The Amsorak Adventurer's Guild

Scouring the Goblin Cave

Rogues are scarier than they look...

An arrow flies through the dark! With a muffled thwack it shudders into the body of the goblin sentry guarding the bridge. Sadly, it’s Mirimë’s second attempt at killing the goblin, and the first attempt was shoddy enough that the damned thing managed to cry out. Its body tumbles from the log and splashes into the stream, where it is washed sluggishly down to where the rest of the party waits. But the sound of shrill shrieking, rumbling, creaking and groaning, fills the tunnel…
At the top of a scree slope, Erulissë crouches in the shadows. She’s good at that. She can see flickering firelight and hear the unwelcome sound of goblin chatter – far more goblin chatter than she can handle by herself, trusty as her rapier may be. Brumbjörn’s appearance is definitely a welcome one.
Water floods from further up the tunnel, so swiftly and suddenly that it can only be a deliberate release. The party scurry to the safest extremes of the cave – Mirimë and Caladhiel to the crumbling base of the scree slope, Wizzard to the cavern that they left the wolves in. He’s not going to risk getting his feet wet, after all.
The two elves pick their way precariously up the slope, following Brumbjörn’s path as closely as they can. They gain the top without incident.
A small chamber is revealed at the end of a short tunnel. Within, a small group of goblins crowd around a fire. On a ledge above them, a larger goblin, his clothing a touch more ornate than the usual goblin scraps, leers down. At his feet is a human man – it’s Sildar Hallwinter!
A quick negotiation is initiated and almost ruined (they can’t not loot the body) before a fight breaks out. The party defeat the goblins without trouble. Just before the lead goblin is killed, he chokes out a warning – Klarg will have them for this!
The party take the time to have a short rest (and a rifle through some crates belonging to a wealthy merchant. They’ll return the crates of course, and if they’re a few wine bottles lighter, well, they’re easier to carry.) Sildar has heard of Klarg and talks about him in a nervous way. He relates that Brumbjörn’s cousin Gundren has been taken elsewhere.
Rested (and a little bit tipsy) the party set off once more to clear out the goblin cavern. A giant cavern opens up at the end of the tunnel. It’s filled with the unchanging light of an enchanted stone and the invigorating beat of constantly switching power ballads.
There’s a swift skirmish, in which a small horde of goblins are killed, and Mirimë is severely wounded. A quick healing spell stabilises her.
The party reaches the very depths of the cave. A small fire snaps in a pit, casting shifting shadows across stacked crates. The shadows hide Erulissë and Caladhiel . . . and something else. A bugbear lurches from the deepest shadows. This is Klarg. His matted, greasy fur looks especially eerie in the light of the now-rose gold fire. A trunkated branch with crude, sharp metal hooks is his weapon, and behind him a wolf with a spiked collar bares bloody teeth. Klarg lurches forward, aiming for Brumbjörn with his hefty weapon. Before he can bring it down in a surely devastating blow, twin rapiers flash from the shadows and he is imapled on either side. His death is not instant, but it is not drawn out – and he is actually worth looting.
The wolf whimpers around his master’s corpse and is swiftly knocked unconscious. It’s the kindest thing, Brumbjörn insists.
Exhausted but triumphant, the party at last make their way to Brethalt. They barter at a merchant’s shop, swapping the location of the missing wine crates for a respectable amount of gold. The party go their separate ways for the night, anxious over Gundren’s whereabouts but secure in their status as allies – and perhaps friends?


misterc jessac97

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