"You're telling me." Hezekh says, looking for some way to wipe the goo off his arm.
Toulbe comes charging in with a bottle in hand and a sack over his shoulder. He skids to a stop and looks down at the goo. "Aww...that is not pudding to eat. A sad day indeed. At least I didn't have to waste any resources." he said nodding a bit and looking around at everyone.
"Apologies, I was rather..useless this time." he said looking somewhat down.
Might as well toss those goblin bodies to see what they had on them. Glor says and proceeds to do so. [b]Someone cast a Detect Magic. You never know,,,[ooc]
The two goblin corpses are similarly equipped to the goblin husk you found tangled in the giant spider webs the day before. Leather armor, wooden shields, short swords, although the armor and shields have been corroded a little by the slime cube’s digestive acids. You also find [dice=2d10] gold pieces on the corpses. The coins are of the same dwarven make as the ones you found earlier. One of the goblins carries a totem fetish carved from bone, but it doesn’t ping as magical.
"These goblins surely stumbled upon some old cache or ruin. By the arm of Trudd, we shall seize it instead!"
Goggeck is clearly eager to press on.
Boomer tried to collect up some of the ooze in sample jars before it became contaminated or was absorbed by the ground.
"One more story tacked onto Urist's many tales. This will be a good one for the campfire," he snarked as their leader slowly regained the use of his limbs. "Gather round lads, we're goin' to tell the cautionary tale 'bout how the Mighty Urist learned not to stand right in front of slow moving things that want to eat him."
Hezekh picks up the corroded swords and examines them in turn. ”Hmmm. A bit pitted, and the handles are a might small, but with a bit of working these could make fine daggers.” he sticks them in his pack for later.
"Good thinking, Hezekh. Make use of the goblins' own blades."
"Worst case ye could melt 'em down for the slag..."
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The freshly unparalized dwarf wrings a bit of goo out of his beard before letting out a chuckle. "Naw, lads, 'e 'ad me right where I wanted 'em! I was playin' four dimensional mind games, ye see. Baitin' tha' slime takes go after me obvious feint!
Urist grinds his heel in the shallow puddle that was once their opponent. "Almost a shame we 'ad ta kill it. Back at the Old Fort, some'a tha boys managed ta trap a cube like this'n in a narrow 'allway. Fed 'em a steady diet o' trash an' invaders! Damn fine thing. Ah think we named 'em Urist. After me brother, who caught 'em, o' course."
Though the day's excitement may have been far from over, Urist would be sure to fill its quiet moments by going into great detail about his past ooze wrangling adventures.
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Boomer opened his flask and took a long pull as Urist spun his yarn.
Boomer fails to get to the acidic goop in time, and ends up with a jar full of slimy dirt. The goblins are stripped of their belongings which are loaded onto the cart, and when everyone’s ready, you get a move on.
Once you pass the furthest advancement of the jelly cube, you cease to find bones and such, and the trip once again falls into a lull of uneventfulnes. The hours pass and you check the map; you should be arriving at the Theocrats Vault by the end of the day.
Just as your stomachs tell you it’s about time to make camp, the road begins to straighten out into a long passage, at the end of which, through the darkness, you can make out the flickering warm light of either torches or campfires. Something or someone’s waitin’ down this road.
"Looks like we got neighbors. Want tae go say hi?" Boomer asked.
"Can't imagine it bein' a buncha good folk setting up an inn in the middle o' tunnels...specially not ones filled with slimes and goblins."
Want me to stealth up and have a look? Glor offers quietly.
"If ye can take a look, why not?" offers Goggeck.
Glor creeps along the rough hewn rock walls of the tunnel until he can make out what lies ahead. He sees a low makeshift wall of rubble and trash, about three feet in height that spans the width of the corridor. Beyond that he can see the tunnel opens up into a large chamber, lit by firelight to the left and right, but the source of the light is blocked from view by stone columns. At the far end of the chamber he can make out what must be the entrance to the vaults. Two large statues of dwarves carved directly from the cavern walls flank two large doors of solid iron. There seems to be some imagery on the doors, but details are hard to make out from this distance. From his vantage, Glor can not make out any figures or movement behind the barricade.
