Smoog feels the icy dragon desire swell within him.
He had felt this once before but this time he shivers from the deepest chill he has ever experienced.
Hegh's dragon gift searches for a way to assert itself and when the blue kobold sees Hegh sprout wings, his body instinctively does the same.
-
"Here goes nothin'..." and Smoog leaps after Hegh
Thunk shrugs and charges and leaps high into the air, as he does wings sprout and he takes off after Hegh
WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
The acrid touch of the dragon’s blood is familiar to Sees, but the overwhelming pressure of the instincts that come with it are too much for a nubile Kobold who has already been suppressing more than she should. The grip of cruelty is too much for her hairline discipline and too close to her basic nature. At first, she simply grits her teeth, glowering at Hegh’s warning and sneering internally at the implied command. Then, she spots Smoog, soaring over the chasm, and she bares her teeth in a sinister grin.
This time when she pushes out the wings, she manages to keep them from damaging her pack. Although, the vest pulls up uncomfortably around her shoulders as the voluminous overshirt gathers under her arms. Taking to the sky, Sees-Death impacts Smoog roughly, latching onto him, and the two of them tumble to the opposite side of the canyon, her wings shattering at first impact with the ground.
Frothing and snapping, blinded by an uncontrollable cruelty among other sordid instincts, Sees finds herself on top of Smoog for the third time. She claws ineffectually at his clothes and nipps at his neck, but is generally too overcome with burning energies to make any progress, and it’s mostly embarrassing for her.
"Ahhhh! What is this power?" the orc manservant that you have captured growls. Greenish wings the color of his skin erupt from his back, and he takes to the sky with clumsy, but powerful flaps.
His eyes are blazing red and his teeth are bared, exposing his intimidating tusks. He roars in ecstasy at the newfound power of flight he has been granted. "Continue to grant power in this way and you will conquer the very world itself, Dragonlords!" he shouts, exultantly.
He's just off the ground when a tussling from behind causes the orc - and the other kobolds - to turn around. Sees-Death has been overcome by the bloodlust and the desire for power inherent in the blood of a dragon. The magic sharpens her sexually, and even those kobolds least interested in coupling, such as Pork, are stirred when they look upon her. The formerly humble poopsmith-turned-Dragontongue is like a miniature dragon herself, flapping her wings fiercely, and though Smoog is able to keep aloft after a moment's struggling, he has cuts and lashes on his cheeks and neck from her attack.
The blue kobold hovers a few feet back from the red-streaked black, barely restraining his own indignant draconic rage.
A brief, sharp moment passes where nobody moves and nobody speaks.
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Smoog wipes a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and considers once again whether the dirge has full control of her faculties?
-
Ice madness... the same that holds Hegh... and any he anoints with his blood gift is susceptible.
-
As his wings retreat back into his body, Smoog turns and heads southeast.
Let them fight.
Hegh watches dispassionately as the Poopsmith and the Tinker fight. Once the Tinker disengages and heads southeast, Hegh follows.
The kobolds begin flying off southeast, following the general southerly trend of the river at the bottom of the gorge. The orc calls out over his shoulder, "Hurry! I see my brothers riding up! They will not shortly forget what you did to their camp!"
You look back to the ridge that you just left behind, and see that the orc is right. The group of slavers had returned to camp mere moments after you had left, and picked up your trail quickly. Mounted atop their Wargs, they shake their weapons and scream futilely after you as you fly away from them. It seems they valued chasing you for their revenge instead of chasing after the runaway slaves.
As you fly southwest, you see that the warg-riders are following the gorge too, trying to keep up with your flight. How long do these wings last under normal flight conditions, Hegh? How long can you all stay aloft using these unfamiliar muscles? The gorge continues southward for at least five more miles that you can see. What do you do?
Thunk powers through the flight as long as the others do
Defy danger con
You fly without further incident across the wide gap of the gorge. Down below, you see an old figure in rags walking along the river's banks, but you largely ignore it and continue on.
