Roger comes back to consciousness with a cough after Majara pours her elixir down his throat. It’s only momentary, however, as the clinging flames flare briefly one last time before finally extinguishing with a dramatic crackle and hiss. Roger murmurs something that sounds a lot like ”me parrot” before laying still once more, a slightly uncanny smile on his face.
With the goblin wizard less a corpse than a scarred black mark on the ground, the last goblin realises that its position is pretty precarious. It pulls a small flask of glistening blue liquid from its belt and quickly gulps down the contents before making for the cave entrance.
Majara mutters a curse when the potion helps... only for Roger to get burnt back into unconsciousness. "Nezhjbellranz," she says, darkly, which is a very foul Gnomish curse.
Debating between goblin and pirate, she decides to try and curtail the goblin's flight. She dashes after, snatching a bomb, then hurls it at the flee-er.
As the goblin slips by, Emma does her best to strike out at it, before turning to give chase as best as she's able - hoping that others will be able to strike at it before it can get too far.
"Oh no you don't!" Emma growls as she charges after the goblin. She's sweating and breathing hard from exertion, but she manages to catch up to the goblin and strikes out with Redemption, hoping that she manages to get in a solid hit for once.
Hawk stumble-chases after Emma and the fleeing goblin. His magical options to slow the gobbo down were limited, as the little blighter was impressively agile. And he was just as likely to impede his allies in their pursuit. He’d gotten lucky with that last spell but luck doesn’t last.
It isn’t the most creative option but there was no rogue alive that could dodge force bolts – so he sends three of them streaking around Emma to hammer her quarry.
2nd Spells (4): xxx
1st Spells (7): xxxxx xx - OUT
Dancing Lights (3):
Effects:
Mage Armor = +4 AC/FF for 4 hrs
The goblin’s dash to escape takes Emma by surprise as he darts for the safety of the cave. Majara is quicker to react, hurling an explosive at him before Emma, in hot pursuit, swings Redemption into his legs. He staggers, just about maintaining his balance before a trio of magical projectiles from Hawk hammer into his back. This time he does fall and shows no signs of getting up again.
After the noise and chaos of the rolling battle, the silence that suddenly greets you as you realise it is over is a touch eerie. Looking around you there are dozens of goblin corpses, plus those of the dogs, strewn everywhere. Whatever the Scorchfeathers threw at you here - and it was a lot - you were more than equal to it and have dealt the tribe a significant blow.
Unsteady on his feet, Hawk sits down heavily. He keeps one eye on the goblin's cave, just in case. Not that he could do much. He is literally down to the last dregs of magical energy.
As the adrenaline ebbs from his system and he begins to feel his wounds more keenly, he takes stock of his performance... especially his weakness at dealing with or avoiding physical confrontations. It was enough to make him rethink that offer from the monastery.
2nd Spells (4): xxx
1st Spells (7): xxxxx xx - OUT
Dancing Lights (3):
Effects:
Mage Armor = +4 AC/FF for 4 hrs
"Well."
Majara heaves a deep breath as she looks around. They underestimated those goblins, it seems. Casters, multiple, is unusual in her experience of goblinkind.
"If you're not hurt, keep up a watch on that cave mouth. I'll come around with that wand of ours and get people sorted."
She goes for poor Roger first, feeling a slight pang of guilt that it was her suggestion that wound up with him solo and nearly killed.
It takes her some time to get the pirate back into fighting shape, though he is conscious after the first tap from the stick. Hawk, fortunately, needs nowhere near as many stick pokes to look rather less like on he's death's doorstep. Two quick taps heals her own injuries more or less, and then Majara looks to Nerissia and Emma.
"How badly are the two of you? And Alocer?"
