as written by the cavalier, Olmas Lurecia, himself.

22 Sareneth 4712, Fireday

I’d come to Sandpoint at the advice of Shalelu, who seemed to feel I needed to make a decision. I was feeling some gentle pressure from her to take up the life of a ranger, which by no small coincidence was a largely accurate description of Shalelu’s life, but I was leaning towards a more … a more principled life. A more ordered life.

Not to say that Shalelu was without principle! But she seemed to spread herself thin. Mentoring me, caring for Qatana, and calling no town her home yet every town her responsibility … I felt something with a more singular purpose suited me better.

As a member of the Order of the Dragon, I would be bound by vow to the protection of a particular group, or cause. I would be judged by my steadfastness and bravery rather than by how many people I knew or how many places I visited.

I would make my mark by how well I focused, not how well I wandered. It was well and good that Shalelu served the region at large, but I’d come to desire a more immediate and practical way to display my skills.

So while Shalelu seemed to feel I needed to think things through, I was already pretty sure I knew where my path would lead when I got to town. On this particular Fireday afternoon, I went looking for Shalelu. I know that when in Sandpoint, he sometimes heads over to the Rusty Dragon – apparently she knows the owner (but then who doesn’t she know here? ) Shalelu was not immediately evident when I headed over there late afternoon, but there appeared to be lively discussions at several tables. I spotted Qatana sitting at one table so I sat down.

The discussion at this table, and apparently at the adjacent tables as well, was about the recent announcement of a bounty for goblin ears. Apparently the town had had a similar bounty in the past, but it had been discontinued for some time. Quite recently, however, the sheriff or mayor had announced 10gp per ear was being offered, meaning 20gp per goblin (unless you had the misfortune to kill one that was already half harvested.) There was substantially more available should we kill the chieftain of the goblins: 500 gp.

They’ve been getting more aggressive and waylaying travellers between here and Magnimar, in and around the Brinestone Marsh. Dead (or broke) travellers is bad for business, but Sandpoint is small while Magnimar is large. Magnimar won’t put any effort to fixing this problem, so Sandpoint had to.

Well, ever since she warmed to me (a little) I’ve been a little protective of Qatana. Although I’m sure she’d brush it off if I said it out loud, sometimes Qatana … well, she has an odd approach to things. She lives by the moment, sometimes with little consequence for the next moment. Anyway, she showed verbal interest in this goblin hunt, and upon rapid reflection I realized that she herself really had no way to kill goblins, that I knew of. But several around her quickly huzzahed the idea and it occurred to me that my dilemma had solved itself. I had a purpose, and a group to protect. With some trepidation but little hesitation, I joined the group. It would have been better had we formed on Oathday, but I could tell this group wasn’t going to wait another week for the right day to come around again.

The group consisted of

Qatana – a human body filled with quirks and topped with tactlessness
Ivan – human with a bow
Sparna – a heavily armored dwarf with a big pike
Radella – a sword, yet she claims to be stealthy
Etayne – another ranger? or a magician? not heavily armed
Kali – young wizard
Anavaru – more bow and a — horse? apparently this was an in joke
among many, but her horse looked an awful lot like a camel to me.

Ameiko came over to talk with us and temper our – their – enthusiasm. It was she who suggested we introduce each other and briefly describe what skills we bring to this rag tag group. She also provided some information that she’d heard about the goblins: apparently they are members of the Licktoad tribe, they seem to be concentrating their attacks right along the edge of the bog where the main road passes closest, and also to be careful of the “soggy river monster” that lives in the swamp. She also suggested there is a person or creature living in the swamp who calls himself (or who has been named) the “warden of the swamp” and he might know more about the goblins.

Armed with this and a healthy dose of optimism, the group disbanded briefly to gather supplies and then rejoined an hour later at the south bridge. And off we went, many brimming with confidence. Because we’d be operating in the swamp, I was reluctantly convinced to leave Kasimir in the stables.

We proceeded south to one of the fishing trails leading into the swamp. Ameiko had said taking that trail into the swamp should take us, eventually, to the Warden. After we entered, I noted that the tree cover got denser and thicker, and as my thoughts flicked back to my mock hunting with Shalelu, I involuntarily kept looking up at the trees. She always tended to go up.

There was rustling and a splash off to one side, as something seemed to find water.

