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Message: <blockquote data-quote="jeffwik" data-source="post: 620010" data-attributes="member: 9739">Event Five: The Hob-Goblins Went to Hell and Took It OverA few hours later, Krikara was creeping darkly along and heard faintly the sounds of conversation coming from up ahead.  She alerted Atarax, who speaks a dozen languages.  Or possibly Atarax heard it first.Either way, somewhere ahead were two people conversing in Aboveground Common, not to be confused with Undercommon.  The conversation went something like this.FIRST VOICE: “Damn, I’ve tripped on another rock.  Tore out a seam on my trousers.”SECOND VOICE: “I hate this place, all these rocks, and it’s like a maze of twisty little passages, all alike.”FIRST VOICE: “It’s just like Mycon to get lost in someplace like this.  The bastard loves this kind of thing.”SECOND VOICE:  “What, rocks and mazes?”FIRST VOICE: “No, seeing me split my pants.  He probably set this up on purpose.”SECOND VOICE: “Could be, could be.  Maybe he’s laughing at us right now, and in a minute will appear, with a picnic basket of fine wines and scented cheeses.”FIRST VOICE:  “I hope so, I’m starving.  Have one of the porters send up a leg of elf.”SECOND VOICE: “We’re out of elf, remember?  We ate it all last week.”FIRST VOICE: “Damn, you’re right.  I’ll just eat a porter, then.”SECOND VOICE: “No good.  We ate the porters the day before yesterday.”FIRST VOICE: “I’m really getting tired of this.”SECOND VOICE: “Crud!  I stepped in some guano.  These slippers are ruined.”Which led to a hushed conversation along these lines.ATARAX: “I have to meet these people! They’re raksashas!  I can tell, due to my cheaty bardic power of knowing things!”KRIKARA: “When I was saying speaking suggesting you listen hear, I meant sneaking shushing avoiding secretly!”EVERYONE ELSE: “No!”ATARAX: “Aw, c’mon!  Everyone gets a free shot at putting the party in danger!  It’s my turn!”EVERYONE ELSE: “…fine.  We’ll hide back here.  You go talk to them.”ATARAX:  “Sure.  You hide, I’ll talk.”Foleful summoned up an arcane eye to watch over Atarax, and the goblin bard sauntered over to the tunnel (from the bottom of which the complaints about the gross décor of the Hellmouth emanated).ATARAX:  “Hello down there!”RAKSASHAS: “What?”ATARAX:  “I said, hi!”RAKSASHAS:  “Where are you?”ATARAX:  “I’m here at the top of this tunnel!”RAKSASHAS:  “Oh, I see.  Very clever.”  ATARAX:  “So…”RAKSASHAS:  “Won’t you come down, so we can talk?” ATARAX:  “We’re talking now.”RAKSASHAS:  “Don’t try to be funny.  We’ll come up.”The magnificently impressive raksashas levitated out of the tunnel, oozing culture and superiority and racial modifiers to Intimidate.ATARAX:  “Cool.”RAKSASHAS: “It’s not often you see a lone goblin.”ATARAX:  “Oh, I’m not alone.  Guys?  Guys?”EVERYONE ELSE IN THE PARTY: “D’oh!”Everyone else in the party emerged from hiding.  Atarax introduced them all round, and explained to the raksashas that they were in a Hellmouth.  The raksashas claimed to have gotten sucked into an interdimensional vortex at their associate Mycon’s house.  Mycon, they feared, had fallen victim to the same vortex, and they were deeply concerned for him.The raksashas eagerly accepted Atarax’s offering of most of the party’s food (they were extremely hungry) and found his “How We Killed A Purple Worm” song adequate.  Atarax then invited the demons to journey with the party to Freetown, which was quite nearby and in which news of Mycon might be found.  Else, the raksashas could journey on to Gulg, where surely information could be gathered.The cat-demons were understandably reluctant to spend time with the party (and vice versa) but thanks to Atarax’s persistence and offerings of obeisance and food, they agreed to tag along for the last few hours of the trip.It was only a little further to Freetown, where the party hopes to meet up with Thar and Rhuun.  Doon’s small compound was only a little ways into the city, and he was one of the few inhabitants of Freetown that was both nearly indestructible and not unkindly-disposed to Foleful, the only member of the party with contacts in Freetown.  After all, Doon was an artist who kept to himself.  And more importantly, a troll, of the claw-claw-bite-rend variety.  Why would anyone bother him?NEXT: 101 Dead Troll Jokes</blockquote>

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