Sessioon XIV - The Goblin Night Attack

As the night of 27th of September rolled in, Blade and Blacklight retired to have some well-deserved tea and cookies on the expense of their "landlady". For the last two days they had been rebuilding the hut, after Blacklight brought down one of the walls during a strenuous yoga-exercise (don't ask). The clay hut had been rather small, but the two fighters-turned-carpenters decided to build the new hut of wooden poles and add some space while they were at it. Such a course of events made Minna the landlady very happy and she showed her appreciation as best she could - tea and cookies it was. After this the fighters turned in for the night.

Somewhere a dog barked and a few drunken inn patrons made their way homewards, as the moon slipped behind the ill-boding dark clouds, leaving the poor quarter of Marketplace wrapped in total darkness. Almost soundlessly, a number of dark figures surged forward unseen on narrow pathways between the shabby huts made of clay and wood, whose residents had no idea of the evil that was passing under their very doors and windows. The dark figures inflitrated the poor quarter from all directions simultaneously, and converged on the hut in which they knew their prey would lie in sleep.

Someone struck a light and lit a torch, and many followed his actions. The light revealed the ugly, monstrous faces of humanoids that could be no other than goblins, led by a large hobgoblin. Their goblin weapons, tainted with rust, mud and dried blood, gave off a faint glint in the torchlight, and their scarred faces and worn-out leather armors indicated them to be no strangers to making use of these tools of death.

The large hobgoblin barked a short order in a deep, beastly voice, and torches flew on the hut, igniting its wooden walls and its straw roof. The goblins assumed their positions around the hut, ready to run through anyone attempting to escape the fiery bite of the flames that now enveloped the hut. Inside, something stirred and made a noise. In a matter of seconds, someone rose in the hut. The goblin with a crossbow had waited for this very moment in short distance of the window, he took aim and sent a bolt on its way. A silent meow of pain came from the inside, as it hit the side of a glowing Llama. Then a human rose, and the goblin took aim once more - the bolt hit true and with a resounding thwack! pierced the human's neck, who let out a horrible roar. The goblin smacked his lips gleefully in appreciation of a good shot, waiting for the target, whom he now knew to be Blacklight, to fall flat on the floor, spurting fountains of blood in all directions. To his immeasurable surprise the ranger ducked from view, still standing strong. A moment later, the goblins heard a muffled shout from inside and then the burning roof collapsed on the inhabitants, an old woman screamt her death scream and then...

...the ranger came through the front door like a ton of bricks, shattering the door into splinters and showering the spot where the hobgoblin stood with sharp bits of burning wood like shrapnel. The hobgoblin had managed to cover himself with a shield and attacked in return, but missed. Once outside, Blacklight's heart gave a jump - the hut was surrounded by enemies.

LaLa the lama spat and bit his way through the ranks of goblins and reached relative safety.

The goblins watching the other side of the hut were in for a similar surprise - Blade made his way through the dug-in pole-wall there, creating a hole large enough for him to get through. However, his attempts were blocked by two well-equipped goblins, one bashing his shortsword against his shield and the other furiously swinging a sword and an axe. As their attacks bounced off his armor, Blade tried to grapple the goblin who swung two weapons, but alas! unsuccessfully. The goblin was not fortunate either - when trying to block Blade's advance, he had struck him with the axe, but his hand trembled in the sight of the mighty warrior and the heavy blow landed into the wall, burying the axe deep into the wood. This was not going well. The goblins tried to stab Blade once more, and this time one was successful, making a shallow cut on Blade's body. This seemed to enrage the fighter to no small degree, and he bull rushed the now axe-less goblin right before him. The small creature had no chance, as the full power of Blade's mighty muscles was brought into play - the fighter charged through the wall and bits of burning wood went flying around him as he came straight through the opening like a cannon ball on fire and hit the goblin dead on. The goblin was swept from his feet like a feather and the two landed an incredible 25 feet away from the hut.

In the meantime, Blacklight was teaching his opponents about the sly ways of a spiked chain. In less than 20 seconds he had tripped and killed the hobgoblin chief and a goblin wielding a shortspear, in front of him another goblin with a shortspear laid, prone and badly hurt. The crossbowman tried to send bolt after bolt into the ranger at point blank range, but to no avail - the first bolt, fired in haste, had hit the hobgoblin critically in the biceps and spun him around, making him an easy prey for Blacklight. The rest of the bolts either bounced off the ranger's armor or just scratched his body, making minor wounds. The goblin ran away terrified as Blacklight tripped the last of the melee fighters in a spectacular manner, flipping the poor guy over backwards so hard that the goblin's head hit a rock when landing, making an ugly crunching sound, and followed up with a punishing whip of the chain.

