+-11:30 AM: The party discovers and assaults what appears to be a watch-post marking a border of the goblins’ dominion with the Sunless Citadel. Quickly storming the sentry post they pursue a fleeing goblin into a more substantial defensive barricade adjacent to some sort of crude training area. A devastating assault by Tam, Gregory, Oreth and Marrok threatens to quickly overwhelm the defenders, but one of the goblins reaches reinforcements and the pendulum begins to swing the goblins’ way. Oreth falls unconscious from fever and bloodloss and loyal Marrok must stand atop his friend to prevent the goblins from finishing him. Eventually as more goblins fall before Tam, Gregory and Marrok’s assault, the remaining defenders lose their nerve and flee into the darkness. Exhausted, the heroes do not pursue and instead withdraw, fortifying themselves in a chamber dominated by the ancient draconic fountain. Here they sharpen blades, ready spells and gain fitful slumber, ever alert for the sounds of foul goblins padding through the darkness…
21st Wealsun
+-6:00 AM: Somewhat rested and refreshed, the adventurers set forth once more, though Oreth still trembles with fever. Picking their way through the carnage of the previous battle, the band are ambushed on all sides by goblin and hobgoblin reinforcements but the foul assailants are no match for them and are cut down on all sides even before Lareth unleashes arcane electricity from his fingertips. Breaking into the goblin’s foul dungeon the company release three kobolds and a gnome from captivity. The kobolds flee as soon as given the opportunity but the jaunty little kobold, one Erky Timbers, gratefully reveals all that he has learned in his long captivity, of one ‘Belak the outcaste’, of the enchanted fruit grown in a grove below and distributed by the goblins on the surface, and of a brief shared captivity with three of the missing adventurers, who were apparently removed from the dungeon at Belak’s command. What is more, Erky offers to join the adventurers, eager to repay his debt and rescue the lost Hucreles.
+-6:45 AM: The band moves relatively unopposed into goblin-held territory, looting and torching a what appears to be a goblin supply cache, before coming across a chamber whose door is trapped, barred and covered with exaltations of the Durbulak tribe and one known as ‘the Hunter.’ They break into what must once have been the goblins’ trophy room but has been ransacked by a former ‘trophy’ in the form of the white dragon wyrmling Calcryx. Despite the diplomatic efforts of Meepo ‘the Keeper of Dragons’ and Lareth’s artful draconic, the wyrmling refuses to parley and viciously defends its tiny hoard. The company’s efforts at subduing the beast seem for naught until Lareth’s enchantments manage to frighten it, allowing Gregory to knock the beast unconscious. Calcryx is then bound and placed in Tam’s backpack.
+-8:00 AM: Gathering up Calcryx’s hoard, the adventurers decide to press on in the hopes of finding the missing Hucreles and renew their assault on the goblin territory. They quickly take a smoky passageway from the goblins defenders, and Tam leads a charge into the main goblin living quarters in what must once have been a mighty vaulted chapel. Concerned by the sheer number of goblins, and the horrific screams and curses of their non-combatants that the adventurers may have overextended themselves, Gregory and Oreth call for a strategic withdrawal and the party barricade themselves in an abandoned chamber.
Narrative Interlude:
Against the inky darkness that presses down on the Sunless Citadel like the weight of a thousand years, a lantern sends brightness and six shadows flickering across the crumbling walls of a tiny chamber which has not seen light in the Ages since it sunk into the roots of the earth. If shadows had eyes all would be fixed on an ancient wooden door.
Directly before the ominous portal towers the warrior Tam, scale mail blackened with goblin-ichor, his shield filled with black arrow-shafts, a mailed fist flexing across the hilt of his mighty blade. At his side stands Gregory, eyes blazing with holy zeal, one hand rests a grim iron mace over the rim of a battered shield, the other on St. Cuthbert’s starburst as he mumbles holy litanies. Impossibly serene and calm stand the elf-twins behind them. Dark haired Lareth stands with bow drawn, his keen bright eyes following the length of the shaft to where it will find the first goblin to open the door. Fair Oreth crouches low like a cat ready to strike, for here he is the hunter and the razor edged scimitar his claws and goblins are his prey in the dark. At his side, Marrok growls, his lips curled back in a snarl to reveal gleaming white teeth. Further back, Meepo growls also, the kobold’s scaly-rat like tail twitching in agitation as he fits a bolt to his crossbow. Against the back door, Erky, an incongruous little fellow with bright gnomish eyes staring out from under a goblin helm, tiny in the vast blackness, but he holds lantern and mace steady as he waits for what is to come.
All eyes wait fixated on the door. All ears strain for any sound beyond against the deafening silence buried here in the blackness of the ages. They are sealed up in the darkness, awaiting what must come.
And at this point a serpentine squirming against Tam’s mailed shoulder reminds him that there is a dragon wyrmling in his backpack…
8:15 AM Finding themselves trapped in the darkness with a slowly waking dragon, Meepo pushes for the return of Calcryx to the safety of the kobold hold but Erky and Lareth argue against losing the edge of surprise against the goblins and for the urgency of their rescue mission. Eventually it is decided to venture out once more into the smoke-filled goblin corridor rather than risk unknown horrors of the dark. Goblins and hobgoblins have already set up an ambush from all sides but with Tam, Gregory and Oreth cutting foes down on all sides, and the remainder harried by a savage Marrok, a determined Erky, and Lareth’s bowfire, the goblin-kin are quickly slain or driven off.
