Into the Mines IC

[NeoSeraphi]

Dawn breaks, and an eerie silence falls over the Carnen River. Thrar looks to the skies and sees a red sun rising. Blood has been spilled this night.

Things were moving, and they were moving fast. A group of powerful dwarves had been summoned to Rivendell for Elrond's council to discuss a matter of great importance. Thrar was unaware of what it was, but he did know that whispers through the Brown Lands had traveled up to the Iron Hills. An ancient curse in a tongue he dare not speak, but it had shaken him in his boots. The Black Gate had been opened, for the first time in a hundred years.

Far south, past the treacherous peaks of Ered Lithui, was the dark kingdom of Mordor. A wretched haven of orcs and men, all of whom had not seen the light of Elendil in many centuries. As much as Thrar may not like the elves, their presence did seem to bring out the best in others, and so their absence had poisoned that land to its core.

Now was the time, the time that he needed to act. He had gathered some of his brothers and together they had set out for the Mines of Moria, an ancient dwarven kingdom that could serve as a defense against the armies of Evil. Easily defensible, and it would put him near Edoras. Perhaps the Horse Lords would ally with him, perhaps they would not. But sitting in the Iron Hills waiting to die would not do!

At least, that's what the dwarf told himself, again, as he gazes up into the black trees of Mirkwood, still several days away from the gates. He would have to pass through this dark forest, and then make for the forest of Lorien, before he could finally enter into the mines.

[Prehysterical]

Appearing to be a squat black rock sitting before the banks of the river, Thrar considered the forest like he would a potential enemy. His pupiless white eyes stared at the treeline, equally white eyebrows creased in a frown that pushed his short-trimmed beard. Here was the first real test of the small group that he had gathered. All five Dwarves that had dared to come with him to reinforce Balin's noble expedition. But now, before they even saw the fabled the outer walls of their ancestral home, they first had to pass through the domain of the isolated and arrogant Wood Elves. Thrar didn't care whether or not King Thranduil had actually buried the hatchet with his people. He knew that they would not help him or his kin in taking back Khazad-dum. This had led him to lead the small group south from Erebor to the eastern side of the forest, where the entrance to the Old Forest Road lay barely cleared among the dark trees. The only other real option was to head south around the forest, but rumors said that Dol Guldur was stirring once again. This was the fastest, and safest, way available. Once they exited, they would have to follow the Anduin south for many miles before finally reaching Lorien. That was a lot of empty ground to cover.

Turning around, Thrar looked over his fellowship. At four and a half feet, only Harsk matched him in height, but the deep dwarf of the Iron Hills outmassed all of them. The scale mail and helm of the Ironfoot legion only made him more massive, the steel gray giving color to the onyx skin beneath. Thrar stood out like a bruised thumb among their number, but all had seen fit to follow him in this venture. Elgar, who had grown up along with him in the Iron Hills and eagerly awaited the chance to shed goblin blood with his large axe. Thoya, a ranger from Erebor who never truly felt at home anywhere and flirted with the male members of the expedition mercilessly. She knew better than to waste her time on Thrar when he was this focused, however. And then there were Harsk and Dwylin, relatives in some fashion, and Khazram. For one reason or another, they had all pledged their service. All of them seemed excited to finally be on the road. That was good. They'd need every ounce of enthusiasm they could muster.

Seeing Thoya coyly twirling an end of Dwylin's beard, Thrar decides to put them on alert. In a deep voice made even deeper by the sounds of Khuzdul, Thrar suggests, "Thoya, why don't you go with Khazram and scout ahead? We need to find the stone path through the forest, or we'll waste several days' worth of supplies finding our way out of this forsaken forest."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin shudders as he rises from his bedroll and sees the ill omen. He slaps the woman's hand out of his beard and feigns irritation at her attentions. "Oy, lass. Not with all the company 'bout!" Looking about their small camp, he notes Thrar standing on last watch- facing the setting blood-colored moon, his brother yet sleeping, and their companions- the rangers stirring in their bedrolls. "An ill sight to start tha day, that," Dwylin mutters to Thrar, as he begins to pack his roll. "An' just in time fer tha blasted Mirkwood, too. Never will see why the elves love these thrice-damned trees so much; Feel much safer 'neath the ground, out of sight, I always have..."

Not much of a morning person, Dwylin continues to gripe, mostly beneath his breath, as he sets his bedroll aside and stirs the coals from last night's fire. With a small iron cup from his mess kit, he heats some water to boiling. Poured into the larger kettle, the result is pleasantly warm, but not scalding water to rinse the sleep from his eyes. He gently shakes Khazram, before handing him a small cup of the warm liquid. "Thrar says yer ta look ahead with Thoya," he rumbles, as soon as his eyelids part.

Dwylin returns his attention to the fire, waking slowly as he usually does. Several long sips of warm water help a bit. With a sigh, he turns to his slumbering brother, and nudges Harsk. "Oy! Sleepyhead!" he calls into his brothers ear, "Best be risin' if ya plan to move 'afore the sun sets!"

Gnawing on a bite of dried meat and bread, Dwylin turns to face the woods. He mutters, as dawn's first rays begin filtering through the dense leaves. "Damned trees..."

[Untarr]

Khazram parts one eye at the approach of Dwylin.


"Thrar says yer ta look ahead with Thoya,"

Nodding, he takes the cup. Sitting up enough to take a sip. Looking up at the sky through the dense trees, he audibly sighs. Not natural. Having spent most of his life in the mines, the vastness of the sky continued to intimidate him. Not for the first, or last time, he wondered if agreeing to this trek was a good idea. Thrar was a friend but this...he eyes the sky once more...this was asking a lot.

Having slept in his armor, it only takes scant moments for him to prepare himself for the trek. Picking up his axe and bow, he straps the axe behind his head, whilst continuing to hold the bow. Moving across the camp he eyes Thoya with a hint of distaste. "Wench. Lets go. The sooner we get to Khazad-dum the better."

Barely slowing his walk for her to catch up, he begins to search ahead for the stone path that Thrar's been talking about for days.


[roll0] Survival
[roll1] Perception

Both trying to locate the path, and the survival check would be used to find any possible game to be had.

[MuffinMan]

Harsk only shuts his eyes tighter and grunts angrily at Dwylin's admonition, which prompts his older brother to start nudging him with his boot, harder and harder until at last Harsk can stand it no more. "Fine, blast ya! I'm up, I'm up!" With another groan that turns into several muttered Orcish curses under his breath, the youngest son of Dwalin rolls out of his blankets and sits up to face the new day.

He begins his morning as he always does, by kneeling in front of the great chest holding his alchemical supplies and meticulously counting and double-counting every beaker and reagent. Once he's finally satisfied that they're all still accounted for, he nods to himself and starts donning his gear. After his chainmail shirt comes his great leather bandolier, jingling and clinking with the score of alchemical vials he always keeps within arms reach. A well-worn battleaxe, its haft engraved with the rune of the house of Dwalin, takes its usual place on his right hip, and a pinch of Shire tabac takes its usual place in his pipe. Puffing contentedly, he takes a seat next to Dwylin at the fire and pulls out mortar and pestle to begin mixing the components of particularly foul-smelling brew, which he insists is something called a mutagen. He is halfway through the process before he finally looks up to take in the blood-red sun and the forest's tense silence.

"Oy, that's not what ya want to see on a day like this..." he mutters to noone in particular. "Hey Thrar, how much further, d'ya think?"

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram and Thoya walk together into the trees, and Khazram's eyes dart about as he searches for the path. The trees curl, as if they are gazing downward at him, and the unnerving display is enough to even put Thoya on her toes. The wench keeps her mouth shut and her hand on her weapon as her gaze shifts from side to side, seeking any sign of danger.

Khazram locates the path that will lead them through Mirkwood, and he remembers the old adage from back in his days. "Once you've found the path, do not leave it for any reason." He's quite certain to stick to that, lest he be gobbled up by all the beasties that lurk around.

A crow caws loudly overhead and the dwarf spins around just in time to see an enormous murder of crows flying towards him at top speed!

Initiative (Crows): [roll0]
Initiative (Thoya): [roll1]

[Prehysterical]

The others seem unnerved by the red sun. Yes, it was not a good sign, but he refused to let it be an omen for their journey. Instead, he responds to Harsk's query. "Oh, lad, we aren't even on the other side of Mirkwood yet! Once we get through the Woodland Realm, I'm willing to call that the halfway point... at least, for those of us who marched from the Iron Hills. Get used to being above ground, lads. The only caves between here and Khazad-dum are goblin holes. Speaking of which, I want to hear no more of that Orcish nonsense so close to these woods," Thrar admonishes. Leaning on his hammer-headed polearm, Thrar bites into a piece of cram and takes a swig from his canteen. "Elgar, my pretty elven princess, how are you this morning? You've been awful quiet. Mayhaps you're hoping that some of those giant spiders come pay us a visit just so you can bury that axe in something?"

[Untarr]

Khazram, son of Kumir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=643127)
M NG Dwarf Ranger, Level 3, Init 5, HP 39/39, Speed 20
AC 17, Touch 12, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +6, Base Attack Bonus 3
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Great Axe Melee (1d12+4, x3)
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Composite Longbow (+2) (60) Ranged (1d8+2, x3)
Worn Cestus (-) Melee (1d4+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt w/ Armored Kilt (+5 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 17, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 10
Condition None
"Run!" Khazram yells whilst pulling out his bow. He lets a single arrow fly before heading for the nearest cover.


Attack thw crows

[roll0]
[roll1]

Move towards a tree or anything else that may help prevent the crows from dive-bombing them.