While Majara diligently employs the group's healing wand to tend everyone's wounds, combing the battlefield for treasure brings you a number of rewards,
The majority of the goblins have little that is salvageable. Their gear isn’t of the highest quality and in the mass rabble they had formed, much of it has been damaged or broken. Still, you can find a dozen daggers and half that number of spears which could likely be sold. Their other weapons seemed to be clubs or more makeshift items - bottles attached to sticks, nails through bits of wood and the like. Ignoring the broken and cracked ones, you can also round up a number of shields in reasonable condition
The three archers, including the one you pursued back to the Scorchfeathers’ lair, are better armed, presumably in accordance with their higher rank or skill or whatever it is that goblins judge such matters on. Each has a suit of chainmail and a decently made blade and bow. Sadly they appear to have used up all of their flaming arrows during the battle.
The wizard’s body is wrapped in a thick leather cloak that was charred and blackened around the edges even before Hawk blasted it. There is a strong smell of soot coming from it. There are also a couple of vibrantly coloured potions belted next to her spell component pouch.
Finally, the last goblin gives up a beautifully-crafted scimitar and a lightweight chain shirt, as well as a potion. More interestingly, he bears a crown of red feathers on his brow - perhaps a signifier of leadership? - and wears a scorchmarked wooden ring. Perhaps most interesting of all though is the rod. It’s a couple of feet in length and curves slightly, resembling an unstrung bow. Jet black in colour it is inlaid with silver script that you are able to identify as Abyssal.
The sorcerer offers his thanks after the healing and gets up, making himself useful trying to identify the magic items.
Nerissia doesn't even give the fallen goblins a second look, letting the rest of the group handle their bodies. "Disgusting creatures." she says under her breath, passing by the group and posting a defensive stance looking towards the cave entrance.
"We are fine, but I can't speak for anyone but us two." she says, nocking another arrow to her bow string and ordering Alocer to stand guard. "I'll keep watch while you bring them back to." she continues simply, her eyes watchful for anyone (or anything) approaching.
"Ooogh- This morning's getting far too familiar. Thanks, Majara." Roger blearily blinks as he makes his way back to the land of conscious. He stays down for the good minute it takes for his wounds to be healed.
The gnome offers a thin smile down at the pirate, sympathy for his burns even if they are now healed. "Yes, well. Perhaps you were wise to advocate against the pincer approach."
Majara nods at Nerissia's pragmatic words, and saves her and the fox's healing for last, coming around to the two of them only once everyone else is conscious and more-or-less fine.
"Tougher fight than I'd credit goblins for, generally. Ah, what's that you've got there, Hawk?"
Tucking the wand away, Majara moves to look at the shinies. "This rod. Could that be the family heirloom, the Hellfire rod we're seeking?"
Majara loses interest in the rod when she notices bottles with liquid in them! Her favorite things. She rifles through the potions with interest.
Perhaps it’s the exertions of battle but Hawk is unable to figure out much with regards to the items radiating magical auras. The faintest of these comes from the ring, which he determines can be used to magically start fires - entirely in keeping with what you’ve come to understand if the Scorchfeathers.
Majara’s perusal of the potions allows her to determine that the goblin leader had an elixir of tumbling and she also identifies a potion of cure moderate wounds on the wizard. The wizard’s other flask contains a shimmering silver-grey solution that she is unsure of and will require further tests.
Although he is unsure of exactly what it does - though Roger can vouch for the efficacy of its fire magic - Hawk gives the rod a careful study before passing it over to Nerissia in the hope that she can read the Infernal script that has been engraved on it. Alocer keeps close watch on the cave entrance while she does so but there’s no sign of movement or sound from within.
Roger after being healed gets back up, retrieves his weapons, and looks over Nerissia's shoulder. "Well, think that might be it? Rods that shoot fire can't be that common, can they?"
Roger thinks about that for a moment. "Actually- pretty popular kinda magic now that I think about it. Probably best to be sure."
"I do love fire-shooting rods." Nerissia say. "Two words: "Hellfire" and "Avo". First word is obvious, second seems to be a name maybe? Or an activation keyword, which I may have just said...oops." she says, hoping the rod doesn't explode in her hands.
