TheRPGSite

You have made your way to the outskirts of the town of Last Keep, a lonely little place that sits north of nothing and south of nowhere. Home to a collection of trappers and huntsmen that supply the towns only trade goods, the pelts and furs of the regions peculiarly sized wildlife. They eek out a hard living in the thick forests that surround a singular mountain that sits three days march to the north. Odd rumors have been trickling out of the area for years, but of late they have reached a fever pitch. Only you and the Gods know what motivations would bring a man to such a rough outpost at the ends of civilization.

The light of day is failing as you arrive outside a small inn, just off the shoddy dirt path that passes for a road in these parts. A weather worn two story stone building with thatched roof, flanked by two small stables on either side lies before you. A warm light seeps through a pair of thin glass windows that sit on either side of the door. Above the door is a crudely painted sign depicting a huntsman clad in green stumbling about, carved in the front of the door are the words "The Huntsman's Hangover".

A strong wind is picking up from the west and a quick glance skyward reveals a thick bank of storm clouds rolling in. Despite the could cover a few stars seem to be blazing particularly bright.
 
Your life of adventure begins here, may fortune favor you.

Brogar Redshirt, a tall narrow man, even in his armor gladly reaches for the door handle, his feet tired and his back sore, and his old wounds from his time in the Baron's army fighting along the borders in the north bothering him something fierce. He may have great plans for adventure and the glories of treasures, but at this moment, he wants only a good seat and a hot meal out of the weather.

Quobbles the halfling, a twitchy specimen of his race with a crumpled appearance suddenly appears from the undergrowth.  A fierce light of intelligence glints in his eyes, tempered with a basic kindness.

He addresses the tall warrior irreverently, but not aggressively:

"Well met, lanky!"

With a laugh, followed by a cough, the lanky fighter turns and replies, "Well met yourself! Let's get out of this weather, eh?"

He opens the door and steps inside, hoping for the smell of something good to eat.  He holds the portal open for the short guy.

"Very kind, and I thought we'd travelled beyond the bastion of good manners to get to this sketchy place."

Quobbles ducks under Brogar's arm and peers around the interior of The Huntsman's Hangover.  He mutters, partly to himself:

"Now, what I really need is a dumm-I mean assistant-to lug around this baggage.  It's been too many miles!"

He pats a bundle under his arm, which clinks quietly.

Inside you are greeted by the acrid smell of a roaring hearth, the stink of cheap ale and the low rumble of a dozen conversations. A bar runs the length of the back wall, save for the stairs that sit to its left, the right most wall is taken up by the great hearth. Seated at the tables that occupy the center of the room are a gaggle of locals, gruff looking men and a few gaunt, stern featured women. A small group of raucous young men stand round the hearth trading stories of their physical prowess, some of which may even be true.

A tall, lanky man with thinning hair and a smashed nose is moving amongst them all, serving drinks from a platter. He nods in your direction "Welcome to the Huntsman's Hangover, or the Hangover as we call it round here. What can I do for ya lads?"

"Hello fellow.  Some grub and maybe even some conversation, if you serve that.  We'll start with an ale apiece, and then whatever you've got cooking."  He looks at Brogar:

"These ones are on me."

Once the drinks arrive Quobbles will approach the rowdies by the fire, and be ingratiating, favouring the stupidest of the group, if one is apparent.

Weary from his long day of walking, Donovan Nevalaps opens the door to the Huntsman's Hangover and walks in lightly as a chilled wind ushers him inside effortlessly.  He turns and pushes the door closed as the last wisps of wind flutter the ends of his church tabard.  He cuts quite a figure with his chain mail armor, shield with church symbol emblazoned on it, and his new mace at his hip.  

As all eyes turned to fall upon him, Donovan gives a sheepish grin and steps up to the long wooden bar that runs the length of the back wall.  He takes off his backpack and drops it at his feet, and then puts his shield over the pack and stands between his belongings and the bar.  He gladly meets the gaze of any patron with a firm, but weary, smile of friendliness.

Speaking to no one in particular, Donovan says in a firm and loud voice, "good night for a warm cider, is it not?"

"Come take a load off, Father!" Says the lanky fighter, his own spear and shield leaning on the wall behind him, the device on which declares him a muster out of the Baron's service.  For a fearful gaunt face he looks rather friendly.

Donovan smiles at the soldier and picks up his belongings and walks over to his table.  He sets his stuff down next to his chair and sits down.

"Thank you, friend," he says once seated and looking across from the soldier, "it was a long day of traveling and my feet are sore.  This place was a welcome sight as I was not looking forward to a wet camp under the stars this night."

"My name is Gareth Cutpurse, I am the owner and proprietor of this establishment. Drinks are 3 coppers a piece, a bowl of stew is 4 and the conversation is free" the lanky gentleman serving drinks beams at Quobbles. One of the locals chimes in "With those prices now ya know why they call him Cutpurse." "There's not wrong with my prices, you lot are just cheap" Gareth retorts.

Several of the locals nod greetings at Donovan, a few mumble a polite "Father". Quobbles and Gareth exchange coin for the food and drink. Quobbles approaches the youths carousing near the fire, he spots one immediately as the perhaps the dimmest and loudest of the bunch. He is a tall, broad, young man of perhaps 20 summers with thick brown locks and a handsome face, busily regaling the others with tails of his might.

Quobbles winks at Brogar and the holy man now joining him before addressing the loud simpleton.

"So many famous deeds you've got to tell of, good sir, and you so young!  Either I should hire you as my assistant straight away, or you're economical with the truth!"

OOC:  Hopefully he's not so dumb that the job offer passes him by.

The young man cocks his head and replies, "econma.. econmig... what now?". One of the other youths pipes in, a lean, rough looking lad with a sharp look in his eyes "He wants to hire you for something Holt". Holt pauses, his slow mind pondering as if perplexed by some great mystery "Nah, I don't think so, I don't work for no one but myself".

OOC: just a heads up I am rolling for reactions as per the book, not intentionally trying to make things difficult.

Donovan smiles and nods politely at those who addressed him, and then turns to the soldier at the table.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he says in a friendly tone and demeanor, "my name is Father Donovan Nevalaps.  It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Brogar is my name.  I'm from a village in the Barony, a baker's son." He smiles.

Quobbles grins and jovially claps the ignoramus on the (small of the) back.  

"Not to worry, Holt, you'll get there in the end!  How about any of you other lads?  Care to make a bit of extra ale money as a porter?  You know as well as I there's some ah...weighty rumours going around here at the moment."

Several of the other young men give some variation on a disinterested shake of the head. However the rough looking lad who helped Holt puzzle out what Quobbles meant thoughtfully scratches his head through his already thinning red hair, then gives a slow nod. "Aye, I could use some work. Besides like you said there's some awful heady rumors floating about and my curiosity is getting the best of me, it'd be worth to see what's on out there. The name is Aiden by the way" he says extending his hand to Quobbles. "Course" he says with a grin "there'd be a matter of payment, depending on what your about I'd be willing to work for a flat fee or a percentage of whatever ya may come across, now if your wondering about the whispers makin the rounds abouts here Gareth is the gent to ask".

Quobbles reaches up and shakes the proffered hand.

"Well Aiden, it's good to have you on board.  If you join me with these two worthies at the table over here, I think we can discuss your contract over the next round."

At the table:

"Father Nevalaps, if I eavesdropped correctly?  Quobbles, and pleased to meet you.  This is Aiden.  If you and the fighter Brogar are interested, I say we hash out a little deal, and maybe investigate some of the stories that have been floating around Last Keep?  After all, we're outsiders here, and might want to stick together."

Quobbles then greedily tucks into the stew, and will offhandedly quiz Gareth about any rumours when he next passes.

As Gareth makes his next round, refilling mugs and handing out new ones Quobbles inquires as to the local talk. "Oh" Gareth mutters a dark look passing over his face, "there's plenty a trouble about". He pauses and thinks for a moment "Well that tribe of goblins what lives in the caverns neath the Halls has been more trouble than usual, matter a fact couple of the hunters have gone missing, and a few of the boys say they seen extra sized goblins lurking about the forests. Hobgoblins they say, but we ain't had them around here before so I say they may a just been drunker than usual."

 He goes back to serving drinks but continues talking "Oh and there's that matter of some sort of illness coming on one of the Chiefs men, but Chief Caden has been doing his damnedest to keep that matter hush. That mad bastard of a hedge wizard Alric is offering coin to anyone willing to fetch something outa the Halls for him. Course you could always go listen to mad Uthred spin his tales about the ghost of Sir Rollin haunting the Halls". He stops for a moment, pauses and turns toward Quobbles "Being from outside here you prolly haven't heard much of the Halls, you ought to ask either that wizard Alric or our priest Blind John, they could tell ya more than ya want to know".

Donovan rubs his chin in thought absently as he says, "man-sized goblins are indeed troubling and something that shouldn't be taken lightly.  The humanoid tribes are like cockroaches and, left unchecked, will become an infestation quickly."

"They were certainly a pestilence in the border regions."  The fighter pays as much attention to the surrounding conversations as the food and drink, but he does eat like a soldier, very much and very fast.

Quobbles grimaces.

"Based on some recent...unpleasantness at the hands of Gnolls, I agree that as soon as humanoid evil grows to man-size or taller, it can be a real nuisance, if easily outwitted.

Personally I'm curious about this Alric person.  It might be wise to have a definite objective in view, avoid all ambiguities and collect a nice pay packet.  Wizards can be free with their coin when they really want one of their magical doodads.  Thoughts?"

Donovan nods in general agreement with Quobbles' assessments, and says, "I will speak with Blind John tomorrow and get his perspective on the happenings of late.  After Garth explained the troubles of late, it occurs that these troubles may be interrelated somehow."  

Looking at Quobbles, Donovan asks, "perhaps you could speak with the wizard Alric in the morning?"

"Would you be willing to speak with Uthred?" he says to Brogar.

"We could then meet here for lunch tomorrow and compare notes.  What say you?" he finishes with a satisfactory smile.

"Father, I think it an excellent plan, especially the lunch."

To Aiden:

"How does 12 gold for your first 4 days work sound?  Bonuses will be considered for particularly...*ahem* fraught situations, at your employers discretion."

And then Quobbles will accost Gareth (or Aiden) as to the whereabouts of Alric.

Aiden scratches absently at his hair, "Aye I suppose that is fair enough". Quobbles inquires as to Alrics whereabouts, "Oh the wizard? He keeps locked up in that tower of his, it's just inside the walls of the keep. He's supposed to be Chief Caden's man but truth told he is his own boss".

"yes, I'll go see this Uthred." He says between bites, then turning to the young porter, he asks, "Where would I find him early in the day?"

Aiden looks thoughtful for a moment "He should be in the keep, set up near the hearth in the main hall. He was something of a warrior in his time and loyal to the Chief's grandfather so the Chief lets him stay despite his age and obvious madness. They say he took a mace blow to the head in the Halls and aint been right since".

"Hmm. Good."  The fighter goes back to enjoying his food.

He continues to enjoy the evening and the conversation, freely telling his war stories-- he's been in three real battles and a dozen tense standoffs-- and listening to the stories of others, laughing at jokes and sharing a few ribaldries of his own.

Quobbles dismisses Aiden for the moment, telling him he'll be collected.

The rest of the evening he spends leaning back in his chair contentedly, occasionally dropping a witty riposte or two, but in general remaining taciturn until it's time for an early bed.

OOC: If Aiden shares his address, well and good, otherwise can we find him here at the bar?

Assuming rooms here are just deducted from our gp total?

OOC: yes Aiden will show up here early in the morning. The GP total for food drink and lodging will be deducted as well.

Donovan will eat supper and have a couple of drinks before retiring for the night.  If only a common room is available he's fine with it, otherwise he'll take a small room for the night.  

He keeps up his end of the conversations had that evening with his new friends and the local patrons.

Gareth approaches the party gathered round their table. "Alright gents your welcome to stay down here long as you like, but there is a common room with beds upstairs for 1sp a night or you can have your own room for 5sp. The beds are comfortable and mostly free of bugs" Gareth says with a wink and nod.

OOC: as far as book keeping go as I can tell so far here are the expenses for everyone, if I have missed or added anything by mistake please let me know.

Quobbles has paid for both his and Brogar's drinks for a total of 6cp, a meal for 4cp, and a room for 5sp

Brogar has paid for his own meal and I assume room? a total of 4cp and 5sp

Donovan has paid for a drink, a meal, and lodging in the common rooms for 3cp, 4cp, and 1sp respectively.

<>ooc: Brogar will stay in the common room for the 1s.<>
Picking up his gear, Brogar says "It has been quite a march here, so I'm off to catch a bunk in the common room.  Good night, friends."

Collecting his gear he takes it up the stairs and finds a bunk in the common room, stashing his gear in an orderly fashion under the bunk.  In record time his armor is off and most of his outfit and down to his red shirt and trunks.  He stretches and then prays to the gods of travel and battle, and then crawls into the bunk full of gratitude and plans for the next day.

You awake to a chill grey morning. A vicious  storm raged through the latter half of the night, cracking thunder, driving rain, and pelting hail. There is an odd still to the air and an alert eye would note that there are still a few stars burning bright enough to be seen through the clouds. The smoke of the hearth greets you downstairs as does the aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh biscuits. A few of the early risers are in grabbing breakfast and Aiden sits at the bar speculating the course of the winters weather with Gareth.

Quobbles walks downstairs whistling between his teeth.

"Morning all.  Just a biscuit and a saucer of drippings for the road, I'm in a bit of a hurry.  I think I'll pay Wizard Alric a visit in the keep straight away. Will I be able to walk straight up to his tower, or do I need to request an audience through this Chief Caden?"

He nods to Aiden.
 
"Hello lad.  Shouldn't be needing your services until we head to these Halls we've been hearing about.  Need any advance on your 12 gold?"

Aiden nods at Quobbles "Morning, you don't have to speak to the Chief. The gates to the keep are open all ya have to do is tell the guard you have need of the Wizard. An advance would be nice, say half? I need to buy a few bits of gear to square my kit away".

Donovan wakes up early in the and quietly goes about his daily devotions to Ouros before heading downstairs.  

Nodding to Garth, Aiden, and Quobbles as he enters the common room, he says cheerfully, "good morning, Gentlemen!  The night's storm was dispelled by the delicious smell of frying bacon when I awoke."

Smiling wide, Donovan asks Garth, "may I please have some breakfast?  Do you have any coffee too?  I sure would love a cup with my bacon and biscuits."

As Garth goes about his business, Donovan sits down with Aiden and Quobbles and asks of Aiden, "do you know where I can find Father Blind John this morning?"

Quobbles presses 6 gold into Aiden's palm jovially.  

"There you are-'few bits of gear' indeed!  Yours to spend on drink and women for all I mind!"

He grabs his biscuit and drippings and heads out the door to the keep gates, clapping his hand on Donovan's shoulder and leaving a slight greasy smear as he goes.

"See you in a few, Father Nevalaps!"

Gareth smiles and replies "Sure thing, though I must warn the coffee is likely not what your used to, the locals prefer a brew so strong it's almost foul". Gareth strolls off to fetch Donovan's request.

Aiden nods at Donovan "Aye Father, he'll be at the temple preparing for the days devotions. It's a few minutes walk west of the keep, right in the middle of town. It's actually a small complex, there's the chapel, the hospital, and the living quarters all inside a small stone wall. Ya can't miss it if your looking for it".

Quobbles:
The town is mostly a collection of timber and thatch buildings sown lazily along shoddy dirt paths. The mornings cook fires can be seen rising from chimneys and many of the residents are already milling about in damp gloom.

The main road north from the "Hangover" is just wide enough for two carts to pass side by side. It takes a bit less than half an hours muddy trek to reach the keep gates. The keep itself is a motte and bailey affair with timber and earth walls. The road leads straight through the rusted iron gate and as you approach you are acosted by two mailed and armed men standing guard.

The older of the two, a short broad built man with a gagly blonde beard swaggers up with an air of self importance. "Whats your buisness in the keep halfling?" he barks.

Quobbles bows low enough that his forelock grazes the dirt.

"Good sir, I humbly request a meeting with the wizard Alric"

The older of the two guardsmen looks thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know ab-" but he is cut off by the younger, one "Ahh what are ya troubling him for Will" he gives a nod and a small grin lights his pox scarred, homley face. "You can go in, Will here is a bother to everyone. The wizard should be in his tower doing gods know what" he jerks his thumb through the gate in the direction of the tower.

A quick glance up would reveal that the sorry sturcture barely qualifies for the title tower. Its covered in moss and leans to the left more than is proably safe. The towers stones scarcley rise five stories

"A good morning to you both."

The halfling hooks his thumbs through his belt loops, and strides toward the tower.  As he passes through, his eyes astutely scan the keep and it's grounds.  He hops up the threshold and brazenly knocks on the crumbling tower door.

As you scan the grounds you see that the rather large space inside the wall slowly rises up to a mound upon which sits an aging, moss covered stone keep. The keep rises for three stories and as far as keeps go is on the small side. There are several wooden outbuildings, kitchen, stables, and the like. There is handful of men at arms milling about.


Your knock on the old wooden door is met with a testy reply "Yes, Yes, come in damn it" sounds a wavering, gravely old voice.

Boldly push open the door and walk in, making no attempt at secrecy.

Inside the door you find a room that holds all the odds and ends apparent to a wizards trade. To the left end of the room is a stair case. The walls are lined with bookshelfs that are packed to their limit. There are several tables covered in various alchemical supplies, instruments for tracking the movements of stars, and jars containing all manners of botanical oddities. The right wall is home to a roaring fireplace. Near the fire is placed a bed and a large reclining chair.

Sprawled lazily in the chair is the aging wizard Alric. His thin, weak frame is covered by a blanket, whatever hair he once had has long fled and his rhuemy old eyes seem dim. He twists his hawkish features into scowl as he sizes Quobbles up, "Well, what is it?"

"Well met, O venerable one.  Quobbles is my name, and I'm hoping for some information regarding the Halls.  Rumour has it you're looking for something in there-wherever "there" is-so I've come to talk business.  I am an expert in retrievals."

After he finishes up his delicious breakfast and gulps down the last of the strong local coffee, Donovan says to Aiden and Garth, "I hope you Gentlemen have a good morning, I'm off to the church to speak with Father Blind John."

Donovan then leaves and follows Aiden's direction into town to find the church complex.  He'll smile and greet anyone he sees on the streets on the way, and will have no problem to stop and ask someone for directions if the streets of the town are confusing.

Quobbles:
The wizard's eyes light up at the prospect of someone willing to fetch a something from the halls. "Ah.. Retrieval well that's a fine line of work, yes, and one I have a vested interest in at the moment" he pauses to left out a furious cough "you see if it is not apparent by my appearance I am working on shuffling off this mortal coil". He looks lost in thought for a moment but snaps back to reality "I am diseased you see, a sort of foul humor I picked when I was younger, exploring the ruins in the Styrian wastes far to the south. The details of it aren't important and you can't catch it, none the less it is slowly killing me. You see there is a peculiar species of moss that grows in the depths of the halls that has tremendous healing properties for infection. It is the whole reason I moved to this accursed excuse for a town."

He takes another pause to wheeze and sputter "When I was young I fetched it myself, from the forest that grows in the caverns down there, but I haven't been able to make the journey in years, my last expedition down nearly cost me a leg. The locals don't much care for the Halls, nor I suspect for me so they refuse my offers. My offer is this, fetch me a small satchel full of fire moss and I will reward you with 500gp, you will know it when you see it as it is bright red and warm to the touch".

Donovan:
You plod through the muddy streets easily enough, a few of the locals nod or tip their hats politely as you pass. Just shy of a half hour north on the main road takes you pas the gates of the keep where you then turn west. After a few more minutes walk the Temple complex is in sight. A stone wall surrounds the complex but the wrought iron gate is wide open. Stepping through you find yourself coming upon the chapel, a wide squat stone building with a tiled roof and stained glass windows depicting scenes from the lives of church saints. The great double doors are carved with a depiction of Ouros, sword and scales in hand shielding a frightens huddle of men and women from a horde of various humanoids. The doors are open a crack and stepping inside the chapel you see that either wall is lined with statues of the god in his various guises, whilst the center of the room is taken by rows of pews, the north end has a few raised steps leading to the alter.

Kneeling at the alter is a pudgy, aged man, his tonsured hair white and wispy. He cocks his head at the sound of your footfall "Oh.. Well come in I was just finishing my morning prayers, who might you be and what can I do for you?".

"Good morning, Father," Donovan says respectfully, "I am Father Donovan Nevalaps and I have been sent by the Church to aid you and your community during these troubling times of late.  May we speak of the troubles and how to deal with them?  Is there an office where we may have some privacy?"

John smiles, stands and motions toward a door behind the altar. Inside the room is a plain oak desk, behind is a chair which the father flops down in. He waves toward the chair opposite side of the desk. "I am afraid it is not much of an office, but I find offices are best for paper work something I am ill suited for" he grins and gestures toward his sightless eyes and makes a sweeping gesture of the room and its empty book shelfs.

His kindly, soft featured face then takes on a dark grimace. " I am glad the church sent you. Things aren't right here, man sized goblins, odd diseases, even the weather feels wrong. I think.. I think something is going on, and I expect that foul temple has something to do with it" he taps at the desk nervously. "Surely you have heard that some of the hunters have gone missing? Well it is no rumor, four have gone hunting and not come back. That itself is not so strange, there are dangerous creatures in the woods and from time to time a younger hunter does not return. These however were seasoned men and all have gone missing in the last month."

John lets out a heaving sigh "The chief is a stubborn old fool, he refuses to look into it. I think truth told he is nervous and does not want to spare any of his few men at arms". John cracks a somber smile "these are a tough people, used to hardship and scarcity. They won't panic and they won't react until I am afraid it may be too late".  He stands and walks to the rooms sole window, faces it and clasps his hands behind back "You know I have memorized every inch of this place and I swear I can feel it without yet knowing when something has been moved. Well I feel it, something has moved and things are out of place. Goblins of any sort are bad and disease is worse, but it was not those things that made me send for help."

John stretches and then moves back to his chair "As you know there is a mountain three days march north of here, small for a mountain, not even named. It houses what the locals call the Halls. They are in fact a temple built as near we can tell six hundred years ago, during the Long Troubles. It was built by a demon and his followers, a local spirit grown drunk with blood offerings and the power they gave. They secreted away in their temple for near two hundred years, then one day a party of adventures discovered the outer temple in ruins and the inside much the same. That was four hundred years ago, since Last Keep was founded one hundred and fifty years ago there has been the odd report of goblins and other strange things but still few have dared the Halls and fewer still have returned. We know that members of the the Brotherhood of the Black Circle, the followers who served the demon and kept his name secret have survived ....and changed. Not once however have they been seen outside their temple, until now that is. A month past an injured young woodsman came stumbling in here, he had escaped captivity within the halls, he claimed that a band of goblins lead by a Hobgoblin and a cultist captured him just south of the mountain. How he managed to escape I'll never know, he died just a few hours after arriving" John gives a solemn nod of his head.

The ex soldier gets up and is downstairs eating his breakfast with gusto and speed, and then leaves to go find the madman at the keep (?).  He is dressed in his armor in "almost ready to fight" state common for the long march, but his face is freshly washed and he is feeling pretty good this morning.

After a short trek north you find yourself outside the earth and timber walls of the keep. A brief explanation of your purpose sees you through the gate with no trouble and you quickly make your way across the court yard. Passing through the large double doors of the keep brings you into the main hall, a large open room with several hearths, all of which are burning brightly. Sitting at one of the many the many tables is mad old Uthred. He is jabbering at a several of the younger ment at arms, those who have not yet grown tired of his stories.

To Alric:  "Fire moss eh?  My kind also place great stock in curative botany. We'll soon get you up and running O your hoariness.  But please, tell me a little more about where within these Halls I would find the caverns housing this weird forest.  And what kind of beastie was it that nearly made off with your leg?"

Donovan nods his head silently in acknowlgment and says thoughtfully, "Garath told me of the troubles of late and I suspected they were inter-related and that the source was the Halls.  I have gathered a couple of outsiders who are willing to enter the Halls with me, and a local boy named Aiden.  Tell me Father, how can I counter Blood Magic if we must face it?  How can I de-sanctify the Black Circle's temple and alter if we discover it?"

After a momentary pause, he says in more worried tone, "what must I know about the demon that was summoned, or others like it, in case the Black Circle has done it again?  How can we defeat the summoned evils?"

