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.
“Many…many…”
“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.
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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
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Notes:
(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!
this weekend. So I hope to finish it by Monday night sometime so then I can start posting Session #13.
