Ambush!!! Goblin attack. Goblins were short lived as we slaughtered this band of boot biters. Even pretty boy almost got dirty. I have never really cared for the taste of goblin and these things are too weak to be considered anything but pests. I killed a goblin or two but the party would have slaughtered these vermin even if I was not there. So we moved on.

Down the beach we heading and up to an underwater cave. As I can see without the requirement of a light source I went into the water to check out the cave, trask at my side. He obviously could not see as he almost ran his head into the rocks a couple of times. Inside the cave we found what Sedgwick described as bunyip, half shark and something else. After a discussion we decided to leave this sea creature alone for now and move on. Feasting on the meat of the bunyip just was not meant to be, at least not yet!

Backtracking we worked our way up to towards the bridge we found caves cut into the brush. Rigal, Olithar and I scouted into the tunnels. We witness Globins dropping other globins into a hole. We later discovered that they were feeding the bunyip. We found what looked to be two groups of goblins, a main force and an area with growling sounds. A great cat like thing jumped out and as we took its life we heard a goblin cry out, looks like someone lost a familiar. There was some confusion as Avia started to run over and help Nolan but instead had to run back and save Trask as he was overrun with goblins. Rigal, traks, Olithar, and Avia had this situation well in hand so I moved back over to assist Nolan. As I returned to Nolan the goblin mage returned with a flaming blade. That cool flaming blade hit me and everything went blank. Nolan must have slain this creature while I was out, I am not sure how long I was out but someone had stripped the gear off the goblin mage while I was out. Through the ringing in my ears I can almost hear fathers words “Magic, why you want to become frail and weak, only those cursed with magic in their blood not true warriors. You not even bless by the gods, you bring dishonor to the family. You no longer my son”. Could I have actually not traveled down the correct path? My master did tell me that the path of the wizard is not suited for everyone and that I still must find my true path. Did I dishonor my family for nothing?

For the rest of the day we found interesting ways to kill goblins, Olithar played goblin on a stick to present a goblin and then shoot bolts at the towers. We didn’t really get to kill any goblins that way but we were entertained. Sedgwick used silent image to create a dog and then other goblins as we used these images to lure countless goblins to their deaths. At least this time as was able to properly assist Nolan and Avia in slaughtering these pesky goblins. Bloody goblins and goblins parts started to stack up, although the goblins are fresh meat I have never liked the taste of goblin so I will just eat the travel rations. The humans are squeamish anyway so eating goblins is not really an option; besides these are just weak goblins, there is nothing to be gain by consuming there heart.

Oathday, Lamashan 10

The fact that there is an entry here at all rather foreshadows the result of our skirmish with the goblins. And that, truly, is what it turned out to be — a skirmish, not a battle. Despite their superior numbers, they could not overcome a significant handicap: they were goblins.

There was 10-12 of them, and although there was a line of archers at the rear to pepper us with arrows, there aim was as good as mine with my darts. For the most part, their strategy didn’t harm us. Several including myself had minor wounds, but my two magic missiles gave more damage than I took. I was hoping to use burning hands to good effect, but the rest of our group was so eager to engage the little pests that I couldn’t use it for fear of harming friends.

Friends. Do I have friends? I guess slowly and imperceptibly I may have gained some. I at least have comrades in arms, and we fight to protect each other as much as ourselves. While my magic missiles are unerring, I must admit I admire the smiting that the paladin and half orc are capable of. From what father told me before I left, as I learn more spells and gain more experience at handling magic, I will become valuable in different ways, but there’s something attractively visceral about being able to cleave an enemy in two.

In any case, Olithar was able to do a group heal which fixed all the minor wounds I received in the batt- I mean, skirmish. A quick search among all the bodies revealed all of 10gp. Still, that’s almost one gp per goblin which is unusually rich from my limited experience.

We continued on to the coast, somewhat more wary now but also somewhat more confident. I was carrying the scroll of burning hands we retrieved earlier, as well as the scroll of cure light wounds and the metal wand of shocking grasp.

Upon reaching the coast (and it wasn’t much farther) we followed the treeline along the coastline for a ways until we were able to catch sight of what Sedgwick said was Thistletop. It was a tall, roughly cylindrical island separated from the mainland by only a hundred feet or two, if that, and joined to it by a rope bridge. Atop it appeared to be some sort of garrison or barracks — in any case, it had visible guards.

Well before we reached its base, however, we found a small cove with what appeared to be a partly underwater cave leading into the mainland. It spoke well of our luck to find this, as it was low tide and during high tide, the opening might not even be visible. As it was, it seemed likely that one would end up having to swim underwater to truly examine it.

