Expedition - Foxy/Lost Children- 01 May 2021

[Rusty Tincanne]

Clay Weatherwax
Clay is pleased to see the goblin's spell fail and to see Balex's contempt displayed so prominently. The shaman has lost some measure of authority now and it offers an opportune opening. Clay prods his horse forward, riding up onto the dais. Towering above Dmukaz, he addresses the shaman without looking at him or Balex. Make yourself useful and summon your king. We have business with him and him alone. Clay focused on Maurice for the moment, thanking him for trying. It makes sense they would avoid this crowd; he had hoped for the impossible.

At the risk of jinxing myself, the king of the low rollers will now learn the spell that was cast.
[1d20] = 2

[Marullus]

The shaman was attempting a Cause Fear spell.

Clay do a 4d6 Charisma check as well, please.

[Rusty Tincanne]

Not so much this time... Unless you wanted to give me -4 for being with the lady with the grisly skulls, being on a horse, being a scrawny kid in a borrowed leather coat and having the smallest-ever owl on my shoulder and being accompanied by a dog on death's door step.
Charisma Check vs CHR 13 [4d6] = 20

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Foxy speaks to the guard men, not wishing ti invoke the wrath of the priest. She eyes further into the cavern mouth seeing if the King is about to make an entrance.


Charisma roll vs goblin priest [4d6-2] = 16-2 = 14

She also looks about the crowd trying to notice if any wolves are penned up and around the bonfire what the makeup of the crowd is, such as swaying goblin maidens or buffed up greenskin warriors.

[Marullus]

Foxy looks closely at the throng. The goblins at the fires seem to be the rabble - mixed male and female, skinny to flabby, not armored, bearing cudgels and rude weapons rather than appearing soldiers. This changes at the palisade, where armored goblins with swords and bows mill around the gate and on a catwalk that allows them vantage over the palisade spikes. There are no wolves outside the palisade, where the fires blaze almost out of control, but the glint of their eyes can be seen as they pace within the palisade as well, well back from the flames. There is no sign of procession from within the palisade at this time.

The shaman, already enraged at Balex's defiance, finds a convenient outlet as he turns on Clay, bloodlust in his face. A stripling human and a tiny owl, acting imperiously... the Shaman retakes control of a situation where he is already humiliated once and will not be twice. He raises his arms and speaks loudly at Clay, a performance for all the goblin throng to see.

"You speak thus to me?!? Insolent cur! Human welp! FLEE before the might of Sdubok! FLEE before Dmukaz!" he yells in common, then repeats in Goblin. As he says the word "flee," a supernatural terror overtakes Clay, who stumbles ungracefully from his horse and runs headlong out of the firelight and away from the goblin throng. His dog bounds after, tail tucked and unsure of the threat. The owl, displaced by the fall, flutters after. Asala, caught up in the commotion, brays incessantly running pell-mell behind to catch up with Clay, too. The horse, confused, wanders a few steps into the crowd and stops as he is hemmed in by goblins. The goblins become raucous and insolent, cheering and screaming with laughter at the sight of the fleeing human and his menagerie.

Foxy faces the armed guard who stands beside the Shaman, having issued her own imperative. He grins wickedly at her, showing all his pointed goblin teeth. "I can think of many things to do to you, firehair," he insinuates, adding a few rude gestures. The crowd cheers him on as well, growing dangerously brazen as they reach up and begin pulling at her clothing hems with grubby little fingers. The goblins press in on the farmers and their horse as well; they circle up back to back against them. The situation seems moments away from losing control, the mob of unwashed goblins with greedy looks in their eyes, ready to overwhelm them.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Foxy steers her horse around in a little circle to fend off the unwanted goblin hands, using the weight of the big draft horse to knock goblins out the way.

"ah, your little green cocktail sausage is not enough meat for my sandwich!" Foxy taunts the priest using her fingers to show an inch distance. "We came expecting a festive show and trade yet you stand around like mourners. Here ladies, share this wine. Let us Red Robes start your party."

Foxy will pass her wineskin with the goblin viagra to a couple goblinettes to drink. She will also indicate to Mr Farrow to throw his torch on the bonfire, hoping Gus and George will use some initiative to round up the Clay, the horse and donkey.

[Marullus]

Clay has 2-3 rounds out of action as he flees, composes himself, and returns. (And his player is MIA for the next week.) So, Foxy needs to move this predicament herself.

What's your intent, here? Create two distractions, then... what? What's the goal?

[Stirling]

Well Foxy isn't going to get pulled off a big draft horse and either molested or immolated by a bunch of goblins.

The king has yet to make an appearance so Dmukaz seems to be running the show. We came here for the girls and they must be inside the cavern.

If Foxy can get these goblins to focus on the fire and the 'on heat girls' , it might spice up the festive mood and wrestle some control from the priest. Certainly crowd control is paramount. Foxy isn't sure what to expect, does the king make an appearance for the gloaming ceremony or is he busy in his chambers? Either way he is expecting the Red Robes to turn up with the finger bones. How will he react to his priest casting a spell on the carrier of these bones?

I can do a round by round action until you get Clay to come back ( if he decides too).

[Marullus]

Foxy cajoles the crowd and offers her wineskin to the female goblin nearest her. The goblin greedily begins to gulp it just as another goblin snatches it to do the same, then it disappears in a tumult. The gobliness emerges, grabbing another goblin and kissing him passionately. The tumult continues and spreads in a goblin mess. Foxy tells Mr. Farrow to light the pyre. Mr. Farrow pauses for a moment, glancing from her to Balex, then to Gus and George. His lips setting in a grim expression, he lights the pyre. The flames lick upward greedy and quick, soon the entire pyre glows and Balex begins to char. He sweats and writhes, but refuses to scream, his clothing beginning to catch. The goblins on the right of the pyre begin to hoot and yell, their chanting resuming even more fervently as they turn their attention to the pyre.

Gus and George gain control of both their horse and the one Clay left behind. Clay, his hound, and his donkey re-appear at the edge of the goblin throng, but they do not part for him. Their heckling and jeering continues, and they begin to pelt him with sticks and rocks. Unable to break through at the moment, Clay tosses the pouch to Mr. Farrow. Mr. Farrow catches it neatly, and turns with a nod to Foxy, pointing to the palisade.

Dmukaz tries to regain influence over the crowd, but turns his attention to Balex as he begins to burn. He whips up the crowd, getting them back into the chant. For the moment, Foxy and the farmers are free to move forward while the distractions draw the goblins away.

There is no sign of the Goblin King coming out. Before you is the palisade, the goblin guards at its entrance and the wolves within.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

"Mount up, we are going in."Foxy speaks to George and Mr Farrow, whilst passing to Gus the vial from Bro Mylo. "Give these last drops to Clay, it will restore his courage. Meet us inside if you can."

With that, straightening her peacock flumed hat and jacket and spurring the mount forward, Foxy rides by the bonfires and through the palisade gates.

[Marullus]

Please roll a 4d6 Charisma check and RP your actions when you confront the armed goblins at the Palisade.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Foxy tries to put the screams and festive cheers behind her. Inside the palisade may be hardened guards not gloaming cheerleaders. She passes under the ramparts above the gates and speaks to a guard by the door. "Dmukaz is an ass, tell your king his gift has arrived from the Red Robes."

Foxy charisma check [4d6] = 14

[Marullus]

Gus returns through the goblin throng to join Clay at its outskirts. Clay resumes here.

George, Mr. Farrow, and Foxy proceed forward with the three horses, pushing through the throng to reach the Palisade. Balex finally begins to scream horribly behind them as he burns alive on the pyre they lit.