And we came across a soggy looking, rickety bridge. While this was just a swamp and not a raging river, I don’t think anybody was interested in getting wet at this point. Kali, however, announced she could fix this, and after casting a spell she called prejidistashun (I think) the bridge did seem less mossy and more sturdy. We crossed without incident.

Off to the left, there was a squeal like a pig that ended abruptly.

Another bridge was cleaned by magic, and another bridge crossed.

And a third.

And we started to make out tracks other than ours. One was alien looking – three toes but human sized. There also seemed to be halfling tracks, but human sized as well. Some of the human ones covered the halfling ones, implying they came later. But both were relatively fresh.

What did Ameiko say? She had gestured at the dwarf and said, “it’s said he’s about your size”. Perhaps the halfling prints were his, then, but did he have a companion, or was he in danger?

Finally we emerged into something of a clearing. There was here a swampy looking lagoon at the edge of the bog. And a building, of sorts. It appeared a little mossy and soggy and in a similar state of disrepair as the bridges, but perhaps everything here is like that after a few days. I swear I’ve never felt such dampness before. It was a two story building, and the halfling tracks led to the house, suggesting we were in the right place. The human tracks led towards the house too but to a different side.

We called out but there was no response. Anavaru and Qatana hurried to to the door and called again. This time the door opened. A halfling stood there, bleeding from several wounds. “Now is not a good time for visitors,” he said. We ignored that and asked him about goblins in the swamp – were they the ones who injured him? He seemed confused and replied hesitantly that, yes, goblins had injured him.

Ivan pushed his way to the front and healed the man. Just like that? Sheesh, do I have another Qatana on my hands? The man seemed surprised too, but hesitantly thanked him.

Then Qatana did something dangerous but not entirely out of character. She quickly stepped past the halfling into his house, asking as she entered, “Do you have mice?” She looked anxiously about before muttering, “is that the pantry? Always mice in a pantry” and moving into an adjacent room.

Our unwitting host didn’t know what to do with that, and awkwardly began something of a tour. Sparna guarded the outside front of the building. Anavaru started apologizing for Qatana as she entered the house. Kali entered and asked, “Everything okay” and Anavaru in a stage whisper responded “put a lid on Qatana, willya?”.

Meanwhile, the halfling almost got whiplash from watching people enter and move through his house. “You should, uh, you should definitely go take care of the goblins now before they hurt somebody else. In the swamp, the goblins in the swamp. Right away.”

Meanwhile, Qatana called from the pantry, “No wonder you don’t have any mice. There’s a friendly little viper in here. C’mere, you.” And even though the halfling was already injured, I swear he paled. “Viper? A snake? No, no, snakes are bad.” Kali called out, “Qatana, he’s scared of snakes, and you’re freaking him out!” But also cast detect magic, and looked around the entryway. Anavaru looked at the halfling and her eyes narrowed; she told me later she could tell he was being untruthful about something.

Outside, Radella had found signs of a struggle on the far side of the house. Judging from the tracks, it probably had occurred not too long ago. She called out to Sparna.

However, inside, the halfling was trying to compose himself and saying, “Ok, everybody needs to get out right now” while still occasionally glancing into the pantry where supposedly there was a snake.

I continued to engage the halfling in polite conversation, even as he tried to convince people to leave. Something was very strange here and even I could detect that his answers were odd and forced. Still, if anybody, we were the ones in the wrong here, having essentially forced our way into his house. And he’d not attacked us or anything; if anything, he seemed to be the victim of an assault.

Meanwhile, Qatana had entered another room nearby and found cases of snake food and yes, live mice! Ivan asked the halfling, “wait, why do you have snake food if you hate snakes?”

“Kill the snake!” responded the halfling. “Kill the snake, then go kill the goblins! Go now!”

Qatana smiled and headed upstairs. Ivan shrugged at the halfling, and followed her up. The halfling clearly had a look on his face that said, “When did I lose control of this circus?”

Kali’s detect magic had found some sort of lingering magic on the halfling. “Qatana,” she called up in Elvish, “we need to get you down here; there’s some sort of magic.” Meanwhile, I opened the door to another room from the entryway, and it seemed to contain a room with no roof, a high wall, and … snakes!

Surprisingly, the halfling replied, in Elvish, “that’s probably lingering from your friend.” Kali looked sharply at the halfling, and the halfling started up the stairs.

Sparna and Radella came back in. That meant Qatana and Ivan were upstairs, and the rest of us were downstairs, with Anuvaru feeding mice to snakes in the open roofed room. The halfling was slowly moving from frustrated to angry. Kali continued to call up to Qatana, “Hey, I need you down here”.

I followed the halfling up the stairs, saying, “Hey, you’re injured; you should sit down and rest.” Meanwhile, the halfling got about halfway up the stairs before Qatana, already upstairs, turned and asked, “hey, if you’re afraid of them, why do you have snakes?” The halfling stopped and gave her a level look, saying in a stern voice, “That’s it. Leave my stuff alone, and Get Out of My House.” Qatana did not move, and he said, “Fine then.” He shapeshifted into some sort of creature, about medium size, and slashed at Qatana, connecting and drawing blood.

Blood having been drawn and safety having been threatened, I now felt comfortable attacking him. Well, that and the fact that he could change shapes and so clearly wasn’t actually a halfling. But most importantly, he’d threatened my charges. My first swing at him missed, but my next swing connected soundly and Sparna, who had run up the stairs, polished him off.

But where was the halfling? Was there a halfling?

We found him unconscious in a secret room upstairs. Reviving him, we found him not at all hostile but instead grateful. He called his attacker a “stalker” and said they lived in the swamp. Not a lot of them, and they usually stayed away. That’s one reason why he keeps snakes – they really don’t like them. But they can take the appearance of their victims, which this one obviously did.

His name is Walthus Prodstone, and he invited us to stay for dinner. We asked him about the three toed tracks, and he said, “That’s the swamp monster! Terrible thing. Claws for hand AND feet. Legs bend the wrong direction. Jaws open wide – it’ll eat anything!”

He was so grateful at our intervention that he offered us his enchanted cloak.

[100] cloak of resistance +1 (small)

Being small, Sparna was pretty much the only one who could wear it. But he did appreciate it.

“The goblins,” said Walthus, “are largely at the southern end of the swamp. I’d stick to the paths to get there; the swamp monster is much more likely to find you (and harder to battle) in the underbrush than if you stay on the paths. And the swamp is so dense through there that you’ll likely not gain any time anyway. The goblins have constructed a crude fortress; while it will be difficult to approach undetected, you’re most likely to find the bulk of them and/or their chieftain there.”

We set watch for the night, but we will take off in the morning.

23 Sareneth, Starday

We wound our way through the swamp the same way we came until we returned to the road. We then took the road to the area where both the attacks had been happening and Walthus had said there was a path into the swamp that the goblins were likely using.

Sparna asked if the bridges were high enough, and the goblins small enough, that they could hide under the bridges. Taking the time to inspect, roughly measure, and consider, the answer is yes. Something to think about.

Following the path from the road, we entered the swamp again. Although the early morning sun was burning off the mist, it was no less moist and dank.

It wasn’t too long before we came across goblin architecture – that is to say, scrap lumber vaguely arranged as walls, windows, and structures. There used to be a gate to this “compound” but it looked like it had been broken down. There was a pool just inside the gate, but it was algae-filled, and perhaps more insidiously, there were remains in and around the pool. Some bodies were burned.

There were footprints but they were both human sized, and apparently skeletal. Could we be dealing with undead? I’m not sure we signed up for that, and I’m also not sure if we’re prepared to handle them. Judging from the footprints, though, it appears goblins have fled the compound.

Now that we were inside, I could see that most structures were actually empty underneath. It appears that the useful part of these structures were on the second story. Sparna climbed one of the ladders and almost happily proclaimed, “Goblins!” and entered.

I glanced around and thinking to approach from another entrance, chose another ladder nearby and climbed it, hoping to meet Sparna from a different direction in the same building. When we first entered, the goblins were cowering, but when they saw who we were, they stopped and attacked.

Clearly, whatever had been here was more fearsome than a dwarf wrapped in a tin can. Or a half elf carrying a great axe. From below, Ivan shot a glowing arrow into the room and not only hit a goblin but lit up the room, making the attack even easier.

The next several minutes were a blur, as we took out goblins and moved to the next building. Eventually, everybody ended up on the second level, either attacking or healing. For my part, I got winged once but was quickly healed by Ivan. In general, I either missed, or gravely wounded a goblin. A great axe is fantastic on these little critters.

One thing was clear. The goblins are happy we are us, and not someone or something else. Something to think about. But first, we do need to clear out this area …