[NeoSeraphi]

Elgar frowns as Thrar ribs him and turns around. "It'll be quite the struggle getting through Mirkwood, spiders or no. We should let Khazram clear us a path before we really start moving as a group, or else we might just get lost in the foliage."

Before Thrar can ask what is going on, a loud swearing sound comes from the forest. It would seem that Khazram has run into trouble.

------------------------------------------

Khazram fires an arrow at the flock, knocking a single bird out of the sky. The others swarm around him and peck and bite at him. He is trapped in a haze of feathers as they tear at his skin.

Swarms do not need to roll attacks. Khaz takes [roll0] damage and must roll a DC 11 Fortitude save or be nauseated for 1 round as the swarm distracts him.

[Untarr]

Dropping his bow, Khazram dives out of the swarm. Standing up from a roll, he turns about with great ax in hand.

"Attacked by the sky? Should have never left the caves!" he growls before swinging his ax in a wide arc through the flock of birds.


Power Attack Swarm
[roll0]
[roll1]

AoO if/when they move to attack again
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Prehysterical]

Khazram's voice has Thrar standing straight up. "Khazram is in trouble. Everyone, grab your weapons." Thrar picks up his shield and puts it on while the others grab what they need.

[MuffinMan]

"O'course he has! Hells!" Harsk scrambles to his feet and fetches his longspear, before looking in the direction Thrar indicated. "Let's go!"

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin drops his lukewarm mug, eliciting a steaming hiss from the edge of the fire. He scrambles to his bedroll to grab his crossbow and charges off after his companions. His loping gait (for a Dwarf) quickly brings him back alongside his brother and allies.

Thanking his ancestors that he leaves the thing loaded, he presses the cocking mechanism as his legs churn beneath him. "We're a comin' Khazram!" he bellows, as he charges towards the sound of the voice.

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram's fierce swing causes the flock to flap up, retreating into the air. It doesn't take much to see that they are no ordinary birds, and the dwarf can feel the eyes of Isengard burning into his flesh.

The group catches up to the pair of dwarves along the path, taking a moment to look around. The forest feels so cold. Alive, but cold. Like the air itself is angry with them.

[Prehysterical]

Seeing Khaz covered in scratches, Thrar runs up and looks him appraisingly. "What happened? Are you all right, lad?"

[Untarr]

"Birds of some sort. I think they were...crous? croos? Crows!" His face registers confusion as he searches for the right word.

"I could feel their evil. The enemy has set himself against us. Can you feel that? It's in the air as well.." Khazram shivers. "Feels colder than any cave..."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin grimaces and spits. "Blasted carrion-feeders is what they are! Ain' got no good to 'em at all, if yer askin' me." He looks around the trees with a shudder, before turning to Thrar. "I ain' no good with a map, so yer gonna have ta tell me- how long will it take ta be through these here woods?"

He holds the crossbow down, but ready, as his eyes scan the sky. His arms and shoulders are tensed, ready to bolt into action.

[NeoSeraphi]

As the group makes their way along the path, the wind begins to blow. It tickles the leaves of the trees and creates a soft, eerie melody. The roots of the trees bulge out of the ground and snake along the edge of the path, almost as if the forest itself is waiting to trip and grab at the adventurers, but the boundaries of the path are their safe haven.

After a few hours of marching, Harsk hears a strange sound coming from his left. "No, please! Don't kill m- AAAARGH!" The bloodcurling female scream echoes throughout the forest, though no one but Harsk can hear it.

[MuffinMan]

"I could feel their evil. The enemy has set himself against us. Can you feel that? It's in the air as well.." Khazram shivers. "Feels colder than any cave..."

"Enough o'that talk, now." Harsk cuts him off, but relieve at finding his ally well shows in his eyes. "Goin off alone to scout... Seeming like a worse and worse idea in this blasted place!" He glowers at the trees around them as they go back to retrieve their gear and finish breaking camp.


After a few hours of marching, Harsk hears a strange sound coming from his left. "No, please! Don't kill m- AAAARGH!" The bloodcurling female scream echoes throughout the forest, though no one but Harsk can hear it.

At the sound of the scream, Harsk reacts immediately and violently, shrugging off his pack and turning to set his spear against the direction it came from. "Did ya hear that?!?! Someone's gettin killed in there!!!" He looks, wide-eyed, at the faces of his companions, not understanding their lack of reaction. "C'mon, we've got ta help em, or find out what's in there!! What's wrong with ya?!?!"

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin looks at his brother with open confusion. "Hear what now?" He looks around the group to register the rest of their reactions. "Yer hearin' things, laddie," he concludes.

"I dunno what yer hearin', but ye'd best remember where ye are. These woods aren' ta be trifled with. Stay on tha path, an' ye'll be jest fine..." He carefully maneuvers himself between his brother and the direction from which he seems to expect incident. He shoulders the crossbow, to free his right hand, and paces just a half-step behind Harsk, eyeing his brother with distrust for his intentions.

[Prehysterical]

"Birds of some sort. I think they were...crous? croos? Crows!" His face registers confusion as he searches for the right word.

"I could feel their evil. The enemy has set himself against us. Can you feel that? It's in the air as well.." Khazram shivers. "Feels colder than any cave..."
Thrar spits on the forest floor. "The enemy is against everyone these days, Khazram. We'll just have to keep in mind that something is keeping us in mind."

Dwylin grimaces and spits. "Blasted carrion-feeders is what they are! Ain' got no good to 'em at all, if yer askin' me." He looks around the trees with a shudder, before turning to Thrar. "I ain' no good with a map, so yer gonna have ta tell me- how long will it take ta be through these here woods?"
Thrar has to think hard about that question. Thorin's Company entered the forest far north of the Old Forest Road, way past the mountains on their right. "It's two hundred and fifty miles to the Old Ford on the River Anduin. The better question is 'how fast can you walk'?"

"
At the sound of the scream, Harsk reacts immediately and violently, shrugging off his pack and turning to set his spear against the direction it came from. "[COLOR="#0000CD"]Did ya hear that?!?! Someone's gettin killed in there!!!" He looks, wide-eyed, at the faces of his companions, not understanding their lack of reaction. "C'mon, we've got ta help em, or find out what's in there!! What's wrong with ya?!?!"
It was time to nip this problem in the bud. Setting the head of his hammer down in the dirt, Thrar fiercely grabs Harsk's shoulder and has him face him. "Harsk, look at me, lad! Look at me.

The deadliest thing about this place isn't crows, spiders, elves, orcs, or wargs. The forest itself tries to trick you. Makes you see and hear things that don't exist so that you can stray from the path. That's what happened to Thorin's Company. They were lost in the woods for a month before the elves captured them. As much as it pains me to say it, that was the only thing that saved them.

I'm only going to say this once, and I will hear no more of it. Stay. On. The path. Do you understand?"

[MuffinMan]

"I, uh... Aye!" Harsk nods in agreement at Thrar, his expression reddening as recognition dawns on him. "You'll have ta do better'n that!!" he cries angrily at the forest in the direction the scream had come from, shaking his fist to conceal his own embarassment. Retrieving his pack, he glances somewhat sheepishly at Thrar and his brother as he readjusts the straps. "Sorry about that - won't happen again!" Relighting his pipe, he falls back into marching formation with a renewed stream of muttered curses directed at the forest - although this time in proper Dwarven, at least.

[Prehysterical]

Thrar claps him on the shoulder, offering encouragement this time. "I understand, Harsk. If I'd never heard the stories meself, I might have believed you. Don't let it get to you." Retrieving his hammer, Thrar continues along with the fellowship.

[NeoSeraphi]

As the group continues along the path, Harsk hears one more scream before a loud crunching sound, and then deafening silence.

The group progresses slowly through Mirkwood, but Khazram's keen eyes cause him to stop. Something is odd here. A few leaves appear to have been arranged on the floor in front of him, their order and space between too consistent to have occurred naturally. He should search the area (not leaving the path, just the immediate area).

I need Perception checks from anyone who cares to make them

[Untarr]

Holding up his hand, Khazram stops the group. Pointing two fingers at his eyes, he points at the ground. Slowly, he approaches the suspicious spot, carefully keeping an eye on his surroundings.


[roll0]

N.B. This is my last post until Sunday. Getting Married. Be aware that all the miscellaneous bonuses on my character sheet are only valid while underground. Please continue calling Thoya "wench" on Khazram's behalf. :D

[Prehysterical]

Looking at the leaves that their forward scout points out, Thrar scowls and swings the head of his hammer through the leaf cover. Turning to face the others, he explains, "Some bastard set up a pitfall in the middle of the path. Elgar, you're a good climber. Get to the other side and I'll throw you a rope so that the rest of us can get over." Thrar fetches the elven rope, imported to the Lonely Mountain, from his pack.

[MuffinMan]

Harsk frowns down at the too-symmetrical leaves, probing gingerly ahead with his longspear. "Hold on, let me see if I can disable the mechanism. In the meantime keep an eye out - whoever set this up might be nearby ta see when it's sprung." Shrugging off his pack again, he kneels and squints low to the ground, looking for the trigger to release the pitfall...
Attempt to disable the trap using DD [roll0]
"Nope." Rising, he brushes the dust off of his hands and knees and surveys the pit again. "Think ya can make it over, Elgar? 'course I guess we could just go around..."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin grunts. "Ugh. What kinda person digs pitfalls 'n holes in the only path through tha damned woods? As if this place weren' messy enough without the 'help.' Blasted, damned..." He continues to mutter nonsense as Elgar starts to work on Thrar's orders.

[NeoSeraphi]

Elgar sets about traversing the dangerous trap, sliding alongside the inner edge as he reaches for the other side. However, there is a sharp piercing sound from below and the dwarf's eyes go white, rolling up into the back of his head as his body slackens and an enormous spider the size of a wolf emerges, sinisterly wrapping the man in its web.

