The Heroes of Winterhaven - updated 8th June - Ryam Plays Dice

[Mathew_Freeman]

And For Pudding

(The following Adventure logs were written by crater)
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Three figures stood around a bulging sack that sat squat on the floor of Winterhaven Keep like a black pudding, complete with black congealing slime trail from where the bag, and it’s contents, had been dragged across the flagstones.

“I have heard that it is customary in human lands to provide evidence on collection of a bounty.” announced the first figure, a tall armoured Eladrin knight. With a gesture he invited the man opposite to investigate the bundle. From around the oaken table stepped Lord Padraig, tentatively.

“I am a man of action,” he assured, “I have seen a thing or two in my time…” He reached into the sack with both hands and, with a grimace, retrieved a grizzly ball of blood-caked hair. Within the hair lurked a face that bore an expression of agony.

“That’s Irontooth that one!” chirped the last and littlest figure, a young halfling, “You can tell from the nashers!”

Lord Paraig discovered that the thing in his hands did indeed bear metalwork within its silently screaming maw.

“You must understand, we abhor violence. At least… the tiefling does.” continued the halfling brightly, “But I can assure you the goblins had no ear for reason!”

Lord Paraig pondered this for a moment.

“Perhaps your friend may console himself that you wouldn’t be getting paid if they had.” spoke the elderly warrior. “You have done this town a great service, brave adventurers. I would shake you by the hands… were I in a position to do so.”

Leaving the keep the two curious fellows blinked in the cold sun, the frost of the night before made slippery work of the steps as they descended.

“Well Aran, my fine and furtive friend, I have it that, in human realms, the next stop after collection of a bounty is traditionally the tavern…”

“Tis the case all over, Elwanen,” replied Aran, “And of that you can be certain!”

Next update - Introducing: Fangorn!

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Something From the Garden

“And that, gentlemen, is how I came to befriend Fangorn the Talking Tree!” The odd procession made its way up the winding staircase of the wizards tower. Valthrun led the way, speaking ahead of himself in the certainty that all others would be listening.

Behind him a lanky creature made of gnarled oak climbed slowly, doubled at the trunk like an old man yet its powerful limbs of knotted branches taking several steps in a stride. It dragged behind it roots from it’s broad feet, while the spindly twigs that might be taken for hair scraped the close walls of the winding staircase, leaving chalky trails.

Fangorn rumbled and creaked appreciatively as the wizard recounted the tale of ten years past. Behind it, a red haired tiefling who had been listening intently brushed back his mane.

“A walking, talking tree (if I may be so bold), a magical garden that grows in a cave (a wondrous one at that (that is not to say that a magical garden that grows in a cave is not as of itself entirely un-wondrous)), and a ‘Heartstone’ which contains the very essence of life itself to be used for good or for evil (as the bearer of the Heartstone should be inclined (by volition as much as by accident (as much of inclination is unless I am much mistaken))). I must confess I find this all simply intriguing.”

The wizard was pleased. He stopped at a solid looking door that barred the way to the seldom seen ‘middle layer’ of his tower.

“And you will no doubt be intrigued further to learn that, finally, I have learned to harness the power of the Heartstone once again.” Valthron folded his arms, leaving his words a moment to descend upon the ears of those who were below him.

Reaching the landing, the tiefling joined the wizard as they sheltered momentarily under Fangorn’s boughs. Finally appeared the scrawny figure of the warlock, who didnt seem to have been paying attention. Instead he was engrossed in the movements of a spider that crossed his palm and the back of his hand in turn as he turned it this way and that.

“Fangorn my old friend prepare yourself, and you two… just don’t touch anything.” Valthron turned a key in the door and it swung open.

“Behold..”

Before them lay a tangled flora filled grotto of fey-like wonder. Creepers criss-crossed the walls speckled with brightly coloured fruits, spikey leafed shrubbery jostled for space, some with leaves like blades, others with leaves like spades, others still with leaves like maids with spades, and where there were no creepers nor lethal-leaved shrubs grew toadstools of near infinite varieties from the ground, the walls, even down from the ceiling. From somewhere within the melee could be heard, although not seen, a babbling brook, and in mid-air was suspended a faintly glowing transluscent stone.

