4e Tallow's Deep

[Nebulous]

Adventure #7: No Escape

PART TWO


They don’t advance any further. Douvan and Jolen recall Boss Fatty’s warning about a formidable goblin named GRISHOG somewhere in the depths of this warren, and the party doesn’t want to blunder across him in the state they’re in. They need to find a place to rest and recuperate, and after some discussion, they decide that holing up in the old Gate Room near the cells might be the best place. It only has one entrance and will be easily defendable. In theory, anyway.

However, upon arriving they find that in the three or four hours since leaving the cell block, the prisoners, including Boss Fatty, have all been released and removed. The group now has no goblin captives at all for Balthazar, and they’re back to square one. They congregate in the spacious gate room that operates the river trap. They dutifully check for goblin doors again, just to make sure they don’t get ambushed, and then rig the only entrance with a rope and bell for an early warning system. With that done, they spread their bedrolls and try to catch some sleep.

This works fine for about two hours, until they hear the howl.

The sound echoes eerily through the complex, reverberating through the walls and sending chills down their spine. And it sounded close too, and then they hear it again, and determine that it is rising from the centipede trap doors in the room north of them. Douvan and Raven know the howl; they’ve heard it before out in the wild. It’s a worg, and a big one.

The goblins are hunting them, or maybe just making periodic sweeps of the complex. Regardless, the group hasn’t had time to sufficiently rest and is still horribly wounded. Merric enters the hall and takes up a position by the goblin door. This is the only way in. The others stand near the entrance of the Gate Room, brandishing their weapons and waiting with bated breath. It won’t take long for the scouts to reach them. Merric keeps an ear pressed to the door and soon hears movement on the other side, scuffling and muttering, and then the snuffling of a large hairy beast. Merric readies an attack as soon as the door is opened, and within seconds that happens…and his dagger is buried to the hilt in the shoulder of a very shocked goblin.

“AAEEEiiii!” It squeals in agony, rocked back by the blow, but is unfortunately not slain or incapacitated. Merric skitters away from the warrior, but he caught a glimpse of four of them and a large hairy gray wolf crammed into the tunnel.

“Attack them! Kill them!” shouts one of the goblins, and the injured warrior bustles after the halfing, hefting a vicious axe in his hands.

Merric devastates the goblin with a series of brutal slashes, and flings him further down the passage. Douvan takes aim with an arrow, wondering if he can somehow disable the goblin without killing it, but his arrow thoroughly punctures the thing’s neck in a geyser of blood, ending any hope of subduing that one for Balthazar’s baleful brew.

Merric is quick on his feet, and being the only member of the party who can really navigate the goblin tunnel freely, he serves as the first line of defense. The second warrior pushes in, and this time Blackjack tries to take the brunt of its assault. The little monster becomes enraged though, and inflicts so much damage against Blackjack in a single hit he probably would have been slain if not for the cleric’s magical intervention (thank you, temporary hit points!).

These goblins are tough, much tougher than any they have fought before. They can soak up multiple blows, seeming to fight their way through the pain and keep coming. They must be an elitist guard. The others do what they can from their position in the Gate room and the jail hallway, and the goblins are quickly whittled down. Raven drops Faerie Fire on an enemy furthest away, infusing it with a shimmering aura of pain that slows its movement, and will ultimately unleash terrible damage upon it. Even the final green goblin in the tunnel is hit by the Faerie Fire. (That is a pretty badass spell!)

But then a cloud of noxious green gas springs up around their feet, and the vile goblin cackles with wicked glee. Merric sees that tattoos cover its entire body, and it is wearing minimal clothing, unlike the armored warriors. All evidence points to this guy as being a dark spellcaster. The gas is extremely hard to see through, further hampering PC attacks and bringing all those in the tunnel down to a -7 penalty to hit. The goblins are unaffected by this zone.

Merric engages the last warrior, exchanging vicious blows and parries with him, and is finally able to slam his dagger’s pommel against his head. The goblin slumps unconscious to the ground. Their only prisoner! Meanwhile, the goblin door has been shut, and Merric opens it with mage hand, revealing an empty corridor. No spellcaster and no worg. They have retreated, most likely to fetch reinforcements and return, and there’s almost no chance the party can survive a concentrated assault.

They have to escape while they can.

Balthazar won’t be pleased with their single paltry goblin, but it’s as good as he’s going to get. They hastily gather their gear, truss up the captive, and brusquely push him into the hallway. They rush down the steps to the river trap, clamber up the steps on the far side, reversing their course from when they first entered Tallow’s Deep in what seems like weeks ago. Soon they’re hunkering through more cramped goblin tunnels, and then they pop out in the main mining area, replete with mine tracks and ancient, rusted carts. They clamber into the exit hole, knowing that the entrance to Tallow’s Deep is not far at all now…

…when they encounter a terrible problem.

When the party originally came this way, Merric noticed six curious slots in the tunnel walls. He thought it was a spear trap at first, like the one in the spiked water room. Now, he sees that it was an entirely different ruse. Three heavy iron bars have been pushed across the tunnel, effectively blocking their exit. There are only a few scant inches of space between them, and Merric hears goblins on the other side. There’s another entire squad waiting for trespassers.

“They won’t let us leave,” whispers Nari-lana, the fear evident in her voice.

Merric inspects the bars closer, noting that he could perhaps sabotage them, but the goblins would be able to repair the damage easily. They back out of the tunnel down to the mining area. Snarling, Douvan grabs their goblin captive and slams him against the wall.

“How do we open those bars?” With a forearm to its throat, the little goblin chokes out that it can only be opened from the other side. A secret room contains the mechanism holding the bars in place. The only other exit outside the warren is through the worg den, but when asked exactly where that is, the captive sputters something about, “Near Grishog.”

And then the DRUMS begin anew. Pounding rhythmically deep within the bowels of the mine, it is the war beat of the goblin tribe, the Skull Cleavers, rousing them to action and bloodshed. They’ll come again, and again and again and again, and inevitable tide of destruction until the PCs are finally torn limb from bloody limb.

Desperation soars through them all. They can’t survive another fight, and there’s practically nowhere they can hide where the goblins won’t ruthlessly hunt them down, unless…unless…

….the aboleth cave.

The goblins are terrified of what lives down there. It’s the only chance the party has, so dragging their newest captive, they haul ass back to the river trap corridor. That’s when they see torchlight and hear the marching of boots from the other side. A huge squad is coming to intercept them. They won’t be able to reach the limestone stair, but there’s one option left:

They’re going to jump down. Douvan leaps first, steeling himself for the plunge into icy water fifty feet below. The goblin captive is pushed in next, squealing like a stuck pig the whole way until his screams are cut off by the impact. Blackjack, Nari-lana, Jolen and Merric all take the dive, suffering some damage from the shock of the experience. But they know the layout of cavern by now and know exactly where they have to go. Slogging through the deep water, they finally climb to high ground and enter the shallows.

