DM Bigrin's Second Darkness (Inactive)

Game Master bigrin42

The days passed with no indication from Saul that he noticed anything amiss with his office or the records. In fact, he seems somewhat cheerful, despite the loss of Larur and having to hire a new floor manager. Together, Bruendor and Kelendra managed to muddle along in the position for nearly a week before Saul introduced them to the woman who was to take Larur's place.

Samaritha Beldusk is a young half-elf with wavy red hair and Varisian tattoos on her face and arms. Her natural friendliness and honest nature work well for the Floor Manager position, giving her a ready supply of helpful employees and stable customers. She immediately struck up a friendship with both Kelendra and Anklebiter, with whom she shares some magical talents.

Not having a place of her own in Riddleport, Saul rented her the VIP quarters next to his own rooms, for rates much less that those she was paying at the Unicorn's Horn. She admitted that she sleeps lightly, and the inn was terrible for her. She would probably have paid twice what Saul was charging her, just to be out of the place.

Due to Samaritha's influence, the Goblin's business has picked up again. Everyone add 30g to your stash

A week or so after the events at Smeed's house, Saul summoned you to his office shortly after . "Well, I'm taking your advice from the last time. There's a shipment of of exotic liquor that just pulled into port. The Foamrunner is docked at the wharves and the captain is sitting on the cargo for us. There's 4 crates and 2 casks to pick up. Sam's gonna stay here, but if you want some help loading the crates, feel free to take some of the bouncers with you. But hurry, I wouldn't put it past one of the crime bosses to try and 'acquire' the liquor for themselves."

"Bouncers would be good, and I'll take Lefrik's advice and leave the getting stabbed to those with more blood this time." Kelendra gives a shy smile to the rest of the group and pats her scar. "Let's get a move on before anyone acquires our cargo."

"Aye, word gets out quickly in this town it seems."

"Ah suppose it's better than sitting around here," Calla says. "Where's the greenskin? Ah'm sure he and the dwarf will want in on this -- it is liquor, after all."

She quickly assembles her gear, returning in her form-fitting studded leather, a longbow slung over her shoulder and whip coiled at her hip next to her morningstar. "Shall we go?"

"I join you," Anklebiter says, grinning at Calla. "Not for booze, though. Drinking only rhymes with thinking, it doesn't mix with it."

"ha. Perhaps, but the world would be duller with out it"

"Well ya see, Anklebiter, it's like this. A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

gotta love Cheers, the above is a quote from Cliff Clavin, with Anklebiter substituted for Norm.

Bruendor listens to Kelendra's monologue impassively. "You're right about one things, lass," he says after she finishes. "Drinking to excess kills. Let's get these crates of liquor and get them back here. We'll take a few of the bouncers - if we're gone, then our opposition might take this moment to come after the Goblin, so we don't want to leave it undefended."

Anklebiter gives Kelendra an odd look. "I thought alcohol was like poison," he says. "Poison just kills whatever. Drunk Goblins only think they're smarter, but they're really dumb. When the old chief was drunk, I could actually get him to..."

The Goblin stops talking and shakes his head. "Yes, yes, Bruendor is right. Let's get to work."

Lefrik chuckled at Kelendra's comment, "Well, I found it funny." He gets ready to get to work as suggested.

A little time later...

After as Saul has informed the team about the licquor job, Anklebiter starts acting a little shifty; he looks left and right to make sure no one is close enough to spy on the crew, then beckons everyone close.

"I unriddled the papers!" the Goblin announces in a squeaky whisper. "Boss Saul is cooking the books something awful. The Golden Goblin is in bad debt, gonna tip over soonest if nothing's done. The numbers make no sense, not with the way boss Saul is behaving hisself and the way this place looks."

Anklebiter hesitates, then forges ahead: "Because you see, he's still getting regular money from somewhere. Didn't say in the papers where. It's not being used to save the casino at all, I think. And... he was last paid four days ago, before Larur... disappeared. What if the big Dwarf found something out and Saul did something about it?"

Anklebiter's ears droop as he adds another suspicion: "What if Larur is the merchandise Saul was paid for? He kept saying the soul-buying was nonsense, but still... And I'd like to say I'm charming, but he was too eager to hire me. All of us, really, when we'd just helped smash up the Golden Goblin. What if he's being paid for souls and warm bodies by something awful?"

"Wait..." Lefrik looks confused, "Are you saying he is getting wealth, but the wealth isn't going to the Golden Goblin? If he isn't...then why keep it at all? What purpose could it serve?"

