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Message: <blockquote data-quote="kiznit" data-source="post: 1574611" data-attributes="member: 3994">Stand and be delivered!Player's Introduction:There’s no denying that AmberHaven is beautiful. You’ve grown up here and you have to admit that for the most part you’ve lived a peaceful and comfortable life in the quiet mountain valley. AmberHaven is called the Valley of Fog because the legend behind the DragonSpine mountains says that a great ancient dragon curled her body here to sleep a thousand years; the fog is her breath when she exhales. In truth, it’s only very foggy up in the passes, for the most part the air is fresh and clear. Legend or no, the land is warm and fertile even in the winter months, and the valley seems blessed with an atmosphere of benevolence and protection. The trouble is, is that it’s bloody boring as hell. If you have to spend one more winter trapped in this dead-end corner of the world you’re going to go crazy. You’ve sworn that there’s no way you’re going to grow up and be a farmer your whole life. That’s why you’ve been testing your limits, and training with the cleverest and most skillful folks that have retired here, and now you’re ready to make your own way in the world. You’ve worked hard all summer on the harvest and caravan work to save up some money and buy supplies, and now you’re desperate to make it through Tilver’s Gap and out into the open world before the winter storms hit. So with the red and gold leaves of Autumn gently falling along the trail west to GoblinRock, you say goodbye to your loved ones (if you have any) and heft your meager travel belongings over your shoulder. Vestyria awaits!The players didn't get very far.  The half-orc, yet to join the adventure, does not get to join the fierce and optimistic group as they triumphantly leave their flea-bitten little town and march intrepidly into the unknown. Halfway through the small forest that lingers underneath the pass of Tilver's Gap the group is ambushed. An imperious and arrogant goblin steps into the path and cries out "Stand and Deliver!" in his most threatening voice, meaningfully waving his large stick (complete with nails stuck in it).  Looking around, the party notices a number of similar small shadows lurking about in the arbor on either side.  The young adventurers trade unsure looks at each other, for they are untested. At which point, the dwarf (already ridiculously stingy with the remains of his starting gold) makes a rude hand gesture at the lead goblin. The action music kicks in and our intrepid players brace for their first taste of combat!Ten minutes later and nearby birds begin to hesitantly chirp in what late afternoon sun manages to dribble through the overhead canopy. Four bodies lie in various contortions on the leafy path. One of the humans, who happened to have actually purchased some decent armor, moans a little and clutches at his head. Staggering up, he pats himself down and finds that all of them have been robbed of all their money, though the goblins were kind enough to leave them their weapons (which were too large for them anyway).  Imperious shouts as to the unfairness of setting seven goblins on a weak party of inexperienced players float unheard through the air. The party limps back into town.After several days of various wound-lickings and so forth, the party begins to feel the itch for revenge.  Robbed of all their money and having to stagger back into town to mooch off of relatives and friends, their humiliation burns bright-hot and the rumors of goblin camps in the hills beyond the forest tempts them. So (once again) the would-be heroes hail a bright and triumphant goodbye to the small town they loathe and love and head off into the forest.The dwarven tracker has little trouble picking up the trail from the blood-spattered spot in the road where they had met painful unconsciousness at the hands of the little bandits. An hour or two through the forest, and the vengeful group make their way into the more sparsely forested hill-lands. There, nestled against the roots of the high mountains, several ruddy hidebound lean-tos circle a sputtering fire. A small boar slowly roasts on a spit as several goblins mutter and chuckle at each other in their base tongue.The party scouts about and estimates that there are only a few goblins here, though it is unclear what lurks in one of the larger lean-tos.  The lead goblin sports about in a disdainful manner, obviously gloating over their recent winnings and the successful hunting they've had recently.  The party confers in eager whispers and eventually come up with as cunning a plan as could be expected. They are going to storm the camp and try to kill all the goblins. Nodding at each other in staunch approval, the order is given.Shouts and curses as the humans charge into the firelight, the dwarf leading the way. Magic missiles arc around our heroes and immolate at least one goblin (leaving the requisite eyes to blink a couple of times before detiorating into a pile of ash). Rapiers stab, maces fly, the pick lands harshly, and goblins scatter.The lead goblin keeps his head, however, and ducks into the larger tent, and quickly reappears, yanking at a chain. A guttural growl is heard and our companions stop in sudden worry, when suddenly the lean-to is ripped apart and charging out is a large feral wolf.One bite and the poor cleric is yanked to the ground, badly twisting his ankle. The dwarf goes down in a flurry of swearing and flying fur.  The elven sorceress, however, is not a stranger to the blade, and drawing her own rapier, she manages to score a critical hit against the tough hide of the beast, while the quick-witted hero stabs a vital organ from the opposite side, only to turn around and dispatch the lead goblin in a triumphant slash. The day is theirs!A little out of breath, but grinning and bloodied, the heroes loot the camp and find at least some of their pilfered gold. The thief scores a fine masterwork short sword from the lead goblin (who had been using it as a longsword), but more importantly the triumphant players have felt the rush of victory, the glory of triumph over fear, and hot taste of fresh experience points.Next: The old orcish stand-off</blockquote>

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