GM Halftime |
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You are goblins of the Licktoad tribe, who live deep in Brinestump
Marsh, south of the hated man-town called Sandpoint. Once,
other goblins tried to burn Sandpoint down, and they would
have been legends if they had succeeded. But they didn’t bring
enough fire, and got themselves killed as a result.
Yesterday, your tribe discovered that one of your own had
been using forbidden arts and was engaged in one of the
greatest of taboos—writing things down. In fact, rumor holds
that what he was writing was a history of your tribe! There’s no
swifter way to bring about bad luck than stealing words out of
your mind by writing them down, and so your tribe had no
choice. You branded the goblin’s face with letters to punish
him, which is why everyone calls him Scribbleface now, and
then you ran him out of town, took all of his stuff, and burned down his hut.
That’s where things got interesting, because before you all
burned down his hut, Chief Gutwad found a weird box within
the building. Inside was a map and a lot of fireworks—fireworks
that immediately came to use in burning the hut down. Then,
this morning, Gutwad announced that tonight there would
be a feast in order to drive out any lingering bad luck from
Scribbleface’s poor decisions. But perhaps even more exciting,
all of you have been secretly invited to meet at Chief Gutwad’s
Moot House. Why would the chief want to speak to you? It can only mean that he’s got an important mission for you all...
one that the other goblins of the tribe couldn’t pull off. This could be your chance to go down in Licktoad history!
You all wait outside the Moot House, a grand (for a goblin hut) home made of mud and straw. Feel free to roleplay, as you won't be invited in for a few minutes.
Grubmunch Big Ears |
Picking some vermin from his oversized ears the scarred little sadist looks at the rest. Popping it into his mouth he starts chewing as he says, "Grubmunch thinks chief sending me after Scribbleface to teach him another lesson. Sending you to see him squirm."
Marp Flame Breath |
Sitting on the ground before the hut, Marp snaps his fingers repeatedly, causing sparks to jump from the tips of his long, dirty fingernails. "Chief must have more fire toys for me to light," he cackles delightedly
Plerumque |
As Croak sits, a rag doll with a grin made out of stitches clambers up his shoulder and pulls itself up to Croak's head with the aid of one large ear. Croak listens intently to the doll, who remains silent, then announces, "Toad says Chief want us to make more friends. Make them dead and make them friends."
GM Halftime |
From the house you hear a high-pitched voice call for you to enter. You recognize it as the voice of Slorb, the Chief's assistant. Better get moving!
Slorb is a pompous, over dressed goblin who the tribe only tolerates because of his position. Slorb is the only goblin who can hear the Chief's mighty voice without fainting in terror, and doesn't let anyone forget it.
GM Halftime |
Inside are the corpses of dozens of fulffy animals, pickled in brine and displayed everywhere. In the middle of the room sits Chief Gutwad atop his six foot high Teeter Chair. Slorb clears his throat to say something, but, to everyone's shock, Gutwad speaks out in a deep, booming voice.
Shut you faces! This not why I called you here. You all be heroes. Each of you. You are best Licktoads but for me. And maybe but for Slorb. That you aren’t fleeing in terror from mighty sound of my voice is all the proof you should need. Yet soon, all Licktoad goblins will know your might, for I have picked you for a dangerous mission.
You know about fireworks and map we found in Scribbleface’s hut. Fireworks were fun. But map is more fun. It shows a route to a place near the coast where Scribbleface found fireworks. And it says there are more fireworks there!
I want them for Licktoads. You all go get them tomorrow. Tonight we have big bonfire to burn bad luck away from you, and we play many games. Much fun. Tomorrow you fetch me fireworks. If you meet men, you make them dead. If you meet dogs, you make them dead. If you meet horses, you make them dead. If you meet Lotslegs Eat Goblin Babies Many, you maybe should run. And if you not find fireworks, you not come back or we feed you to Squealy Nord! What say you?
Slorb just stands there in shock, unable to comprehend the fact that your brains are still intact from the Chief's words.
Sir Tarki of Boghole |
"No we not burn the fireworks, we bring back to chief!" Tarki seems to be adressing no one in particular; "Yes we kill dogs! We always kill dogs! We even kill dogs after dog kill you!" he appears to be having a conversation with someone not in the room.
