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Bokken: Ya I got all those kinds of potions. Ones that make things big, small, burn things, cure wounds, I gots um All. But I don't want your stinkin gold. What I want, is some help with a problem. See I got’a gang o fairy's up at my pond. They be messin with me frogs, and cutin up my plants and just pissin me off right proper. They're trapped by the fence and can't escape. You lot get up there and catch um, I don't care if they're live or dead. I’ll give you a potion for each one.
I dont know What gluggadrink is, give me the bottle and I'll see what I can do while you get those little pests.
magic sand? did i miss something?
The sound of a large explosion rings out from inside the hut, and a large black cloud of smoke rises from the chimney. The smoke settles heavily around the hill for a few seconds, smelling horrible and feeling a bit oily. Quickly dissipated by the wind, everything it covered, including you is now a bright day glow purple. from the open panel Old man Bokken shouts out to you
Plenty of big bads out there to fight my Gobys, remember to Use your word when dealing with your buddys.
The old wooden sine bursts into flames under influence from Hophop’s spell. Whatever sinister secrets it contained are quickly turned to ash and blown away on the breeze. While Freeva’s attempt causes the iron to glow red hot far a few minutes. A gruff voice shouts from inside the hut Who’s makin all that noise out there? Can’t you people read, dag nabit!!! Sales are by Appointment Only. With a loud “Chaa Clunk” a panel in the iron door swings open, revealing the wizened face of a human male with a surprisingly large nose. Oy you Gobs!! Get off my Grass. And you there with the pointy hat a nareld cane pops out of the open panel, and points to where Freeva is Standing. What in tarnation you think your doin to my Fence?
The Wrogs grumble unhappily about not getting to kill at least one of you as the Werewolf Olf sends them back to the hill to fetch his gear. He then confirms that you are headed in the correct direction to reach Old Bokken’s hut and sends the party on its way. Three more hours travel across the plains brings you to the odd sight that is Bokken’s hut. A four foot wrought iron fence circles a large green grassy hill sixty yards out, Atop the hill sits a small pond filled with lily pads and cattails circled again by a similar fence. multicolored smoke rises from the chimney of a small wooden hut built into the side of the hill, a pebble path leads from the huts iron door to a gate in the fence adorned with a small sine. Sine: What are you doin Goblins dont read
Olf: Join You? Presumptuous goblins! This is already Blackmane pack land and we need no help in protecting it from the likes of them. The Werewolf raises its hand, pointing a large claw at the trussed and almost unconscious bandit Happs. However if you wish to cause them harm I see no benefit in interfering. Perhaps if you prove successful we might reconsider allying with you. That still leaves us with your trespass. You smell of a recent kill, give us A share of your fresh meat or the bandit as tribute and you may pass through our lands free from harm for one moon. Refuse and we will save the Centaurs the trouble of exterminating your worthless band.
Wrogs stop on either side of the party as Chopslot, Frag frag an Feeva, attempt to dissuade them from turning you all into a midday meal. The conversation seems to be adding to the trouble. Suddenly the Werewolf charges forward. Stopping just out of reach of Chopslot and Okki. Releasing a terrible howl he swings a massive clawed hand at the ground raining dust and small pebbles over the party.
The Wrogs chase Okki an Chopslot back to the group, carfully darting in and out of range after Chopslot’s arrow grazes the one on the left. While the Werewolf slows his pursuit, staying several yards behind the Wrogs as they push the wayward gobs back to the party. Staying just over 100 feet out, the Wrogs circle the party counter clockwise and begin discussing which one of you Gobs they should eat first. : Brother Rog lets get the larger one first, hes the one that nicked me with his little arrow.
Meanwhile the Werewolf closes the distance from the party to about eighty feet. Yellow eyes, almost glowing even in the bright light of midday regard you, as it begins to circle in the opposite direction of the Wrogs. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing fangs six inches long and razor sharp. It moves slowly as if daring one of you to challenge it.
Dice:
Olf’s Intimidate chk Chopslot and Okki break away from the group, leaving the rest either staring at the shapes in the distance or finding some place to conceal themselves from the watching eyes. Moving through the tall grasses and using the lay of the land as best they can, the pair of brave (or foolish, sometimes its hard to tell) gobs close the distance to within 1500 feet. Their attempts at stealth however have proved ineffective. The two larger shapes launch themselves from the hill at amazing speed, racing to either side of the gob duo. Red glowing eyes become apparent as the monstrous Wrogs come ever closer, laughing malevolently. The third shape stands up on its hind legs and howls as it comes barreling down the distant hill, charging the barbarian and pajama clan fighter.
