Dorik moves a short distance, still tied up in the vegetation grasping onto him, but gets close enough to attack the goblin. He brings the massive weapon down on the goblin who only barely manages to keep it from crushing him. Still it catches the goblin as it tries to maneuver out of the way cracking into his shoulder where you hear an obvious snap. Ioxeia moves up, stepping over Dan as he lay on the ground severaly wounded, and smacks the goblin with her shield while he is off center from Dorik's attack. Dan struggles to get up but manages to make it up and steps back behind Dorik, getting away from the goblin before another attack comes.
The goblin snarls at Dorik and his threats and spits back at him "Za mu gani game da wannan. Ku duka za su biya Tangletooth!"
With that he steps back and then makes his way into the brambles, to the west where he seems to pass through them undetterd and disapears from sight.
"Hmph. That's torn it. Let's get clear of this stuff 'fore more of 'em show up." Thorfinn double-moves north and west out of the entangle.
Thorfinn's previously-stated action stands.
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"Agreed," Ioxeia says, over the rustle of twisting and tearing branches as she slowly forces her way through the clutching plants, following Thorfinn. I hope we can all get free before reinforcements arrive. She refuses to think about how many goblins might still be hidden in the undergrowth, let alone Thistletop proper.
Chim and Dorrick follow behind Thorfinn, joined by Ioxeia moments later, all making their way after the grasping roots and vines.
Dan struggles against the entangling plants, moving north.
"Any of you talk Goblin?"
As you all group up on the other side of the entagling vines you hear chanting from the west. Dorrick nods to Thorfinn "I speak their foul tongue."
"What did that little rateater say before he ran off?"
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Dorrick replies "Basically, all of us are going to pay for killing his pet."
"Hmph." Thorfinn grins in his beard.
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As she moves out of the reach of the enspelled vines, Ioxeia just barely relaxes. The close tunnels are still oppressive, but at least the plants aren’t actively trying to hinder her. Nodding at Dorik’s translation of the goblin’s threat, Ioxeia listens to gauge the distance that the chanting has travelled. Quietly, she says, “I don’t think he’s heading for Thistletop itself, yet, at least, not by any way that we noticed. Let’s see, if we came from that direction before we even entered these tangles…”
She pauses as she tries to reorient herself. “Maybe we should retrace our steps through the tunnels we took to get to that last clearing? Hopefully he won’t slip past us that way, though with that trick of passing through the thorns… I wonder how he does it.”
Thorfinn's grin widens. "It's not that hard to learn--my old teacher had the trick of it."
Dan takes a few moments to murmur a prayer to Cayden, healing the least of his wounds. He grimaces and shakes his head. "No one ever said Cayden doesn't have a sense of humor," he mutters.
He sighs. "Anybody else want to reconsider the 'burn this whole place down' plan?"
As Dan heals himself Chim waits for the others next move, while Thorfinn and Ioxeia talk.
Thorfinn looks around the area quickly for anything of interest.
Moments later the goblin from before appears once again, even with Thorfinn looking around he misses him sneaking back in as he points his wand at Dan and a small ball of flame launches forth.
The flame washes over Dan burning him a bit but not nearly as bad as it could have been. Dorick seeing his foe once again rushes forward to fight.
Dorick's swing connects solidly into the chest of the goblin, seeming to briefly knock the air out of him.
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Seeing the goblin reappear, Ioxeia darts after Dorik to intercept the creature, striking at it with her weight behind her bladed shield in an attempt to compensate for the lack of room.
As she struggles to hold the creature back, Ioxeia steals a glance from the corner of her eye to see where everyone else is and how much room they have to manoeuvre. Her thoughts race, It will take a second for Thorfinn to round the bend in the passage. There's room behind us and to the right. If we can occupy this thing for a bit longer, then give ground, I can try a spell and make room for Thorfinn to close. Let's do that.
Thorfinn closes most of the distance to the goblin, preparing to attack at his next opportunity.
Dan, already badly hurt, flinches at the searing ball of flame and calls once more on Cayden to heal him.
Dan infuses himself with the divine powers of Cayden as the others move up to assist Dorrick in his attacks. Ioxeia strikes out with her weapon, but with the cramped space she doesn't manage to connect. Chimm takes aim as usual with his magic missiles.
As the missles slam into the goblin he steps back and begins casting a spell as healing light washes over him.
Dorrick steps up after the goblin and attacks.
Smashing the goblin with the weapon the goblin holds his wounds and one hand out in surrender "Wait... no please don't kill me." he says in common.
"Hmph. Why not?"
He thinks for a moment unsure how to respond "I was only defending my home. I knew you longshanks would come to slaughter what remained of our tribe."
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Ioxeia is startled by the goblin’s request, and she only just relaxes. Her mask conceals a brief cynical grin at Thorfinn’s ominous question, and the goblin’s unflattering assumptions about “longshank” bloodthirstiness. Hardly, she thinks. Aloud, she says, keeping her voice sharp and cold, “That was not our intention. We came to seek justice from the leaders of the attack on Sandpoint. What has the town done that it should suffer your raids? Will you answer for it? Alone? Where is Nualia?”
She glances at the others, unsure if she’s pushing too hard. Can this be the mighty Ripnugget of Thistletop? For that matter, where’s the island itself? Through her tension, she dimly feels the weight of the sword against her hip. I suppose it’s too late to introduce ourselves as the slayers of Koruvus, she thinks grimly.