Having some aptitude in that, I volunteered, as did Sabin. Sabin had the advantage, however, of incredibly good eyesight in low light, and we didn’t have to go far in before a) we were forced underwater, and b) the light became decidedly more faint. He quietly made his way to a chamber inside where he observed what the locals call a ‘bunyip’. It looked like a very large sea lion or walrus, with unhelpful elements of a shark, and apparently it is carnivorous and does have a reputation for sometimes attacking boats and eating fishermen. The cavern also featured some sort of opening from which there was light, so we assumed it opened to the sky (probably some dozens of feet up judging from the heigh of the cliff we must be beneath.)

Upon reporting this, there was a vigorous discussion of the bunyip’s purpose. We thought at first it might be a guard for the goblins, but finally concluded it might also just be a sea creature, and we had found its home. We also decided killing it might be hard and really of no value. And so we spared its life. (Or fate spared ours; one never knows.)

As part of that discussion, we decided an attack by sea was ill-advised. It wasn’t at all clear we even could reach the pinnacle of Thistlestop via ascent, and even if we could, we would be under constant attack by guards from above since such an approach could hardly be construed as stealthy. Well, strike that — it could be if we did it at night, but climbing wet, slippery rocks in the dark would seem idiotic to even the dimmest among us.

So it was we decided to ascend the mainland cliff and scout the rope bridge. This was also not simple; unless we truly meant to go straight up (see detriments listed above) we needed to backtrack some and find a way to “ascend” through the woods where the land was lower and more level.

Exploring in this direction, as we neared the top of the headlands we found a thicket of brush and bramble. There seemed to be some game trails which led through it here and there, but the tallest among us had to hunch over to avoid getting caught on the brambles. The passages seemed to be a 2-4 feet wide and maybe five feet high.

Before too long, we found these game trails seemed to lead to a what appeared to be a more heavily used trail. It was not much taller, but noticeably wider. We surmised we were getting close to the rope bridge and perhaps these bigger trails had been made by goblins. We were on alert.

Fortunately, in a poorly executed manner of hiding the trail, we came upon what seemed to be a door-ish appearing effort of woven bramble across the trail. It was clearly an artifical construct, and drew us to that path like a moth to light. We knew now we were on the right trail.

Rigel went ahead to scout, and while she was gone we heard a tremendous roar followed by goblin voices. We were all quite grateful to see her return unharmed, and although she was able to elaborate upon the variety of forks and trails that lay ahead, she too had heard the noise but could not explain it.

Sabin, Rigel, and Olithar moved cautiously ahead and to the right to explore an area that Rigel had not. They bore witness to a barbaric sight. A small party of goblins dragged another towards a hole in the ground. The dragged goblin was bound, seemed terrified, and was struggling as best he could while bound. Without too much difficulty the party of goblins tossed him into the hole. After a brief pause, there was another roar, clearly emanating from the hole, but it sounded less … demanding. Could such an animal sound connote … satisfaction?

The trio quietly came forward after the guards left. This apparently set off some yapping from goblin dogs further to the right, but they went to the hole, peered down it, and suddenly it was all clear. The hole led to the bunyip lair. And the bound goblin had become … bunyip lunch. Or dinner. But why would they be feeding their own to this creature? What hold did the creature have over them that they would feel compelled to do so?

Cautiously following the trail the guards had taken, they found it led to an overlook of the rope bridge and, of course, the beaches below. Had we come this way, we would not have arrived in secret. West of this viewpoint came the sound of goblin voices and possibly the flicker of a fire. Returning to our party, the scouts found yet another lookout roughly to the south of the goblin voices.

Strategizing commenced. It is very easy to overthink goblin strategy, we reminded ourselves, so we did not need to come up with a clever or complex path. Simply put, we decided to lure as many guards as we could back to the hole with another bunyip-like noise, and pick them off one by one. We could control two forks and attack them from the rear after they passed, as well as the front. We may not draw all of the guard out, but when one doesn’t return, presumably more will come out to investigate. The dogs seemed penned up. We could take them out later, like shooting fish in a barrel.

Myself, Rigel, and Avia would be the rear attack. Olithar, Sedgwick, and Nolin would be the frontal attack. Sedgwick would use his mimicry skills to reproduce the sound, and then they would engage the guards that appeared. We would cut off their escape should they retreat. If there seemed to be some left, repeat.

What could go wrong?

