|
Ripnugget shrieks in laughter when Tylur, Skarn, and Aurora all fail to hit their targets. "Boar have better aim with tusks than longshanks do with swords!" He leans forward to swipe Skarn across the ankles.
The warchanter drops his bow and pulls out a crude, almost-broken weapon from a dirty rucksack, swinging at Aurora.
-- Bold is up --
René
Aurora
Ripnugget (-24, mounted), Gecko (-5), Warchanter
Cordwin (-21, stable)
Skarn (-11), Tylur (-14)
Trying to dodge the nasty weapon and grinning when it slices along her arm, pushing her jab wide. "Is that really all you have for me?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Skarn continues his assault on Ripnugget.
x4
Crit confirm...
x4
And his judgment heals him for 1hp
René dashes over to Aurora, a little concerned with the large gash she had just suffered but mostly looking for the wand that would render the wound moot. "Heh, that ain't the poke-y thing I meant. You have that there smaller wooden-y fella? Without the sharp metal part?"
Taking a short step back and reaching back and tugging the wand, grinning when she feels two sticks next to each other.
|
|
Skarn's had enough of Warchief Ripnugget and his incessant babbling. He swings his pick with enough force that it rips off the warchief's chicken nugget-sized head, sending it tumbling into the Warchanter, crown and all. His ears continue to twitch for a few seconds, and a gratuitous amount of blood sprays from the severed torso.
The Warchanter laughs nervously, looking past Tylur's shoulder towards the exit.
-- Bold is up --
René
Aurora
Warchanter
Cordwin (-21, stable)
Skarn (-11), Tylur (-14)
Tylur swings his spiked chain and launches it toward the warchanter.
Skarn moves to Cordwin, and lays a hand on him, ”Come lad, ye have nae drank yer last pint. Time to git up.”
And his judgment heals him for 1hp
Handing over the wand, "Not a lot left on it."
Seeing the little goblin rush past her and trying to get at least one good hit it.
Holding out the wand and hoping it works and groaning when all she gets is a small glow.
René watches the warchanter run away. There wasn't really much he could do to stop him. He just hoped either someone else did or that he didn't plan on rallying the goblins outside to the fight. They would all need to be up and about if that were to happen, so he turns to where Aurora seems to be struggling with the wand.
"Ya have the gift of the whatsits, don't ya?" He wiggles his fingers is a poor imitation of a magical incantation. "Don't it just work-like? No need of the whosits us other folk need for them there magicky sticks ta work."
Cordwin blinks his eyes. Am I alive or are you dead? He asks Skarn.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
”Alas my friend, we are both still alive, our labors are not yet through. Now get your lazy arse up, ye been loafing too long.” Skarn reaches out a fist to help Cordwin to his feet.
Adrenaline still makes her raise the wand and grumble when it does not work but something seems off. There is blood on her spear and she quickly drops it. Staring at the blood on the tip of her spear and not really paying any attention to René and his babbling.
Sucking in a deep breath and looking away from the spear but there is signs of violence and death everywhere. Sluggishly walking over to Cordwin and sounding a little hollow, "Any of you that are hurt come here."
Tightening her fingers into fists and waiting for the others to come over before a bright glow pulses out from her chest.
Skarn feels the healing power from Aurora wash over him, ”Thank ye lass.”
”Alas my friend, we are both still alive, our labors are not yet through. Now get your lazy arse up, ye been loafing too long.”
I was drinking ale with Torag himself. He is a fine fellow. You'd like him. Cordwin says as he pulls himself up with the help of Skarn's offered hand. He is still a little confused if he is alive or dead. He then feels the additional healing of Aurora's channel and his mind clears especially when he sees Ripnugget's corpse. I see the body of good king Ripnugget, last of his name! Was it a tough fight?
"We were blessed with Skarn's pick. It found a way to puncture the king's armour thankfully." He binds up some of his wounds as he speaks his eyes on the door.
|
|
On Warchief Ripnugget's corpse, you find two purple potions and two blue potions.
