Session I - What Could Go Wrong?

You never know until someone adds a little chaos to the mix...

General Summary

Tarsakh 19, 1491 DR

It had been two days since the group first set out from Neverwinter. As planned, Airick, Forgrim and Roric met up with Wick just outside the city limits, where the gnome introduced them to his friend Tahlthi. She was a young half-elf, raised in the human town of Longsaddle, who preferred mostly to keep to herself, and generally avoided large groups. This was especially evident by her refusal to enter Neverwinter itself, relying on Wick to gather provisions and make travel arrangements. Initially, she remained relatively quiet and innocuous, travelling behind the group and off-trail when necessary, but taking to the tress when available. Nonetheless, the uneventful journey down the High Road heading towards Leilon, and beyond to Waterdeep, provided ample opportunity for the group to become fully acquainted with each other.

As was typical this time of year on the Sword Coast, the early morning air still carried a slight chill, but quickly succumbed to beautifully mild days. Vibrant blossoms bloomed under clear, blue skies. Birds and bees flitted and bounced about, while the faint smell of salty air could be detected on the gentle breezes that occasionally drifted in from the not-too-distant shoreline. Shortly before midday, the group had found the cutoff to the Triboar Trail. Never fully cleared, it provided the only route that lies between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, threading its way between the Neverwinter Wood and the Sword Mountains, which lead to the Savage Frontier. It was also the route that was needed to reach Phandalin.

Ambushed

Only a few hours later, a gruesome sight came into view. Two dead horses were sprawled in the road about 50-feet ahead of the group. Several black-feathered arrows stuck upright, piercing each of the equine corpses. Most of them knew that the area along the trail was plagued by bandits and outlaws, and for those who didn't, caution was instinctive. Tahlthi immediately took to the trees, disappearing from sight and readying her longbow, while Wick disguised himself as a barrel, which made perfect sense, since he had been riding in the ox-drawn cart. Roric and Forgrim carefully approached the remains of the carnage.

As the bard and elf stepped closer, Tahlthi noticed some movement in the brush on the embankment, above the investigative pair. However, she had been observed from the moment she left the wagon, and one of their foes had locked their sights on her. Two goblins emerged from the stand of foliage above the small cliff. Loaded shortbows in hand, one launches an arrow unerringly towards Tahlthi, lodging it in her shoulder. The other sets his aim on Roric, successfully hitting the warrior in his thigh!

Hurt, but unphased, Tahlthi caught a clear view of her first target, lined up her shot, and managed to sink her arrow directly between its eyes, felling him with one masterful shot. Meanwhile, Wick, none too happy that his friend took the first hit, stepped forward (though still mostly obscured by the edge of the wagon). With the fingers of his right hand gesticulating like falling raindrops at the first goblin which had hit Tahlthi, arcane words uttered forth from his lips, imbued with a chilling elemental power which seemed impossible to have come from his slight stature.

"Frajus.... frajilious..... cryosum..... tor zu!" he exclaimed with an ethereal reverberation in his voice.

As the echo of last syllable began to fade, the goblin in Wick's sight turned deathly pale, almost bluish, tiny icicles forming around his ears and nose. Obviously terrified at whatever had just happened to him, he screamed out something in his native tongue. In response, at least two other figures, still obscured by the foliage, begin moving away from them towards the North.

Airick, also irritated about his ranged companions being stuck by arrows, decided to add a little fuel to the fire.

"No wonder you're hiding behind cover, I'd hide too with a face like that!" he shouted at them.

Airick had hoped to antagonize their assailants and throw them off guard. Not an uncommon tactic for a bard. Though goblins know they are not comely creatures, it is usually not a good idea to call one 'ugly!' Nonetheless, these goblins were either well-disciplined, or too focused to be distracted by the bard's efforts to mock them.

Dwarven reflexes being what they are, Forgrim had finally taken stock of the situation, and not knowing just how many goblins they now faced, decided that a little divine aid would be in their favor. Clasping at the amulet upon his breast, and a silent prayer to Moradin passing his lips, a beam of intense yellow light descended on the goblin that Wick had chilled. Recoiling from the light, howling in anger, and scrambling to get away form it's influence.

Roric, having realized the small cliff was preventing him from quickly closing to melee range with his attacker, responded in kind with the crossbow that had been hanging at his side. But due to the bad angle, the shot fell short, embedding itself in the dirt underneath where the goblin stood.