Things went wrong right from the start. Despite Olithar’s insistence that he’d heard dogs, when the sound went up his party was attacked by a large CAT, and this wasn’t any old housepet. It jumped upon Olithar and the three of them battled to get it off before they could even engage the goblins. When finally the slew the beast, a single, great, goblin-like cry arose from further up the trail.

No sooner had they slain the creature than the goblins were upon them. One battled them while the second slipped into the passage towards the dogs.

Meanwhile, I was frustrated because our party was to provide rear attack and instead my companions had followed me as I cautiously advanced up the corridor. “Go back!” I hissed. “Go help the others!” And as Rigel and Avia took off towards the sound of battle, I discovered goblins are not without ears.

More goblins than one person should fight emerged from the firelit room, responding to the ruckus. I was able to surprise one, but needed to back up slowly to avoid being surrounded. I toyed with yelling for help, but that might also bring goblin reinforcements if my voice echoed across the nearby chasm. My best hope was that my companions would now hear the sound of THIS battle, and return. This was an excellent time for burning hands, but unfortunately it is somewhat trickier to execute during hand to hand combat and the spell fizzled. I took some cuts and glanced anxiously over my shoulder.

Nolin, meanwhile, had entered the dog area and found 4 there tethered. The goblin that had escaped was here and now with a little time to eyeball him, he appeared to be a magic user of some sort. Not one to be distracted by pretty robes, however, Nolin ripped into him. With little ceremony, and in under a minute, he was a brightly dressed, dead goblin.

Seeing that there were no visible goblins (Gogmurt, the magic user, had disappeared from their sight before their arrival), my companions turned around and came back to find me fighting several goblins. With Avia there, and eventually the rest of the party, we were able to put them down. My wounds were again minor, despite the early mismatches, and Olithar later did another mass heal which brought me back to full health.

With the goblins dead, and the dogs still tethered, we could take time to examine what we’d found. In particular, the magic user seemd to have some interesting belongings. There was:

some +1 leather armor [115] (goblin sized, alas)
a +1 cloak of resistance [116] (also hanky sized)
a potion of cure light wounds [117]
a potion of speak with animals [118]
two potions of tree shaping [119]
a wand of produce flame [31 charges][120]
a spear [121] that was not magical
a sling [122] that was not magical

Following the trail to its ending, we found another bramble barrier which, when removed, led us to the rope bridge.

We returned and killed the dogs, which were still tied up. Not very sporting, I know, but better safe than sporting.

In the firepit room, we found evidence of a sleeping area, but little else. It was still a little mysterious as to what this encampment was for, given that apparently goblin sacrifices were made here. Unless .. maybe that’s it. If the goblin with the magic items had been a priest then maybe the bunyip provided a convenient means of sacrifice. Come to think of it, the struggling goblin HAD been dressed differently …

Or was the shaman their captor, and .. but then the guards …

Hmm.

Watching secretly from one of the guard posts, we could see the guards on the other side seemed to be amusing themselves rather than actually guarding. They also seemed to be dressed differently than those on the bodies on this side. The bridge did not seem particularly well maintained.

Recalling just how intelligent goblins were (idiots) we concocted a cunning plan. Goblins hate dogs. Sedgwick created the illusion of a dog, had it run out onto the bridge, and bark several times. Sure enough, 4 goblins eventually came over to try to kill it. When they followed it into the woods, we killed them. Four less …

We also used the bodies of the goblins we killed to appear to be watchmen at the viewpoints. The towers started shooting at the (dead) goblins. We shot back. Eventually they started shooting flaming arrows and “killed” one of the dead goblins, so we had to replace it. This time, we shot flaming arrows back. There was now a full fledged flaming pincushion war going on. The flaming arrows actually set small portions of the wooden towers on the far side on fire, although there were in no immediate danger of burning to the ground. I raised the stakes by using the wand to actually send a fireball over.

Four burlier looking guards came over to “punish” us. Once they entered the forest .. four less.

Some felt this was going too slowly. Myself, I’m thinking they’re just stupid enough to keep it up until there are few enough left that we can simply storm the gate. But a growing number of our party thinks even now a raiding party might be sneaking up on us, having exited Thistlestop thru some secret passage. The consensus seems to be we should take the fight to them. Sigh. This is working, after all! Oh well. I don’t feel strongly enough about it to argue.

Oathday, Lamashan 10, 4707; Thistlestop; Late afternoon

We had left the road this morning and were marching through the area the locals call the Pauper’s Graves when the goblins struck. A small swarm of these little vermin ran screaming out from the Nettlewood on our right.

A little better organized than the goblin foes we’d already encountered, this force included a half a dozen archers who formed a line at the forest eaves as their the main force of fighters swept in and engaged us in melee.

