Draga, of the mist |
We be Lick toads! We make raid!
Put the longshanks to the blade!
Burn them up from feet to head,
Make them hurt, then make them dead!Cut the parents into ham,
Smush the babies into jam,
All the rest in pot get stewed,
We be Lick toads - you be food!
You are goblins of the Licktoad tribe, who live deep in Brinestump Marsh, south of the hated man-town called Sandpoint. Once, other goblins tried to burn Sandpoint down, and they would have been legends if they had succeeded. But they didn’t bring enough fire, and got themselves killed as a result.
Yesterday, your tribe discovered that one of your own had been using forbidden arts and was engaged in one of the greatest of taboos—writing things down. In fact, rumor holds that what he was writing was a history of your tribe! There’s no swifter way to bring about bad luck than stealing words out of your mind by writing them down, and so your tribe had no choice. You branded the goblin’s face with letters to punish him, which is why everyone calls him Scribbleface now, and then you ran him out of town, took all of his stuff, and burned down his hut.That’s where things got interesting, because before you all burned down his hut, Chief Gutwad found a weird box within the building. Inside was a map and a lot of fireworks—fireworks that immediately came to use in burning the hut down. Then, this morning, Gutwad announced that tonight there would be a feast in order to drive out any lingering bad luck from Scribbleface’s poor decisions. But perhaps even more exciting, all of you have been secretly invited to meet at Chief Gutwad’s Moot House. Why would the chief want to speak to you? It can only mean that he’s got an important mission for you all... one that the other goblins of the tribe couldn’t pull off. This could be your chance to go down in Licktoad history!
Poog The Magnificent |
"This is Poog's moment of glory, Dogfinder," says Poog, patting his toad perhaps a bit too roughly. "Zarongel drools on us and gives us the fatty portions, this time, maybe, maybe," he continues, idly rolling the toad like a ball and then catching it again before it can scrabble away.
He continues through the collection of huts, growling at little goblins who cross him and cowering at larger ones who come near, singing quietly.
Poog say Zarongel is the best,
Zarongel say Poog is the best!
Both are right!
[repeat]
Eben's Circus |
Reta swaggers through the village, aimlessly slashing her dogslicer at nothing in particular. She gargles out a wicked giggle at every weakling that scampers in fear from her mighty blade. Then she spies the skulking Poog … one of the few of the village she can stomach, if only because of his bravado.
She hustles over just in time to hear his song, and she laughs before adding her own verse while pounding on her own chest.
”But Reta say RETA is best of all!
‘Cause Poog has empty head so small!
RETA’S RIGHT!”
Thrilled with her own cleverness, she slaps the smaller goblin on the back before rolling on the floor in laughter. When the manic laughing fit subsides, she rolls to a seating position, pulling a caterpillar from a pouch and popping it into her mouth.
”Chief Gutwad ask you to his Moot House after the feast?” she asks, pride filling her voice at her own invitation.
Poog The Magnificent |
Poog turns around to growl, then remembers that Reta is one of the goblins who can best him--but also needs him. "Yes, Reta Bighead, Poog get invitation," he says, in a sort of surly tone. "Probably your invitation was mistake. Zarongel can correct with fire," he continues, waggling a hand.
Eben's Circus |
"HA!" Reta laughs, nearly knocking Poog over with a mighty back-slap. "Zarongel not help you burn Reta's anything. Zarongel like Reta too much. Gutwad like Reta too much." She gives an intimidating smile to the weaklings around her, "Everyone like Reta too much for that."
Her red-eyed look becomes curious as she continues looking at those round herself and Poog. "Talking of everyone ... is only Poog and Reta invited? Gutwad must be running out of friends."
Where is everyone?
Eben's Circus |
"Small and runt-like? No way. 'Sides, Reta's big, beautiful head not fit in that puny little skull ... hat ... thing."
Eben's Circus |
BAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! That was awesome.
Reta falls to the ground, clutching her sides as she squeals with laughter at Poog's most excellent joke.
Draga, of the mist |
~~ Meeting at the Moot House ~~
The high-pitched, nasal voice of Chief Advisor Slorb, an overdressed, pompous goblin, breaks the joviality. "You now summoned to beeg chief." Tilting his head back to better look down his nose at you all, he turns to lead you into the Moot House – a veritable museum of Licktoad heroics — crammed with trophies such as stolen weapons, shiny bits of treasure, and the brine-pickled bodies of dozens of brutally slaughtered small furry animals (mostly dogs).
