shadowlight
First Post
Also, nice map! The only think I don't like is that it distorts the scale, but it looks cool!
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Against the Goblinoids (Updated 9/22)
- Thread starter Desdichado
- Start date
Desdichado
Hero
Yeah, it's totally "stylized" not realistic. Still, that's probably more appropriate for the characters anyway. By the way, does Amanda have an account here? Is she making any changes to her character, or running with it the way it is already?
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shadowlight
First Post
She doen't have and account... yet!Joshua Dyal said:
She's going point-buy as well.
This is a fun write up Josh.
We have done these from time to time but my group has a hard time sticking with it. I hope you guys have better luck.
I like the idea of swapping DMs. That should mix it up enough to keep it interesting.
I would love to see the character write ups. I hope you will post them.
We have done these from time to time but my group has a hard time sticking with it. I hope you guys have better luck.
I like the idea of swapping DMs. That should mix it up enough to keep it interesting.
I would love to see the character write ups. I hope you will post them.
Desdichado
Hero
Thanks! Of course, as of right now, the characters are all in a state of flux -- my character's stats will all be changing, for instance.
What's your group playing these days, anyway? I really liked your SLC Cthulhu.
What's your group playing these days, anyway? I really liked your SLC Cthulhu.
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Mrs Shadowlight
First Post
All right, here is the beginning of my character write up for our campaign. This is my very first post ever on this message board so don't make fun of it too much. 
I've had a lot of fun typing this up so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.
3rd February
Before I begin I would like to say that this is not my idea. The court appointed "therapist" thought that this "exercise" in writing down my life's story would help me work through my "issues." I am skeptical, but if keeping a journal will rid me of the annoying community service assignments I am willing to try.
Suspended in the treetops by might and magic, Liska is a fairy tale that most children dream of finding. My mother was such a child and left her family to find that dream. She had the intention of working at one of the city's inns. Apprenticed to a bard, she found work entertaining the wealthy clientele at the Teetering Limb. When it was discovered that her bard master was using his strange songs to embezzle money from the tavern, he was dropped from the Teetering Limb to the ground below and did not live to sing again. My mother was left without much skill and with a very poor reputation for fraternizing with a thief. After weeks of trying to find work, she found herself on the forest floor with the other panhandlers, pickpockets and prostitutes. She had no money and no food and found herself with only one solution.
During the day, the sun filtered through the heavy canopy of trees and buildings barely lighting the forest floor below. When the sun spots turned to a burning gold and then red with sunset, the creatures of the underworld began their assent into the shining treetops of Liska. To see it reminds one of a swarm of insects stealing toward a pile abandoned grain. The ropes that hang down begin to move and sway and it seems that the forest floor itself is rising up to engulf the treetops. Here my mother climbed each night in shame toward her only means of survival.
As a prostitute she was able to get enough copper to buy food and a small dagger she used to protect herself from her neighbors down below. Climbing caused her arms to grow more sinewy and strong each night but soon she noticed it was more and more difficult to make it to the top of the canopy. She had become pregnant.
The baby inside of her had become her salvation. She pulled herself up, performed her function with detachment and slid back down as dawn broke to count her coins. She bought only enough food to sustain her and her baby and a few prayers from the cleric assigned to the forest floor. She prayed that her baby would be a boy. That he would find a benefactor in the trees to raise him to a life that would never be as terrible as the one she was living.
One morning, late into her pregnancy, she groaned under the weight of the baby pulling her down. Her body had been abused by more and more men of lower and lower quality as she tried to earn money to save her baby and therefore, herself. On the morning of my birth, she fell. She was far enough down the ropes that she did not immediately die but her wounds were extensive and labor came with fury. Those coming down the ropes after her kicked her out of the way and cursed her for the inconvenience. Except one. A young girl who worked as a scullery maid to one of the less virtuous tavern owners took pity on her and went for help.
My mother was carried by the blacksmith and his wife, to their home. The shadow of Liska housed very few acknowledged members of the city proper and the blacksmith was one of them. His trade dictated that he stay out of the treetops and his legitimate business dictated that those above respect him in spite of where he lived. His wife was also valued as an ambassador to merchants and tradesmen who came to trade with the city. She was the first face of Liska to most and was a hospitable host. She and her husband took care of the animals and carts, led the way to the lifts and acted as tour guide to first time visitors. She had a reputation even from the rejected of Liska for her kindness and mercy. Lane and Aliiya carried my mother when everyone else would spit on her for her weakness.