“Well bless my blackberries,” remarked Fangorn “Haven’t the Rhodadaffodildrums done well!”

The group slowly entered the chamber. The warlock squatted beside a patch of toadstools, setting the spider down upon a spotted cap. The funghi trembled slighlty and a moment later the cap quickly curled upwards, engulfing the tiny creature. With a final gulp, the cap unfurled once more and the spider was nowhere to be seen.

“This is the most beautiful garden I have ever beheld.” murmured the unhealthy looking warlock from behind a long veil of matted hair.

Fangorn stepped with gentle and surprising grace amongst the foliage, pausing to stroke a sapling that had drooped and twisted into the shape of a noose. The wizard studied his visitors reactions one by one.

“Am I to believe (as I believe I am) that this fantastical floral foray is the product of that suspendant stone there, the Heartstone?” inquired the curious tiefling.

“And no small investment of painstaking yet inspired research!” improved the wizard. “It is with no small degree of pride that I invite you all here this morning, and yet, as joyful as I am to see my old friend Fangorn once more, your return troubles me greatly. It troubles me for it confirms my suspiscions that all is not well in the land.”

The tiefling turned to the wizard. “I couldnt help noticing (for my senses are (if I may humbly offer) attuned to such matters) that there is (infact) unrest in the town this very morn, as if (and please do conceed me (if you will) poetic licence) dark clouds had gathered upon the metaphorical horizon. It is (if you will allow) an observation (and (I must profer) no more than that (at least at this point)) which strikes me as…. curiouser still, it being the case that (as is indeed the case) the town (and the lands around) have recently been rid of (what I might suggest be termed as) ‘a menace of goblins’. Is this indeed the ill to which you refer?”

“It is indeed.” replied Valthron, “It can only mean that a dark force has once again awoken. The rift is opening, slowly, but this is how these things happen: signs and portents, shifts in the aether, flux within the ordered states of energies, and then before you know it it’s too late.” warned the wizard ominously.

Valthrun paused, beckoning his guests to gather beside the Rhodadaffodildrums. “I have seen that you are curious and capable adventurers.” he began in a hushed voice, “It is time that Fangorn and I shared with you the tragic tale of the Keep on The Shadowfell…”

For the full details of what happened in the Keep, I have to say you'd need to go check the original module. Sorry, but crater has not seen fit to write all of that info down for you, my loyal readers!

Next update: Worries in Winterhaven, and an old man has a bad dream!

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Worries in Winterhaven

Again, this write-up is from crater:

“And so I leapt through the window into the maidens bedroom, leaving the warden with nothing but a basketfull of parsnips and a look of surprise!” The farmers and the fishmonger roared with laughter as the halfling finished his story. From over the top of his tankard he espied the gloomy figure of Sabbat Fau entering the busy inn. Aran nudged Elwanen, who had been growing restless. Elwanen looked up and nodded across the room to the warlock.

“I’m going to talk to the prisoner.” stated Elwanen, stepping back over the bench and making his way purposefully toward the door. Folk got out of his way.

“Well, we merry folk are diverted with ales and tales,” continued the halfling to his audience “but elsewhere fellows duck and dart with anxious glances. Why so grim jolly townsfolk?”

The group hunched closer as the townsfolk exchanged anxious glances. “My goat won’t milk, and the youngun’s crying all day with hunger though we feed him corn and suet aplenty!” confessed the first farmer, lowering his mug.

“Why only this morning I saw two crows perched on my gable, a bad sign if ever there was one!” warned the other farmer, poking the air with his pipe for emphasis.

“No matter how much I scrub, I cant get the smell of trout off my hands!” offered the fishmonger. There was an uncomfortable silence.

At length, there came a voice from the end of the table. “I dreamt of shadow.” whispered Elian the Old from beneath his cowl. “I dreamt of the darkest night that pursued me across the fields where the cows lay down and died as it passed over them.” The farmers and the fishmonger clutched their tankards and pipes with whitening knuckles. Aran raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “It followed me through the town where babies screamed.” The two farmers looked at each other with pallened faces. “And when I fell finally it came upon me…”

”...And?” ushered the awestruck fishmonger.