Quobbles:
The wizard scratches at his chin a moment "Hmm, the forest, although swamp may be a more accurate description, is not directly accessible from the surface. I have heard that it can be entered from the old temple, but I always went in through the Goblin caverns, they used to allow passage for a fee. Who can say their disposition now? That was decades ago. The forest is dangerous, not a place I would recommend for the faint of heart. There is a tribe of Lizardfolk there, not the most pleasant bunch, it was one of their young ones that nearly did for my leg." He pauses a moment and coughs "I would recommend you search the upper levels first, everyone in that gods forsaken place knows of the fire moss, it may be that someone is keeping a stash. Would be a sight easier to bargain for it or pinch it than to go get it proper. Choice is yours though".

Donovan:
The father sighs once again "I can't say for sure how to undo their work. No one has ever provided much detail about the place. Typically blood magic requires some sort of foci, I would try to find out what, perhaps destroy it or them if their are more than one. As to the demon they summoned, like all others his true name holds some power over him and objects he has tainted. It may be worth trying to find out, though the Black Circle have guarded it well. Anything you find out though feel free to return to me with and perhaps together we can work out a solution." John looks thoughtful for a moment and then smiles " I don't know how true it is, but over the centuries some have said that the sight of a truly holy symbol gives some of the beasts there from the lower realms pause, wait here a moment".

He returns a few moments later and extends a a small pendant hung upon a chain toward you "Here take this, it is a true artifact of the blessed Saint Gwain, one of our brothers centuries passed, he was a renowned exorcist, it was given to me when I was much younger, when I still saw and had ambitions of being a holy warrior for our lord". He shakes his head slowly " I don't know if it truly has any power over demons, but if you are unlucky enough to come across one it can't hurt".

The pendant itself is a small thing made of silver and graven with an worn image of a long forgotten battle.

Brogar enters into the hall and makes his way over to sit down with the other young men. between stories, he wedges in a question about the evil temple and the forest, openly implying he is going there.

Brogar:

Your presence is greeted with an absent minded nod by the other men at arms.  When questioned about the Halls Uthred turns a wary eye toward you, his battered old features twisting into grimace that draws his wrinkled skin tight enough to reveal that the left side of his face sinks hideously into his skull. "Oh the Halls lad? Let me tell you that place is haunted it is. Old Sir Rollin, a great knight from the north died in there seeking glory. All he found was death" the old warrior drawls.

Uthred sits bolt up from his previous slouch, "I went there once, when I was no more than twenty. Aye it was just past my fortieth name day and I went delving in there looking to make myself rich. The ghost though he found me, tricky bastard led me straight into an ambush. Old Sir Rollin's spirit, promising jewels and gold lead me straight to a trap. Aye it was only his spirit that saved me when that tricky bastard of a goblin I hired lead me to that trap, he carried out he, the ghost anyhow."

He sighs and looks away dreamily for a moment "Aye, the Halls, lad I never went my self. Always wished I had though. They say an old knight haunts the place entombed there with his magic sword. Always wanted to go looking after it but never did."

Uthred pauses again a moment "Who.. Who are you? Did I ever tell you about the time I went exploring the halls?"

OOC: no sweat man, hope you get to feeling better

Quobbles nods solemnly.  "Well, sir, I am glad to see your illness has not affected your wit and coherence.  If fate's on my side, I'll have some of that moss for you soon."

He rises and bids the wizard farewell, returning to the Huntsman's Hangover.

Brogar listens to the man as long as he thinks any new information is forthcoming.  Then he looks around at the other young men at arms and says, "Well, I mean to go there and see for myself."  The look in his eyes is half challenge and half invitation.

Brogan:
Uthred rambling grows more and more off topic, until he is simply stringing words together nonsensically. Some of the young men at arms seem interested in exploring the Halls, other simple try to look as if they didn't hear you. One of the breaks the silence, "I'd go, but the Chief says we're not to waste our selfs exploring that place, I'm his sworn man so I can't break my oath. Sorry". The lean, gaunt faced young warrior looks genuinely crestfallen that he is missing this opportunity for gold and glory.

"It is also important to serve your master in good faith, friend.  May the Gods of hearth and home and of battle look after you all."  With this and other farewells, Brogar departs the keep and returns to the inn, ready for his lunch.  The luxury of two meals in the same place making him feel at once happy and a bit itchy around the feet.  He does not know that he was born under the stars of the god of wayfarers and that by all his wanderings as a soldier duty bound, this deity has triggered the wanderlust deep within his heart.

When he arrives at the inn he orders his meal and then sits down, his eyes open for anyone looking in need of adventure.  

Back at the inn:

"Hail Brogar the Longshank'd!  The locals are certainly interesting aren't they?"

Quobbles relays all he's been told about the wizard's need for fire moss.  

"I reckon this could be easy money.  All he wants is a satchel worth and apparently the goblins can be bargained with for passage.  All I worry is that our party might be a bit small, even with Aiden."

He looks around doubtfully and a loud growling is heard from above his belt.

"Do you think we should wait for the Father for lunch, or...?"

"He may have been invited to eat with his brother priest, Quobbles.  He will not mind if we go ahead in either case.   I learned a little about the threats that may await us, as well as the situation of this local lord."  The fighter goes on to explain all he heard at the keep, trying to be careful in his details.

Quobbles orders the heartiest thing being served.

"You know, it seems we have a variety of options in these creepy Halls.  I say we set off first thing on the morrow, and discuss where exactly to explore while we're on the journey.  After all, it mayn't be long before another party gets wind of these juicy rumours and beats us there."

A lanky, looking young man enters the Hangover, and eyes both of you at the table.
Glancing about he mutters “still the same…”
Brushing absently at his mud streaked and battered armor, he Strides over to the table and pauses, staring intently at Brogar.
“Are you the old guy looking for trouble up at the Halls? Uthred said you might be going, and if you are then I want in.”
Without waiting for invitation, he pulls up a chair.

“My name is Ari, and my uncle Hrothgar is one of the missing hunters…"

"We'll I would not claim to be old at twenty summers," Brogar says, but we do aim to go up and have a look, yes."
He looks the slightly younger man over and nods.
"You look like you will do, alright, but we have another that is going with us and we shall likely see him before long, here. Mister Quabbles, what do you think?"

"I like his front.  Can you handle a sword, Ari?"

Nodding at Quobbles, "Aye, I can. And speaking on that, I have a small problem."

He pulls his sword and drops it on the table. A jagged mess, its missing all but the first six inches of it's length. (OOC - my "Dagger".)

"I haven't lived here since I was a child, and have no idea where I can buy another. I'll need a bow and some arrows as well, and the lot will likely clean out my coin, if these things can be had."

"I guess we'll go have a look about after lunch, if the innkeeper has nothing on hand to suit."

Donovan enters the common room of the Hangover and walks over to the where his companions are having lunch.

As he easies into a chair he says cheerfully, "good afternoon, friends."

He looks to the man and introduces himself, "hello, I am Father Nevalaps.  Please call me by my given name, Donovan."

"Ah, see there he is! Donovan, this young fellow wants to join our assay."

"It is good to meet you Donovan. My uncle Hrothgar is one of the hunters recently gone missing near the Halls. I hope to learn his fate when we journey there. If you will have me along, I will work hard to be a trusty companion."

"But in the meantime, I find myself in dire need of a Longsword and Bow. Some arrows would be nice as well."

Turning towards the bar, "Ho! Gareth Cutpurse! Have you a sword, bow, and some arrows for sale??"

Gareth pauses at the sound of his name "Weapons aren't really my area of commerce. There is an armorer down the street that keeps the hunters an trapper tooled up for dealing with the wilds, you might try there". He looks thoughtful for a moment "I believe his name is Erik, can't miss his shop though, got a crossefd sword painted on the doors".

Nodding to those at the table, "I you will excuse me, I will pop down and see  Erik straight away."

With that he strides out and heads down to the Armorer's shop.

Opening the door sporting the sign of the crossed blades he looks about in the shop.

Once Ari leaves and it's just the three of them he drops his voice lower so that just they can hear and says, "it is worse than I feared.  The Black Circle is active again.  The demon worshiping cultist are using some form of Blood Magic.  They are behind the hunters' disappearances according to Father John.  We must be prepared for anything when we seek the Halls."

"Well this will be fun, then," says Brogar.

Donovan says in a resolute tone and demeanor, "I must find the unholy temple and altar and destroy them and break the Black Circle's power here for good."

Ari:

The shop is a small timber building, with a low thatched roof. The walls are hung with all manner of swords and axes, there are racks of spears, and tables covered in various pieces of metal armors ranging from chain to plate. There are also many bows ranging from long to short.

Erik is muscular plug of a man, with beady eyes and a jutting jaw. He nods in greeting "I got all sorts of sharp and pointy things, and all kinds of things to keep other folks sharp and pointies outta yer hide. Let me know what strikes your fancy".

Nodding, Ari paces about the room looking at various items.

Eventually he lays a Longsword with scabbard, a Long bow, and a quiver with 40 arrows out on the counter.

"Erik, these will do for me."

After paying for all his purchases (including some rations, spikes, rope, backpack, waterskin, oil at the local shops), he heads back to the inn to meet up with the others.

Quobbles:

"Pffft.  'Anything' is my middle name.  I'm not scared of any Blood Magic, and I'd be honoured to fight by your side Donovan.  I was just discussing with Brogar that we would do well to leave as soon as possible-how does first thing tomorrow morn sound to you?"

Donovan nods affirmatively toward Quobbles as he says, "yes, we should leave just before dawn.  Is Aiden ready to go as well?"

Aiden steps into the Hangover just in time to hear his name "Aye I am ready, I reckon I will just stay in the common room here tonight that way it will be easier for us to be out by dawn". He hoists a pack off of his shoulders and gives it a hearty pat "Had to get my gear ready, it's a rough march there as the road goes nowhere near the mountain and its like as not any easier once we are there".

Aiden is now wearing a coat of leather armor over his simple green tunic, an iron cap on his head and a small shield strapped to his pack for the moment. In one hand he carries a spear. He eyes the spear up and down "Only ever used it for sticking boar, but I figure the principle is the same for anything else, the armor belonged to my pa gods rest him, never thought I'd have need of it".

He nods at Quobbles "Thank ya for the advance master Quobbles, otherwise I wouldn't a had a torch, rope, or this handy new sling to take along" he grins and shows the sling he has wrapped up his forearm. "The old one was getting a but frayed, I was worried it'd break when I need it most".

"The spear!  Rightly famed across the known lands for it's versatility and sturdiness, and my own weapon of choice.  You'll go far, Aiden, I can tell.  Your main duty, at least at first, will be carrying this sack and my quarrels.  I might also have you on crossbow reloading duty in stickier situations."

OOC:  The sack contains the wineskin, rope, mirror, rations, and all of Quobbles' remaining gold, but there's no need for Aiden to look inside it unless he's told.

Unless there's any other business the others can think of I suppose the rest of the day will be spent checking the gear, peering up at the weather, and getting an early night.  I'll also run through with Aiden how to wind the crossbow reliably and quickly.

Ari arrives back at the Hangover, now armed with Sword and Bow, and sporting a new backpack.

"Whenever we are ready to go, I am now ready."

Ari glances about at the rest of the party. “Good people, concerning our order of march, I would suggest that master Quobbles take point. He strikes me as a good scout and his shorter stature will set the speed of march for the rest of us.

Next, Brogar and I can walk side-by-side and screen Donovan traveling behind us, with Aiden bringing up the rear. Does this seem okay?"

Donovan nods in approval at Ari's suggestion and says pleasantly, "well and good, Ari."

His demeanor becomes more serious as he continues, "Ari, I feel that you should know what we maybe facing on this excursion.  Father John suspects that your uncle and the other hunters were taken by Black Circle cultists, and that the hobgoblins and goblins maybe allied with the cultists.  We must find their unholy  altar and temple and destroy them once and for all."

Lowering his voice to a whisper, "Donavon, neither my uncle, nor any of the other hunters, would go near the Halls willingly! They knew the place was damned!

But uncle Hrothgar used to tell me tales of the place when I was a child. He spun me a story on how the demon priests used to get sacrifices. He said they used a magic set of pipes; he called them "The Pipes of Madness", and said that hearing these pipes could drive a man mad, obedient to the priest's will, like a puppet on a string.

I fear that the hunters may have very well been lured by these ancient cursed pipes that perhaps some new priests have found! Uncle Hrothgar told me that the pipes, when not in use, rested on a pedestal next to a great black altar in the heart of the evil one's temple. If those pipes are being indeed being used, then they must be destroyed else more and more of the community be lured to their doom!

I can only pray that my uncle had a merciful death, and have dedicated myself solely to his vengence."

Donovan nods his sadly and says, "that is dire news indeed, but most helpful to us and our cause.  You're right in that we destroy the 'Pipes of Madness' as well."

Speaking to all his companions at the table, Donovan says as he rises up out of seat, "with this new information, I must make an important purchase before we leave at dawn's first light on the morrow.  If you'll excuse me, Gentlemen."

Donovan walks over to the bar and asks Gareth in a casual and friendly tone, "excuse me, Gareth, but do you know where, or from whom, I could purchase a whistle in town?"

Gareth looks befuddled a moment "A whistle? Err I have an old one ya can have if you want. I can't think of a use for it. Truth told I'm not even sure how I came by it".

He disappears into his office behind the bar a moment and then returns "Hope you find some use for it". He extends a small metallic whistle to Donovan.

Donovan smiles wide genuinely as he accepts the whistle from Gareth and says sincerely, "thank you, Master Cutpurse.  I hope it will come of no use on this endeavor, but if I have need of it then it just may give us the edge we will need in facing our enemies."

Father Nevalaps walks back over the table with his companions and sits down with a big grin on his face.  He takes out a small piece of twine from his pouch and makes a necklace for the whistle and loops it around his neck when finished.

Looking to his companions, he says in a pleased tone, "I hope that I will not have to use this whistle, but if we encounter the Pipes of Madness I will blow on this hard in an attempt to counter the pipes' sound."

Quobbles shakes his tiny head.

"At the same time as I do not attempt to understand the ways of priests, I also try my hardest not to judge.  The way I see it, a holy man acts according to his creed and it isn't the secular man's place to persecute him for it."

Ari gulps, "I hope it will be enough."

"If the Halls are as vast as rumor has described then perhaps it would profit us to plan for a campsite, hidden, but close to them. It could save us a great deal of walking, especially if wounded. And if the cultists are in league with goblins any roads in the area are likely being watched. Venturing to the Halls through the roughest terrain might avoid some ambushes. Perhaps we should slip away from town before daybreak to avoid watchful eyes."

"That is a prudent and sound course of action, Ari," Donovan says contemplatively.

Ari flushes, and with an awkward kid's grin says quietly, "Thank you Father Donovan."

The night passes quietly. Dawn creeps in with a chill and a dreary overcast sky seems to hang just overhead. A fine misting of rain is falling and the locals are already grumbling about the winters early arrival over cups of warm cider in the dining area of the Hangover. Aiden sits at a corner table intently discussing the best method of approach to the halls with a shaggy mountain of a man.

Quobbles, gear fully packed and ready, walks up to Aiden, handing him the sack.  He nods briefly up to the man-mountain, but is clearly in a hurry to set off.

"Ready to go then?"

Ari slings his pack and heads out the door to await the others outside.

After quietly saying his morning devotions, Donovan packs his gear quickly and goes downstairs to meet his new companions.

"Alright, Gentlemen," he says cheerfully, "I am ready."

Ari falls into the marching order next to Brogar.

"Okay then, I guess we are off."

You begin your march out of town. A mere hours march north along the road takes you to the edge of town. The sun is up in earnest now, though it is hard to tell through gray haze and thin drizzle of rain that is falling. Aiden pauses a moment "I was talking to that gent in the Hangover back there and he said the best way about it was to make off the road and march straight north. The road would just take us outta our way as it cuts north east instead of true north. Either way we got three days hard march ahead of us."

He gives a everyone a steady gaze "Off the road is likely to be dangerous though, the wildlife is none to friendly, wolves, bears, wild cats you name it. Course if the tales are true then worse could be lurking about". He looks thoughtful for a moment "Also when we get there from what I have gathered we have two avenues of approach, we can go through the Goblins holdfast in the caverns which is lower down the mountain on its east side. Or we could go through the temple entrance itself which is further up and on the west side, I just figured we should have a game plan".

Ari rolls his eyes and stamps his foot!  "WHAT A CHOICE!!!  WHAT IN THE GO.."

A quick glance at Donovan causes him to check his rising emotion and choke back his words.

He sighs and in a much softer tone, "Perhaps its better to make straight for the Halls. We could spend days hacking our way through Goblins if things go badly for us. As well, they could send runners and alert the cult of our pending arrival."

Giving Donovan a sidelong glance, "But I will follow the lead of the good Father."

Donovan says thoughtfully, "since we all have come to Last Keep, we have moved fast and purposefully.  As far as we know, we still have the element of surprise against the cultists of the Black Circle.  If we can enter their temple undetected, then I think we can overwhelm them.  I say we enter through the temple and deal with the goblinoids after we fell the cultists power base."

Ari nods, "Surprise is our only asset. The cultist and their allies outnumber us 10 to 1. But they must defend all they hold, while we can strike where we wish - once inside. It will be a stern test and I fear we will have little time for rest."

Squatting down he smiles at Quobbles, "Small friend, It will be up to you to be our eyes and ears as we go forward. I will back you with both sword and bow as best I can."

He grins as an idea strikes his fancy, and turning murmers, "Donovan, perhaps you can loan for a time your whistle to master Quobbles? If he is scouting far ahead and ambushed, its shrill warning may buy us enough time to save him. And, if the black cultists attempt to use the Pipes of Madness on him perhaps the whistle's shriek will disrupt their power."

"This is what I am made for.  I say we cut directly North, off the track-I can move swiftly and silently enough to avoid any immediate danger in the wilderness.  

As far as entry to the Halls- I would have suggested bargaining with the moronic goblinoids rather than hacking a way through, but I seem to be outvoted in any case.  I leave it up to the group.  If you think we can deal with the cultists, so be it."

He looks at Donovan- "I can be careful with the whistle.  I'll scout, say, ten minutes ahead, how does that sound to everyone?"

Aiden shrugs "Makes no nevermind to me, either way most of the approach is the same, we can always revisit the issue when we are closer". The party continues forward, after the outskirts of town end you shift off the road heading straight north. The area is sparsely wooded and a creek runs to your west headed south toward town. By mid day the ground is beginning to rise slightly and the woods have become thick, the ground is damp and thick tangling briar bushes wrap around the base of many of the trees.

As evening approaches the clouds have thickened, and a steady rain is starting to fall. The chill is increasing and the forest has grown to an incredible thickness and its canopy has begun to smother all vestiges of the failing light. The creek babbles gently nearby and from time to time the distant rustling of wildlife can be heard. It is hard to escape the sensation that the forest is watching you.

Breaking into an easy grin Ari Chortles, “HA! My friend, I would fear greatly to have you treat with any Goblin! You know how… toothsome… they find your folk!”

Still smiling, he coughs and wipes an eye, “No, I am of one mind with the good Father. Let us avoid such merriment!”

“I am no proper tracker, but if you blaze me an easy trail I can follow well enough I reckon, but return to us before the light fails so that none of us get lost.”



Later, that evening:  Ari whispers to the others, "Should we rest, or press on? It's dark and wet, so we will be miserable either way. What say you all?"

He wrings water from his cloak and hisses, "Blast! I'm soaked to the bone!"

Quobbles bears the jibes with good humour, not mentioning his recent experience with far larger and more fearsome humanoids.

Falling back along the last few blazes in the rain, he rejoins the party.  

"If there's no objection, I say we rest.  The forest ahead grows ever thicker, and while I'm confident of my own footing, I'd rather not risk all our necks.  Lets wait til morning.  I'll take first watch.  Aiden, help me gather some firewood."

He munches some rations as he roves around.

Ari helps put together a simple meal then turns in for the night.

"Wake me when its my turn" he yawns before closing his eyes.

Donovan makes camp with the others despite a weary day of travel.

As they were discussing watch order, he says, "I will take last watch with Aiden.  Brogar, will you take third?  That leaves second watch for Ari."

Ari stands his watch, shivering from the cold and wet.

The watches of the night slip past without note. Morning comes gray and bleak, the ground is a wretched mire of mud and today promises to be no warmer than the last.

The party sets forth again, though between the muddy ground and thick forest the going is slow at best.

Around midday the forest is at its thickest and the ground has become hilly.

Over the past day and a half you have grown accustom to the sounds of wildlife, but now the sudden distinct impression comes that something sounds off. A rustling that is too loud perhaps? What a moment ago sounded like the faint babbling of the creek just to your west, sounds suddenly as though it might be hushed voices.

OOC:  Quobbles will run back a couple of minutes, blaze a sign on a convenient tree indicating for the group to wait, and sneak forward and to the West using his halfling wilderness affinities to to see if he can verify that it's voices.

Quobbles:
You move north and west like a shadow amongst the trees. The sounds grow much more auidble and you can infact verify that its voices. Three perhaps four distinct voices can be heard, one human and the others speaking the common tounge in the grating and harsh accent of one of the goblinoid species.

Quobbles strains an ear to determine if he can pick out any of their conversation.

OOC:  How far away do they sound?

Quobbles:
It is hard to make out much in the way of specifics, but from what you can catch there seems to be an arugment over who a captive belongs to. They sound as if they may be just another 30 or so yards ahead and to the west, putting them right beside the creek. They cant be seen yet though, as the forest is dense.

Ari pauses at the sign of the three slashes.

Turning to Donovan he quietly points at the sign then quickly strings his bow.

Quobbles steals back to the party as quick as he reasonably can without making too much noise.

"Goblins-or goblinoids.  There seems to be a man with them as well, bickering about a captive of some sort.  We can't let them parade around willy-nilly depriving people of their freedom, that could be any of us one day.  I say we step in.  

It sounded like there were about four total.  I reckon we've just got the advantage, and I doubt they'd pursue us if things went badly, they wouldn't abandon their captive. "

In determined tone Donovan says, "our duty is clear.  Lead us to them."

Quobbles takes his mirror out of the sack that Aiden carries.

OOC: Is there any sunshine?  You can see where I'm going with this.

Leading the party, in a hushed whisper:

"How does this sound?  I'll move forward with my crossbow loaded, and scale a tree to where I can see them.  I'll fire at the strongest, at the same time as Aiden opens up with his sling.  Then I'll blow the whistle to signal attack-our melee experts can move in while I dazzle the eyes of the enemy with this mirror and the light from old Father Sunshine."

OOC: The clouds are starting to thin some with a few breaks apparent, so yes there would be some sunlight.

Aiden unwinds the sling from his wrist and nods a solemn agreement to Quobbles plan.

Unless there's no objections from the others* Quobbles and Aiden move forward as agreed.  

OOC:  Quobbles will scale a tree to height of around 25 ft, remaining in cover of the boughs-it'd be nice to be in a position to claim the short range bonus for a crossbow, as well as the +2 (DEX bonus+halfling bonus).

*Prepared to wait til the other guys have their say about the plan.

Donovan nods in agreement quietly.

Ari nods and turns to the good Father, "I will fire my bow once on the way in, before we come to blows with the enemy."

He then quietly moves up with the others to the jump-off position and awaits the whistle blast.

OOC: Given halflings extraordinary stealth abilities in wooded areas it should be no problem to move to the position you described unseen, so yes I would say that you can claim the short range bonus as well. Given that Quobbles will be making the opening attack from a concealed position a surprise roll will not be needed as the opponents shall surely be caught unawares.  

Quobbles: You move swiftly toward the noise, once within sight you find a suitable tree and scale up the first sturdy looking bough at the desired height. Aiden moves slightly behind you and crouches in a thicket of bushes close to the base of the trees. Now in plain view you see that there are three hobgoblin and one man in heavy black robes, they are about sixty feet from you standing a few feet from the creek. The hobgoblins appear to be arguing with the robed figure about the fate of a young man who is bound and gagged, he is sitting just a few feet from the rest and appears to be whole though obviously roughed up.

One of the hobgoblins is carrying a crossbow, another a mace, and the third a scimitar. The third is slightly larger than the others. They are wearing uniform tunics of a bright red, and shoddy patchwork trousers.

Donovan readies his mace and shield and prepares to sally forth at the signal.

Hiding just inside the cover of the treeline, Ari carefully draws a bead on the large Goblin brandishing the Scimitar. He waits for Quobbles to fire first and blow the whistle. His arm trembles slightly as he waits with the bow at maximum draw.

He murmers, "For what we are about to receive may we be truly grateful!"

He hisses to Donovan, "WHEN???? What's he waiting for???"

Lying along a sturdy bough, Quobbles aims down at the big hobgoblin and fires his crossbow.

To hit. 1d20: 17+3=20

Damage.  1d6: 1

Laying down the crossbow, he reaches for his whistle and emits a piercing blast.

