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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 902348" data-attributes="member: 2292">Saturday, August 26th, 508 AF, continued Three adventurers and a goblin leap from their hiding place, weapons at the ready.   Pruk and Halgo go to work with crossbows, the small goblin's accuracy frightening now he's shooting to kill.  Thrash aim with his magically enhanced bow is almost as good, and he takes out two goblins in the space of a few breaths.  They are met almost instantly by a hail of javelins.  The goblin warriors are poor shots, but they cause more than a few nicks and cuts through sheer persistance. Geoffrey does his best to ward the wounded with his shield, but for a twenty-count the air is filled with the sound of missile fire.Then there's a lull, a two second absence of noise that seems to catch everyone off guard.  The adventurers stand poised, arrows and bolts aimed, as they realise what the silence means - the goblins have run out of javelins and are drawing short blades before charging.A final barrage of missile fire is let loose just as the goblins start to charge, most of the shots going wide.  Geoffrey and Thrash are quick to draw weapons, laying in to their smaller opponents with morning star and heavy flail.  Pruk and Halgo attempt to hang back, relying on their missile weapons, but the rush of goblins is quick to surround the front line and charge them down.  Even the goblin prince, reluctant as he may be, has a weapon drawn as he scurries accross the uneven stone floor."Where's the Psion?" Halgo demands over the roar of the goblins.  In the back of his mind, he knows the bulgy-headed Thimdrul is the most dangerous adversary.  If he has even half the power Pruk seems to attribute to him, the psion is a force to be reckoned with alone.  His companions don't answer, hard pressed by the small squadron that surrounds them.  The answer comes when a blue flare of light suddenly spills accross the chamber.  Thimdrul is standing at the open mouth of the decaying dragon corpse, a chunk of crystal the size of a childs head held aloft.  The crystal glows, it's radiance throbbing, and Halgo feels the faint clench of magic closing around him.  His limbs start to stiffen, his movements slightly jerky, before adrenaline and natural dwarven stubbornness reassert themselves to throw off the effects.Three of the goblin warriors are dead by the time the first of the four falls.  Pruk dies under the blows of his kin, falling to the ground with a weary mutter of "stupid...humans..." before darkness takes him.  Geoffrey and Thrash are fighting four or five opponents at a timeincluding the foppish prince, while two or three of their fellows harrass Halgo.  With the numbers agains them there is little to do but parry and dodgy, biding their time until a goblin lets its guard down enough to allow a strike.  The blows they do make are rarely strong enough to down a foe, but they gradually whittle away at the attackers despite the cuts they take in return.  Through it all Thimdrul watches, the crystal in his hand pulsing with power.  All three of the adventurers feel the crushing numbness as the fight progresses, the subtle pull of a paralyzing magic that would mean death to anyone who succums.  For the space of almost a minute they resist, whittling away at the goblin warriors.  There are only six foes left, five of the original warriors and the prince, when Thrash's will gives out and he freezes in place.  The young warrior can only stare with blank terror as the prince's dagger finds his heart.  Blood fountains accross the floor of the cavern as the ranger collapses, his flail clattering to the floor.  One of the goblins lets out a small cheer.Halgo and Geoffrey barely hesitate, both starting to fall back even before Geoffrey yells out the order.  Geoffrey is badly wounded, blood seeping out of small rents and tears in his armor.  Halgo has suffered only minor cuts, but it's almost more than his scholarly lifestyle has prepared him for.  They run, as best they can, to the rope.  As Halgo climbs, Geoffrey hammers the rusting lock holding the children prisoner.  Even though he can hear the cries of the goblins in the distance, they don't seem to have followed.  The cleric helps the three children make the climb, then struggles up the rope as best he can in his armor.  Halgo is laying flat on the ledge, crossbow ready as he scans for approaching goblins.  They wait, breathless, for the space of two minutes before they breath a sigh of relief.</blockquote>

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