As all Licktoad goblins know, by tradition, Chief Gutwad does not speak directly to his subjects. Instead, he employs an advisor through whom he whispers instructions, for the words that come out of his mouth are so mighty that they might frighten away all the words in the heads of lesser goblins. Only his duly appointed advisor, Slorb, can handle the might of the chief ’s words without fainting from fear. His Mighty Girthness Chief Rendwattle Gutwad sits upon the great Teeter Chair, which is 6 feet high and allows him to more properly look down on his subjects. In fact, his corpulence belies any reasonable manner of actually acending the tall throne unaided.
Slorb gestures for you all to sit on the dirt floor before the Chief (a great honor!) As Slorb takes up position to recieve the Chief's mighty words, arrogance turns to shock as Chief Gutwad speaks to you directly in a deep, booming voice.
“You all be heroes. Each of you. You are best Licktoads but for me. And maybe but for Slorb. That you aren’t fleeing in terror from mighty sound of my voice is all the proof you should need. Yet soon, all Licktoad goblins will know your might, for I have picked you for a dangerous mission.”
“You know about fireworks and map we found in Scribbleface’s hut. Fireworks were fun. But map is more fun. It shows a route to a place near the coast where Scribbleface found fireworks. And it says there are more fireworks there!”
“I want them for Licktoads. You all go get them tomorrow. Tonight we have big bonfire to burn bad luck away from you, and we play many games. Much fun. Tomorrow you fetch me fireworks. If you meet men, you make them dead. If you meet dogs, you make them dead. If you meet horses, you make them dead. If you meet Lotslegs Eat Goblin Babies Many, you maybe should run. And if you not find fireworks, you not come back or we feed you to Squealy Nord!”
Poog The Magnificent |
Poog is taken aback at the speech, but recovers quickly. We get fireworks for you, Chief Gutwad! Make anything dead that crosses our path! Fire will burn!" His sunken chest swells with pride.
Only Chuffy have Kn Local! WHERE IS CHUFFY MAKE ROLL
Eben's Circus |
Reta runs and vaults into the Chief's room, switching to a seated position in the air and crashing down on her bony behind ... where she bounces a few times across the disgusting floor before her momentum is arrested at the foot of Gutwad's mighty Teeter.
Know: Local: 1d20 ⇒ 3
She listens with as much attention as she can muster, which is to say she plucks about every twentieth word out ... which she then shouts back at Gutwad to show she is listening.
"HEROES! ... TERROR! ... MISSION! ... SCRIBBLEFACE! ... BONFIRE! ... DEAD! ... DEAD! ... DEEEEAAAAADDDD!!!"
At the finale, Reta jumps to her feet, jabbing her dogslicer into air. "MAKE ALL DEAD! FIREWORKS!"
Draga, of the mist |
Chief Gutwad raps his advisor on the head with a piece of rolled-up parchment, and makes a dismissive gesture. Slorb takes the proffered map, and presents it to you without preamble. "Chief done with yous now. You go - wait outside for great honor of carry Chief's Teeter to feast!" Shooing you out uncerimoniously, Slorb closes the door to the Moot House behind you.
Poog The Magnificent |
Poog finds some soot from a blackened log and hastily smudges what might be writing on the sides of the map, shivering. "Zarongel protect me," he murmurs.
"Poog can hold map," he says confidently. "Follow creek, avoid Vorka, get fireworks. But look, many water crossings. We work together to not die."
He takes a step forward, then stops. "Oh, but first the feast," he says a little sheepishly.
Eben's Circus |
Reta takes a brief look at the map before intense boredom—her constant companion—sets in.
”Great … map and not dying is for later. FEAST IS NOW!” She hops up and skips mightily from the room, grabbing up one corner of Gutwad’s Teeter to lug him to the festivities.
Draga, of the mist |
Goblins toil all afternoon to build the bonfire out of branches, sticks, and unburnt timbers taken from the ruins of Scribbleface’s hut. As night falls, a group of four struggling goblins carry the Teeter Chair (with Chief Gutwad sitting atop it) out to the bonfire, and the chief brandishes a foot-long wooden tube. Lighting the end of it on a torch held aloft by Slorb, he points it toward the giant mass of twigs and branches - FOOM! A bright burst of flame shoots forth from the stick, one after another, igniting the bonfire. Finally spent, the chief discards the dormant firework tube into the conflagaration.