OOC:  Great first rolls to test out that honour system haha!

Also, pbj44, apologies for delay, I'm based in the UK.

The hobgoblin screeches in pain as the bolt drives into his flesh! The other two hobgoblins and the robed man are transfixed in surprise.

Aiden steps forward a split second later and looses a bullet from his sling.

To Hit 1d20: 1

The bullet whizzes far of off its intended course and Aiden snarls a curse.

Ari looses his shot!

D20 =16+1=17 h
D8 = 4 d (if I hit)

Ari drops his bow and charges, drawing his sword as he goes!

OOC- No worries Andrew! Ari is just flaunting his Wisdom score! Things are about to go badly I think!

Regards

Phil

Ari:
Your arrow finds a home in the hobgoblins flesh with a thud. Its looks unsteady on its feet for a second, but remains upright, though obviously injured seriously.

Ari:
Your arrow finds a home in the hobgoblins flesh with a thud. Its looks unsteady on its feet for a second, but remains upright, though obviously injured seriously.

OOC: I assume you were aiming for the largest as well?

Brogar charges forward, his spear held at the ready, his shield coming up as he closes to attack range on the surprised hobgoblins.

OOC - Yep, the big boy was my target as well, and he is my initial target during melee. Charging with the rest of the fellows now with sword and shield ready!

Scared to death of the impending combat, Donovan grits his teeth and sallies forth at the whistle's shriek.  He runs as fast as he can to close the distance and charges directly for the man in the black robes with shield up and mace in hand.  He screams as he charges in for effect in an attempt to appear more fearsome and make the enemies think that they are overwhelmed.

====================

OOC:  first attack was a horrible miss!  With his negative STR mod he rolled a -1, lol.

http://rolz.org/myroomlog?r=Megadungeon+Campaign

As Ari catches up to Donovan, he shouts, "COURAGE FATHER, COURAGE!!"

Everything drifts down into slow motion as the wobbling huge Goblin now gains 6 inches in height for each meter that the distance is closed.

His mind reels, "WHY WON'T THAT MAN QUIT SCREAMING???"

The thought vanishes as he realizes that the ragged shouting is coming from himself...

OOC: everyone has completed their actions for the turn correct?

Ari, Donovan, and Brogar have closed the distance in a furious charge. The startled foes have gathered their wits and pick their targets for the melee to come.

The largest of the Hobgoblins brings his scimitar down in a wild overhead slash at Ari. (17)

The scimitar rends through the armor and flesh of the skull
(1d8= 5)

The second of the Hobgoblins takes a round house swing with his mace, hoping to be add Brogar to his list of victims. (2) His swing goes wild as Brogar nimbly leans out of the way.

The Hobgoblin armed with a crossbow levels and brings Aiden into his sights. (18) His bolt pierces Aidens leather armor and bites into the flesh beneath (1d6=2)

A robed figure eyes the father warily and lashes out with a concealed dagger (17). The dagger tears a gouge in the Father (1d4= 2)

OOC: Ugh rough first round. You can take over Aiden if you like, or simply roll up another and I have a few ideas about how to get him in, whichever suits you pbj44.

ooc: And here I thought I would be the first PC to go down.\

Brogar ends his charge by (7) plunging the spear just past the Hobgoblin into thin air.  He takes a bit to recover his balance as he defends himself with the shield as well as he can (normal ac3).  He has seen so many men go down in such battles that the fall of Ari does not yet have its emotional impact.

Donovan screams, "NO!"

He rushes to Ari's crumpled forms and falls to his knees next to him.  Disregarding his own safety, he begins reciting a rushed spell prayer.

===========

Round 2 action:  cast cure light wounds spell on Ari.  If he gets it off he heals back 4 HP.

http://rolz.org/myroomlog?r=Megadungeon+Campaign

Ari flees down dimly lit halls with the great orb of light in close pursuit. He is frantic to find the exit that he senses is near, an exit that fills those senses with its cool healing balm.

Aiden loads another of the smooth stone bullets into the slings pouch. He aims for the Hobgoblin with the crossbow. "Heres one for you ya bastard!" he screams. (14)

The bullet slams into the Hobgoblins skull with a tremendous force, shattering it with a sickening thud. It drops, dead as the stone that took it. (1d4 = 4)

2nd round:  Quobbles hurls his spear at the large hobgoblin, the one that dropped Ari.

OOC:  Is it too late for that Cure Light Wounds to help Ari?  I hope not!

Attack, 1d20+3: 15+3

Damage, 1d6: 6!

Eyes still closed, Ari grasps Donovan's hand...

Quobble's spear catches the largest of the Hobgoblins flush in in the chest, skewering him where he stands. He goes to his dark gods with a look of astonishment on his face.

With half of their number slain the remaining hobgoblin and the cultist, make a quick assessment of their chances. (Morale Check 2d6=10). They decide that their is slim chance of surviving this battle and they flee, running at a Full retreat.

They run their full movement rate of 90ft. They are now easier targets, with a +1 chance to hit them.

Without the interference of your foes the Fathers Cure Light Wounds spell succeeds. A bright light comes forth from his hands and washes over Ari's damaged form. The wounds begin to close and his breathing evens out, suddenly his eyes snap open. (4hp restored)

Ari sits up gasping, "Donovan, I made it back!"

He shakes his hand, "Thank you for saving my life..."

He struggles to his feet, and glances at the Goblinoid and fleeing cultist, the latter's robes flapping crazily as he runs.

"Crap, no good will come from their escape. Still, we did save a life, now we should see whom we've saved."

"What say you my friend?"

"Praise be to Ouros!" Donovan says fervently as he feels the divine power course through his vessel and enter Ari and his eyes flutter open with life again.

As the combat dissolves around him and Ari, Donovan leaves it to his companions and gently helps Ari rise to his feet and stand before he turns to look at the prisoner.

Once he is sure that Ari is firm on his feet, Donovan moves over to the figure and starts unbinding him quickly.

"Do no fret," he says to the bound man, "we are friends."

Brogar casts his spear at the cultist as he flees.
d20 = 15
d6 = 5

Brogars spear finds a home between the fleeing cultists shoulder with a thud. He tumbles head over heels with the impact, slain.

"There's your reward for villainy!"
Brogar draws his sword and trots up to the fallen foe.

Ari cheers in delight at Brogar's wonderful spear cast! He then turns to get a closer look at the cultist's hostage.

Aiden load yet another bullet and looses at the remaining hobgoblin. (1d20=6 -1 for range 5)

The stone sails far off the mark. He lets out a cry "Blast!"

Brogar: You find the cultist face down and bloody, he is obviously dead.

Ari decides to collect his bow before talking to the hostage, leaving the honor to Donovan to begin.

The captive is a wiry young man with straw blonde hair. One eye is swollen and blacked and he his obviously bruised and battered. Somewhat shakily he nods at the Father "Thank you, I thought for sure I was a dead man. The cultists wanted sacrifice me, and the Hobgoblins wanted me for some sort of arena. They argued endlessly over how I was to die."

Brogar retrieves and cleans the spear on the cultists skirts and then begins to search him.

Donovan looks him over for any serious injuries with a cursory glance and says,"are you from Last Keep?  How and where you captured?  I am Father Donovan Nevalaps and these are my stalwart companions; Quobbles, Ari, Brogar, and Aiden."

Quobbles nods to the hostage: "Well met."

He looks nervously over his shoulder.

"Does anyone else think it might be a good idea to get after that last HobGob, and stop him setting up a welcoming committee at The Halls?"

Ari arrives back in time to hear Quobbles's question.

He shakes his head, "I am not sure how much danger we are in, seeing as how these two factions were bickering. Besides, we are still two days from the Halls, they cannot yet divine our purpose. Perhaps we are merely a travelling circus troup!"

Eying the tree line, "But, I think we can count on the fact that our fleeing friend will return as quick as he can with a lot of his comrades. Perhaps we should make like a tree – and leaf! I would not like a hoard of Goblins dogging our steps to the very Halls themselves!"

Turning to Donovan, "What say you Father?"

Brogar:
Your find a small note written in the common tounge "Do not let them take this one back to their holdfast in the goblin caverns. Their contract allows them only a small portion of captives and they have got greedy. We are paying them a small fortune, see that they do as they are told. We only need them until we can reclaim the monastery and find a way to control the Death Knights, then we shall show Gog and his band the price of arrogance."

Also upon the course you find a small pouch that contains 5gp and 10sp. He is also wearing a small amulet, a black circle carved of onyx.

Donovan:
The captive nods "My name is William, yes I am from Last Keep. They came upon me when I was sleeping two days ago, I was out hunting. I am not sure where I was in relation to here though, we got lost. The robed man said we should go one way the hobgoblins did the opposite just outta spite."

Quobbles clicks his fingers gleefully upon hearing Brogar read out the note.

"Sounds like dissent in the ranks of evil!  This should be a walkover.  Death Knights?  Childish natter."

He prises the spear out of the mutilated hobgoblin.  

"William, if you'll care to join us,  I say we press on immediately.  It's time for you to revenge yourself.  You might take this."

He hefts the scimitar and passes it to the battered man.

Quobbles then spits in a non-committal manner.

"And if nobody wants that worthless looking onyx trinket, I could do with making myself look pretty."

"Everyone, grab what you can and we should leave the area immediately," Donovan says as he assesses the situation.

Looking to the hunter he says, "it is best if you come with us away from the immediate area, William.  Then you can decide your course of action."

"Quobbles," Donovan says, "find us a quick way out of this area please.  We'll follow your lead."

Brogar picks up what he can before working a few quick moments to wreck whatever the party does not pick up.  He mutters a few words about not leaving the enemy usable stuff and the gods of good being good to them all.

Ari takes the one Hobgoblin's crossbow and bolts and offers them to William, "Friend, I think these will be needed before you are safely home again."

He then slings his backpack and falls back into the marching order in front of Donovan.

Quobbles puts his crossbow on his back, his spear back in its loop, pockets the onyx bauble and then steals forward into the undergrowth ahead of the party with his dagger in hand.  He creeps warily forward, blazing trunks as he goes.

OOC:
Your pilfering of the corpses of your fallen foes reveals a total of 20gp and a small good and ruby ring found on the largest of the Hobgoblins, it is worth 50gp. This is to be divided however seems best. Each party member gains 70xp for the treasure found, and 40xp for opponents killed.

IC:
(Recruiting roll 10) William declines the offer to press forward with the group. "I don't want to go from the frying pan into the fire. I'll take one of those spears and make my way back to town and warn the others, maybe I can prevent more from getting snatched."

Otherwise the group presses forward with Quobbles in the lead. The forest is thick and the going slow, however other than the odd sound of wildlife nothing seems amiss. You advance until the days light begins to fail bringing you to the end of your second day toward the mountain.

Quote from: Arkansan;679364William declines the offer to press forward with the group. "I don't want to go from the frying pan into the fire. I'll take one of those spears and make my way back to town and warn the others, maybe I can prevent more from getting snatched."

Donovan nods his head in agreement and says solemly, "may the light and blessings of Ouros guide your path back home, William."

Ari nods goodbye to William and as the party begins it's march again, offers the crossbow and bolts to Donovan.

"Father, will you accept these then? We may need the extra fire power. Indeed, without our archery efforts in this most recent battle it might have gone much worse for us. I would feel better if you had them."

Donovan shakes his head negatively as he says to Ari, "no, I cannot use that weapon.  My vows to the Church of Ouros forbid it."

A smile crosses his face as he continues to say in a positive tone, "although, I wager that weapon would be better served in the hands of Aiden.  He seems to have a natural talent for hand-eye coordination and projectiles."

Aiden smiles eagerly "I wouldn't mind giving it a go. I am afraid my sling may be a bit underpowered for our plans".

Ari smiles, "Take it and use it well!"

"I'd be happy to give you a pointer or two," says Brogar as they walk.

Assuming nothing else occurs, Quobbles offers to take first watch.

"I wish that young William had stuck with us", he grumbles.  

"Hopefully we'll reach the halls tomorrow...I'd forgotten how much I liked putting the wind up goblin-kin."

Aiden gladly accepts Brogar's offer for a few tips with his new weapon, "I have never shot one of the things, but the principle can't be that much different than a sling I wouldn't think."

Night has fallen, giving the party it's last reprieve before they reach the mountain tomorrow and begin the short trek part way up the mountain to the entrance of the Halls.

