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Thadaenn spends the better part of thirty minutes poring over the journal and scroll. The scroll contains a script almost identical to the one currently in your possession, but the plucky dwarf manages to surmise that this one is the 'master' copy. Between the arcane knowledge of Thadaenn, Nilah and Tuva, as a group you probably figure that it was used to transport the group of goblins into the basement of the warehouse in Targos. Thadaenn:
The journal is very intricate and detailed, and the unfamiliar script makes translation difficult. The only real information you can glean is the word "Legion" and that a significant event is set to occur on the next full Moon. Tuva,Khasos: The next full moon will occur in a week. (This will become pertinent after Thadaenn reveals his findings)
As Thadaenn's ensorcelled key floats into place and turns in the lock, an ear-piercing scream fills the air. You imagine the magical voice would been quite painful to hear had you been closer, and Thadaenn's quick thinking has saved you all from a lot of grief. Inside the chest, you find a number of mundane items. A warm coat of furs, an elegant dagger, a vellum scroll and a small leather bound journal are the most eye catching possessions in Phaen's chest. The coat seems to bear a minor enchantment to ward against cold. The dagger seems to be very well balanced, and holds a keen edge.
The Journal is bound in a bitter smelling leather. The pages are covered in scrawling writing of a similar script to the scroll you found on Vghotan. The vellum scroll bears almost identical runes as the one currently in your possession. It is similarly warm, and smells of brimstone.
Nice solution to the trap on the chest, Thadaenn. I'll post soon with the result and contents :)
Thadaenn: Searching the bookcase reveals a few items of interest. Phaen is wearing a pair of bracers, with runes you recognise as symbols of warding.
He also has a tarnished brass key, which seems to fit the lock on the small chest at the foot of his bed.
Tyrek presses the magical flame into the remaining goblins face, melting through the skin and bone leaving nothing but a smoldering hole in its head.
The bolt of magical energy flies from Nilah's hand, striking Vghotan in the chest. It burns a fist-sized hole in the goblin, and the unnatural light fades from Vghotan's eyes as his corpse falls to the ground.
Griff steps in and lets loose a mighty punch, connecting fairly with Phaen's jaw and gruesomely disclocating it with a sickening 'CRACK'. The wizard slumps to the floor instantly.
The goblin closest to Phaen is singed heavily by the flames, though he stubbornly writhes around the his puddle of grease. Vghotan clumsily lurches backwards, managing to avoid the brunt of Tyrek's spell, while the third goblin falls to the ground with bubbling flesh. Enraged, the zombie of Vghotan staggers toward Tyrek and lashes out with sharp claws, while the prone goblin next to Griff reaches out and grabs at his ankles.
As Nilah casts her magic in the Abyssal tongue, a look of recognition crosses the old wizards face, and he briefly looks to her with an unmistakable expression of intrigue. Snapping his attention back to the threat at hand, Phaen begins to incant another spell, and with a hand wreathed in dark energy reaches out to touch Griff.
Griff steps forward over the dead goblin, roaring as he throws his fist in a wide arc. He stumbles over the corpse of his previous enemy though, and misses the frail old wizard. Khasos summons the blessing of Selune, and the warehouse is briefly lit with a shimmering, silvery glow as divine power bolsters you all. Tuva steps forward toward Griff, calling upon her witchcraft to give the half-orc a vision of what may occur in the next few seconds.
Thadaenn conjures up a thick, viscous layer of oil where the zombies of Vghotan and another goblin stand. They move to step out of the inhibiting mess, and in doing so slip straight onto their faces.
Flames fan out from Tyrek's hands, filling the warhouse with a harsh dry heat for just a moment. The spell catches the undead form of Vghotan and his two nearest allies, scorching flesh with a sickening smell. The centre goblin manages to avoid the hottest part of the flame, however the other two victims aren't so lucky. Onee seems to melt before your eyes, leaving a hideous puddle of melted flesh and charred bones. The other, the zombified corpse of Vghotan, takes the brunt of the heat and glares at the oracle with fierce hatred.