You land on the far side of the gorge, and see that the southern mountain range containing the city of Erdogan is closer than ever. As you were aloft, you saw the road that you had been following prior to the Orc ambush picking up again. Looking behind, you see the Warg-riding orcs shaking their weapons at you and shouting. You can just barely make out their angered voices on the wind, but no specific words.
The orc marvels at his own wings, looking up overhead at them as they shrink back into his back when the spell ends. "Wow," you hear him mutter, dully.
Your newest manservant glances back the way you came. "Beardcutter won't let us go that easily," he observes. "Already he drives his slavers on. Revenge on you will take priority over recapturing the slaves, for him. We should watch our backs, and keep moving. Where are we headed, Dragonlords? Off to capture some slaves of our own?"
Tanard is in a thoroughly pleasant mood after flying through the air, and is flapping her own wings determinedly while wrapped safely around Hegh's arm.
Hegh's body sags noticeably after the exertion of the past few minutes, but he holds his head high as the small band continues southeast.
"Merely a taste of our God's blessings. Your previous master's true mistake was setting you to a task you have no passion in. Your loyalty to us will be repaid in such magnificent carnage. So... supposing we spend a little time in the dwarf stronghold to the south--dealing death to the deserving, recruiting dueregar to the fold, etcetera--can we depend on some trouble coming from- Beardcutter, you said? Can't imagine he's much of a friend to Dwarves."
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The orc's face splits into a tusked grin at Sees-Death's words. He's practically licking his lips at the prospect of more bloodshed. "You speak well, little kobold," he says, looking down at you from his impressive 6'4" height. "Beardcutter is friend to no one but himself, but the slavers always avoided official dwarf patrols on Lord Krondor's business. It helps us to avoid the Barbarian Lord's direct attention. His rule is unquestioned in these lands, and tales of his power are legendary. They say he singlehandedly killed ten black dragons in the lands to the north. AT ONCE." He glances off in the direction of the opposite side of the gorge once more, and hrmphs. "This development may change things. I do not think Beardcutter will let this go. You stole his loot, destroyed his camp, and released his slaves. The last person to slight him in any way even CLOSE to what you kobolds did..." he trails off, then grins again at the memory. "We feasted for weeks on his flesh, and the flesh of those that followed him." He turns to you.
"But he did not deal with those that have power such as yours, no. I do not think he would be able to kill you fairly."
"Well we do not play fair either.
Maybe we should allow him to follow us from the other side of this ravine and deal with him on our own terms.
If we ambush and kill Beardcutter, would the rest of his orc band accept us as their new leaders or would we need to kill them all?
Either that or we turn away from the ravine now and try to loose them before they can find a way across."
-
Smoog then studies the terrain ahead and the ravine floor below as he walks for a while.
-
"Dross... we could have enlisted his forces to secure the hold while we murder Krondor. A way out once the place is destabilized would have been convenient, and it would have been nice to leave someone in power who would be sure to run the place into the ground. Anyway, don't put so much weight in second-hand stories. I saw that bloatacious lush flailing about the night Gorlaug died, and if it could be said blood were on his hands, it would wash clear in the ale-stinking sweat produced the next time he broke wind. We'll need at least one night to collect ourselves, but we could circle around and destroy what they have left if it would settle your minds." Sees continues along the dry landscape, casting about and trying to avoid eye contact with Smoog and Hegh.
Thunk want thump orcs. Thunk replies to the idea of us setting up our own ambush.
The orc laughs at Smoog's suggestion. "Ambush Beardcutter's whole slaver band? Hohohohoho. Little kobold, I don't think you would want to do that. I would rather keep traveling with you kobolds, not see you in Beardcutter's cages." he keeps chuckling to himself a little.
As the orc laughs at the thought of such puny kobolds killing a whole orcish warband, holding his belly, Smoog ignores him and studies the land ahead. The gorge runs almost perfectly north-south in this area, with the Stonespire Mountain range dominating the southern horizon. Far off to your left, off in the east, you see what looks like a town. You remember seeing a Time Temple in that area, on the map that you saw on the floor of the map room of the necromancer's hideout. You judge that at walking speed you wouldn't be able to get there today, but you'd be very close by tomorrow morning. As for the mountains themselves, 2 days' full journey.