The sight puts the group on edge. They had always been told the beasts of Mirkwood could not cross the path that ran through it.

[Prehysterical]

For a split-second, Thrar is stunned by the sight of the spider wrapping his comrade in webbing. Surprise gives way to righteous anger as he swings his longhammer at the fell beast. "Get off him, you bastard!"
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

[MuffinMan]

Surprise Round

"Whoah!! Elgar, wake up!!" Harsk tries yelling to wake his companion as he joins Thrar at the edge of the pit, stabbing down at the spider with his longspear.

Initiative: [roll0]

Assuming Harsk is in range to hit with longspear, Power Attack!
atk [roll1] (-1 power)
cc [roll2] (20/x3)
dmg [roll3] (+3 power)

(If not in range, just move to put the spider in striking distance.)

AoO if applicable:
atk [roll4] (-1 power)
cc [roll5] (20/x3)
dmg [roll6] (+3 power)

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 33/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (6 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)


Dwylin is taken somewhat by surprise when his companion is brutally assaulted. Fortunately, he responds to danger with an instinctive grace, tumbling to the side to get a clear shot, and rising to a knee to fire his crossbow with unerring accuracy. "Heh! Take that, ya beastie!" he calls, as his bolt strikes deep and true into the spider's flank.

[roll0] init

[roll1] crossbow attack (+1 PBS, +1 coordinated shot)
[roll2] CC (26, x2)
[roll3] dmg (PBS)
[roll4] crit bonus

[NeoSeraphi]

The two dwarves that approach the side attack the spider, accomplishing little more than being nuisances. However, Dwylin fires a bolt directly into the spider's eyes, and the creature shrieks in pain before...dropping...along with the dwarf it is carrying...into the pit.

The piton and rope remain on the side of the pitfall. The group can follow down to retrieve their comrade...if he even survived the fall.

[Farmerbink]

His sudden exuberance fades quickly into shock as Elgar's body follows the spider into the pit. "Blast it all!" he calls out.

"Outa tha way, lemme through!" Dropping his crossbow, he dashes around the pit to the piton, and grabs the rope. With the agility of a practiced climber, he steps into the pit, leaning back to brace his feet against it's edge. With sure and steady steps, he eases his way down the hole.

"Hold on, Elgar! Ah'm comin!"

IIRC, rope with a wall to brace is DC 5. I have +6 to climb. I'd prefer to increase the DC 10 to to climb accelerated, and take 10 for a 16. If a check is necessary: [roll0].

At the bottom, step 1 is to check on Elgar. [roll1] heal.
If Elgar is alive but unconscious, I'll use my first spell of the day on a cure light wounds for [roll2] HP.

[NeoSeraphi]

Dwylin climbs down into the darkness, reaching the bottom of the pit and finding the spider lying dead with Elgar alive but slightly hurt from the fall. With his magic, Dwylin cures the wounds along the man's cheeks, and attempts to rouse him.

After a few moments, Elgar stands up and shakes his head, looking around in confusion. "Wh-where are we?"

Dwylin opens his mouth to answer that they are just beneath the path but as he looks up he is horrified to see the ceiling, as well as no sign of the rope or the exit. The two of them left the path...they can't return now...

Looking around, they are inside a tunnel with many spider webs. They can head north or south. Both paths continue past their darkvision.

[Farmerbink]

"Gah! I swear, them thrice-bedamned Elves 're behind this! Ye can count on it!" He mutters and paces back and forth for several seconds, looking down both hallways. With a rueful grin, he turns back to Elgar. "Well, we're alive, 'n relatively unhurt- it coulda gone much worse. 'An I've always preferred tha darkness underground to the surface, anyway- even if it is crawlin' with spiders."

A sudden realization dawns on him- his crossbow lies on the path above, where he dropped it, and his face pales. A truly vile string of curses begin flowing from his lips at an impressive rate. After several moments of this, he lapses into a brief silence. "Mebbe tha rest o' them'll come down, when we don' go back up?" He draws his warhammer, with a hint of unease, and settles into to wait- at least for a few minutes- before making any overly rash decisions. With his back to the eastern wall, he peers alternating down both hallways.

Dwylin, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2) Left on the path
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)
Spells remaining, 1st level: 3/4

[MuffinMan]

"Ho-hoooo!! Well shot, brother!" Harsk cheers and shakes his spear as the fell spider plummets to the ground, Dwylin's bolt transfixed between its many eyes. He kneels down at the edge of the pit to observe his brothers ministrations to revive Elgar, and breathes a sigh of relief when their companion finally regains consciousness.


Dwylin opens his mouth to answer that they are just beneath the path but as he looks up he is horrified to see the ceiling, as well as no sign of the rope or the exit. The two of them left the path...they can't return now...

His relief is short-lived, however, as he notices the pair's strange behavior. Instead of climbing back out of the pit, his brother and Elgar remain on the bottom, casting wary looks about themselves and tensing as though expecting an attack. "Oy! C'mon back up now!" Harsk calls down, an edge of panic creeping into his voice. "Dwylin, Elgar! Don't be daft - quit messin around and get out of there!" He turns to Thrar and Khazram with fear in his eyes. "What's goin on - why aren't they listening?!"

[Prehysterical]

Thrar's heart rises into his throat when the spider falls with Elgar, but Dwylin's quick reactions soon see Elgar's eyes open again. Thrar breathes a sigh of relief, but Harsk's question puzzles him as well. The answer strikes like a lightning bolt and Thrar roars at the woods. "That's cheating! That doesn't count!" Taking a second to recover his composure, Thrar explains, "They left the path. Now, they can't find it again." He sighs. "Which means that we must as well. Two dwarves will not survive alone in these regions. Harsk, grab your brother's crossbow. We're going down."
Thrar's going to take 10 to get down to the others.

[NeoSeraphi]

The group climbs down into the tunnel and as each one of them touches the ground, the world above vanishes, replaced by cold hard ceiling.

Thoya looks around in confusion. "I've never heard of a cave below a forest before. You would think with all the huge trees that we'd see more roots down here..."

Her observation has merit, and as the group looks around they see what appears to be a perfectly symmetrical, hand-carved tunnel with no roots, no wildlife, just webs and dirt.

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin grunts in grudging agreement. "Aye. These walls look less like a cave, an' more like a prison. A prison with spiders fer wardens... Still, it's better 'n the forest, ta my eyes. Which way, Thrar? I'll help look ahead- unless ya want me as rear guard."

[Prehysterical]

Reluctantly, Thrar says, "Let's head south. I'd rather go towards Dol Guldur than go farther north and swing back. Besides, who knows if goblins live in those mountains...

Dwylin, I want you in the back with the crossbow. If any more spiders come up behind us, I'll want to see another shot like the one earlier. Everyone else, sort yourselves as you feel comfortable. Maybe Thoya can keep you company, Dwylin," Thrar says jokingly.

As they journey south, Thrar is happy to note that there are some mushrooms growing on the walls. Not so lifeless, after all... "Harsk, I'm putting you in charge of these. You figure out who gets what while I try to navigate." Even with the help of a compass, however, Thrar still has trouble.

[MuffinMan]

"Khazram, you've got a pretty good head with tunnels - you oughta take point with Thrar!" Harsk encourages his ally with a slap on the back before taking the offered mushrooms from their leader.

As they begin to make their way through the tunnels he sniffs at the fungi and nibbles the end of one before nodding to himself and thrusting the bunch at Elgar. "Here, lad - nearly gettin ate by a giant spider's bound to take it ought of ya - got to keep your strength up!" Sniffing at one remaining mushroom, he remarks, "'course if ya don't want em all, I've always wanted to try brewin a mushroom stout!" He then falls silent, considering and discarding various mushroom-infused cocktail in his head recipes from the rear of the group, by Dwylin, as they make their way deeper into the spider-tunnels.

If relevant,
Perception [roll0]
Knowledge: Dungeoneering (to Aid Another) [roll1]

[NeoSeraphi]

Thrar and Khazram walk at the head of the group, searching around for any signs of danger. As they walk, cutting webs out of their way, the cavern echoes with the sound of their steps. A few little skittering feet sound in the background, and Thrar feels a bit of fear well up in his chest. They may have taken out a single spider, but it had equally taken Elgar out of the picture with just one stab of its stinger. If there were more of them around, the group might not stand a chance.

Dwylin walks in the rear with Thoya, who smiles appreciatively at him. "Wow, that was a really nice shot back there. You saved Elgar's life you know. Is there any way I can show my gratitude?" She winks. Dwylin keeps his eyes peeled, but he doesn't see anything interesting coming forward to attack them.

Harsk and Elgar trek in the middle, and Elgar devours the mushroom given to him with thanks. Harsk keeps his ears sharp and frowns as he catches an unexpected sound...a voice. From up ahead.

"Ideem nath aloren, ik'thal mara sombria."

The words are Elvish. It means "I believe we are lost, but we cannot stop to sleep."

[Untarr]

Looking instantly more comfortable upon hitting the floor of the pit, Khazram lets a smile sneak onto his face before drawing out his bow and taking the lead.

Khazram, holds up his finger to quiet the group. Inching forward, he looks to see whom the voices belong to.



[roll0] Stealth
[roll1] Perception

[NeoSeraphi]

At the edge of his darkvision, Khazram spies a pair of elves carrying a torch. They are discussing their plan of action in the midst of three dead spiders. Each of them has a bow and quiver slung over their shoulders.

[Untarr]

Returning to the group he quietly informs the group of the threat in front of them

"Three elves. Stuck down here as well"

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin nods at Thrar, taking up his assignment with a mixture of annoyance and relief. Nothing fun ever happens at the back, but at least he's got his crossbow back. As they begin to walk, he releases the bolt carriage and replaces the empty slot i the cartridge.

