GM: Alex
The new heroes of the Dalelands
Hornikatta Brightblade (Dwarf Fighter (Daughter of Dorn the Red))
Wic of the Border Watch of Anthar (Human Ranger)
Willen (Human Cleric of Saranrae)
Ilorath Balcadiz (Noble High Elf Duelist)
and the Oddball: Ab the fey blooded Goblin (Sorcerer)
Hornikatta Brightblade (Dwarf Fighter (Daughter of Dorn the Red))
Wic of the Border Watch of Anthar (Human Ranger)
Willen (Human Cleric of Saranrae)
Ilorath Balcadiz (Noble High Elf Duelist)
and the Oddball: Ab the fey blooded Goblin (Sorcerer)
It was the 7th day of the 4th month in the year 368 Dale Reckoning...
It all started on a sunny day in a forest near my home village of Anthar. Dheren, the Border Guard leader, ordered us to go on a routine patrol. Us, meaning me, the Brave Hornikatta (as I like to call myself, since apparently no one else does) and, of course, my friend Wic, the Ranger. She has really beautiful long, black hair. If I were a human, I’d envy her a lot. But it doesn’t really matter to me, since I’m a redhead (and redbeard, for that matter – yes, my dear diary, the humans keep wondering about whether we, Dwarf women, actually have beards. Well, yes, we do. Small and not as hairy as the glorious specimens of our male counterparts, but indeed we do have beards. I’m growing my first beard now, for that matter, and I’m really excited about it. Maybe I’ll be able to braid it in about 10 or 20 years? Ah, to become a fully grown Dwarf woman, how I long for it…).
Wic doesn’t have a beard (humans are weird, aren’t they?) but she is a really good friend… for a human, that is. We, dwarves, never really got around to trusting the humans (and the other “young” races, what do they know about life, I’m asking you?), but she’s not that bad. Especially since she’s a follower of the goddess of nature, Gozreh, just like I am. My human friend is a real hawk-eye and doesn’t go anywhere without her bow. Even on that day she had it with her and after she had spotted that strange bluish creature hiding in the bushes, she could hit it with her arrow. We, women, have to stick together, so I won’t tell you which part of the creature’s body she was aiming at.
Anyway… Where was I… Ah, right. Finally, we caught this ugly “thing” and kept it alive, because it didn’t look like anything we’d seen before. A bit like a Goblin (My dad HATES Goblins! I just dislike them. Fiercely. Especially on Tuesdays.), or maybe it was a Gnome? It looked nasty and vicious. And strangely colored, too - with a bluish tint to its nose and ears.
Yes, that Goblin (he said that his name was Ab… do Goblins even have names?) just couldn’t keep his mouth shut and wanted us to believe that he was a vampire. Ha! He didn’t even smell like undead do. The fact is, he smelled worse.
GM says: “You see, this goblin looks very suspicious… not quite like a goblin…”
Hornikatta, sniffing: “Does it mean that he washed himself?”
The Goblin: “Well, at least I don’t sparkle in the sun like some creatures!”
We kept this weird creature in a cage for some time, just as Dheren ordered. Then we went off to meet the other brave heroes who could help us to identify the Goblin Menace (Who was, at that time, wearing a proper collar and being led on a leash, of course. He could have been rabid, after all!). At the “Prancing Pony” inn in Anthar we met Ilorath, the specialist in explaining the inexplicable. Ilorath is a very tastefully and richly dressed Elf with sophisticated manners.
“Who are you, anyway, a Wood Elf?”, asked the curious goblin.
“No”, said Ilorath, making a very complicated and sophisticated bow, waving his hands and exposing his fancy sleeve cuff laces, “Not at all, I’m a High Elf from Bern, from a noble family of…”
“Ah, a Posh Elf, then!”, someone mumbled at that moment.
All eyes suspiciously turned to the innocently looking Goblin.
Anyway, we were sitting comfortably at the inn. On that day many weird rumors were being spread (or maybe it was the new beer they server there…) – and we listened to all of them:
“I hear that there are crazy rabid wolves in the forests by the road to Albridge. They keep attacking the travelers and no one is safe anymore!”
“Yes, and have you heard about the Deklo Grove? It’s full of big, angry bears! Don’t go anywhere near that place!”
“Indeed, but I know something even worse… do you know what’s lurking in the Druid Grove?”
“…Oh, no! Druids?!”
Needless to say, everybody was fear-stricken at that point.
All the brave heroes (minus one) were completely puzzled about how to find some more information about the strange blue-tinted goblin. The goblin in question was only grinning viciously. But everyone had lots of interesting ideas that were a tiny bit disturbing at the same time:
“Let’s ask the local harlot, I’m sure she has experience with such diseases!”