8:30 AM Having so quickly secured the main goblin living quarters there is once again debate about advancing on the presumed seat of the warchief ‘Durnn.’ Tam ends the argument by bursting in and leading the charge against the mighty hobgoblin warchief, his elite guards, goblin-rabble, a foul shaman and a strange humanoid plant which attacks with horrific needle-like claws; all holding dark court in a chamber dominated by a gaping hole in the floor covered in vines and emitting a sickly violet light. While Oreth’s flashing scimitar and Marrok’s iron-jaws dispatch the goblins and ‘twig-blight’ surrounding a beleugered Erky, Tam and Gregory struggle with the elite hobgoblin guards of the warchief as the shaman chants dark magics and Durnn himself fires black shafts from a curved composite bow. Gregory’s holy invectives bring a furious Durnn advancing from his throne, as Tam desperately fends off the blows of three hobgoblins from all sides. Rather than finishing the beleaguered Tam, Durnn is goaded into attacking Gregory, allowing the warrior to dispatch his other attackers while the cleric eventually incapacitates the warchief despite the efforts of the shaman. The shaman attempts to clamber down the vines to safety but is sent hurtling to her doom by Gregory’s mace, while Tam puts Durnn to a mercifully swift end.
The victorious adventurers claim the first of the Hucrele rings from the body of the warchief, worn as a grissly neck ornament upon the severed finger of its former owner. There is no sign of the other ring, however, nor any way to know the fate of the (now fingerless) ring-bearer. Tam suggests that the needle-like claws of the twig-blight make it a likely culprit for the attacks on shepherds and livestock which have plagued folk around Oakhurst. The ever curious Lareth falls afoul of a poisoned needle trapping the warchief’s chest, but the herbs and toxin knowledge of his druidic twin Oreth seems to spare him the worst of the poison, and the contents of the chest seem worth the pain. Despite growing concern over the lost Hucreles and Sir Braford, the exhausted and wounded party finally withdraw to the kobold-held portion of the Sunless Citadel…
10:00 AM The adventurers cautiously pick their way back through the shattered corridors, careful not to slip in black goblin blood or start at the odd fleeing goblin padding away in the darkness. They return triumphant before the throne of Yusdrayl “the Dragon Queen” bearing the head of the warchief Durnn and the clan’s dragon wyrmling. Oreth and Lareth skilfully negotiate with the Yusdrayl, arranging the loan of the kobold’s ancient key, the purchase of several artifacts from the dragon altar and the relative safety and dubious victuals of the kobolds’ hospitality. For their part the kobolds are beside themselves with joy at the victory over their hated foes and the expansion of their territory, and at Gregory’s urging Yusdrayl suggests that her people will refrain from interfering with the surface-world in return for their claim of the goblins’ territories, freedom from interference from the humans above and the heroes promise to leave the Sunless Citadel forever once the lost adventurers are found and Belak dealt with. Meepo, lauded for his reported roll in the goblins’ defeat, is once again made ‘Keeper of Dragons’ and allowed to stand beside Yusdrayl, as the kobolds mobilize to claim their new domain.
11:00: The adventurers are given a small shattered chamber in which to enjoy the hospitality and safe-conduct of the jubilant kobolds…
Narrative Interlude:
It is perhaps not the triumph thrown for returning heroes which you have heard about in bard's songs. There have been no offers of titles or lands, no tales spun in your honour, no peasants stopping work to cheer you on your way, or children running to keep up with you on the side of the road, or blushing barmaids captivated by your tales. There hasn't even been an audience with a grateful local aristocrat (though Yusdrayl would likely disagree), or a victory banquet (well, there have been rusty platters bearing enormous albino cave insects, luminescent funghi, and what may or may not be dire rat, or goblin but certainly does not taste like chicken).
A small fire sputters valiantly but cheerlessly in a small, smoky chamber, the air reeks of the wet-dog small so characteristic of the kobolds though you have done your best to push their fetid bedding and belongings to one side of the room. Outside, the shrill yapping of a victorious people at celebration, and the terrified shrieks of what you take to be goblinoid prisoners make it hard to completely relax. You have barricaded the door to your chamber with what passes for the former occupants possessions. How long will Yusdrayl's promis of safe-conduct last now that the kobolds have their clan dragon and the head of the Durbulak warchief? Best not to take any chances...
All around though, lie the rewards of your labours, battling horror after horror in endless darkness, far below the earth. Your backpacks and pouches are well nigh bursting with loot which has not seen the sun in perhaps an age: gold and silver glint in the firelight, gems sparkle, and scrolls, parchments, vials and potions and philtres which do who knows what, strange keys and more. Perhaps not a dragon's horde of legend, but it WAS only a little dragon and more than most would see in a lifetime... if you can get it into the safe light of day.
Perhaps the reason you do not yet have the heroes welcome is that you still have work to do... Calcryx is returned and poor Karakas's fate revealed, but what of ancient doors left unopened and eerie violet depths unexplored? You have one Hucrele signet ring and a finger, but what of the other ring and, for that matter their owners? And what of the enchanted fruit?