With a full crossbow and clear eyes, he maintains Thrar's pace with practiced ease, keeping his eyes peeled to the sides and periodically glancing to the rear.

"Wow, that was a really nice shot back there. You saved Elgar's life you know. Is there any way I can show my gratitude?" She winks.
"Oy, lass. You ever think a nought else? Don't misunderstand, I'll be happy ta let ya show yer gratitude, and maybe more 'n that, too, if we get tha chance. Fer now, though, it'd be best if ya helped make sure there was a chance, eh?"

At the first sign of company, Dwylin too hits the floor. Crouched with his crossbow overhead, he sights down the hallway. Focused but relaxed, he trusts his ears to alert him to threats from the rear as Khazram passes just out of sight ahead.

"Three elves. Stuck down here as well"
A single quiet breath slips past his lips. He rises to his feet and slinks forward to hear Thrar's response, now facing the rear- just in case.

[roll0] perception
[roll1] stealth

[MuffinMan]

Harsk nods at Khazram's assessment, having just come to the same conclusion himself. "Well, that's good news, innit?" he whispers to the others in a low bass rumble. "I'm no lover of elves, mind, but I trust em a flaming site more than anything else in this flaming forest. Maybe we should let em join us - just till we get back to the surface?"

[Prehysterical]

Scowling at the news, Thrar is nonetheless forced to agree. A bigger group made for a less inviting target for ambushes. But it wouldn't do to try and sneak up on elves when they were probably just as nervous.

Tapping the metal butt on the end of his hammer onto the stone floor, Thrar calls down the tunnel toward the elves. He speaks one of the first words that anyone ever learns of the Elvish Tongue. "Mellon!"

[NeoSeraphi]

The elves blink as Thrar approaches.

"Mellon syl'via taresto ikari?" the elf with the blonde hair asks his friend.

"Ash'tala rafaam mistal," his comrade answers with a shrug.

They turn to face the company of dwarves.

"(Elven) Greetings, from Lorien," one of the elves says politely.

"(Elven) We thought we were the only free men down here in the tunnels. I'm sorry. We should have assumed that dwarves were the ones who dug them. Please, do not presume us to be trespassing," the other elf adds, a look of sincere apology on his face.

Their original dialogue: "Hey, is that dwarf a friend of yours?"

"No. Crazy sewer people."

[Prehysterical]

"Watch your tongue," Thrar warns the second elf. To the blonde one, he continues, "You're not trespassing. We wound up down here after spiders ambushed one of our kin. These tunnels were made by no Dwarf, from what I can tell. It stinks of dark magic at work, especially since the Old Forest Road was lost to us.

If you're from Lorien, then good news for you: we're heading down that way, too. Stick with us and put those elven eyes and ears to good use. Follow me, now." Having made their presence known, Thrar goes back to examining his compass and trying to find a path. He lets the elves introduce themselves as they march.
[roll0]

[Untarr]

With nothing to say in a language they would understand, Khazram smiles. Waves. And continues with his journey. After a few minutes, a scowl crosses over his face. He turns to Thrar.

"Thrar. I have a feeling with these tunnels. Let me see that map."


[roll0] Survival for not getting lost and avoiding Hazards
[roll1] Dungeoneering for Identifying Hazards

[Prehysterical]

Reluctantly, Thrar hands over the map. If Khazram could get them out faster, he was willing to give up the reins for a bit.

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram examines the map and frowns, moving towards the eastern wall of the tunnel. He determines that if the group continues to advance down this road, they will eventually reach Hilolo's nest. Hilolo, the dwarves know, is the Broodmother of Mirkwood, a powerful spider queen who is larger than even an orc, and whose children are likely the ones that coated these tunnels in nests.

As the group continues down the corridor with the elves, they come to a split in the road. One road seems to travel straight, one turns to the right and one turns to the left. The map offers no assistance here, since it only covers the forest, and no one could guess where in the forest they currently are.

[MuffinMan]

Harsk frowns as he studies the four-way intersection. "Any ideas here? I'm all turned around in these blasted tunnels! Which way is north, again?" He cranes his neck for a closer look at the party's compass.

[Untarr]

"We need to get out of these woods before turning south, me thinks. This journey would be a great deal safer out from under these trees. Choose the one that looks like it heads west."

Khazaram shows the map to Thrar, indicating the length of Mirkwood north/south vs east/west. "You see, it would be safer going straight west."

[Prehysterical]

[roll0]
"Even a beardling can see that, Khaz," Thrar snaps in short temper as he gazes at the tunnels and glances at the compass.

After orientating himself, Thrar picks what he thinks is the westward tunnel. As they walk, he pipes up, "You Elves have names, or shall I refer to the two of you as Elf One and Elf Two?"

[NeoSeraphi]

The blonde elf nods politely. "(Elven) You may call me 'Sira'."

The brunette elf shrugs. "(Elven) And I am 'Corel'."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin chortles quietly in the goofy darkness. "I kina liked "Elf one" an' "Elf two," meself. Let's get a move on then, eh?" The crass Dwarf paces quietly at the rear of the motley procession, keeping his eyes peeled, more to the rear than the front as they attempt to evade Hilolo and her lair.

[roll0] perception
[roll1] stealth

[NeoSeraphi]

As the group moves, Dwylin hears some more skittering. At least one spider is on its way towards them from the rear.

[Farmerbink]

"Look liv'ly, boys! We got comp'ny back here!"

Turning his back towards his allies, Dwylin turns his full attention towards the rear, and the sound of skittering spider feet.

[NeoSeraphi]

The group sees three wolf sized spiders approaching them from behind. They are at the edge of their vision.

You guys get a surprise round but the spiders are 60' away

[MuffinMan]

Surprise Round

"Look out!!!" Harsk bellows as he quickly preps a bomb vial and tosses it at the oncoming spiders.

Throw a bomb at the closest spider, or whichever would maximize the 5' splash impact.

attack: [roll0] (-4 for two 20' range increments) vs touch AC
crit confirm: [roll1] (20/x2)
damage: [roll2]
splash damage: 5
miss direction: [roll3] (hopefully not needed; miss rules here (http://paizo.com/pathfinderRPG/prd/coreRulebook/combat.html#throw-splash-weapon))

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 33/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (6 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)


From the rear of the group, Dwylin steps away from the spiders. He intones a brief chant, "Dall, father of Dwalin, guide my attacks!" A dim, brief glow suffuses his person, as he takes aim at the spiders.

cast divine favor: +2 attack and damage (fate's favored trait) for 10 rounds

[Untarr]

Khazram, son of Kumir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=643127)
M NG Dwarf Ranger, Level 3, Init 5, HP 35/39, Speed 20
AC 17, Touch 12, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +6, Base Attack Bonus 3
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Great Axe Melee (1d12+4, x3)
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Composite Longbow (+2) (60) Ranged (1d8+2, x3)
Worn Cestus (-) Melee (1d4+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt w/ Armored Kilt (+5 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 17, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 10
Condition None


Just to make sure, Khazram's vision is 90ft. If that ever matters.

Pulling his bow back, Khazram lets loose with two arrows that sizzle through the air.


Full Attack Rapid Shot

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[Prehysterical]

Thrar pushes himself past the others, making himself a wall against the incoming spiders. He braces his shield and readies his hammer to swipe at their attackers.
This is the awkward bit where I mention that I forgot to give him his bonus feats. :smallredface:
Look here (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=629209) for the revisions
Thrar spends his action to cast Mythic Barkskin

[NeoSeraphi]

The spiders advance, unhindered by bombs or arrows as they move to secure their prey.

The spiders double move forward, making the closest one directly in front of Bink. So you have 5', 10', and 15' between the enemies and you. Round 1 begins! Everyone post your actions.

[Untarr]

A scowl grows on Khazram's face as he continues his volley of arrows.

"Those elves good for fighting or just looking pretty?"



[roll]1dd8+2 10


[roll]1dd8+2 3

[MuffinMan]

Round 1

Nodding at Khazram, Harsk calls back to the elves as he takes position behind Thrar to strike with his longspear.

Hey, pointy-ears! Don't just stand there staring - shoot them!
Move into range to strike the nearest spider with longspear, then Power Attack!

atk [roll0] (-1 power)
cc [roll1] (20/x3)
dmg [roll2] (+3 power)

AoOs if applicable:

atk [roll3] (-1 power)
cc [roll4] (20/x3)
dmg [roll5] (+3 power)

atk [roll6] (-1 power)
cc [roll7] (20/x3)
dmg [roll8] (+3 power)

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 33/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (5 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Prehysterical]

Thrar is too focused on the incoming spiders to bother shouting commands. He swings at the spider again, aiming to actually at least hit this time.
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)
1st level spells: 3/4 remaining
Divine Favor +2 luck bonus to attack and damage


Dwylin steps backwards, putting just a little bit of distance between herself and the spiders. "Time ta die, beastie! Take this!" He releases a bolt with a quiet thrum,

5-foot step, shoot:
[roll0] attack (2 BAB, 3 dex, 2 DF, 1 PBS, 1 coordinated shot)
[roll1] CC (28-29, x2)
[roll2] damage (1st normal damage, 2nd crit bonus)

[NeoSeraphi]

The spiders move forward, though the dwarven onslaught does slow them quite a bit. Thoya, standing next to Dwylin, manages to score a blow against the lead spider as well.

Crawling on the sides of the cavern, the spiders move past Dwylin easily. One attacks Thrar, one attacks Harsk, and the third stays in front of Dwylin and bites him.