"No you stupid! No you!",
After a few more moments of a heated, one-sided argument, he turns to Gutwad, "Yes me and Crabbi think good idea."
Croak Bone-Friend |
The rag doll perched on Croak's head leans down to him, and Croak listens for a few moment, nodding and muttering agreement. "Toad says will be good. Lots of new friends to make. Don't worry- have great-great-great-great-grandmother's bow make dogs and horses dead. At least, think it work on horses. Never actually try. Will try for you, Chief."
GM Halftime |
Good. Slorb give you map. Now get out of Moot House! No more time for you! With that, the chief mutters into Slorb's ear, and Slorb ushers you all outside. He dumps the map onto the ground in front of you, and speaks. You no get big heads! I could do quest much much better. Only grace of His Girthiness make you heroes. Slorb walks off, muttering obscenities and kicking the dirt.
You have options here. Either you could ask around for a little extra info about the swamp, or we could skip to the bonfire. The extra info isn't anything special, but it couldn't hurt.
Sir Tarki of Boghole |
"You heard chief, I boss now!" Tarki claims as he picks up the map. He looks to the side with a sudden expression of indignance. "No, I boss, you be loot-tendant! Can hold map if you want... NO YOU NOT BOSS, YOU NOT EVEN ALIVE!"
Tyler Beck |
Gretcha goes around to a few key gobbos in the tribe, trying to learn as much as she can about the swamp before they go there.
Gather Info: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
She's not terribly convincing, mostly running around the town screaming "YOU! TELL ME THINGS ABOUT SWAMP! YOU BEEN THERE? NO! THEN KISS FEET!"
GM Halftime |
Even though her techniques are...less than subtle, they manage to get lots of information out of the frightened goblins.
1. Brinestump marsh has lots of tasty things to eat, and a few less tasty things filled with poison. You should be able to eat most things you come across.
2. The longshanks don't like the swamp, so you won't find many.
3. There are lots of giant bugs in the swamp. Some are tasty, but a lot of them are big enough to eat a goblin.
4. A giant spider known as Lotslegs Eats Goblin Babies Many lives somewhere between the village and the coast.
5. The cannibal goblin Vorka lives in the swamp. Goblins that go missing are presumed eaten by her until proven otherwise.
GM Halftime |
Grubmuch's interrogation of his neighbors turns up all the information Gretcha got, plus the following.
1. Lotlegs used to snatch its meals out of the baby cages, but has gotten to the size where it can easily overpower and eat a full-grow goblin if given the chance.
2. The map you have? It basically says to follow a creek and cut right through the middle of Lotsleg's territory.
3. The cannibal goblin Vorka is basically the Licktoad's bogeyman. She was once the wife of a Licktoad chieftain, until she killed and ate him. She managed to kill and eat several goblins before the was run out of town. Legend tells she still lives to the west of the village, and picks off goblins lost in the swamp.
That's about it for additional information. Shall we skip to the bonfire?
Croak Bone-Friend |
"Ah-h-h, make Gretcha's mother friend?" Croak taps the side of his nose sagely. "Sounds like lovely goblin. More friends never bad. Right, Toad?" The rag doll perched precariously on his head nods.
GM Halftime |
The day goes on, and by nightfall the preparations are complete. A huge bonfire rages in the center of the village, set up by the most heroic fire-starters with the remains of Scribbleface's firework stash. The chief, sitting on his Teeter Chair carried by complaining goblins, comes out of his hut bearing huge barrels of the finest goblin booze (half-fermented apples). The feast is brought out, an array of slugs, spiders, frogs, and snakes. It is officially party time!
If you partake in the apples, make a DC 8 Fort save or be sickened for 24 hours.
Tyler Beck |
"Gretcha not afraid of any apples. Bring them on, chief!"
Fort: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Gretcha has several of the apples, gets nice and goblin-drunk, and begins screaming at everyone to kiss her feet. She might even get herself in a bit of trouble by casting murderous command on a pair of goblins and watching them attempt to kill each other until they come to their senses... and then probably try to kill each other anyway. They're goblins, after all!