Slorb's shrill voice pierces the cheers. "Great Chief Gutwad say Let feast begin!" Tables of tasty foods are laid out: massive spreads of snails, fish, and snakes! A barrel of the chief's own fermenting cider apples, which judging by those who partake, are quite potent. The goblins munching on the vaporous fruit become drunk very quickly. As the evening progresses, word that the PCs are going on a special quest spreads, and the other goblins of the tribe.
"Sho you thinksh you so great? Me not shee bigging deal." Calls Greeble, a soour-faced goblin who has apparently been sampling the cider apples. "Bet you no proof shyou brave! Betsh you no ride Shquealy Nord!"
Eben's Circus |
Know: Local: 1d20 ⇒ 6; that’s twice you’ve failed me, untrained skill roll!
Reta is about to take her first bite of one of the vaporous apples when Greeble opens his fat yap.
"RETA NOT SCARED OF NOTHING!” she yells back, throwing the apple at his drunken face. She stomps over to the pit, quickly vaulting over the ramshackle railing … directly onto Squealy Nord’s back.
Ride #1, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Ride #2, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Ride #3, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
Reta's screams, giggles, and yells mix with Nord's own squeals, but she clings tenaciously.
"RETA RIDE! AND RETA DANCE!
SQUEALY NORD NOT HAVE A CHANCE!!"
Ride #4, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Ride #5, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Ride #6, DC 15: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
So how long until Squealy Nord gives up? :D
Eben's Circus |
I think Squealy Nord is about to become Reta's Animal Companion and mount.
Draga, of the mist |
Niiiiiiiiiiiice.
Cheers erupt as Reta expertly rides the squiming piglet - who eventually accepts the weight of his rider and her enormous head will not be bucked easily. Greeble looks on sourly as Reta effortlessly dismounts to ecstatic praise.
Slorb's familiar whine pipes above the cheers. "See great skill of Licktoad champions! Chief pick only bestest of tribe! Great chief award great rider Reta Bigbad with precious Dragon Brew Gourd!" Brandishing the vial above his head, he allows the cheers to grow in intensity before tossing the prize to Reta.
“Dragon Brew Gourd” = Elixir of Fire Breath.
Draga, of the mist |
"More dares!" Shouts Papoweenkul, a grizzled old goblin with half his teeth. "Me dares you..." He looks desperately for a worthy challenge, finally pointing to a table on the far side of the food piles. "Me dares you eat bag of bull slugs! Eats real quick! Whose of you strong enough?!?" More cheers erupt as more goblins add their approval to the challenge.
A particularly excited goblin girl fetches a covered wicker basket containing the slug bag, along with a napkin made out of a soggy leaf.
There are five slugs in the bag, and successfully eating one requires a DC 15 Fortitude save. If you are feeling particularly brave, you can decide not to bother spitting out the slug’s mildly poisonous slime bladder (DC drops to 10)— but neglecting to take care not to eat the slime bladder could have repercussions.
Eating a slug is a full-round action (because of the squirming), and a goblin who fails a save can attempt to swallow the same slug on the following round.
Eben's Circus |
Reta is far too busy riding Nord around in victory laps to hear the offer of a new dare.
Let's let someone else have a go. :)
Poog The Magnificent |
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Poog makes a valiant effort, chasing and re-swallowing the pesky slugs, but he only manages to down four of them, ultimately. He kaffs and spits out the final bladder, his ears drooping. "Slugs cheated," he coughs.
Draga, of the mist |
Greeble cackles in sour mirth, his drunken teasings spurred by Poog's narrow defeat at the hands of the bull slugs. "Shooooow shtrong. Can't even shwallow da shlugs!" Punctuating his jeers with a big bite from another cider apple, a wide grin plastered on his grey-green face, Greeble suddenly slackens and collapses in a heap where he was standing. Nearby Licktoads howl even louder with laughter at his defeat by the potent fruit.
Any more takers for the bull slugs?
Draga, of the mist |
"Hide or get clubbed!" shouts Grieka, her eyes going wide. "We's play Hide or get clubbed! One of you's go hide!" The collective goblin eyes turn to your group of Licktoad heroes, hopeful of a brave champion who dares to accept this challenge.
If anyone wants to revisit the slugs later, let me know.
Eben's Circus |
Sliding from Squealy Nord's back—and sliding the Dragon's Brew into her pants (presumably into a pocket therein)—Reta skips over to slap Poog on the back.
"RETA NOT SCARED OF NOTHING!" she yells again as she yanks a rusty toasting fork from one of her pockets and begins to stab the disgusting bull slugs into her mouth.