Attacks (If you get hit, DC 11 Fort save or suffer poison)

Vs Thrar: [roll0]
[roll1]

Vs Harsk: [roll2]
[roll3]

Vs Dwylin: [roll4]
[roll5]

[MuffinMan]

Round 2

"Owww!!! Blasted buggers!" Harsk cries out in pain as one of the spiders scores a vicious bite against his unarmored leg. Stepping back to gain clearance, he continues to attack with his longspear.

Harsk passed the save vs poison (rolled in OOC). 5ft step if necessary to achieve distance, then Power Attack w/ longspear:

atk [roll0] (-1 power)
cc [roll1] (20/x3)
dmg [roll2] (+3 power)
cdmg [roll3]

AoOs if applicable:
atk [roll4] (-1 power)
cc [roll5] (20/x3)
dmg [roll6] (+3 power)
cdmg [roll7]

atk [roll8] (-1 power)
cc [roll9] (20/x3)
dmg [roll10] (+3 power)
cdmg [roll11]

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 26/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (5 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Untarr]

Khazram, son of Kumir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=643127)
M NG Dwarf Ranger, Level 3, Init 5, HP 35/39, Speed 20
AC 17, Touch 12, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +6, Base Attack Bonus 3
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Great Axe Melee (1d12+4, x3)
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Composite Longbow (+2) (60) Ranged (1d8+2, x3)
Worn Cestus (-) Melee (1d4+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt w/ Armored Kilt (+5 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 17, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 10
Condition None

Dropping his bow, Khazram moves into melee whilst drawing his Great Axe. With a long over head swing, he attempts to cleave the nearest spider in two!


Drop Bow, move into melee while drawing Great Axe as part of the move.

Power Attack Nearest Spider
[roll0]
[roll1]

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram's swing strikes true, easily killing the spider in one hit.

[MuffinMan]

Round 3?

Harsk continues backing up and jabbing at the oncoming spiders with his spear, favoring his injured leg slightly.

5ft step if necessary for clearance, then Power Attack!

atk [roll0], cc [roll1], dmg [roll2], cdmg [roll3]

AoOs if applicable:
atk [roll4], cc [roll5], dmg [roll6], cdmg [roll7]
atk [roll8], cc [roll9], dmg [roll10], cdmg [roll11]

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 26/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (5 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

(Not sure if we're ready for round 3, but I don't want to hold us up if we are! Disregard and I'll delete if not)

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)
1st level spells: 3/4 remaining
Divine Favor +2 luck bonus to attack and damage (8, 7 rounds remaining)


With a grunt and a grimace, Dwylin fires again into the fray.


[roll0] attack (2 BAB, 3 dex, 2 DF, 1 PBS, 1 coordinated shot)
[roll1] CC (28-29, x2) These rolls don't take soft cover into account, if appropriate.
[roll2] damage (1st normal damage, 2nd crit bonus)(+3/+3, for PBS and divine favor)

In case we're already on round 3, I'll go ahead and give another set of rolls:

[roll3] attack (2 BAB, 3 dex, 2 DF, 1 PBS, 1 coordinated shot)
[roll4] CC (28-29, x2)
[roll5] damage (1st normal damage, 2nd crit bonus)(+3/+3, for PBS and divine favor)

[Prehysterical]

Round 2
"Nice swing, Khaz! Do it again!" Thrar whacks again with the hammer.
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

[Untarr]

Going on my honeymoon. Last post will be tomorrow. Please use the character's skills and such when I am gone.

"Aye!"

Khazram nods at Thrar's words before taking another step closer to the fray and swinging again.


Priority is to attack the other wall spider if it is still there.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2] to notice what the elves are doing...

[NeoSeraphi]

The elves are frowning as they watch the encounter, looking behind them occasionally to spot any other spiders.

The dwarves attack the other two spiders, but they are unused to fighting such large prey in such tight quarters, and their attacks go wide or miss their mark.

The first spider moves towards Dwylin, fangs bared angrily.

The third spider backs away from Thrar and begins burrowing underground.

AoOs from everyone with a melee weapon.

[Untarr]

Pulling the axe of the ground with a grunt, Khazram swings it around again at the retreating spider.


[roll0]
[roll1]

[MuffinMan]

"No ya don't!" Harsk bellows as he jabs at the retreating spider. Then, dropping his spear in favor of his battleaxe, he moves to confront the spider menacing his brother Dwylin.

(Still Power Attacking for all rolls)
Lonspear AoO vs retreating spider:
atk [roll0] (-1 Power)
cc [roll1] (20/x3)
dmg [roll2] (+3 Power)
cdmg [roll3]

Move to get between the spider and Dwylin, if possible, or to flank. Battleaxe attack:
atk [roll4] (-1 Power)
cc [roll5] (20/x3)
dmg [roll6] (+3 Power)
cdmg [roll7]

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 26/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (5 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Prehysterical]

A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]
If that's the same spider that struck Thrar, he gets a +1 bonus to damage

Now that the tide has turned, Thrar presses home the advantage. He swipes at the spider going after Dwylin.
A: [roll4]
D: [roll5]
C: [roll6]
CD: [roll7]

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)
1st level spells: 3/4 remaining
Divine Favor +2 luck bonus to attack and damage (6 rounds remaining)


Dwylin recoils from the advancing spider. "'Ey now! shove off it!" With more space, and a clearer shot, he fires once more.

5-foot step and shoot. Probs last time
[roll0] attack (2 BAB, 3 dex, 2 DF, 1 PBS, 1 coordinated shot)
[roll1] CC (28-29, x2) These rolls don't take soft cover into account, if appropriate.
[roll2] damage
[roll3] crit bonus

[NeoSeraphi]

The onslaught from the dwarves is coordinated. It is precise. It is perfectly timed. And both spiders fall, turning upside down and screeching in pain as they thrash about on their backs, their spindly legs dancing madly. As their screams suddenly die out, a dark eerie silence fills the cavern.

Harsk's keen eyes notice something odd. A bit of white sticking out from the thick black fur that covers the spider's abdomen. He isn't sure what it could be, but the color difference is stark enough to draw the eye.

The elves frown, but Sira turns to nod gravely at Thrar. "(Elven) Your skill in combat is admirable, Master Dwarf. An invaluable asset in the strife that lies ahead for you. I must inform you, however, that there is a whisper in the winds. The Lady of the Wood has called, and we must answer quickly. We have no details...but the news itself is disturbing enough that it may mean the destruction of Middle Earth."

[Prehysterical]

Now that the threat has been dealt with, Thrar turns to answer the elves. "'Lady of the Wood'? You mean the Elf-Witch Galadriel?" The lady's name was fearfully whispered back in Erebor and the Iron Hills.

"Wait a minute... If you can really hear the winds whispering, why can't you point us to where it's coming from so we can get out faster?"

[NeoSeraphi]

Sira frowns. "(Elven) My apologies...there is no word in our language to describe the recent past. When I say 'there is a whisper' I mean 'there is a whisper that I heard some time ago'. We were disturbed by the news our Queen sent to us, and that was the reason we did not notice the pit fall trap that led us here."

His companion narrows his eyes. "(Elven) And if you call our Lady an 'Elf-Witch' one more time, I shall -"

Sira puts his hand on the man's shoulder and the two of them grow quiet as the ceiling begins to shake. Fear creeps into their eyes, but the sounds stop after a few moments.

Sira shakes his head. "(Elven) You fool! Control yourself better next time." To Thrar, he continues. "(Elven) Sorry about that. You see, we of the wood have a strange connection to nature. And when we fight, the world itself fights as well. That is why we cannot draw our blades against these creatures. If we attack nature, then nature will fight back. It would be far worse than the few spiders we might slay causing it."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin eyes the Elves with obvious distrust. When the ceiling starts shaking, he grips the ground for dear life, his crossbow immediately forgotten on the floor. "Oi. Sounds best you two keep yer blades sheathed, then. I can't imagine it'd be pleasant ta have them trees tryin' a come down here an' help ya. Only good thing 'bout that trap is gettin' us out from under them branches..." he mutters the last, in a somewhat dejected tone. "Still, we're alive- ain' even really hurt. We kin handle these spiders, it seems, so let's press on, shall we? Time itself won't bring our goal any closer- only the soft pads o' footfalls."

He turns to the Elves. "Are ya sayin' you're headed ta yer queen lady? An' we're headed past her, I figure.... Might as well keep going together, I 'spose..." He makes no appreciable effort to hide the dismay that he feels at the prospect of continued travel. These Elves unnerve Dwylin sorely.

[MuffinMan]

Harsk's keen eyes notice something odd. A bit of white sticking out from the thick black fur that covers the spider's abdomen. He isn't sure what it could be, but the color difference is stark enough to draw the eye.

"Look here-!" Harsk interjects abruptly. The brewer has been squatting next to the downed spider, studying its form while ignoring the conversation overhead. He points out the white patch on the spider's belly. "You pointy-ears ever seen sum'in like this?"
[roll0] to identify it, if applicable.

The ceiling shaking is enough to bring Harsk's attention back to the present. "Dwylin's right - might as well stick together for now. Wouldn't want ta be mistaken ya for a bunch of spiders in the dark - hah!" Chuckling to himself, he wipes spider ichor off the edge of his axe and retrieves his spear, ready to depart.

[NeoSeraphi]

As Harsk reaches down and lifts the tuft of fur up, the elves both swear loudly, and it is likely that the rest of the group will do the same.

http://emblemsbf.com/img/22965.jpg

It is the White Hand of Saruman.

Sira grits his teeth. "(Elven) Impossible...how could Saruman's reach break even the thick borders of Mirkwood? It's true that the elves have lost their power here ages ago, but that is because the darkness of the forest made it untameable...well, now we know that these spiders are not territorial, simply trying to clear us out. We're being hunted, actively."

