"All right. This is what we're going to do." Alavar says huddling up with the others in the entrance to the side passage (which I assume he already checked for traps before doing so), "I'm going to set the thing off with my quarter-staff, let out a yell as everything comes down and then groan like I'm injured and stuck under the rocks. If they open the door, Dara, chuck one of your bombs in. I'll try to give anyone that rushes out something else to think about. Calder, Farris, if they get close, they're all yours. Sound good?" and as he assumes that's the plan unless someone stops him, he has them get in position and carries it out...hopefully.
"..or we can do that." Alavar looks up at Dara's exclamation and looks over his shoulder. "Well. I guess it was a good attempt anyway. I'm going to carry out the rest of my plan as stated, it might at least add some confusion to the mix what with the dust in the air and all." and he quickly trips the wire and pushes everyone back out of harms way.
For a couple of long seconds, the goblins stare in frozen horror at the bomb spitting sparks on the floor in their midst. When the spark fizzles out, the greenskins breath a audible sigh of relief, and the enormous, bloated goblin king shoots Dara a reproachful look.
Alavaryar triggers the trap a split second later, filling the tunnel with dust and the clatter of falling rocks.
"Murphy ye'a basted." As Dara's fingers fly over her arsenal, picking another poison grenade, adding a little more reactant. Then for good measure she grabs a concussive one and lets that one fly.
;
;
,
"Toss 'em in an back away from the door, lass. Farris, Calder, to the fore." Alavar shouts scrambling around the debris to get in between the scrappy pirate and the goblin menace that surely must be fast approaching.
The goblin chief bellows for shields in his foul tongue, and they all duck behind their wooden shields as Dara's bombs go off. In the end, only one goblin and the chief remain standing amidst the carnage.
Farris and Calder move in unison, stepping over dead bodies to engage with their swords flashing in the gloom.
Farris' swing is easily avoided by the surprisingly agile goblin chief, while Calder takes the head completely off of his opponent in a gout of black blood.
The goblin chief hefts his spear and shield, smirks and kicks a bottle filled with a milky liquid from his feet into a nearby wall. The bottle shatters, releasing a thick, clearly magical white fog.
Alavar silently runs into and through the white fog like a ghost, launching himself into a baseball slide and using the remaining residue of the white liquid to cover the distance from beyond the felled goblin to the wall flanking the goblin chief opposite of Farris, flexing the left leg curled under him during the slide pops him up at the end facing the chief with drawn longsword in hand. His arms continue working to loose a steady barrage of arrows, a shot for each hex starting from above the felled goblin and continuing as he slides by the chieftains leg to keep his opponent on the defensive.
1)Defense free
3)
4)
5)
6?)
"Thanks for the cover." he says with a snide, almost condescending grin as he pops back up on his feet in a slight crouch.
The goblin chief is too pleased with his fog screen to notice the elf on silent feet ghosting through the fog. His pleasure diminishes considerably as arrows come flying in seemingly out of nowhere.
Two of the arrows imbed themselves into the chiefs shield, while the third finds its mark. The goblin staggers a step forwards as Alavaryars last shot **thunks** into his shoulder eliciting a howl of pain and a string of goblin expletives.
Surrounded by enemies, his guard dead around him, his children poisoned in the room beyond, the goblin chief falls to his knees, defeated. He casts aside his spear and shield and bows his head, awaiting the final blow.
And if it comes back to his turn, Alavar administers the coupe de grace. "Perhaps in another time, this would have ended differently." he says, not allowing himself to feel too much sympathy or sorrow. These are creatures that would have no second thoughts on eating us, after all.
The goblin glares at Alavaryar, a final act of defiance before he slumps to the floor, dead. The magic fog bank fades after a few more seconds, leaving the room clear.
Next to a crude "throne", a wooden table bears a plethora of junk and half eaten food, surrounding a wooden bowl filled with 95gp. A filthy tapestry depicting St. Cuthbert defeating a dragon serves as a carpet near a goblin-sized bed, that with (a lot of) cleaning is worth 500gp due to the gold and silver thread woven into it.
Alavar rolls the carpet so it is ready for transportation later. Looks to the others. He lets his look convey his approval, "Ready to continue on?"
and assuming they are, Alavar scouts ahead continuing to check for traps they may have missed previously, or anyone or anything that might have moved into the area.
"wha?"
Dara's attention is snapped away from the dead goblin king who she'd be studying with a sadness in her eyes that she doesn't let reach the rest of her face. "A'ght." She motions for Loke to lead the way so his elf-sharp eyes will have a chance to spot more of the innumerable number of traps the goblins and hobgoblins safeguarded their home with. Although she keeps an eye out herself, and if she notices anyone about to trip a trap she's prepared to yank them out of the way - either physically or metaphysically.
Moving carefully down the pre-planned route through the back tunnels through the goblin lair towards the hobgoblin complex, Alavaryar easily spots and disarms the spear-head trap along the way, having figured out the particular style used by the trap layer. The tunnel ends in a large room filled with barrels, crates, bundles, sacks, and piles of various stolen trade goods. Cloth, beer, food, and wine of no great quality fill the space.
Dara quickly opens the hidden door she found during her prior scouting, and the group moves on.
Hearing the tripwire that Alavaryar missed, Dara lashes out with a spell, shoving the elf forward onto his face just in time to avoid the crashing rockfall trap.
Farris murmurs "Good save, mum."
Alavar picks himself up off the ground, dusts himself off and looks critically at the rock fall, then glances back at Dara with a grudging but fond and no less grateful smile. "Thanks for the save, lass."
he says with a nod, "Think you can get the hobs in the first room to either lie down an' go to sleep or even better, wait until we get over the barricade, then open the door and announce us to the Chieftains room while you throw in a couple o' your asphyxiation specials?"