”...And I woke up. I couldnt get back to sleep, not even after a mug of nutmeg wiffin. Strange how I never dream of flying. Things are not right my friend, and even the crows know it!”
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The red haired tiefling watched as the remaining townsfolk hurried homewards. One of them was a spy.

An old woman appeared in the light of an upstairs window. She reeled in her washing and beat the frost out of it, each garment sending a light flurry of flakes into the evening, before closing the shutters and fixing the bolt.

Des pulled his cloak about him. Down in the square a young boy darted along with a bundle of twigs in his arms, glancing quickly at the strange priest before turning a corner. Across the street a flowergirl stepped cautiously from the shadows clutching her basket to her chest. With a backwards look, she opened a door and stepped inside. Nearby, low muttering could be heard from within the blacksmiths workshop.

Des thought to himself “Tis indeed curious. I normally have a sense for such things (an insight which has served me well in my calling) and yet I can glean nothing of note from this nights to-ings and fro-ings (for I would (if I may) describe them so).”

Next update: Conversations in Winterhaven, and Aran, once more, spins a tale in Wrafton's Inn.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Knuckle Sandwich

crater's Adventure Logs continue:

The warlock stood impassively against one wall of the small cell. In the far corner, the gnome prisoner squatted, his hands bound. Nothing could be heard but a low whispering, a sibillant hiss that seemed to convey meaning, but words had it not. The gnome craned forwards to try to make out what the still figure was uttering but found himself unsettled only further.

An hour passed. The stones of the cell floor seemed colder than before and the single beam of moonlight that pierced the lofty window had traced a path across the prisoners face.

“Are you going to stand there muttering all night?” called the gnome, yet there came no reply but the almost imperceptable hissing. Another hour passed until the uneasy quiet was broken.

“Speak all.” uttered the warlock.

“Or what? You’ll stare at me and whisper some more?” replied the gnome. Slowly the warlock turned and left the cell. In his place entered a tall Eladrin knight, whose armour captured momentarily the light of the moon. The prisoner shifted where he sat. As the knight approached his eyes widened…
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One For The Road:

”...And I couldnt help myself, I simply had to toss it back! Well the wolf was grateful and the grocer’s wife was none the wiser!” finished the halfling. This time the laughter was subdued as the farmers and the fishmonger fidgeted with their tankards and pipes.

“Oh well, had any strange dreams lately?” chirped the halfling. One farmer looked at the other, who in turn looked at the fishmonger.

“I’d better be getting back or the bairn will wake the dogs.” said the first.

“It’s time I turned in too, I must be up early to milk the goat.” agreed the next. “If it will yield at all I shall be lucky.”

“I’d better be checking on the wife, she’ll be worried sick on a night like this.” confirmed the fishmonger wringing his hands.

“Well then, I suppose goodnight it is!” chimed the halfling as the inn began to empty.
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Something To Chew On:

The tiefling priest pondered his predicament by the well in the quiet market square.

“Tradition has it that the secretive sorcerer (who warns wayfarers away from the source of such a sinister shadow) should be the one to be wary of, yet I have spoken with him at length on the subject of his concerns and I doubt not his motives.

In the second instance one should turn ones attentions to the herbalist (who hastily hurries betwixt hide and home.) (Can one hurry hastily? (I rather fancy one can if the matter is pressing enough.)) Yet tonight I have not beheld this bringer of balms.

In the third it is the appearance of innocence that indights the insidious (that is to say that ‘a rose that is rotten reeks’ (or perhaps that should be ‘every rose has it’s thorn’.)) But with only wild speculation it would not do to lay blame upon such a delightful young thing.”

Des sighed, watching his breath rise before him. At length he departed, and when strange eyes looked out upon where he had been, all that remained was a puff of warm breath in the cold night air.

Next update: Another short side-note, filling in one of the things that made Theron the Wizard he is today...

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

A Taste Of Things To Come

The warlock stood once more in one corner of the dark cell. The prisoner this time lay groaning on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The murmurring hiss began once more.

“I know nothing!” cried the gnome, “I’m a mercenary, I find things and the goblins pay me. All I know is that Balgrom wants a mirror. They’re up to something in the old keep and theres too many of them so dont bother looking.”

“Speak of the way in. What have you seen?”

“Only the staircase, it leads down and then all of a sudden they surround you, goblins upon goblins! Theres no way through! I hope they get you! I hope they get you all!”
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And, as another side note, I present the tale of "Theron and the Tooth Goblins":

"Unctious, I think that big'un's looking at us," said the first of the two tiny blue goblins marching across Theron's bed.

"Don't be stupid, Blimm," said the second tiny goblin. "Big'un's can't see us, light or dark. Look, I'll prove it."

Theron, who had the covers of his bed pulled right up over his nose, watched the squatter of the two tiny goblins stomp in his direction, wave his knobbly little arms and shout, "Oi! Can you see me, big'un?"

Theron nodded.

The goblins gasped. Blimm cast himself down and covered his head with his oversized hands. "He's gonna eat us! He's gonna eat us!"

"Can't eat us if he can't catch us!" said Unctious, and he produced a spear the size of a toothpick from somewhere Theron didn't see. "Can't catch us if he can't see us!" He advanced with the spear held high.

"You can't hurt me if I'm under the covers," Theron said, his voice muffled by his blanket.

Unctious paused and his brow clenched in concentration. "Aha! That only works if you know our names, big'un!" He stepped forward again.

"You're Unctious and the other one's Blimm," he said.

Blimm wailed in terror and Unctious went a terribly pale shade of blue. "How did you know that?" He rounded on Blimm. "Did you tell him?"

"No!"

"Well I didn't tell him." He squinted at Theron. "Are you some kind of wizard then, big'un?"

Theron considered this. "I'm a boy," he said.

"Would a wizard admit he's a wizard, Unctious?" Blimm asked.

Unctious scratched his chin and despite clearly having no idea said, "No he wouldn't, Blimm. They're cagey ones, wizards, not given to letting you in on their game. That way they can spring the rules on you as they like, just as this big'un has upon us poor working lads. ‘Ere," he said, peering more closely at Theron, "what's wrong with you? Your skin's the same colour as Blimm's here."

"He's the same colour as you, Unctious, not me," said Blimm.

"I said he's the same colour as you and that's the end of the matter!" Unctious roared. He looked at Theron again. "Well, must be a wizardly reason for it, I have no doubt."

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" Theron asked, who didn't like talking about the colour of his skin and anyway, the two creatures looked the same colour to him.

Unctious fished around in the bag strung over his shoulder with a length of twine, which was very unfortunately the only thing he was wearing. He pulled out a small white shape he needed both hands to hold up.

"Is that a tooth?" Theron asked.

They nodded. "From the big'un in the next room. She left it under her pillow, like she didn't know she's throwing away a fortune."

"That's my sister's tooth?" Theron said. "You're tooth fairies?"

"Tooth goblins," Unctious snarled. Blimm scowled and nodded.

"But you can't take her tooth," Theron said. "The fairy's supposed to. And she leaves a brass coin behind."

"Oh we did that," Unctious said. "Don't know why you want it, worthless scrap it is, whereas this" – he brandished the tooth – "will buy me a fancy spider web cape. I shall look right dapper, I shall."

"I thought you said it would buy us spider web capes," Blimm said.

"I did say that, Blimm my lad, and that's what it will do," Unctious replied. "Speaking only about my spider web cape just happened to fit the flow of conversation better. You'd know that if you knew your grammar."

"I did know her, Unctious, and so did you. She used to hit you on the head with her bag."

"We agreed never to speak of that again, Blimm," Unctious said, going purple. "Never. Which means not ever."

"You mean you take all our teeth?" Theron asked. "It's always you two?"

"You're on our route," Blimm said.

"Not feeling a loose tooth now, are you?" Unctious asked, beady eyes brightening. "We could give it a little nudge while we're here."

"No!" Theron slid deeper under the covers. "I thought the tooth fairy had wings."