They are all bitterly cold, exhausted and mostly extremely discouraged. What originally started as a simple snatch and grab is turning out to be a complicated mess that might end in their deaths. They navigate back to where the dragon turtle corpse lies and set up camp on the small stony island. A fire is quickly built and they all huddle around it, warming their hands and bodies in the ruddy glow. They don’t know for sure if the goblins will follow them this far, but it is unlikely. For now, they take turns keeping watch, listening to the crackle of flames as exhaustion tugs at their eyelids.

Later, assuming that they can regain their strength, they’ll take stock of the situation and see if there is way, any at all, to escape this hateful den of goblin evil known as Tallow’s Deep…


And there we stopped.

 

[C_M2008]

Sounds really good, I've also thought about converting this module to 4e, but was concerned with all of the narrow passageways since 4e combat relies so heavily on movement.

The aboleth and dragon turtle were a nice touch to add, if I do convert this I think I'll borrow that. Also love the burger thing-that's a neat touch.

Conversion wise was it terribly difficult? Most of the goblins are just minions I'd wager, but I could see a need to resize a lot of the rooms.

 

[Nebulous]

Conversion wise was it terribly difficult? Most of the goblins are just minions I'd wager, but I could see a need to resize a lot of the rooms.

Conversion-wise it was actually rather easy. Yeah, most of the goblins are minions, with some archers and brutes thrown in to shake it up sometimes. Now, i had to make up new stats for the aboleth and the slimespawn, but that wasn't too hard in 4e.

The biggest change was probably in the final battle againt Grishog; I had to create a Level 8 elite leader, and support him with minions, worg riders, archers, and a hexer. It was a tough fight, and...well, you'll see how it ends soon enough.

I can say that some of the scariest fights took place in narrow cramped corridors with the big PCs horribly gimped and getting riddled by sneak attack damage. Of course, the wide tunnels were usually laid with traps, so by the end the PCs were scared to go anywhere. No place is safe in the goblin warren!

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #8: Owlie’s Lair

PART ONE

Last time, our delvers of Tallow’s Deep found that, much to their chagrin, leaving the mine would not be as easy as they had hoped. The goblins have barred the exit with a clever trap, effectively sealing the adventurers behind three stout iron bars. According to their gobber captive, the mechanism to remove the trap is located on the far side, in the entry room that leads to the exterior mound and monoliths known as Henge.

Six uneventful hours have passed and they now feel refreshed, currently huddled around a crackling fire in the cold, dripping depths of the dragon turtle lair. The monster’s corpse is still nearby on a slab of rock, and given the cold, preservative conditions of this place, the ranger Douvan is willing to cut a hunk of dead dragon meat from its bones and roast it over the fire. Tastes like chicken! (Tough, oily, chicken with a faint hint of goblin scrotum).

They discuss their options, and return time and again to the idea of leaving this cursed mine via the exit tunnel. But how? The druid Raven has miraculous powers of transformation and can wildshape into a mouse or some other innocuous creature and scout the exterior. But if she transforms to human again to active a lever or winch for the trap then she will be stuck in that form, and possibly have to contend with a regiment of goblins alone (assuming that the regiment is still there). They even debate releasing an animal from the Bag of Tricks into the room to sow confusion, but this will vary depending on whether it’s a bat or a bear, rat or ram.

After much debate, they decide to press on, not toward the exit which is almost certainly still barred, but deeper into the complex to round up nine more goblins for Balthazar of the Potion Emporium. It might be too late to meet today’s quota, but that is still their current mission, and it might be better than returning completely empty handed to incur his wrath. And according to their captive, there is an exit from the mines through the worg den somewhere “near Grishog,” a name they keep hearing more and more.

Blackjack the Pig Farmer is given control of their solitary goblin captive, and the scarred man is none too gentle with him. A few solid kicks in the gut keeps the little bugger complacent, and he is quickly gagged and hauled along. They leave the warm confines of the cave and plunge into the icy water, maneuvering toward the Limestone Staircase. Frigid water saps the strength from their bones, but only the druid Raven succumbs to the cold, her teeth chattering so much she can barely speak.

Merric and Douvan lead the way with the magic lantern hovering nearby, but it is the ranger who first hears the sound of a dislodged rock in the distance. His hand stays the halfling, and snuffing the lantern, Merric edges forward, his companions waiting for his report. He rounds the corner and sees the Limestone Staircase, and at the top, illuminated by several ruddy torches…are three goblin masons busy rebuilding the wall.

They’re on the inside of the wall, the trap side, busily laying down mismatched bricks and sloppy layers of cement. Licking his lips, Merric hunkers down and begins to climb the slick steps, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. He stealthfully evades their notice and presses his back to the cavern wall. The goblins have rebuilt half of the barrier in the 6 hours the heroes rested, probably to make sure no other monster could come slithering out of the darkness. After all, the goblins don’t know the aboleth is dead, and they may or may not have ever known about the dragon turtle at all.

Merric calls upon his knowledge of wizardry and summons a translucent Mage Hand, pulling wet bricks from their slots atop the wall. Goblin curses follow, and the halfling secretly snickers at their agitation. After four or five bricks have clattered down the stairwell, a bewildered goblin finally hops over to take a closer look and instead gets a close look at the pointy end of Merric’s dagger.

SNICK!

The halfling slashes and misses, but a follow-up arrow from Douvan catches the goblin in the throat. Blood spurts from its neck and it topples down the stairs into the water. Meanwhile, Blackjack has ascended the stairs to aid Merric. The two remaining goblins are caught by surprise, and despite their attempt to ward off the enemy with cement-slathered dowels, they’re quickly dispatched. Blackjack heads down the tunnel to investigate while Douvan tries his legwork on the slippery staircase…and fails. Partway up his feet whip out from under him and he painfully clatters to the bottom.

Meanwhile, Blackjack hunkers down and inspects the Spiked Water Trap where numerous spears jabbed at them before. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and calls upon his Savage Intuition, but detects no foes in the immediate vicinity. For the moment, as far as he can tell, the trap is unmanned. The dragon turtle shell has been removed as well, hauled to the far end of the chamber so they can’t use that to clamber across as they did last time. No fear, the group manages to traverse the staircase with few injuries, and with Blackjack leading the way, they cross the trap in safety.

There is only one route they have not thoroughly inspected, the split tunnel past the hidden goblin door by the Spawning Pool. Merric leads the way, and they soon find themselves in familiar territory. The tunnel is wider here, enough for the humans to stand comfortably, with a wide corridor stretching west and a narrow goblin tunnel bearing east.

Merric checks west first and sees an archway leading into a long, wide chamber roughly 30’x 40’. There is an open passageway at the far end. Immediately suspicious, they decide to check the oily floor instead from the last time they came this way chasing a small goblin. The east goblin tunnel is the same as before, and they peer down the slope to the door at the bottom. Nothing has changed. Merric peeks in the goblin door.

A cramped tunnel slopes upward, winding into darkness. His lantern cannot reveal much more than crudely dug stone walls. Merric advances with Douvan close behind, ducking his head once again to enter these damnable burrows. About fifty feet later the tunnel levels off and splits east and west. The west route dead ends, the east route expanding into darkness beyond range of his light. Inspecting the west tunnel first, Merric easily finds a concealed goblin door. Wiping sweaty palms together, he gently presses his ear to the door and listens, detecting the faint rattle of bone dice, muttered jeers and curses and callous goblin language he cannot understand. Taking a gamble, Merric very, very carefully presses the door open and peeks inside…

…and is not pleased with what he sees.