The night passes without note. Dawns light creeps in and though it promises more sun than the previous two days the wind blows in sharp and cold. The forest here is still and almost lifeless, as if anticipating some horror in the distance.

Quobbles heads off first thing in the morning as before.  

"As soon as I sight the base of the mountain, I'll wait for everyone to catch up.  I'll look for somewhere with a nice bit of cover-once we've convened, it's time to talk about our way in."

"I cannot be sure, but from what we've learned and shared, the cultists might be softer than the gobs.  That and the gobs might have kept tight on the fight yesterday," he pauses for a moment, recollecting, "However, they would be missing their guy and his captive, and they might have some kind of mystic support."

Ari nods at Quobbles' words as the Halfling trots off.

Turning to Brogar, he smiles, "Well, we best hope that we arrive before they start wondering about their man's whereabouts. Blast! We should have grabbed his robes! That could've set up an easy ruse to get us right in their door none the wiser."

He sighs and walks over to Donovan.

As Donovan rises he pats his shoulder, "Not too much further now Father and we can give those creaky bones of yours a rest! Hmm...mine too for that matter! Oh well, -  bacon, biscuits and coffee are on the fire."

Once everyone is up and fed he takes pains to conceal their campsite before falling into the marching order and moving out.

As you march you slowly realize that the mountain has began to rear up in your line of sight. Within a few hours of setting off for the morning the ground has begun to rise rather sharply and the going slows as the way becomes not only heavily forested but rocky as well. Mid day brings you to what could be considered the base, though it is hard to tell as the elevation has been increasing slowly for hours.

Aiden pauses, breathes on his clasped hands for warmth and then shields his eyes from the sun as he casts his gaze upward. "Well if we are going for the halls themselves then we will be snaking westward as we climb. Considering one of them got away from our encounter then we had best be wary. Between the vegetation and the rocks there are plenty of good spots for an ambush" he mutters through nervously clinched teeth.

Ari nods to Aiden, "This is good advice."

Turning to the others, "It is very hard to know our next step until we can see the entrance to the Halls and can form a real plan. I would suggest that we proceed as we have, with Quobbles at point to warn us of ambush. We can then have a more productive talk when our eyes are on the Halls themselves."

He glances about and shivers, "It feels like a snowfall is due soon."

Once the peak seems appropriately close, Quobbles asks Aiden to point out where he thinks the entrance might be.

"I become impatient to discover these snivelling Blood Magic cultists, or whatever their wind-blown appellation is."

Ari nods, "Come back to us in one piece my friend."

Aiden scans the area slowly "We aren't far, the way will wind up for another hour and then we should round a bend. There we will find a path with statues on either side that will lead us to an ampitheater carved of the local stone, there we will find a grand stairway that leads down". He gives a nervous grin "suppose we aren't far from our moment of truth are we?"

Stoically continuing his march, Brogar looks a little winded by the climb of the morning.  Only his soldier's discipline keeps him from falling out of formation and having a sit-down.  He is more and more using his spear as a walking staff till the shod foot of it is bright with rock scars.

Ari nudges Brogar, "Give me that, old man."

He slings Brogar's pack. "Give your back a rest my friend."

Brogar makes as to keep his pack, but hands it over gratefully at last.

Ari Frowns as they work their way up to the bend, "Hmm...Quobbles should be back by now...what's going on?"

OOC:  Did Quobbles find the statues at the path that Aiden mentioned?

Quobbles:
As you round the bend you are greeted by two large statues of a robed humanoid figure. The figure is hooded, there are no facial feature carved and the arms are held out with the hands joining fingers in a mock circle.

Behind these two statues are two rows of statues that sit about 10 feet apart. They take all sorts of horrid forms, some in mockery of men or beasts, others alien all togther.

In between these rows lie a freshly beaten foot trail. Obviously the result of high traffic.

The trail is perhaps 50 yards long, at the end of it is a small circular building of carved stone blocks, it sits in a small valley between two large outcrops. An ancient coat of some sort of black wash is fading from its walls.  

OOC: Sorry I have been running a bit behind guys, I had a temp job for a bit of extra cash the last two days that was running me crazy. Things are buisness as usual again now so we should be running smothly again.

Quobbles peers down the weird avenue, trying to discern points of entry to the circular building.

Without entering into the avenue, he tries to discern the nature of some of the stranger statues.  Could a figure easily be concealed in the spaces between these horrid carvings?  Surely the cult would not leave the entrance totally unguarded.

After this he returns to the party to report his findings.

Ari listens intently as Quobbles describes the layout of the entrance to the Halls,

"Quobbles, you are the best at searching. Can you possibly search the surrounding area, near the entrance of the Halls, for an secret alternate entrance? This would also be a great time to find a well concealed spot for our base camp."

He looks around the group, "What say all of you?"

Quobbles:

The only visible entrance to the building is a massive set of double doors, from this distance it is hard to tell but they seem to have a bit of a metallic glint to them, they appear to be bronze perhaps? Someone could easily hide amongst the statues, the smallest of them are about 8 feet in height and they are all fairly wide. The longer you look the more you get the uncanny feeling the statues are looking back.

Feeling much better after a short rest, Brogar says, "It is risky, but maybe the short approach is the right one this time."

Ari nods, "You maybe right. When Quobbles returns and reports we can press on, though it would be good to find a hidden place to return to and rest."

Quobbles carefully explains what he saw.

To Ari:  "There's no way I'm walking down that avenue of statues by myself.  I got a weird feeling just looking at them.  If I'm going down there, it will be with a doughty warrior like yourself in the vanguard.  I do think we should check out these double doors though."

To the party: "I say we camp at the bottom of the mountain when we have to recover.  It was a bit of a slog climbing up here, but I don't want to risk being surprised in the middle of the night by roving cultists."

Ari crouches down and listens carefully to Quobbles.

"Alright, agreed. I will go with you and will take the point position."

Turning to Donovan and Brogar, "No use for all of us taking this initial risk, so I would suggest that the rest of you find a good vantage point to keep these double doors under observation while Quobbles and I ensure that we can at least get inside the entrance without setting alarms off. Once we are satisfied that we can at least get inside the doors safely, either myself or Quobbles will come back to the doorway and wave to you to come on in."

He points to the ground at his feet.

"If we have to retreat, or somehow get separated, let us all meet on this spot before further heading down the mountain. This can be our rally point."

OOC - If this is cool with everyone then Quobbles and Ari will head off and check out the double-doors entrance.

"I'm not sure it is a good idea to spit our forces so soon," says the soldier.  "We should all go, or none of us."

Ari reflects on Brogar's words for a bit.

Moving close to him he murmurs, "Old man, neither you nor the good Father are much for quickly fleeing a battle. I confess that I hesitate to risk either of you against this likely cursed entrance. I have had few boon companions in my short life, and I count you and he among them. But, I must admit that my nerves do cry out for the company."

Stepping back, he speaks to the group, "If all are willing to risk the door at once, then so am I. Brogar and I can go in the first rank and screen the rest with our shields. What say you?"

Quobbles winds his crossbow, and readjusts his spear.

"Aye.  But let us proceed without haste."

OOC:  Quobbles will take the second rank.

Ari nods, "let's go then."

He then starts down to the entrance with the rest.

The party advances down the avenue between the statues at a cautious pace. No one is quite sure but it almost seems as if some of the statues blink from time to time. At the end of the path you are face to face with the great bronze double doors, they are engraved with images of various demons in their foul habitats. The doors sit dead center in the face of the building, which appears to be about 30ft in diameter, made of simple carved stone blocks with a domed roof.

As the party approaches, Ari looks the doors over to see if there is some way to get them open, such as recessed handles and the like - if they are not already ajar.

Quobbles keeps darting his head round at the statues that seem to blink, hissing "gotcha!" under his breath.  Does he definitely spot any of them doing so?

Ari:
There are no handles on the doors, however on of them does seem to be very slightly cracked open.

Quobbes:
You catch one of the statues at the tale end of blinking, it is a grotesque likeness of some sort of humanoid dog creature.

"I'm going to go and look at this doggy fellow.  I don't like the idea we're already being watched."

Quobbles walks up to the front of the statue, and waves at it.

"Best keep those peepers closed, hound-man!" he calls to it.

Ari pulls open the door and looks in...

Quobbles:
The statue stands still as the grave now, with no evidence of its prior movement.

Ari:
Peering inside you are met by a consuming blackness, the sunlight from the partially opened door illuminating just a sliver of the room. What you see is a floor painted in a mural of the Prime Stars and their corresponding hells. A rather wide stair case leading down is dead center, above it is painted a particularly large an bright star.

Ari steps inside with the others, then quickly lights a torch. Carrying the torch in his shield hand he approaches the staircase with drawn sword and looks down it. He will keep watch there until the others join him.

Quobbles shrugs in disgust and follows Ari.  He will follow with his spear drawn, but will always favour the crossbow/ranged attacks if he can.

OOC:  I really hate to do this as we are just getting started again, but I'm going to be away for 5 days from now.  DM or someone else, please run Quobbles as applicable.

OOC - no problem! Sorry, if I annoyed, I just really wanted to get inside! Cautious mode back on!

Once the others are inside with him, Ari holds forth the torch at the edge of the staircase and looks down the stairs.

The stair case appears to go down quite a ways, the light from the torch does not reach the bottom. The stairway down is about ten feet wide, the steps themselves are shallow. The corridor is arch shaped with a high ceiling.


OOC:
It seems we are rather short of players at the moment, should we put this on hold for a bit and see if people filter back, or just push ahead?

OOC sorry. Wife in the hospital. Distracted.

Brogar follows in his spear ready for a quick throw.

OOC: Woah, sorry to hear that, I wish her a speedy recovery. I didn't mean that harshly, I was just saying that it may be easier to put this on hold a bit until everyone is in a good spot again. I don't mind at all as it just gives me more time to work on the dungeon.

Ooc: no problem. Thanks. It is being a very long week!

Ooc: Okay, let's pick up again, like, Wed or Thur?

Quobbles looks up at the bigger star over the staircase.  

He whispers-  "If one of you taller chaps gives me a boost up, do you think I could prod that with the butt of my spear?  I remember a fable my dear old mother used to tell me about falling stars, and it didn't end prettily.  As long as it doesn't move, I bet those stairs are safe enough."


OOC:  Back and ready to go.

Ari gladly gives Quobbles a boost up to check out the star.

Assuming nothing looks off as Quobbles is raised toward the star, then:  PROD.

Brogar carefully watches the surroundings as Ari and Quobbles check out the star.

You prod the image..... there is a slight thud as your pole makes contact, you wait with breath held for a moment, but nothing seems to happen.

Ari sways and sweats below, "Hey, what's happening up there?"

"Keep your grundies on down there..."

Quobbles jumps down.  

"Seems like decoration.  Let's take the stairs."

He hangs back until the warriors take the lead.

Ari nods at Quobbles, then torch in one hand, sword in the other, begins down the stairs...

Brogar follows close behind, his shield ready and his spear in hand for an opportunity to throw.

You begin the descent down the stair case into the blackness below. A cold, stale air wafts up from the depths. Your footfalls echo hollowly off the shallow steps and through the corridor. Your torches do not cast enough light to see to the bottom of the way.

Quobbles mutters:  "Not too cosy.  Some burning pine sap would homely this pit up a notch.  What do you see ahead, tough guys?"

Ari grunts, "Just stairs and darkness. Demons could be making faces all around us and we'd never know it!"

Ari slows down and listens for a moment...

Ari listens more carefully, shushing those around him to silence...

You can faintly hear some thing that sounds as like an echoed scratching or the tramp of booted feet, perhaps both? It is very distant and quite faint.

Ari whispers a warning to the others about what he heard and then continues on down the stairs as quietly as he can.

It is never the furious flurry of blows, nor the smell, nor even the falling of trusted friends.  No the hard part of the fighter's life was the tense moments when a fight was just about to break out.  Brogar wondered how many wars had started just because one side or the other could simply no longer bear the tension.  He followed close behind Ari, his nerves already keying up for battle.

He heard the others behind the two fighters, following as quietly as their armor would allow.

Ari quietly passes the torch back to the last rank, trading some vision for a much sneakier approach.

As you approach the mid way point down, you see a light flicker to life at the top of the stairwell. It looks to be torch light and is moving your way.

OOC: That would be your cue Ricewind. We are in the dungeon proper now gents, good luck!

Ari whispers a warning to the others, and crouches, ready for trouble.

Quobbles hands Ari's torch to Aiden, readies his spear for melee, and whispers:

"Take this lad.  And be ready!"