Dan, just recently healed from near unconsciousness, grimaces at the goblin's request and looks at Ioxeia. "We should take his spell component bag or holy symbol or whatever he uses to case spells. Just to keep everyone honest for the duration of this little talk. We can give them back if we're all friends at the end of the conversation."
Thorfinn lowers his axe, but continues to glare at the goblin while negotiations are taking place.
The goblin looks to Ioxeia "The raids were not our idea and I even adviced against them. That is why I stay out here. I told the chief other longshanks would come if we attacked. Nualia though, I'm not sure who that is. Is it one of the longshanks that are working with the chief? If so, the chief has let them take up residence under the fort."
Thorfinn nods slowly, unwillingly impressed by the goblin's thinking. "Hmph. You've got some sense in your head, for a rateater." "Where's this fort?"
The goblin glares at the dwarf "What will you do if I direct you there? I don't plan on letting you just walk in and kill all of my kin."
"Much as I'd love a fight, you're right. Sounds like things were fine here until those outsiders showed up. If they were the ones pushed your people into attacking, we get rid of them and things go back to normal. Right?"
The goblin nods "Though I don't know if the chief will go along with that, but he may be a lost cause."
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This is almost civilized, Ioxeia muses, while Thorfinn and the goblin exchange glares, though I doubt the tribe will appreciate our meddling with their politics. Despite herself, the mischief of it strikes her as mildly amusing. She reassures their interlocutor, “We would like to try. If we can remove the bad influences on your chief, it will be better for all of us.”
She tries not to let her thoughts run away with her as she tries to throw the least improbable plan together and all sorts of possibilities skitter through her brain. She continues, “As to who these strangers are, can you describe them? We’re looking for a woman, beautiful –” Even as she says it, she realizes that goblins probably aren’t that aware of what “longshanks” tend to find attractive, and hurries on, “by human standards, but with a clawed arm… She might normally have a man with her, of elven blood, light on his feet?”
She offers the best that’s occurred to her so far. “Are there guards at the fort? If you could convince them that we’re associates of whoever’s working with your chief, and even better, convince them they’re needed elsewhere, that might be best. If your chief is as stubborn as you say, though we have no intention of slaughtering your tribe, we might need to fight our way out, and then we won’t be inclined to use the flat of our blades.”
As the edge creeps back into her voice and the weariness of assuming a threatening pose into her spirit, Ioxeia reminds herself inwardly to show no weakness, and hopes for the best.
The goblin rubs his head where Dorick smacked him with the earthbreaker and responds "There were four longshanks that came to the fort. Their leader was a woman. With her were two men and another woman and Bruthazmus. As to the fort, yes there are plenty of my kin there. I can get you to the chiefs room with no incident and keep the others from getting involved but what you do while there, you are on your own. The chief no longer heeds my advice but I still have weight over others in the tribe."
"Bruthazmus, eh?" Thorfinn grins. Be nice to bring his head back for that pointy-ears ranger!
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When Thorfinn repeats the name, Ioxeia represses a shiver of horror mingled with disgust. Who preys on my people. The sworn enemy of Shalelu...
Shaking the feeling off, Ioxeia glances around the party. "Indeed. I should still be able to manage most of my spells today before I'm reduced to cantrips or fighting without magic, but how's everyone else feeling? Press on, or settle in for a watch - hardly a siege - while Dan and Chimaeryus get some of their energy back?"
"I'm only scratched--be better to have Chim and Dan at their best, though."
Dan nods. "I'm good for maybe one more fight." He nods his head at the goblin. "From the sound of things, we might be in for more than that once we get to the fort. It's probably best if we can stop and take a break. I wouldn't mind jumping those men and women in their beds, either. People are more reasonable when they don't have their swords in their hands." He looks at the goblin. "What do you think? Can you keep your tribemates off us out here until the wee hours of the morning and then sneak us into their rooms while they're sleeping?"
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Difficult, I imagine. This creature doesn't know Nualia by name; could he lead us to her quarters, before someone wakes up? The increasing number of variables is troubling, but Ioxeia keeps silent.
"A watchful rest, then, and either stealth or an embassy to the chief, tomorrow," she murmurs abstractedly.
The goblin gives a brief nod "I can try, though leading you to their rooms I can't help with. They stay beneath the fort."
Dan shrugs. "If you can get us past most of your tribemates, I guess that will have to do."
Heading outside the tunnels you setup a camp to rest, taking watch in turns through the night to ensure no problems arise. You rest through the nite with no incident. Waking up to a new morning and the sounds of the coastal forest.
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Sitting up in her bedroll, Ioxeia shakes fragments of uneasy dreams from her thoughts. Dimly remembered details press themselves upon her – she was walking through the great hall in a magnificent palace, like what she imagines the queen’s court must be like in Iadara. Curtains of unearthly light fell through tall windows, but what lay beyond them escapes her. She remembers her vision dazzled by starbursts and kaleidoscopic twists of colour, and vague presences that seemed to know her, and which she was troubled not to see more clearly or recognize. She thinks they were knights and courtiers, of a sort.
Her heart suddenly lurches, confusing her meditations on the next details that recur. In her dream, she wore long, black hair down, and … and … she had wings. She gets up and forces herself back to the present by an effort of will. A fleeting nightmare shard of panic leaves her with one last intrusive thought, only a name: Macha.
Throughout her ensuing preparations, Ioxeia is subdued. She concentrates on the difficult task of negotiating a goblin fort with as little bloodshed as possible, and, for the most part, succeeds in keeping her attention on immediate priorities. Nonetheless, at odd moments a strange feeling comes over her that someone is calling to her, an unfamiliar tug at her name.