Unctious smacked his lips. "I could do with some fairy wings. By your leave, big'un wizard, we'll be on our way. Got three more bedrooms to check tonight and I like our chances with Gilly Baker on the corner."

"Uh, sure."

They waved to him. "You have yourself a fine night then!"

"And eat plenty of hard foods!"

They marched the rest of the way across his bed, bickering about which of them told him their names, before dropping off the side and out of sight. Theron thought he wouldn't sleep again, but he did.

Once he'd made sure none of his teeth felt likely to fall out soon.
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Many thanks to Khynal for writing that! It originally came out of me asking him how Theron sees magic working - whether it's by force of will, by channeling the energy flow of magic in the world, by Weaving Magick through his hands, or what.

Next update we're back to the game itself as our party of (mostly) intrepid adventures enter the Keep On The Shadowfell for the first time!

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Into The Keep

Again, thanks to crater for taking over this job.
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If there had been anyone watching they would have seen a party of adventurers emerge from the woods; a spritely young halfling ranger, an eladrin paladin, a tiefling cleric, a warlock, and a tree creature that walked and talked and went under the name of Fangorn.

It would seem as if they walked casually across the field towards the ominous ruin of the keep, chatting amongst themselves as they took in the bracing air of the early spring. Then it would have appeared that they entered the ruin, descending a dark flight of stone stairs.

At that point however, they _were _seen, by a guard as it happens. The goblin had been on edge all night, with strict orders to look out for intruders, and the memory of ‘what happened to the last guard’ fresh in his mind should he not be vigilant enough.

It came as some surprise then to the wary goblin when a large group of ‘intruders’ came strolling into the first chamber of the keep full of chitter-chat and banter, apparently heedless of his presence. He thought he best signal for backup while he found out what they wanted.

“You there!” grunted the goblin “State your business!”

The adventurers seemed startled, and peering into the dim light the halfling stepped forward.

“We err… we have the mirror that Balgrom wanted, yes thats right, we have the mirror he asked for. The gnome asked us to deliver it, he couldn’t make it, you see.. he had to go and see the dentist, emergency and all that!”

“Mirror? Show me the mirror!” demended the guard.

“Show him the mirror.” the halfing said waving at the warlock, who didnt seem to be paying attention.

Looking around himself suddenly, the warlock stepped forward. He produced a flat bundle from his pack.

“Mirror.” He muttered, laying the bundle on the ground.

“Show me, open the bag!” commanded the goblin guard, who was certain he was being watched by his superiors and was bucking for a promotion.

The warlock, looked over his shoulder at the halfling, who looked at the paladin, who looked at the cleric, who looked at the tree creature, who looked back at the Warlock.

Shrugging, the warlock opened the bag and produced a book.

“Book.” stated the warlock.

“I knew it!” cried the goblin, certain of his impending promotion, “Intruders! Intruders!”

“Well, whats the next part of the plan?” the eladrin asked Aran.

“I think this is the bit where we kill the goblins.” answered the halfling, darting behind a pillar.

There was a flurry of activity, goblins had readied themselves in passageways leading into the chamber and now emerged, some with bows, some with swords. The adventurers sprang into action…

Next update: Post-battle, it's much harder to be polite in conversation when you're talking to a goblin.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Conversations With Goblins

Moments later the adventurers stood amongst the corpses of many fallen goblins. Moans from the goblin sentry who had questioned them indicated they had not done their work as thoroughly as one might. Elwanen picked up the battered goblin and held him over a pit full of rats that had been revealed during the battle.

"You're going to tell us everything. Where is Balgron? How many of you are there?" shouted the Eladrin.

"And can you draw us a map of the keep?" added Aran merrily.

"Yes! Yes!" cried the goblin, "Whatever you want! Just dont drop me in there!" The goblin offered his name as Thruk. He cooperatively led the party through a series of passageways to a door. "Balgron's in there!" He said pointing, at which point he found himself being bound, gagged and 'bagged'.

"This may be upsetting. It's really for your own good." consoled Des the Tiefling cleric.