By now, the first goblin had lined up another shot on Tahlthi, but failed to hit his mark. Tahlthi had the second goblin in her sights when he pulled out his scimitar, and leapt down from the cliff lunging at Roric. Tahlthi's shot flew high as the goblin pounced, but Roric easily sidestepped him. Standing adjacent to the incoming living projectile, Airick instinctively raised his hands protectively, in doing so, spewing forth an unexplainable spray of liquid from his fingertips. Recovering impressively, the goblin tucks, avoiding the liquid emanating from the bard's fingers, and rolls a few feet away into a less exposed position.

"Incendius…. Pyrios…. Projectum" was suddenly heard from the gnome, which ended with several small bolts of flame streaking toward each of the two goblins. Though one failed to find its target, the goblin that had first hit Talthi (and also endured Wick's two prior attacks) took one of the bolts directly to his face, promptly fell flat upon it, and then tumbled down the embankment into a crumbled heap at its base. What little hair it had on its head was singed and smoking.

Forgrim, seeing that Tahlthi has been hurt pretty bad, had made his way over to her from his post by the wagon to provide her some aid. Roric, attacking the acrobatic one that had tried to flank him, pivoted to face him, and sliced almost completely through it's abdomen on the upswing as the blade was freed from its scabbard!

Having received a blessing of healing from Forgrim, Tahlthi quickly headed into the brush to see if she could follow or track their ambushers. The goblins had already managed to escape out of view, but the ranger was easily able to find signs of their passing. Rather than rush ahead, she decided it best to discuss their options with her new companions.

In Pursuit of Goblins

The horses had appeared uncomfortably familiar to Airick. Additionally, Tahlthi had noticed a trail of blood leading away from the horses in the same direction which the goblins had fled. Doubting the goblins would be carrying dead bodies anywhere, it seemed more likely that they had taken prisoners, and that following them was the right thing to do. Strategically, they knew they could not take the wagon with them, but Airick was uncomfortable leaving Gundren's wares exposed and unsecured. Roric, angered by the assault on innocent travelers (and hating goblins in general), insisted on chasing down the vile creatures. Feeling lives could be in danger, the group was inclined to agree. So a little time was spent pulling the ox and wagon into the woods. Some loose brush was collected to feed and obscure them from view, in hopes their foray after the goblins would not take long. Forgrim helped Roric tend to his wounds, and they set out after the goblins within minutes, following Tahlthi's lead.

The route quickly turned onto a game path, which made the trail of blood easy to follow. Along the way, both a pit and a snare trap had been set to capture or delay them. The tracks had even purposely been directed to guide followers into these devices meant to hinder them. But even skirting the edges of the trail to stay out of view, Tahlthi was easily able to detect the traps she scouted their route for clues, and the group was able to easily avoid the obstacles. After a little more than an hour, the party was able to track their quarry further north to a cave opening nestled in a small hillside. From it's mouth, a small stream flowed south to their right, screened by dense briar thickets. A dry, narrow path could be seen leading into the cavern on the right-side of the stream.

Wick and Tahlthi scouted ahead first. Lacking any metal armor on either of them, they were able to do so with much more stealth. Roric readied himself by tracing a sigil of warding in the air with his unequipped hand, calling upon arcane powers that he had acquired over his many years. Wick approached the entrance slowly, close to the cliff face, while Tahlthi circled around south to see if she could acquire a view into the cave, since this side of the stream was not as overrun with the briars. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and she observed no movement other than that of the gnome making his way towards the cave entrance. Wick's stature and skill provided a huge advantage for staying out of sight, and indeed, no one noticed his progress except for Tahlthi, who was beginning to develop a combat rapport with her new travelling companion.

Nearing the entrance, it became obvious that the thicket on the far bank had an open area behind it, which served as a guard blind against intruders. But the two goblins within it failed to notice the encroaching gnome. Tahlthi watched as Wick began another incantation, which though subdued, but still loud enough for all to hear, triggering everyone into action. Unfortunately, Wick's spell seemed to have no ill effect, but did cause the goblins to come rushing out from the blind as well, with javelins in hand. They stopped at the bank of the stream, picked out the elf warrior as the highest threat, and heaved back their weapons preparing to hurl them through the air.

"So, you think you can hurt us with those toothpicks?" quipped Airick as he stepped up to the west bank, taunting the pair.