As if to emphasize his point, the group hears another round of skittering from somewhere else in the cavern.

[Prehysterical]

Things were spiraling out of control far too fast for Thrar's comfort. First spiders, then elves, and now wizards... "Lads, if that's the case, then we need to keep moving. The longer we stay in one spot, the more likely it is that we'll get swarmed."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin stares agape for a few moments, as he processes the new information. "Aye- we'd best be movin' and quick! I'm- I'm still as good as ever at playin' rearguard, so let's get on with it!"

The sturdy blonde reaches to the ground to retrieve his crossbow, and takes a few seconds replacing the cartridge again. "Well, what're ya waitin' for?! Let's MOVE!" He ushers his companions away from the sounds of skittering with a series of short waves. Trudging along on his thick legs, he tries to continue keeping track of their surroundings- stealth abandoned, for the moment.

[roll0] perception

[MuffinMan]

As if to emphasize his point, the group hears another round of skittering from somewhere else in the cavern.
At the sound, Harsk scrambles back to his feet and fetches up his spear in a ready position. "Man-eating spiders ain't enough, they gotta be directed man-eating spiders. Phaw!" He punctuates his displeasure with a kick to the spider corpse as he surveys the tunnels in each direction.


"Lads, if that's the case, then we need to keep moving. The longer we stay in one spot, the more likely it is that we'll get swarmed."
"Ya don't have to tell me twice!" Harsk falls into place near the center of the group as they set out again.

[NeoSeraphi]

The group sprints down the tunnel that Thrar selected and does their best to avoid any more detection. However, as their feet touch the earth, they unknowingly send out vibrations that their arachnid pursuers latch on to.

As the elves walk, Dwylin notices streaks of blood on the walls. They seem to stop suddenly against a suspicious looking boulder.

[Farmerbink]

"Oy! Looky 'ere!" Dwylin calls to Thrar and the others to get their attention, before directing it to the wall. "Gotta be some kinda passage back there, yeah? Think we should get outa the main tunnels, or ya think we're safer here?"

[MuffinMan]

Harsk pulls up short and jogs back to his brother, inspecting the suspicious boulder for any sign of tampering or hidden passages. "Lovely..." he growls at the streaks of blood on the wall. "'Ere, let me see..."

[roll0] to check for traps or secret passages. (Including racial +2 from Stonecutting)

If relevant, Knowledge: Dungeoneering [roll1]

[NeoSeraphi]

Harsk discovers a hidden passage simply by pressing an inlet inside the stone. The stone splits apart and reveals a dark tunnel that continues on towards who knows where.

[Prehysterical]

Looking down the tunnel and back at the rest, Thrar says, "I know, I'm not happy about it, either. But this looks like it might actually go somewhere, and somewhere is better than nowhere. Come on!"

[NeoSeraphi]

The group heads into the dark caverns and begins moving at a slow pace. Oddly, the skittering noise has become very distant, hard to hear. It would seem that though this cavern has been home to the spiders for some time, there is no trace of them in this passage. There are no webs, only traces of the same blood that Dwylin saw earlier, on the walls.

There are handprints in blood, it seems that whoever left it was staggering and propping himself against the wall to continue walking.

The group makes their way to the back room, where they find a dead dwarf. Thrar recognizes him as Kitri, son of Kitoran, a warrior who had left the Iron Hills in order to attend some secret meeting at Rivendell some weeks past. Next to the dwarf is a sword which glows with elven runes, and clearly has some kind of magical properties.

[Prehysterical]

Thrar walks forward slowly and kneels down beside the corpse. Though he had not known Kitri that well, the manner of the Dwarf's death was worthy enough of grief. "May Durin welcome you into his halls, son of Kitoran.

It doesn't make any sense. Why was he down here by himself? Where are his kinsmen?"
[roll0]

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin agrees, grudgingly. "Aye, he shouldn't have faced whatever he did, alone. An' if he couldn't defend himself with that glowin' blade, what chance have we got down here?" Clearly distressed, the Inquisitor fingers his crossbow and scans the wall with a distrustful expression.

[roll0]

"Kitri were a good Dwarf. As you say, may he find rest in the halls of Durin. Let's see if he's got a journal or anything, might help us have insight into what he faced..."

[MuffinMan]

Harsk inspects the blood trail as they walk, and Kitri's body when they come upon the unpleasant remains.
Heal [roll0] (untrained) to determine the approximate time/cause of death.
"Shame..." he mutters at the lonely corpse. Retrieving the glowing blade, he holds it up for a moment to inspect it.
Perception [roll1] to help search the room.

Actually I don't think Harsk can use Spellcraft (http://paizo.com/pathfinderRPG/prd/coreRulebook/skills/spellcraft.html#spellcraft) to identify the sword's properties without a spell like detect magic or identify. In case I'm wrong, though: [roll2]

[NeoSeraphi]

The man appears to have bled out due to a large bite mark on his right flank. These are no spider fangs, a much larger beast was responsible for this wound. A large beast that would not appear in this forest, nor anywhere in the Iron Hills. It truly mystifies everyone who looks, even the elves, as to how this dwarf passed away.

The runes on the sword spell out a name, "Ulamog", which Harsk assumes is the name of the weapon itself. Upon closer inspection, Harsk discovers an enchantment on the weapon. It seems that it protects the wielder on its own from arrows and other high speed projectiles.

Ulamog is a +1 keen longsword sized for a Medium creature. While held, it grants the wielder the Deflect Arrows feat (once per round, negate the damage from an incoming ranged weapon attack).

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin listens to his brother's description of the blade with unmasked wonder. "That is a mighty blade, indeed! At the least, we can't let it fall into tha wrong hands! I 'spect Thrar or Kazram oughta carry it for now." With a regretful glance towards Kitri, he mutters, "Wish there were more we coulda done for ya, lad. Rest well, now."

He looks around the small room, to determine their location and best ability to move forward.

[NeoSeraphi]

Dwylin looks around to find a dark room with chains on the walls. The room stinks of flesh and death, and is likely a holding cell of some kind.

To the south is a door, a deliberate, wooden door far below where any tree could have been chopped down to make it. If they followed this path it would lead them deeper into the forest than Thrar intended to go, but if it led to an exit that exit would likely be near their destination rather than far.

[Farmerbink]

With a grunt, Dwylin nods to the obvious door. "Well, hard ta say any of this is natural at this point.... Just wonder exactly what kinda trap we're walkin' inta...."

The blonde Dwarf scowls as he slinks towards the door. With a raised finger for quiet, he places an ear to the seam of the door.

[roll0] (vs DC+5, due to closed door, and all that.)

[Untarr]

Silent since the fight with the spiders, Khazram seems troubled by something, but the ranger's impassive face betray's no more hint as to his thoughts. At the sight of the dead dwarf, his scowl deepens.

Refusing to take the blade, Khazram waves it off to Thrar. "My axe is all I need."

Approaching the door, the dwarf puts his ear against the door and listens for sounds.

[roll0] Perception

[MuffinMan]

Harsk passes the magical blade over to Thrar, suddenly envious of the other's more thorough martial training. "If those spiders are actively hunting down here, I don't think we have much choice - going forward's gotta be better'n stayin put!"

[Prehysterical]

Thrar wants to push the blade away, but he is reminded that the sword Orcrist served Thorin very well. In any case, a blade like this didn't deserve to be stuck in a tomb such as this. Fitting the blade to his belt, he creeps over to Khazram. "Hear anything, lad?"

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram listens through the door. He can hear two distinct voices in the next room. He isn't quite sure what the voices are saying, but can tell they are speaking Goblin.

Khazram informs the others in the room of his discovery.

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin's face blends satisfaction and mourning as Thrar stows the blade in his belt. That matter settled, at least for now, he looks back to the door.

Nodding in acknowledgement of Khazram's statement, the lean (for a Dwarf) huntsman raises his crossbow. "Open 'er quick like, if ya want some holes in them that's speakin' Goblin," he directs his companion.

ready an action to attack something hostile beyond the door.
[roll0] atk
[roll1] (25+, x2)
[roll2] dmg
[roll3] crit bonus
The above assumes point-blank shot, but not coordinated shot

[MuffinMan]

Harsk draws a bomb vial as he steps into position next to his brother, waiting for the signal to lob in the explosive and surprise the goblinoids.
Bomb attack (for surprise round or round 1):

atk [roll0]vs touch, cc [roll1] (20/x2)
dmg [roll2], cdmg [roll3]

EDIT: miss direction (http://paizo.com/pathfinderRPG/prd/coreRulebook/combat.html#throw-splash-weapon), rolled in OOC, was a 2

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 26/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (5 / 6 (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Untarr]

Drawing his axe, Khazram holds up three fingers.

Two fingers...

One finger...

Khazram flings open the door and then dives out of the way of his companions readied weapons.


Open Door
Five foot step to the left or right to unblock line of sight/effect to thingies.

[NeoSeraphi]

The door opens and a barrage of projectiles comes out. The goblins dodge out of the way of the bomb, but the bolt fired by Dwylin finds its mark. The goblins raise their weapons, enraged.

Unless I'm mistaken I think you can only ready a standard action, not a full round action, so only one attack from Dwylin.

You guys surprise the goblins so much that they are going to be treated as last in the initiative count. Everyone can take their actions first.

[Prehysterical]

In such tight quarters, Thrar grudgingly admits that the sword would be a better idea than his hammer. He charges at the nearest goblin, swinging Ulamog.
I'm guessing that Barkskin is still active.
Charging, +2 attack, -2 AC
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

[NeoSeraphi]

Thrar's ferocious swing cuts the goblin in two, and the other creature shrieks in fear and raises his hands in surrender, blabbing manically in his native tongue.