After taking a look at the rod she gives the other items a look over, even though she isn't very knowledgeable in these matters.
Fortunately, even if the word inscribed on what it is now reasonable to assume is the Hellfire Rod is a command word, when Nerissia utters it, nothing happens. Further study is still needed to work out exactly what the device is and what it can do. The tiefling then turns her attention to the other items. She is in tune with the feathered headwear and is able to discern its properties, proclaiming it to be the Scorchfeathers Crown. This item, perhaps along with the rod, denotes the wearer as the tribe’s chief.
"Well- Think we should venture into their den? If we want to be sure, might take a look round."
"I believe we've found the Hellfire rod, then," Majara says a bit drily. "Perhaps we'll be able to tell what the others are in time as well."
Despite how close the fight had come to disaster, Majara is back in good spirits quickly enough. Gnomes are resilient people. "I think that's best, yes, Roger. We don't want survivors troubling Umok. Everyone ready?"
Hawk seems game, now that he is healed."Certainly! I have some harsh words for any other goblins we run into."
"Certainly! I have some harsh words for any other goblins we run into."
With your wounds - some of them on the more serious end of the spectrum - mended and any injured pride soothed, you prepare to head into the cave. Alert to the potential dangers within, you strain your ears for the sounds of activity within. Most unusually for anything concerning goblins, there is absolute silence from within, a highly irregular turn of events for a volatile people, especially considering the circumstances of the battle outside.
You do, however, notice that just to the left of the entrance is another, smaller, passage into the cave that has been overgrown with vines, creepers and other plants. Whether this was a deliberate action on the part of the Scorchfeathers or simply growth they have allowed to happen without burning it away is impossible to tell.
What becomes readily apparent as you enter is that the two entrances quickly converge and join together into the same passage leading further in. After a slight bend it opens out into a roughly circular chamber about 50 feet across. It's a messy sort of place and it takes you a second to realise that there are no goblins currently within - this is simply how the little blighters live. A rough table and half a dozen chairs, some overturned, lie off to one side. Several plates of half eaten food and cups with varying amounts of liquid sit on the table, suggesting they were abandoned in a hurry. What appear to be crude weapon racks, with a variety of well crafted, badly made and makeshift items line two of the walls. Debris and clutter - bones, utensils and the like are scattered around. Two exits lead from the cave, both sloping slightly downward.
Hawk uses a minor magical trick to cause an object to glow brightly.
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Lit by a bright parrot in his hat and protected by a gnome's potion, Roger leads the way with weapon in hand and searches for treasure, buried or otherwise.
"What in the Hells is going on here?" she says, cursing under her breath. "I despise goblins, nasty little things."
Majara took a minute before they went in to mix a few powder satchets into a bottle which she handed off to Roger before they entered...
Inside, she wrinkles her nose at the strong smells of a goblin lair. "Lovely. Perhaps the rest of them fled at the signs of combat. If so, we took long enough patching ourselves up they could be some distance away from here by now, and they know the undergrowth here better than we. Let's take whatever's valuable, at the least."
She wanders to the weapons rack to consider the best of what's left, while keeping an eye and ear out just in case the goblins have left nasty surprises like traps.
Majara’s perusal of the weapon racks turns up a few handy-looking weapons. A light mace, a shortspear, two short swords and a longsword all look worth the taking. All, of course, are Majara - or, more to the point, goblin - sized. She doesn’t turn up anything that requires more attention; with this it seems you have seen all this particular room has to offer.
"Looks clear? Into the next room I suppose." After they've searched their current room, Roger leads to another chosen on a whim.
Choosing the left-hand exit from the room, Roger can see from the light on his parrot that it's a large cavern and about half of it is filled with water. In the silence of another deserted room, he can hear the gentle sound of droplets finding their way into the pool, running down the high cracked wall on the far side. In the reflected light the water appears dark but clear.