Well over a dozen goblins archers loiter on the perimeter of what looks like a false ceiling above the chamber below. The “floor” is really canvas concealing two huge iron gates designed to swing down and block the exits. If the party had entered the room underneath they would have been trapped with dozens of archers concentrating their fire. The goblins are on low alert, playing dice, drinking mead and otherwise not paying attention. Merric slowly closes the door.

So, the other direction then.

The light from the magic lantern reveals narrow steps, and neither Merric nor Douvan can find any concealed exits along this hall. The others have advanced, and Merric tells them that a formidable group of goblins waits to the west, so they must exercise extreme caution and silence. Merric smells rotten meat and offal before he reaches the bottom of the steps, and upon rounding around the corner, he sees the source…

 

[Nebulous]

Also love the burger thing-that's a neat touch.

Oh, i should mention that the burger-thing was an idea taken from an old 1e short adventure called "Steaks". I forget which book it was in, some compilation of different scenarios. Anyway, the premise was a mystery where the PCs had to discover where this chef was getting his special "steaks", and the showdown at the end featured the PCs locked in a warehouse fighting said meat-product (i think one of the options was a purple worm or something that regenerated flesh). When i ran it many years ago in a solo with my brother i used fomorian giants. Anyway, i just adapted that premise here and slapped it on as a bookend plot to Tallow's Deep.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #8: Owlie's Lair

PART TWO

A large, feathery beast slumbers in the middle of a dirty straw nest. It’s as large as a bear and sports mangy brown fur interspersed with the feathers. Merric instantly knows what it is…an owlbear! A vicious predatory beast at home in the woodlands. What’s it doing down here? The monster is too large to squeeze through the tunnels (and there is a second goblin tunnel exiting the lair), so either it was raised here since a baby or there is a secret exit.

Douvan and Merric tell the others about what they have found, but rather than risk the others waking the monster, the thief and ranger decide to combine their attacks and try to coup de grace the owlbear before it notices them.

Merric advances first, his breath hitched in his lungs, daggers oily in his palms, and he’s raising the blade to strike when his foot lands on a desiccated bone.

CCCRACK.

The owlbear’s yellow eye snaps open, glaring at Merric only a few feet away. The halfing smiles feebly and PLUNGES his dagger into the monster’s back! Screams of agony reverberate through the room, and then the thing is thrashing and scuffling to its feet. Douvan leans around the corner and sends two arrows zipping at the enraged target, but only one connects. The owlbear’s hide is tough and easily shrugs off blows, and now enraged, the monster rushes Merric, its deadly talons slicing back and forth.

Merric ducks, ducks again, and scrambles backward into the goblin tunnel, a squeal of terror escaping his lips. The owlbears dives after him, cruelly raking his leg, but with an impressive Sly Flourish, Merric dives between the monster’s legs as it crams its head and shoulder into the small hole…and finds itself only a few feet from a shocked Douvan.

Meanwhile, Raven, Nari-lana, Jolen, Blackjack and his prisoner have advanced upon hearing the commotion, but the druid readies a magic spell in case anyone enters from the goblin door. Blackjack is farthest away in the tunnel, wrangling his captive with sharp blows to the back of the head to keep him subdued. The swordmage is in the main tunnel now, split between aiding her allies and countering whatever threat comes through the door. And that threat doesn’t take long to answer.

A bewildered goblin archer throws upon the door, immediately spying three intruders. Unfortunately for it, a Flame Seed arcs from Raven’s hand, exploding in its face in a hot flash of light. Reeling, the goblin survives the attack, trying to swat the flames out, but the area around him is hissing and smoldering with residual energy. No other goblin is willing to enter the conflagration.

The goblin archer can still take aim at Nari-lana though, and since the swordmage is already hampered by the tunnel, the arrow easily finds its target. Nari-lana retaliates with her own magic, and Jolen tosses a ray of light as well. Raven tries to follow up with a second Flame Seed, but her aim is off and the missile impacts harmlessly even as the former seed burns out, allowing the goblins egress through the flames. Things are getting hairy as Douvan and Merric contend with the owlbear all alone and the others deal with the glut of goblin archers flooding the tunnel from the west. The beast has pulled itself from the hole, and since Merric is the only viable target, it ruthlessly charges him. A horrendous swipe of its claws bloodies the rouge, who knows he doesn’t stand a chance with this thing at close range. He ducks and rolls, narrowly missing an opportunity attack, and rushes down an unexplored goblin tunnel to safety (safe from the owlbear at least). From here he can throw his enchanted, returning dagger.

That leaves Douvan and Jolen to contend with the beast, and the ranger keeps firing arrows at the monster as Merric distracts it with ranged attacks. Jolen summons a powerful Spiritual Blade, a glowing manifestation of his faith in Tempus that also jabs and hacks at the feathery abomination (and grants combat advantage to the rogue, which is a huge plus).

[GM Note: the party’s goal is to clear out the monster’s lair to hole up for a defensive position in a large room, rather than getting butchered in the goblin tunnels].

In the hallway, Raven decides to transform into a wolf and maul the nearest goblin. These are not pushover minions but rather stalwart artillery, plugging the hole and raining a constant barrage of sharp barbs on anyone in sight. Raven savages the nearest enemy, tearing it down in a squealing pile of twisted limbs and blood.

Raven transforms back to human and tries to flee down the tunnel, but it has become a deadly gauntlet. More goblins keep firing and moving, firing and moving, and in sudden succession, three arrows in a row strike the druid.

She stumbles and collapses, dying.

Douvan, Jolen and Merric are having a hard time as well. The owlbear is TOUGH, taking a tremendous beating but not going down. Its hideous screech rings in their ears (they narrowly avoid its Bloodied reactive attack), but up to now they’ve managed to evade the worst of its assault…until Douvan is finally snagged by both horrid claws. The ranger is drawn into a crushing bearhug, despite how much he writhes against the monster’s strength. Swords in hand, he stabs at the beast, trying to relinquish its grip, but the owlbear is undaunted and its serrated beak opens wide, wider, even WIDER, and clamps onto Douvan’s shoulder, shredding through armor and muscle to scrape across bone.

Douvan screams in terrible pain, barely lingering, but he still cannot escape the creature’s grasp. The hungry maw opens again, preparing to rip the man to pieces. Jolen calls upon the healing powers of his deity and fills the ranger with rejuvenation, but it might be enough to save his life…

Back in the hallway, Nari-lana thinks quickly and pours a healing potion down Raven’s throat after she fails her first death saving throw. Sputtering, the druid rises to her feet, but she’s hardly out of danger. Arrows zip over her head or tangle in her cloak, any one of which could drop her again. She has to escape.

Nari-lana advances on a goblin with a resounding crack of thunder from her spellsword, splintering the rock at her foe’s feet and knocking it prone. The goblin fires from the ground but misses, and that brief moment is all Nari-lana needs to finish it off. Four formidable goblins are still clogging the hallway, with more bustling at the entrance, jeering, hooting and cackling.