Now bards, especially those that have been trained at one of the renowned Bard Colleges of Faerûn, were known to have some very curious abilities. Ever since the end of the Spellplague, it had become known that sound could be used in many different ways to shape the Weave. Through training, some bards were able to modulate their vocal intonations in just the right way that they could channel and imbue their words with mystical energy, not very much unlike a wizard does when chanting a spell, but not to the same degree. Though he had been unsuccessful earlier, the rebuke had it's intended effect this time around. Given the physical reaction of one of them, it may as well have been hit upside the head with a mallet! The goblin shook his head and stumbled back a step. The other goblin, ignoring the incitement, successfully launched his javelin at Roric. Luckily, the prepared ward deflected what otherwise would have been a solid shot, guiding Roric's sword arm instinctively to intercept the incoming missile. The head of the weapon managed to find it's way between Roric's armor, but instead of impaling his gut, it grazed his side as it slid between armor and skin.

Somewhat recovering his wit, but slightly delayed, the first goblin loosed his javelin, also at Roric, but the elf crouched low, beginning a charge across the stream, and allowing the shot to pass clear over his head. But underestimating the stream's flow, Roric is hampered just enough as he crosses, allowing his target to barely sidestep the assault. It parried a few more blows from Roric, and then somehow manages to step out of the way just in time to avoid another beam of divine radiance which Forgrim had just channeled.

Wick decided to try another spell, one of his most reliable spells, that was actually the first non-illusory spell he had learned while enthralled by the gnolls. He had practiced the spell many times, and even used it earlier during their encounter on the road. His execution would have been considered flawless by any of his peers. But the source of Wick's magical abilities could prove to be quite unpredictable at times, some would say even chaotic. This was one of those times. Instead of bolts of flame being flung at his adversaries, everyone suddenly found the gnome bathed in an incredibly-bright, blinding light, as if bestowed upon him directly from the heavens! Fortunately, it caused him no harm, but regrettably it flash-blinded Roric, who was standing just across the stream not more than 10-feet away from him.

Forgrim tried to call another beam of searing radiance to the field, continuing to focus on the goblin that seemed to be avoiding or enduring most of the other attacks he was being targeted by. Yet again, the goblin proved to be unexpectedly agile.

"You seem to dance a lot better than you fight... you must be your clan's jester!" Airick said, successfully infuriating the goblin once more.

The second goblin, the one which had successfully hit Roric with his javelin, now with a scimitar readied in-hand and managed to flank the enraged warrior on the east bank, while the others still were positioned behind him across the stream. Tahlthi had now moved into position and was now able to target their opponents at range across the stream from the southwest. Nocking an arrow, she fired it at the second goblin that had closed in on Roric, but the shot missed.

Roric and the first goblin continued to parry each others' blows, in what seriously appeared to be more of a dance on the streambank instead of a vicious combat. Roric was getting furious... but Wick wasn't too happy either with the way this battle was going. It was time for another spell...

Now Wick had become used to his spells creating unexpected results from time-to-time. But since he had been able to practice real magic (and not just illusions), one of these 'surges' had never occurred twice in a row. That is, until today...[/p

"Frajus.... frajilious..... cryosum..... tor zu!" he intoned once again as his fingers trickled downwards. But instead of the chilling touch he was expecting, the sky above the goblins suddenly darkened and was then interrupted by a crackling sound and an intense flash of light.

Rubbing his eyes as his flash-blindness subsided, Roric looked around him. Neither of the goblins were anywhere to be seen. But in their place, two smoking piles of ash remained, and the smell of burnt flesh pervaded the air.

"Wait... where did they go?" Roric asked.

Wick giggled, half-heartedly.

"I think I accidentally fried them both" he explained, holding up his hands which also appeared to be smoking.

"Wow! You need to put something over those things!" Roric exclaimed as he looked at the wisps coming from the gnomes' fingers.

Spelunking

The piles of ash left little to inspect. The group gathered on the far bank of the stream, where a rough path led to a few uneven stone steps just inside the mouth of the cave. The steps lead up to a dank chamber on the right which reeked of animal stench, while the stream continued to flow down along the path to the left. Tahlthi slipped into the shadows of the entryway, and virtually disappeared from view as she did a preliminary investigation. The sounds of rattling chains and savage snarls erupted from the chamber on the right as she passed the opening. Three wolves had been chained within and were obviously responding to some stimulus from outside their chamber, but apparently even they couldn't discern the half-elf as their eyes darted up and down, and from side to side. Unperturbed, she continued forward carefully, passing the chamber and ascending some rough-hewn steps leading deeper into the cavern.

To be continued...