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.