Embers from two large fires let off a glow and there is a lingering smell of smoke and meat that suggests they were put out recently. Closer examination shows a number of wrapped parcels cooking gently on the remnants of the fire. A mishmash of utensils, pans and other cooking equipment further suggests that this room was regularly used for cooking.
Another two exits lead off from the cavern.
"They were wrapping and smoking their meats? I pray we've not ended the life of the finest goblin chef ever to live. Not a high bar, but still, a loss."
Hawk can't resist snooping toward the other exit to get a quick peek at what was around the bend.
Roger prods at some of the food packages - there are indeed smoked meats, though exactly what they may have been when alive is not immediately obvious in most cases. Some clearly are fish and others contain root vegetables, perhaps safer options for those whose culinary tastes aren't as adventurous as either goblins or the good folk of Ravenmoor.
Poking around the chaos of the stores reveals numerous jars of pickled things, a barrel with an unmistakeable whiff that the pirate immediately identifies as containing grog, and a sturdy wooden box of gnomish make that holds a dozen small jars of herbs, spices and other seasonings to increase the flavour or potency of food.
Meanwhile, as Hawk peers into the darkness of the other exit, he comes to a set of natural steps that steeply drop several feet. The room he can see has a central pillar formed out of the rock running from floor to ceiling, along with several other exits from the chamber.
The column in the middle of the room has been engraved with numerous crude drawings. Many of them obviously depict goblins in various of their favourite activities - eating, killing, setting things on fire - but there are also a handful of representations of some kind of winged insect with a skull pattern on its back.
I pray we've not ended the life of the finest goblin chef ever to live.
"I'll offer a prayer up, hoping that we have." she says simply, before pressing forward.
Roger prods at some of the food packages
"Yeah, unless you were literally about to die from starvation, I wouldn't eat any of that. Can't trust them, you know." she advises, before leaving Roger to it and joining Hawk on the other more interesting exit.
Turns out that Nerissia isn't the most knowledgeable when it comes to other religions. Most of her religious teachings were aimed at identifying enemies, not necessarily their icons.
"Strange place, this. I don't really want to think what they've been getting up to here, besides the obvious." she wonders aloud.
Hawk nods in agreement with Nerissia’s observation. He casts a spell and points at each of his allies. Rather than speaking aloud, his whispered voice sounds in their ears. ”This ‘room’ has three exits – four with the one Roger is approaching… and there is some strange religious iconography.”
Curiosity getting the better of him, Hawk advances cautiously with an eye to the other exits.
"Oh no danger of that." Roger shakes his head incredulously at the thought of eating the goblin meats. "Still though, it's just unexpected, what like if you found them trying to forge a proper blade instead of those horsechoppers or stolen gear."
Majara is rather charmed by the spice box and spends a few moments in opening its little containers and admiring the workmanship before she realizes the others are moving on. She quickly stows it and trots after the others, frowning at the pillar.
"Yes, let's definitely not try their cookery-- it appears there may have been some worship of Urgathoa here, along with all the regular evil goblins get up to," the gnome tsks, tapping a finger against the moth on the pillar.... then pausing momentarily to note her own moth tattoo on the tapping hand. Ha, irony.
"Don't get too far behind us, Miss Blackford," Majara calls over her shoulder to the paladin, wandering through the chamber with Hawkren and Nerissia and heading vaguely north. She doesn't seem to be attempting any stealth, in contrast with Hawkren's legitimate concerns of being overheard and his use of magic to avoid it.
Roger dips a bit further into the room he's next to, holding up his hat to check and make sure nothing's lurking in a dark corner, but staying where he'd be visible from the other chamber most of the others have entered.
"...it appears there may have been some worship of Urgathoa here, along with all the regular evil goblins get up to,"
Hawk looks over the art with a semi-professional eye, comparing style and quality. "Perhaps. Or this cave was used by an Urgathoa worshipper at some point... before the present occupants."
Hawk's magically augmented voice sounds tinny in Roger's ears. "I'm gonna try this eastern passage, it might meet up with the one in your room." He moves forward watchfully.
