Ches 14, 1373 (Year of Rogue Dragons)
My name is Tai and I am an apprentice in the Magician’s Guild. I have been dispatched to meet with Mistress Vintra Marktunsel of the Chicane Guild, at the Adventure’s Rest Inn. It appears her spice shipments have been waylaid and the Magician’s Guild does not want its reagent supply interrupted.
Mistress Marktunsel is there along with the infamous Angus Silverblade and his paramour Talia. In the back lurks Bluto Fleetfoot. She greets me and introduces me to the gathering of small folk. Gazlowe Bonkwhistle, a deep gnome and his friend Ser Buckthorn BeyWinn an overly large forest gnome. Ulfgar Hammerfall, a dwarf of the Ironspur Clan and Halorin Poorleaf a Bardic Hin. There was also another boisterous hin, who I believe is a monk, likes his drink and claims he is named after his engorged phallus. Food and drink was enjoyed as we took the feel of each other and then Jinx joined the table, ambling in muttering excuses about being late and nibbling on a Wendy’s nasty Rat on a Stick.
Mistress Marktunsel brings us to the crux of the gathering, it appears some goblins ambushed a caravan of spice and made off with the wagon. She wishes to engage our services to go and retrieve these creates. This is the point where Angus steps in and speaks to also obtaining 2 magically sealed casks. Bluto also has him read some decree about his non-royal lineage. After some back and forth, it appears that the casks are wanted by the Tightpurses and they are killing anyone involved with the casks. Dickering and Details are negotiated and Angus will give us 150 gp for each cask and Mistress Marktunsel will pay 75 gp for each create recovered, there were 12 missing in all. Personally, I am more interested in what is inside the casks than the 300 gp being offered for them.
The next morning we gather together and head north. One thing I am pleased about is with this Band of Ankle-biters, I will always have a clear shot over them, even Jinx barely stands out. So we travel 3 days north to the point in the road where the caravan was ambushed. We then follow the obvious trail of the dragged wagon and after a day it was noticed that there where human footprints as well, but fresher. It seems someone is trying to beat us to the goblins.
So here is the wagon, empty in front of a shaft plunging into the earth and a knotted rope leading into the darkness. We descend down into the darkness for 80 feet and the shaft opens into a strange cavern with a smooth, unnatural stone floor. Two hobgoblins are guarding the back doors as three humans dangle from the ceiling like meat, being bleed out from throat cuts. The Hobgoblins are quickly dispatched and the next door opened upon some more hobgoblins. Here I must note, the damn small folk are easy to shoot over, yes, but they offer very little cover! This point was driven home by an arrow shaft appearing in my chest and a sword in the neck. Lucky for me Halorin is a healer and I will live to see another morning.
The rock floor is not natural; it is not from this plane of existence. There is also demon relief on the pillars and doors. What have the goblins uncovered here?
We regroup and prepare to decide how to proceed when Drunken Phallus throws the doors wide and yells out were here and starts bitching about the tunnel shaft at 5 stunned goblins playing cards. Melee ensues and they are dispatched and we find a room with many creates, three of the ones we seek and one of the casks. The other creates are filled with common goods. A tunnel leads north and south, with the southern one being some sort of latrine and Gazlowe reported movement in there. We decide to leave the feces critter alone and instead open an ornate door with the sign of ‘danger” in goblin written on it. Oh Joy, lots of deadly traps, in which Gazlowe is able to disable a few, but ultimately falls victim to one of the ceiling blades. Halorin to the rescue, again.
It is decided to make camp and rest before heading further in, as Halorin is out of spells and the Demon Tunnels will only get more pleasant? Right…