Secret Cow Level (GFF D&D Adventure 6)
 

A maze of twisty little passages, all alike.

Unable to reach a consensus, the Horde drags Delic out of the sewer (it takes some effort to pry his hands off the ladder) and retires to the nearest pub to hash out their next move. After much debate it's decided to settle the matter by drawing a lead at random. Delic, still holding his hands in front of him as if there were a ladder there, is excluded from this process.

Motsognir puts his helmet upside-down in the middle of the table with a thump, nearly spilling several ales (and Bob's fluted glass of Neverwinter ice wine). Bob writes up the popular options on his seemingly-endless supply of filched stationary and puts the folded sheets into the helm.

A blind draw and a brief squabble later, the Horde finds themselves back en route to Freeport — Captain Catos is more than happy to let his personal favorite adventurers tag along on the return trip.

Back in the Pirate Isles, it takes the better part of an afternoon to find Valthrun puttering around in the temple of Ioun's extensive library. Once it's explained to the old sage why the Horde is there, he begins to ramble unstoppably. It's taken some time, evidently, to coax anyone into pursuing his singular ambition.

"The minotaurs beneath Thunderspire Mountain ruled much of this region at one time, but that was centuries ago. A vicious civil war weakened their grip, and from then their hold on the surrounding area collapsed. If any minotaurs yet live in the depths, who can say? That's where you come in.

I'm just an old researcher. I won't ask you to retrieve a magic wand or kill a demon. Just descend into Thunderspire, learn what you can, and come back to me with what you learn. I do ask that you bring some kind of proof you've been down in the old city — I've had problems with charlatans telling fairytales before.

I can't offer you too much in the way of payment, but the high priest has authorized me to dispense something in the realm of 500 gold pieces. Not much between the 5 of you, I realize, but I suspect you'll find plenty of treasure in what's left of Saruun Khel. I have also a handful of ritual books to spare — the library has more than enough copies of certain things, and I'd rather see them in useful hands rather than get a few coppers for them at the Portable Hole.

One last thing — the lot of you have developed a reputation. The top levels of the city have been sparsely repopulated; a handful of wizards evidently managed to get control of some of the old defensive mechanisms. It's only the lower levels that remain unexplored and dangerous. So, please, for everyone's sake, don't just kill everything you see."

Valthrun scratches out a simple map to the mountain. Early the next morning, the Horde catches a ferry to the mainland and hits the road.

4 hours down the trade roads heading inland, the black peak of Thunderspire grows larger and larger on the horizon. Dark clouds cluster around the mountaintop, crackling with lightning on an otherwise sunny day. A massive 50-foot archway is carved from the stone of the mountain; colossal stone minotaurs stand watch on either side of the opening.

The wide passage into the depths seems empty and forgotten for a long while. The broad tunnel leads off into dozens of smaller passages or tiny rooms, but everything seems abandoned. The Horde stumbles upon the occasional rusty dagger or scrap of unreadable parchment, but for the most part it seems no one's been down here in ages.

After a long march further and further into the depths underneath the mountain, Bob's elven ears begin to pick up the faint sound of voices ahead. A little further along, and he sees light spilling out from under a door. At last, some signs of life!

The conversation is incomprehensible to most of the party, but Gordok is able to translate — the folks behind the door are speaking the Goblin tongue, albeit with a certain variance in fluency.

"You sit tight now, little halfling. We caught you fair and square, by my reckoning. How much do you reckon he's worth, Nuk? 10 gold? 20?"

The second voice interjects, struggling with the language but still managing to insert a note of sarcasm.

"I think... worth more. I buy self 50 gold, how you think of this? Then I set self free. Everyone win that—"

The halfling's rebuttal is interrupted by a sharp slap. His voice sounds oddly familiar to Bob and Soggy.

There comes even to kings times of great weariness. Then the gold of the throne is brass, the silk of the palace becomes ragged. The gems in the sparkle without luster like the ice of a dead and frozen lake; the speech of men is as empty as the rattle from the ancient Buckwalt creature (long dead from its own stupidity, attempting to mate with its self using its head and rectum) and there comes no respite.

