"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)


This Story hour keeps getting better and better

Now that I have started my own thread I realize that it better to get any feedback than no feedback

So thaks for your hard work

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darkhall-nestor said:

No, more like DOOKALOO!!!!

darkhall-nestor said:
This Story hour keeps getting better and better

Now that I have started my own thread I realize that it better to get any feedback than no feedback

So thaks for your hard work

Thanks for the thanks.

I have been working on Session #14 instead of schoolwork :heh: this weekend. So I hope to finish it by Monday night sometime so then I can start posting Session #13.


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Wow, Session #14 is taking longer to write than I thought it would. I am on page 10 of it and have not even gotten to the big fight at the end of the session. I may not get to post anything until Friday of this week, or Thursday night at the earliest.


First Post
Maybe Telie's amazingness with the bow will give him some more confidence in upcoming fights, but I kinda doubt it. Heat exhaustion is a nice touch. Looking forward to the "big fight!"



First Post
...amazingness with the bow...

I've been gaming for 13 years. That was easily the most incredible crit that I've ever seen.

Oooh, and don't forget his 'amazingness' was with a goblin bow (improvised weapon). Hahahaha.

I'm glad he's on our side......


Moderator Emeritus
Rastfar said:
Oooh, and don't forget his 'amazingness' was with a goblin bow (improvised weapon). Hahahaha.

I'm glad he's on our side......

Not improvised, just a size smaller, so he suffered a -2 to his attack roll. Still impressive, but not quite -4 for improvised. Then again, a Nat 20 is a Nat 20, no matter what your penalty. :)


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Session #13 – “Massacre at the King Stones” (part 1 of 2) (1)

“I heard something,” Victoria said, suddenly raising her hand to silence everyone. Well, not everyone. The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland had set up an ambush along the goblin trail, just north of the fork they had taken to the left and to the plateau lookout just a couple of hours before. (2) It was just that they took a long time deciding exactly where everyone should be positioned, and what the signal would be for action, and what constituted too many goblins and a quiet retreat rather than an attack. To further complicate matters Markos wanted to be sure everyone understood how the flash of his pyrotechnics spell would blind everyone if a signal was not created specifically for the casting of that spell, but no one paid much attention to him.

He walked back towards his spot at the rear of the line with Falco, mumbling. “You know…” He called back. “I have a perfectly good tactical resource to use against multiple foes and no one gives a sh*t!”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t bark insults at people all the time, people would be more apt to listen to you,” Telémahkos snapped back, and then caught himself, wincing at helping to provoke an argument. Markos came walking back, and soon Laarus and Victoria had walked over to Telémahkos’ hiding spot in the wedge of trees and thicket and the four them were discussing the details of the ambush plan once again.

Bleys was standing about twenty paces away up the trail behind a large tree, with Tymon crouched before it. Dunlevey was across the trail from where the others had gathered to continue their debate, and he heard the crunch of leaves and a snuffling sort of sound. Victoria heard it, too.

“I heard it, too!” Telémahkos replied to the militant with a shrill whisper. He shooed them away. Everyone hurried back to their spots, and Markos found Falco waiting in his. He crouched behind the tree the scout hid at.

“What is happening?” Falco asked, breaking his usual silent demeanor.

“We heard something… Like a dog, or a wolf… I think the goblins are coming…” the piratical mage replied.

“Ra, let us smite these evil creatures and show them your bright justice,” Laarus of Ra murmured in preparation for coming battle.

Dunlevey and Victoria spotted a bobbing head approaching through a wide brush strewn area of the trail. It wore an iron helm, and moved with an odd gait. The sellsword looked to the militant, pointed to his eyes and then held up one finger. She nodded her acknowledgement and turned to apprise Laarus of the approaching humanoid in a similar way. The priest of Ra turned to look at Tymon, on the other side of the trail, on the north side of the fork, but the servant was crouched way down with his head ducked, shaking with anticipation of battle.