[MuffinMan]

Seeing the only visible foe in the act of surrendering, Harsk relaxes somewhat and draws his battleaxe as he steps forward to confront the remaining goblin, speaking to it in the sharp, staccato goblin tongue:
You there! What are you doing in these tunnels?! How many of you are there?! Speak quickly, if you want to live!!
After relaying the goblin's response, Harsk acts as a translator for any other messages the party wants to relay.

[NeoSeraphi]

The goblin nods quickly. "(Goblin) Yes, yes! I want to live, yes! There are eight more of us down here, yes! We want to find the magic stick, yes! You let me go now, yes?"

[Prehysterical]

Thrar facepalms when Harsk relays the message, careful not to impale himself on the blade held in his hand. He replies in Dwarven, "You promised to let him live? By Durin's beard... Fine, tell him to scurry off before reason triumphs over honor."

[MuffinMan]

"He said somethin about a 'magic stick' - that mean anything to you pointy-ears?" Harsk calls back to the elves. Turning back to the goblin, he relays Thrar's message:
Leave now - as you can see we are very strong! If we see you or your friends again you'll pay with your lives!

[NeoSeraphi]

The goblin doesn't stick around long after that. He rushes in the other direction, deeper into this strange abyss.

The elves glance at each other. "(Elven) A magic stick would likely refer to the staff of a wizard, a being of ancient power that transcends age or mortality. That a wizard might have lost his staff in the dark forest is most troubling, but perhaps these goblins were simply chasing a fool's errand?"

[Untarr]

Khazram's scowl deepens..."The next time we find a goblin, do not give it amnesty. I know these creatures better than any here. I have fought them for a lifetime, they are not to be trusted. Only once the world is rid of goblins and their kin the orcs will we ever know peace."

Folding his arms. "I'm not in a hurry to go mess with some magic wizard stick. Likely the goblins wouldn't know what to do with it anyways. Best to leave such things to be forever lost in the dark."

[Prehysterical]

Thrar turns sharply to face Khazram. "Don't lecture me on how low those crave-crawlers are. I wanted to kill him, too, but we are Durin's Folk and we keep our word. Let that be a lesson on hasty oaths.

As much as I hate to say it, we should try to stop these goblins from getting to that staff. It may not stay lost in the dark if they get their grubby claws on it and I don't want want a goblin sorcerer running around so close to the Lonely Mountain.

That said, I won't sidetrack us on my will alone. What say all of you?"

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin watches the exchange with unmasked suspicion.
[roll0] sense motive to get a read on the green-skinned freak!


"You promised to let him live?"

Dwylin snorts, before responding in Dwarven, as the Goblin begs for it's life. "Technically, 'e just implied it..." The inquisitor peers into the darkness as the Goblin scampers off. He raises his crossbow to take aim. "You just say the word, if you don' want 'im talkin, Thrar."

A finger gently rests on the trigger.

if Thrar, or anyone else, really, says to, before the Goblin gets out of sight, pew pew:

[roll1] atk
[roll2] CC (25+, x2)
[roll3] dmg
[roll4] crit bonus

That issue resolved one way or another, Dwylin responds to their leader's final query: "I'd love ta see tha mountain, but if it's as bad as it might be, we may not live ta do it, if they get this stick o' theirs. I'll follow ya one way er another, Thrar."

[MuffinMan]

Harsk's interest is piqued by the mention of the arcane. "A wizard's staff, ya say? Such an artifact might be a great aid to reclaiming Khazad-dûm... We should at least investigate. Maybe we can follow the little bugger..."

[NeoSeraphi]

As the group moves into the hallway proper they see a door to their left, to their right, and forward. The goblin fled forward.

A cursory glance at each door reveals no locks or traps, and no written indication of their contents.

[Untarr]

Maybe we can follow the little bugger..."

Khazram grins.

"Good idea."


[roll0] to track the Goblin through the tunnels.
(7 base, +2 Favored Enemy, +1 Track Class Trait, +2 Underground, +2 Tracker of Society)

Khazram begins to move forward after the goblin.


Khazram hates goblins and thoroughly enjoys killing them. Favored Enemy and all that. Any of you that know anything about him that the idea of killing the goblins anyway would be highly appealing.

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin shrugs as the Goblin disappears down the corridor. "Next time, I guess."

Somewhat eagerly, Dwylin fidgets as the group falls into their regular marching order, him bringing up the rear. "Don't hog 'em all, Khazram," he says to his companion as he starts down the hallway. "I want at least one decent shot afore they're all gone!"

A gleam of excitement flashes across his face as they set out into the newly-found tunnels.

[NeoSeraphi]

The group follows after the goblin through the forward door...

...And immediately regrets their decision, as they come across an enormous wolf, snarling and ready to pounce.

The wolf leaps out at Khaz'ram, attempting to tear the flesh off his bones.

A quick glance around the room reveals it to be a kind of kennel, with many other beasts locked in cages. There are torches lit and hanging on the walls in this room, lighting up the entire area. A single door rests to the south.

Surprise round.

PF rules state you can charge as a standard action if you do not have a full-round action available to you, but you are only allowed to move up to your speed instead of double your speed. Source (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/combat#TOC-Charge).

The dire wolf charges: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Trip check: [roll2]
Wolf initiative: [roll3]

[MuffinMan]

Round 1

"Whoah, Khazram - look out!!" Harsk cries as the wolf charges, but too late to stop it. Hefting his spear, he moves into position to stab at the wolf.

Initiative [roll0]

Move into longspear range and Power attack (using battleaxe if quarters are too tight for longspear: same modifiers):
power attack [roll1] (-1 power)
cc [roll2] (20/x3)
dmg [roll3]
cdmg [roll4]

AoO if applicable:
power attack [roll5] (-1 power)
cc [roll6] (20/x3)
dmg [roll7]
cdmg [roll8]

Harsk, son of Dwalin (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=639292)
M NG Dwarf Alchemist (Trap Breaker), Level 3, Init 2, HP 26/33, Speed 20
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longspear +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Battleaxe / Warhammer +4 (1d8 + 3, x3)
Bomb (2 / 6 used (lvl + Int per day)) +5 (2d6 + 3, x2)
Masterwork Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 8
Condition None

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin, son of Dall (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=644049)
Dwarf Inquisitor 3 (Sanctified Slayer) LG
HP 30 / 30 Speed ft Init 7
AC 15 Fort 5 Ref 5 Will 7
CMB +2 BAB 2
heavy crossbow, repeating +5 (1d10, 19-20, x2)
warhammer +2 (1d8, x3)
Str 10 (0) Dex 17 (3) Con 14 (2) Wis 18 (4) Int 12 (1) Cha 6 (-2)
1st level spells: 3/4 remaining

"Gah!" Dwylin recalls in surprise, even from the back of the group. It doesn't take him long to get his feet under him, however, and crossbow ready to fire. It's a big target, after all.

He releases a bolt with a dull thrum, and eagerly follows its course with his eyes!

[roll0] initiative

[roll1] attack (+1 PBS, +1 coordinated shot)
[roll2] CC (26, x2)
[roll3] damage
[roll4] crit bonus

[Untarr]

Khazram, son of Kumir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=643127)
M NG Dwarf Ranger, Level 3, Init 5, HP 25/39, Speed 20
AC 17, Touch 12, Flat-footed 15, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 5, Will 2, CMB +6, Base Attack Bonus 3
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Great Axe Melee (1d12+4, x3)
+2 atk and +4 dmg vs Goblins Composite Longbow (+2) (60) Ranged (1d8+2, x3)
Worn Cestus (-) Melee (1d4+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt w/ Armored Kilt (+5 Armor, +2 Dex)
Abilities Str 17, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 10
Condition None

"To the dark with you fiend!"

Taking out his axe, the dwarf responds to the wolf's attack in kind.


Move action to draw axe


Power attack

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Prehysterical]

"Khaz!" Thrar storms forward, sword slicing and shield raised to protect Khazram.
Using Bodyguard to grant Khaz AC bonus with AoO.
A: [roll0]
D: [roll1]
C: [roll2]
CD: [roll3]

Nice, another crit!

[NeoSeraphi]

The coordinated efforts of the group brings the wolf down immediately, and Khazram is able to steady himself shakily. He is bleeding from his wound and the damp air down here is likely not the safest to expose an open cut to.

The elves step forward and speak in a strange voice. A singing, lilting tone that no one else recognizes. The animals still in cages all calm down, retreating back to their food bowls and allowing the group to pass.

[Untarr]

"What in the hell is this place? Whose cages are these?"

Khazram looks around for signs of the owner, and more specifically, of goblins.


Perception [roll0] (+11 to spot goblin stuff)

[NeoSeraphi]

The elves glance at each other. "This appears to be a warren of some kind. With this many beasts in tow, we are likely looking at a force of forty goblins or more. That is, if goblins are the ones riding these creatures."

Thrar feels a sinking feeling. If the goblin from before is to be believed, and these goblins are only down here to find a staff, then the worst scenario would be that this warren belongs to orcs. With his party's number, Thrar would be lucky to survive against ten orcs. But forty?!

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin let's out a short guffaw. "Forty Goblins?! Nah, that one wouldn'a ran, if he ha- unless he was going to warn 'em! Blast it, we'd best get moving! I get the feelin' it's 'bout ta get reeeeal cramped, in here!"

"Harsk! Make sure that door ain't trapped, best ta not trust nothin' in 'ere." He watches over his brother's shoulder with the crossbow trained at the door.

[Prehysterical]

While Thrar had confidence in the prowess of his warriors, forty was pushing it just a bit. Looking to the elves, an idea strikes him. "All right, elves, you say that you're good friends with the world and all that. If we, say, let these wolves out of their cages, what would the chances be that they decide to go pay their captors a visit?" His smirk reveals just what he means by "visit".