Moving his sword to his off-hand, Ari draws his dagger and is ready to hurl it.

OOC: Sorry guys, had to read up the thread to know where the heck I was, so to speak :D. Also - do I hear any hushed whispers etc. etc. from downstairs?

As the light slowly starts to descend down the stairs, it shines on a short, hooded, wiry figure dressed up from head to toe in darkened by coal leather armour, light shining off it's studs. The man seems to carry a crowbar in his other hand, a sword hanging from his belt. He stands before each couple of steps to crouch and carefully examine the steps in front of him, before continuing his way down. In all other words, he does not appear to be much of a guard, unless guards here took to carrying thieves' outfits.

Brogar chooses to speak aloud to the newcomer, his spear raised for a quick throw.  "Be you a brother of the cult, sir?"

"Aye, is it "blood magic" you favour, or are you a proper adventurer?"

Ari grunts, "You're no guard! Who are you?"

The man's face goes pale behind the hood, as he drops the lantern for a moment - catching/dropping it on his foot fortunately, so it manages to just roll off rather then break, as he speaks:
'P...wha..eeerm...please don't hurt me! I'm just a thief! I surrender!" Then, as halfing's words in particular reach him 'Adventurer?'

Quobbles narrows his eyes.  "How long have you been down here and what have you stolen?"

Ari sheathes his weapons and approaches, "Yes stranger. Tell us your story."

Ari glances down the stairs past the stranger to see what he can see...

'Well, erm, uh....' He seems to take a deep breath, before he continues to speak in a hushed whisper 'Since you gents lowered your weapons so nicely, I suppose no harm in saying I've not been here too long, and I hadn't yet luck to stumble upon anything worth taking. I suppose you're not the guards as well, seeing how you didn't skewer me, so who are you lads' he stops for a moment as he again looks over your weapons and equipment 'if you don't mind me asking, of course?'

Ari nods, "If you've only just arrived then you are in time to work with us if you wish. This foul temple is the lair of the Brotherhood of the Black Circle and their demon master.

We are here to destroy it if we can.

The Brotherhood has abducted my uncle and likely murdered him. For this I will make them pay dearly. If your own reason for being here concerns coin then that is your affair - as long as you fight when the time comes.

Will you add your blade to ours?"

Taking a look over your weapons, he shrugs a little and adjusts his hood. 'Not like I have much of a choice, eh? Besides, safety in numbers and all that. As long as I get a fair cut of the loot, I don't mind company. Name's Charlie by the by, and I suggest we scuffle off, we made enough noise to attract attention.'

Ari nods to Brogar, retrieves his torch, and once again begins to descend the stairs.

In passing he murmers, "Good to have you on board Charlie. Just pick a place in the ranks that makes you happy."

Quobbles nods curtly at Charlie.  "Just don't block my crossbow and we'll be friends."

OOC:  Pretty sure everyone's ready to head further down the stairs.

Descending the final few steps of the stair way, you have the uneasy sense that you aren't exactly sure just how far down you have gone. The stairs rather abruptly give way to a corridor. It is perhaps twenty feet wide with a high vaulted ceiling. The walls are covered in cracked in faded murals, once bright and vibrant now dull and damaged. The scenes depicted are of the various hells and their infernal masters, twisted grotesques, and all manner of depictions of the various exploits of lower spirits.

The air is dank, and their is a faint dampness to the cobbled stone floor. It is dark save for the light of your torches, the corridor goes forward as far as your torches illuminate, further than that, who knows?

OOC: sorry for the delays here latley guys, I have been kinda side tracked but I am back now.

Ari hisses, "This place holds the foul odor of every breath this demon has exhaled!"

After glancing back to make sure the others are still behind him, he begins moving forward again as far as he can go, all the while keeping a wary eye out for doors, other corridors, traps - or ambushes...

Brogar follows along, his spear ready and his shield up.

As the party moves along, Quobbles peers in for a closer look at the depictions of the hells on the wall.

Charlie takes the spot behind the halfing, drawing his bow from his back and readying it.

You move down the corridor some 40 feet. Your torch light reveals the gaping mouths of two offshoot hall ways, one to your left and one to your right. These seem to be smaller than this one only a bout 10 feet wide. The current corridor also continues forward passing the two offshoots.

Ari stops at the right corridor and illuminates it to see what it is about.

He whispers, "Those in the rear rank keep a weather eye peeled for anything that may want to slip up on us!"

Holding his torch aloft he peers down the right-hand corridor...

"Left..."

Ari glances at Quobbles before he heads to check the left corridor, "Do you need a torch?", he whispers as he offers one from his pack.

Quobbles nods and points to Aiden.  "Wind the crossbow lad, and take that torch.  Be ready to hand me the weapon!"

He looks at the rest of the party.

"I'll head down there- no more than 40 feet though, then I'll be back."

Ari passes them a newly lit torch and then turns back to the right corridor and looks down it once more.

Ari: Your torch reveals only that the corridor continues further down.

Quobbles: You move forward 30 feet before your torch light reveals the opening to yet another passage on your left, this one however seems to be rather short as you can see dimly lit outline of a room.

Whispering: "Aiden, wedge that torch into a gap in the wall, then scuttle back and bring the others forward.  We should check that room."

The crossbow is levelled along the short passageway into the room.

Once Aiden creeps back and alerts the rest of the party Ari move as quietly as he can until he is next to Quobbles.

He whispers, "Are you checking it out first, or do you want Brogar and I to go? You might be a bit quieter than the two of us, but it's up to you..."

"Until we can determine that stealth is needed rather than brawn I say:  After you, gentlemen!"

Ari nods, and glancing at Brogar to make sure he's ready, slowly moves down the hallway, all the while eying the doorway entrance. When he gets to the doorway he looks in - at the ready!

You make your way into the room, as it begins to light up you see that it is empty save for the corpse of a hobgoblin and a single other skeleton.

Ari eases into the room and goes to Hobgoblin to check him out and see what killed him.

Quobbles checks the skeleton for signs of injury, any possessions, and general age of dead-ness.  What position is it in?

And are there any doors in this room?

Ari: the hobgoblin seems to have been dead at least a day. It lies in pool of its own blood, now drying, it appears to have been stabbed. Next to him lies a mace.

Quobbles: the skeleton is but a few feet from the hobgoblin, it is hard to tell the age but it wears no clothing. It is clutching a a splintered shield in one hand and a sword in the other. The sword appears to be bloodied as well. The skull of the  skeletons is partially shattered.

Ari takes the mace and stands up, looking about the room for other exits.

There are no other exits, the room appears empty save for the corpses, anything of note was removed long ago.

Ari glances about the room one last time and then heads back out into the hallway and turns left, facing further down the corridor. Once everyone is ready to go he will continue down the hallway.

Ari turns to Quobbles and Charlie, "Do you two want to scout ahead a bit down this corridor?"

"Looks like the partnership between our foes may be dissolving," quoth Brogar as he scoots the skeleton skull from the rest of it.  He then leaves the room with the others.

The sword might have been a good one or not, but he knows and trusts his own more, it having seen him through the border war.

Ari nods to Brogar, "Well, we can only hope! Right now I think I think our best bet is to capture one of these Goblins and see what he has to say. We need some information badly. This will save us much blundering about in the dark."

Quobbles forges ahead down along the main corridor:  "Aiden, follow me."

OOC:  I can map if people find it helpful:  will bodge one together tonight.

Ari begins to carefully follow Quobbles and Aiden.

OOC - Yep a map would be great! Many thanks!

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v28/AndrewW/Hallsofthenamelessone_zps53fcd80a.jpg) (http://smg.photobucket.com/user/AndrewW/media/Hallsofthenamelessone_zps53fcd80a.jpg.html)

Is this accurate?

EDIT:  Just realised I should have checked to see if people wanted it in the other thread.  Sorry!  Maybe it could get moved if so?

Very accurate, nice work. Are you moving down the large corridor or further down the one the room you just explored branched off of?

Quobbles and Aiden creep further along the corridor that the previous room branched off of.

OOC:  I'll keep map updates in the other thread from now on, and notify here when I do so.

Ari follows them quietly.

OOC - nice map!

You continue about 20ft in the dank passage before it curves rather suddenly to the right.

Quobbles stops and listens carefully, and sniffs the air.  If nothing untoward is heard, he continues along the curve.

Ari follows Quobbles and Aiden, torch in his left hand and mace in the other.

Brogar brings up the rear with the priest.

Charles follow standing in the rear, casting wary glances behind him as he keeps his bow ready.

You can not hear or smell anything relevant. Just the gentle passage of damp air. The passage contiues curving for a bit and then straighten back out. Just at the edge of your torch light you can make out an opening to the left. It is about 15ft or so from you.

As before, Ari quietly passes Quobbles and Aiden and moves to the room's entrance and peeks inside - mace at the ready!

Ari listens carefully whilst peeking inside the room...

Ari's arm muscles tense, and he is ready to hurl his mace as he peeks inside...

Peeking inside the room you feel as if you can make out a couple of vague shapes, and the feint sound of heavy breathing. The forms appear to be prone.

Ari carefully retreats back to the others, "looks like two people sleeping in there" he whispers, "what do you want to do?"

I put my finger on my lips, point to myself and the halfing, then make a walking gesture with my fingers, followed by a swinging motion and tapping the back of my head.

Ari nods, "I will back you up" he whispers...

Quobbles nods, takes the wound crossbow from Aiden, and heads into the room.  He whispers "I'll keep to the edge of the room, ready to fire a shot into their knackers if need be."

OOC:  How big does the room seem?  Quobbles will want to keep as far as he can from the sleeping forms once inside.

Ari nods to Quobbles.

He glances at Brogar, Donovan and Aiden and hisses "Okay guys, get ready to bust in when the party starts!"

Ricewind1, Quobbles: You both manage to move into the room undetected. The prone figures are a pair of hobgoblins, laying about them is a rather random pile of refuse. Empty tankards, lazily stewn dice and the other remains of a watch carelessly whiled away. They are passed out and from the smell of the room rather drunk.

Quobbles looks at Charlie doubtfully before backing against the wall with the crossbow levelled.  He says in a barely audible whisper:

"Should we parley, or just do them in outright?  Or one of each for one of each?"

Ari leans in to the two and whispers, "Guys, leave one alive for questioning, okay?"

Quobbles flashes the "ok" sign at Ari, leans in with the point of his quarrel about six inches from the head of the less bulky looking of the two, and impetuously looses the trigger!

OOC:  Roll damage with bonus, no to hit roll, O Labyrinth Lord?  *crosses fingers*

Yep no need to roll to hit on a sleeping target.

The quarrel thuds into the goblinoids cranium.  As it does so Quobbles drops the crossbow and leaps backwards against the wall, drawing his spear.

OOC:  Damge 1d6+1--->7!

As soon as Ari hears the thwack of the bolt being fired he rushes into the room, crashes down on top of the other Goblin and starts to hogtie him!

"Wakee Wakee, creep!" , he snarls

The first hobgoblin's life is snuffed out instantly as the bolt shatters his skull. The second is overcome in a flash, too surprised to mount an effective resistance and is hog tied though he protests loudly.

While Ari has the tied Goblin's face pressed to the floor he gives Quibbles and charlie a wink and nods towards the door, indicating that they should drag the body out of the room and out of sight from the drunk prisoner.

He then leans near the disoriented Goblin's ear, "You and I are going to have a little chit-chat my friend!"

"Guys, take the other one outside and put him to the question! If he won't talk, put an arrow through his brain!"

Brogar waits outside the room with the cleric (who would perhaps object to the slaying of a helpless being). Hearing the unmistakable sounds of a crossbow followed by a skull crunching along with the hobgoblinish protests as muffled and drunken as they are, he quickly hands off the torch and is watching carefully for any response from elsewhere in the tunnel system.

Ari stares down at the Goblin, "Okay, let's start with your name - then tell me how you came to be here."

He hisses, "Don't make me ask again."

Grunting and puffing, Quobbles pulls the slaughtered hobgoblin back into the corridor, and begins to rifle through his pockets and garments.

Quobbles: your search of the deceased hobgoblin is fruitless.

Ari: The captured hobgoblin snarls in his halting, gutteral dialect "I'm one a Gog's boys, he brought me here. We gotta look after them fools in robes, then we gets our share of the loot when they do there uhh... ritu-rital- uhh that thing they trying to do."

Ari snarls. "where's Gog and the rest of his boys?"