As the goblin came into full view around the bushes, it became clear why it seemed to move so strangely. It rode a crouching wolf that pulled itself along on its belly as it sniffed the ground. There was a small saddle made of hide, but no reins. The goblin rode with its knees pinched tightly, a small bow on its lap. The wolf stopped on the trail not too far past Dunlevey, and nearly up to the point where Victoria would be clear into view. It had left Telémahkos’ hiding spot behind, and while he craned his head to keep it view, it turned around. He froze, noting that it was a strange looking wolf, squatter and broader, with pug snout and charred black fur. Suddenly it began it emit low yowls and grunts, and Telémahkos froze. The wolf was not a wolf at all, but a warg like those he had often heard stories of as a child. It was speaking its crude form of the goblin tongue to its rider.

It turned back around; seemingly satisfied that there was nothing behind it, but Telémahkos was not so sure he had not been noticed on the wind that was blowing up from the south.

Dunlevey must have thought the same thing, because he suddenly burst out of his hiding spot and ran at it. Victoria of Anhur, happy to begin the battle, charged out as well, and the warg deftly crouched back, drawing its mount out of the way of the militant’s long spear. And then she was on the ground, the warg pulling her ankle out from under her and worrying her calf. She struggled to get up, and saw the mounted goblin smile as pulled an arrow back, taking aim to fire point-blank at her prone form. She narrowed her eyes in determination, happy to meet her god, if this were it… But it was not her time; the arrow was loosed and buried itself into the dirt inches from her face. The warg’s sudden movement to avoid an arrow from Bleys’ bow had sent the shot awry. The watch-mage hurried up the trail, and Falco ran behind him, letting loose his own arrow, which flew over the combat harmlessly.

Telémahkos crept out to the middle of the widened portion of the path to look and see if any more goblins were coming.

The warg and rider sidestepped as Dunlevey tried to pen the monster in, and then it dashed through the thick brush towards the other trail past the fork, avoiding a desperate thrust from Victoria as she stood. It began to howl.

“Tymon! Kill it!” Bleys commanded as he hurried towards the other trail and let another arrow fly. The servant, who was now the closest to it, ducked out of the tree and fired his crossbow. The bolt was lost in the dry foliage.

Markos pulled back the handle on his gnomish repeating crossbow as he moved over to the other fork, but as he fired, Victoria came bursting through the brush after the warg, spear held out before her as she ran. The small bolt lodged itself deeply in the skirt of her mail, bruising her thigh. (3) However, it did not stop her, and the warg yelped as her spear scraped its hindquarters, drawing blood.

The warg turned quickly back to the original trail, hurrying through the area Telémahkos had once stood as the goblin cursed at it in their tongue. Laarus moved to block its path, while Victoria and Dunlevey gave chase with Tymon right behind them, hopping awkwardly as he tried to reload his crossbow.

“You can’t kill even one of these?” Telémahkos complained hurrying from where he had been keeping an eye out for more approaching goblins to stab the warg with the Steel Whip, now that the melee was close to him once again. The warg yowled and sped back towards the fork, the goblin astride it ducking Dunlevey’s sword.

“It’s over here, Master Bleys!” Tymon cried out, sending another bolt into the dirt as the warg sped past his view. The watch-mage paused and stepped back, but there was no clear shot until Dunlevey and Laarus crowded it back in his direction. Again the warg cried out with its wolfish voice in gobbledeegook as Bleys’ arrow punctured its front leg, and then fell out with violent rush of blood. It spun around again, and the goblin shrieked in fear as it noticed Falco step up. The goblin fell off the warg, the arrow through its chest.

Relieved of its rider, the warg yelped and made a dash down the trail to the north, in the direction the party had first come from.

“May Ra stop this dark beast from informing the other vermin of this wood of our presence!” Laarus chanted, and a golden beam of light flashed out of the sky, burning into the fur of the warg. It screamed a disturbingly human scream, and its sudden stumbled betrayed the fact that the holy light of Ra’s Glory had also blinded it.

