The bustling city of Havenreach surrounds you with its sights and sounds as midday sun warms the cobblestone streets. You've only been here three days since leaving your quiet elven hometown behind.
Ahead, a growing crowd gathers in the city square, their excited voices rising above the normal market chatter. As you approach, you see people forming a ring around two figures - one a well-dressed nobleman brandishing a rapier, the other a weathered city guard captain with a grim expression.
"Last chance to retract your accusation, Captain Voss!" the nobleman calls out, twirling his blade with practiced flourish. "Or meet me in proper duel!"
You push through the edge of the growing crowd, finding a spot where you can clearly see the two figures in the center. The nobleman wears a smirk of arrogant confidence, his rapier glinting in the sunlight. Captain Voss, though older and clad in worn leather armor, stands firm, his hand resting on the hilt of his service sword, his gaze unwavering. A tense silence falls over the square as the crowd watches, captivated.
'Very well, Captain,' the nobleman sneers, lowering into a dueling stance. 'If you insist on defending that absurd accusation, you'll do so with steel!'
Captain Voss draws his sword, the sound echoing slightly in the hush. 'For the good of Havenreach, Lord Atherton, I will.'
Your voice, surprisingly loud for a goblin halfbreed, cuts through the tension in the square. Several heads turn, some in annoyance, others in amusement, as your declaration echoes. Lord Atherton pauses his menacing stance for a split second, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he refocuses on Captain Voss. The Captain, however, gives no sign he heard, his eyes fixed on his opponent. A few murmurs ripple through the crowd – some chuckling, some shaking their heads. The duelists ignore you, their blades clashing with a sudden, sharp clang as Atherton lunges.
With a dismissive grunt, you turn your back on the clashing steel and murmuring crowd. The duel, for all its pomp, offers little excitement for your tastes, and the prospect of waiting for an outcome feels tedious. You weave through the throng of onlookers, their faces still rapt with anticipation, and emerge from the square onto a less crowded side street. The sounds of the market and the distant clang of swords slowly fade behind you, replaced by the gentler creak of a distant wagon wheel and the occasional bark of a street dog. Tall, shadowed buildings loom on either side, their upper floors adorned with pots of wilting flowers. The afternoon sun still bathes the city in a warm glow, but this street feels quieter, more forgotten, a stark contrast to the drama you just abandoned.
The quiet, shadowed street holds little of interest, confirming your assessment of its dullness. Your single-minded quest to find your goblin shaman father, and extract vengeance for your mother, burns brighter than any trivial city distraction. Dungeons. That's where you'll find him, or at least a lead. But how does one find a dungeon in a new city?
You glance around, taking in the sparse street. A few shuttered shops, the peeling paint of a forgotten merchant's sign, and further down, the faint, boisterous laughter spilling from a doorway. An inn, perhaps, or a tavern. Such places were often a nexus for information, rumors, and, most importantly, adventurers who might know of nearby delves and dark places.
This Inn looks like it may be of use. Good thing it's a brothel as well. Who knees stumbling down a lonely street would lead me to the pleasure district. Now I can grab me some ale and a broad and most importantly, some information on the nearest dungeon.
The laughter grows louder as you approach the building. A crudely painted sign above the door depicts a buxom woman holding a tankard, confirming your suspicion. The establishment, a sprawling wooden structure, emits a discordant symphony of drunken shouts, bawdy singing, and the rhythmic creak of floorboards. Pushing open the heavy oak door, you're hit with a wave of stale ale, cheap perfume, and woodsmoke.
Inside, the main common room is a haze of activity. Rough-hewn tables are packed with patrons – weathered merchants, boisterous guardsmen, and cloaked figures hunched over their drinks. Along a raised platform, several women in varying states of undress mingle with customers, their laughter echoing through the smoky air. A stout barkeep polishes glasses behind a long, scarred counter, his eyes darting across the room, missing nothing. The air practically hums with gossip and whispered dealings.
Bahdjinn says to himself "Now this is my type of place" I walk over to the bartender and tell him to pour me the biggest horn of ale he has as well as bringing him a girl he can choose from to have fun with and get information from.
The stout barkeep, a man with forearms like cured hams, eyes your goblin features with a flicker of surprise, quickly masked by professional indifference. "Biggest horn of ale, eh? And a lass for company?" He chuckles, a low rumble from deep within his chest. "You got coin for both, half-pint?" As you confirm, he slides a hefty, foam-topped horn across the scarred counter, the amber liquid sloshing temptingly.
With a nod towards the raised platform, he calls out, "Elara! Customer for ya!" A woman with striking, fiery red hair and a dress the color of twilight detaches herself from a group of patrons, her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, assessing you with a practiced gaze. She saunters over, a faint scent of jasmine preceding her.
Bahdjinn says to her " Well if you aren't one of the prettiest little dames I ever came across." Names Bahdjinn darling, would you happen to be accompanying to my room for the rest of the night?"
Elara's lips curve into a practiced, alluring smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she takes in your declaration. "Bahdjinn, is it? A charmer, and a quick one too, I see." She lightly trails a finger along your arm, her touch brief but leaving a tingle. "I'm Elara. And yes, darling, I'm always happy to provide company for the right price. My rooms are upstairs, and the night is young." She pauses, her gaze lingering, a silent question in her eyes about your intentions beyond the immediate flirtation. The scent of jasmine intensifies as she leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a softer, more inviting tone.
Bahdjinn drinks his entire Ale in one gulp and grabs Elara by the hand and says to her "Nope now let's get going baby" Bahdjinn runs with Elara up to one of the rooms where he comes across a Bow with Emeralds embedded into the frame making him wonder if it's enchanted.
You drain the last drop of ale, the horn clattering against the counter as you seize Elara's hand. "Now let's get going, baby!" you declare, pulling her with surprising strength towards the stairs. Elara stumbles slightly, a gasp escaping her lips, but she recovers quickly, a bemused grin replacing her initial surprise as you half-drag her up the creaking wooden steps.
The room upstairs is dimly lit by a single lantern, the air thick with the scent of cheap incense. As your eyes adjust, they immediately fall upon a finely crafted longbow propped against a worn wooden chest. Its dark wood gleams, inlaid with several small, verdant emeralds that catch the faint light. It looks expensive, well-made, and you can't help but wonder if its beauty hides some deeper, arcane power.
While in the bedroom Bahdjinn is watching Elara as she locks the door behind them. Elara then says to Bahdjinn "Any last words Gobby" Bahdjinn replies with saying "Oh a cute little nick name based off of my race huh? Very well then" Bahdjinn uses a gust of wind Magic and rips Elara's clothes off with one swoosh exposing her petit breasts and fat ass.
"Oh, a cute little nickname, based off my race, huh? Very well then," you retort, a smirk playing on your lips. You gesture with your hand, focusing, expecting a surge of arcane power to unleash a gust of wind. Yet, nothing happens. No swirling air, no rush of magic, just the quiet hum of the lantern and Elara's amused, expectant gaze. Your attempt at magical display falls flat, leaving only an awkward silence.
Elara raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Well, that was... anticlimactic, 'Gobby.' Were you planning a magic trick, or just trying to fan me?" She chuckles softly, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and a hint of something more predatory. "Now, about those 'last words'..." Her hand, still holding the key, drops to her side, and she takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, her gaze unwavering.
Bahdjinn begins undressing her exposing her petit breasts and pulling her pants down to reveal her big ass
You reach out, your fingers finding the laces of Elara's dress. With a practiced ease, you begin to unfasten them, the fabric sliding away to reveal the soft curve of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts. She meets your gaze, a sly smile playing on her lips, her hands rising to help you. The dress pools at her feet, and you quickly follow, pulling down her undergarments, revealing the smooth expanse of her lower back and the shapely curve of her buttocks. The air in the room grows heavy with anticipation, the sounds of the inn fading as a more primal rhythm takes over. Her eyes, however, still hold a calculating glint, a silent question about what you truly seek.
While in the middle of having sex Bahdjinn asks her about the contents of the bows origins and if she knows anything about it but to no avail because Elara's screams are so loud from how much pleasure she is receiving the entire inn can hear her screams and moans of pleasure.
The night unfolds with a mix of whispered words and passionate encounters. You try to steer the conversation towards the mysterious emerald-inlaid bow, but Elara's attention is captivated by the moment. Her responses are a delightful mix of breathless sighs and playful teasing, effectively drowning out any chance of extracting meaningful information about the bow's origins. The sounds emanating from the room indeed draw the attention of the entire inn, a testament to the intensity of the experience.