Aliiya put my mother in her bed and told her husband to run to the cleric's hut. Lane ran to find the only hope for this poor woman but when he came to the cleric's home he refused to help. My mother had been judged by the gods and found unworthy. Lane was filled with a fury he could barely control. He had seen this sweet human woman groan under the strain of falling and labor and her only concern was for the life of her baby. I think he saw something of his own human mother in her and the heartbreak was unbearable. He ran back, blind with fury and only with the gentle pleading of Aliiya and the tearful eyes of my mother, did he not return with his hammer to finish the cleric.
In a blaze of pain and blood and death, I was born. My mother lived long enough to see that I was a girl. I am certain she felt defeated and broken although Aliiya would never tell me that. I am also certain her terror came because she knew what my fate would be. My mother's last act was to give Aliiya the purse of copper and with her dying breath ask her to use it to bury me in a consecrated grave and not leave me an orphan to die alone in the shadow of Liska.
So much for her childhood dream.
I've had a lot of fun typing this up so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.3rd February
Before I begin I would like to say that this is not my idea. The court appointed "therapist" thought that this "exercise" in writing down my life's story would help me work through my "issues." I am skeptical, but if keeping a journal will rid me of the annoying community service assignments I am willing to try.
Born in the Shadow
My life actually begins with the death of my mother–although her physical death came many years after the cruel life in Liska killed her spirit. Most would balk at my disrespectful comments about the fair city from which I hail. Liska is seen by most as a city of kindness and honesty. The last refuge of civilization before broaching the wasteland to the west. For most who visit and many who live here, that is true but Liska has a devilish underworld that preys on those who find themselves without fortune and name and banished to the forest floor. Suspended in the treetops by might and magic, Liska is a fairy tale that most children dream of finding. My mother was such a child and left her family to find that dream. She had the intention of working at one of the city's inns. Apprenticed to a bard, she found work entertaining the wealthy clientele at the Teetering Limb. When it was discovered that her bard master was using his strange songs to embezzle money from the tavern, he was dropped from the Teetering Limb to the ground below and did not live to sing again. My mother was left without much skill and with a very poor reputation for fraternizing with a thief. After weeks of trying to find work, she found herself on the forest floor with the other panhandlers, pickpockets and prostitutes. She had no money and no food and found herself with only one solution.
During the day, the sun filtered through the heavy canopy of trees and buildings barely lighting the forest floor below. When the sun spots turned to a burning gold and then red with sunset, the creatures of the underworld began their assent into the shining treetops of Liska. To see it reminds one of a swarm of insects stealing toward a pile abandoned grain. The ropes that hang down begin to move and sway and it seems that the forest floor itself is rising up to engulf the treetops. Here my mother climbed each night in shame toward her only means of survival.
As a prostitute she was able to get enough copper to buy food and a small dagger she used to protect herself from her neighbors down below. Climbing caused her arms to grow more sinewy and strong each night but soon she noticed it was more and more difficult to make it to the top of the canopy. She had become pregnant.
The baby inside of her had become her salvation. She pulled herself up, performed her function with detachment and slid back down as dawn broke to count her coins. She bought only enough food to sustain her and her baby and a few prayers from the cleric assigned to the forest floor. She prayed that her baby would be a boy. That he would find a benefactor in the trees to raise him to a life that would never be as terrible as the one she was living.
One morning, late into her pregnancy, she groaned under the weight of the baby pulling her down. Her body had been abused by more and more men of lower and lower quality as she tried to earn money to save her baby and therefore, herself. On the morning of my birth, she fell. She was far enough down the ropes that she did not immediately die but her wounds were extensive and labor came with fury. Those coming down the ropes after her kicked her out of the way and cursed her for the inconvenience. Except one. A young girl who worked as a scullery maid to one of the less virtuous tavern owners took pity on her and went for help.