Falco turned as the warg bumbled past him, and let loose an arrow that buried itself in the scraggly knot of fur at the nape of its neck. The warg continued to flee as fast as it dared, desperately moving from left to right, and painfully scraping the side of a tall rock as it went past it. Telémahkos and Bleys hustled after it. It turned still confused and blind and then yowled again, as Telémahkos thrust his magical rapier deeply into its side. Again it took off towards the north, but by this time Bleys the Aubergine has scrambled to the top of the tall rock for a better vantage, and just when it seemed the warg would get away, the watch-mage’s arrow pierced its skull and it tumbled in the dirt, splattering the brown leaves with its blackish blood.

Meanwhile, Victoria of Anhur was up at the left fork, where the trail widened, on the look out for more goblins. She took the time to call to her god and close some of her wounds as she waited.

“One god forsaken scout,” Telémahkos complained, as Tymon wandered about the area of the battle collecting what bolts and arrows he could, and Laarus marched up to join Victoria. She pointed ahead as he reached her, and stepped to the right to stand behind a tree. The priest of Ra noticed the top of two goblin heads creeping from bush to bush from the same direction the warg-rider had come, and he turned and signaled the others, holding up two fingers. Markos and Bleys were the first to noticed and passed the news back, as the latter crept forward.

“Tymon, stick with Falco and fire when he does,” Telémahkos told his servant, and Tymon obeyed, theough Falco glared at him as if to say, ‘you are too close.’ Dunlevey moved up towards the front of the line, his armor ringing with every step, causing everyone to cringe instinctually.

Materia maxima! Markos cast and suddenly Dunlevey began to grow, his head sand shoulders stretching high above the brush line.

“Dookaloo!” The goblins cried, and now the sellsword could see that there were many more than two goblins in that area, as they raised their bows to aim for the new large target. He took a giant step to his right and crouched behind a tall rock the best he could, so the goblins all trained their bows on Victoria instead. She leapt back and forth to avoid them, but one caught her in the forearm. She winced with pain and withdrew deeper into the brush to prepare for the second part of the battle.

“Anhur! Battle is upon us! Prepare my companions and bless their efforts!” All those around her, felt the reassurance of divine energy guiding them to victory.

Markos moved forward near Falco and Tymon, as the latter ducked out from behind a tree to take a shot at the only goblin visible from their position. He missed. Markos pulled a torch and with a magic word it was lit up. (4) Falco turned and hissed, “Remember what I said about the dry state of the forest!”

“It is only one torch,” Markos replied with disdain, rolling his eyes. Falco sneered.

The goblin archers advanced. They wore small wooden helmets, and leather armor studded with polished knucklebones.

“We’ll circle around,” Bleys whispered to Telémahkos, as the two of them were hidden along the southwestern fork, and he began to cut around the brush to get behind the goblins. Telémahkos, however, did not quite obey, spying his heavy crossbow and bolts not far from where he had been originally hidden, and from where Victoria now stood, he crept over there and picked them up, hoping he remained unseen, but his hope did not come to fruition. As a group of five goblins armed with spears came up from behind the archers swarmed around Victoria, ducking out of the way of her longspear, one of them bumped into the hidden noble. With a cry of alarm it spun around and thrust its spear. Luckily, the suddenness of the attack, caused it to go offline, and Victoria was able to knock the curtain of spears around her out of the way with her own, keeping the goblins at bay. She was able to withdraw enough to call upon Anhur once again, this time to grant her bull’s strength.

Laarus hurried forward, ducking arrows from the line of goblin archers. The priest of Ra was doing a quick count of how many he could see. Five archers before him, five spearmen around Victoria, and at least another five moving in from further down the trail. He heard Falco cry out behind him as a goblin arrow clipped him as he advanced, Tymon running behind him. The portly servant complaining, “I’m supposed to stay with you!”

Dunlevey’s loping steps took him over to the militant of Anhur to aid her.

Materia maxima! Markos cast again, and this time Laarus grew to nearly thirteen feet tall, drawing another cry of fear and wonder from the goblins. The diminutive mage then ducked behind the rock, calling to the group. “When next I call upon magic, eyes forward!”

The priest of Ra’s pale grim countenance, grew all the grimmer as he stepped up to smash a goblin archer with the increased reach of his flail, now larger than the goblin target itself, but the archer hopped back, and it and its companions sent a flurry of small arrows to pierce the priest’s armor, drawing many tiny lines of blood.