Kibra, excited from all the recent action, the flight, and his freedom. He is visibly shaking.
I never thought I would be free from those beasts! What are the chances of meeting other Kobolds here?
Looking at his rescuers more closely Kibra is aware of some sort of familiarity. He notices the scars and grime on his kinsmen and realizes he has no clue what they must have gone through.
Wait, I know you! Your Scoops from Moontower Mountain! Are you all from the mountain? What happened? I saw it erupt and the swamp was decimated. I thought everyone was dead and I ran.
Realizing he was babbling and that now was not the time for reunion Kibra added: I know we don't have time to talk now, lets get as far away from those Orcs as possible.
Many of us are from the mountain, and the great Gorlaug's blood runs through our veins. Gorlaug's spirit is unbroken, and lives on within our Queen. Your freedom is at her pleasure, your life is at her whim. Welcome to the Blood Guard. You will take point. Do not fail your Queen.
After speaking, Hegh largely ignores the conversation between Sees and Kibra, instead casting confused and almost injured glances towards Sees.
When the group sets forth, Hegh travels with Tanard perched on his right shoulder. On occasion he tilts his head closer to the dragon as if straining to hear. Infrequently he emits a deep laugh as wisps of ice emanate from his gullet.
When Sees finally recognises the Kobold that had ducked into the party during their escape, she opens her mouth to say something, then clamps it back closed, her teeth clicking. Subconciously, her hands move to the dwarven undershirt, she is wearing as a dress, trying in vain to press out the wrinkles. The enchanted vest and bowler hat, while far more valuable, were not as resplendant as her courtly poopsmith vestments.
"Ah, uhm, yes. Of course, Kibra. Other than Thunk, who is from the former clan of the All-Eater. We're on a quest of vengeance and resurgence in the name of Gourlaug. We are not much of a clan, but we have a dragon, and we slew the necromancer. I can tell the tale in full when we stop to camp. As it happens, my station has risen somewhat, so we, er... may not be picking up where we left of."
The dirge gives Hegh a brief, sidelong glance, but doesn't turn her head from the horizon.
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Me Thunk. You like thump?
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Smoog walks.
He walks and thinks.
-
So much has happened yet so much stays the same.
Will I forever be the punching bag for others? the butt of their jokes?
I thought things would be different now, you know... better... a fresh start.
-
Smoog slips back into his familiar coping mechanisms;
he retreats back into his agile mind, memorizing the number and location of clouds in the sky
(which somehow he has counted in a single glance),
rhyming words from A to Z and back again,
touching his thumbs to the tips of each finger three times;
yes, sets of threes always seemed to calm him down.
His head clears and the melancholy recedes.
-
O.K. Smoog, snap out of this.
-
He looks down at his gear, feels the embrace of metal and gears.
His hands reach up and feel the goggles that now seem such a natural part of his face he almost forgot they were there.
His metal tail, all the parts of his new self.
-
NO, I am different. I am not the weak Smoog of before. I won't allow myself to be weak anymore.
Fssst said these things I found don't make me powerful.
Maybe he is right, Maybe they are unlocking power in me that I could not see before.
They are a part of me now and I a part of them.
Together we are better. Together we will be great.
-
Smoog stands a little taller and picks up his pace.
He swings their path out away from the ravine to put the orcs on the other side out of sight before turning again to head straight for Estr.
-
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All of this is such a whirlwind. Gourlaug really is dead, these Kobolds seem to be hunting down his killers. One of whom is already handled. They must be quite the capable bunch.
Well Scoops, its great to see you again. It seems like all of our stations in life have adjusted. I can't wait to catch up.
Thunk from the clan of the All-Eater, well met sir. I in fact do love to thump, although I prefer to do it from afar, I suppose I would say that I prefer to thwack.
Kibra, seeing the goggled Kobold draw away from the group, decides to give him space. There will be plenty of time for introductions. I have a feeling I'm beggining down a long road.