Not after cake.

Delic ponders upon this, eyes gaped wide like a fish out of a bucket. They moved around in his head without an understanding of the panorama: men, women, goblins, halflings, repeats of that awful stage show about a foreign high-born serving man in a middle-class house played by a portly man with an accent, events and shadows of events. But like summer shadows they came and went, leaving no trace upon his consciousness, save that of a great mental fatigue.

Cake.

Yet Delic was not tired. There was a longing in him for things beyond himself and beyond the group he traveled with. An unrest stirred in him, and strange, luminous dreams roamed his soul.

He eyed his teammates wearily. How many of them had eaten cake? What will be done with them? How can it be undone and perhaps chiefmost of all - would they want it undone. These were the horrors that he had hoped being left in the sewer would allow him to avoid. But no. These people knew not of the dark, unspeakable struggles of man against pastry. Things that writhed forth from out of time and space, past even the most advanced ideas of differential geometry.

Delic would wait to see what his team would do first. Yes.

All things come to those who refuse the cake.

At the sound of goblin voices, I mentally prepared myself for combat. I had understood very little of what the old sage had told us, catching a few words here and there. I distinctly remember him saying something about "Just kill everything you see" though as I thought at the time it was an odd point of view for an elderly academic to hold. I had assumed that he had been shunned by some other researchers or something and bore a grudge, knowing from personal experience just how dangerous academic rivallries could be. The great which-side-does-buttered-toast-fall debate of my senior year had all but depopulated the theoretical thaumaturgy department, especially once Gorth Manrender had got involved. Quite why an Ogre had been studying theoretical thaumaturgy in the first place I would never learn, his rampage having been ended eventually by an expeditionary force of hired battle mages from the university's Pyrokene Society. Many questioned their choice of the old paper mill as an ambush site, not least old man Bumblefrot who had been storing the fireworks for the graduation ball in there but those society lads were rather hot-headed at the best of time and once called into action there was no stopping them.

I sidled up to the door, staff in hand and motioned for one of the bigger guys (Ideally the one with a shield) to kick it open.

Garr carefully examines the door for traps, but spots nothing. Indeed, the door is even slightly ajar. Security here is, presumably, left up to the remoteness of the locale.

Motsognir, again sick of his comrade's pussyfooting, kicks the door open and bursts into the next room, rushing forward enough to throw his new hammer at nearest thing-speaking-Goblin. "Can't live forever, fuckers!" he shouts, passing his teammates.


let's waste that new daily right away. Situational Advantage.

Soggy kicks the door in, flinging his magic hammer at the first vaguely goblinish thing that enters his line of sight. The hobgoblins in the room are taken by surprise, and the armored guard nearest the door barely has time to turn around before he gets a flying hammer in the teeth. The rest of the hobgoblins scramble for their weapons, but the Horde has a few moments yet to capitalize on their abrupt entry.

17 damage to Hobgoblin Soldier. Until the end of Soggy's next turn, combat advantage grants +4 to damage against the target.

Surprise Round! All 5 of you get one free action (not an entire free turn) before normal initiative begins. Motsognir already used his, obviously, but to good effect — for the duration of the surprise round, all enemies grant combat advantage which, you may notice, combos nicely with the effect granted by Situational Advantage.

:savepoint:Surprise Round: Bob, Garrmondo, Gordok, Delic

Normal Initiative: Hobgoblin Warcaster, Bob, Garrmondo, Gordok, Motsognir, Hobgoblin Soldiers, Delic

Enemy defenses

Hobgoblin Soldier AC 22 (24 if adjacent to another soldier); Fortitude 20, Reflex 18, Will 18
Hobgoblin Warcaster AC 19; Fortitude 15, Reflex 17, Will 16

My wonderful dwarf smashed the door open and entered the fray, flinging his magic hammer in a glorious arc like a true hero of legend. The hobgoblin warriors in the room seemed completely unprepared for combat so I looked to press our advantage, sending a frosty beam streaking towards the two nearest enemies. Operation Kill Everything in Sight was well and truly underway!