My mother was carried by the blacksmith and his wife, to their home. The shadow of Liska housed very few acknowledged members of the city proper and the blacksmith was one of them. His trade dictated that he stay out of the treetops and his legitimate business dictated that those above respect him in spite of where he lived. His wife was also valued as an ambassador to merchants and tradesmen who came to trade with the city. She was the first face of Liska to most and was a hospitable host. She and her husband took care of the animals and carts, led the way to the lifts and acted as tour guide to first time visitors. She had a reputation even from the rejected of Liska for her kindness and mercy. Lane and Aliiya carried my mother when everyone else would spit on her for her weakness.
Aliiya put my mother in her bed and told her husband to run to the cleric's hut. Lane ran to find the only hope for this poor woman but when he came to the cleric's home he refused to help. My mother had been judged by the gods and found unworthy. Lane was filled with a fury he could barely control. He had seen this sweet human woman groan under the strain of falling and labor and her only concern was for the life of her baby. I think he saw something of his own human mother in her and the heartbreak was unbearable. He ran back, blind with fury and only with the gentle pleading of Aliiya and the tearful eyes of my mother, did he not return with his hammer to finish the cleric.
In a blaze of pain and blood and death, I was born. My mother lived long enough to see that I was a girl. I am certain she felt defeated and broken although Aliiya would never tell me that. I am also certain her terror came because she knew what my fate would be. My mother's last act was to give Aliiya the purse of copper and with her dying breath ask her to use it to bury me in a consecrated grave and not leave me an orphan to die alone in the shadow of Liska.
So much for her childhood dream.
Desdichado
Hero
The four scrambled as quickly as possible away from the eyes of the goblins before they came out looking for them. At the same time, they kept their eyes open for a place they could hide. A small opening in the side of the hill looked promising; it was only about three feet high and a few feet wide, but it looked like it opened up into a cavern almost large enough for them to stand that went back about forty feet. Cyrus sent a light globe spell into the back of the cave to check it out while the rest quickly climbed inside. The small cave was rough -- it had stalactites and stalagmites and a good deal of rubble (which was subsequently stacked around the front of the cave to make the aperture even smaller and less noticable to any patrols looking for them.) In the center of the cave was a small pool of water, and a very slow drip-drip from above was the only sound they could initially hear. Plumbling the pool with her staff, Amallind is unable to find the bottom.
Listening carefully at the entrance, Amallind soon hears the sounds of the search for them, but nobody seems to come close initially. Finally she hears a couple of very odd sounds. "There here! Let those others go, they're not important!" is called out from near the top of the hill. The sounds of the search fade away to nothing. Then, another sound, a dull, rumbling rhythmic sound, like the tramp of marching feet. She decides it's worthwhile to risk sneaking out of the cave to see what's going on.
There doesn't appear to be any sign of anyone searching for them, but to the south, she sees a road like a gray ribbon stretching away from the temple/fortress. On that road is a phalanx of what looks like fighting men marching towards their position. She doesn't recognize the style of the armor or weapons, except to note that they are all uniform. They do not look like goblinoids, but rather humans. It is unclear if they are marching to join the goblinoids or not. She ducks back inside the cave.
The first thing she notices is that the steady drip-drip of the water seems to have picked up it's pace. Something is causing the water to drip faster. Quickly the group searches the area and finds a small naturally occuring chimney above the pool, from which the water is dripping. Cyrus sends a light up the chimney to have a look. A few feet up, they see a small face, covered with fishy greenish scales looking back at them.
"Hello there!" Amallind calls out in goblin, common and elven. She is answered in common.
"Hello!"
"What are you doing up there?" Cyrus asks.
"What are you doing down there?" asks the small-fishy creature. "This is my home, you're the ones who don't belong here."
"We're just hiding from the goblins," Cyrus answers. "We'll be on our way soon enough."
The creature, seemingly convinced of their friendly intentions, hops down to talk with them face to face. It is a small creature, not much more than three feet tall, and spindly of build. It is covered in fishlike scales and has wings sprouting from it's back (although they didn't know it, it is a water mephit). They talk with it some more, trying to understand the lay of the land, but the creature seems very unsure about what goes on on the surface. He says the pool below leads to a vast underground aquifer. He's not sure how he got to be where he is, but has not tried to leave the watery security of his home to find out. He's aware of the fortress above him, and says it seems to have been inhabited since he came to the area, but knows little of what goes on there. The name of Grendu means nothing to him.