[NeoSeraphi]

Siri frowns as he glances at his friend. "We do have a spell that awakens the more...primal instincts in a beast," the elf admits after some time, "However, these animals have likely been reared to their domestication from birth. Even if we could enrage them enough to attack their masters, it would likely be to the point where they would attack us as well."

[MuffinMan]

"Harsk! Make sure that door ain't trapped, best ta not trust nothin' in 'ere." He watches over his brother's shoulder with the crossbow trained at the door.

With a nod, Harsk sets to work tapping at each door and feeling about for traps, inwardly kicking himself at letting the first goblin go.

Perception [roll0] to find traps
Disable Device [roll1] to disable any, if found

[NeoSeraphi]

Harsk discovers a trap that is triggered to sound a very loud alarm when the door is opened, likely to send the animals in the room into a frenzy. He is able to skillfully cut the wire that pulls the bell without disturbing anything.

The door opens and the group finds themselves in what appears to be a mess hall. Recently cooked food is sitting on the tables, only just starting to cool. It seems the goblins that were in the mess hall all fled while the group was dealing with the wolf.

Taking a quick look around, the group discovers a small cache that was dropped in the haste. Inside, the contents show what appears to be a map of the warren, a strange looking six-sided dice, and twenty gold pieces.

[Untarr]

Khazram takes a look at the map, trying discern anything useful from its contents. He also checks the room to make sure goblins were in fact the ones eating.


Specifically trying to find out

Where on the map the group currently is.

Where the goblins may have fled to

Any information the goblins have

If there were only goblins in the room

[roll0] Survival
[roll1] Survival
[roll2] Survival
[roll3] Survival

Add an additional +2 for any survival check directly related to goblins.

[NeoSeraphi]

Checking the map, Khaz'ram discovers what appears to be an exit, leading out of Mirkwood only a scant ten leagues from where they were originally planning to exit. An extra day's march, but no more spiders to contend with.

Unfortunately it appears this place is a vast network of rooms with various purposes, hallways and ladders that lead back up into the forest. No way to tell where the goblins would go.

Scanning the room reveals only goblin tracks, as well as a single set of footprints that appear to have been made by a domestic house cat.

[Prehysterical]

Turning to the others, Thrar points out, "All right lads, we've a choice to make. Either we can book it and make up for lost time, or we can stick around and clean up some of these wretches. What say all of you?"

[Farmerbink]

For a moment, Dwylin looks worried. He glances at his brother first, and then Khazram- noting the latter's obvious desire for Goblin blood- and slowly, a smile spreads across his bearded face. Grinning widely, he lets out a slow chuckle.

"Ah, that's a fool's question, if I ever heard one! This might be our best chance to put some holes in the ruddy bastards! I say, we put 'em down like the mangy dogs they are!" He hefts his crossbow meaningfully, keen to put it to good use.

[Untarr]

"Dwylin, help me get this wound bandaged up before we move anywhere..."

[MuffinMan]

Harsk nods in agreement to his brother. "Any goblin or spider we put down is one less ta' be attacking the next group of travelers. Besides, if there's a chance of recovering some wizard's staff, we've got ta investigate - it could be the different between victory and success at Khazad-dûm."

[Untarr]

While the dwarf gets his wounds bandaged....he grumbles a bit "Don't like it. Wizards and magic and all that are dangerous What if the wizard comes looking for it? What is a troop of dwarves doing with a wizard staff? Nothing good in his mind I bet!"

Khazram does not agree, but I myself as a player do agree that it is best to go find this staff.

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin looks up from bandaging his ally with an incredulous look. "Am I hearin' ya right, lad? You don't wan'a lay waste ta these verminous louts?"

[Untarr]

"You know it ain't that." Khazram grumbles. "I just don't want to get in the middle of wizard business." Looking around "and I think anyone that does daft..."

[Prehysterical]

"It ain't about us meddling in wizard business. It's about the gobbos messing about with it. If some Dwarf or Daleling gets hurt as a result of us not doing some housekeeping, Thorin himself would never let me hear the end of it in Durin's Halls!"

We're decided, then. Find which way the vermin went running and we'll stick our blades right up their arses."

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin turns away from his companion with a snicker. He tilts his head to the side as he notices Thrar investigating the die. "Oy, what's 'at, Thrar? Ya think it's magic, somehow?"

Without waiting for an answer, he casts a quick cantrip to be able to see magical auras (detect magic).

[Untarr]

Somewhat sulking while he does so, Khazram begins to follow the tracks of the goblins.


[roll0] To follow the goblin tracks

[MuffinMan]

"Let's see that here-" Harsk moves to examine the dice with his brother, who points out the faint transmutation aura while Harsk searches his memory for anything that might be connected...
Spellcraft [roll0] to identify
Knowledge: Arcana [roll1] if relevant
"Wait for me!" he calls as he hurries to catch up with Khazram. "Next time we find those buggers, I'll just let our blades do the translating!"

[NeoSeraphi]

The group sets off after the goblins, with the elves hesitantly falling in line. After a few minutes and bypassing some locked doors, the group comes to a wide open area. The inside appears to be 60' x 60' in a large circle, like some kind of arena. Standing in the center of the room is an enormous, human-sized goblin with a weapon that looks more like a tree branch than a club. "(Dwarven) Well now. Look what we have here. Guests. And me, without so much as a kettle of tea to offer. Such ungracious hospitality is hardly appropriate in the presence of Dwylin Stonesoul."

With a loud mechanical whir, a large metal plate slides down from the ceiling and slams into the ground behind the group, cutting off the path they came from.

A few goblins emerge from the shadows, grinning hungrily. With their boss, there are six in total.

"Ah, and how rude of me to not introduce myself! My name is Kitchley, son of Kistal," the goblin says, bowing politely. "First of the Dwarven Goblins, and King under the Ered Mithrin."

[Prehysterical]

Trembling with outrage, Thrar growls, "Dwylin, who is this filth that not only knows you, but the Tongue of our ancestors as well?"

[MuffinMan]

Harsk's eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of the massive goblin. Shuffling a bit behind Khazram, he tries to discreetly turn his body to conceal the potion he withdraws from his bandolier, and uncorks...

Hoping Harsk is able to discreetly drink his mutagen (+4 Str) before it all goes down.

If either roll is relevant, Stealth [roll0], Bluff [roll1]

[Farmerbink]

Dwylin starts, unable for a moment to believe his eyes. His mouth works slowly, as he peers inquisitively at the figure. "He.. I- that is... I don' know. 'E obviously knows me, but I'm blind as a bat, as ta how.

...Dwarven Goblins? Yer some kinda half-breed mongrel!?" Enraged by what he hears, Dwylin calls upon his ancestors for guidance. "Forfeður, leiða hendur mínar!"

[roll0] perception, to figure anything out about the thing.
[roll1] know history
[roll2] dungeoneering
[roll3] nature
[roll4] nobility

[roll5] initiative
cast divine favor, in preparation for next round.

[Untarr]

A guttural growl starts in his chest and slowly crescendos into a roar that leaps from his throat.

"ENOUGH TALK. WE CAN QUESTION THE SURVIVORS!"

Khazram raises his bow before anyone can object and fires an arrow at the "goblin king"


[roll0]
[roll1]

Copied from OOC for convenience
(1d20+7)[22] CC

Crit Damage
(1d8+6)[14]
(1d8+6)[14]

[NeoSeraphi]

Khazram fires an arrow aimed directly at the goblin's heart. Thrar knows a killing blow when he sees one and prepares to charge at the lower goblins to clean them up.

However, the larger goblin simply snatches the arrow out of the air, crushing it in his hands. "You have heard tell of the 'Uruk-hai', yes?" he asks nonchalantly, neither he nor his men even raising their weapons. "They are enormous orcs with the cunning and precision of elves. Well, the White Wizard's experiments did not stop there. I am a hobgoblin. I bear all the ferocity of my kin, but the strict military discipline of a dwarf. I do not fight for hunger, or fear, or survival. I fight for honor. For glory. For the love of battle. Just like all of you."

[Prehysterical]

Saruman has been experimenting on Dwarves?! Bury an axe in the bastard's neck! Strangely enough, what the Goblin says calms Thrar enough to say,

"Saruman has twisted you in the mind. Dwarves don't fight just to fight. We fight for family, for our kin. If you have a shred of Durin in you, you'll let us pass."
Don't seriously expect this to work, but roleplaying.
[roll0]

[NeoSeraphi]

Kitchley chuckles. "But of course, brother." He smiles wide with a mouthful of yellow teeth. Their sharp ends denote them all as canines, and it is clear to everyone that he, just like his kin, is a pure carnivore.

The goblin turns to his smaller warriors. "(Goblin) Stand down. They are not for eating."

The goblins look sullen, but they obediently slink away.

Kitchley turns his attention back to the group. "I wonder though, if you might indulge your host a simple question before you leave. If you have not come down here for The Staff of Grey, then what brings you to these tunnels in the first place?"

His words seem polite enough, but the territorial tone of his voice makes it clear: his hospitality will immediately end if he has any reason to think they've come for the staff.

[Prehysterical]

[roll0]
Thrar decides to answer with the truth... at least part of it. "We were trapped in a spider tunnel and came upon this place. We felt it our duty to drive out any Goblins that dwell so close to the Lonely Mountain and our allies in Dale. Surely, you see no problem in that, 'brother'."

[NeoSeraphi]

The hobgoblin nods. "Indeed, I do not. I will forgive the senseless slaughter and hunting of my kin, if only because it allowed me to meet...you."

His eyes shift to Dwylin and he grins unsettlingly.