"Fools! You have no idea what you are getting yourselves into! You have stumbled upon something far bigger than yourselves!" Phaen exclaims at the sudden burst of movement from you all. "It is of little consequence; Targos shall fall and if you have cast your lot in with these pathetic wretches then you shall fall alongside them.' he mutters as an afterthought, all the while his hand begins to weave arcane shapes in the air. He grunts as Khasos' crossbow bolt strikes him, before completing his spell.
Griff hears a whisper in his mind, a spectral voice promising eternal pain and suffering. He shakes it off, determined to turn the face of his opponent into pulp. Charging in to close with the necromancer, his path is blocked by the goblin corpses as they rise into the air like marrionettes on a string. Unable to reach Phaen, he moves in and lands a punch square on the creature closest to Phaen. It folds as it's neck snaps back with a sickening crunch.
Thadaenn's prepared spell blasts from his fingertips, the multicoloured ray of light washing harmlessly over the undead goblins before hitting Phaen with a dull hum.
We'll, that escalated quickly! I'll have a post up with actions soon guys, it's gonna be another combat (with maps!) So just give me a few hours to make sure I have it all just right. For tactics sakes I'm going to say you're all standing just inside the warehouse, otherwise the first few rounds will be messy as! I was more than a little excited to read your posts, well played team!
"Gah, what does he think I am, some kind of miracle worker? The guards already dropped these off here at the crack of dawn, I was told to prepare my spells to interrogate them." he says, gesturing toward the goblin corpses which line the floor. "When I departed Cormyr with the Iron Collar band, I assumed this would be an opportunity to further my studies of necromancy among the tribal spellcasters. Apparently my job now entails teaching illiterate adventures how to read. Here, quickly then! Show me this scroll!" GM rolls for PC's:
Thadaenn:
You notice a distinct yet subtle change in Phaen's demeanor at the mention of a scroll. Even though it's quite cold inside the warehouse, you see nervous beads of sweat beginning to form upon his brow. Khasos: You recall hearing that a necromancer joined the Iron Collar band in Luskan. According to the braggings of the other members of Phaen's crew, he was not a part of the band when they departed Cormyr.
You open the door to the warehouse and peer inside. Most of the furniture has been removed, save a rickety bed, a few makeshift bookshelves and a table. In the centre of the room lies an old rug, on top of which you see the bodies of Vghotan and the other five goblins your party defeated the night before. An old man, clad in dirty robes haphazardly crafted from what looks to be old scraps of rags and furs, stands behind the table. His wirey, snow coloured hair sticks out at odd angles, and a long crooked nose juts out from his craggy face. He looks up as you disturb the tranquility of his domain, and squints. "Bah! I was under the impression that Lord Ulbrec had prepared these quarters for *me*, yet clearly I am mistaken. Why else would you brazenly disturbed my work here? Who are you, and what do you want?" he sneers.
Captain Swift gives you directions to Phaen's abode, an old warehouse on the outskirts of Targos. You find it odd that his residence is outside of the palisade, until the Captain explains that the mage specialises in necromancy. He also informs you that Phaen also belongs to one of the companies which sailed into Targos a few weeks ago, The Iron Collar Mercenaries. Phaen was allowed entry to the city due to his particular skillset; Lord Ulbrec found it convenient to have an ally who could converse with dead goblins, and his efforts have provided some intelligence to the guardsmen in preparing for the pepper pot of assaults they've faced recently. You arrive at the warehouse, and knock loudly on the door. There is no answer, but the door is unlocked...
I'll throw up another post soon regarding your trip to Phaen's home soon all, just entertaining a house full of kids :)
"Excellent. I'll organise rooms for you all at the Weeping Widow Inn, I trust you'll find it far more accomodating than your lodgings at the Salty Dog. From now on, you'll report directly to Captain Swift. Return to him after speaking with Phaen for your payment. Standard fee for mercenaries is 1 gold piece per tenday, however your actions at the docks last night warrant a greater reward. Consider this your hazard pay." Lord Ulbrec remarks as he hands you all a pouch containing 20 gold pieces each. "If there's nothing else, good luck on your endeavours." he says, returning to the stack of papers scattered on his desk.