"Don't get too far behind us, Miss Blackford," Majara calls over her shoulder.
Emma rolls her eyes in the gloom, using the light from her sword to see where she's heading. "I'm coming," she calls after the gnome, though whether or not her voice can be heard over the clanking of her armor remains to be seen.
Every now and then, she glances over her shoulder, just to make sure no one is creeping up behind them. Though, she must admit, her ability to spot such things isn't the greatest - at least if something does creep up, they'd attack her rather than someone else. She'd leave the scouting ahead to those who were more capable of doing so.
While Hawk magically alerts Roger to his intention, the pirate manoeuvres himself to see into the other room from the 'kitchen'. Hawk then chooses an exit to the pillar chamber and cautiously peers into the next room. What both of you can see - and what Hawk can very much smell - is the bedlam that is goblin sleeping arrangements.
A chaos of tattered blankets, torn mats, broken pallets, straw and more is at least devoid of visible occupants, though it takes you a second to register that given the absolute state of the place. Numerous stains, some obviously blood, others secretions you're probably happier not asking too many questions of, are scattered about. Personal possessions, gnawed bones and the gods only know what else are merrily strewn throughout. Clearly the little buggers are happy to sleep in close quarters so it's hard to know how many may share this space. Hawk's nose tells him that it's not a small number though.
When Hawk isn't immediately attacked, Majara tags after him. She wrinkles her nose at the smells.
"That is foul, and I say that as an alchemist. I don't know if we can endure doing a thorough search in there."
Hawk literally turns his head at the smell, "Gah! It stinks like a cross between a slaughter house floor in summer and a dockside brothel at low tide."
He carefully navigates around and over the detritus, moving toward the center of the room to see if there is another exit to the north and anything of obvious value on the floor... hopefully without having to touch anything.
"Aye, meet you in the middle-" Roger peers around the corner.
As Roger and Hawk head further into the detritus from their respective directions, they do indeed meet in the middle. The tattoo artist's scan for treasure sees a number of things that goblins may value - a mummified rat with a nail through the skull, a necklace made of copper piping, a fan of charred magpie feathers - but little that he would want to take with him. Sadly, a real treasure hunt probably requires getting his hands dirty.
Majara trails after the bigfolk, one hand holding her nose shut and the other turning over bits of the mess as she looks for anything worth salvaging.
"....well," she says laconically, holding up the results of her hunt with a bit of disdain. She puts the valuables onto a stray piece of only moderately-dirty cloth to bundle it up. Then wipes her hand off on the cavern wall.
After some dirty work with little reward save on Majara's end, Roger head to the next passage in the caves yet to be searched and heads there.
Hawk looks at the 'windfall' Majara uncovered. He tries to spin it into a positive, "I appreciate your diligence..." then he quickly moves to inspect the parallel passage to Roger's.
As she commented, Majara is not usually one afraid to get her hands dirty, but combing through the goblins’ sleeping quarters is not a pleasant task. Still, she does come up with some valuables that a gnome as well as a goblin would appreciate. Wiping her hands on the cave wall helps but it would probably take a bath of the quality of the Sarinis’ to make her feel properly clean again.
With the messy business out of the way, Roger leads the way and peers down the next passageway. This one slopes down again before bending round again to the right beyond his line of sight. Just before it curves away, four pinpricks of red light stare back at the pirate and he can make out the shape of two skeletal figures in the dark.
At the same time, Hawk peers down the other unexplored route from the nexus and this one looks to lead to more private quarters, at least as far as such things might go among the Scorchfeathers. There are various nooks and alcoves and a firepit in the centre. It would be a stretch to describe it as plush but there is a real bed in one of the alcoves - human-sized, so huge for a goblin - as well as some other ramshackle furniture and crates. Water-filled vessels on the floor and a pile of dirty cloth and torn pillows suggest that the dogs may have also slept in one of the other parts of this area. Whoever usually occupies it, they are not here at present.