"What does that even mean?" Wherby asks, still coughing as he glares at Ximble. He slowly sits up, realizing that while he's almost certainly about to meet Pharasma, there aren't any psychopomps here yet to show him the way.
Unless ... is that what Tekmin is hearing. With a not very gentle shove from Ursividae, he decides not to wait to find out. "Yes!" he hisses. "Through the door now!"
Tekmin will be the last through the door, and peak out under the jamb if he can to see what follows them.
You quickly duck into the room beyond the secret door. This musty-smelling workshop features a long workbench covered with animal parts and a cluttered wooden shelf to the west, several barrels and crates to the south, and a ratty-looking pile of furs to the north. A wood carving of some sort of overly muscular goblin looms over the furs, while a lever sticks out of the eastern wall just below the carving.
A five-foot-long weasel lays in the corner of the room. It raises its head to regard you as you enter. Standing at a workbench is a goblin in studded leather armor with a belt filled with various alchemical items. Various animal parts on the workbench are partway through preservation: a giant bat’s head, a giant rat’s body and tail, several sizable spider legs, and two large scorpion pincers.
The goblin whistles through the holes drilled in his teeth. "Wow! Longhanks, in my workshop," he says. "Name's Tunch, master taxidermist! Maybe you can help take care of the evil witch that's been plaguing us Whistlefangs!"
Looking under the doorjamb, Tekmin can see the boots and legs of a goblin walking through the room you just left. After a few moments, he lets out a series of shrill whistles, then leaves the room.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Ah, hello Tunch! My name is Tekmin, and it's a pleasure to meet you," the halfling offers. "We were a bit worried that you would be some terrible monster! Can you tell us about the Whistlefangs and the witch? We are substitute adventurers, so we might be able to help you, as long as it's not too dangerous."
The weasel eyes Tekmin hungrily, but Tunch moves to scratch it under its chin. "Who's a good boy, Sausage? You are! You are! No eating the substitute adventurers, okay?" Sausage's tail twitches in delight and he settles back down.
Tunch turns back to you. "I've been working on trying to build a living taxidermy so that I can order it to kill the pesky witch! If some strange creature no goblin has ever seen before kills her, then certainly I can't be blamed for it—especially if I then swoop in to defeat said creature with a magic word! But I can't quite figure out how to do it. But now that I have you substitutes, I’m going to need you to do the dirty work for me!"
He takes a spare parchment and scribbles out a map of the rooms around this one. "The witch is named Minargul. She makes her lair here. You have to save us by killing her! Do so and I'll give you a magic bug as a reward. Oh yeah, all the other Whistlefangs you talk to here will sound like they like her, but she’s a mind controller. She’s got their names written on papers she keeps in her hat and she controls them that way. Save us!"
"Are the other goblins going to attack us, then?" Tekmin frowns. "I don't mind taking out a witch, but I don't want to hurt mind-controlled goblins."
"How do we know you're not the one being mind controlled, and they all like her because she's protecting them?" Wherby asks.
"The other goblins will probably attack. But they're not my friends," Tunch says to Tekmin. "More like co-workers? Goblins die all the time, that's why we're so good at making more goblins." He chuckles and shrugs. "Kill them or knock them out, it doesn't matter to me. Just kill the witch!"
He turns to Wherby and squints. "Me, mind-controlled? Ha! My mind is like a steel trap! No magic is getting in there!"
Unlike Tekmin, Ximble has no reservations when it comes to dealing with goblins. "I think we can do that. But eh, what does this witch look like? Like, what is the color of her hair, her eyes, mannerisms, anything you can think of might be helpful."
"She's a goblin, so she has no hair!" Tunch scoffs. "And her eyes are red, cause she's a goblin. Her mannerisms are, uh... gobliny? But she's a real stuck-up jerk! She claims her magic comes from the Devil and that makes her better than everybody! I wanted to make the Devil more scary and give it a second head, but she said that was blasphemy!" He rolls his eyes.
"Oh! Like, the Sandpoint Devil? I thought that was a myth," Tekmin says. "It sounds like she's lying to the goblins too. Maybe we can take her out and convince the other goblins to be productive workers like you are, Tunch."
Wherby sighs horribly. It sure seems like Tekmin and Ximble are bound and determined to go after this witch, and he's going to have to tag along to make sure they don't die. With his luck, she'll have lots of mosquitoes too.