On the other side of the hut, Blade finished up the two combatants and scared away an archer who was set on hitting him with an arrow, until he saw that no-one else was left standing and thought it better to show Blade his heels.

The three goblins still alive out of 9 attackers made an attempt to escape, but Blacklight stopped the crossbow-bearing goblin dead in his tracks with a well-placed shot, and the goblin collapsed with an arrow through his back. Blade did not bother to give chase to the archer, and one of the spear-wielders also got away. This left the axeman that Blacklight had tripped. As the swirling spiked chain made standing up dangerous, the axeman pulled a throwing knife from a bracelet and hurled it towards the elf, betting his life on this one throw. The knife missed. The ranger towered in front of him like Death become flesh... and the goblin, shockrealizing the folly of his very possibly last action, instantly begged for mercy. Blade and Blacklight relented, sensing an opportunity to gather some information about their attackers.

Blacklight managed to look incredibly menacing, wearing a spiked chain still dripping of goblin blood, a crossbow bolt through his neck, and a ruthless grin that implied life without testicles, should the goblin not spill his beans in a suitably forthcoming manner.

The goblin talked. He told the adventurers how he and his fellows were hired in the town of Skullreave by an unknown goblin for a considerable sum of money to track down the adventurers, how they had followed the adventuring party's tracks since the village where Sikomor had stayed, through Vanguard keep and the wasteland, stopping to go around the swamp that the travellers had so foolheartily crossed. He also spoke of strange Thraneians with golden eyes, mystical humanoids bent on the destruction of Breland and Aundair. When Blade and Blacklight moved away to ponder upon the fates of the axeman, the latter cut the ropes binding him by an incredible stroke of luck and fled. LaLa bit the face of the fleeing goblin and the adventurers also considered sending him a couple of arrows for companionship, but then thought better of themselves and let him escape alive.

The night was young, and the bodies of the fallen were already being looted by the old people who had suddenly appeared from little huts surrounding the scene. Little old ladies were trying on goblin armor and men were proudly swinging the small goblin weapons. All the people felt that they had won a great battle here.

Keepers of Eberron accompanied by their glowing Llama then found an old broken hut and converted it to an improvised tent. There was still time to sleep.

Session XII/XIII: the village of Marketplace

The trip had been long and arduous, but eventually it came to a close, as the party found itself at the walls of a small settlement. A short negotiation with the gate guards produced not only safe entrance, but a potential buyer for the bag of naughty books that the adventurers couldn't wait to get rid of.

But the village of Marketplace hardly justified the expectations of the party, which had been on the road for the last several weeks. It was no more than a handful of huts clustered at the sides of some market stalls, with the only distinguishing feature being a Lightning Rail station. It was this that gave the adventurers a good idea. After all this time, the pleasure of each other's company was wearing thin, and it seemed a good idea to split up, and collect information on what happened to the Keepers of Eberron. Having found themselves in the middle of a war between Aundair and Thrane, with the rest of Khorvaire nations choosing sides, the remaining Keepers would surely be glad to see their surviving mates.

So, having talked to the local big wig and sold off the accumulated loot, they split up the profits and went their separate ways. Maryo and Sikomor headed to Aundair, the former to check on his bakery and find out if the Keepers could enlist the help of the mercenary company run by one of their high-ranking members; Sikomor wanted to meet her grandfather and grandmother, heroes of old . Lachlan chose to head south, to Zilargo, and gather information about the goblins. Borlander couldn't make up his mind, so he ended up going along with Maryo and Sikomor.

This left the team's two fighters. Blacklight was eager to complete his mission and deliver LaLa to the customer, and so he wanted to go to Breland; Blade chose to join him, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, the raging war had limited the freedom of passage. While the House of Orien remained neutral, providing its services to all, civilian passengers travelling from the borderlands were forbidden to bring weapons on the train. A bit of brainstorming, and the fighters came up with the idea of hiring themselves out as guards for a freight shipment. This would hopefully give them an excuse to carry arms, and maybe even a bit of extra gold.

For now, with purses flush, Blade and Blacklight went shopping. Over the last few weeks, Blacklight had sorely missed having a ranged weapon, and was now committed to getting the best bow Marketplace could offer. After a bit of rummaging through the assorted wares, they found a weapon truly fit for a Wood Elf, a marvelous composite bow. Blade's jealousy almost got the better of him, but he regained enough control to buy a slightly lesser one - though still quite impressive. The fighters also augmented their armour, and resupplied their rations. Still, something was on their mind.

With the loss of Sikomor, the significantly reduced adventuring party had no healing facilities with them - and no time to train in the medicinal arts. The word on the street spoke of someone who could help them, the town witch, who kept a modest store of magical baubles.

