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4e Tallow's Deep
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<blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 4823093" data-attributes="member: 31465"><p><span style="font-size: 15px">Adventure #10: Grishog's Gambit</span></p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish1.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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…</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/fakegrishog.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish5.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish4.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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!). </p><p></p><p>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:</p><p></p><p>“I am the Great Grishog! Who dares invade my home? Only fools like you would come here to die!”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, very sorry…Great…Grishog,” says Douvan sourly. “I guess we’re just…fools.”</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish3.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>“Come to me now!” says ‘Grishog.’ “Come and fight—and DIE— like the warriors you claim to be!”</p><p></p><p>“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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>BOOM! BOOM! B-BOOM! DOOM! BOOM! BOOM! B-BOOM! DOOM!</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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! </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish6.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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…</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish7.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>Goblin voices rise in unison, a chant that reverberates throughout the entire cavern:</p><p></p><p>“GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG! GRISHOG!” </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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…</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish8.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish9.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish10.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p><span style="color: red"></span></p><p><span style="color: red">[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].</span></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish11.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish12.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>The shimmering ethereal warrior appears under the portcullis, yet another deterrent to anyone trying to enter and flank them. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish13.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish14.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p>“My…rubies…” he gurgles, and dies, never even getting a chance to see the fabled shrine. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish15.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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…</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish16.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>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….</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>And there we stopped.</p><p><span style="color: red"></span></p><p><span style="color: red">[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!]. </span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nebulous, post: 4823093, member: 31465"] [size=4]Adventure #10: Grishog's Gambit[/size] [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish1.jpg[/img] 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… [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish2.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/fakegrishog.jpg[/img] [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish5.jpg[/img] [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish4.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish3.jpg[/img] 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! [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish6.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish7.jpg[/img] 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… [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish8.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish9.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish10.jpg[/img] [color=red] [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].[/color] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish11.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish12.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish13.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish14.jpg[/img] 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. [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish15.jpg[/img] 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… [img]http://www.zikadik.com/silverymoon/grish16.jpg[/img] 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. [color=red] [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!]. [/color] [/QUOTE]
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