Ulbrec's expression softens for a brief moment at the words of Thadaenn and Tyrek. You glimpse the utter exhaustion etched upon his face, and it's clear to see that the very real threat to Targos and the Ten Towns has caused more than a few sleepless nights for the lord mayor. "I...I understand. Forgive my harsh words; these attacks are wearing thin my patience. Of course you are trustworthy; why else would you prevent a potentially devastating attack on our town? I'll be 'straight' with you from now on." he says. "So, what say you then? If you're up to the task of taking this scroll to Phaen I must warn you, he has quite the acidic tongue. You two may even get along." he says to Tyrek with the slightest smirk.
"I agree, the goblins and orcs have long been a problem for all northlanders. The fact they they are rallying together is fearsome, and divided we will surely fall to their might. However, we are not divided. As we speak, scouts from Targos are gathering information as to the precise size and hopefully location of the enemy forces, while emissaries have been dispatched to the other towns along with Kuldahar and Neverwinter requesting aid. We will band together, and if the tribes of the north are willing to join as well then surely we will have a stronger chance of besting whatever enemy we face." Lady Elytharra says proudly. "Elytharra! Enough! These mercenaries need not know our every intention!" Ulbrec interjects, clearly seething that his wife has overstepped her boundaries.
"I fear you may be right, but that gives us all the more reason to figure out exactly what we're up against." Lady Elytharra replies to Tuva. "You wear the trappings of an Uthgardt, from which tribe do you hail? I understand your concern, and I want you to know that we'll do everything in our power to ensure the Ten Towns and the tribes of the north don't fall to this horde." she says calmly, though a hint of sadness shines through her eyes.
Haha, there you go! I didn't even know, that's like half the party right here!
"You were 'locked in the docks' with all of the other companies for a reason, young man. Many unsavoury types floated in upon the Shaengarne chasing coin, and we couldn't be sure where their loyalties lie. That tongue of yours could get you in trouble, I'd watch your tone lest some consider your comments to be insubordinate." Ulbrec replies to Tyrek in an equally barbed tone. His eyes briefly flick towards Nilah at the mention of the word 'unsavory', pausing for just a moment. The stresses of late are clearly affecting the Lord, and you all get the impression that his patience has worn quite thin. "Hmm, these are bad tidings indeed. The actions you describe are not typical of goblins, they seem far more organised, more... tactical." muses Ulbrec. Moments later, a tall Elven woman enters the room. Her blond hair flows like liquid gold, framing her perfectly symmetrical features. She looks to you all with eyes the colour of emeralds before approaching the desk. "I overheard your discussion from the study, Milord. May I see this scroll you recovered?" she asks, her voice gentle and sweet like honey. As she looks over the piece of vellum, her features crinkle into a frown. "Master Dwarf, I feared your appraisal is correct. This seems to pertain to some kind of teleportation magic, though even I am unfamiliar with the script within which it is written. Perhaps Phaen would be able to decipher it?" she says, offering her suggestion to the Lord. "Indeed, he may. So, adventurers, I request your aid once more. Are you willing to enter the employ of the city of Targos? I require you to take this scroll to another mage in town, one who goes by the name of Phaen. I trust I don't need to add that this is a confidential issue; the less people who know about it the better. You'll be compensated for your efforts, I assure you." says Ulbrec, turning to you all once more.
No worries Nilah. I also just realised that you're also Yeda in the Rise of the Runelords game that I'm in! Tyrek, I'm genuinely afraid that you're going to burn down Ulbrec's manor out of spite!