The guards cross their spears before Foxy as she speaks her demand. "Drop your weapons and leave your horse-flesh if you wish audience with the King," says a wiry, smug little goblin who wears a dressing robe made of fine, purple southern silk.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare


Foxy stops at the goblin guard in the silks. Foxy and the farmers are still on the horses, she struggles with the idea of just nudging the big draft horse to ride over this little twat? What is he? An administrator, counselor or fancy dressed jobsworth? She looks at him for a moment and then speaks to George, Take a measurement of this ones' head, I will ask the king to give it to me for his insolence and parade it with the others in the birdcage.

Dismounting the horse, placing bow and quiver across the saddle, Foxy will address a guardThey need good hay and fresh water. See to itshe will flip him a gold coin.

Foxy will take a good look around, what can she see inside the palisade courtyard? You mentioned wolves patrolling about, are there any obvious entrances, wooden doors, steps, cells? Can she smell the den of the wolves in a particular cave entrance or hear screaming human voices?

[Marullus]

The air is indeed thick with the rank smell of wolf inside the palisade. The semi-circle of sharpened logs and the catwalk around its interior provides a protected zone around the cave entrance where the goblins have a height advantage. A dozen goblin archers mill around on either side of the gate, haphazardly climbing to the catwalk, peeking through holes, or lounging. A few of them watch you suspiciously, bows pointed inward at you. Ten goblin footmen, wearing a mix of leathers and adapted metal chain while carrying spears, shortswords and shields, cluster around the gate and remain focused on you and your group. A dozen wolves prowl about, signs of a few more in the dens which lie under the prominent overhang. The overhang is about 20' deep, providing sufficient shelter from the elements and room for the wolves who are more comfortable closer to the sky than the warren allows. under the overhang and in the center is a squared tunnel, about 10' square, which leads into the mountainside at an even, slight grade. Chunks of massive stone door, too heavy for the goblins to move, lie on either side, showing signs of many centuries of weathering.

One of the guards snatches the gold coin out of the air mid-flight with alacrity. Another guard joins him in rushing to the horses, the two squabbling with each other in their own language as they fight to hold the reigns of all three horses and lead them to the side. George and Mr. Farrow are tense and uneasy, but tie their own bows and flails to the saddles, following Foxy's lead. The goblins lead the horses to the side of the palisade as they shie away from the wolves who sniff them experimentally. There is no sign of fresh hay, but there is a muddied pool of water that appears to fed from an underground spring.

The other eight guards snerk and chuckle at Foxy's treatment of the silk-robed goblin and begin to usher you into the tunnel mouth. The smug little officiant protests to them, pointing at Foxy who only removed her bow, but still wears her scimitar and dagger visibly. The guards reply, terse words in their own tongue, then all laugh... Foxy is unsure if it is with her, or at her. The guards lead you in while the runty officiant fumes.

You are marched down a long hallway past several branching passages, prodded past them with spear-pokes if you get too nosy. Mr. Farrow and George both are noticeably on-edge as the outside air and light dissappear behind you. You know you've descended considerably along the length of the hallway, which finally opens into a large chamber. Two brazier-fires burn, throwing light up to a 30' ceiling above, 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 you as you are ushered in. A stone platform sits at the far end of the hall (which is about 120' across in total), a fat goblin with an imperious demeanor sitting upon a carved stone throne that is twice his size. A leathery hound shifts its bulk, its chain clinking as it slithers on the floor; the creature rests next to the throne and is about the size of a pony, watching every goblins' movement in the room with its alert eyes.

Day: 03 May 2021
Time: 10:30 pm
Light source: None (Sunset 8:53pm, moonset at 9:45pm)
Temp: 54 F
Wind: 15-17 E
Injuries: Foxy (gravely wounded), Mors (gravely wounded), Mr. Farrow (moderately wounded), Clay (Mildly wounded). Unwounded: Gus, George, Asala, Maurice the Owl, Three draft horses.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Foxy will confidently approach the throne down the hallway, stopping some 30ft away (just out of a rough estimate of the length of chain tied on the warg). Curtseying formally, "My you ever grow to fill your throne securely high king. I hear the sounds of one usurper squealing on the pyre even as I speak."