After a few moments of discussion, the creature picks up a bit of a tart tongue. His friendly attitude turns a bit bored and impatient -- he wonders when the group will leave his front porch alone and let him have some peace.
Amallind decides it's time to do a little more reconnoitering to see if leaving the cave is viable at this time. It's getting late in the evening, and will soon be dark. Although she knows goblins and hobgoblins can see in the dark, she also knows that the range of this sight is limited. She quietly steps outside again.
The weather has turned downright weird. High winds now howl around the hillside that the fortress in built on, kicking up dust. Both sight and sound are fairly well obscured. Above the fortress/temple the clouds seem to be spiralling into a whirlpool of some sort. "This can't be good..." she says to herself. Taking advantage of the cover of the wind and dust, she creeps upward toward the structure. There is a large door there, but only three goblins seem to be watching it. She creeps back to the cave at this point to tell the others what she has seen.
"They've started the ritual," Cyrus says. "They must be trying to summon Grendu now. We have to try and stop it."
The little water mepit was glad to see them leave, although Bria was less inclined to sneak back into the goblin fortress than the others. She does agree to creep up near the door and hide behind a boulder, though. Amallind nocks an arrow to her bow, but Cyrus stops her. "Let me see what I can do first," he says. Waving his hand softly and whispering words of power, he casts a spell that causes each of the goblins to wince in pain and stumble. None of them falls to the ground, though. Amallind sends an arrow at one of them, nailing him to the door where he hangs suspended with an arrow through his head. Baenn rushes the last one, but is unable to hit him. The final one turns to open the door, but Amallind is chilled to see that he doesn't have a look of fear or panic, as she expected from a goblin. She sends another arrow at him that brings him to the ground in front of the door. The final one tries to disengage himself from Baenn, running towards the door and blowing a whistle. Baenn chops his back wide open, but the damage has already been (presumably) done. They quickly move the dead bodies to the side and hide on either side of the doors, hoping to surprise whomever opens them before they are in turn overcome.
Listening carefully at the entrance, Amallind soon hears the sounds of the search for them, but nobody seems to come close initially. Finally she hears a couple of very odd sounds. "There here! Let those others go, they're not important!" is called out from near the top of the hill. The sounds of the search fade away to nothing. Then, another sound, a dull, rumbling rhythmic sound, like the tramp of marching feet. She decides it's worthwhile to risk sneaking out of the cave to see what's going on.
There doesn't appear to be any sign of anyone searching for them, but to the south, she sees a road like a gray ribbon stretching away from the temple/fortress. On that road is a phalanx of what looks like fighting men marching towards their position. She doesn't recognize the style of the armor or weapons, except to note that they are all uniform. They do not look like goblinoids, but rather humans. It is unclear if they are marching to join the goblinoids or not. She ducks back inside the cave.
The first thing she notices is that the steady drip-drip of the water seems to have picked up it's pace. Something is causing the water to drip faster. Quickly the group searches the area and finds a small naturally occuring chimney above the pool, from which the water is dripping. Cyrus sends a light up the chimney to have a look. A few feet up, they see a small face, covered with fishy greenish scales looking back at them.
"Hello there!" Amallind calls out in goblin, common and elven. She is answered in common.
"Hello!"
"What are you doing up there?" Cyrus asks.
"What are you doing down there?" asks the small-fishy creature. "This is my home, you're the ones who don't belong here."
"We're just hiding from the goblins," Cyrus answers. "We'll be on our way soon enough."
The creature, seemingly convinced of their friendly intentions, hops down to talk with them face to face. It is a small creature, not much more than three feet tall, and spindly of build. It is covered in fishlike scales and has wings sprouting from it's back (although they didn't know it, it is a water mephit). They talk with it some more, trying to understand the lay of the land, but the creature seems very unsure about what goes on on the surface. He says the pool below leads to a vast underground aquifer. He's not sure how he got to be where he is, but has not tried to leave the watery security of his home to find out. He's aware of the fortress above him, and says it seems to have been inhabited since he came to the area, but knows little of what goes on there. The name of Grendu means nothing to him.