Jolen has cast a spell with secondary damage to slay the owlbear, but just as its maw opens to eviscerate Douvan once and for all, the glowing Spiritual Weapon dives into the monster’s armpit, skewering its heart in a geyser of dark warm blood. It keels over, dragging the terribly injured ranger with it.

In the hallway, Nari-lana and Blackjack cope with the archers as best they can while Raven retreats. Numerous arrows are still pinging off walls and armor, and it’s a desperate moment until Jolen surges into the hall and yells:

“FALL BACK! NOW!”

He sends the Spiritual Weapon eerily gliding ahead to contend with the goblins, and it does so with ruthless efficiency.

Nari-lana, Raven and Blackjack all flee, the latter dragging the prisoner with him, still kicking and whining under the gag. The hallway is filled with five dead archers, and Merric watches the goblin door close, as if whoever is beyond does not want to deal with the heroes. Yet.

Everyone stumbles into the owlbear’s cave with only the cleric Jolen unijured. He quickly begins applying his skills to aid his allies. Raven and Douvan nearly perished, and everyone else has been hurt as well. They tend to their wounds, bandaging themselves and taking a moment to catch their breath. That was a difficult fight, and they have no idea what lies in the tunnel behind them. Could the goblins be flanking them even as they wait? They quickly take stock of the situation and peer down into the dark recesses of the corridor, wondering what lies in wait…

And there we stopped.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #9: Skull Crusher

After defeating the vitriolic owlbear and the elite goblin archers, the party has retreated to the owlbear’s lovely nest. The stinking, dirty straw does not hide much besides refuse and cracked bones, but Douvan does find a non-enchanted mithril necklace nestled at the bottom. They did not kill EVERY goblin behind them, but the survivors closed the door and have not pursued them so far. That, at least, is a good thing.

Their goblin prisoner, whose name they’ve never asked (or cared about), has crouched at the dead owlbear’s side, petting its bloodied feathers and quietly mumbling, “Poor Owlie, poor Owlie…” Some pet it was, the vicious monster, but then Raven the druid notices white chalk scribbled on the wall in goblin tongue: it is an age and height meter, starting at 6 months, to a year, to two years, etc, measuring the owlbear’s growth. But Blackjack could care less and punches the goblin in the back of the head and wrenches him to his feet. Whimpering, the prisoner begrudgingly complies, staring dagger of hate at his captors.

An unexplored goblin tunnel exits this chamber, and no other way can be found besides backtracking, so Merric takes the enchanted lantern and heads northward down the cramped passageway, dagger in hand. The others wait for him to return with a report.

Now, Merric is glad he can assist his comrades, but he is feels none too safe creeping alone yet again into dark, trapped goblin tunnels. He continues nevertheless for another fifty feet or so until the tunnel branches west and continues north. The west passage opens up into a room about ten feet high, with eight arrow slits embedded in the north wall, although no one is manning them. The halfing continues on past this room for a ways, finally coming upon a small twenty foot by ten foot chamber. A number of holes are dug in the wall, with stone platforms, like seats, embedded near the higher holes. In the center of the floor is an unconcealed wooden trapdoor. Not wanting to progress any further alone, and to aid his search, he returns and tells his comrades what he found.

They all advance, methodically poking and prodding walls for hidden doors which so often lie upon the path.

The first room they inspect is actually the back half of the spawning pool trap, where they were ambushed several sessions ago. There are no goblins here now, possibly having retreated to the False Ceiling Room to wait for their arrival. There is a single concealed goblin door exiting this chamber, and when Merric presses it open, he finds a small unadorned chamber with winch and chain pulley system that rises into the ceiling. They’re not sure what the purpose of this device is, but Merric does not take any chances and disables it anyway.

[GM Note: Jeff, you actually disabled this trap earlier last session by hammering pitons into the cracks; it lowers a stone wall. There were tell-tale scuff marks on the walls in an adjacent tunnel].

The last room they find, with the trapdoor in the floor, is the infamous Watery Spike trap from the goblin’s vantage point. Three times the PCs have traversed this trap, the first of which they were grievously impaled by goblin spearmen hiding behind the walls. Merric opens the trapdoor, and hearing nothing, creeps down a ladder. The goblin tunnel levels out and runs underneath the trap, popping up in an adjacent chamber where the goblins could flank anyone between them. But no goblins are here, just their crude spears nestled in the corners, which Merric promptly shoves through the holes in the wall so they can’t be used again.

They have searched everywhere they can think of, save for the door at the end of the downward slanting slick tunnel, but that reeks of a trap they would rather leave alone.

[GM Note: What the hell, I’ll go ahead and tell you; you slide along the ramp, the door hinges at the top, you bump through like dirty laundry thrown down a chute and fall into a deep maze of rat swarms…or worse…Muwa-hahahahahah!].

That leaves one viable route, the False Ceiling room where dozens of archers were congregated, although the party has significantly thinned their ranks. Ultimately, the group decides to split up, Prong A and Prong B, and flank the goblins on the top level and bottom level. Douvan, Nari-lana and Jolen scuttle down the goblin tunnels and emerge at the lower area, where they can now see that the “ceiling” of the room is actually canvas disguised as rock. Merric, Blackjack, and Raven position themselves behind the upper level goblin door, ready to pop out and hopefully surprise any foes. Gripping their weapons in tight palms, the two groups coordinate as best they can and BURST into their respective chambers!

But there are no goblins.

Especially on the upper level, where previously there were many foes left. They must have departed through…the archway?

Yes, there is an archway across from Merric that he did not notice on his prior surveillance of this room. He, Raven and Blackjack enter, circumventing the canvas floor and the raised iron gates. To the east lies an alcove with two winches and pulleys that operate the gate trap. Licking his lips, Merric spends a few minutes tinkering with the mechanism, and thinks he manages to rig it so that only the fake canvas will drop, and not the actual gates themselves. They never know when they might have to fall back to this point for an advantageous position.

Below, Nari-lana scouts ahead to the exit, but just sees a ten foot wide corridor stretching ahead and then bearing left. She does not advance any further, and they return to the top level with their comrades.

Merric and Raven peek into the western corridor on the top level once all the companions are reunited. They hear dripping water and a cool breeze ruffles their hair.

Oh no, not another aboleth lair!

Douvan and Merric poke forward and soon find a dark room where the floor abruptly drops into a black pool of water fifteen feet below. Dangling near the ledge is a crude wooden cage, large enough to fit five or six human-sized occupants. The cage is attached to a rope and pulley system that stretches across the entire chamber, and then Merric realizes he has seen this cage before…but from the goblin’s perspective. In a secret room to the sourth there are two gaff hooks that can be stretched out to snag the rope, most likely disabling the line and plunging the wooden cage into the water. Fortunately, Merric broke the hooks in case they ever chanced upon this room later on.

And then they hear water sloshing down below.

The bright lantern reveals an agitated maggot-white worm slithering in the water, coiling and uncoiling, a massive fanged eel of uncertain lethalness, but it sure ain’t pretty.