GM Halftime |
Goblin #1 Will: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4
Goblin #2 Will: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Attack rolls -2 due to the alchohol
Goblin #1 Attack Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 19
Goblin #2 Attack Roll: 1d20 ⇒ 10
Goblin #1 Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
Two inebriated goblins start awkwardly flailing their dogslicers at each other. One of them manages to give the other a cool new torso scar before they both pass out and fall in the apple barrel.
Marp Flame Breath |
Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
"Ah! I starving! Give me apples," Marp yells. He devours half a dozen apples in two minutes, finishing with a content belch. He then takes three apples and stuffs them into his backpack.
Sir Tarki of Boghole |
Tarki rushes top the buffet, just before he can stuff a big handful of critters into his gob he stops, [b]"OKAY! If you stop nagging!"[b], he clenches his eyes shut in concentration until the translucent blue formof another goblin looking remarkably similar to him starts taking shape next to him.
Zethaya |
The goblin and his ghostly twin start shovelling the grub into their mouths, although it seems the blueish goblin seems to throw most of his food past his mouth. Or perhaps it's just passing right through him.
Croak Bone-Friend |
Croak reclines a few feet from the revels and commands Toad to enter the fray and retrieve apples. The rag doll returns several times, struggling under a load hard-won from the other goblins.
Fortitude: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Nice and tipsy, Croak raises a pair of skeletons from the earth, gives them both fancy hats he acquired in the last raid on the longshanks, and commands them to dance. He waves sadly as they crumble after a minute, then offers the fancy hats to whoever can eat the most apples.
GM Halftime |
The festivities go on. Eventually, a voice pipes up form the crowd. Hey! From the crowd stumbles a very drunk Chuffy Lickwounds, Official Head Firestarter Guy of the tribe. You call youselves heroes? Ha! You wimps. I bet you couldn't handle Squealy Nord! The other goblins snicker. I have dare! You dance with Squealy Nord, and I call you hero. Maybe.
The muttering and snickering if the crowd becomes a low chant that slowly grows. Dance with Nord! Dance with Nord! From the crowd come Chief Gutwad and Slorb. Slorb announces to the tribe, Chief think this good idea. He say if you do dare, he give you thing to help with quest tomorrow.
The dare, should you choose to attempt it, is to stay on the back of Squealy Nord for 18 seconds. You must succeed at 3 successive DC 15 Ride checks to complete it. If you fail any of the checks, you must make a DC 10 reflex save to avoid taking 1d3 points of damage. Remember that goblins get +4 to Ride! Success will get you a reward from the chief himself.
Squealy Nord is a young piglet that escaped from a nearby farm, and is currently kept in a pit in the center of the village. Nord terrifies the goblins, because he isn't against eating their dead.
Sir Tarki of Boghole |
Tarki laughs, he grabs the pig by the ears and swings himself onto the its back.
Ride: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Ride: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
Ride: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Reflex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Although it seems at first he can master the creature it soon kicks him off and he lands gracelessly in the mud.
damage: 1d3 ⇒ 2
Croak Bone-Friend |
Croak narrows his eyes. He'd been mocked as a child for his ineptitude at riding animals, and now those same tormentors were there, hoping to laugh at his failure. Well, he'd show them, he thought. He snatches a hat back from one of the smaller goblins and leaps on Squealy Nord's back, waving the hat like a cowboy.
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Reflex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Damage: 1d3 ⇒ 2
In a matter of seconds, Croak is bucked from the piglet's back, landing with a heavy thump. He lies there in the mud for a few moments, seething in his own fury, and then stands up and forces a smile. "Very fun. Squealy Nord know foxtrot."
GM Halftime |
Yeah, that save was amazing. :)
The gathered goblins cackle manically at Gretcha's fear and Croak and Tarki's failure, and start pelting them with apples and mud. From the crowd, Chuffy calls out, Ha! You not heroes! You stupid wimps!, before passing out from one too many apples.
Grubmunch still hasn't tried, and Gretcha can still redeem herself if she pulls it off.
Tyler Beck |
"Fine! I show you all!"
Gretcha runs back to Squealy, jumps onto his back, and tries her best to hold on. Unfortunately I don't get the +4 to Ride because I traded out that racial feature... lol
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Gretcha holds on surprisingly well for a few seconds, and it's starting to look like she's going to make it, but then Squealy gets wise and digs in his heels for a dead stop, throwing Gretcha into the fence. OW!