Ximble's hands reach up to beg the gods for forgiveness. Of course the witch is a blasted goblin! "Fine. We'll simply have to tell every goblin we come across that your take on the Devil is the best. I mean, it isn't, but it will probably cause her to lose it."
"If we took the list of names from under her hat and then we had it, would she lose control of the other goblins? What is the fastest way to get to her?"
Herok considered how far they could trust Tunch, as well.
"Hmm? Yeah, probably!" Tunch answers Herok. "Go north from the main hall, through the throne room, then east and north to get to Minargul's chamber!"
Herok gets the sense that Tunch isn't being entirely truthful with you...
"I have a new spell that can help," Wherby finally says with a sigh. "As long as we all stay close together, no one should be able to see us."
Ximble is impressed by Wherby's command of magic. It's a shame that Ximble is invisible or else Wherby could see the admiration on the gnome's face. "Wow! You're getting better at this whole wizardry thing, Wherby. Color me impressed."
"I'm not a damn wizard! Those fools just go out looking for trouble! Why would anyone study just for the chance to be killed!"
Herok narrows his eyes at Tunch. "Tunch, is there something you maybe forgot to tell us? Such as something that may be between us and Minargul, or something else we should know about?"
"Hmm? Oh, are you talking about Ripnugget?" Tunch asks. He waves his hand dismissively. "That one's got everyone else scared, but not me! He can't burninate me, not as long as I stay hidden here!"
"Is he an ally of the witch? We're not just going to run through the tunnels killing every goblin we see!" Tekmin exclaims. "We're not some kind of marauders."
"Ripnugget showed up here a few weeks ago, and immediately burninated our old chieftain, Shrilltooth. Minargul immediately lead the other goblins in groveling to the bony bastard. Ripnugget started kicking all the walls in the lair until he found a hidden room behind Shrilltooth's throne. He went in there and told everybody not to disturb him. As far as I know, he's still in there."
Ripnugget. Herok remembered those days after the attack all those years ago, when Ripnugget's name was cursed as the leader of the Thistletop goblins. He was dead, though, or so Herok had thought. "When you say 'bony', what do you mean by that?"
The tale of Ripnugget excites Ximble. He wants to ask the stupid goblin a thousand questions but that would indicate that he, Ximble, a gnome, knows less than a goblin. Thankfully, Herok is asking the pertinent questions.
"I mean he's literally made of bones!" Tunch explains. "He's some sorta zombie or skelly. Glowing red eyes, clattering armor, flaming dogslicer. He's a real piece of work!"
So, Ripnugget was dead - and now he was undead. He wondered what kind. Obviously more than a typical skeleton or zombie. Perhaps a ghoul or ghast of some kind? No, that didn't seem right based on the description either. "Did your old chief, Shrilltooth, turn into any kind of undead creature after Ripnugget burninated him?"
"Undead fiery goblins? Sounds like a 'doom' to me!" Tekmin observes. "Maybe we should take care of him, too."
Wherby sighs heavily. They should be doing nothing of the sort. But he suspects he's not going to have much of a choice.
"How did he ... 'burninate' them? Did he touch them? Cast a spell? Throw something?"
"Nope, Shrilltooth just turned into a dead guy! Ripnugget left his body on the throne as a message to the rest of us. He just waved his dogslicer, and a blast of fire shot out like FWOOOSH!"
"Woah! I'm pretty flammable too. Or is it 'inflammable', Master Crick?" Tekmin says. "I can never keep those straight."
Well, at least Ripnugget wasn't creating more undead. If Ripnugget had been in the hidden room for a while, maybe he wouldn't pay attention if he heard any fighting. They could deal with Minargul then deal with Ripnugget, that way. "Thank you, Tunch, for your information."
With no further questions, Herok was ready to head out.
"You're definitely flammable, Tekmin!" Wherby grouses. "We all are! Hopefully we won't see this magical dogslicer, though."
Once the group is ready, he casts invisibility sphere. "Remember, stay close and stay quiet!"
Wherby casts his spell, and you all disappear from sight. You return to the entry hall and follow Tunch's map through the north door. The rough stone walls of this large room are decorated with a mix of bones, broken weapons, tattered tapestries, and bits of junk. To the north, a charred and very dead goblin sits slumped on a partially burned wooden throne. A cave opening to the west of the throne opens into darkness. Several bloody spears lean against the wall near this opening. A door is set in the east wall.