As he traveled down the road with his new companions, Kibra recounted one of his first encounters away from the mountain. And although he spoke to no one in particular, simply saying the words gave him a sense of comfort. Like a weight being released from his chest.
This whole time after the eruption I have been on my own. I was not really sure what to do or where to go so I simply went forward. The first few weeks were nothing too difficult. Although I had never been outside of the swamps, the trapping and hunting was not difficult.
About 12 days ago things took a turn. About mid day I came across the tracks of a sizeable group. Hoping to find survivors from the mountain I followed the tracks to the outskirts of a hasty camp. The whole camp was full of nasty smoothskins. I counted at least 15 of them. They seemed to be celebrating all through the night. They had 3 or 4 sentries who seemed to busy catching a few z's than with watching the forest. I knew this was my moment...
I waited until the time was right. I set up a dozen spring-snares, leading into and out of the camp. One of the sentries took off into the woods to relieve himself. I stayed up high in the branches, skirting around his vision and I waited until he had stopped, about 25 feet from the closest sentry. I knocked an arrow, breathed deep and let her rip.
Thinking about his first non-animal kill, still gave Kibra chills. Why did I like it so much?
The arrow went clean through the smoothskins back and out his front. He wailed, louder than I expected and that drew the other 2 sentries out of the camp. The had their swords drawn and were drawing near to me. I knocked another arrow...zoom into the second. His companion spun to see his friend take the arrow into his neck. By the time the last sentry looked up into the tree I released another arrow into his chest.
I had never felt so alive! That night, something inside of me was awakened. Half the camp rose to the groans and gurgling of their sentries. Throughout the rest of the night I took them out. Two here, one there. Two of them managed to get stuck in my snares, just handing from a tree waiting for my arrows. They really are dumb creatures. Before dawn broke I searched the camp for any sign of Gourlaug's treasure. Unfortunately I did not find anything that reminded me of home.
We'll start off the journey with an End of Session and Level Up move for all of you, good place to do it since we're introducing Kibra and possibly two others that have also expressed interest - Atlas is making a necromancer and someone posted on Reddit that they were interested in joining the group as well.
When you reach the end of a session, choose one of your bonds that you feel is resolved (completely explored, no longer relevant, or otherwise). Ask the player of the character you have the bond with if they agree. If they do, mark XP and write a new bond with whomever you wish.
Once bonds have been updated look at your alignment. If you fulfilled that alignment at least once this session, mark XP. Then answer these three questions as a group:
Did we learn something new and important about the world?
Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy?
Did we loot a memorable treasure?
For each “yes” answer everyone marks XP.
It's important to note that in my campaigns, you aren't limited to marking off and taking XP from one bond. You can resolve and make as many new bonds as you wish for more XP gain; in fact, I encourage you to do so.
That means Thunk gets a new question about his homeland from his barbarian racial. Thunk: while the All-Eater - and therefore your tribe - was hostile to most other living things, there was one race/group/organization (choose one) that enjoyed peaceful trade and cultural relations with your tribe and its parent dragon. Who were they and do they exist in these foreign lands?
It's about midday when the kobolds use Hegh's magic to cross the gorge. With Smoog taking the lead, and Kibra bringing up the rear alongside their new orc servant, the kobolds set off due East, toward Estr, where the time temple from the map can be found.
Do you make camp when the sun falls below the horizon later that afternoon, or do you push on through the night to reach the town's border wall?
The Eaten
There was a cult of humans. All infected with a disease similar to leprosy, this did not affect kobolds. In fact there is an ointment that can be made from Kobold sweat and saliva that soothes the pain, and slows the spread of the disease. This cults numbers rose and fell as outbreaks were contained and worsened, but there were always those who were ill. Those who joined the cult took on worship of the All-Eater and supplied information and goods in return for the ointment.
Excellent. Name this cult and mark an XP.
Thunk approaches Hegh. We take pause to thump, but you want learn 'bout All Eats?
With a pack bursting with food and ale, Sees still manages to keep the party from over-indulging. On their first night camping, she sets the acorn angreal to silence the camp and cracks the first of the mini kegs to celebrate the growing clan. She cooks and tells the story of their quest so far.