As the first blush of dawn begins to paint the sky outside the grimy window, a sense of calm returns to the room. Elara, flushed and disheveled, lies beside you, her earlier intensity replaced by a soft, contented purr. You still have your ale-fueled question lingering about the bow, but the opportunity to ask it clearly had passed amidst the night's revelry.
When morning comes Bahdjinn asks Elara to join him on his quest and to become his party member and her makes an offer she can't possible refuse. Once Elara becomes the newest party member Bahdjinn and Elara stumble across a cloaked ranger who is told to have information on the whereabouts of the nearest dungeon thanks to the help of the shop owner they stopped at before heading out of town.
The first light of dawn casts long, sleepy shadows across the room as you turn to Elara, a new resolve in your eyes. "Elara," you begin, your voice a low murmur in the quiet morning, "I'm on a quest, a grand one, to find a goblin shaman and... well, let's just say he owes me a meeting. And I think you, my dear, would make an excellent companion." You pause, letting the words hang in the air, then add, "Join me, and I'll make you an offer you can't refuse. Adventure, riches... and perhaps a bit more excitement than this inn can provide."
Elara slowly blinks her eyes open, a soft smile gracing her lips as she stretches luxuriously, her body arching like a cat. She props herself up on one elbow, her red hair a tangled halo around her face. Her gaze, still heavy with sleep, finds yours, and a genuine laugh bubbles up from her chest. "Adventure, you say, Gobby? And riches? You certainly have a way with words." She traces a finger along your jawline, her expression turning thoughtful. "This old inn might seem dull, but it offers a certain... stability. And you, Bahdjinn, seem to attract a different kind of excitement altogether. Convince me. What exactly is this grand quest, and what makes you think I'd be suited for a life beyond these four walls?"
Come with me and I can show you the world outside these walls
Elara's eyes, still sparkling with the afterglow of the night, meet yours. A slow smile spreads across her face. "The world outside these walls, eh? You paint a tempting picture, Gobby." She stretches, rising from the bed with a feline grace, and begins to gather her scattered clothes. "Very well, Bahdjinn. A new adventure it is. This inn has seen enough of my charms for a while. Just don't expect me to sleep in a cold, damp dungeon."
With Elara now an eager, if slightly reluctant, companion, you both leave the inn, stepping out into the bright morning light. The city is fully awake and bustling. As you make your way towards the city gates, you recall the shop owner's words about a ranger who knew the lay of the land. It isn't long before you spot him – a figure cloaked in dark greens and browns, leaning against the weathered stone of a merchant's stall, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with a practiced alertness.
Hello stranger. Might I trouble you for a bit of information about these lands? Dungeons to be more frank
The cloaked ranger, a wiry figure whose face is mostly obscured by the shadow of his hood, slowly turns his head at your approach. His eyes, keen and dark, assess you and Elara with a silent intensity. He takes a long, deliberate sip from a waterskin before answering, his voice a gravelly murmur.
"Information ain't free, stranger. Especially not the kind that leads into the dark places of this world." He eyes Elara briefly, then his gaze settles back on you, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "And dungeons, you say? What business does a goblin half-breed and a... well, a lady of the night, have with such dangerous places?" His hand subtly shifts, resting near the hilt of a worn, leather-bound knife tucked into his belt.
Bahdjinn pulls out a brown sack filled with silver coins. "I need that information on the dungeon sooner then later guy. And Elara isn't a lady of the night she's my lady. Go ahead Elara, tell this guy just exactly what it is you do for def ending yourself whether it's magic or fighting"
You flash the sack of silver, its contents jingling softly, a promise of payment for his knowledge. "I need that information sooner than later, guy," you press, gesturing to Elara. "And Elara isn't a lady of the night, she's my lady. Go ahead, Elara, tell this guy just exactly what it is you do for defending yourself, whether it's magic or fighting."
The ranger's eyes narrow further, barely glancing at the silver. "Your 'lady,' you say?" he drawls, his voice laced with skepticism. He looks Elara up and down, then dismisses your words with a shake of his head. "Doesn't much matter what she does, half-breed. You look like you'd get yourselves killed in the first ten minutes of any real dungeon, and I don't fancy having your blood on my hands, or your silver in my pocket if it means drawing trouble." Elara shifts uncomfortably beside you, a flicker of irritation crossing her features as she clears her throat, but remains silent, sensing the ranger's dismissive tone.