After a few moments of discussion, the creature picks up a bit of a tart tongue. His friendly attitude turns a bit bored and impatient -- he wonders when the group will leave his front porch alone and let him have some peace.
Amallind decides it's time to do a little more reconnoitering to see if leaving the cave is viable at this time. It's getting late in the evening, and will soon be dark. Although she knows goblins and hobgoblins can see in the dark, she also knows that the range of this sight is limited. She quietly steps outside again.
The weather has turned downright weird. High winds now howl around the hillside that the fortress in built on, kicking up dust. Both sight and sound are fairly well obscured. Above the fortress/temple the clouds seem to be spiralling into a whirlpool of some sort. "This can't be good..." she says to herself. Taking advantage of the cover of the wind and dust, she creeps upward toward the structure. There is a large door there, but only three goblins seem to be watching it. She creeps back to the cave at this point to tell the others what she has seen.
"They've started the ritual," Cyrus says. "They must be trying to summon Grendu now. We have to try and stop it."
The little water mepit was glad to see them leave, although Bria was less inclined to sneak back into the goblin fortress than the others. She does agree to creep up near the door and hide behind a boulder, though. Amallind nocks an arrow to her bow, but Cyrus stops her. "Let me see what I can do first," he says. Waving his hand softly and whispering words of power, he casts a spell that causes each of the goblins to wince in pain and stumble. None of them falls to the ground, though. Amallind sends an arrow at one of them, nailing him to the door where he hangs suspended with an arrow through his head. Baenn rushes the last one, but is unable to hit him. The final one turns to open the door, but Amallind is chilled to see that he doesn't have a look of fear or panic, as she expected from a goblin. She sends another arrow at him that brings him to the ground in front of the door. The final one tries to disengage himself from Baenn, running towards the door and blowing a whistle. Baenn chops his back wide open, but the damage has already been (presumably) done. They quickly move the dead bodies to the side and hide on either side of the doors, hoping to surprise whomever opens them before they are in turn overcome.
Desdichado
Hero
When, a few minutes later, someone comes to the door, he is rudely surprised by a faceful of weapons. "Whoah," he says, doing his best interpretation of Keannu Reeves. He's not a goblinoid, as it turns out, but a human, although distinctly exotic in features and accent -- dark skin but shockingly bright blond hair and pale grey eyes. He's also a bit on the fat side, and dressed rather well -- as befitting a merchant.
The group quickly makes up some lame story about being new recruits to the cause of Grendu and wondering why they're greeted at the door by a human merchant, but he seems to accept their story easily enough. "Grend-who?" he asks. "Look, I'm just passing through. I've been making money off the goblinoids for years and have a regular caravan from down south. I even stop as far away as the City of Brass (NOTE: we had a new PC about to join in a few minutes who randomly generated his location in PCGen and it said the City of Brass. Our City of Brass isn't the standard Great Wheel version; it's a city far to the south on the edge of a vast sea of fire. Everyone knows, after all, that the farther south you go the hotter it gets until the very ground itself bursts spontaneously into flame...) You're welcome to meet my caravan; I think the goblins aren't accepting company at the moment. It seems they're all... busy." Indeed, everyone hears the sound of the chanting of many, many voices from somewhere above them in the temple. Lacking any better ideas, they agree to follow this merchant fellow (who identifies himself as Jozzell, but is usually called Jezebel or Jocelyn by the PCs) to a little room off to the side of the temple where the merchants are housed. There's about half a dozen of them in a small room playing dice. There are three that look like caravan guards, Jozzell himself (obviously), a halfling that is chained to a chair, and a littler man that is not a southerner, but who has a sneaky, rat-like face. The PCs all look at each other wordlessly and know immediately what to do. Cyrus talks a bit to Jozzell to shake him up for information while Baenn throws the dice with the caravan guards and Amallind decides to talk to the rat-faced man. He seems to be the least drunk, by far; she notices, in fact, that he barely sips his cheap wine while the others are sloshing it all over the place. Baenn promptly loses nine golden crowns.