Sometime after Gorlaug's fall, I encountered Thunk Mansbane, who was seeking the slayers of the All-Eater. I called out with Gorlaug's Woe, and summoned those who still mourned on the mountain. We encountered Bolgir the blighted, who had betrayed his race for the promise of greater power. He was carrying a portrait which we can now use to track the paladin wherever he hides in this world or the next.
In the fires that night, Fssst Firebrand saw the end that would come to Moontower Mountain. We sought refuge in a nearby settlement, only to find Gorlaug's other horn mounted on the wall as a trophy. We set fire to the houses and bound the doors with magic. The grief-stricken rage of the mountain that night scoured the faithless from the mountainside. Gorlaug's Wrath was recovered from the flinders.
Traveling south among the ashes, we encountered the Necromancer, whose name will be stricken from the annals of history. He had desecrated a temple to raise an army of the dead, but such an army was no match for our wit. In the end he succumbed to his own ambitions, and Smoog's contraptions. From his lecturn, we recovered his dark tome, and a scrying orb.
On our way out we delt with some pigskin vermin, and, answering to the call of Gorlaug's Wrath, our dear Tanard hatched. That bring us to the events of this morning.
Kibra takes in the stories of the group's adventure with eyes as wide as a schoolboy. His attention fully captured on every word. He was so caught up in the story that he barely ate or drank.
As the group celebrated their victories and the addition of new members Kibra was completely shocked by the reality of it all. The distance journey, the death of Gourlaug, the birth of Tanard. As the picture of the events began to form in his head he was overwhelmed. He just sat there stroking Meep in his lap, completely swept away by it all.
This isn't just some jumble of Kobolds raiding a small town. They have purpose, drive and anger. They have experienced so much and so much has changed since the mountain.
Unsure of his place in the new group and feeling very inadequate surrounded by these heroes Kibri makes a conscious effort to focus on their stories and learn as much as he can.
When Sees completes her recap Kibri looks around to the rest of the group waiting for any other input.
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"Every time you tell it, Sees, we get more awesome and Thunk gets taller by inches," Smoog says with a friendly smile.
"Now though, let us look to the next step.
Our immediate future requires deliberate thought and careful consideration.
We have plots to weave, plans to hatch and foes to kill.
-
I think we all agree that the Paladin is by far our most hated but strongest enemy and will take us a while to amass enough resources to prevail against him.
-
Next, we have the Elf Wizard and Dwarf Barbarian.
Both Lords and high standing figures in their communities.
Their deaths will be huge news and raise the alarm of all others left alive.
-
Therefore I suggest we concentrate on the Half-pint Druid and Faerie-Witch.
They seem more accessible and less insulated.
Their deaths can be cloaked with uncertainty as to how and who.
Let us go after them next before they are alerted to our hunt for them."
We in Long Beard land.
"Well yes, but Lord Krondor controls quite a large bit of this area.
We are not on his "doorstep" yet.
It might be best if we remain hidden agents for a while longer and take out the easier-to-approach targets first before we try to infiltrate the Dwarf-King's domain."
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He cocks his head to the side and says emphatically and slower
WE. IN. LONG. BEARD. LAND. NOW.
"O.K., so I am not a battlefield tactician or military strategist but I do know that when you need to get rid of a BIG rock from a mine tunnel, you first have to remove the smaller ones.
-
Thunk, how do we get to the main Long-beard?
He is in his stronghold fortress,
guarded but hundreds of dwarves,
(and I bet there is only one working castle gate.)
-
Wait... are we talking about the same Longbeard?
Lord Krondor?
Or are you saying there is another Longbeard around here?"
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Sees interposes on the conversation, pushing the two apart at first, then drawing her hand back from Smoog as if it burned. She's at least a bit tipsy by this point and she slides her hand up Thunk's shoulder for support before blinking down at his bare scales and retrating that claw as well. "S'okay. Y'know why? 'cus we don' even know either of those guy's wheresaboots- wheresabouts- the places where they are. We don' even know whos his name is. The dirty piglette one. The drood. Uhm, but you're toooootaly right, Smoog, we can't, like... we can't, like, walk up to Krondor and be like" she pulls the dagger from her belt and comes dangerously close to stabbing Smoog before the heavy blade slides out of her fingers.