Six goblins mill about the room, five warriors and a war chanter, as well as a seventh goblin in leather armor with a longbow strapped to his back. All of them seem nervous and jittery, but they don't appear to notice your entry.
Tunch's map shows that the east door leads to Minargul. The secret door that Ripnugget went into should be somewhere behind the throne.
Hmm. A distraction...
Tekmin wiggles his fingers, pointing at the far side of the room, and a hazy vision of a burning skeleton seems to pop out of one wall and into another. Seconds later, there's an odd cracking and moaning sound.
Ximble follows Tekmin's lead and for now, stands by.
The goblins shriek in terror and flee from the illusory apparition, allowing you to easily slip through the door unnoticed. A short corridor leads into an unoccupied room full of filthy mounds of rags and straw. The air is filled with the stale stink of body odor. A clear path runs through the beds to another door.
A mound of rags and furs lies against the west wall of this room, while to the east is a low flat rock on which several animal bones and a human skull have been stacked to create a grisly incense burner. But it’s the north wall that commands attention, for here, a frightening shape made of bones, stretched hide and leather, and fibrous fungi looms. The shape resembles a great bat-winged horse with a mouth filled with fangs that seems to be emerging from the wall to loom over a blood-stained altar stone below.
The goblin witch Minargul kneels before the statue. Hearing the door open, she turns to look, a puzzled expression on her face when she doesn't see anybody. "Eh? Who's there?" she calls out in Goblin.
"It is the spirit of Shrilltooth!" Wherby growls, "come to stop you from what you are doing to his goblins!"
Minargul narrows her eyes and whistles sharply through the holes drilled in her teeth. "That's not how Shrilltooth talks! Stop lying! Show yourself"
Looks like the ruse is up. Tekmin prepares to whack the witch with his frying pan.
Herok pulled out one of his vine arrows to make sure Minargul couldn't get away and get help as he prepared to use it.
"Well, Shrilltooth tried!" Wherby grouses. "Now you will pay for what you did to his goblins!"
Herok and Ximble get the drop on Minargul!
The gnome reaches for a pair of bolas and throws them at the witch's legs. "Hey, she-witch, catch!" The gnome-goat duo then quickly move forward to engage the witch in melee combat.
Old Deadeye, let my aim be sure, and this arrow fly true. After a quick prayer, he activated the magic of the Vine Arrow, then nocked and fired the arrow at Minargul.
Ximble's bolas wrap around Minargul's legs, tripping the goblin witch. As he rides his goat into melee, Herok fires an arrow into Minargul's side. Vines sprout from the arrow, slowing the witch down.
Shrieking in anger, Minargul gets back to her feet. "Infidels! You will suffer the wrath of He Whose Breath is Death!" She whistles a high-pitched shrill note, breathing out a blast of fire and foul-smelling smoke as she does so!
Success: The creature takes 3d6 fire damage.
Failure: The creature takes 6d6 fire damage and is sickened 1 by the agonizing pain of the burns.
Critical Failure: The creature takes 6d6 fire damage and is cursed. The burns caused by the fire linger, and the charred flesh remains blistered. The cursed creature takes a –1 status penalty to all checks from the constant pain. Healing doesn’t alter the appearance of the burns or lessen the penalty, but removing the curse does.
"Now, now. None of that!"
Tekmin charges across the battlefield and takes two whacks at the witch.
for
for
"Infidels? That's a rather rude thing to call someone. Just because we don't worship the same god you do, doesn't mean we're infidels. You need to be more tolerant of others, you know."
Herok shifted his stance to better account for the close quarters, and then fired another arrow at Minargul prior to holding forth the symbol emblazoned on his bow to protect him from other spells she cast.
HP 53/53
AC 20
Fort +11, Ref +9, Will +12
Hero points: 2
Focus Points: 1/2
Spells prepped: 1st: enfeeble [], ill omen [], soothe []; 2nd: blood vendetta [], paranoia [][]; 3rd: invisibility sphere [x], slow [x]
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
"Slow down, everyone!" Wherby says, the force of magic filling his voice even if it only affects Minargul (if only he could get Tekmin to listen!). "Let the mind-controlled goblins go and we'll let you leave peacefully."
Ursividae moves closer, hissing at the goblin .