Better organized or not, they were still goblins, and we swiftly killed the lot of them with minimal injury to ourselves.

We continued our hike to the coast, a little more warily than before, and soon came to a small bluff overlooking the deep blue waters of the Varisian Gulf. Scrambling down onto the beach we walked northward on the as the land began to rise upon our right.

After about an hour of pleasant walking, the beach became more pebbly than sandy and what had been a gentle rising bluff leading up to the east had become a rocky cliff, which soared ever higher.

The shore line bent around to the west and looking ahead above the hazy mist of sea spray we saw a great headland jutting out to the north and ending in a precipitous fall a hundred feet down to the water. A steep sided island abruptly rose up from the water to the same height, as if some giant among giants had taken his gargantuan axe and cleaved the great gash between island and headland.

We crept along the foot of the cliff for cover and were soon close enough to see that a long and narrow plank bridge suspended between ropes connected the top of the cliff to the island heights. Upon the island itself were vague forms of ancient stone structures, but these were overshadowed by a more recent wooden fortress. Before the fortress walls we could barely make out the shapes of goblins and their accursed goblin-dogs patrolling the perimeter.

Our way west was blocked by a finger of the sea that had flooded a large fissure in the cliff, some ten to twenty feet wide and perhaps a hundred feet deep. The steep walls of the cleft kept the water in perpetual shadow even in the the bright midday sun, but nestled into the far wall we could descry the entrance to a cave at the water’s edge.

Most of the cave was underwater, but because it was already low tide, this was the best time to explore where it might lead. Sabin and Trask volunteered, and after leaving their gear with us they plunged into the cold gulf water and swam over to the cave. A few feet in the cave was completely submerged, and it was dark within, but Sabin having the natural eyesight of his people dove beneath the water and swam in some sixty feet.

There the cave opened up into a natural grotto with a domed ceiling. In the center of the dome was a circular patch of blue from a great natural shaft that climbed straight up to daylight more than a hundred feet above. To the north was another cave that led out to light, and to the south was a ledge some fifteen feet long following the curve of the cavern wall just above water level.

Upon the ledge slept a large half shark and half seal monstrosity! Sabin quietly dove back through the cave and out to where Trask waited, and swam back to the relative safety of the beach.

We decided to back track south a ways to where the cliff was lower and easily scaled, and then make our way along the cliff top to investigate the bridge.

The Nettlewood. Now I know how it got its name. The trees that grow here are stunted, gnarled twisted things that struggle for survival against a vast thick blanket of scrub, thorn and bracken. Passage through the forest would have been impossible but for the animal tracks that meandered through even the densest thickets. These were terribly narrow with a ceiling of dense foliage that forced us to walk bent over.

Eventually we crossed a more substantial track: one that looked as if it were of goblin make that appeared to lead in the direction we wanted. A short while later the track opened onto a small clearing where a handful of other trails all met together.

The trees had thinned out here, finally yielding to the riot of vines and brambles that towered some 20 feet overhead. Set in the wall of thorn before us was a screen of brambles woven into a small barricade that, had it not been so crudely made, might have been intended to disguise the opening beyond.

A small tunnel led through the brambles. Rigel sneaked in and had been scouting about for a few minutes when we heard a tremendous roar echoing out from the thorny hedge followed by the shout of goblins. A moment later Rigel returned and described the forks and openings in the vegetation, but had no idea what might have made that bestial cry.

Sabin, Rigel and I formed a small exploratory party and slowly made our way to the first chamber of sorts to the right of the main tunnel. Peering around the tunnel wall we watched in horrid fascination as a group of goblin guards came into the chamber from an tunnel at the opposite end, dragging behind them a bound goblin who had a look of terror in his little, beady, rodent eyes.

Without a word of ceremony the guards flung there captive down a large hole that was in the center of the chamber. Another roar boomed up from the opening, but this one less demanding and more satisfied than the other.

The guards left and we scrambled forward to look down the hole. As we passed from the tunnel to the chamber we saw that the tunnel in fact led on east, but narrowed such that it was easy to miss. From beyond this thin gap I heard the distinctive growl of goblin dogs from beyond.

We quietly crept past this opening and looked down into the hole. In the darkness we could see the faint flicker of light on water and could hear the thrashing about of something large. Sabin thought that this was most likely the very shaft he had seen from the grotto below, and the great roaring had come from the shark-seal beast he had seen within.

We followed the tunnel back the way the guards had gone and found it ended at the cliff’s edge with a spectacular view of the island to the north, and the rocky shore far below.