Bleys moved into the clearing behind the battle, firing arrows into the fray as Telémahkos finally joined him. The blond noble tapped the watch-mage on the shoulder and pointed to the south, there, just behind one of the branches obscuring the rest of the goblin trail, was another rider upon a warg.

“It took six to take one down before, and now there are only two of us,” Telémahkos sighed, trying to hide the fear in his voice with exasperation.

The battle raged on the trail and in the brush. Dunlevey cleaved one of the goblins in two, but again and again tiny arrows rained on the warriors and priests, ringing against their armor, drawing bruises and blood. Laarus managed to smash another into a pulp with one heavy blow, taking advantage of their moving back bit by bit in order to fire on him without leaving themselves open. They could not move fast or carefully enough.

“Now! Everybody!” Markos warned. “He leapt atop the rock so that all the goblins might see him clearly, holding his lit torch over his head and called out, “Pyroclasticus lux!” (5)

The torch flashed brightly, even as it went out and suddenly there was a great cry from many of the goblins. They were blinded. Unfortunately, Falco, Dunlevey, Tymon and Telémahkos were blinded as well.

“Master! Master! I can’t see!” Tymon cried out.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Falco said, an uncharacteristic note of fear in his rarely heard voice.

Dunlevey swung his great sword around wildly.

Telémahkos spun his blade around defensively, the Steel Whip humming.

“Just stay down,” Bleys said, wary of Telie’s weapon. He let an arrow loose and a nearby goblin dropped.

Victoria of Anhur skewered a goblin near her, who while not blind, was startled by the flash and left itself open to the attack. She flicked the little crumpled body off the end of her spear towards a blind goblin that was spinning around and shrieking. Others were trying to withdraw more calmly, but ended up tangled in the brush, complaining to each other in their guttural tongue.

“Stay calm! It’ll last less than a minute,” Markos called to his blind companions as he made his way through the chaos. He squeezed an adder’s stomach in his right hand and then clapped it against the powdered rhubarb leaf in the left. An arrow made of pure acid flew from his hands and struck the goblin atop the warg. It screamed, and the scream was echoed by the line of withdrawing goblin as the enlarged Laarus stepped into their line, cleaving through their midst with his flail, crushing bone and sending sprays of goblin blood in high arcs. Victoria was making her way through the line of goblins near her as well, stabbing one, and knocking it into another.

The warg took off down the trail, dropping its rider, who lay quiet for a moment, but then exploded into a sudden writhing pain that made it stop moving for good, as the conjured acid finished its sizzling.

“Right in front of you, Telémahkos!” Bleys warned his friend, as he dropped his bow and drew his saber, slicing the face open of the approaching goblin. It was blind as well, and it shrieked, not knowing what hit it.

Telémahkos thrust his rapier in that general direction, missing terribly.

“Dunlevey! Move towards my voice!” Markos called to the hireling to get him away from danger, and behind some brush.

“I still can’t see!” Dunlevey said, as he stumbled in that direction.

As their vision came back, Falco found himself crowded behind the rock with Tymon. “Out of my way, fat boy,” he sneered, as he headed back into the fray, putting an arrow to his longbow.

“That’s not nice!” Tymon whined, giving chase now that he could see.

“Ah-ha!” Markos cried out, thrusting his dagger at an injured goblin, just as its sight came back. He cut it, but it did not fall.

“Damn it, Markos!” Telémahkos cried, and thrust his rapier through the goblin’s neck. As it fell, he turned to the mage. “Can’t even deal with a blind goblin…”

Eager to get back to fighting, Dunlevey rushed at the remaining goblin spearman. It thrust at him in a panic.

“Let it live!” Markos called to Dunlevey. “Telémahkos! Tell it we’ll spare it!”

“Yes!” Bleys joined in. “Tell him to put down his weapon…”

Telémahkos barked at the goblin in the hobgoblin tongue, comparing it female genitalia and threatening to cook it on a spit. It dropped it spear and crawled over to Telémahkos, kissing the noble’s feet.