For a moment, Glor gets the feeling of being watched, and he holds his breath and hugs the wall. The moment passes and no alarm is raised.
Urist stands with his arms folded, waiting patiently for their scout to return. "...ye see, if ye mix tha right kind'a salt an' liquor, some kinds'o slimes can take a likin' to ya. At least, that's what ol' Urist said. Me brother. Liked tha lil' mix so much it ate it right outta 'is 'and. Took tha 'ole 'and with it, though." At the very least, Urist had the sense to speak at a lower volume.
"Bah. This best turn out well. Ah'd 'ate to report a loss to tha commander after tha first leg 'o tha trip."
Glor hunkers down where he is for a moment and watches and listens. He then propels a small stone across the low wall to see if it attracts attention. Regardless of the result he waits a moment before stealthing back to inform the group.
Glor stills himself, and using his connection with the elemental earth and his sheer force of will, he throws a stone at the low wall. It clatters against the piled up rubble, making enough of a racket to get anyone's attention. He can hear some shuffling and talking from behind the wall. It sounds like multiple creatures speaking in a language he doesn't recognize.
Then, a small head with broad ears pokes above the barricade. Any dwarf worth his sweat knows a goblin when he sees one, but does the goblin see Glor?
It doesn't seem to, for after a moment the goblin returns to its post behind the wall.
Glor is able to report back to the group without any trouble.
"Goblins? Let us move in and crush them!"
Not sure how many total there are. Likely only two at the small wall but surely more at the multiple fires. Would be nice to take the two guards without a sound.
"So, can we take out two silently?"
"Doubt it," Gunnar huffs. "One, easy enough with a good crossbow shot, but two? Not unless one's slow on the uptake."
So we try, but we gotta be ready to storm the entire force if need be. Or retreat I guess if it comes to that. Is there anything anyone can do to ready a retreat? Maybe set up a defensive position with the wagon?
"Put everything we have into offense. Goblins are swifter than we are. A retreat would just let them pick us off."
Toulbe paused and seemed to be pondering for a moment. "Hmm, I wonder what Goblin cuisine is like? Do you think they season and cook their food in interesting ways? Oh...but I have heard they will eat anything, including people." he shudders at the thought.
"Hmm, OH wait, yes...fighting the goblins. We should do that! Oh, it might make an interesting tale. Besides, they always have the most curious collection of things on them typically." he said clapping his hands a bit in excitement and nervousness.
The little buggers are fast...
”Fast they may be, but they’re too stupid to run. Let’s take ‘em, lads.” Hezekh says, flexing his metal arm. He is clearly eager to clean out a nest of goblins.
"Overwhelming offense sounds good tae me." Boomer said, tossing an explosive into the air and catching it.
"Sneak in as much as we can, then charge if they spot us?"
"Or draw them out and pick them off from cover. We charge into a nest of arrows and they'll be the ones tellin' the tale."
"From Glor's description, it sounds like they'd no' even know we were there until we came over the wall and were amongst 'em."
"Thenk ye can lead us there on the same route ye took without being spotted, Glor?" Boomer asked.
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Toulbe nodded and ran back to the cart and pulled out his bag. He came back with it clinking heavily "Ooooh, oooh. I have supplies that might help? I worried about large amounts of spiders swarming about in this danke caves but I suppose a swarm of goblins is very similar and perhaps even more problematic. I'm not the greatest thrower, but I am sure between me and a few others...we could damage quite a few of them and perhaps cower them!" he said as he opened the bag to produce a mixture of colorful glowing flasks.
Inside the bag was nine flasks of varying colors. Three green acid flasks, three boiling red Alchemist's fires, two cold blue liquid ice, and one bright white bottle of holy water. "Do you think we should use em?" he asked cheerfully and a bit nervously?
"Weeeeeeel now, aren't ye resourceful." Boomer said. "Hadn't had the resources t' start brewing those up meself. Glad you packed some."
"Pass 'em out. Lets see how many colors we can turn these gobs."