"We dont want to make too much noise, he'll be a hinderance." agreed the paladin. A second door stood beside that which led to Balgron. Thruk had indicated that many more goblins lay beyond it. The party began discussing how to prevent being flanked by this second force. They agreed that they would need to fix the door shut, but how? It had no lock to pick, no bolt to close, all that could be done lay with the adventurers and the resources they had brought with them.

"Spike the door." suggested Sabbat Fau, coldly.

"What does that entail (If I may pry)?" asked Des.

"One takes the door to a bar, and when it is not looking…" began Theron the wizard, brushing aside his immaculate barnet.

"I think the warlock is referring to the tried and tested dugeoneering practice of driving iron spikes into the opening crease of the doors frame, thus preventing it from opening." explained the Eladrin.

"Well (and although I do not mean to countermand what appears to be (on the surface) a fine suggestion) we will have to silence the banging. You do intend to drive the spikes in manually?"

"With the repeated use of sudden blows, from a hammer I would imagine." answered Fangorn, the talking tree, who had kept very quiet until now.

"We will need a spellbinder." suggested Des.

"I can create a ghostly sound that may mask the shrill ringing of iron striking iron." offered Theron.

"Can one use that (and do excuse my ignorance in matters arcane) to actually mask sound?" asked the curious tiefling.

Sabbat Fau had been contemplating quietly: "One would need to, I believe, create a…" "...a noise cancellation wave. That may (and do please forgive my presumption) be beyond the scope of this (I believe I am correct in saying) cantrip."

"You are indeed wise in the ways of the arcane." said Theron.

"I shall begin the hammering on the one door at the exact same instant the rest of you charge through that other door." suggested Fangorn helpfully. It was agreed.

"On three… one… two… three!" The paladin gave the door a hefty kick and it flew open. Beyond was a guardroom where three goblins were playing cards. They looked up surprised. The sound of hammering could be heard outside.

"We wish to speak to Balgron (who is (if im not mistaken) the boss)." stated Des,

"He's asleep!" shouted the first goblin sentry, then quietly whispering in goblin to one of his colleagues "Oi, go and get him."

"This ones going to get him." translated Sabbat Fau.

"! He speaks goblin! Well.. what do you want?" asked the first guard.

"This really is a matter of some importance, and (if you will forgive the appearance of condesension) is for Balgron's ears only." said Des. There was a pause. The adventurers took a moment to look around them. A bare stone room, damp, dark and dingy. A finger painting on the wall depicted three goblins apparently playing cards.

"What a miserable existence." said Des glumly.

"What's that?" asked Theron who was straining to hear over the hammering.

"I said what a miserable existence these poor creatures have. A ghastly place if ever I saw one."

"Better than the faeces painting I was expecting." added Elwanen.

"Oi!" shouted the first goblin, "leave it out will you this the guardroom, this is where we…" the goblin was interrupted by loud footsteps and an angry voice. Emerging from behind a curtain on the other side of the room was a large, fat, tired looking goblin with a horned helmet above his chubby face.

"What in the name of Maglubiyet's pitch-fork is all that banging?" shouted the fat, angry goblin.

"We seek an audience with… (and do forgive me if I mispronounce the name)... Ka-la-rel." Des read out the name carefully from a secret document the party had captured from Irontooth, "Yes, with Kalarel."

"Well you can't have one, you can just bugger off back to whatever wattle-and-daub-thatched-roof-pig-on-a-spit piss-hole you came from!" The adventurers looked at each other blankly.

"Maybe he's not of sufficient status to command an audience with the aforementioned gentleman." suggested Des to his companions.

"Listen here, the problem is we are guards, see? And we guard, g-ar-duh!" explained Balgron, spelling out his job title phonetically, "and we wouldnt be very good guards if just let every tom, dick or harriet who came breezing in here asking for audiences with this one or that one just walk right on through, with a 'and do have a nice day now dont you, dont go slipping on any miserable stairs while you walk through our miserable home now will you', now would we?"

The adventurers agreed that he had a point. "Besides," continued Balgron, "you wouldnt get past the zombies anyway!" He laughed. The other goblins in the room laughed in chorus, although they were clearly quite nervous, "Now piss orf and take your banging with you!"

"Well then my fine friends, let us away, we obviously have no further…" began Des, calmly.