"And where are these robed guys at around here?"

He calls out to the hall, "How's that interregation going out there?"

Quobbles boots the hobgoblin corpse savagely, partially for effect, and partially out of genuine frustration at its empty pockets.  "He won't talk!" he calls back to Ari.

Ari snaps, "RIGHT! Shoot him in the head!"

The hobgoblin wriggles nervously. "Ehh.. the robed ones is scattered all over. Gog, well him an his boys are holed up with the goblins that built a tunnel into this place. Hes killed there cheif an taken is place. They are runts so they cant do nothin bout it."

Ari stares at him, "This Gog sounds like a smart fellow."

He cocks an ear towards the door, "We'd best talk a little faster. The halfling sounds like he's finished outside."

He leans in, "Tell me all about this tunnel entrance."

"How big is it, where is it at, and who and how many are guarding it?"

He pats him kindly on the shoulder and whispers, "I would hurry if I were you. I want to be a friend, but you have to give me some juicy information to satisfy that halfling - he's a murderous lunatic - and he REALLY hates Hobgoblins."

He shakes his head, "Why? Well, I don't know, some folks just hate for no reason. You seem like a decent enough chap. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He chortles, "I don't know what Gog did to anger the robed guys, but some of them contacted us to make sure that Gog gets taken care of." He nods knowingly and makes a throat-slitting gesture.

"I think their idea is that someone else in charge of you Hobgoblins would be, shall we say, easier to work with?"

Ari gasps!

He taps him on the chest, "I think it just occured to me who that could be!"

"Wow, you lucky fellow, this could all work out well for all of us!"

He glances nervously back at the door and says, "Go ahead, tell me about Gog's tunnel setup. Guards, the entrance, the whole thing - and make it snappy, I want to see you come out of this room in one piece! Any second now that halfling nut is going to bust in here wanting to ice you!"

Quobbles reloads his crossbow, and whistling a deliberately incongrouous jolly tune between his teeth, swaggers back into the room, his left thumb hooked through a beltloop.  The crossbow casually dangles from his right hand.

He strolls back into the room and stops just inside the doorway.  He grins in a sickly manner, blows the bound hobgoblin a kiss, and continues whistling.

Ari raises his hands up, "Okay, now take it easy...he wants to cooperate and tell us everything. Just give him a chance to speak..."

Quobbles sits in a contented cross legged fashion on the grimy floor of the dungeon, and trains the crossbow quarrel between the hobgoblins eyes, dropping his whistling to about half the volume.  He says nothing.

Ari turns back to the Hobgoblin, "Okay, give!"

The hobgoblin balks "the boys would never take me as leader, they dont call em Gog the great for nothin. The tunnel though its in the old living quarters to the east of here. Not many of the boys guarding it, if any, too many combing the woods for captives or guardin this place."

Ari looks back to the Hobgoblin, "And where is this Gog at?"

Ari leans closer, "I SAID WHERE IS THIS GOG AT?!"

The hobgoblin snarls " I told ya, he's down in the holdout the goblins carved in the mountain that's where the tunnel goes!"

"Great!"

"Get on your feet!"

Ari pulls the Hobgoblin to his feet and turns him to face the door.

"Okay, you're going to take us to Gog right now."

Leaving his hands bound, Ari fashions a leash about the Hobgoblin's neck.

"Get moving, and remember, whatever happens to us, happens to you first. Of course -  you'll let us know when we are near the entrance to the tunnel."

He grins

"Don't worry, the halfling will be right behind you. Okay, get moving!"

You manage to coral the unwilling hobgoblin out the door. He loudly bemoans his rotten luck.

Ari hisses to the Hobgoblin, "Shut up, it pisses off my little friend!"

He glances at the halfling, "Okay Quobbles, he's yours to command."

Moving back to the others he whispers, "Friends, this captive creature is going to lead us to the rest of his kind - they serve the robed ones as hired muscle, gathering captives from far and near, for some monstrous ritual soon to occur. They have subdued a band of Goblins in a nearby set of tunnels and have enslaved them. If we can slip into those tunnels we may be able to wreak havoc on them, perhaps even getting their Goblin slaves to rise against them. I think that this would surely aid us in our fight against these demon priests. What say you?"

"Charley, Brogar - what say you?"

"I do not relish trusting in this creature," says Brogar, "but your plan has merit. "

Ari nods and speaks to Quobbles, "Okay, let's go."

OOC: which way are ya headed gents?

OOC: We are prodding the Hobgoblin along and will be following him to the Goblin warren with the understanding that we will need to stop and take stock of our situation once we are near the entrance, but still concealed. If you can also describe the route for the sake of the party map-maker that would be great!

Quobbles prods his spear into the small of the creatures back (the spear is angled upwards, naturally)

"You'd better behave sunshine."

Also, Quobbles will carefully pause and listen before we set off-it's taken awhile to bind and interrogate the hobgoblin and he worries we may have attracted undue attention.

Ari is ready to move as soon as Quobbles gives the "all-clear".

You move out of the room as the hobgoblin grumbles quietly, lamenting his fate. You continue further down the hall way that the last room branched off of. You creep forward about thirty feet before the torchlight reveals that the corridor either branches to the right or continues forward. You can hear some sort of noise to your right but it is quite faint, there is a wiff of smoke in the air and light can be seen emanating from the corridor to the right.

Quobbles whispers to the hobgoblin:

"What's that smoking off to the right?  And don't answer 'fire'..."

He motions with his head for Ari and Brogar to be on the ready, and glances anxiously at Father Donovan.

Ari readies his bow and several arrows, and nods to Brogar that he will follow Brogar's lead...he looks back at Father Donovan and hands him the hobgoblin mace he had picked up earlier, "Father, please throw this at the start of any upcoming encounter. We need as many things flying at once as we can manage."

OOC: To Arkansan, the above assumes you are running Donovan.

The father nods solemnly and takes the mace.

Brogar takes stock of their tactical situation and is fairly pleased at their chances and the younger man's evident tallent at leadership.
"Whatever Pisquady here knows or says, we would be foolish not to check things out," says the veteran.
(Pisquady was a well known Hobgoblin chieftain in the southern borderlands around the reign of His Imperial Majesty Gerald the Invincible in the previous century, and was widely told of in stories of Gerald's war against the goblin hoards of that time, culminating in the Battle of Harper's Ridge wherein the two captains met face to face and Pisquady was felled in the ninth hour of the battle with his head going one way and his body another under Gerald's mighty hammer Hrathgulder.  Many a man will refer to any hobgoblin as "Pisquady" since.  No idea how the Hobs take this.)

After hearing what the hobgoblin has to say about it, unless it si a very bad idea indeed, Brogar leads the group towards the smoke. Is it a woody campfire smoke or something else?

Ari falls in alongside Brogar, bow at the ready...

It's hard to say what kind of smoke it is, it is thick and black. It wafts down the hallway in thick sheets.

Brogar pauses and takes a knee, carefully and quietly placing his weapon on the floor and leaning his shield on the wall, he pulls out a rag and ties it around his face to filter the smoke.  He looks around meaningfully at the rest of the party.

"If you begin to feel dizzy or nauseous, it is already too late for you.  Stay as low as you can.  Even you, Master Quabbles.  We advance slow and careful.  Hide that torch for a moment, Father.  Let us see if there is fire ahead to go with all this sooty smoke."

Ari follows Brogar's lead and ties a dampened rag over his nose and mouth. He begins crawling after Brogar.

You move further down the corridor, the smoke increases in thickness with every step. After twenty feet or so you begin to see the angry orange glow or open flames, the sounds of some sort of commotion can be heard over the crackling of burning wood.

Brogar tries to determine what the ruckus is-- a battle or something like a ritual?  He continues going forward, weapon and shield at the ready, and the rag around his face, trying to duck below most of the smoke.

He whispers to Ari. "if this is a fight between the two factions of our enemies, this could be an unlooked for opportunity!"

Ari whispers, "Your reasoning is sound. Let us get closer, wait, and then finish the victor!"

Quobbles mutters through his own rag.

"It's a good idea, but there's always the chance it's a creature or spirit of flame, in which case waiting will only get us smothered.  Someone else take this hobgoblin and I'll scout ahead.  I won't be spotted in this miasma."

Ari grunts an affirmative and pulls the Hobgoblin over to him, "Just keep your trap shut!", he hisses.

Quobbles creeps off into the smoke, spear at the ready.

As you move further into the corridor the smoke grows thicker. However you can begin to see the outline of several figures in a large room at the end of the hallway, the smoke seems to be coming from some sort of pyre. You can hear an agitated conversation over the crackling of wood and the roar of the fire.

Ari works hard to surpress a cough.

Quobbles creeps closer,crawling on his belly if necessary, until he can make out some of the words of the conversation.

Ari waits for something to happen.

OOC:

Sorry for the delay guys the last few days we have been expecting a baby and things have been nuts getting ready for him. My son was born this morning at 6 so give me another day or so to get home from the hospital and set up and then I will get this moving again.

Lying on the floor with a damp rag over his mouth, Father Donovan Nevalaps waits anxiously with Charlie, Brogar, Aiden, Ari, and their captive hobgoblin while Quobbles scouts ahead under the thick waves of black smoke that are billowing over their heads in corridor.  

He quietly readies his mace and shield as he silently offers a prayer to Ouro, give us the strength to restore order to this forsaken place and bring the humanoids and Black Circle cultists to justice!

Ari glances nervously back at Father Donovan, "Whats taking so long???"

He then shakes the Hobgoblin and hisses, "Shut up that whimpering!!"

Sweating, Ari glances at Brogar, "Can you see anything?"

As Quobbles creeps closer he can begin to make out snatches of conversation. An arugment, gruff voices and softer ones, someone berating the gruff sounding figures for building the fire too large. Some of the figures may be hobgoblins by the shape of them, the others appear to be robed. You can't be sure but the smoke smells different as you get closer, almost putrid.

Ooc: sorry for the massive delay guys, I am back this time, ended up changing jobs, losing my internet connection due to my landlord being a jerk, and a few personal emergencies on top of that but things are settled for the moment.

Ari waits impatiently for Quobbles return.

Ooc: Good to have you back!

Quobbles creeps ever closer to the fire.  

If it looks obviously built too large, and unstable, he will attempt to put the butt of his spear against the end of a load-bearing flaming log, and shove, fleeing as quietly as possible in the chaos as it starts to topple.

If it looks fairly stable, he will simply return to the group and report his findings.

The pyre seems to be rather shoddily constructed and while not minuscule not exactly average size either. With a bit of effort it might in fact be made to go tumbling.

Ari turns to Brogar and The Father, "Do you think he's okay?"

He stares back at the Hobgoblin and hisses, "Shut up, no one's talking to YOU!"

A concerned look mixed with sweat and anxiety colors Father Nevalaps' face when Ari turns and whispers to him and the others.  

"We cannot stay like this much longer," he whispers back in a hushed tone, "we must take action!"

'Give him a moment' says Charlie. 'We'd hear something if he was in trouble.'

"Brogar, what say you?"

Meanwhile, Quobbles gleefully shoves the pyre, hoping to send it tumbling towards the conversants.  He runs back to the party.

OOC:  Sorry guys, for the irregular posting.

As Quobbles returns to the group, Father Nevalaps whispers, "move back or go forward?  We cannot stay like this."

Ari leaps to his feet at Quobbles return.

Knowing crazy Quobbles he glances to Father Donovan, "They will be coming!"

He hastily pulls two of his four prepared oil bombs out of his pack, lighting them off Father Donovan's torch.

He hurls them down the corridor at the pyre's glow within the room!



OOC: First bomb thrown = 16

        Second Thrown = 3 (S#&T!!!)

Just let me know if the above is possible or if events prevent the action.

Quobbles runs flat out toward the party.

OOC:  Hopefully that second one isn't sailing straight towards Quobbles' head!

The first of Ari's bombs lands with effect, instantly a pair of screams can be heard followed by shouts of confusion. The second however falls well past the target.

Damage:
Two targets hit
1. 8
2. 6

It is impossible to tell at this point exactly who was hit and what they were.

Ari glances at the rest and nocks an arrow.

Quobbles reaches his comrades (hopefully?) and draws his spear, bracing the butt against the stone floor to receive a charge.

Picking up his shield from the floor and hefting his spear, Brogar throws into the smoke and then pulls his sword.

(apologies for my inattention, guys.)

OOC - Okay Arkansan - bring it! We will have to deal with events as best we can -  as folks check back in.