After searching for alternative secrets exits everywhere, and finding none, they decide to backtrack and head down through the False Ceiling room and venturing onward, searching for the worg den that, according to their reluctant prisoner, offers escape from this terrible warren.

The tunnel bends east, and soon Nari-lana and Douvan see a stone staircase winding up, up, up. They all pause, really, really not liking the looks of this.

At the base of the stairwell lies a pile of dilapidated mining equipment and shattered crates.

“You…goblin, come ‘ere,” growls Blackjack, and jerks on the rope tethered to the goblin’s waist. The heroes decide to send their prisoner first, hopefully to trigger any traps that might be weight sensitive, and to make sure their foul-spirited prisoner is heavy enough, they attach rusted shovels, crowbars, and broken pick-axes to his body. Staggering under the excess weight, the miserable goblins clambers up the first step, his yellow legs wobbling, and with an exasperated wheeze, clambers up again. Merric volunteers to hold onto the rope, lest their prisoner get too far ahead and out of sight. Staying about ten feet back, Merric cautiously follows, eyes and ears alert to danger…

…and then Merric sees himself.

But a blurry, poorly-focused version of himself, just his face really, reflected back from a grainy mirror attached to the end of a pole that’s poking from a hidden alcove.

“There’s a—” Merric begins, but failing his initiative roll, the halfling can only watch in delayed horror as flames WHOOSH and light bursts from ahead. A large, flaming boulder is pushed out and immediately careens off the wall, barreling down at Merric and Nari-lana who were not but a few steps away. The prisoner, however, had just crossed the threshhold of the alcove, but the rope tethered to his waist cannot dodge the rocky ball of fire, and squealing, he’s jerked back, tumbling painfully down the stairs after the rogue and swordmage.

The boulder, thoroughly doused in flammable oil, is a terrible trap. It slams into Merric, bowling him off his feet and hurling him down the steps, his clothing catching on fire. Nari-lana is likewise swept away, while Douvan narrowly misses the boulder’s trajectory at the bottom of the staircase. It slams into the wall with a thunderous crack, showering sparks and greasy smoke in all directions.

Prone and burning, Merric and Nari-lana roll around in pain (both suffering severe damage and ongoing Fire), as Jolen, Raven and Douvan decide what to do. Their prisoner is squirming under all the weight of the tools attached to his body and can’t stand up. Merric leaps up, failing to pat out the flames, and decides to push the fight to the goblins anyway. He springs up the steps, a tiny, smoldering, angry little man, and leaps into the alcove where two goblins have failed to make an escape.

Merric viciously stabs a goblin through the breastbone, killing it instantly, and turns his ire to the other who is trying to defend itself with a pole and torch. Douvan and Nari-lana jog up the stairs to help Merric, but by the time they’re there the halfling has already skewered the second goblin, splattering black blood on the walls.

Fortunately for Merric, his position in the alcove saves him from the second burning boulder pushed out from another alcove (and Douvan fails to spot the mirror slyly watching their progress up the stairs.

“Look out!” shouts Douvan, but then the boulder is in their midst, blasting across the ranger, swordmage and druid, a fiery conflagration of sticky oil.

[GM Note: I rolled 3 critical hits this encounter, so the PCs were taking high damage and failed consistently to save against ongoing damage].

All three heroes are knocked down to the base of the steps again, bloodied, bruised and burning.

Merric leaps deftly from one alcove to the next, but his swing misses, and the goblin retaliates with a vicious whack to Merric’s head with its torch.

Jolen uses Healing Word on Douvan, who has been hurt fairly badly by the boulders, but at one point or another nearly everyone is Bloodied during the encounter. Merric quickly dispatches the last goblin, and taking time to pat out of their flames and gain a breather, the group composes themselves and carefully ascends the last third of the stairwell, cautious of any more projectiles.

A dark tunnel bends northward, and they detect the flicker of torchlight. But soon afterward they hear the deep thrum of drums pounding somewhere in the inexplicable darkness of the goblin warrens, a war beat of unrelenting terror. The group files along, Blackjack tugging his miserable prisoner who is just barely clinging to life after being pummeled so much. The tunnel winds in an S-shape and ends at an open portcullis that accesses an extremely large, mostly empty room that fills them with dread.

 

[C_M2008]

The fun room! Yay! I'm sure the players will love it.

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #9: Skull Crusher

PART TWO

The tiled floor is littered with dozens of shattered skeletons, remnants of some old battle perhaps. Or worse. Eighty feet away at the opposite side a gaping tunnel mouth leads out of the room. Roughly twenty torches ring the chamber, so it is fairly well lit, although the ceiling is wreathed in shadows, so it must be very high as well. No one is willing to step inside, but Blackjack pushes their prisoner a few steps ahead, still tethered and tied down with mining implements.

Raucous goblin laughter echoes throughout the room, and then they notice twenty murder holes on the south wall, ten on the bottom, ten on the top, as if the goblins are elevated on two separate levels. Douvan is standing near the entrance, and happens to look up with the light from the lantern, visibly paling as he sees what actually lurks on the ceiling…

…dozens and dozens of heavy boulders dangling from rope satchels.

This room is a deathtrap.

“What is this? How do we get across?” snarls Douvan, grabbing the goblin prisoner’s throat.

“Skull…Crusher…arena…” the thing chokes out, jabbing a yellow-nailed finger at the opposite exit. “Only…way…out…”

The group cannot believe they have to pass through here. There’s no way they can survive the gauntlet, especially since a portcullis on the opposite side will most likely come crashing down and trap them between a barrage of arrows and boulders. First, Merric climbs on Douvan’s shoulders and jams the portucullis over their heads, and then they decide to retreat and return to the Eel Room and Cage. Maybe, just maybe, there is a way to find an alternative route around this problem. Jerking their prisoner down the steps, they wind back to the cusp of the ledge. The cage is still there, and there’s no evidence the goblins passed this way. In fact, there is no evidence the goblins use this route at all as it may be purely a trap to waylay “Big Folk.”

They debate how to cross over the room without having to mess with the eel or the cage, and finally Merric (the ever-resourceful Thief) decides to put his Acrobatics to the test. Knotting a rope to his waist and slipping it over the pulley in a loose cinch, he carefully perches on the rope, wobbling back and forth, and tightrope walks to the far side, arms outstretched for balance. The albino eel sloshes back and forth but no halfling morsel falls into its hungry mouth, and soon Merric has hopped off onto the far ledge.

But now he’s isolated from his friends, and in a pinch there is no one to help him.

Merric advances down a dark tunnel, soon hearing the rush of water. The tunnel ends at a natural ledge overlooking a torrential river flow, and the halfling deduces that this is the same river from which the River Trap is siphoned.

Can this possibly offer a means of escape from the warren? The water is moving fast, dashing over concealed boulders and perilous pools, rushing ever onward into the gods know where. A Water Walking ritual might give them some advantage, but likely not enough. Discouraged, Merric returns and tells the others what he found.

So then, back to the Skull Crusher, and along the way they desperately begin forging a new plan. The two alcoves in the stairwell chimney are ransacked, yielding a half-barrel of oil, but no secret exits. They all return to the entrance of the Skull Crusher, still unwilling to step inside, although their prisoner is shoved out again to the rollicking laughter of cruel goblins who are amused at their brethren’s fate.