These are both potions of barkskin +2.
These are two potions of cure moderate wounds
You also find a masterwork breastplate, a +1 shortsword, and Ripnugget's dented crown, sure to be of some value. The breastplate and shortsword are small-sized, unfortunately. There's also a key ring on his hip.
"Sounded like that Tsuto fella ain't 'round here. Question is, did we wanna go back ta th'other path we was at before getting ta this here tower? Or did was wanna take a gander 'round-like? Person'ly, I think we should see if ol' Ripnugget left any signs of where he wen' and stashed that there army o' his."
As he talks, René idly takes a look at the potions.
Holding up the blue one, he exclaims, "Oh hey, I done seen one of these here things before. It does some kinda healin' on ya. Not the cheap kind neither. Not sure why the king didn't take a sip'r two afore he was cut down."
Cordwin, emboldened by his near-death experience says, I don't mind giving it a sip!
Holding out a hand and opening her mouth to stop Cordwin and letting the words die while her hand falls. Sighing and moving closer to him, "You already almost died once." Staring at him critically all the while hoping he does not collapse.
|
|
The room directly north of Ripnugget's throne room can only be his "grand" bedchamber. Several rugs made from dog or horse hide lie strewn over the dirt floor of this room. Against the north wall stands an impressive collection of horseshoes, each nailed to the wall. To the east sits a ragged padded chair next to a rickety desk that may have once been an expensive antique. In the northwest corner sits a canopied bed covered with silk sheets and sporting an elaborately carved headboard that features nymphs and satyrs cavorting in a forest. The bed's sheets are stained with dirt, while the headboard is bashed and battered.
Cordwin is fascinated to see how a goblin king lives. He notices a cushion on a chair that does not seem right and as he investigates, he pulls out a key. Hey! I wonder what this is too?
+2 vs unusual stonework, +1 vs giants
Skarn pulls out the holy symbol of Lamashtu from the bed, ”have I mentioned how much I dislike these guys?”
Keeping near the back of the group and remaining silent. Occasionally staring down at the gloves on her hands. Little droplets of blood are there. I was not supposed to be a warrior.. But it seems like I am going down that road.. Lost in thought and not really paying any attention to her surroundings.
René shakes his head at the state of the room. He had heard of people trashing places, but this was excessive. "Remind me never ta invite these fellas fer a house party or nuthin'." He scratches his chin as he looks around. "Don't see no locked chest, so the key must be fer somethin' elsewhere. Hopefully somethin' good."
|
|
After finding the holy symbol and key, you head back out of the bedchamber to explore the next two rooms flanking the throne room. The first contains a small armory of crudely made weapons (mostly dogslicers and shortbows) and several small goblin-sized suits of studded leather armor and dented shields. To the south stand a pair of workbenches.
In all, there are 23 dogslicers, 11 shortbows, 80 arrows, 11 suits of studded leather, six light wooden shields, and two coiled whips. On the north wall hangs a single masterwork dogslicer. With the exception of this lone dogslicer, the gear stored here looks to be of poor quality, bespeaking typical goblin crafting expertise.
The next room's door is locked , but the set of keys you found on Ripnugget unlocks it. This foul-smelling butchery is a horrifying affront to all the senses. Haunches of poorly smoked meat hang from hooks along the ceiling or lie heaped in and atop crates. In some cases, the meat seems to be dog or horse, but in many other cases, the meat has all-too-recognizable features, like feet, hands, or grimacing faces. No single body is intact enough to be easily recognizable.
”Oy, now that is disgusting! I cannot say it is surprising, but it is disgusting.”
Aye! Foul creatures indeed! If we can't recognize the corpses, then neither can their kin. At any rate, they, what's left of them, should be given a proper burial. Cordwin says, then adds, Would it be our luck if one of these corpses belong to Tsuto?