The weather is warm and sunny as you travel in a disorganized mob across the northern Kamelands. You’ve been walking for about 3 hours, over rocky hills and barren wastes. Sparse Grasses brown from the long winter, blow in a spring breeze. The groups animal friends have started acting skittish for the past 30 minutes, startling at any gust of wind from the north and needing constant coaxing to move at more than a slow walk. Coming out from behind a small bluff, you spot the cause of your beasts anxiety, 3 large shape watch you from a hill roughly half a mile to the north east.
rules for travel and exploration
Im under the impression that you Gobs are headed to the Alchemist. Plz let me know if you want to do anything else.
Sounds of construction come over the wall, along with some choice curse words, and soon a large log with a block and tackle are leaned over the wall. Oleg then threads a rope through, Creating a makeshift crane. Using a net attached to the rope he lowers a barrel and burlap sack down. Inspection reveals that the barrel contains lots of pickles and the sack has a vial of anti-toxin and assorted fruits, most of which seem almost spoiled. These parcels are followed by a small leather pouch, which “CHINKS” loudly as it lands on the ground. Lookin over the wall he starts addressing your questions. First to Chopslot “Sorry, got no big swords. Got a big old Ax if your intrested! That there bag of Gold is from some reward money that the Swordlords sent, I can give ya 67 more for proof of each bandit ya kill. as far as where ya can find more of those scum, I don’t know, but that pet of yours probably does. ” Then turning to Okki he inspects the goblins strange blade.
Oleg considers Frag frag and Memik’s questions for a minuet.
Dont likely know what you had in that bottle little lady, but it smells like flowers.” he says turning his attention to Freeva. Don't got any of that in here, you could try askin Old Bokken if he might have somthin like that. Hes a Hermit that dabbles in Alchemy, lives about 6 hours travel to the west of here.”
You all go about quickly striping the prisioner and corpses of anything valuable 75 gp
Well well, what will you Gobs Do now? You can consider Combat concluded, the last horse is about to drop dead from blood loss and Happs of the hanus mustache is in no shape to offer much in self defense.
Dice:
The remaining bandits watch in horror as the Goblin ambush claims more life's of their comrades. Seeing the mustachio bandit skewered on a lance with a wolves teeth at his throat is the final straw. The mounted human closest to the leader reins in his horse and turns to flee, but not before a quick slash from Okki opens a serious rend in his side. Slumping forward in the saddle he spurs his mount on. Unable to maintain his seat for more then several strides, as the horse starts to gallop,he plummets to the ground, head smashing on a large rock. The final Bandit without a mount of his own runs back to the cart and vaults over the side, shouting to the driver "Get us out O here, before these little freaks Kill us all." The driver dosen't need anymore persuasion, he and the last of the mounted men turn tail and run their animals as fast as they can to the south west. Kibbles and his Wolf Give chase, and in seconds the courageous Gob and his prey are out of sight. Leaving only the Skinny man with the mustache and a very wounded Horse behind.
@Chubgrub You couldn't charge the wounded horse (former bandit A's horse) as you wouldnt have a clear path. You could charge the horses of bandit B, or bandit G. You could also charge bandit D, plz let me know which you prefer. @Kibbles Happs did make his ride check, by a considerable margin. That didn't help him much against Frag's lance almost ripping him apart. Considering the couple feet of steel he finds himself impaled upon, I think you should be free of any attacks while you charge the terrible Horse. @Hophop I'm unable to find a mudball spell, plz provide a link. Will have an update ready some time tonight, not that you Gobs left much to work with. Vicious little freaks.
In the initial strike of the ambush, Chopslot has brought low one bandit, one horse has been viciously disposed of by Frag and Kibbles along with their respective wolf mounts. Another horse is severely wounded by the jaws of Teeths, and a small fire has kindled under the wagon. Still standing in the ditch on the east side of the road, Chubgrub begins to swell and distort into a larger version of Ugly. Still no sight of his missing brother.
*Surprise round*
Dawn breaks early on the Kameland plains, and with it comes the sounds of a large group coming up the road to the fort. The group of Men comes slowly up the road, 5 of them are arrogantly seated on horrible Horses. another drives a cart pulled by an old donkey, while two more men walk beside it. the leader of the group, a tall skinny human with sickly brown hair and a bad mustache, rides up to about ten feet from the gate and shouts. "Olag You Fat Swine, I've come to collect your taxes." Now is the time to strike my faithful Gobs! You have all waited patiently, hunkered down and hidden by the tall grass that grows in the ditch beside the road. Murder these humans, Slaughter the horses, and Burn the cart.
Every one should be able to edit the map now.
Can any of you select and move your images about the map?
All right you Gobs, lets have a roll call and see who gets to eat some tasty man meats. I also need to know if you can view and interact with this Map.
Any of you Gobs still around? The great and powerful Venkelvore wishes to see what will come of this goblin game, Make King.
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