Two weeks ago a juvenile black dragon had raised several outlying farms. One week ago a force of goblins and ogres infiltrated the city and ambushed innocent festival goers. Several hours ago a man was found encased in glass and a fight with goblins dragged across a the work floor of a glassblowing factory. Ten minutes ago the party killed a four thousand year old psychotic mephit priestess in an ancient underground demon worshiping temple. At least it was paying well. "I want the tiara" the swashbuckler casually remarked as he slid the miniature headpiece onto his finger like a ring. The heroes of Sandpoint slung sacks of treasure over their shoulders and marched back to the surface.
Not one week later and the Mayor of Sandpoint has once again asked them to help the small village in it's time of need. The city was at it's breaking point between an increase in monster attacks, unsolved murders, organized crime at the docks, and now the all too real threat of an organized assault on the city by a goblin force. Things were not looking well and the entire city was aware of it. Sheriff Hemlock had rode hard for Magnimar to request additional men at arms but has yet to return. Citizen militia patrol the streets and walls alongside the few remaining guards. Tensions run high in the city as new fears and uncertainties arise with every day. The city of Sandpoint was seeking any help it could afford. "There's an island just off the coast. Here." The mayor placed her finger on a point of the map unraveled across her desk. "We think this is where the goblin leadership is. Investigate the island and see what's going on. Report back with your findings... stop them if you can." The adventurers gathered in the mayors office exchanged glances and silently confirmed each others willingness to participate. The agreement was struck and the party turned to leave the office. The mayor spoke up before they reached the door. "We're depending on you".
The moonlight cast a pale blue shade across the thickly tangled coastal forest. The sound of waves crashing on the distant shore did nothing to hide the silence that overwhelmed the small forest of tangled and thorny trees. Somewhere on the other side of this scrub was the hideout the party sought. A violent religious psychopath and her army of goblin minions. Somewhere in this mess they would find their answers. The party quickly set to work infiltrating the hostile territory. The Nettlewood, thickly tangled with poisonous plants and thorns, has long served as the home for the regions most powerful goblin tribe. Naturally it made sense for the leadership to operate from this area. Adoultin the druid slipped effortlessly into the tangled mess of thorn bushes and nettle weeds while his companions secured the area. It wasn't long before he returned with his report on the goblins within the forest. Several were camped to the northwest, along the cliff face. There were also goblin dogs, in essence overgrown mangy rats, being kept in a crude kennel further to the north. A druid and his firepelt cougar companion resided in a lair to the east of the briar forest. Most importantly was the rope bride connecting to the small northern island. The rickety wooden fort erected on the island could be nothing other than what they had come here to find. Fires burning from within and visible patrols gave the heroes of Sandpoint something to think about while they devised their plan of attack.
The two goblins chattered noisily as they rolled dice and argued over made up rules. Not one of them saw the druid emerge from the wall of thorns like some terrible shadow. He sank his blade deep into the nearest slumbering goblin. As the stifled screams drew their attention a roaring behemoth charged from the darkness behind them and directly into the midst of the goblin camp. The two goblins watched in horror as the beast tore the nearest goblin to pieces in a savage blur of teeth, claws, and blood. At the same time the sound of an object sailing through the air preceded the unmistakable impact of a crossbow bolt blowing a hole through one of the goblin's throats. The dice fell to the ground and within moments a violent and confused melee erupted under the moonlight. Fires smoldered in their pits and dimly illuminated the faces of their attackers as they hacked down goblins with reckless abandon. Shadows lept and danced along the briar walls of the camp as a surreal nightmare unfolded. Somewhere in the distance the goblin dogs began to bark and howl furiously, as if they knew what was happening. The last thing the goblin saw was the beast. It was clad in a queer wooden armor and resembled a bear, but no bear the goblin had ever seen. Bears didn't wear armor. Blood and chunks of goblin matter leaked from the beasts mouth as it's murderous rampage paused only to assess the petrified goblin. The next few moments of the goblins life were mercifully short.
Across the tangled forest the druid Gogmurt petted his firepelt companion and grumbled to himself. The howling of the goblin dogs and the screams of the goblin refugees were faintly heard in the distance. He had warned the chief not to interfere with the humans. He had warned him not to trust the strange human woman. He warned them all and now vengeance was amongst them. He knew these humans would be the end the tribe, but his obligation to the land was strong. This was goblin land, not human land. Even if the chief was misguided, Gogmurt could not let these humans desecrate goblin lands. The druid sighed as he prepared himself for combat with the band of humans. It wouldn't be long before they came past him on their way to Chief Ripnugget. Grabbing a messenger bird form it's cage, he tied a bloody tooth to it's leg and sent it across the water. Ripnugget would know what it meant. The druid disappeared into the tangled and thorny underbrush just off the side of the trail. If the humans were going to come through here, he would be ready to give them a fight. The firepelt cougar stretched and yawned. It was time to hunt.
After a brief but bloody fight, the adventures peered from the edge of the path in the thorn forest and across the suspended rope bridge. The night fires of the fortress were few in number, and only several patrols could be spotted around the fort itself. The moon high in the sky above them provided sufficient light to assess the goblins defenses. The ranger peered behind her and watched two others tie and gag the unconscious goblin druid. The sorcerer was muttering to himself and trying to skin the cougar. The ranger shook her head and turned around to continue observing the fortress. This was not going to be easy...
By Fire & Sword: Battle of patrols 19/5/2013 AAR
44 minutes ago