Come on Elara this jerk doesn't wanna help. Let's go to the shop and get you some equipment
"See, Elara?" you grumble, the ranger's dismissive attitude clearly rankling you. "Some people just don't know a good thing when they see it." You turn your back on the unhelpful ranger, who merely shrugs, his gaze already returning to the bustling street.
"No matter," Elara says, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. "His loss."
Together, you both head away from the ranger's stall. "First things first," you declare, "we need to get you properly outfitted. Can't have my lady venturing into dungeons without the right gear." You scan the surrounding market street, looking for a suitable establishment—a general store, an armorer, anything that might stock adventuring essentials. Your eyes fall upon a sturdy-looking building with a sign depicting a crossed hammer and sword. 'The Adventurer's Respite,' it reads.
Before going into the adventure's respite
Bahdjinn asks Elara what she can do when it comes to fighting and what her skills are of that nature
As you approach the heavy oak doors of the Adventurer's Respite, you turn to Elara. "Before we go in, 'my lady'," you say with a wink, "this dungeon-crawling business can be a bit... rough. What exactly are your talents when it comes to a scrap? Can you swing a sword, cast a spell, or perhaps talk a goblin's ears off?"
Elara crosses her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, Gobby," she replies, a wry smile playing on her lips, "my talents lean more towards persuasion and understanding the needs of others, which, believe it or not, can be just as potent as any spell in certain situations. I'm quick on my feet, and I've learned a thing or two about observation and distracting a foe when necessary. I won't be cleaving goblins in two, perhaps, but I can certainly ensure we don't get ourselves into too much trouble, or at least help us get out of it." Her gaze flickers to the nearby alleyways, a subtle hint of street-smarts in her eyes.
I like that. Your observation will be a huge asset for our adventure. Let's get you a dagger and some potions then we'll head out and find some lessee beasts to kill while we search for the dungeon.
You push open the door to 'The Adventurer's Respite', the scent of cured leather and oiled steel filling your nostrils. Inside, the shop is a cavern of practicalities – racks of armor, barrels of rations, and weapon displays line the walls. A grizzled shopkeeper, whose arms are as thick as a tree trunk, looks up from polishing a shield as you enter.
"Dagger and three healing potions for my lady," you announce, attempting to sound authoritative. The shopkeeper rings up the cost on a worn abacus, his brow furrowing slightly. He then looks at you, his expression unyielding. "That'll be 152 silver, friend. You've only got ten." He gestures to the few coins clinking in your sack. "Can't outfit your lady with that, I'm afraid."
Well I have some potions already that I can give you Elara so let's just get you the dagger until we get some more coin
"Right then," you say, a new plan forming. "Potions are overrated anyway. Let's just get you that dagger for now, Elara." You count out two silver coins, pushing them across the counter to the stoic shopkeeper. He grunts in acknowledgment, retrieving a simple but sturdy dagger from a nearby display and handing it over.
Elara takes the weapon, testing its balance with a few quick, practiced flicks of her wrist. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips as she tucks it securely into her belt. "Much better," she murmurs, her gaze meeting yours. "Now, about that dungeon, Gobby? That ranger wasn't much help, but the world is a big place. Where do we start looking for these 'lesser beasts'?"
We turn to the shop keeper for some information
The grizzled shopkeeper barely grunts as you turn to him, his focus already returning to arranging a stack of battle-axes. "Information, eh?" he mutters, not even looking up. "I sell steel and leather, not secrets. If you're looking for dungeons, you'll find 'em on your own map, or in the bottom of a mug at 'The Rusty Flagon.' Now, if you're buying something else, speak up. Otherwise, don't block the aisle." Elara sighs softly beside you, a faint shake of her head indicating her exasperation.
Bahdjinn looks at Elara in giving her the go ahead to persuade the shopkeeper
You glance at Elara, a silent command in your eyes. She understands, stepping forward with a disarming smile that melts the shopkeeper's gruff exterior almost instantly. "Now, now, good sir," she purrs, her voice a soothing balm, "there's no need to be so prickly. My companion and I are merely trying to find our footing in this bustling city. Surely a man of your experience, who sees all manner of adventurers pass through these doors, might have a useful whisper or two about where a new team could find... a good start?" She leans slightly over the counter, her expression one of genuine interest, and the shopkeeper finds himself softening. He clears his throat, casting a quick glance around before leaning in conspiratorially. "Alright, alright, lass. There's an old abandoned mine, just a day's travel east of the city, past the Old Mill. Folks say it's infested with… well, smaller things. Goblins, maybe. Good for a warm-up, if you're keen on that sort of trouble."