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5; gag
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15; GULP!
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18; GULP!
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24; GULP!
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11; dry heave
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13; hack! cough!
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23; GULP!
Fort, DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23; GULP!
Despite the first trying to wriggle free, Reta gags, dry heaves, hacks, and coughs her way to success .. and slurps the last slug down with a gleeful BELCH!
Then she hops up on the make-shift, rickety table and begins doing He-Man poses.
"RETA BITE! AND RETA MUNCH!
RETA EAT FIVE SLUGS FOR LUNCH!"
Draga, of the mist |
Slorb steps forth as the goblins cheer Reta's second victory. "Great chief pleased with his heros! He award you a great honor! On yous quest, yous may carry mighty Gorge of Gluttons!" Presenting a very shiny blade, he lowers his voice for Reta and the other adventurers. "This only quest. You bring back good, or chief taking all yous heads for rolly-kick!"
Eben's Circus |
I say we win all the goodies we can during this phase, then divvy them out as they'l be most useful before we leave the village. Sound good?
Reta squeals (yet again) and jams Gutwads Gorge of Glutton into the fold of the halfling corset that makes up her leather armor.
Then, still gakking, she darts off to find something better to eat ... like some good cat or something.
Eben's Circus |
Reta begins beating her roasted cat-leg on the ramshackle table-top.
"MOGGY HIDE! MOGGY HIDE! MOGGY HIDE!"
She keeps the chant up until Moggy plays along ... or more food is offered her.
Mogmurch Goblin |
"ME HIDE ME HIDE", Mogmurch yells at the top of his voice, before his small mind makes the connection that less noise = less chance of being found, as he sprints off to hide.
Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27
Draga, of the mist |
Near Mogmurch: 1d10 ⇒ 9
They can't hit either DC
A full score of goblins steps within inches of our heroes' respective hiding spots, bashing empty bushes in frustration - but neither goblin is found, and when the last hunter finally returns in defeat, a horn is blow to recall the hiders - and signal their victory! Once again, Slorb presents you with a prize, on loan of course, from the chieftain’s treasury. "Ring That Lets You Climb Real Good! You get honor of carry for journey to get treasure - you bring back good or..." Slorb draws a finger across his neck, doing his best to look intimidating.
Mogmurch is presented with a Ring of Climbing
"EARBITER!" A voice calls out in a frenzy. The other goblins cheer and hoot, and a half-dozen eager goblins roll the 20-foot hollow coil of rusty wires, barrel hoops, bent swords, and thorny branches and vines out from behind the Moot House. Bits of flesh and three or four withered goblin ears litter the tangled mass.
The Rusty Earbiter is both an object of fascination and fear for the Licktoads. The half-insane tinkerer who invented the thing has long since died (carried off one night by a giant bird of some sort after his first and only test of a prototype bird-attracting hat), but his legacy lives on.
You must climb into one end of the Rusty Earbiter and then wriggle through it, coming out the other side.
There’s no time limit to get this done, but the faster the better! Climbing through the Rusty Earbiter requires a series of three DC 15 Escape Artist checks as the goblin must writhe through a series of tight squeezes. Each Escape Artist check takes 1 full round to attempt, and each one must be repeated until a successful check is made before moving on to the next one (or, in the case of the last check, successfully crawling out the far end of the tube). Be warned! The spectators get bored easily, and will not like it if you take too long!
Poog The Magnificent |
"That Poog's ring too, Mogmurch!" yells the cleric, snatching it away from Poog. He looks at it and bites it. "Bleh! You take it," he grumbles, flipping it back to Mogmurch. "It best with that Chuffy--where is Chuffy?"
Eben's Circus |
"Chuffy prolly still hiding" Reta mutters as she studiously ignores the offer of the terrible Earbiter test. "Chuffy always hiding." She takes a few seconds to tenaciously gnaw the remaining shred of mat from the roasted cat's leg.
Then she BUUUURPs loudly.
Then she pops the cat-leg bone into her mouth and eats it. "We gots dragon brew, cool dog slicer, and climby ring." She pats her pals on the heads, "That's good workings for one day."
Some Random Goblin |
"Yeah! Chuffy *real* good at hiding - that's why no-one find Chuffy, and club him!"
Giggling uproariously, a pock-marked and boil-encrusted goblin jumps down off the roof of a nearby building, and struts over to the earbiter.
Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11.
Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15.
Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19.
Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25.