"It's a perfect cover," Calla says coldly. "After all, who's going to question why an employee disappears when you're in a well-known feud? Perhaps we should find out if the Goblin has had any other workers simply disappear. Maybe even see if everyone who left after the tournament is still somewhere in Riddleport."

Part of me wants to keep track of which adjectives I use most for Calla's speech. The girl just doesn't seem to be able to playing just say something. I'm going to guess coldly wins...

"But why would Saul just run the Golden Goblin into the ground? Even if he was getting paid for souls, he would still want to keep the place afloat just to keep bringing in fresh bodies."

"And why the good mood when his friend just died and his business is failing? None of this makes any sense?"

"What if it's not Saul at all, what if Larur recognized that his old friend had been replaced by something else and paid with his life for that knowledge. Didn't Bojask say Larur's home had blood everywhere, it seems he was killed at his house, then his cloak used to lead us to Smeed, another person that knew Saul."

"Perhaps whatever he ...or it, plans no longer requires fresh bodies or souls? Maybe he has enough, or almost enough, for something that is going to happen soon?" the big barbarian tries to think it through. It isn't his strong point, but trying to think of a solution is better than just imagining the worst.

"Wait..." Lefrik looks confused, "Are you saying he is getting wealth, but the wealth isn't going to the Golden Goblin? If he isn't...then why keep it at all? What purpose could it serve?"

"You know dragons?" Anklebiter says, shrugging. "They don't spend money, but they keep hoarding it. Some people maybe like that?"

"But why would Saul just run the Golden Goblin into the ground? Even if he was getting paid for souls, he would still want to keep the place afloat just to keep bringing in fresh bodies."

"And why the good mood when his friend just died and his business is failing? None of this makes any sense?"

"Perhaps whatever he ...or it, plans no longer requires fresh bodies or souls? Maybe he has enough, or almost enough, for something that is going to happen soon?"

"What if it's not Saul at all, what if Larur recognized that his old friend had been replaced by something else and paid with his life for that knowledge. Didn't Bojask say Larur's home had blood everywhere, it seems he was killed at his house, then his cloak used to lead us to Smeed, another person that knew Saul."

"Maybe Saul's not as good a friend as the big Dwarf deserved," Anklebiter says, throwing up his hands. "Maybe he wants to... Retire? is that the word? He wants to retire. One-armed man in this city, of course he'd like to settle down in a country-house somewhere with lots of nice stuff. Old Goblins always dreaming of a little cave with lots of plunder nobody steals from them. Or maybe, yes, maybe it's something that's acting like Saul. But there's more."

"A few days ago, it was Larur. Now, we're being sent out. What if we're the merchandise now?"

Lefrik smiles at that, "If we are... we will kill whoever comes to CLAIM us. I know little of skullduggery, but I know much of Skull cracking."

"I couldn't agree more, blondie," Calla says with a cold smile to Lefrik.

Feel free to RP this out as much as you want, just give me a heads up when you are ready to move to the liquor shipment.

Bruendor has remained silent as Anklebiter has related this information. "Assuming you've translated the document accurately, greenskin, all we know is that our employer isn't quite as interested in reformation as he's led us to believe. There's something bigger going on, but if we don't do his job, we'll lose the access to the Goblin - and Saul. For now, we get the liquor and bring it back - and we keep our eyes peeled for hints on what Saul's real game is."

"Aye. Fair enough."

Anklebiter looks Bruendor straight in the eye and speaks, in unaccented Common: "I did not botch this translation. Saul and his mystery backer used a cypher based on the Old Azlant tongue; I worked on it for days. You may not respect Goblins, Dwarf, and fair game to you. But in this matter, you will kindly respect my expertise. My craft."

Yeah, that was me. Forgot to check the correct alias. *le sigh*

Anklebiter looks Bruendor straight in the eye and speaks, in unaccented Common: "I did not botch this translation. Saul and his mystery backer used a cypher based on the Old Azlant tongue; I worked on it for days. You may not respect Goblins, Dwarf, and fair game to you. But in this matter, you will kindly respect my expertise. My craft."

Lefrik raises a brow at Anklebiter's rare display of pride, then finds himself nodding, "You cannot force respect Anklebiter, but for what it is worth.. you have earned mine. You have been willing to bleed with us, you have put your wits and will to our cause and done so well. I am not sure I have said this..." He pounds a fist over his heart in a gesture of respect, "But I, Lefrik Olegson, thank you and would call you friend. Though..." He admits with amusement, "it is not a friendship my family would approve of. The offer is there."

