DF's "Those Damn Heroes"

[DistractingFlare]

The bandit chief Cyrus Downs has called you into his chamber, and you know that's bad news.

Word has been spreading around the warren. One of the other bandit clans - could it be the Red Valley gang, or maybe that tribe of goblins with the weird facepaint, or maybe just another evil wizard? -- but somebody -- has killed one of King Leopold's couriers and taken his parcel.

Chief Downs tells you this same thing, but less gracefully, and with a lot more hand gestures.

"King-man sent a guy with a bag. Someone killed 'im. Dunno who. But King-man ain't happy. King-man's sending some big, strong hero types to clean up the riffraff. Turns out, boys, even though we don't do no murderin' or stealin' of fancy bags, we're some of the riffraff he wants cleaned."

At the mention of "heroes," a chill runs down your spine. Perhaps your mother whispered stories of them when you were a naughty little banditling.

			"Clean your plate, or the heroes are going to stomp in and torture you for information." "But I'm just a little banditling, mama. Why would they torture me?" "Because they're twisted people, and you haven't cleaned your plate."

"Paying attention, boys? Good. Hero types on their way. We got women here. Kids. Lace up yer boots. Grab yer favorite sword. Yer gonna need it."

"But can't we just explain it to them?" one of you idiot bandits asks.

"Heroes don't talk, boys. They cast magic missile first, then don't bother to ask questions later. Now go stand guard."

"Mikal, use yer talents. Be brave. Show 'em what it means to be a Downs. And Karrak, make sure Mikal doesn't get 'is head caved in by some glowy paladin. Houndaer, Sal, you guys know what ta do. Stab, kill, and don't forget to trash talk. Heroes hate it when ya show a little spine. And Toaddy...ta be honest, I'm not sure ye can even hear me, so...good...luck?

Show 'em hell, boys."
--

You've wasted no time in preparing for the onslaught of murderous good guys. There's one entrance to the warren, and it's been barricaded and reinforced with steel piping. Tanly, the slightly-creepy kobold trapsmith has been rummaging around all morning, affixing tripwires in places, muttering to himself in draconic.

[sblock=If you speak draconic]"Oh, my darling jar of beads. I'll be coming home to you soon, yes, and I'll be plunging my handsies into your depths, rummaging around in the glory of your multicolored essence."[/sblock]

A few traps have been posted by the strange little guy, but you know the party's rogue won't have much trouble disarming them. Because, as you know, traps are kind of underpowered.

YOU: Mikal, Toaddy, Houndaer, Sal, and Karrak. You are the front line. The heroes are on their way to kill you and drink the EXP from your lifeblood. If you must, compare strategies. Or play dominoes. Or have a nap.

 

[Voda Vosa]

Toaddy's right eye blinked, as a sign of understanding. And then his left eye blinked, and Down remembered the frogman did that all the time, so his message might have been not understood. As he does usually, he follows the others, dragging his mace behind him, leaving a groove trail behind. Worried that the trail might lead the heroes to his personal chamber, sent a boy to step and fill the groove with dirt.
As the kobold trapsmith came and go with his traps, Toaddy puffed himself, doubling his size. He looked angry! Or was about to fart, one of those two things. The toad had a grudge against the kobolds, because he had learnt from the old wench that raised him that his own people were terrorized by these creatures. Toaddy remained puffed, looking intently at the kobold that didn't even notice him, and walked away, following a trap wire. When the reptilian was gone, Toaddy deflates, with a loud *Croack!* It was then that he noticed that the rest had kept walking, bored of the toad's antics. He hopped behind, croaking.

 

[Disposable Hero]

Houndaer stands looking at the entrance to the Warren entrance. "Damn heroes! I could be back at camp with that new barmaid but instead I'm here waiting for some do-gooders." His eyes narrow as removes a dagger from it's sheath and begins spinning it in the palm of his hand.

"You!" He calls out. "Bring me some wine." The bandit started to protest but was greeted by narrow murderous eyes and he quickly ran off to fetch the wine. "Sometimes I wonder where Downs gets these underlings." He returns his attention to the Warrens entrance.

 

[Inspiratorium]

"Hardly the time ta get drunk," Sal states curtly, sitting on the ground and sharpening his blade. He tests the point, gives it a few preparatory swings, and satisfied, stands back up and slips it into a sling at his side.

"Don' suppose anybody'd care ta fill me in on why we're preparin' so much fer a few mercs? It's not like we went an' stole from a dragon. Probably won' even be a good fight." It's not that the rest of the group hadn't explained to him already, it's that he didn't (and still doesn't) believe a word of it.

 

[DistractingFlare]

One of the bandits returns from bringing Houndaer a flagon of cheap wine and hands it to him. "Here you go, sir."

Then, overhearing Sal's comments, pipes up. "But sir, we ain't never had to face real adventurers. Chief says the guys who're to clean out the riffraff, they been drinking EXP for months. But you can handle 'em. That's why you're the best, sirs."

He then scampers back into the warren, calling back "Shouldn't be long now!"

 

[HolyMan]

"Cyrus gets him where he can find them. I guess. I never really talk to him much about those sorts of things." Mikal shrugs as he watches the entrance.

"This almost reminds me of the time we went looking for your old stomping grounds Karack. There were kobold traps there as well remember?"

[sblock=Stats Block]

Pending... that's a lot of work you know.[/sblock]

 

[Disposable Hero]

"This cheap elven piss is barely strong enough to get a new born halfling drunk..." He takes a long draw from the flagon.

He eyes the underling as he makes his comment about the heroes headed this way. "Drinkin up EXP eh? Now that's a fine liquor. I had some a few years back when I was an underling. Good stuff that EXP."

 

[Voda Vosa]

Toaddy makes comments about the appropriate way to deal with the adventurers. He thinks that shorting them of their healing powers and their own trap-smith might be a critical success, since they can then retreat into the inner corridors. Having no rouge the adventurers will probably walk into the traps blindfolded! Toaddy had all planned out!They will then run into the tunnels where the bandits could ambush them from several sides, taking down their controller. The toad man draws lines and other tactical maps on the dirt, and looks up for approval.

Of course, he didn't speak common, so he mainly made croaky sounds * Croak, Brrrr, Crupcrupcrup...* and draw stuff in the dirt, and no body understood anything.

 

[Disposable Hero]

Houndaer looks over the drawing in the dirt. "I think what he's trying to say is we attack them until they lose a member and from the looks of what he drew there he's suggesting that we attack their trapsmith." He looks to Toaddy to see if he's right. "Then from there we retreat inside and dispose of them at our will."

 

[DistractingFlare]

As you linger by the entrance, the wait seems to take forever. Minutes fly by until you've forgotten completely what you were waiting for. And then, finally, sounds from outside. Approaching footsteps. The errant rays of sunshine that poke through the cracks between the wooden door and its steel reinforcement flicker, like the falling of a leaf before a campfire.

"Check it, Mox."
"I know what to do."
"So do it already."

The sound of a small figure leaning softly against the door. The clink and clatter of thin metals tools working against the lock.

The situation: the heroes are at your doorstep. The lock on the door won't hold forever, but it is rigged with a poison dart launcher from one of the kobold's traps. You have time to retreat deeper into the warren, ready attacks, etc. You could even just trigger the trap as a move action and then open the door yourselves. How you handle it is up to you.