Plans turn again to Raven’s miraculous powers of transformation, and in an act of desperation, they try something completely untested. Raven strains her small arms and picks up the largest boulder they can find, and then calling upon her potent magic, transforms into a mouse before she drops the stone. It works! The magic warps and condenses the boulder into her mouse form, although barely.

[GM Note: This was a generous ad-hoc ruling that was rewarded mostly because it was clever, and it felt old school to me, using magic in weird ways above and beyond what the power card dictates. Umm…but the more I think about it, if she was encumbered, the little mousy might have been encumbered too. And FAT].

But what is the goal of this boulder/mouse scheme? They need to get someone across the Skull Crusher Arena unseen and prop open the portcullis at the opposite end. If the goblins drop it, if there even IS a portcullis there, the boulder is sufficiently large enough to allow them to squeeze underneath.

Raven begins her mission by scampering into the room and hugging the wall, an innocuous gray rodent skirting through the dirt. She only has a limited amount of time before her magic fails and she returns to human form, but she plans to make the most of it. Raven scuttles underneath the far archway and sees the pointed tines of a portcullis housed above. She continues, moving as fast as she can down a goblin tunnel that bends and twists. She sees an open goblin door and a number of goblins inside, many of whom are breathlessly waiting in anticipation to activate levers and pulleys that will unleash the boulders on anyone stepping into the room. She scuttles even further down the tunnel, pressing her luck, knowing that the seconds are ticking away and she must return to the portcullis to unleash the boulder to prop it up. If not, she could easily be cut off from reinforcements and suffer at the mercy of the goblins (who have no mercy).

Her roaming takes her to a wide corridor decidedly larger than the goblin burrows. A huge, open portcullis lies before her, allowing entrance to a wide natural cavern. She sees a burning bonfire, tall stalagmites, and in the distance beyond, basking in the ruddy glow, a hideous skull throne. The skull is as large as a giant, and seated on the throne is a small round goblin wearing a crown.

East of this throne chamber is a closed wooden door, and to the west the passage continues. Pushing her luck even further, Raven the Mouse runs down the passage toward the acrid smell of incense and a warm fiery glow…and stops when she sees where it’s coming from…

The goblin’s god Maglubiyet in all of his terrible glory. The idol is twenty feet tall, cradling a burning brazier in its arms. Huge ruby eyes twinkle evilly in the light, and the stench of death and spices lingers heavily in the room, along with…

…wet dog fur?

Yes, as their captive told them, the exit to the warrens lies through the worg den, but even that is surely difficult to bypass. But Raven travels no further. She can feel the magic waning. She runs back, even as her legs begin to elongate, her mousy nose starts twitching and the whiskers fall out, her paws stretch and fingernails poke through the fur, and just as she has returned to the first gate she abruptly transforms into full size, grasping the heavy boulder that rolls out right beneath the portcullis!

But her arrival does not go unseen, neither from her friends eighty feet away or the watchful goblin archers behind the murder holes.

Their frustrated cries echo out, and seconds after the boulder has rolled to a standstill the portcullis drops! It is halted a foot or so off the ground, and Raven rushes down the tunnel to meet any oncoming resistance.

Her companions see what happened and this is when they enact part two of their plan: burning down the ceiling of boulders. While Raven has been scouting, the rest of the party has been dousing arrows in cloth and oil. Douvan Stahl lets loose with a barrage of flaming barbs, aiming for the rope satchels holding the boulders above them. A hit! Flames lick up, and soon the blackened threads will be too weak to hold the rock’s weight.

But they’re not shooting every boulder, just the ones along the path nearest to the wall which has the fewest rocks. Arrows start arcing out from the murder holes, but most miss their marks on heroes still huddling in the entrance. The portcullis over their heads creaks, but the rogue has successfully prevented it from falling with some well placed pitons.

Douvan is the first to enter the gauntlet. He presses himself into the southeast corner, momentarily free from arrow fire. Acrid black smoke is wafting around the room, and then with a snap! the first two boulders slip from their bonds and crash to the floor. This creates some difficult terrain to crawl over, but nothing insurmountable. Altogether about ten boulders are targeted with burning pitch, and soon the ceiling is awash in flames as the rope tethers burn.

But Raven is having her own problems. She was spotted and already a goblin has popped out from the door to find her…but finds a Flame Seed instead. The burning projectile explodes in its face, killing the minion in a instant. Its body crumples as the flames consume him, and then the flames splatter around in a wide berth. Goblins inside the room shield their faces, terrified to advance into the heat. Smiling, Raven cradles another seed in her hand and prepares for a magical barrage.

But just about then she hears a familiar, eerie howl echoing from elsewhere in the complex. The sound sends chills rippling down her spine. It is a worg, and it can’t be far away.

Meanwhile, Merric, Douvan, Nari-lana, Jolen and Blackjack are maneuvering across the room, trying to stay close to the wall where the archers can’t target them, and staying away from any boulders above. But they haven’t made it terribly far when the floor suddenly drops beneath their prisoner’s feet! The goblin squeals and plummets, but he’s snagged by the rope Blackjack is holding and hauled back up.

So not only are there archers and portcullises and boulders, there are also deep spike traps randomly dispersed across the arena. Wonderful.

Their prisoner inadvertently triggers another trap, teetering at the edge until he’s yanked away. But the heroes are perilously close to the wall, and where arrows won’t reach, swords will. Jolen is suddenly jabbed at multiple times, but the blades are deflected by his armor. The cleric of Tempus is angered by this and shows his displeasure by lighting one of the four “Molotov cocktails” they rigged with the leftover flammable oil. A wick has been thrust down an emptied wine bottle, and Jolen gleefully shatters the bottle inside the closest murder hole.

Screams and flames erupt behind the wall as minions are lit on fire. Jolen throws another, and the melee attacks against them cease as goblins are either slain or flee the conflagration. Smoke is roiling out from the murder holes, and combined with the smoking boulders, Skull Crusher Arena is a hazy den of chaos.

Goblins start fleeing their posts behind the wall, but Raven the Druid has not been idle. Round after round after round she has targeted the front of the door, killing the same goblin over and over until he is little more than a blackened, charred crispy critter.

[GM Note: And too little too late, the group forgets to utilize the Bag of Tricks and maybe throw a LION in there!]

But the flames rage more than ever and it is a deadly exit for the goblins. Two of them try to escape anyway, but the flames stick to their legs, bringing them down when they have barely cleared the conflagration.

The others finally reach the west side of the arena after avoiding the final pit traps. Everyone squeezes under the portcullis and rejoin Raven, who is safe and sound, but extremely relieved that they have arrived. The goblins shut the door to the Lever Room, and if they don’t burn up or suffocate, the flames will eventually die out.

For now, the heroes take a moment to catch their breath and plan their next move. Raven tells them what she saw: the goblin on the giant throne, and the hideous statue of Maglubiyet with red ruby eyes.

Merric’s eyes twinkle when he hears about the statue, and he secretly wonders how hard it will be to pry those rubies out.