"CHAAARGE!" yelled Elwanen… The door swung shut behind them.

Next update: The aftermath! A short post with some work for idle (branch-like) thumbs.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Gore Tsunami

"After having negotiated extensively, the heroes decided that negotiations should break down," commented Des, as the party looted the now blood-stained goblin guardrooms. The finger painting on the wall now depicted three goblins playing cards under a tsunami wave of fresh gore.

"Look!" exclaimed the halfling ranger, "Magic items!". Aran had found an assortment of implements and some bags of coins. The adventurers decided who should get what and left the room.

Outside in the passageway Fangorn was taking a rest from his labours. "I've nearly finished, just one last spike.."

"Nevermind, Fangorn," interrupted Elwanen, "We'll be needing to use that door now."

Fangorn calmly began removing the spikes. Heaving and ho-ing he prised each one out.

"I'll take those for later." said Theron reaching for the bundle.

"Now are we absolutely certain we wish to proceed at this point?" asked Des, "(Far be it for me to quench the fires of bloodlust that I sense smouldering amongst you all at this moment)."

"I say we kick down the next door, slaughter all the remaining goblins, and then rest." suggested Elwanen.

"Agreed." agreed Sabbat Fau. The rest of the party came to an agreement. "On three… one… two… three!"

Next update: The Torturer's Chamber! Who's going to end up in the Iron Maiden?

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

The Torturer's Chamber, by crater

Beyond the door the goblins, this time, were ready. The adventurers charged into a large stone room. A rack, an iron maiden, manacles on the walls and wailing from jail cells left them in no doubt that this was some kind of torture chamber. Goblin snipers crept in the shadows around the walls, a goblin spearman braced himself for impact, and infront of a roaring firepit stood a leather clad hobgoblin torturer, swinging 2 white hot branding irons.

The paladin was in first, teleporting past the spearmen directly next to the hobgoblin. He swung his sword overhead and rained down a series of blows which would have felled another opponent but the torturers armour appeared to absorb most of the damage. The hobgoblin responded with a snarl, driving his burning brands into the eladrin who recoiled for an instant, his flesh still smouldering.

Next in was the Warlock. Walking slowly across the room, past the spearmen who were distracted by the teleporting eladrin paladin, he stood glumly in a corner waiting for the right moment to strike.

Aran appeared next, deftly swinging two swords at a goblin who had been hiding near the doorway. The goblin collapsed onto one knee screaming in pain. Des stepped into the room, "You know I really think we should have formed a slightly better plan." he commented before, resignedly, casting some healing to his companions.

Theron finished off the goblin at the doorway with a fine display of personalised magic missiles and stepped into the room, calmly studying the carnage that was in progress. The paladin, who was being peppered with arrows by hidden snipers, unleashed a mighty swing of his blade, accompanied by a roar of thunder, that suddenly sent both spearmen and torturer flying into the firepit. Screaming in pain the dived back out as quickly as they could.

As they emerged the warlock seized his chance and created a huge hand of dark smoke which, emerging from the firepit, grabbed hold of the hobgoblin and dragged him back in again, but once more the torturer clawed his way out of the pit. Theron fired off custom magic missiles from the hip as if twin wielding hand crossbows, felling a spearmen, Aran found himself grappling with the other perilously close to the open iron maiden. Its yawning embrace bekoning as they stumbled ever closer.

The warlock wandered across the room nonchalently, taking blows from goblins as he passed by. He reeled from each blow but showed no emotion nor outward sign of pain. Finally he stood before the goblin snipers. With a curse and blast of eldritch energy he felled them. Elwanen succeeded in felling the torturer under a hail of powerful swordblows,just as Aran finally got the upperhand in the grapple and sent his opponent flying onto the spikes of the metal coffin, and, with a slam, the fight was over.

Next update: A Villainous Interlude!

 

[Khynal]

Many thanks to Khynal for writing that! It originally came out of me asking him how Theron sees magic working - whether it's by force of will, by channeling the energy flow of magic in the world, by Weaving Magick through his hands, or what.

Ask a perfectly reasonable question, get ...