"As if family is worth worrying about," Calla says, her voice dripping with scorn and emotion as she says the word family. "Now, if we're done fighting among ourselves, let's go find out if we're being sent into a death trap.

Anklebiter cocks his head at Lefrik, and smiles without showing teeth; an odd expression on a Goblin, to be sure.

"I thank you, Lefrik Olegson. My family would certainly not approve, but I am honoured to call you 'friend' as well. You are honest and brave -- two virtues few other Goblins could appreciate, but I see their worth and I salute you."

The Goblin pounds his chest over his heart in imitation of Lefrik's gesture, and nods to him.

Next, he turns to Calla. "Yes, yes, let's go. How do we go about it? All in the open, or some stalking after to ambush ambushers?"

The discussion continued as you walked towards the docks, bouncers and cart in tow. The discussion was obviously cautious and muted, given that there were others around. It stalled, however, when you got to the docks and saw the Foamrunner being offloaded.

A pair of thugs were acting as stevedores, carrying heavy chests and casks to a handcart on the dock near the mooring platform. The process was being overseen by a burly man decked out in the armor of a Korvosan guard. He was handing the captain a huge purse when he caught sight of you. A sneer that seemed permanently attached to his face hitched itself higher as he saw you coming. The bouncers with you started murmuring, and one said aloud "It's Braddikar Faje!"

The armored man smiled. "Well, well. If it ain't Saul's little puppies, come to play fetch for their master. Run along little doggies. Tell Saul that Zincher says thanks for the liquor. He'll put it to good use."

Knowledge (local) untrained: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Any clues on who Braddikar Faje is?

Braddikar is a failed Korvosan Guard who was forced to flee that city when the truth of a protection racket he was running came to light. He still owns his armor and weapons issued him from the Guard, and keeps them out of a sense of irony as much as because he can’t really afford better replacements. He is known to work for Clegg Zincher

"I think you'll find these puppies have some bite, Faje. Run away now with your tail tucked -- like you did from Korvosa -- and we'll let you go. Otherwise we'll send a bottle to your boss so he can drink away his sorrow at not having you around anymore."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Lefrik eyes the thugs trying to take THEIR liquor, and for the moment ignores Braddikar "I once broke a man's skull for breaking a mug. Imagine what I will do to you if you continue to unload what is not yours?" He takes out his axe. "Put the Golden Goblin's property before us, and do it GENTLY...or I will not be gentle with you."

intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

"All I hear are the mewling of pups who don't know how to play with the big dogs. Break a skull? You don't look as if you could break a twig without 3 others to help you. Maybe you can go find your big brothers to come help you out? Might makes right, piddlings, and it's my right to take this shipment. Now begone, before I have to whip some sense into you!"

Lefrik's lips curl into a snarl as his older brothers are mentioned, He retains enough sense to tell the others, "Make sure the others don't run off with the goods while I teach this big mouthed fool a lesson."

And with that, he moves to attack Braddikar!

And as the DM rolls inits and such, we pause there for station identification. Regardless, Lefrik is starting a fight.
Let's hope he can finish it :)

Calla turns to her companions. "Does he want to do this himself?"

"No, we help each other," Anklebiter insists. "Back him up while I stop the goons from taking the goods."

Cackling in his native language, the little Goblin pitches a gobbet of fat at the two thugs unloading the licquor. A puddle of greasy ooze spreads beneath their feet at once.

"My little pretties slip and fall," he chants.
"They'll be in the cookpot soon, be they ever so tall!"

Anklebiter casts Grease at the two thugs to slow them down.

"The green skin is right, we help each other!"

Kelendra casts Bless on the group.

Kelendra and Anklebiters actions have been posted and will go on their tick.

The man closest to Anklebiter went down in a blob of grease. The crate he was carrying hit the ground with an audible crass of splintered wood and glass.

Here's the map

I'm assuming helmet man at B -2 is Braddikar.. if I'm somehow wrong on that, let me know. It might change thing ;)
Lefrik moves with surprising speed yeah fast movement and closes with the man who taunted him. His greataxe sings out and...

to hit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
dmg if it hits: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Sorry for the delay in posting - life's been busy over the last few days.

As Anklebiter addresses him, Bruendor rises to his full height - hardly impressive, but he still is a good foot or so taller than the goblin - and stares down at the little wizard. "Very well, greenskin, you know some magic, and you've a head for letters. That's something most of your ilk wouldn't know. But we have a saying back in Janderhoff. Roughly translated into Common, it's this: 'You can't bleach the green out of a goblin.' One of these days, you're going to have enough of whatever game you're playing, and try to set Riddleport on fire, or steal a baby and eat it, or some other grotesque game. And, when you do, I'll be there."