Thanks a bunch the two say to the shop keeper as they make their way to the abandoned mine pass the old mill
With a shared glance of gratitude and triumph, you and Elara bid farewell to the shopkeeper, leaving the Adventurer's Respite behind. The city streets gradually give way to dirt paths, and soon you find yourselves beneath the rustling canopy of a dense forest. The sun, though still bright, struggles to pierce the thick emerald leaves overhead, dappling the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow. After several hours of steady walking, the weathered, creaking wheel of the Old Mill appears on the horizon, its ancient wooden structure slowly turning in the gentle breeze, a landmark confirming you're on the right path. Beyond it, the trees grow thicker, and the air grows cooler. The path becomes less defined, eventually leading to a gaping, shadowed maw in the side of a rocky hill – the entrance to the abandoned mine. A faint, metallic tang hangs in the air, mixed with the earthy smell of damp rock.
"Love to pass the time, eh, Gobby?" Elara's eyes sparkle with amusement as she surveys the entrance to the mine. "Always thinking ahead, aren't we?"
You find a relatively flat clearing nestled amongst some dense undergrowth a short distance from the mine's entrance. The setting sun paints the sky in hues of orange and purple as you and Elara work together to set up a small, discreet camp. A fire is quickly kindled, its warm glow pushing back the encroaching shadows. The forest settles into its nighttime symphony, a chorus of chirps, rustles, and distant howls. The night passes in quiet companionship and shared warmth, the deeper currents of your relationship with Elara strengthening in the solitude of the wilderness. Your bodies intertwine beneath the starlit canopy, the world outside your small haven fading into insignificance until the first rays of dawn pierce through the trees, signaling a new day and the promise of what lies within the mine. You both feel refreshed and ready for the challenges ahead.
As we are waking up a lonely priest adventurer stumbles upon us and get intrigued with Bahdjinn and the way he looks and why he resembles an elf so much but only the size of a mere human.
As the first rays of dawn filter through the trees, painting the forest floor in dappled gold, a rustling in the undergrowth breaks the morning's quiet. A figure clad in simple, mud-stained priestly robes emerges from the shadows, carrying a well-worn mace and a holy symbol that glints faintly in the nascent light. He's a human, perhaps middle-aged, with a kind but weary face that brightens with surprise as his eyes fall upon you.
He stops, taking in your unique blend of goblin heritage and human elegance. "By the Light!" he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "A... a goblin, yet not. With ears like an elf, and a man's stature. Curious indeed. Might I inquire as to your lineage, friend? I confess, I've never seen one quite like you."
Sure thing friend. I'm a goblin halfbreed. My elf mother was deflowered by a goblin shaman 18 years ago and I am now on a journey to find that very goblin shaman and bring him the death he deserves.
The priest's kind face falters, his eyes widening slightly as your words paint a stark picture. He clenches his jaw, a muscle twitching beneath his worn skin. "Deflowered by a shaman... and now you seek vengeance." He shakes his head slowly, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "Such a burden, young one. A path paved with sorrow, though perhaps with a measure of justice." He steps closer, his gaze softening. "My name is Brother Alaric. I am a humble servant of the Dawnfather. If your quest is just, and your heart true, perhaps the Light can guide your hand. Or at the very least, offer solace." He looks towards the dark mouth of the mine, a new understanding dawning in his weary eyes.
Bahdjinn thanks the priest and asks him if he would be ever so kind to join them in the excursion through the abandoned mine to help aid them by healing them in any way possible if they need it.
Brother Alaric regards you for a long moment, his gaze shifting between your determined face, Elara, and the dark entrance of the mine. A small, resolute nod finally breaks the silence. "The Light guides us to those in need, and to places where its cleansing touch is most required," he says, his voice gaining a quiet strength. "If your path leads into the darkness, Bahdjinn, then I shall walk with you. My healing prayers, such as they are, will be at your disposal. It seems the Dawnfather has led me here for a purpose." He adjusts the strap of his satchel, readying himself. "Lead the way, then. Let us see what troubles lie within this abandoned mine."
Thank you friend. We walk through and start our mission.
