Harlan turns the cloak about and admires the cut of the fabric.
"Magic, that's great! I don't feel so lucky lately, this may come in handy. Thank you Walthus!"
Harlan scrunches up his face and looks at the cloak at several different angles. He closes one eye and sticks out his tongue as he attempts to identify the magical properties (if any) of the cloak.
I have no idea.
"This appears to be a quite powerful cloak, the magics in it are mighty and will serve any of us well. I will wear it if nobody else wants it but I make no claim to it, since I was unconscious during the entire time you all saved Walthus."
Sandru will never let me hear the end of that.
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"Oh that poor animal!"
Harlan covers his mouth and moves over to the horse, checking it over.
Harlan looks up at the group. "It's dead Heng."
Malnival raises an eyebrow while watching Harlan test the magical cloak. "I have never seen that technique used before. Then again you "Natural" casters have strange ways."
As the scent of dead horse flesh wafts up, Parity wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Any chance we can use these things' sadism and anarchic nature against them? Not sure how bright they are, but even a half-baked plan may be better than just wandering on up and knocking. We could lure them out by pretending to be lost travelers. Set up an ambush, maybe. The only one they've seen is me ... perhaps we could use that to our advantage as well. I'm not above being used as bait."
To Harlan
"Keep the cloak, little one. Apparently it's built for you. Fate has a way of making itself clear some times."
Maeve shakes her head. "It might work, but it's just as likely to backfire somehow. I mean, we're dealing with goblins, they're not exactly sensible. Charging in is at least something they don't expect. Plus setting up any sort of ambush assumes they're going to be leaving the village soon, which we don't know if they will."
Kvalsir shrugs at Parity's comment. "We shall drepe them easily enough," he growls as he looks for tracks, "Any plan is as good as any other."
Beastfather knows that I haven't done enough fighting recently... especially after that poor showing last night.
Survival to find tracks:
Know(Nature) to see if he can identify the creature described from the description and/or tracks:
Maybe if they hate horses we could construct some sort of decoy horse to lure them into a trap.
"No, that would never work." Harlan mumbles to himself.
Looking at the rest of the group and standing up from the ex-horse, Harland shifts his pack and armor around until they are comfortable.
"Right then, let's go get some goblins. Anybody that doesn't like horses deserves what they've got coming."
I don't think I'm going to want any goblin recipes.
Harlan shudders at some thought, then regains his stern countenance.
Kvalsir finds tracks easily enough - numerous small humanoid prints, booted and barefoot, surround the horse's body and continue in a gaggle over the bridge, leaving an easy path of muddy prints on the wooden planks.
Three hundred paces beyond the bridge, after a number of bends and twists in the path, you come upon an intersection, where the fishing trail branches to your left and right. The majority of the goblin tracks head left, with one going right and then returning a few paces later.
As you continue on, the air of the marsh becomes seemingly more oppressive. A foul miasma of charred flesh and feces overtakes the natural odors, and the wildlife grows muted. Ahead, you see a break in the vegetation, and when you reach it, you spy the Licktoad village.
A filthy vllage-fort surrounded by a crude pallisade sits atop a low hummock of solid ground. A wooden gate in the north wall of the palisade lies in shambles on the ground. Nearby, an algae-filled pool on the northeastern side breaks the pallisade and allows a clearer view into the village's interior, which consists of a collection of ramshackle huts connected by wooden walkways, all built on thick wooden stilts.
A column of greasy smoke rises from the center of the village. Notably, you don't see (or hear) any movement.
Harlan sits on the nearest patch of dry ground and rubs his leg. His hair is pulled back and sweat drips down his face from the effort of keeping up with the others.
"I...should not...have eaten...all that gumbo."
After looking at the camp with the others, he quietly says to the others, "You don't suppose they're all napping do you?"
Maeve frowns, looking at the village with narrowed eyes and shielding them from the sunlight. "I guess they...could be?" she asks, almost not wanting to believe it. "This is odd. Shouldn't they be...partying or something?"
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"They were quite active last night, raiding caravans and mutilating horses. I find it quite likely they've worn themselves out and are resting. What should our plan be? Recover the fireworks? Capture the chief?"
Heng tries to get a good look at the area. "I think the chief and likely the most valuable goods such as fireworks would be back from the front gate. Perhaps we can go over the southern pallisade."