…to be continued…


(1) Session #13 was played on Sunday, July 29th, 2007.

(2) See Session #12.

(3) Markos fumbled. The result was Reflex save (DC 15) or hit friend, half damage.

(4) Pretidigitation can be used to light a torch as a standard action.

(5) This spell is pyrotechnics.


First Post
At least Markos is trying to be helpful. <grin> Although I had a little trouble figuring out where everyone was during this thing with the multiple trails, I enjoyed the more challenging run in with the goblins.



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handforged said:
At least Markos is trying to be helpful. <grin> Although I had a little trouble figuring out where everyone was during this thing with the multiple trails, I enjoyed the more challenging run in with the goblins.


I don't know if this will help, but the battle took place along a narrow trail running basically from north to south, with a fork at about 45 degrees on the south end, splitting southwest (to the lookout where the first goblin fight was) and to the southeast. The latter widened a bit, but was obscured by lines of bushes before narrowing about 45 feet beyond (this was where Telie and Bleys were fighting the warg-rider near the end. Between the two forks wa a wedge of trees and brush, with enough of an open area to allow hindered movement between the two branches of the forking trail, which was where the first warg and rider were running round and round in circles being chased.

The tall stone that Bleys climbed up on was at the north end of the trail.


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Session #13 – “Massacre at the King Stones” (part 2 of 2)

You speak the tongue of the masters!” It said in its own language, groveling. Telémahkos gave it a hard kick to the face and it fell back sniveling.

Laarus gathered the bodies with the help of Dunlevey and Tymon, while Telémahkos stripped them of anything of value after having bound the captive goblin. In the end they had slain sixteen goblins and one warg, but only collected a few handful of worn copper coins, some of which were Thrician, but others were very worn and unidentifiable. They covered the pile of bodies with some brush.

It was agreed to return the grove they had made camp in and recover from their wounds.

As they made their way back, dragging the goblin along, it chided them in its tongue. Telémahkos could only understand some of it, but was certain he was threatening them with being overtaken by another patrol of goblins.

“Shut your hole!” He shouted and punched the bound goblin again. It whimpered, but was quiet when he raised his sandaled foot again.

Back at the grove, as the others cleaned off their clothing and armor, or rolled out their bedrolls in order to stretch out for a bit, Telémahkos did his best to interrogate the goblin. The differences between the hobgoblin tongue and gobbledeegook made it difficult.

“It is a miracle that goblins can communicate with each other at all,” he complained to the others, noting that the goblin’s stupidity and willingness to lie didn’t help either.

“How many goblins are in your tribe?” he asked.


“How many?”

“More than hand and one and hand and one and foot and foot,” the goblin nodded quickly.

Telémahkos sighed. “It does not know numbers,” he said to the other. “I am guessing it is saying its tribe is more than twenty-two or so… But I think that was a fair guess regardless…”

Question regarding the Tuk-Tuk also yielded no new information to the blond Briareus. He could not even confirm that they were a tribe of kobolds, but he reinforced his displeasure in true hobgoblin style, slapping, punching and kicking his captive whenever an answer did not meet his satisfaction.

After an angry exchange, Telémahkos grew quiet and then asked a question again, and then rewarded the reply with another kick. He turned to the others.

“It may be lying, but it mentioned something about its tribe having been visited by hobgoblin messengers or ambassadors… Something like that… From the far north… It called them the tribe of ‘the Sleeping Lizard,’ and they were seeking to recruit them…”

“Sleeping Lizard? Could that be the Hobgoblins of the Blue Claw?” Laarus asked.

“I fear so, and it matches it up with news we heard of a passage from Westin-Scherp Muur to the south that those hobgoblins were using,” Telémahkos replied. (1)

“How long ago did they come?” Bleys asked.

Telémahkos fell to trying to communicate with the goblin once more, growing more and more frustrated, and thus abusive. No one else seemed to care about the treatment the goblin was getting, though Dunlevey and Falco fell to watching the perimeter of the grove in case any monsters approached.