“I remember how my grandpa would tell me bedtime stories about small blue creatures that live in the forests. They all wore white caps.” - “I heard that story too; their leader wore a red cap!”
“I’ll cut his ear and compare it with my clan’s collection of enemy ears. I’m sure that we’ll find a match!”
We heard several alarming rumors about the Iron Circle that evening. I wrote down all of them and we plan to check everything soon. The most disturbing news was that one of their leaders, Nazin, plans to attack Albridge. They keep recruiting various mercenaries and even orc scouts (I HATE ORCS!) have been seen near that town. We have to warn them as soon as we can! (Them, meaning the clueless Albridge dwellers, not the orcs, of course.)
Since our whole wonderful group consists of kind-hearted people (minus one, I’m not sure goblins have hearts), we decided to help the local townsfolk. Ilorath and William were staying at the inn.
“Listen”, started Ilorath, “Maybe we can help the Innkeper Jalia. She says that there are some suspicious travelers staying in the inn…”
“Well, it’s true, you both look suspicious”, said Hornikatta (me!) looking intently at both men. That was so clever, wasn't it?!
Ilorath helped the innkeeper with a card cheater Furnok the Gambler – the Elf played cards with him and caught him red-handed! Furnok became really scared (that’s because he saw my deadly weapon, the dwarven urgrosh!) and decided to donate all of his gold, including the recent winnings, to the Border Guards. It had something to do with the fact that one of us might have mentioned something about card cheaters being punished by having their hands cut off… Ah, the power of persuasion. Since we were so kind-hearted, we let him go after that. The most important thing is that Jalia the Innkeeper was very happy that her customers are safe now and kept smiling a lot to Ilorath. I think she fancies elves, although I have no idea why. They are too thin for my taste.
The Goblin wanted to help (!!!) too, so he Disguised himself and tried to milk some local peasants for some important information. Unfortunately, he rolled 1.
GM, happy: “Fumble! The peasant looks at you and screams: ‘AAAAH! GOBLIIIIN!!!’”
Ab: “I use my Fate Point!”
GM, disappointed: “Okay, the peasant thinks what to tell you. He says… hmmm, let’s see…”
One of the players tries to help: “The oldest person in the village has herpes!”
As you can see, the vicious Goblin was a real troublemaker and we, me and Wic, the Border Guards, had to lead him on a leash everywhere. It was really troublesome…
GM had an idea: “He is small, you can carry him in a backpack, Wic.”
And before Wic could answer, Ab the Goblin asked the GM: “Will I get a Mounted bonus?”
William, the obedient Cleric and a true believer (Lawful Good) was on a mission from his temple. He was to convince Kavan the Brewer to give back the money that he owes to the Temple. It was a not-so-huge sum of 15 silver coins. We all went to the brewery with William (We have to support each other, right? Even if he believes in some strange human gods instead of Gozreh, the goddess of nature, like I do. Hmmph. Those humans…). And that’s how the dialogue between the cleric and the poor brewer developed:
Kavan, scared: “But I don’t have any money!”
William: “Ok, no problem. Two gold coins for every finger.”
Kavan tried not to piss himself (and it’s not easy to piss yourself when the beer is all around you, believe me, I know!)… But finally he recalled that he had some 16 sc left. William took it all for himself, of course. For the Temple, that is. The truth is, he could share with us, I helped him with my menacing looks, didn’t I?!
We also went to see Holten the Tailor, a nice Dwarf like me, just a bit too shy and not very broad in his shoulders. The rumor has it, his mother tried to feed him with stale beer when he was just a baby, instead of giving him the strongest spirit she had, like the tradition teaches us. Ah, those new trends in child care. What will be next, feeding those poor dwarf babies with cow milk?!
Where was I. Aha. Well, poor, meek Holten is in love with Fruella, but she seems to prefer only the strong, sweaty, big-bellied, belching dwarves (as I do!). He thought that if he became a member of the Border Guards, his beloved would get interested in him. Of course, Dheren (my boss) didn’t want any weaklings among us… but I convinced him that the Guards need new proper cloaks, clothes, emblems, shoes and such. And that's what made Holten join the Guards as our official tailor! You should've seen his face when he joined us. Believe it or not, but Fruella smiled at him on that day. I wish them a lot of happiness and a cute dwarfling every decade to raise… as soon as I get my new cloak, that is!
We decided to visit an old hermit called Black Jay (After seeing him, I can say that this “black” has something to do with his teeth…). His cottage was in Dymak Forest and he had a fey infestation problem. The problem was, it was a bit away from the village.