To the west was a small side tunnel, and from there we heard the crackle of a fire and subdued goblin voices. We gave that passage a wide berth and returned to the original tunnel and took the left branch, which led to another lookout — this one to the west.

We returned to the rest of the party and hatched a plan to lure the goblin guards back to the hole, where we would be waiting in ambush. Sedjewick used his talents to project the sound of the roaring beast we had heard echoing up from the shaft.

Goblins are creatures of habit, and not known for the deductive reasoning. This worked to our advantage and a moment or two after Sedjewick imitated the roar a pair of goblin guards cautiously entered the chamber. But just as we were about to spring our trap, a large red colored cougar leaped out from the narrow gap before us and right onto me.

It is a good thing that Nolin and Sedjewick were with me, and together we slew the great cat. Just as the cat dropped dead, a scream of anguish came from the brambles to the east. And then the goblins were upon us and as we killed one, the other slipped in through the narrow gap.

The sound of battle wafted in from the northwest as our companions met with a small force of goblins. I raced over to help with those goblins leaving Nolin and Sedjewick to deal with the stray.

Nolin was first through the hedge, but in the room beyond was not one, but two goblins plus half a dozen goblin dogs tied to stakes some two dozen feet away. One of the goblins was crouching down near the dogs, and wielding a blade of flame. The other ran out through a southern passage. The crouching goblin stood and blasted Nolin with a ball of fire.

Meanwhile the rest of us were mopping up the last of the goblins, which freed Sabin to go check on Nolin and Sedjewick. Sabin entered the hedge just as the mage like goblin dropped him with another fire spell, but Nolin and Sedjewick had closed into melee by that time and quickly slew the little fire crazed freak.

A few minutes later and the other goblin was dead.

I healed Sabin and the others injured in the fight, while the goblin dogs were all killed still tied to their posts. We dumped most of the corpses down into the shaft.

On the spell caster we found a handful of interesting items, which Sabin identified.

[115] +1 leather armor (small: only a halfling or another goblin could make
use of it)
[116] +1 cloak of resistance (also small)
[117] potion of cure light wounds
[118] potion of speak with animals (Avia has this)
[119] 2 potions of tree shape (in my pack)
[120] A wand of flames (31 charges): golden metal with flames engraved on it
[121] small spear (in my pack)
[122] small sling (in my pack)

We followed the new tunnel as it bent around to the north, passed an outlook looking east, and ended in a wall of thorns. Unlike the last barrier we encountered, this one looked as if it had been grown here on the spot. No matter, using a hand axe we quickly cut it away and found that the tunnel led out to another overlook, only the rope suspension bridge led over to the island.

On the far side of the bridge was the wooden fort and a heavy double door. Wooden towers rose up from the east and west side of the fort.

We watched as a small knot of guards gathered around one of their companions who had caught a small bird. He tied a string to the bird’s leg and let it fly about while his comrades threw stones at the poor creature.

Must they make wanting to kill them so easy?

Using a silent image of a dog Sedjewick managed to lure the goblins from before the fortress wall across the bridge and into our awaiting arms.

A little more work with his happy puppy and the gates opened, sending another squad of four goblins to throw themselves upon our weapons.

Sabin and I then tied a goblin corpse to a stick, tied a small bow to that, and I made it dance about the northern facing lookout while Sabine shot arrows over at the tower. Arrows came back, and the more we made our meat puppet dance the more arrows came over, until some came back flaming.

That gave us another idea and we set a few arrows alight ourselves before sending them over. Trask joined in on the fun and launched a ball of flame from the wand at each tower, causing flames to burst on its wooden structure.

But other than irritating those in the fortress, we clearly weren’t making any progress on getting over to the island. And we were worried that there might be a secret entrance through which a small horde of goblins could at that very moment be issuing forth to confront us.

We still had one element of surprise on our side: so far all the people in the fort knew was that some rouge goblins have slain guards from the island, and have shot arrows and flames at the fort.

We are now discussing our options, as I make this journal entry. I’ve also sketched a crude drawing of our surroundings so we have it for a reference. I’m afraid the position of the island is a bit off (too far west), but I haven’t the time to correct that now because we have arrived upon a course of action.

Using the small barrier of brambles we hacked down to shield our identity we will move up to the suspension bridge and tie our ropes to it; then we will cut the suspension ropes and let the bridge drop from our side. If we need to we can haul the bridge back up and with a couple of mending spells repair the ropes.

Once we’ve closed off that means of escape from the island we will climb back down to the beach and search for some other way to access the island.