Cyrus has an interesting discussion with Jozzell about his business, but unfortunately, he seems to know very little about goblinoid politics or current events. The merchant also shows off his halfling slave, Gunderic, who is an entertainer and acrobat par excellence, apparently. He unchains the little fellah, who proceeds to do some flips and somersaults, getting a good reaction from the drunken crowd. In the midst of his performance, he suddenly stops and points away crying, "What the heck is that?" While every one of the drunken faces turns to see what he's talking about, he dives away and hides behind a counter, creeping quietly into the kitchen behind.
Before the drunken caravan guards can wonder what happened, though, another development gets their interest. Amallind has been talking quietly with rat-face in the corner. "You don't really look like you belong here," she says. The sneaky git snorts quietly.
"I could say the same thing about you. I belong here, and am well known to the goblinoids, but I've never seen you before."
This line of questioning makes Amallind a little nervous, but she pushes on. "We're relatively new. Why don't you let me know what's going on so I don't stumble into something I don't mean to?"
Rat-sneak smiles. "What's in it for me?"
Amallind thinks for a second. None of them have a lot of treasure or money, and Baenn has been losing what little of it they did have. "We have important and influential friends at Liska," she says. "You want something done, we can make it happen."
Rat-sneak barks a short laugh. "Playing both sides of the fence, are you? Hmmm..." that makes him thoughtful, and he talks more to himself at this point. "Of course, soon there won't be a Liska, if all goes according to plan, but it never hurts to be prepared."
He turns to Amallind again. "Here's a freebie anyway. Lose the Liska clothes. You stand out like a sore thumb that way. Maybe these jokers here have something you can use."
It's about this time that Gunderic makes his astonishing disappearance (it was astonishing to me, anyway. I hadn't recalled that you could make a Bluff check to get a bonus to a Hide check, but my drunken guards rolled so abysmally that I ruled he totally pulled it off.) Partially to cover for the little guy, and partially taking rat-sneak's advice, Amallind gets up and starts dancing. Apparently, she's decided that these men are so drunk they'll fall for some kind of reverse strip tease where she dances and takes the clothes off of them which in turn she'll use as a disguise. They all promptly forget about Gunderic, but they're also somewhat reluctant to lose their pants, for some reason.
Cyrus decides he's tired of talking to these fellows and not getting anywhere, so he stands up behind one of the guards and clocks him on the back of the head with his staff. "Oww!" he says, turning around, rubbing the back of his head. "Be careful, you clod, that hurts!" Cyrus responds by hitting him again, knocking him out. That lets the cat out of the bag quick. The other two guards stumble to their feet, one of them reaching for his sword. Amallind hits Jozzell with her staff, knocking him out. Baenn leaps over the table and tries to hit the guard with his sword, but misses. Rat-sneak slips out the door quietly while nobody is looking. Meanwhile, the guard with the sword has been cutting Cyrus down to size, he's lying in a heap on the floor barely conscious. Finally Amallind jumps over the table herself, finishing him off.
Gunderic comes out from the kitchen at this point and slits the throats of his former captors. When asked if he will join the rest of them, he thinks for just a second, realizes he doesn't have tons of choices and shrugs. "Sure."
They've got bigger problems to deal with, though. Cyrus is able to cast a spell that converts some of his real damage into subdual damage, so his vicious sword cuts turn into blackish, angry bruises. At this point, they all realize that they can't hear the chanting anymore...
The group quickly makes up some lame story about being new recruits to the cause of Grendu and wondering why they're greeted at the door by a human merchant, but he seems to accept their story easily enough. "Grend-who?" he asks. "Look, I'm just passing through. I've been making money off the goblinoids for years and have a regular caravan from down south. I even stop as far away as the City of Brass (NOTE: we had a new PC about to join in a few minutes who randomly generated his location in PCGen and it said the City of Brass. Our City of Brass isn't the standard Great Wheel version; it's a city far to the south on the edge of a vast sea of fire. Everyone knows, after all, that the farther south you go the hotter it gets until the very ground itself bursts spontaneously into flame...) You're welcome to meet my caravan; I think the goblins aren't accepting company at the moment. It seems they're all... busy." Indeed, everyone hears the sound of the chanting of many, many voices from somewhere above them in the temple. Lacking any better ideas, they agree to follow this merchant fellow (who identifies himself as Jozzell, but is usually called Jezebel or Jocelyn by the PCs) to a little room off to the side of the temple where the merchants are housed. There's about half a dozen of them in a small room playing dice. There are three that look like caravan guards, Jozzell himself (obviously), a halfling that is chained to a chair, and a littler man that is not a southerner, but who has a sneaky, rat-like face. The PCs all look at each other wordlessly and know immediately what to do. Cyrus talks a bit to Jozzell to shake him up for information while Baenn throws the dice with the caravan guards and Amallind decides to talk to the rat-faced man. He seems to be the least drunk, by far; she notices, in fact, that he barely sips his cheap wine while the others are sloshing it all over the place. Baenn promptly loses nine golden crowns.