You step into the cool, damp darkness of the abandoned mine, Elara and Brother Alaric close behind. The air is heavy with the scent of wet earth and ancient stone. The tunnel is rough-hewn, dimly lit by the occasional sliver of light from the entrance. Dust motes dance in the faint beams. Ahead, a guttural yelp echoes, and two small, green figures dart from behind a pile of rubble, crude scimitars glinting menacingly. They hiss and snarl, their eyes fixed on you, clearly unimpressed by your group.
I tell the priest to keep Elara safe and for the two of them to keep a distance. Focus heals where necessary and support me from the rear. I ready my bow and reach for my arrows, I ask my party if anybody knows any enchanting spells they can cast on his arrows. Bahdjinn then shoots off his arrow at the beast hoping someone can enchant his arrow making the damage more effective.
You quickly relay your instructions to Elara and Brother Alaric, urging them to maintain distance and focus on support. Elara nods, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her dagger, while Brother Alaric clutches his holy symbol, his eyes scanning the cavern. "Enchanting spells?" Elara whispers, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Not really my forte, Bahdjinn, and Alaric's prayers tend to mend more than they empower weapons." Brother Alaric shakes his head apologetically.
Undeterred, you nock an arrow with practiced ease, drawing the string taut as you aim for the Goblin Hunter snarling in the dim light. You release the arrow with a silent prayer, hoping your shot finds its mark even without magical aid.
You nock an arrow, taking aim at the nearest goblin.
Your arrow flies true, piercing the goblin's crude leather armor! The shot is perfectly aimed, a critical hit that buries deep into its flesh!
Your expertly aimed arrow strikes the Goblin Hunter with brutal force, dealing 5 piercing damage!
The goblin hunter staggers back, a choked gurgle escaping its throat as it clutches the arrow protruding from its chest. Its eyes roll back, and with a final, shuddering breath, it collapses to the dusty mine floor, utterly defeated.
With the Goblin Hunter defeated, you turn your attention back to the remaining foe, ready for whatever comes next. Your turn ends.
Your quick reflexes allow you to parry the clumsy strike with your bow, sending the goblin's scimitar scraping harmlessly across the mine wall.
I quickly ready my next round of arrows shooting a volley round of arrows to come raining down on the other goblin scout looking at Elara to make the finishing blow while the priest keeps his focus on Elara still.
You nock another arrow, taking aim at the remaining Goblin Scout, hoping to soften it up for Elara's finishing blow.
You nock another arrow, taking aim at the remaining Goblin Scout.
Your arrow flies true, piercing the goblin scout! It shrieks in pain as the projectile finds its mark.
Your arrow pierces the goblin scout, and it falls lifelessly to the ground, defeated.
The cool, damp air of the mine filled with the clang of steel and goblin snarls as the ambush began. You, Bahdjinn, wasted no time, launching an arrow with deadly precision. It found the Goblin Hunter's throat, felling the creature instantly. The remaining Goblin Scout, startled but enraged, lunged at you, its crude scimitar whistling past your ear in a wild, missed strike. Not one to let an enemy linger, you quickly nocked another arrow, letting it fly. This time, it buried itself deep in the scout's chest. With a final, choked gurgle, the last goblin collapsed, its lifeblood staining the mine floor. The sudden silence that followed was a stark contrast to the brief, violent flurry of combat, leaving you victorious amidst the echoing darkness.
I begin to search the goblins bodies for any loot we can use on our journey and to upgrade Elara's gear
You kneel beside the fallen goblins, their grotesque forms now still and lifeless. Your hands, quick and efficient, pat down their ragged tunics and crude gear. The first goblin, the scout, yields a surprisingly decent **Goblin Shortbow** and a quiver with a few arrows. The hunter, in turn, provides a serviceable, if slightly rusty, **Goblin Scimitar** and a piece of patched **Goblin Leather Armor**. From both, you manage to extract a meager collection of **ten silver coins**, jingling softly in your palm.
"Not much, but better than nothing," you muse, holding up the leather armor for Elara. "This might fit you better than nothing at all, at least until we find something proper." Elara nods, examining the crude but functional armor with a critical eye, already envisioning how it might protect her. Brother Alaric, meanwhile, observes the scene with a grim but understanding expression, his hand resting on his holy symbol.
I also give Elara the newly acquired weapon from the lifeless goblin bodies and we proceed to continue on our journey deeper into the mines.
