Your plans decided, Clay reads his scroll and prepares the Banner of Pain to carry before you into the throng. The two barrels are lit on fire and rolled ahead of you, the two heavy fish barrels rolled next for distraction, your group running in after them to take advantage of the barrel's unexpected appearance. The thrumming of the drums moves you confidently forward, the dwarven anthem reverberating through the very stone of the dwarfhold.
You chase the barrels into a large chamber. Two brazier-fires burn, throwing light up to a ceiling 30' above, supported by tall pillars - functional but unornamented, throughout the room. About three dozen goblins scurry about the room, six archers standing on a pair of balconies with partially-collapsed railings on either side, arrows pointed at the entrance where you arrive. A stone platform sits at the far end of the hall (which is about 120' across in total, then 160' in each direction) -- a fat goblin with an imperious demeanor stands before a carved stone throne that is twice his size. He is unarmored, brazenly, and holds an unsheathed flaming sword and an overconfident toothy smile as he watches your group enter. A leathery hound the size of a pony crouches next to the throne, its chain loosed and lying impotent beside it. The four spearmen and injured acolyte who escaped you cluster on the other side pf the throne from the hound, chattering at the Goblin King, who ignores them, his eyes looking your direction.
The flaming barrels careened into the throng of goblins in the hall, three of their number unable to get out of the way before the barrels crash into them and splinter into flaming barrel staves. The three flaming goblins flail and scream, running pell-mell around the room. The two heavy fish barrels careen down the hallway and into the chamber next, each of them caught abruptly by a swinging scythe blade, the pair of which emerged from concealment on the entryway's sides and which are embedded now in the barrels, halted in their motion mid-swing so you can easily evade them.
The party runs into the room behind the barrels, a meager five humanoids, a bear and a dog against over fourty goblins, their fearsome king, and a hound of hell who makes your bear look like a puppy. You face ten times your number, brazen and unafraid. Clay holds his banner aloft on his staff, flanked by Morrs and Huckleberry like a mammalian vanguard in the midst of the goblin hoard, the others holding to the rear rank with their bows and spells.
"Come goblin King, puppet of Longshadow, beware the Long Arm of Gaul has reached you!"
yells Foxy O'Hare, the lone human who has seen this hall before and lived, now returned with her companions to face the scores of foes in mortal combat. The Goblin King laughs brazenly at her, raising his fist in the air. Two pairs of solid electrum doors, roughly 60' to your left and to your right along the wall through which you entered, swing open with a heavy metallic clang. Two dozen skeletons begin an orderly march into the room, a dozen on each side.
A half-dozen arrows rain down on you from the archers, who perch on the side-balconies, about 160' to your left and to your right. They scatter among you as you dodge, expecting this incoming fire. Only one impacts, sinking deep into the Grizzly Woman's shoulder
(-5hp) and spoiling her own bowshot in the process. Foxy and Halfpint's shots fly true, however. Foxy's arrow drops the remaining Acolyte of Sdubok who fled you earlier, who stood nearest the king, while Halfpint drops the goblin spearman next to the priest. The remaining three spearmen from Dmukaz's band dive off the dais and look for cover.
Leaving the ballsy banter to his red-headed companion, Clay instead intones his own spell, calling on the powers that Eruanna grants over living things to hold the Goblin King's form. The Goblin King's eyes go wide for a moment as his limbs become wooden, his muscles corded and stiff. He freezes in place, hand still tightly gripping his flaming sword and fist still raised, abruptly immobilized. Baxtaw's words likewise summon his eldritch powers. The shadows on the balconies stretch and bend, briefly masking the forms of the goblins as all six archers collapse onto the balcony's stone flooring, disappearing from view as they all fall to slumber.
The three dozen goblins swarm towards the front rank, swerving around the barrels to try and assault Clay, Morrs, and Huckleberry with their vicious weapons. They banner waves before them and there is a caucaphony of dismay and cries of pain which almost overwhelms the sounds of the drums. Enraged and fueled by the pain, the surge continues its momentum, though their writhing limbs hinder both their accuracy and aglity. Clay, Morrs, and Huckleberry fend off the surging mass of goblinkind, outnumbered 10 to 1 each. One goblin catches Morrs
(-1hp) and one catches Huckleberry
(-1hp) glancingly amid the chaos. This victory is short-lived, however, as Huckleberry the bear swipes the goblin with one claw, then slays two more with is other paw and teeth. The sheer violence of the bear, the wracking pain in their bodies, the impotence of their first attacks, and the immobilization of their King, however, proves too much for them. Panic goes through the goblins like a wave and their chaos only heightens as they now begin to try to surge in all directions to get away from the party and its ferocious beasts. With three goblins on fire, three slain by the bear in those first moments, and three more trampled to death under their kin, nine bodies lie on the floor and twenty seven turn and begin scattering in all directions to get away.
A roar, however, erupts from the dais as the hell-hound leaps. It, too, snarls in pain due to the banner's effect upon it with billowing smoke coming from its nostrils, its powerful hind legs carrying forward in a mighty spring towards Huckleberry the bear. The hound lands, dwarfing its ursine opponent and snaps with its teeth, but fails to catch the bear, this time.
The goblins scatter around the approaching undead, giving them wide berth, but they'll reach the party on each flank in but another moment.
(Amazing job! The archers are asleep, the goblins all routed, the king is frozen. A dozen undead will arrive on each flank next round and the hellhound remains engaged with Huckleberry.)
Rolls: