Fireday, Sarenith 22, 4712 Sunset
Brinestump Marsh

Two months in Sandpoint and I was still unsure what to do with my life. I was certain I needed to get away… far away. But there was the matter of picking a destination.

Huffy helpfully suggested, “Ask Kali — she’s been all over this part of the world.”

Of course, Kali! She came from some exotic lands far, far away, and has been to other places equally foreign. And like me she had recently returned from Magnimar, although we had only briefly chatted since.

Lately she had taken to hanging out at the Rusty Dragon, Sandpoint’s defacto hang out for travellers and other restless folk. Perhaps she too was looking for a change — when we spoke earlier she had mentioned the need to get away, but I did not think it meant anything more than a visit to the outhouse.

“You! Bath. Now.”

This is Ameiko’s usual greeting for me whenever I enter the Rusty Dragon, although for the life of me I cannot figure out why.

While I was in the bath house Ameiko had someone wash my clothes, and so some time later, reeking of soap and — lavender? — I was finally granted admittance to the common room.

Kali was there deep in conversation with a handful of common acquaintances.

“Yes, they have reinstated the bounty on goblin ears.”

“It’s the Licktoads — they got a hold of fireworks and are terrorizing travel and trade along the Lost Coast Road between here and Magnimar.”

“I heard they’ve actually killed some people.”

“Why the hell did they cancel the bounty? Goblins are like rats: if you let them breed unmolested you’ll have an infestation.”

“A few years back some teenagers went out to collect goblin ears for the bounty and their bodies were found days later. Parents complained.”

“I guess the latest acts of aggression have changed the mayor’s and sheriff’s mind and they are offering 10 gold pieces per goblin ear, and 500 for the head of the Licktoad chief.”

“Yeah, and some fools ran off a few days ago to deal with the goblins, but they never returned.”

“Unprepared.”

“Too few.”

“Inexperienced.”

And that’s when it occurred to me: travel is expensive, and my future plans called for a lot of travel. The goblin bounty would be a great way to quickly earn enough gold to get started.

Obviously I could not go alone: that would be foolish and I’d end up as dead as those unfortunates who set out a few days before.

Sitting around me in various knots of conversations were (mostly) familiar people who boasted a variety of skills that would be useful.

I interrupted Kali’s group and carefully explained my idea of forming a band to slay the marauding goblins and collect the bounties, and asked who would like to participate.

Right away I got seven people who were interested, and they began to discuss what sort of supplies and equipment we might need in the swamp. Machetes, scythes, water proof boots, water proof pants, hey how about a boat, should I bring my horse — wait, what? This organizing by committee was rapidly getting out of hand.

Fortunately Ameiko had kept an ear cocked to our disorganized attempts at planning a campaign and stepped in to offer assistance.

“Before you take off into the marsh, each of you should describe your abilities and discuss tactics you are likely to use when facing foes.”

Before the conversation fell to a discussion on who should start, and if someone should take notes, and whether we had the right type of paper or ink with which to record the events, I introduced myself.

“I’m Qatana. I wield a heavy flail and cause foes to be less competent. Oh, and I can heal… or end suffering — whichever seems more appropriate.”

I then pointed to Kali, who introduced herself and explained her mastery of arcane magics. She also had a bird who could act as a scout. When did she pick up a bird? Cardamom and cloves.

I then nodded to Olmas, whom I knew through Shalelu, albeit not well, “I go by Olmas, and wield a great ax. I prefer mounted combat.” Ah, that explained the request to bring a horse. Grass and horse sweat.

I had run across Ivan out hunting in the woods around Sandpoint years ago, but he vanished a while back. I was surprised to see him. “I’m Ivan, and I use a bow and can offer healing and guidance.” Smoke and brimstone.

Next I pointed to an unfamiliar dwarf heavily armored like a soldier. “Sparna. I use this.” He pulled out a massive pike, which instantly put him in my good graces. Oiled metal and stale beer.

“I am Anavaru and I hunt and usually fight with ranged weapons, and like Olmas I travel with a horse.” Right. A “horse.” Everyone in Sandpoint knew about her horse. Leather and camel dung.

Next was a woman I did not recognize. “I am called Radella. I wield a sword, and I am very observant and quite good with my hands. You might find me helpful in detecting traps and picking locks.” Patchouli and… snake oil?

I knew Etayne, but only casually, and I did not know what she did, or that she had a fox as a friend! “I am Etayne and I offer magic and healing. And this is my companion, Ling.” Whiskey and musk.

Ameiko seemed satisfied with our ad hoc team and pulled up a chair. Gin and sawdust.

“While it is not particularly large, the Brinestump swamp can make travel difficult. The ground is soggy, the undergrowth dense, and the trees crowd close together and block out much of the daylight.”

“There are paths fishermen use, but other creatures, including the goblins, make use of them too. In fact locals tell of a monster that dwells in the swamp and preys upon the unwary or ill prepared.”

“Some years back a recluse built a shack on the shore and he now calls himself the Warden of the Swamp. He is shorter than your friend here,” she said nodding at Sparna, “but he has managed to survive all this time in the swamp, and may give you advice on finding the goblins.”

“If you take the first fishing trail you encounter it will lead you to the beach near his place.”

Within an hour we had gathered our travel gear and met at Sandpoint’s southern bridge, from where we set out on the Lost Coast Road. The day was clear and bright, and the walk pleasant. By mid afternoon we had made our way to the fisherman’s path Ameiko had mentioned.

I led the way along the narrow path, which looked to have been recently travelled, although clearly not regularly. The vegetation became thicker, the ground more damp, and the smell of rotting plants (and other, less pleasant things) filled the air.

“It smells like Takoda’s butt,” squeaked Timber. “Shh,” I hissed, “now is not the time. Keep alert!”

We came to a rickety bridge crossing over one of the channels that make up the Soggy River delta. It had seen better days, but it looked safe enough, and so I crossed.

The others seemed more concerned, and so Kali and Ivan made use of Mending spells to make the structure more sound.

We continued on and the air became more oppressive, and the chirps, whistles, and rustlings of small animals seemed to intensify. Some distance ahead there was a soft splash, and a short while later we came upon another bridge.

We began to see tracks alongside the path: one disturbing set looked like it might have been left by a giant bird. Far off to our left a pig squealed in fear, but it was suddenly cut off.

Another bridge, and recent tracks on the path itself: those of a halfling and human heading in the same direction as us.

Soon the trees thinned out and a short time later the brush opened up, revealing a calm swampy lagoon before us. The tracks led south along the beach, and we followed.

We rounded a hummocky thicket and came upon a two storied shack — signs indicated it was inhabited, and so I called out a greeting, but there was no response.

Anavaru and I walked up to the door as the others fell in behind. Ana knocked.

“Do you think there’ll be mice here?” asked Huffy. McLovin replied earnestly, “Oh yes, I can feel their presence!” “And maybe they will share their food!” added Timber.

The door opened and a halfling stood in the entrance. He was bleeding from numerous wounds, and gaped at us with mouth ajar before saying, “Now is not a good time.” Fear and blood.

Ivan pushed his way up and used a spell to heal him.

The halfling seemed surprised, but thanked him.

That seemed to put our host at ease, and by this time my friends were frantically chanting, “Mice, mice, mice, mice!” Before Pookie broke the cadence with a prolonged squeal of, “Cheeeeeeese!”

It seemed like nothing would quiet them down, and so I stepped through the doorway, with an, “Excuse me, my friends were hoping to find comrades within,” by way of an apology.

First the hallway. Nothing there, and so the next door — ah, a dining room.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Badger, “Check that other door.”

The pantry, and out from the pantry slithered a snake — a viper. Silence from my friends, but the serpent behaved like no wild snake I had ever seen. It passed between my feet and into the dining room.

Curious, but not what I was looking for. Back out into the hall.

Olmas was discussing the goblins with the halfling — I guessed he was the warden Ameiko had told us about, but he seemed confused, and was making little sense. He did seem to think it a good idea that we should go after the goblins right way, but was offering no useful information about what they might have been up to or how to find them.

He denied having been out on the path earlier today, although clearly the two sets of footprints, both halfling and human, were made just hours before and led right up to the shack.

Hmm, yes, interesting, but not very helpful. Our host was standing before another door, but seemed unwilling to move aside.

“Did you know you have a snake in your pantry?” I asked.

“Snake?” said the Warden, “I hate snakes — they bit me! You need to go now and kill all of the goblins.”

Beorn said, “He’s hiding something — he needs to move.”

I pushed the Warden aside and opened the door.

“FRIENDS!” echoed eight little shouts.

Friends indeed. The room was filled with wicker cages of mice and little birds.

How unexpected, but then my guys had been telling me this from the moment we arrived.

“But he’s afraid of snakes,” I said puzzled.

Ivan glanced inside and turned to the Warden and asked, “Why do you have snake food?”

“Oh, I eat those.”

“Really?” I thought, “Then why do you have a pantry full of regular food?”

The Warden was getting positively anxious by now, and Kali had slipped in and suggested that my behavior had put him on edge. My behavior? Olmas and Ivan were the ones talking to him as he got more and more upset, not me.

The Warden was standing next to the remaining closed door where I had pushed him, when suddenly he started, looking fearfully at the door as he edged away.

Olmas reached over and opened it. The room was a vivarium with a score of vipers slithering about.

I thought the halfling was going to faint from the fright. “Snakes, kill the snakes!”

Clearly the halfling was not in his right mind, and thinking that he might be charmed and under mental control of someone else, I climbed the stairs and began to open doors. Ivan was close behind.

But we failed to find anyone else. The first room was an armory of sorts, the second an unused bedroom, and the third clearly belonged to our host.

Kali then called up in Elvish that the halfling was radiating some form of transmutation magic, and maybe I would be needed downstairs.

Oddly enough the Warden answered back (a hermit halfling that can speak Elvish?) that it was probably just the result of Ivan’s healing spell. Hmm, conjuration: not likely.

Meanwhile downstairs the Warden finally snapped and ran up the stairs to stand threateningly in front of me.

“Bite him!” snapped Star.

This did not seem like the best of advice, but perhaps if he saw me swinging my flail he might feel more inclined to talk.

No. He did not. Instead he transformed from a feeble looking halfling to a human sized creature with boney limbs, long claws, and a featureless face.

What the hell? I should have listened to Star.

He slashed at me and grabbed me with surprisingly strong arms. Fortunately Olmas and Sparna were hot on its heals, although the narrow stairwell made it difficult for them to reach the thing.

Olmas and Sparna each tried to hit it, but missed, which at least caused the thing to let me go and strike at Olmas.

Ivan let fly an arrow and shot it, and then both Olmas and Sparna struck it solidly, felling it. They drug its bleeding body downstairs, where I killed it.

So if this was not the Warden, then where was he? Radella had been out scouting around the grounds and said she had seen signs of a struggle, and so we searched both in and out for the body of the halfling.

Instead we found a secret door to a bolt hole, where the Warden was hiding. He had been seriously injured, but after a little channeled energy he (along with Olmas and I) felt much better.

He explained that the creature was a “stalker,” which could assume the shape of its victim. They roamed the swamps, which is why he kept vipers, their mortal enemies, but this one caught him outside, beyond the aid of his snake friends.

He introduced himself as Walthus Proudstump, aka the Warden of the Swamp. Mouse and bird droppings.

Walthus was very grateful, and invited us to spend dinner and the night at his place. He also gave us a cloak of resistance, which was nice. It was also too small for any of us except Sparna to wear.

[100] +1 cloak of resistance (small) (Sparna)

He was also happy to provide information about the Licktoad goblins.

They lived deeper within the swamp, in a ramshackle fort they built for themselves. There were a couple of fishermen’s paths that led to their stronghold which we could take one to get to them, although it was likely to be watched.

He discouraged trying to trailblaze through the swamp and so come upon the goblins from an unexpected route. The mires, bogs and creatures — especially the Soggy River Monster — would make that route unnecessarily dangerous.

We will set out first thing in the morning.

 

Starday, Sarenith 23, 4712 Mid day
Brinestump Marsh

We ate a hasty breakfast and wished Walthus well, promising we would return at nightfall if we were in need of a nearby place to stay.

After back tracking over yesterday’s path we found the trail leading to the goblin fort. Little footprints of goblins and their dogs showed they must race up and down the path like squirrels.

The same sights, sounds as smells as the day before assaulted us, with the stench becoming especially stronger as the sun rose higher in the sky. We came across more bridges, and an unexpected fork in the way, at which we went west (right) further into the swamp.

Presently we came upon a crudely built fort: a palisades of rotting timbers driven into the muddy ground extending on either side of a foul smelling pool.

A gate had once barred entry, but had been pulled down and was lying, broken upon the ground.

We cautiously approached and looked around. Lots of little goblin prints ran out from the gateway, over the fallen gate (which appeared to have been pushed down from within). There were also human sized prints, but these were from boney feet — boney as in skeletal!

The structures within were on stilts to keep them about five feet up off the muck (and I had always thought goblins were beneath such cares), and raised covered walkways connected them.

The smell of smoke filled the air, and we could see that at least one of the goblin buildings had burned to the ground.

But a much stronger and far more wretched smell came from a large pit just inside the gate. Refuse, bones, and goblin corpses littered the bottom, and large black flies buzzed about, swarming anyone who came too near.

We carefully walked around the pit, and Sparna climbed up the short ladder to peer inside the first building. He called out, “Goblins!” and entered.

Kali looked at me with concern and asked, “Do you think this is right?”

“No, but healing might be needed,” I answered and followed Sparna.

Olmas climbed onto a walkway and entered from that direction.

There were perhaps a dozen goblins cowering in the corner. They seemed fairly pathetic and cowed at first, but when they saw us their look changed from that of prey to predator. Ah well, I needed the gold anyway.

Ivan shot an glowing arrow into the room, hitting a goblin and lighting up the space.

And so went our first fight together, with ranged folk sending in arrows and spells from a distance while the rest of us bashed goblin skulls to paste.

Goblins from another building leaned out a window and began to shoot arrows at our party outside, but they turned their attacks to this new threat, eliminating it in short order.

Our goblins were killed, and we quickly followed the walkways from building to building. At some point we unintentionally separated into small groups as we opened doors, and so when Radella opened a door and yelled, “Lots of goblins!”
we had to scramble to get over to her.

Lots there were, and these put up stiff resistance, but we eventually killed them all, slaying the last one as it fled toward a pair of double doors.

The doors were barred.

We’ve taken a moment to gather together — how the hell could Kali risk exploring a full quarter of the fort on her own? I have drawn a quick sketch of the goblin fort layout based upon what we have seen thus far.