"Or we could just shout at it a lot, we could always do that," says Viro sarcastically as he tries to coax the horse out. "Oh you poor bastard... that rope bridge."
Uirdir shrugs as he figures he can give a hand. He places the bunny on top of his head, so the rabbit is splayed in a relaxing position as he cooes and chitters at the horse, trying to calm it.
He hears Viroleth make a sarcastic remark and tries to chide him with a positive tone out of the side of his mouth. "They can sense sarcasm!"
Bruin manages to pull out a piece of his rations and tosses it to Viroleth.
"Try this!" he says in a harsh whisper.
The rogue deftly catches the jerky and offers it to the wary animal. The horse is suspicious, but starving and immediately begins to eat the food out of Viro's hand.
It calms enough for Viro to pet the animal's face.
An open flight of wooden stairs winds up to a trap door in the ceiling, thirty feet above. Perhaps a guard post tower?
Viro looks warily over at the horse as he move son.
"I don't think horses are supposed to eat jerky. They've given it a taste for meat."
That said he leaves the horse in its pen and heads to what he presumes is a tower. He looks up at it warily.
"Hrm, allow me."
Viro scampers up the ladder, and presses his ear to the trapdoor.
"We should leave the beast here for now to ensure its safety." Uirdir comments aloud as Beromar moves towards the double set of double doors.
He pulls Thor from his head and sets him on the ground. "You should stay here too, Thor. It's not safe in there."
Uirdir draws his rapier again and follows the dwarf towards the guard post. "Let's sneak up there and try to catch any guards unawares." he whispers to Beromar.
Silent as a Pixie! That's my credo
Stealth
Alexei will follow behind the others, stopping at the trap door, for a ranged shot if necessary.
Bruin took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Stealth. Yes. A skill that halflings are widely known to have. He gulped nervously and followed.
He stepped on a loose floorboard and the floor let out an audible creak. The others turned to look at the him, and he smiled shakily.
With his ear pressed to the trapdoor, Viroleth can hear loud snoring coming from the other side.
Viro looks down sternly at the group and lets out a soft shhhhh. He attempts to open the trap door very, very quietly.
Viro opens the trapdoor very quietly to find two napping, snoring goblins, with a bunch of discarded pickles all around them. He steps onto the landing silent as death.
Viro looks at the bizarre scene of the the snoring goblins and the pickles. He sighs miserable and slips into the room, yanking out his dagger. Swiftly, he claps a hand over their mouths, slitting their throats.
"A couple of dead goblins and a lot of pickles," he says morosely. "I'm sure I just orphaned some awful, awful goblin babies or something. You can come up if you want."
With the dirty work done, he searches the room.
"Pickles?" says Alexei, shaking his head at the inanity of it all. "I thought goblins only ate the flesh of babies. Least that's what my nanna always told me. If i was bad, the goblins would come pick my bones clean. She never mentioned pickles..."
The Varisian archer keeps a watch on the stairs and the floor below in case the goblin guardians become aware and want to trap the group up the tower.
Uirdir shrugs. "I love a good pickle, but we could have just tied them up or something. No need to murder a... semi-intelligent being for its nature." he says as he picks up a pickles and crunches down.
His face sours and the elf lets the masticated pickle fall from his mouth as he lets the other piece fly into the sea below. "Bread and butter pickles, blech. Nothing is more horrible."
Viro cleans his blade morosely. "Too many lives depend on this and I have the utmost faith in their ability to escape bonds and stab us in the back. That said I'll let someone else make that decision next time."
Unfortunately, Viroleth only discovers an additional bag of warm pickles.
"It's not a simple thing to coldly take a life," says Bruin from below.
"We are in a dire situation. And, you're right, we couldn't afford the risk. And you took no pleasure from the act, as I can clearly hear in your voice. So I understand, and I imagine so does my Goddess. Perhaps, I am wrong, I cannot truly say. Only a simpleton presumes to know the minds of the Gods."
"But take heart, Viroleth Sastan, that I won't judge you harshly."
Uirdir shrugs. "You do what you must. It is just my own opinion." The elf deftly descends the stairs and heads to the next room.