Next time, he might get his chance.

And there we stopped.

[GM Note: Not much left to Tallow’s Deep everyone. If we were keeping these characters you’d be leveling up to 6th after next session. Um…if you survive the next session!]

 

[Nebulous]

Adventure #10: Grishog's Gambit

With the dreadful Skull Crusher arena now behind them, the PCs have no choice but to advance. Smoke and flames roil from murder holes lining the arena, the goblins behind them most likely incinerated or suffocated by now. Raven has told everyone what her mousy scouting mission revealed: the massive throne room with the skull chair, and down a long hallway, a horrible idol of Maglubiyet, the vile goblin god, its eyes two huge sparkling rubies the size of a fist. Blackjack practically froths at the mouth when he hears about the rubies. The desperate goblins he captured for Balthazar weren’t lying about that after all…

Merric the halfing rogue advances first, daggers in hand, and peeks around the corner. The cramped tunnel widens ahead, but it is the room beyond that fills him with unease. Through the large portal he has clear line of sight to a roaring cauldron and bonfire, and behind that, a massive throne comprised of giant’s skulls. How or why the goblins killed giants and obtained their skulls is unknown, but unsettling.

Upon the throne sits a squat goblin wearing a crown, and at his left and right rest two regular wolves. A dozen other goblins are loosely gathered around him, all staring intently at Merric’s position. It will difficult if not impossible to sneak by without being noticed, assuming that they haven’t already. The goblins undoubtedly know they’re here after the Skull Crusher battle, even if no goblins escaped that conflict.

Merric scampers ahead, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, and inspects the large tunnel for traps. The entrance to the lair beyond lies through a huge black archway, housing an enormous iron portcullis within. Merric can see the sharp tines sticking down. Finding no traps, he steps out, aware that the goblins have seen him. They make no move, although some muttering does pass between them. Douvan Stahl advances also, trying to keep an eye on his little buddy (like Skipper and Gilligan!).

Down the hall to Merric’s right is a closed wooden door, but first, he carefully searches the tunnel for traps before blundering ahead. Douvan steps out also, and just about then the DRUMS start anew! A deep, rhythmic pounding that clearly emanates from the throne room, the goblin’s own little percussion band. The goblins have obviously seen him. The goblin on the throne stands up, holding a scepter aloft, and announces in a squeaky voice belying his office:

“I am the Great Grishog! Who dares invade my home? Only fools like you would come here to die!”

“Oh, very sorry…Great…Grishog,” says Douvan sourly. “I guess we’re just…fools.”

Douvan can’t help but notice that the goblin’s crown is a little too big for its head, keeps slipping down, only to be pushed back up with the scepter. In fact, the goblin doesn’t look particularly threatening at all. The PCs immediately suspect that this is just a decoy Grishog, with the real deal waiting in the wings.

Douvan and Merric soon find themselves at the door, and pressing his ear to it, Merric hears nothing. The others are tentatively exiting the goblin tunnel, wary of any sudden aggression from the goblins. The ranger tells Jolen, “Go roll a boulder down here, maybe we can prop this gate open like last time.” Blackjack and Jolen immediately run back to the Skull Crusher arena to find a stone large enough to work. It is difficult squeezing the boulder through the tunnel and it takes a minute or two of heavy lifting, pulling and grunting.

Meanwhile, Merric finds no traps on the door so he gently opens it. Inside, stairs wind down into what looks like a natural cavern room, but green slime infests the chamber, dripping from the ceiling, sliding down the walls, forming puddles on the floor amid heaps of garbage, bones and refuse dissolving under its greenish touch. The room is nasty and stinking, so Merric quickly shuts the door.

That leaves the opposite route, the tunnel that leads down to the shrine of Maglubiyet and the worg den, but then Douvan detects the sound of metal grating on stone, and the distinct clang of a portcullis dropping. Most likely, any exit from the shrine has just been blocked off. The goblins obviously want the heroes to enter the throne room, and they’ve set a trap, the last in a long line of devious traps. Merric peeks around the corner to verify the closed gate, and sure enough, about eighty feet away he sees an iron portcullis in the ruddy glow of torches.

“Come to me now!” says ‘Grishog.’ “Come and fight—and DIE— like the warriors you claim to be!”

“You come to us instead!” counters Douvan, stalling for time while Blackjack and Jolen roll the boulder down the tunnel. It’s about four feet across; large enough to give them room to slide under the gate if the portcullis is dropped.

The heroes inspect the large chamber as much as possible, but from their position there is no way to see what might be lurking to the left and right. The chamber is large and deep, featuring a number of tall stalagmites and massive heaps of boulders that obscure line of sight to the deepest recesses of the room. It is from these unseen areas that the drumming emanates.

BOOM! BOOM! B-BOOM! DOOM! BOOM! BOOM! B-BOOM! DOOM!

Douvan finally decides to notch an arrow and send it zinging into the room. It pierces a wolf, and when it leaps up, howling in pain, the ranger quickly drops it with another arrow. That’s it, the fight is on, and the goblins clustered around “Grishog” instantly spring into motion. But Douvan is faster than they are, and he gets a bead on Grishog, sending an arrow whistling through the air to sink into his shoulder.

“Agh! Oooh! Dat hurts!” Grishog rolls off the throne, squealing like a stuck pig, and tries to crawl to safety, as any brave goblin leader would do. A dozen goblins rush the heroes, their scimitars and axes clanging off piecemeal armor and rusty spikes, growls of hatred on their lips.

Raven the druid immediately tosses a Flame Seed at the nearest foe, but the goblin does not die immediately. Flames lick up its legs, blackening its flesh under the armor as it screams and begs for mercy. Douvan keeps firing arrows, dropping a goblin with a barb through its eye, and Jolen immolates another with a blast of holy radiance, thoroughly purging the faith of Maglubiyet from his enemy with an example of Tempus’s superior might.

The enemies are not terribly difficult to dispatch, but then the HOWLS erupt from the back of the chamber, and two massive worg riders appear atop the rubble mounds, accompanied by dozens and dozens and dozens of more goblins, a chattering horde of the little buggers all armed to the teeth.

In the back row, Blackjack, Merric, and Nari-lana cannot do much while their allies deal with the goblins. But then arrows start zipping down from an unsuspected angle: above them!

Two goblins stand atop the flat stalagmite pillars. Their line of sight is very narrow to the heroes beyond the arch, but Douvan and Blackjack are both nearly hit. The ranger retaliates with his own shot, clipping one of the archers but not bringing it down. By now, Merric the Rogue has been ineffectual for quite some time and decides he is going to enter the battle. He dives into the room and quickly runs for the stalagmite, provoking attacks from two more archers, and upon reaching the backside he sees a ladder leading all the way to the top. Sliding a dagger between his teeth, Merric starts to climb…

Meanwhile, the goblins have not been idle. The worg riders gallop around the boulders, and now dozens of enemies surge toward the heroes. Furthermore, a new foe enters the battlefield near the bone throne, holding a glowing bastard sword above his head. This must no doubt be the real Grishog. His worg is a massive scarred beast, its jowls already slathered in fresh blood. He is not alone either as even more goblins surround his position, waving their swords and bows.