The witch had just the item to offer them: a large pot of powerful healing salve, something that would surely last them a while. But she was not willing to part with it for a coin and a thank you. The witch had an agenda of her own, something that a couple of strong men proficient in combat could certainly help with.

As it turned out, the local merchants had become somewhat disillusioned with the market chief. Blade and Blacklight cared little for motivation; there was a man in town who needed killin', and they had a day or two to spare. The witch suggested that before they went after the head, they could make an effort to thin the ranks of his goons somewhat. Even with a mass of Thranean soldiers passing through the town on their way to the front line, the chief's gang was a formidable force. When the witch offered the adventurers a way to knock some heads, and maybe make some serious money in the process, they could hardly refuse.

Marketplace was a dreary little frontier settlement, and its entertainment was skewed to the simplistic side. The biggest game in town was the Knuckle Ring, a tournament of roughnecks with a betting pool attached. After checking out the action in the scope of an afternoon, Blade and Blacklight were ready to get down to business, with the help of a few of the witch's special potions. Passing through the first few rounds with ease, they found that only the last two opposing teams were any sort of match for them at all.

To the roaring approval of the crowd, they first dispatched an old man and a local musclebound type with relative ease. Tensions were running high, and the last battle was to the death. Faced with a lightfooted ninja and a robust troll, the adventurers had to use all their skill. The startled crowd barely believed their eyes, knowing that the implausible techniques displayed by the opponents would be the subject of heated debate in Marketplace's inns for months to come. Finally Blade and Blacklight prevailed, and with the top fighters in the chief's gang eliminated, they were ready to collect their winnings and proceed with the next phase.

Most of the goons were holed up in their barracks, waiting for dinner. With a choice poison from the witch's stock in his grasp, Blacklight applied his ranger instincts to quietly crawl through the kitchen window. After making sure that the broth still looks and smells edible (and in fact far improving those qualities from the original state), the Wood Elf was about to leave, when an unfortunate trip alerted the men to his presense. Blacklight was forced to act his way out of trouble, pretending to be a poor beggar who was just trying to steal a bit of bread and soup to feed his family. The goons of a rank hole such as Marketplace were apparently far too stupid to wonder why the beggar was an elf with battle armor poorly concealed by a worn, but still good traveller's outfit.

Having despatched the goons, it was time for Blade and Blacklight to take care of the market chief. The two combat masters attacked the two-storey stone house with a flurry of carnage, working their way through half a dozen armed men before finally finding the chief, now protected by a single crossbowman, in his nightgown. Blade was feeling particularly humanitarian that night, refusing to kill a sleeping drunkard in one of the rooms; however, this did not preclude him from eliminating the rest of the opponents. Chasing the market chief down a crawlspace and into the first-floor storage room, they found not only a dead man, but also a slew of goods of various value. The chief's exotic ringmail, additional protection wearable under regular armor, and a bundle of precious cloth were the only things the adventurers chose to take. But their day was not yet over: on their way out the door, they were greeted by half a dozen Thranean soldiers.

The fight with the soldiers was difficult, with Blacklight even forced to dig into his cache of health food (the acorns from the Tree of Life), but by using a doorway as a choke point and Blacklight's spiked chain as an excellent tripping tool, they were able to defeat the foes. Their last murder of the day happened when they were leaving the building. As they heard a witness scuttle away from the door, it was an excellent opportunity for Blacklight to test out his new toy. The composite bow fired true, and Blade made another mark in his little black book as the adventurers headed back to the witch's place for their just reward and some much-needed healing.

A day's rest and some cooperation from the locals the tiny party had to pay their own bribes to get on the Lightning Rail as a merchant's guards, and the train would not take them all the way to Sharn, but it was good enough.
A human spear-merchant called Regerik would take them to a goblin-controlled railroad crossing between Hatheril and Dragons Crown, from where the party would have to venture on by themselves. The Regerik's own teams consisted of 8 short, scrawny and dirty warforged, who didn't look built for war.

Despite getting a nice chuckle out of the hastily printed poster graphically depicting the carnage of the previous night to illiterate townsfolk, the fighters felt that Marketplace had nothing more to offer them. Unfortunately the next train would leave no earlier than 10 days later and the party had no other choice than to seek lodging. Since they had to lie low for the next days,
it made sense to find as inconspicuous a place as possible, and indeed, soon they found a small
clay hut whose owner, a friendly-looking old hag called Minna, was gladly willing to lodge them for ten days, at the cost of 1GP per day. The fighters and their llama settled in for what would be a long and hopefully boring wait.

It was the morning of September 22nd.


Maryo, Sikomor and Bolander head North and Lachlan South. Blade & Blacklight remain in the town to catch a lightning rail that would eventually allow them to reach the city of Sharn in far South-West (not on this map).