The Captain escorts you through the streets of Targos toward Lord Ulbrec's estate. The manor is situated on the eastern edge of the cliff face, and is easily the largest building in the city. You enter the building and are directed to Lord Ulbrec's war room. Bookcases line the walls, along with a few scattered chests. In the rear corner of the room you see a mannequin adorned in a dusty suit of plate armour, bearing markings typical of a Neverwintan soldier. A well dressed man stands over a table, inspecting various maps and documents. Though he is obviously in his late fifties, he has the strong posture and build of a warrior. At your approach, he places the piece of parchment he is holding onto the table and addresses you. "You must be the mercenaries who intervened at the docks last night. I've already heard of your efforts, and Targos thanks you for your quick thinking and initiative. Captain Swift has given me a brief report of your activities last night, but I wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth. So, what can you tell me?" he asks.
Nilah: As the vellum scroll floats out of Tyrek's pack, you're intrigued by the smell of it. You glimpse at the strange runes etched on its surface, some of them seem familiar to you but the context makes no sense. You recognise the language as Infernal, the script of devils.
@Nilah, I really liked that little bit of in-character reflection in your last post. Very tasteful :)
@Tyrek, just saw your party name suggestions. I'm inspired to have the Lord of Targos now refer to you guys as his 'Problem Solvers' until a more appropriate name surfaces :)
Khasos, Captain Thomas is an honorable man and though he holds no love for goblins (they're his favoured enemy) he understands that you've made a promise to poor young Chiglet. He won't allow Chiglet's fate to be decided until such a time that you're present to speak on his behalf.
As you all return to the Salty Dog tavern, any thought of celebration is quickly overthrown by thoughts of your warm bed. The tavern is closed, and and you wearily enter you see the barkeep, Brogan, mopping the floors and tidying up the mess left by the occupants from the night before. You realise that dawn is probably only a few hours away, and the idea of sleep suddenly become very appealing. The next morning, you make your way down to the common to for breakfast. Brogan himself brings your meal out, consisting of crispy fried bacon and toasted buttery bread, with eggs on the side and bitter strong coffee. "Seems ye've made a friend in young Cap'n Thomas. He passed by early this morning and paid up yer debts for the room an' drink for the last tenday, and for breakfast this morning. Eat up, that's the last of me winter stores for bacon. Cost him a fair bit 'o coin, mind." he grumbles, licking his lips jealously as he serves your meal. The other mercenaries look to your delicious meal with a similar expression before starting on their own breakfasts, mostly of boiled oats served with Brogan's infamous 'Mystery Stew'. You are glad to taste something different for once, as rumour has it that the mystery ingredients in Brogan's stew include rats caught from the cellar.
No worries Tyrek, I won't be putting a post up for a few hours yet anyway.
@Khasos, excellent summary of the adventure thus far. You guys have accomplished quite a bit in just a few hours of game time :)
Re-reading the last few posts I can totally see where you're coming from Tuva. It's a little bit confusing as to who is where and doing what, but don't worry! There's not really going to be much opportunity to split up in future, so everything should be a little more streamlined. Thanks for your patience with my GMing guys, learning how to pace a PBP has been a steep curve, but I'm starting to figure it out. I'm so glad to have such a great group of players for my first campaign, I'm really enjoying this so thank you all for being a part of it!
Khasos and Tyrek: The unmistakable clanking sound of steel armor can be heard coming from the north. As you peer around the corner of the small shed you're standing in, you make out at least a dozen heavily armed guards. Unlike the previous guardsmen you've encountered, who were clad in leather jerkins and wielding simple spears, these soldiers wear suits of battered scale and chain. Each one carries a small shield, and they brandish blades or axes as they make their way through the harbor in strict formation. As they reach the sight of the previous skirmish near Jorun's boat, the one in front stops two soldiers and clearly gives some kind of order. The two nod, then begin to deal with the grisly scene as the rest continue on. The leader kneels for a moment, inspecting your tracks before following them toward Jorun's dwelling.
Drow aren't necessarily common knowledge, if you had an elf in the party I'd probably allow some more information but let's just say that you've all heard the fairy tales about the Dark elves who live underground. Nothing really specific about their society/culture etc.