“They are still there,” Telémahkos finally said to the others. “But it almost impossible to tell how many there are. I guess, five… If that is what it means by ‘one hand’… But it’s so stupid, who knows…?”

Some more wrangling and beating led to information about a tribe shaman who had “great power and danger.” It also mentioned a “box of magic sticks,” which the party took for the “box of wands”. He had no more information about the hobgoblins, except that they came from a tunnel “far away”, but Telémahkos was also able to get an estimate of the number of wargs with the tribe; somewhere between fifteen and twenty.

“I wonder if it could learn magic?” Markos said apropos of nothing, as Telémahkos was slapping the goblin around. “It would make for an fascinating social experiment.”

“That cannot be a good idea,” Bleys said in his flat tone.

“You must be jesting,” Victoria frowned.

Markos shrugged. “I am just thinking we can learn more by being kind to it, rather than letting Telémahkos make himself feel like a tough man by beating on a little creature…”

“But it is not kind, nor would it understand kindness,” Bleys replied. “Goblins are malicious and cruel, and cruelty is all they can understand. Though I can perhaps understand your sympathy… I am sure you were not treated with much kindness when you were a captive on a pirate ship…”

“We cannot know what it would understand,” Markos shrugged again. “It may be cruel in the short term, but in the long term, kindness may be much more beneficial for it and for us…”

“Yes, perhaps it might even become the next Margrave,” Victoria smirked with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

“Fash-nash the Unconquerable is the name of their chief, and the chief is not the shaman,” Telémahkos said, wiping sweat from his brow. Every little bit of information took several minutes of wrangling and re-wording and a few slaps and punches. It was hard work.

When Telémahkos looked ready to give up, Bleys the Aubergine drew his sabre and stood beside the bound goblin. “Can I kill it now?”

The goblin looked up and though it did not understand the common tongue, it gathered the watch-mage’s meaning, and immediately fell to groveling at Telémahkos’ feet, licking his sandals and squirming with woe.

“Say that again?” Telémahkos barked at the goblin in the hobgoblin tongue, and the goblin yapped away.

“I think it is offering to show us to the tribe’s camp,” the young Briareus translated.

Hoping to have more luck, Bleys cast his comprehend languages spell. Though the goblin would still not be able to understand them very well, he would be able to understand it.

“If we can find the goblin camp we can find and kill the hobgoblin ambassadors,” Victoria said.

“Goblins don’t seem too tough, and we’ve killed somewhere around thirty of them, right? How many can there be left?” Telémahkos asked. “I fear these hobgoblins are just one of many groups recruiting for some effort in the north… If we can kill these hobgoblins, or perhaps capture one, it will have made this trip down here well worth it…”

As exhaustion from a long day marching around and fighting goblins crept over them, Telémahkos tied the goblin captive tightly to a tree and gagged it. The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland set watches and sacked out.

Balem, the 26th of Quark - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)

At the end of the first watch, Bleys woke Tymon as he was to take the second.

“Tymon, I have been wanting to thank you for your service,” Bleys said to him, and the awkward balding barrel of a man smiled with weak fear. “You do your family proud, and your contribution is valued.”

“Eh… Uh… Um… Thank you? Oh, thank you,” Tymon looked down and then up and then sideways in the dim and fading moonlight. “Time to watch…”

“Yes, here… This will help, for an hour or two at least,” Bleys said, and used an arcane spell to grant him low-light vision.

“Oooh… Wow…” Tymon cooed and smiled.

It was less than an hour later when he was waking Telémahkos. “Master! Goblin voices!”

Out across the open plain they heard gruff voices and high-pitched cries. The howls of wolves were heard as well. It was in the direction of the watering hole, but they could see nothing out in the darkness.

Telémahkos woke Victoria and then crawled over to Bleys to wake him as well.

“They are probably just fighting over the watering hole,” Bleys replied and rolled over, pulling a towel over his face and scrunched deeper into this roll.

A few minutes later a long mortal howl stopped very suddenly and then all was silent.