Cyrus has an interesting discussion with Jozzell about his business, but unfortunately, he seems to know very little about goblinoid politics or current events. The merchant also shows off his halfling slave, Gunderic, who is an entertainer and acrobat par excellence, apparently. He unchains the little fellah, who proceeds to do some flips and somersaults, getting a good reaction from the drunken crowd. In the midst of his performance, he suddenly stops and points away crying, "What the heck is that?" While every one of the drunken faces turns to see what he's talking about, he dives away and hides behind a counter, creeping quietly into the kitchen behind.
Before the drunken caravan guards can wonder what happened, though, another development gets their interest. Amallind has been talking quietly with rat-face in the corner. "You don't really look like you belong here," she says. The sneaky git snorts quietly.
"I could say the same thing about you. I belong here, and am well known to the goblinoids, but I've never seen you before."
This line of questioning makes Amallind a little nervous, but she pushes on. "We're relatively new. Why don't you let me know what's going on so I don't stumble into something I don't mean to?"
Rat-sneak smiles. "What's in it for me?"
Amallind thinks for a second. None of them have a lot of treasure or money, and Baenn has been losing what little of it they did have. "We have important and influential friends at Liska," she says. "You want something done, we can make it happen."
Rat-sneak barks a short laugh. "Playing both sides of the fence, are you? Hmmm..." that makes him thoughtful, and he talks more to himself at this point. "Of course, soon there won't be a Liska, if all goes according to plan, but it never hurts to be prepared."
He turns to Amallind again. "Here's a freebie anyway. Lose the Liska clothes. You stand out like a sore thumb that way. Maybe these jokers here have something you can use."
It's about this time that Gunderic makes his astonishing disappearance (it was astonishing to me, anyway. I hadn't recalled that you could make a Bluff check to get a bonus to a Hide check, but my drunken guards rolled so abysmally that I ruled he totally pulled it off.) Partially to cover for the little guy, and partially taking rat-sneak's advice, Amallind gets up and starts dancing. Apparently, she's decided that these men are so drunk they'll fall for some kind of reverse strip tease where she dances and takes the clothes off of them which in turn she'll use as a disguise. They all promptly forget about Gunderic, but they're also somewhat reluctant to lose their pants, for some reason.
Cyrus decides he's tired of talking to these fellows and not getting anywhere, so he stands up behind one of the guards and clocks him on the back of the head with his staff. "Oww!" he says, turning around, rubbing the back of his head. "Be careful, you clod, that hurts!" Cyrus responds by hitting him again, knocking him out. That lets the cat out of the bag quick. The other two guards stumble to their feet, one of them reaching for his sword. Amallind hits Jozzell with her staff, knocking him out. Baenn leaps over the table and tries to hit the guard with his sword, but misses. Rat-sneak slips out the door quietly while nobody is looking. Meanwhile, the guard with the sword has been cutting Cyrus down to size, he's lying in a heap on the floor barely conscious. Finally Amallind jumps over the table herself, finishing him off.
Gunderic comes out from the kitchen at this point and slits the throats of his former captors. When asked if he will join the rest of them, he thinks for just a second, realizes he doesn't have tons of choices and shrugs. "Sure."
They've got bigger problems to deal with, though. Cyrus is able to cast a spell that converts some of his real damage into subdual damage, so his vicious sword cuts turn into blackish, angry bruises. At this point, they all realize that they can't hear the chanting anymore...
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Desdichado
Hero
Human ranger, using a bow and a quarterstaff. 3.5 variety, with bow-fighting path (I believe.) One more post to get us up to date, and one more big fight.
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