The heroes quietly move onto the next room only to find it nailed shut.
Viro just remains silent after Bruin and Uirdir's comments as he makes his way to the next room. He looks it over and shrugs, getting to work on prying off the boards.
Beromar looks from the murdered Goblins to Viroleth with grim determination and nods approvingly.
Pfah dont's listen to Elves and Butterfly worshippers. Ye does the right thing boy! Didn't think ye'd have the heart for it! We's in a war here and this world has no need for Goblin scum, Giants or Demons. A real Hero does what he gots to do and mercy should only be reserved fer those who know Mercy themselves!
With that Beromar gives the young man a heavy pat on the back.
Anyways ye dids em a favor... better die dreamin o pickles than being smashed by me hammer! The Dwarf enjoys a bawdy laugh at that a bit irritated that his companions were not equally amused by his joke.
"I'm not one to judge as I would slit a goblin's throat in a heartbeat if it attacked me, but I also think that no creature is beyond redemption and if a merciful option is available, then we should pursue that avenue." Uirdir comments in response to Beromar.
"The reason that I am better than the average goblin is because I show mercy. Your words would make you no better than a goblin." he says with a bit of derision.
Obviously, this takes place while Viroleth is trying to concentrate and pick the lock to the next area, distracting him a bit.
Beromar seems truly offended by Uridirs words and barks back a bit louder than would be appropriate to the situation.
Pah... I aint's no phil...osph... ye knows what I means but any Dwarf is better than a Goblin cause we don't make our livin off o runnin round and robbin and killin honest folk. They is nothin but predators on two legs, they like GIANTS, laws and civilization, mercy and honor it mean nuffin to em. Worst part there's a hundred of them fer each of us, so what happens if ye let them have they way. Fight em wit honor and respect. They spit in ye face and they break what generations builts in decades in a day! They didn't have to come to Sandpoint murderin robbin innocent folk. They couldsa stayed in their Marsh knowin they place in the world. But they don't and so we here to put them in their place and may Angradd guide our hands!
"Your words may have merit if we were at war with the goblins, but they have posed little threat to anyone until recently." Uirdir comments. "Find the source of the threat and they return to being an annoyance." he surmises.
Bruin winces at Bero's loud objection, fearing a goblin popping around the corner.
"Might I suggest that this discussion happen after we've survived this whole ordeal. I would like to keep this as stealthy an operation as possible."
After 4 minutes of Viroleth hearing the moral implications of his actions being debated forwards and backwards, the distracted rogue finally manages to get the door open.
The Heroes find that this storeroom is half-filled with crates, barrels, and large sacks of grain . A small hole has been chopped into the lower side of one of the barrels, allowing pickles and brine to drain out and giving the room a singular stink of vinegar.
"Well, that's - rather anticlimactic. Let's move on then."
The Heroes cross into the entrance hall with the dead Harpy and move along to the far right side.
They find an open flight of wooden stairs that winds up to a trap door in the ceiling, thirty feet above. Presumably another guard tower.
Viro frowns and points up.
"At least two goblins arguing over a game or something. Awkward to attack from a ladder. We could jam the trap door shut or something?"
PErception
Go at it boy...we can come back and take em out later...
Viro creeps up the ladder, taking his time before he tries to jam the trap door's latch.
Viroleth expertly bars the door, assuring that even in a general alarm, the goblins will be unable to aid in the general defense.
The heroes continue on their way and find a hallway with two doors. They first check the one on their right, and find that it is locked. With a shrug, Viroleth pulls out the tools of his profession and gets to work.
But the lock is a bit too complicated for even the dependable Viroleth. The group resolves to check back on it later.
From the door to this room, the sound of goblins laughing wickedly can very clearly be heard. They are loud and obnoxious and singing songs in their own chittering language.
"I think a fight is inevitable here, fellows," Bruin says as he checks that his crossbow is ready to fire.
Beromar kicks in the door and shouts at the Goblins.
Your moms is yer grandmoms and your father too! Now come here and I'll make goblin mush of ye!