“Can we return in tome for the festivities and the beer drinking contest? I can’t miss it!”, said Hornikatta (that’s me!). “The contest starts in 6 hours!”
GM: “It takes 3 hours to get to Black Jay’s cottage.”
Ilorath: “Ok, we can make it. And when we have arrived there, we will find a note saying ‘Gone to the village for the beer contest.’”
The GM informed us what we know about Black Jay: “He is an old man, living in a forest. He has a few pigs and two watchdogs.”
“Great!”, says William The Pious Cleric, “Each dog is 20 XP! Let’s kill them!”
We decided to go to the hermit anyway. William knocked on the door.
Black Jay’s grumpy voice (behind the closed door): “WHAT?!”
William: “We came here to help you solve your problems…”
Black Jay: ”I’M NOT INTERESTED IN PSYCHOTHERAPY!!!”
After some time, and a bit of convincing, Jay opened his door and his heart for us:
Jay: “I have a problem… my pigs die and I don’t know why…”
William: “I don’t understand the problem… do they taste bad?”
Ab found some poisoned mushrooms in the pig sty. Imagine that, he turned to be useful after all! He concluded that this is the reason for the mysterious pig deaths:
“Mister Jay, sir, you have a mycosis problem…” (“Ah…! Svampproblem har du!”)
We managed to solve Jay’s problem with fey who were trying to poison the pigs and who stole his ring, the last memory he had of his departed wife. We found the ring (with a little help from the Goblin who spoke their language, surprise, surprise!) and that made Jay happy for the first time in last ten years. When we were leaving the cottage, we heard several tiny voices laughing in the bushes: "We’ll steal it again, as soon as he leaves the cottage. It will be such fun!" Ah, those pesky fey…
We all returned to the village in good time for the festivities. I went straight to the inn for the beer drinking contest and… I WON!!! It was to be expected, of course, since the other contestant that counted was a Dwarf as well, Fero the Fist, or Smallbladder, as we call him behind his back. He just can’t hold his liquor. Of course, he can win with every human there, and he would if it was not for me to sit down and start drinking properly. All the humans and other non-dwarf contestants fell under the table after only several jugs of The Kazak Beer (Our local dwarven specialty! I basically grew up drinking exactly this beer!). Anyway, Fero stepped down just after drinking his 12th mug. Or fell down, I should say. And I was just starting to feel that nice tingling in my nose…
The tingling got to my knees so I decided not to stand up. But I belched instead! If you only could hear it… My Grandma would have been so proud that she helped raising such a well-mannered Brightblade clan woman!
If I was a bit less focused on the beer, I would’ve probably noticed that William the cleric made some guy write something on a piece of paper, but who cares, it was just some strange human business not involving the money… I got back to drinking beer since I JUST WON A WEEK OF FREE BEER DRINKING!!!! YEEEE-HAW!!!!!
Ab the Goblin wanted to use some of his money, but it turned out that the Border Guards confiscated all of his belongings (Don’t look at me now! It was my duty! And his pouch with gold seemed heavy enough…). Of course he wasn’t too happy being pushed around and being on a leash all the time. He got a bit grumpy, but not as much as Black Jay.
At one point, the GM said to the player: “It’s not my fault! It was you who wanted to play a Goblin!”
Ab was allowed to roam freely for a remainder of the evening. As I wrote it before, he was disappointed that all the Border Guard (me, that is, and Wic) confiscated his belongings (Wic did it!) and gold (Well, he had money with him and something had to be done with it, it was so heavy and he looked like a very frail creature so I took care of it for him, oh, my soft heart, I just can’t stop helping creatures in need…). Anyway, he decided to get some money on his own in a very illegal way (shame on him, I would never do that!). So he sneaked into one of the cottages and tiptoed into a room filled with cute, innocent sleeping small kids. He showed off his teeth and screamed: “I’m a toothfairy! GIVE ME YOUR TREASURES!!!”
The poor kids got scared and started crying. I think that the crying did the trick – everyone knows that goblins are afraid of water, so he just escaped through the window. And that was the last thing we got to know about our strange companion. I don’t know where he went after that – I suddenly felt tired after drinking so much beer all the adventures of the day and decided (very suddenly, I admit) to go to sleep. And when I say go to sleep, I mean, of course, the old dwarven tradition of putting your forehead with quite a significant speed on the inn table by the beer mug to the sound of my clan brothers and sisters singing. The trick is not to spill the beer when hitting the table with all your weight, of course! Easy-peasy! Good night!
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