It was not long after dawn, many hours later that everyone was awake, Laarus and Falco had taken the last watch, and Markos awoke halfway through, as if by habit. After the mages and priests prepared their spells, they all breakfasted, and talked over their plans in the usual mode. Some wanted to go directly after the goblins, but other wanted to see if the goblin captive could lead them to where the hobgoblin tunnel might be.

Occasionally, Telémahkos would leave the argument in order to interrogate the goblin some more. “Where the land meets the sky,” he said, as he came back to the others.

“What?” Markos asked.

“That is where the hobgoblins’ tunnel is, according to the goblin,” Telémahkos explained.

“The horizon?” Laarus asked.

“In other words, ‘far far away’ or ‘anywhere’,” Telie said, rolling his eyes. “It is a dumb goblin with a limited and highly skewed view of the world. It is not going to know…”

It was decided they would return to the scene of their last battle with the goblins and see if they might be able to ambush another group of goblins and see if they might capture one of the lieutenants. Telémahkos was binding up his goblin captive with a makeshift leash when Falco called everyone’s attention to growing dust on the horizon, coming from the east.

Their worry dissipated as it became clear that it was Kermit and Duckhunter, leading Timotheus to the grove upon his horse.

“Why did we have to march all the way here in the heat and Tim gets to ride his horse?” Markos complained.

“A single halfling might be able to bring a single horse back to the Ray-Ree for care, but do you think he would have managed with eight horses?” Victoria asked by way of explanation.

Markos grumbled.

Despite still looking pale and having his words occasionally framed by a rasping cough, Timotheus insisted he felt well enough to take part in the party’s explorations. (2) He was filled in on what had happened and on the information regarding the hobgoblin ‘ambassadors,’ and did not hesitate to give his opinion.

“If we wipe out every goblin in that tribe there won’t be any to be recruited,” he said. “And if we are lucky, we might be able to kill or capture these hobos before they head back north…”

Timotheus, who had made a study of goblinlore (3), was certain that there could not be more than two or three times more goblins than they had already faced; that is, if their numbers were accurate. “Two or three more ambushes on them and we can take on whatever is left in their camp… However, we do need to do something about the wargs ability to track us by scent, or to notice we are waiting in ambush because of it…”

“What about skunk cabbage?” Bleys asked.

“Skunk cabbage?” Markos asked.

Bleys the Aubergine said he remembered several patches of the stuff by a stream they had passed only an hour or two’s march from the grove. If the stuff grew commonly enough in the area, and they masked their scent with it, perhaps the wargs would be fooled.

“It could work,” Kermit said, when he was asked to lead them to the stream.

Once again, Ra’s Glory showed them no mercy, and the march out in the open to the stream left them feeling drained, but splashing in the pitiable stream refreshed them. Bleys picked a few of the cabbages and tossed them to the others, breaking off pieces and wincing at the foul odor.

Laarus Raymer of Ra watched with disdain as the others broke part the thick leaves and rubbed them on their clothes and skin. He did not take part. “I will not roll around in filth,” he said, and turned to walk away and get some shade beneath a small tree. Before he had walked very far, Telémahkos sent one of skunk cabbages flying to smash into the back of the priest’s head and neck. As the priest began to turn back around, a second cabbage striking his side, this one sent flying by Markos, startled him. Timotheus’ laugh was interrupted by another skunk cabbage from the slight mage striking him in the face. A moment later, Markos was choking as Tim held him down and rubbed one in his mouth and face. Bleys tossed a cabbage into Tim's face as well, as the big man looked up with a smile from teaching Markos a lesson. Soon, a skunk cabbage fight erupted, with the dull green leafy bulbs being thrown in all directions.

At first Victoria was scandalized by the display, but in no time she joined in the fun, while Laarus, fuming, stalked off. The captured goblin stared in amazement. When the fun was over, they lay around recovering their strength, and drinking water, and Bleys filled a sack with some extra cabbage, before they all headed back to the grove.

End of Session #13


(1) Timotheus heard this rumor in InterSession #8.6

(2) Tim’s player had missed the previous session, and played Dunlevey until there was a reasonable time for Timotheus rejoin the party.

(3) Yes, someone actually spent skill points on Knowledge (goblinlore). A fighter, no less! I love it!
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