You hand the crude goblin scimitar to Elara. She takes it, her fingers wrapping around the worn hilt, testing its weight. A faint nod confirms her acceptance, the weapon feeling more substantial than the small dagger she had. With Elara now better armed and the path cleared of the first threat, you signal for the group to continue.
The mine shaft descends deeper, the air growing colder and heavier. Your footsteps echo faintly on the uneven stone floor, mixing with the drip of unseen water and the occasional scuttling sound from the darkness. Brother Alaric walks silently behind you, his gaze sweeping the shadowy corners of the tunnel, while Elara keeps a watchful eye on your flanks. The tunnel twists and turns, each bend leading further away from the familiar world above, deeper into the earth's silent embrace.
I take out a stick and a pair of spark rocks and I begin to craft a torch to help us better see. I give the torch to the priest so he has something to arm himself with just in case any dangers lye up ahead. Luckily I do for we began to hear something ahead of us.
You expertly gather a dry stick and, with a few practiced strikes of your spark rocks, ignite the end. A flickering, orange flame blossoms, pushing back the oppressive darkness. The torch casts dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls, revealing more of the treacherous path ahead. "Here, Brother Alaric," you say, handing the makeshift light source to the priest. "A bit of warmth, and something to ward off the shadows."
He accepts the torch with a grateful nod, its light illuminating his weary but resolute face. No sooner is the torch in his hand than a new sound reaches your ears from deeper within the mine. It's a low, guttural snuffling, followed by a faint, rhythmic scratching sound – too large for rats, too deliberate for falling debris. Whatever it is, it's moving, and it's definitely ahead. The mine feels alive again, not with the natural sounds of the earth, but with something else, something... hungry.
Bahdjinn says "Everyone ready yourselves for combat for I fear the worst has yet to come." The party reacts themselves as both Bahdjinn and Elara share a kiss as something steps out of the shadows
"Everyone ready yourselves for combat, for I fear the worst has yet to come," you whisper, the torchlight flickering wildly, casting grotesque shadows. Elara nods grimly, gripping her new scimitar, while Brother Alaric raises the torch higher, its flame illuminating his determined face. As a low growl reverberates through the tunnel, you and Elara share a quick, defiant kiss, a fleeting moment of intimacy before the impending danger. From the murky depths ahead, two hulking forms emerge, larger and more brutish than the scouts you dispatched earlier. Their eyes glow with malevolent intent in the torchlight, and their crude weapons are raised, ready to strike.
Two larger, more aggressive goblins, clearly warriors rather than mere scouts, snarl and brandish their rusty scimitars, charging with surprising speed as they close the distance.
I push Elara back next to the priest having us both dodge the Goblins attack "Keep her next to you at all times priest" as Bahdjinn then kicks off of the back of the Goblin pushing him back further towards the other goblin warrior and Bahdjinn then shoots a round of arrows at the goblins before him
Bahdjinn, with a protective growl, shoves Elara back towards Brother Alaric, a quick motion that helps them both avoid the clumsy lunge of Goblin Warrior 1. You then use the momentum to kick off the charging goblin's chest, sending him stumbling back a few paces towards his companion, creating a crucial bit of space. Without missing a beat, you draw an arrow and loose it at the disoriented Goblin Warrior 1!
You loose an arrow at Goblin Warrior 1, aiming for a vital spot.
Your arrow strikes true, piercing Goblin Warrior 1's crude armor with a sickening thud, dealing 7 piercing damage.
Your arrow, fueled by vengeance, flies true! It finds the soft spot between the crude leather straps of Goblin Warrior 1's armor, sinking deep into its chest with a wet thud. The goblin stumbles back, a guttural gurgle escaping its lips as its eyes glaze over. It collapses to the damp mine floor, utterly defeated.
You managed to swiftly push Elara back towards the priest, an instinctual move to protect her from the charge. And with a swift kick, you sent the charging Goblin Warrior 1 reeling, creating just enough space for your deadly shot. With one foe dispatched, the cavern echoes with the sudden silence of a downed enemy.
You've successfully dispatched one of the goblin warriors with a single, powerful shot, using your action and movement for this turn. The remaining Goblin Warrior 2 snarls, eyeing you with renewed malice.
Enraged by the fall of its comrade, the remaining Goblin Warrior 2 lets out a guttural shriek, brandishing its crude scimitar and lunging with reckless abandon towards Bahdjinn, seeking immediate vengeance.