* * *

Bruendor is surprised by the speed Lefrik jumps from threats of violence to the act itself, and doubly surprised by the speed Lefrik shows in charging Braddikar. "Damned fool," he mutters, loosing his sap. "One of these days, he's going to kill the wrong person, and we'll have to deal with that fallout." Nothing left to do but to work with Lefrik's plan, and so Bruendor bounds towards the two thugs on the dock.

provided that no enemies are standing next to her, Kelendra will use her move action for drawing a weapon in addition to using the standard action to cast Bless

Calla pulls her longbow off her back and notches an arrow, quickly letting it fly toward one of the thugs not in close quarters with one of her companions.

"Shall we grant them mercy and let them crawl away when we're done with them?" she asks, the tone of her voice not making clear if she's sincere or if the question is merely meant to further intimidate her foes.

Bow attack (+1 if within 30 feet): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Damage (+1 if within 30 feet): 1d8 ⇒ 3

Lefrik leaped for Braddikar, and his flying axe took the guardsman by surprise. The axe nicked the guardsman in the elbow, just above his shield. Braddikar growled at the pain, then said "You'll pay for that, pup!" He retaliated with a lightning fast blow of his own, grimly aiming for Lefrik's neck. The barbarian managed to dodge most of the blow, taking it on the shoulder instead of in the throat.

Lefrik takes 4 damage

Calla fires her bow to no effect, even with the blessings granted by Kelendra's divine call.

Anklebiter screams with rage when he sees Braddikar cut into Lefrik.

"You'll pay for that, scum-eater!" the Goblin howls, hopping up and down with anger. "Stilla acida!"

Anklebiter makes a throwing motion, and a small glob of acid goes whizzing in the fallen guard's direction.

One Acid splash. Ranged touch attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12. Damage for a hit: 1d3 ⇒ 2.

He answers Calla, "Take one as prisoner as you wish, see what we can learn from these thieves. This one? Bah. I'd just as soon we kill him but if he surrenders I MIGHT grant it."

"You'll pay for that, pup!"

and blood is drawn.

Lefrik grins widely in response even as the goblin wizard lets fly with a spell.

"Ha! The only paying I will do is the coin for a drink as I toast not you, but your defeat, you snake in false skin!"Lefrik slashes out again with his great axe.

to hit, counting the bless: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
If that hits
dmg: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Round 2

Bruendor continues dashing forward, stopping at the edge of the grease near the thug who fell. "Stay down and throw your weapon aside, and you'll live another day! Resist, and..." Bruendor's strike is clumsy, perhaps due to being on the periphery of the slippery sludge.

The goblin's acid bomb splattered on the ex-guardsman's shield, followed shortly by Lefrik's axe. His sword swiftly struck once more, opening a gash on Lefrik's forearm.

Lefric takes 5 damage.

Bruendor's strike only glanced off the thug's head, but the grease kept the man on the ground. The other thug appeared to be frozen in fear, not moving at all.

Round 2
AC 15, touch 12, flat-footed 13
Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6
CMD 13
HP 9/9
Divine retribution 1/6; Judgments 0/1

Seeing Lefrik apparently struggling with his foe, Calla gestures toward his opponent, smiling as a rope on the ship suddenly snaps and whips toward the man's face.

"Can't say Ah didn't warn you; may you find mercy in Calistria's eyes."

1d6 ⇒ 5 Ref save DC 13 for half

Seeing the second gash draw blood from Lefrik, Kelendra expects she'll soon need to provide healing for the big man. Activating her Coat of Many Stars, she moves into a position to reach him next round.

"Healing on the way Lefrik, just hold on a bit longer!"

move to (0,-F), activate Coat of Many Stars

Anklebiter curses in Goblin, moves a little closer to his target and casts again.

"You're dead, scum-eater! Dead unless you surrender!"

Another Acid Splash! Ranged touch attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23. Damage if successful: 1d3 ⇒ 3. Anklebiter moves to F0.

Lefrik is bloody but as the Skalds say, unbowed.

six hit points as of this post

Lefrik's nostril's flare and his body shakes for a moment, and he lets out a berserker howl of pure rage!

Free action, Rage: +4 to STR, +4 to Con Now has 2 extra hitpoints (total of 8) -2 to AC (12 total I think)

And then he brings his axe down attempting to cut the man in twain.

To hit, bonus for rage str boost and bless counted in: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
If that hits
again with str bonus counted: 1d12 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18