Toulbe nodded "My mother was the village Alchemist. Hers are a bit more potent than mine but I did learn by caldron side." he said blushing a bit and stroking his luxurious pillowy mustache at the compliment.
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Urist had been listening to his allies plan from the sidelines, considering what he could offer for the group. He raises a finger and opens his mouth as if to interject, but cuts himself off as a look of surprise flashes across his face.
"Ohh. Right, right right." Urist says, almost to himself. Then he looks at the group. "Ah'm gettin' word tha commander wants in on this. Jus' a minute, an' ah'll 'ave 'er 'ere. Feel free ta keep passin' out tha party favors."
The dwarf then turns towards open space and begins to methodically check his own appearance. Straightening the wrinkles on his uniform, carefully cleaning the smears of lingering goo from his beard, and making sure his weapons are properly fastened. His movements are deliberate, exaggerated, and executed in a fashion that seems to be equal parts ritualistic and practical. Then, after a full minute, he snaps into a salute.
A dwarven figure steps into the cave out of thin air, as if passing through an unseen doorway right in front of Urist. Her muscular body is covered in battle-worn steel armor. She wields a greataxe in each hand, choking her grip far towards the bladed half of each handle. Every part of her face save for the eyes are covered by a mask of stone, its minimalist expression contorted in anger. Her physical form lacks any coloration at all, save for shades of vibrant crimson.
"McFatson." she says, before looking at the group. "I hear some goblins need killing."
"Thenk ye can lead us there on the same route ye took without being spotted, Glor?" Boomer asked.
Aye, I can lead ya Boomer. But can you and the others manage to not wake the dead with your clanging about? Glor asks with a smile just before the phantom commander steps forth.
Swallowing hard Glor straitens himself and pauses, at a loss for words.
Boomer was about to reply to Glor, but his words died in his mouth when Urist summoned a ghost out of nowhere.
"What the hell..."
Gunnar blinks at the new form that appears between them, then sniffs once. "You too, aye?"
Toulbe stares for a bit and then leans a bit to the side "This isn't some false vision brought about from years of standing over cauldron fumes right?" he asked honestly a bit concerned that it was.
On Toulbe's offer, Goggeck says:
"Good thinking, Toulbe. We absolutely should throw everything we can at the goblin scum. I should not throw, as my aim is rubbish."
With the the appearance of 'McFatson', Goggeck peers at the apparition, trying to work out what it is that he seeing. The urge to simply strike at the apparent ghost is strong, but it does seem to be willing to cooperate.
From what Goggeck can tell, the apparition before him is some sort of spiritual entity, not necessarily an undead, but rather something akin to a summoned outsider, somehow made manifest through a psychic anchor with Urist. The whole thing is confusing and makes his nose itch.
Hezekh manages not to let his mouth hang open when he spirit appears, but only just. "This commander of yours is...a ghost?" he asks incredulously.
Glor eventually recovers, awkwardly salutes the commander and says With your leave ma'm I'll lead a couple of the more stealthy up to where we will have a shot at the goblins when they show themselves. Once we are in position the rest of the crew can come up at a regular clip, not trying to make noise but not trying not to, like the own the tunnel. When the goblins take a look we blast um. Who is with me?
Boomer fell in line behind Glor, pulling his hat low and his longcoat close around him to muffle the clinking of his various tools, weapons and explosives. He held one of Toulbe's acid flasks in his hands, figuring it would be quieter than his own explosives.
The red-tinged woman glances at each member of the caravan, sizing them up as she addresses the group. "I'm sure you've got questions. I'll make this quick." She raises an axe, tapping the flat of its head against her chest. "I am commander Helga Silverbrew. I'm here to keep Urist in line and make sure none of you end up dead."
Helga gestures towards Urist with her weapon. She seems to have a death-grip on those things. "I'll leave the details of tactics to McFatson. I prefer to lead by example on the front."
Urist nods before he turns the the team, a smile on his face. This all seems pretty normal to him. "Right! Glor, Boomer, good idea. You lads get inta position an' we'll follow up. With tha commander up front, we got this."
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