Gren returns, shaking his head, "the creature escaped too swiftly - I couldn't follow. It may have had woodland stride or some other ability. But it left an easy-to-follow trail. Shall we go after them?"
Dommer turns to return to the caves.
I say we go back and fortify. Sending a full group doesn't sound wise at the moment... Sounds more like a trap or an attempt to get all of us out of the caves, as much as I'd like to capture one of them to be interviewed. Maybe after we get back and reconvene, we can send a scout or two to follow the trail not to capture that enemy, but to track where their army is positioned.
Gren returns, shaking his head, "the creature escaped too swiftly - I couldn't follow. It may have had woodland stride or some other ability. But it left an easy-to-follow trail. Shall we go after them?"
Gren is obviously interested in chasing their foe with some help. He looks at the corpses, and nods, "hobgoblins - to be expected." He has a look of disgust on his face.
Grenwold nods solemnly, "right - though if I go out again, I'll go with as much stealth as I can muster. I don't want to get ambushed again."
The group returns to the cave, bloody and battered, but all in one piece.
"So, what happened? how come you're all bloody!! BY THE POWER OF CAYDEN, MAKE THEM ALL IN SHAPE FOR DRINKING!"
Aubrin raises her tin tankard twice, as if making a toast, and you all feel better...
"There... that should take care of anything serious. Speak! what happened?!"
"Aubrin, do you have more of that? I am still in pain."
Grenwold slips into a chair quietly. "We were ambushed by hobgoblin commandos. We managed to defeat them, despite the pit trap and Ringo's near death, but one slipped away." He says this bluntly and without expression, as if he is disappointed in himself. "However, I can follow their trail if we'd all like to follow them again." He sips from a drink of water and stares at the cup.
"Pit trap? is that nearby? if they had the time to dig a pit trap that means they've tracked your comings and goings for at least a day or two... and they already know where we live! Were there any survivors?"
"Aubrin! if they know where we live, we need to setup a serious watch tonight! not just our usual casual lookouts and overall reliance on the shriekers... I'll start a batch of mushroom soup. Dyna, Marduk: can you get me a large bucket of fresh goat milk?"
Rhyna sees everyone activate themselves and raises a hand, "You all know your numbers! even numbers here to the left... odd numbers to the right! I want all odd numbers to get their gear ready for night watches tonight, grab some food, and hit the hay right now!"
The camp activates themselves. Aubrin nods at Jet's remark, and stands with you, looking at the refugees with pride. While awaiting your response about hobgoblin survivors, she adds "Oh, and what are you guys planning? are you gonna help stand with the night watch tonight or focus on tracking tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, they must have a group close by. . . it is certainly troubling to have danger so near. If we can return with numbers in the morning I think that may be the best course of action- that's my suggestion at least."
"They what!?" Herman spits through clenched jaws. "They ambushed you with a pit!? Have you been patrolling with your eyes closed to have missed something so obvious? Were you off knitting flower crowns and singing to the songbirds too?" He throws his hands up in frustration. "Don't bother waiting until morning - goblins can see just fine in the dark, and they know we can't. They'll be back as soon as they've rounded up the rest of their friends to slaughter us all." The witch catches Aubrin's glare and returns it with his own.
"I think our scouts here have done a good job... killed four out of five from what I gather. Here Herman, have a beer and at least rejoice when there's reason for it. I don't think they'll be back tonight, as the sole survivor is still licking his wounds right? but we have to be ready! focus on that instead of trying to point fingers!"
She holds out a tankard full of cool, freshly tapped ale to Herman.
Grenwold shakes his head, ”Herman’s right. We should have been more careful. It was a clever ruse - they ambushed us with arrows first- the path to get to them was where the trap was.” he adds morosely. He holds his hands up, and mutters ”Sorry.”
Without waiting for a response, he gets up and takes first watch with Ringo.
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The night is uneventful. Jet's cooking fires manage to wake up those of you still sleeping. Aubrin shares a morning ale with anyone willing to forego coffee, and inquires about your plans.
"Are you boys planning to look for that hobgob today? wounded as he was he probably had to stop and rest at some point. I'd be curious to know if they're holed up somewhere close if they came looking here all the way from Phaendar..."
Still deflated, Grenwold says quietly ”I will follow the others as they require.”