After an initial false start (Chuffy's howl of pain only further inciting the crowd), the wiry goblin slides through the earbiter like a greased pig through slaughterhouse chute.
Once through, he starts capering around like a dog on fire.
"Chuffy's the best, oh yeah yeah!"
Draga, of the mist |
Damage: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
The tribe cheers uproarously as Chuffy expertly navigates the infamous Rusty Earbiter without so much as a scratch. A chorus of drunken praise washes over our heroes, falling to a hush at the raised hands of the chief himself! He nods to Slorb, who dashes into the Moot House to retreive a wrapped bundle. Slorb approaches Chuffy, unwrapping the parcel and intoning, "All see big chief's wise head for picking these - biggest strongest fastest of all Licktoads - except for great chief himself!" he quickly adds. A collective gasp runs through the camp as he presents Chuffy with one of the tribe’s most coveted items... "The Chief’s Personal Very Useful Robe That Is Useful!" As he hands over the garment (a goblin version of Robe of Useful Items), you can see that it still has four patches remaining: a ladder, a three-legged turtle, a horseshoe, and a bullhorn.
"Tomorrow, chief’s bestest goblin team go get super-special treasure!" Slorb shouts with exuberance. "Tonights, we finishes FEAST!" More cheers erupt amongst the tribe, as groups rush to fill their bellies with more catmeat and fermenting cider apples. Fights break out over near-emptied platters, and cider-soaked bodies fall sporadically in drunken ecstacy.
The great feast rages on until the wee hours, until the sun breaks the horizon to bathe Licktoad village in amber warmth. The morning has come, and the time has come for our adventurer's to set forth.
Last chance for any Gather Info checks. Untrained Kn(Local) checks are available any time.
Some Random Goblin |
Chuffy's eyes grow wide as saucers as he reverently takes possession of the Chief's robe.
"Chuffy make sure that robe taken care of good, yes?"
However, he is quickly distracted by the declaration of the feast, and sets about gorging himself, flitting from table to table and dish to dish, gobbling an assortment of Goblin delicacies.
Knowledge(Local) 'Take 10' = 15.
Poog The Magnificent |
Poog glances at his companions, then goes about eating what he can as well. Many gifts. Why? Just for fireworks? But he soon gets caught up in the reverie of the evening.
At some point in the evening, he mentions to the soberest of the Goblin Heros: "Poog realized that Slorb hardly necessary for Chief. Only to get into throne seat."
Eben's Circus |
Yah, I’ve already rolled a Know: Local for Vorka (I think), so I’ll make that check for the rest of them … though they’re all untrained and can’t beat a DC of 10.
Knowledge (whatever), for Brinestump Marsh: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4
Knowledge (whatever), for Lotslegs Eat…: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (6) + 0 = 6
Knowledge (whatever), for what lies beyond: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (12) + 0 = 12
At Chuffy’s success, Reta joins him in his celebration caper.
”RETA MAKE BIG NORD GO SQUEEEE!
POOG AND MOGGY NONE CAN FIND!
CHUFFY SQUEEZE! AND CHUFFY SLIP!
BETTER HEROS NO GOBBO FIND!”
She repeats the inspired lyrics for a few verses, each time yelling louder and louder, each time spinning faster and faster in her frantic, Chuffy-inspired, dog-on-fire caper.
Then she falls to the floor, squealing in the delight of their moment of victory. For the rest of the evening, Reta is constantly on the move. It’s not the intentional movement of someone with a purpose … more the constant flow of a frenetic leaf caught on the breeze of celebration. Everywhere she goes, she boasts about what she and her team will do once they leave … and she might even pick up a stray piece of useful information or two.
Using 4 Gather Info checks, one for each of the subjects you mentioned, Draga, all gleaned unintentionally as she boasts, brags, and generally throws her weight around at the celebration.
Diplo (Brinestump Marsh): 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (18) - 2 = 16
Diplo (Lotslegs): 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (4) - 2 = 2
Diplo (Vorka): 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
Diplo (Other things that lie beyond): 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10
Eben's Circus |
Also, how do we want to divvy up our winnings? I'd love for Reta to have the Gorge of Gluttons (the +1 horse bane dogslicer). The Dragon Brew Gourd (Elixir of Fire Breath) thematically fits our team pyro best, but then again, Moggy already has bombs for AoE fire damage. The other two ... could go to whomever thinks they're shiny. :)
Draga, of the mist |
~~ Reta's Gather Info Results ~~
~~ Chuffy's Kn(Local) Results ~~