turn to go silent, while he considers what to say next.

“I work for an organisation called the Lords' Alliance- an agreement between the rulers or governments of a number of cities on the Sword Coast. The Alliance seeks to defend all that it holds, to keep the Sword Coast safe, for the sake of civilisation. It is therefore vitally important that Phandalin survives, not only survives but prospers. We want to give the town a chance- a chance to rise again, what better way to do that than with the rediscovery of Wave Echo Cave. If Gundren has found the place... Well, that would be something, and it would make our task a whole lot easier.” Sildar finishes his speech.

The adventurers stop to think about things, Sildar takes the opportunity to sweeten the deal.
“I need to get to Phandalin, I have friends there. I will pay you 50gp to get me to the town safely, and swiftly- I've wasted too much time. Will you take me, today?”
Sildar's request is met by a sea of blank faces.
“Did you said that you'd pay 50gp?” Hellwhip eventually asks. The ranger is not enamoured with money or material things, but he swiftly calculates that if Barthen & Sildar pay him he will have 20gp- that's very likely the most money he has ever possessed.
Sildar nods by way of reply.
“I'm in.” Hellwhip states.
“He's not lying.” Zalt offers after staring hard at Sildar for a while, once again his companions take a moment to stare at the warlock.
“Of course we'll do it.” Zyler adds, “we would never leave you here. By the sword arm of Tempus I swear that you will arrive safely in Phandalin this day.”
“We just have to take care of Klarg first.” Grimm finishes, and grins at Zyler- the cleric grins back.