Haha, for a throwaway NPC he's developed into quite the character! I'm beginning to like the little guy, might even have to make an alias for him :) You'll have your work cut out for you if you plan to make him into a celebrity chef, he's got about 4 recipes and they all contain various parts of a wild dog ;)
Chiglet greedily snatches at the ration with his jaws, devouring it rather noisily. Goblin:
"Yous pinkies always got good foods! Gonna be tough for Chiglet to cook better than this meat you give me... Don't worry, Chiglet make you seven secret spiced dog legs, yum!" The goblins says, with a toothy grin. Goblin: "Well... Ok then... But Chiglet not know much, we Mokrul goblins just soldiers for the masters. I never seen 'em, but Gargal did and he says they're the scariest elves he ever saw! They got eyes like fire, and strange skin and powerful magics like BOOYAGH! Guthma says he's not scared, but when they send the Dragon lady to talk to him he gets real nervous. Guthma is warchief of the five goblin tribes, he a real tough bugbear. I seen him kill 3 orcs at once, I swear!" Chiglet becomes visibly afraid now, aware of the fact that he's said far too much. "Can we talk about recipes now? Chiglet scared..."
I've found a few maps, and I've begun using an online tool to make custom ones as well :) Yeah it is haha, straight outta 2002! I couldn't get rid of the grid overlay, that's not a part of the game but I guess you could assume each grid is roughly 10ft? It doesn't matter too much, we haven't much longer left in the docks anyway
Tyrek and Khasos:
As you enter the woodworking shed, you find a small pile of reasonably fresh sawdust in the eastern corner of the room. A perfect seat for your captive, you place him down and remove the cord from his mouth. The goblin flexes his jaw as he listens intently to Khasos, and slowly an expression of wonder finds it's way onto his face as the Half Orc speaks softly in the Goblin tongue. Khasos: You manage to convey a sense of calm, almost gentle intentions when speaking to Chiglet. No small feat, as the harsh and guttural language has few words to imply such concepts. Chiglet stops flexing his jaw, looking at you with an expression of awe. "You... you waaay nicer than Vghotan! You don't even kick Chiglet yet! he exclaims with a broad grin. "You really help Chiglet not get killed by the pinkskin axeman? Chiglet help you! Chiglet really good helper! Best cooker in the Mokrul clan, I can give best recipes! What you want to know? Please don't ask about the masters though, they scary! Even Guthma scared of them, and he really big!"
Yep, that's him :) I'm just going to wait a little longer before my next gameplay post, just in case there's anything the other's would like to add before taking Chiglet over to the shed. Now that I think about it, a woodworking shed could have made a much different setting for your interrogation, especially if someone a little less understanding was leading the conversation. All those hammers, chisels, nails, files.... that could have been nasty :/
So great to have you on the way back Thadaenn, we missed you! Khasos, your attempt at diplomacy was beautiful to read, and combined with that roll I've decided to allow you to influence Chiglet from hostile to friendly. I'll have a post up soon detailing his conversation with you, well done!
I've added a map of the harbour! I've finally figured out Google docs so I'll have a map up for your next encounter [it's rough so please don't judge :D) Do you guys mind if I use aliases for recurring NPC's? It helps me get into character more, it makes me feel more involved in the interactions, but if it's a distraction I don't mind just posting with my GM alias
GM Dice rolls:
Nilah channels her inner arcane talent, as a faint golden light shimmers along the edge of her blade. Her blade moves blindingly fast, slipping easily underneath the goblin's meager defenses to slash neatly across its throat. The creature drops its weapon, eyes pleading for help as it clutches the gushing wound. With a gurgle, it breathes its last... At the same time the dwarf strikes his own opponent with renewed vigor, the magical aid from Khasos and Tuva raising his spirits. His hammer crushes down on goblin skull, felling the creature gruesomely. Moments later Tyrek and Griff arrive, panting heavily.
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