The goblin's scimitar clips your armor, a glancing blow that barely scratches the surface, but you feel the jarring impact through your bones.
Seeing Bahdjinn wounded, Elara lets out a fierce cry, drawing a small, keen dagger and lunging at the remaining Goblin Warrior 2.
Elara's dagger scrapes across the goblin's crude armor, a minor wound that nevertheless draws a yelp of surprise from the creature.
Seeing Bahdjinn injured and Elara engaging the last goblin, Brother Alaric raises his holy symbol, his eyes burning with righteous fury, and steps forward to strike Goblin Warrior 2.
Brother Alaric brings his holy symbol down with a surprising amount of force, striking the goblin's head with a dull thud, clearly rattling the creature.
I stand back up on my feet and while the priest is just backing off of the goblin warrior 2 Bahdjinn looks at Elara and nods his head as they both run at the goblins before full speed and plunge their blades into the goblin simultaneously
You lunge at Goblin Warrior 2, aiming a precise strike.
Your blade, guided by vengeance, slices through Goblin Warrior 2's crude armor and sinks deep into its flesh. Elara's attack, aimed with similar ferocity, finds its mark simultaneously. The goblin warrior lets out a gurgling cry, its eyes losing their malevolent glow as it collapses to the ground, lifeless.
You defiantly shook off the critical blow from the hulking Goblin Warrior, your eyes locking with Elara's in a silent, determined pact. With a shared nod, both of you surged forward, blades glinting in the mine's gloom. Your strike was swift and true, piercing deep into the monster's crude armor even as Elara's weapon found its mark simultaneously. The remaining goblin warrior let out a final, gurgling cry, its malevolent gaze fading as it crumpled to the damp earth. The echoes of battle died down, replaced by the dripping of water and your heavy breaths. The immediate threat was eliminated, and in the quiet aftermath, a sense of grim satisfaction settled upon you.
Bahdjinn loots the bodies of the goblins for anything they can use and for anything he can give Elara to upgrade her weapons and gear. While looting Bahdjinn asks the priest if he is able to teach Elara a healing prayer so that she may heal Bahdjinn should he ever need it. Bahdjinn pleads with him.
You immediately set about stripping the fallen goblin warriors of their meager belongings. From their crude forms, you retrieve another **Goblin Scimitar** and a piece of patched **Goblin Leather Armor**, along with a handful of bent and tarnished silver pieces. These might not be grand treasures, but they are certainly better than nothing, especially for outfitting Elara.
As you sort through the spoils, you turn to Brother Alaric, your voice earnest. "Brother Alaric," you begin, "these mines are dangerous, and we've already taken a hit. Would you be so kind as to teach Elara a healing prayer? Even a small one. If I fall, she might be able to help." Your gaze is pleading, highlighting the urgency of your need.
Brother Alaric regards Elara, then you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Healing, Bahdjinn, comes from a deep well of faith and devotion," he explains gently. "It is not merely a set of words. While Elara has a sharp mind and a compassionate heart, the Dawnfather's blessings are not so easily transferred. However," he adds, a small smile touching his lips, "I can certainly teach her the rudiments of battlefield aid, how to staunch a wound, or recognize signs of ill health. And I, of course, will offer my prayers and healing when it is within my power."
Then let me ask you priest. Would you consider this along our journey together. Will you consider joining my party. I think I speak for both Elara and myself when I say you have been amazing and we would love to have your help on our mission to defeating the goblin shaman. Like I said you don't have to answer now. Just tell me what you think once we are out of here. Anyways let's set up camp for now and get some rest. We need our strength for the rest of the way as Bahdjinn ends his sentence by slapping Elara's butt and winking at the priest.
"Join your party, you say?" Brother Alaric ponders your words, his gaze drifting from your earnest face to Elara, who playfully swats your hand away after your audacious gesture, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches the priest's. "The Dawnfather guides my path, Bahdjinn, and for now, it seems to align with yours. I will consider your offer, truly, once we have seen the light of day again."
With a nod of understanding, you begin to search for a relatively secure nook in the tunnel. You gesture for Elara to keep watch while Alaric blesses a small, dry patch for your short respite. The sounds of dripping water and distant, unseen scuttling creatures are your lullaby as you settle in, the flickering torch casting long, dancing shadows, a constant reminder of the unseen dangers that still surround you.