Goblin voices rise in unison, a chant that reverberates throughout the entire cavern:

“GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG!”

Worgs howl, goblins scream, and the mass of enemies rush the gate. Grishog remains on his perch above the battlefield, observing his troops swooping in for the kill.

Raven the druid has been throwing a constant barrage of Fire Seeds in front of the entry, barring most goblins from getting too close. Of the initial wave, nearly all are dead, but the second wave is charging in fast, led by the two brutal worg riders. But then the party hears NEW howls. Douvan also hears a gate opening, and they know that within seconds enemies will be released from the worg den and they’ll be flanked on two sides. Jolen calls upon the strength of Tempus and summons a Spiritual Weapon, guiding it to attack anything that approaches from the north. And just about then two ravenous worgs spin around the corner and charge, their teeth bared in a vicious snarl…

All this time Blackjack’s goblin prisoner is still tethered to this waist, but the goblin is pulling the line away as far as it can and trying to gnaw through it.

Blackjack and Nari-lana meet the slavering threat head on, but the worg’s jaws clamp onto Blackjack, tossing him back and forth like a ragdoll. He staggers up, severely wounded, and keeps fighting. The worgs are big enough though that they can’t maneuver past one another, so at the very least the heroes only have to deal with one at a time. Likewise, the portcullis only twelve feet wide at best, and now a boulder is planted in the middle, making it even harder to navigate. Given the circumstances, it is difficult for the PCs to get surrounded.

Merric finally reaches the top of the stalagmite he’s been climbing and mercilessly severs the goblin’s Achilles tendon. It screams in agony and nearly staggers off to its doom, but manages to catch itself at the last moment, its cracked fingernails scrabbling for purchase. Merric takes its place and surveys the chaos below.

A strange aura of shifting green mist has appeared, and Merric recalls seeing something similar attack them once near the goblin prison. Around ten goblins are hunkering within, and in the wake of these mists follows a goblin hexer, chanting in his foul tongue and pointing a bone scepter at the vexing cloud. But Nari-lana steps closer to toss a Fire Seed at the goblins, and their bunched position proves to be their downfall, concealment or not. Flames explode around them, and as they attempt to flee the conflagration, in moments there is nothing left of that particular unlucky troop. Grinding his teeth in anger, the goblin hexer prepares a new strategy…and targets the druid.

[GM Note: I don’t know what I was thinking; the concealment bonus isn’t sufficient enough that they wouldn’t get pounded anyway; I was hoping they would have made it a lot closer].

Raven feels a magical compulsion stealing over her eyes, but she manages to resist. Unfortunately, she is not fast enough to resist the blades of BOTH worg riders that have converged on her, nor the stinging barbs of two more archers on stalagmites above the battlefield. Cold steel hacks into the druid, buffeting her left and right, and she is barely alive as the enemies raise their weapons for another assault.

Raven retreats, staggering to the back line and tries to heal herself. Unfortunately, the goblin hexer watches her escape route, and this time the hex works: scales grow over her eyelids and the druid finds herself completely blinded. She claws at the new flesh, trying to peel it away.

Atop the stalagmite, Merric tosses his enchanted dagger down, the one that returns, but then he finds the pesky goblin trying to grab his leg! Merric shakes it off, and plants the dagger in the thing’s shoulder. It shrieks and lets go, falling, falling, falling…and impales itself on a smaller stalagmite at the bottom amid a bloom of dark blood.

In the hallway, Blackjack and Nari-lana are having a tough time with the worg. The beast is relentless, and its demoralizing howl strikes fear into their hearts. Blackjack reels from numerous deep wounds, barely having the strength now to lift his blade and attack. Jolen keeps his glowing Spiritual Weapon nearby, but then the worg riders and the goblin minions are becoming too much of a threat as well, and he casts his second daily: Spectral Warrior.

The shimmering ethereal warrior appears under the portcullis, yet another deterrent to anyone trying to enter and flank them.

About then Raven’s vision returns, just in time for her to unleash Faerie Fire on the worg riders outside. Swirling light envelopes both of them, and the worgs rear up in surprise. [GM Note: This spell is a lot more dangerous than it ever was in past editions]. Furthermore, Jolen’s stalwart Spectral Warrior stands vigilant at the gate, lashing out at the worg riders if they linger too close.

By now Grishog decides that it is time to join the fight, so picking his way down the rocky slope, the fearsome goblin leader charges closer, ready to skewer anyone he can on the tip of his enchanted blade. Fortunately for the PCs, they’re not exactly in an easy spot to be skewered. Not yet, anyway.

The goblin hexer keeps throwing spells against the heroes, and quite fed up with it, Jolen casts Cause Fear at him…but the wily hexer grabs an adjacent ally by the scruff of his neck and intersperses him. Overcome with unnatural terror, the minion flees to the recesses of the chamber while the hexer giggles. It was that little trick that really pissed the party off, and it wasn’t the last time the hexer used it.

Back in the hallway, Blackjack the Pig Farmer finally meets his doom. The worg’s jaws clamp onto his neck to the grisly sound of cartilage splintering amid a gush of red blood, and the big man is brought down.

“My…rubies…” he gurgles, and dies, never even getting a chance to see the fabled shrine.

Nari-lana can handle the worg, but she reaches deep into her Bag of Tricks for only the second time, feels something warm and fuzzy and quivering, and pulls forth a ball of…rat. But not just one rat, but a swarm of rats, and at her psychic command, they immediately attack the worg, crawling all over it and biting. The worg howls in pain, and between the rats and Nari-lana’s spellsword, the monster is finally brought low. But the next worg in line jumps up, crawling over the steaming corpse of its ally, and without Blackjack around it targets the swordmage instead! Her rats attack immediately, scampering over its head and chewing the worg’s ears until they’re just tattered red bits of mangled flesh.

Out in the main arena, goblins are still dying left and right, and the PCs are holding up fairly well. A worg rider finally forces its way into the gate house, clambering over the boulder, ignoring the spectral warrior, and slams an axe into Douvan.

Merric clambers down the ladder, dropping when he’s about half way down and rolling up. His plan is to flank the wily goblin hexer and plant a sneak attack in its skull. But the hexer hears Merric approach! It spins, suffers justr a glancing glow, and then instantly retaliates with a chattering spell that Blinds the rogue. Howling with anticipation, an injured worg rider circles around, flanking the bewildered halfling between a rock and a hard place…

Merrics hears it breathing; he hears the creak of leather and smells the stinking fur and hot breath, and Merric knows he might be in more than a little trouble if his vision does not clear…for the hexer is beginning yet another spell….

Grishog shouts orders to his troops and his allies stick close to the walls, out of line of sight from the heroes behind the gate house, plotting their next move in an attempt to slay these troublesome intruders once and for all.

And there we stopped.

[GM Note: This was easily the largest fight I’ve run in 4e. It took a long time, but went pretty smoothly all things considered. Barricading yourselves behind the gate house was a smart move; if you had let yourself get surrounded it would have been fatal for a couple of you, maybe everyone. Next time, we wrap up this campaign arc!].