"Whoops, oh, lil' bro, I didn't mean- are you-? N'vermin' I'll jus' sing you a lullababy laters. You'll be okay. -but yeah! We can't, like make it super obvious that we're killing him, so we gotta spend some time slittin' throats in tha dark and gathernin intelligence..."
The intoxicated bard stoops to within inches of falling over on the floor trying to pick up the dagger and return it to her belt. Her dress slides over her back as she does so, but her belt saves her from ducking completely out of the garment. "Oh, twinkletoads! That little loud-mouthed- I wonder what faeries taste like. Like, they've always got that, like, sparkly light... like are they bugs or are they pigs? Ammirite? -but yeah. If it turns out one o' those other two is easier to get to, we can change course, but just right now we've just got the man-bear-pig and that low-down two-faced race traitor Immanuel."
The dagger finds it's way back into the rawhide scabbard at Sees-Death's belt after only four attempts. Satisfied she's diffused the fight, she toddles over to one of the new recruits and finds a place to sit down. "Are we for sure he's a paladin of Bahamom? I mean, like, I'm really not, like, a religious person, and I'm prolly tha last person to aks about magic, but I would'a thought Labamba was like the king of dragons for everywhere. You'd think it was like, umpossible for him to stay a palandin if he kills a dragon. Like, what's up with that?" She looks up at the stars for a moment. "What's up with that, Brohamut‽" Her drink spills as she's looking up and she looks down at her cup as if betrayed. "Thanks Obama!"
Kill all Long beard!
Thunk says after Sees finishes her display. Then as if he forgot something he races to Hegh
Time to sit with Unc Thunk! Learn good thump!
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Well Scoops may have one through alot and all that, but she still knocks them back in a hurry.
I probably don't have much say in this endeavor as I have no clue who any of the bad folks are. But there is much logic in a decision to avoid attacking a fortified Dwarven fortress head on. But if you don't know the druid or fairy's location then our options may be limited.
Would there be any way to go after the dwarf not head on? A saying I have heard comes to mind "Secret Operations are essential to war; upon them the army relies to make its every move. (Sun Tzu)"
As Sees totters towards him babbling, Smoog listens to her entertaining yet extremely intoxicated recap of his explanation.
Suddenly, as she punctuates her argument with her dagger (nearly puncturing him in the process), the blue of his scales snaps to a brilliant frosty white.
A protective layer of scales erupts from his body, using up the last of the latent dragon-gift ice magic he had forgotten was still lingering in his system.
Smoog then looks at Thunk, eyes wide, and bursts out laughing until tears and hiccups cause him to choke a little.
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scout
Hegh watches Sees' antics with resignation.
She is broken.
No. You see so little, Bloodguard.
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Retzack pauses and digs into his armpits. He pulls out a fat, completely white bug, and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly, for almost a full minute before his throat bobs in swallowing. Three times he does this, almost out of habit.
If he were surrounded by enlightened goblins, he might bother explaining his actions, but these folk look like they might desecrate their bodies with bathing, so knowledge of science would be beyond them.
The bugs, a family of Albineous Mundus, protect themselves with a fat layer of a naturally produced antibiotic, known by some as "light water" or hydrogen peroxide. The bugs, if chewed well, kill the bacteria that can build up in the mouth, and keep the teeth clean.
He may be dirty and eat bugs, but his teeth are mother-of-pearl white, and his breath is minty fresh.
Krish watches the armpit-bug-eating goblin trying to keep the distaste out of his expression. He seems to be praying silently, By first spirits, what nasty creature eat bugs from armpits? And what spirit me offend for be in dungeon cell with it? Me very sorry, great ones, for offense me gived. Sacrifices me make and totems me carve for make better sorry-saying soon me free one more.