”Pit traps. They had time to dig a pit trap.” Herman glowers at the other survivors over a cup of bitter leaf water that can barely be called “tea”. ”At least tell me you’re not going to just charge blindly at another obvious ambush.”
As Auburn speaks, the hermit nods enthusiastically. ”Track them down and finish the job before they can report our location to the rest of the invaders? You’re damn right we are.”
Aubrin slaps the gnome on the back, shoving a beer in his face.
"Don't be so glum, chum! you're our best tracker! and with Herman with you here, you'll find this fleeing bastard in no time I bet, or better, find out where they came from so we can take the fight to them! I'll pray that Cayden's luck is with you all today! ah! if my sight was still the way it used to be, I'd go with you boys today... unfortunately, as is, I'd be more of a liability to you all, and let's face it, the refugees here can use the blessings of Cayden. There's always something new on the schedule: hemorrhoids one day, a stubbed infected toe the next, or some previously unseen pustule on someone's back that's beginning to be noticed by smell by the others, and..."
Aubrin's long list of refugee ailments is interrupted by several partakers of breakfast who up and leave in disgust...
"Yes, better to find him now in the cold light of day than to let him return under cover of night. . ." Arthur muses as he cleans his armor and sharpens his blade, going through his morning routine.
Very well. Let's get ready to depart, then. - says the Dwarf, happy to wake up after some uneventful hours.
The heroes finish their preparations and head out for the trail of the fleeing hobgoblin they abandoned the previous night.
The gnome's expert tracking skills have no problem locating the trail, and within 30 min you come across the dead body of the hobgoblin, a dagger firmly planted in his heart. His trail stops here, and based on the position of the body, your surmise that he had sat down against a tree to take a break, and someone came to finish his days. The angle and force of the impact indicate that he couldn't have done it to himself...
Grenwold pokes around cautiously, ignoring Herman, ”careful. There may be another trap.” He points at the knife, ”an ally? Maybe another survivor?” Grenwold looks around for tracks to see where the stabber came from and went.
Arthur searches the area carefully, "Maybe another threat trying to silence him? I don't like it."
"I don't see anything here though."
Grenwold finds the following on the hobgoblin corpse:
Treasure: studded leather armor, light steel shield, longsword, longbow, 10 arrows, dagger (embedded in heart).
"I'm going to try to find their tracks!"
Dommer assists Luke, trying to find the tracks from whoever did it. It was a favor to them and the world, yet the scene was clearly left here with an intent, and he couldn't shake the feeling of a new trap, like Grenwold pointed out.
Grenwold looks around for more tracks.
As he goes, he tries to keep an eye out for traps like the pit trap.
”Great - now there’s two sets of folks who might now where we are.” Herman starts to spit, then stops in thought. ”His killer though - they left all his stuff. Hells, they even left their weapon in his corpse. Wasteful, unless the purpose was to leave a message.” Grumbling under his breath, the hermit tries to help the wild gnome find any clues as to this mysterious third party.
Grenwold finds a second, much lighter and hard to find trail. The boot print is of similar shape, but much smaller in size, perhaps made by a female. With the help of Vane Oreld - who now insists on being called 'Shaman Vale' since he officially took on the duties of an adventurer in the troglodyte caves a week ago - Grenwold has no problem following this new trail for the next few hours, despite the fact that whoever they are following is making constant active attempts at covering their tracks...
Towards the end of the day, about one hour before sunset and the need to make camp, Gren almost loses the trail, but he soon realizes they have come upon a fork in the trail: one set of tracks goes down from the ridgeline you've been traveling on, and the other set of tracks continue north on the same ridgeline. Both set of tracks are identical and have probably been made by the same person, or at least by someone of similar weight.
The one to the left appears older.
Grenwold says quietly to the party, "um, the rightmost one is fresher. I say we follow that one?" He says this as a question, to the others, as if he is uncertain. He especially looks to Herman, who he's seems to be trying to get the approval of.
"You think?" Herman replies sourly, though much of the acid is gone from his voice. Little feyling's got good eyes - I would have gotten lost back by that stream. "If whoever we're chasing is smart, they'll be constantly moving camp - so there's no point looking where they've been unless you particularly enjoy the sight of old campsites."