"Okay, so I squawk like a donkey while Beromar dangles from the ceiling upside-down, once they're confused the--"
"Or that."
Uirdir contemplates summoning his signature ball of snow to deal with the goblin threat on the other side of the door, but thinks better of it and just decides to keep his rapier at the ready.
"The goblins have seemed weak so..."
Bang!
"Well, or we can do that." Uirdir comments dryly. "At least move in, so we can not stand in the hallway like idiots."
Bruin sighs as Beromar barrels down the door.
"I don't know why I expected any different, the halfling said with an amused chuckle."
This large throne room is decorated with hanging furs along its walls, mostly black-and-red striped firepelt skins, various dog pelts, and in some cases, what look like horse hides. Four square timbers support the ceiling, their faces studded with dozens of iron spikes, with the lower reaches decorated with dozens of impaled and severed hands in various stages of decay. To the northeast, a wooden platform supports a throne heaped with dog pelts and horse hides. Dog skulls adorn the armrests and a horse skull leers over the throne's back.
Three goblins are mock attacking what looks to be a poorly-remembered illusion of the four heroes of Sandpoint. The Faux-Beromar is far too rotund and his beard much less kempt and hanging by his knees. Bruin's doppelganger is clearly a gnome, given his bright pink hair and a very long, hooked nose. While Viroleth is more of Viroletta, what with her luxurious blonde locks and overly generous bosom. And the conjured Loges is wearing a dunce hat while dancing with a green bear.
After an awkward moment, the illusion disappears.
Upon the throne sits a goblin petting a gecko with a shocked look on his face.
"It's you!" he shouts incredulously. "Do not come any closer! You haven't yet earned the right!"
He points to Bruin.
"Tiny Butterfly Priest. You seem like you know the value of talking. You may approach. The others must stay back."
Bruin looks to the others, silently asking them what he should do.
Uirdir shrugs. "Do as the goblin king asks and maybe we can resolve this peacefully?"
Keeping a sharp eye out for an agressive action, Alexei keeps an arrow nocked and ready to fire. IN his experience, there is little reason to trust goblins, they can't control their most base impulses even if they tried.
"We are better off killing the lot of them," says Alexei with a grim countenance.
"Welp, there goes that option." Uirdir says as he readies his rapier to strike the goblin on the throne.
Viro looks incredulously at the goblins, and then down at himself.
"So that's what we look like to them..."
He then glances to the group.
"Don't fire yet. I'm not sure about peaceful, but there may be an advantage if we have space to think."
Beromar eyes Bruin wearily.
Ey you knows him? what's this all about?
"No, Beromar. I do not know the goblin sitting on the throne," Bruin said with an exasperated sigh.
"But clearly you know who we are. Warchief Ripnugget, I take it. For your crimes against the people of Sandpoint, I ask that you immediately lay down your arms and surrender the fugitive Nualia and her cohorts. Failure to do so will result in a beat down of epic proportions followed almost certainly by your likely very painful death."
"So, do you yield?" Bruin said with steel in his voice.
The panicked goblin screamed, "Attack!"
"Thought so," Bruin said with a smirk.
Failure to do so will result in a beat down of epic proportions followed almost certainly by your likely very painful death."
Word is bond! Beromar adds to emphasize as he starts to swing his hammer.
Uirdir: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Goblins: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Bruin: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Viroleth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Warchanter: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Alexei: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Ripnugget: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Beromar: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Uirdir chuckles. "Well, I guess it can't be helped at this point."
The elf quickly conjures a ball of ice into his hand and flings it at the goblin in the back.
Then he quickly advances to the other three goblins with his rapier at the ready. "I implore you not to fight unless you wish for death."
"My breasts are lopsided!" shouts Viro angrily. "This will not stand!"
Warchief Ripnugget shakes off the effects of the painful snowball. Meanwhile, his guard rush Alexei and Bruin with horsechoppers, while a third attacks Uirdir.
Beromar gets a swing on one of them. It doesn't quite kill the goblin though.
The goblins attack Alexei, Bruin and Uirdir. Only the halfling manages to barely avoid damage.
, Hit!
, Hit!