”Luck weren’t never my thing.”
"Now, I dunno much about fight-y things, but I reckon if we ain't gonna take all these here weapons with us, we should at least dump it inta the sea. Beats havin' a gobbly army usin' it ta kill us, right?"
René quickly goes pale upon seeing the distinctly humanoid features hung to to most likely be eaten. He then quickly goes green, backing out of the room to quickly try to get his gag reflex under control. When he's at least in control enough that he feels confident he's not going to puke, he begins murmuring. "Now that ain't right. This place...we gotta burn it all down. Clense it in fire. Ain't no amounta soap gonna make it clean again."
"No Tsuto needs to brought back to stand for his crimes of patricide. As to burning this place down I am in agreement with that René."
Tylur grabs a short bow and fills a quiver with a dozen arrows.
Nodding at René, "That sounds like a good idea."
Wrinkling her nose at the smell and then that devil door opens. Pulling her hand up to her lips and then turning away quickly and vomiting as far down the hall as she can make it.
|
|
The next door opens to a short hallway and another door, which leads to an open set of stairs leading to a trapdoor in the ceiling. Listening, you hear at least two goblins chattering above you, somehow too enamored in whatever it is they're doing to have heard the fierce battle that just took place below them.
Further ahead is the room of snoring goblins, and then, a set of stairs leading down, further into the Thistletop complex.
Tylur points to the stairs leading down and nods his head not wanting to make anymore noise than is necessary.
Skarn points towards the sleepers, and makes a quizzical look, as he runs his finger across his throat.
He then smiles, waves his hands back and forth, and pantomimes whacking them on the head.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
René takes a few moments dumping the weapons and armor they didn't want to keep in to the ocean before moving to join the group.
He then joins the group in sneaking forward. He takes a moment to cock his head and try to figure out what the goblins are debating so hotly.
When Skarn starts pantomiming, he joins in, first making bunny ears and then contorting his fingers in to more elaborate shapes. If there were a strong light source, the group would undoubtedly be impressed by his skilled shadow-puppetry. Though in the absence of such light, it's rather hard to tell what he's doing until the end, where he pretty clearly becomes some kind of giant monster silently stomping through some downtown city and swatting away invisible flying enemies.
Tylur firmly shakes his head as a look of disappointment falls upon his face at Skarn's first suggestion to kill the goblins. He is about to say something to Skarn when René joins in and starts to make some unrecognizable motions with his hands. Not expecting anything less from this odd man Tylur continues towards the stairs.
Cordwin, still reeling from his near-death experience watches as the others speak in some exotic sign language he does not know and follows as they move to the stairs.
Frowning and dragging her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Rolling her eyes at the silent conversation and following Tylur.
|
|
René hears the following when he listens through the trapdoor mentioned earlier:
"I draw boar card, I win!"
"No, boar card lose to longshank, stupid. Not remember rules? You give goblins bad name."
"No, you stupid! Longshank weaker than boar, boar win!"
... Followed by the shriek of a goblin, the falling of furniture on the rickety floor, and finally, a murderous cackle.
___
Down the stairs, Thistletop takes on a dramatically different appearance. The rooms have been carved out from solid stone with hooded lanterns lining the halls. The ceilings are roughly 8 feet high. A single lantern hangs from a hook on the wall next to where the stairs enter the room from the north. Several rickety doors open into this room, and a few discarded dog pelt rugs lie forgotten in the northeast corner.
The first door to the east leads to a storage room. Crates, barrels, and mounds of miscellaneous refuse lie heaped against the walls here. To the north, the sound of crashing surf echoes...
Moving north, the floor of this cavern seems strangely polished and smooth. To your right, a thick curtain of vines and nettles hangs down over a wide, opening overlooking the Varisian Gulf.
Cordwin points to the glowing red eyes. Looks like we are not alone!
+2 vs unusual stonework, +1 vs giants
”Indeed, although I know not what creature it is.”