[Marullus]

The Goblin King chortles, his voice echoing through the chamber, perhaps louder than it should be. "You must be these Warriors of Beith I hear of," he says knocking the picked carcass of a roasted bird off his armrest casually. "Balex spoke of you. He is mightiest of my captains. But he comes empty-handed... Blood for the Blood God," he waves nonchalantly. "Defeater of my warriors, commander of the trees, destroyer of Red Robes, smasher of undead, but yet you kneel before me, yes?" He pauses long, expectantly, looking over Foxy, George, Mr. Farrow.

The massive ruddy-skinned beast at his side sniffs the bird carcass, then exhales flame upon it, crisping the bones black before crunching on it noisily.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

"ah, Sdubok the vile, Sdubok the flaming. This blood god of Dmukaz will have to be satisfied with Balexs' blood. Does this year's gloaming not interest you?"

Foxy mimics the kings nonchalant gesture as she speaks of the bonfire festivities.

"of course not. Religion, so much the 'opiate of the masses'. But you high king are destined for greater things are you not?" Foxy pauses for a moment as she tries to keep the king listening.

"Warrior, Smasher of undead, Commander, Destroyer...so many titles. Though I didn't defeat them all, one of your archers pinned me with his arrow before escaping. I carry the arrowhead still inside my shoulder. He has earned his promotion to Balexs' vacancy." Foxy rubs her shoulder and looks round at the archers to see if one is indicating it was him.

"And yet here I stand. Murderer, bounty hunter, crimson brigand, Flame of the North. Call me what you will it matters not. The Red Robe mages who came last moon are dead. You feared them for they saw the truth in all things. Yet their skulls and those of their pups now decorate my horse. I have their trove and I will take over their 'good trade' in this dark hour"

Foxy will kneel, pressing her forehead to the floor and rise indicating she has these bones of Zhint

Dmukaz invokes the blessings of Sdubok. He push everyone around. But he not so powerful as you. You wake the earth. I much stronger leader than him, yes. But he's not King Goblin. Dmukaz sacrifice prisoners," he nods to the farmhands, "for Sdubok's gloaming. But younglings more valuable. They go to Red Robes in trade. King gets big magic. This trade is good on when night is darkest."

[Marullus]

The king chortles, clearly pleased with this display. "Crimson brigand, Flame of the North. You wish the same price, then? You wish unripened girls for my gifts?" He yells a few harsh words and two slatted crates are dragged out into the light, barely big enough to hold a child within. A young girl's terrified yelp is heard as the crate is thunked on the stone. Mr. Farrow gasps, but utters no words, looking to Foxy for her signal that he should bring the fingerbones forward.

Name the terms of your bargain and give me a 3d6 roll.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare


"Only two little sparrows?"she asks.

Foxy walks slowly over to the crates and bends down to look in. "Sugar and spice and all things nice. That's what little girls are made of. Or are you 'frogs and snails and little rat tails' hmm? We shall see. What are your names?" she whispers, putting her hand in the cage to turn the girls faces into the light. She wants to get a good look at them, recognise familiar facial features to Mr Farrow and the man in the infirmary.

Foxy will quickly withdraw her hand as if bitten."Feisty little chicks these. I like that. Worth three bones apiece. Don't you have any others, where are the boys? Just send me two males, any two, none eunuchs. Strong boys make good labourers." Foxy will indicate to the guard who brought the crates in, snapping her fingers and pointing him off down the hallway, like a 'go, fetch' motion. She walks back to her place in front of the throne.

"The farm these girls were raided from, I want a no trespassing zone ( the one hex with the farm) around the place. Fragile farmers can't be traumatised too much or we will never get them to grow enough crops to make raiding worthwhile."

Charisma roll 3d6 = 14