"I don't like how quiet it is ... something isn't right. Heng's idea of going over the wall is our best bet. Should we go simultaneously in maybe 2 different locations, but still close enough to support each other?
Oh Gods, the smell!
Looking at the wall with some skepticism, Harlan says, "I don't think I can climb that without help. I'd rather not split up though, if goblins have strength in numbers then so should we."
That wall is huge! And full of holes. And this whole place is stinky.
Looking at the wall with some skepticism, Harlan says, "I don't think I can climb that without help. I'd rather not split up thought, if goblins have strength in numbers then so should we."
"We'll be more split up all trying to go over in one place was my point. Half over the wall, half not. I think we should all try to go over at once in a line. We'll have to work something out for you, old friend."
Kvalsir scowls at the wall, wishing that he had ten other Ulfen with torches. We could take this village quickly and quietly, leaving the screams for after our initially assault. In response to Heng's question to Maeve, Kvalsir takes a rope from his own pack and tosses it to the monk. "I will scale the wall as well." He declares as he checks his equipment, making sure that his sword is loose in its scabbard and his tossing his spear up to Heng as well as he moves to do just that. Pathetic wall this. Ah well, best to climb now.
Assuming he can get some help from Heng, Kvalsir takes 10 on climbing, for a total Climb check of 10 (after armor check penalty mods). If that's not enough to scale, here's a Climb Check:
"Well, the more of us on top at once the better."
Malnival watches the monk climb the wall then leans his polearm against the wall then attempts to scale it as well.
Climb check:
Parity sighs.
I truly don't understand people. Try to engage, suggest, discuss and it becomes, "No mine!" Reminds me of children.
You leave the cover of the trees and approach the village from the south, and no shouts of alarm or cries of rage greet your arrival. Even climbing the wooden palisade elicits no response, and you are able to quickly help eachother over to the inside. Within, the cloying scent is even thicker. The smoke comes from a pit to the north, just inside the smashed gate. The village remains eerily silent, and you hear only the drip, drop of the dew dampened walls.
"Something is odd here. That gate fell out. Why wouldn't they just unlock it?"
Harlan whispers quietly, afraid of even the lightest sound carrying across the camp.
"Where are they? Harlan, you say the gate fell out? Did they take something from the caravan that we didn't know about? Something that surprised them? Wait ... are there any goblin bodies any where? If not, maybe they created something and are off on another raid?"
This is NOT what I expected. Feeling alone ... is that fear? Ignore it ... ignore it."
Malnival creeps along his pole arm at the ready. "It is as if they are not here. This does smells like a goblin camp, and looks like a goblin camp, but does not sound like a goblin camp. Strange indeed."
Harlan nods at Parity before remembering that the gesture is wasted.
"Yes, like it was blown out. I don't see any bodies anywhere though. Do you hear anything?"
Maeve looks around at the situation, obviously thinking. "Well, either they're asleep, or something happened. Either way, they're not expecting us just now, I don't think." She peers out at the village, hoping to catch sight of where goblins may be hiding.
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Heng feels a chill as they stand unchallenged in the apparently abandoned village. "You are correct. There is something definitely wrong here. Let us check the fire pit. I believe I recognize this scent. I became too familiar with the scent of death in Belkzen."
Heng moves to the smoldering fire looking around for tracks and any trace of the missing goblins.
perception
Malnival moves towards the gate checking for tracks.
Survival:
[
You move north, counter-clockwise around the village, passing by a charred and demolished building on the east end. The shallow pond on the north-east side is murky with algae, and has a rickity wooden pier projecting a few feet into the water.
Goblin footprints are numerous in the muddy open ground between the pool and the gate, and Malnival has no trouble seeing that there has been a lot of recent traffic. The only challenge is figuring out what they were doing.
As you near the source of the smoke, you see it is a pit filled with the partially cremated bodies of a dozen or more goblins. The gruesome pyre is recent work - perhaps in the last few hours.
Malnival looks into the pit and covers his nose and mouth with his left hand. "Oh my. It looks as if someone may have beat us to it."
Perception:
"Well it seems not all the goblins are gone. One was watching us from that building there. Be on guard."
Parity cocks his head and then listens to Malnival and nods his head. "Let's go see who is around, still."
Maeve isn't a great deal behind Heng, intending to slam her own shoulder into the door as well to get some extra leverage.
Harlan stays close to Parity.
"I'll be your eyes Parity, there's no way I can keep up with Maeve and Haela at a full run. Watch out you two, it could be a trap!"
Heng leaps up onto the stilted doorway and slams the small portal open with a swift kick. As he steps inside and his eyes adjust, his nose is assaulted with the rank odor of sweaty goblin bodies and old rags. The hovel's walls are crowded with hammocks and bedrolls, all in chaotic disarray.
A number of high-pitched voices wail in shock, but within seconds these turn to shrieks of rage. Heng sees a number of goblins rush forward, armed with crude knives made from the jagged shards of larger weapons.
Malnival (18), Gobs (17), Maeve (14), Parity (13), Harlan (11), Heng (10), Kvalsir (2)
Maeve is a bit slow to react on seeing the number of goblins, but only a little, quickly stepping in and around Heng, twirling her legs around in a high kick before bringing one foot down toward a goblin's shoulder.
Listening intently and sniffing the air, Parity considers the situation.
Several goblins in 1 location, surprised not malicious like the last ones, timbre of their voices and they only attack in self-defense ... could it be?
"I think they're women and children, Maeve. We should probably reduce our threatening posture."
Malnival Moves into the room and tries to take stock of the situation. He hears Heng trieng to speak to the goblins in common, the he translates it to goblin.
As Malnival and Maeve move into the hut, Heng calls out for them to stop. Mal follows up with the goblish translation, and four of the five skid to a halt, suspicion glittering in their black eyes. The fifth charges heedless, taking ineffective swings at Heng with its blade. Its kin yell to stop, but the goblin keeps attacking until Maeve knocks it out cold with a swift kick to the head.
One of the goblins steps forward, two slicers at the ready. "What you want, humies?"
Harlan shakes his head at the poor goblin knocked out by Maeve.
Glad I always paid my tab and never tried to pinch the back of her knee.
"We want to know what happened here. Where is Gutwad?"
Parity moves his hand away from his sword and leans up against the door frame outside listening with his arms crossed.
Maeve stops after her foot impacts against the Goblin's skull. Settling her feet back onto the ground, she bounces a few times before it really hits her that the fight is over for the moment. "...and telling us how you got the fireworks would be nice too." she adds
Malnival eases his stance, waiting for any deception.
The goblin sniffs and eyes you warily, "Dead things come in the night, cutting-slicing-slaying everyone in sight. Gutwad made them go away with some gifts. We hide away since - if they come back, no Licktoads here! Chief's hiding up in the big hut..."
"Scribbleface, the writer (said with utmost disgust) got the fire-bangs from some smushed ship in the marsh. Our *heroes* found the rest after we smushed Scribbleface." The other goblins start to snicker.
Malnival nods his head at the goblin and turns to the others.
"It says they are hiding becuase the village was attacked by undead last night. The chief Gutwad gave them something, Treasure he called it, and the undead left. It seems Gutwad is in the big hut.
It also says they found the fireworks in a ship wreck in the marsh. A goblin named Scribbleface, whom the killed, alerted the tribe to it."
He turns back to the goblin and puases for a moment before speaking.
The speaking goblin drops its guard, slightly. Its eyes widen with remembered fear while describing the attackers.
"Gutwad gave 'em all the shinies the heroes found! Prolly tons of gold and magic gems!". It frowns at the terrible loss of loot. "The Chief knows for sure - you should ask him. Maybe you can get it back for us?" the goblin asks.
The other goblins perk up, chattering in hopeful excitement.
"So now what do we do? We're getting paid by the ear but they were so helpful. But they'll get mad if we go kill their chief. I should really learn goblin."
Harlan looks wistfully at Malnival, perhaps only slightly jealous that he can't communicate with the creatures. After a moment's reflection he realizes he really doesn't want to talk to goblins anyway.
Malnival holds up his hand to the goblins and turns to the group. "It also says the undead attackers consisted of skeletons. It also says the treasure the chief gave them had been found by their heroes who are also responsible for bringing back the fireworks. It even went so far as to ask if we would get their treasure back, and that we should talk to Gutwad.
Maybe we should find out what the treasure was. The undead threat may be more of a problem to town than even goblins with fireworks."
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"I think the bounty for ears was barbaric anyway. After all this, perhaps the tribe can be encouraged to move. I almost feel sorry for them, but I don't trust goblins to behave either."
"Undead are a more grave threat. and whatever is behind them. I don't think skeletons have enough left in their skulls to take much interest in treasure. Will these goblins lead us to their chieftain?"