Icy rays on two nearest bad doods

Ooh hobgoblins! Gordok liked hobgoblins but business was business. Besides the last time he made friends with unsavory types they had vanished the following day. He'd miss his icy buddies. Hmmm... that memory seemed to give Gordy an idea. Yeah! Yeah! Gordok moves up beside the human.

Move to L5

"HOBGOBLINS!", Delic screams, two octaves too high for his age and gender, "WATCH OUT FOR THE PUMPKIN BOMBS"

Move to M7

Didn't put the defenses in post #7, they're there now. Sorry about that.

Bob thrusts his staff through the doorway over Soggy's head, firing deadly cold at the hobgoblins before they can react. The nearest soldier manages to duck the frigid beam, but the second catches the magic ice right in the legs, freezing him in place as he leaps up from the table.

Icy Rays: 21 damage to Soldier B; immobilized until end of Bob's next turn

A sense of impending triumph suffuses the rest of the Horde, and they charge into the room heedlessly.

The hobgoblin mage in the far end of the room stalks forward, and gestures to Gordok, beckoning him to approach. Not quite so naive as to think a strange hobgoblin will be as benign as his adoptive family, Gordok nonetheless finds his feet dragging him across the floor against his will — right into the mass of armored thugs. Uh-oh.

Force Lure: 12 damage to Gordok; slid 3 squares

:savepoint: Normal Initiative: Bob, Garrmondo, Gordok, Motsognir, Hobgoblin Soldiers, Delic, Hobgoblin Warcaster

Another bloody wizard, showing off cool spells I didn't know. I flung a fireball at him to show my displeasure, thinking that the doorway was probably the safest place to be for now.

Scorching burst at mage

Squeezing past the oaf next to him in the doorway, Delic hurridly moves to assist against the closest hobgoblin.

Move to K5, sword in hand.

Sidling past the first goblin on his way to help the halfling, Motsognir gives Garrmondo an encouraging ass pat.

Move to J6
Commander's Strike - Garrmondo -> goblin A

Gordok didn't appreciate this shit. He decides to saunter away, but not with too much haste.

Move to L5

Thinking about it, he decides to get his powers on.

Screaming loudly, he belts out

"WONDER TWIN POWERS ACTIVATE. FORM OF...4 FOOT LONG SEA CUCUMBER"

Wild Shape into halfling sized Echinoderm

Some call hobgoblins weak to fire
Some say "use ice"
But since Bob used the ice spell prior
He holds with those that favor fire

Scorching Burst: 9 damage to Hobgoblin Warcaster and Soldier C

Garrmondo hacks away at the nearest soldier, trying to get through to Gordok.

Crushing Surge: 12 damage to Soldier A, +1 temp HP

Seeing his position, Gordok declines to wait for rescue and dashes back to his previous position before assuming the most dangerous animal form he can imagine. Sea cucumbers, as everyone knows, release highly toxic chemicals when injured. Who would dare to strike him now?!

AoO from Soldier B: 11 damage to Gordok; slowed, marked. Can only reach K5 due to being slowed.

Soggy quickly circles around the nearest hobgoblin, shoving him back into Garrmondo's ready blade.

Commander's Strike: 12 damage to Soldier A; bloodied

Soldier A swings feebly at Garrmondo before backing up a step toward the safety of his allies.

Soldier B charges in from the side, blocking the corridor in order to protect the warcaster before swinging his flail at Motsognir.

Formation Strike: 8 damage to Soggy

Soldier C moves past to take a swing at Soggy before moving to the relative safety of the side chamber.

Formation Strike: 14 damage to Soggy

With the corridor completely choked, Soldier D decides to attempt to get behind the Horde. Clambering atop the barrels, he crawls along toward the southern doorway.

Delic moves quickly to join the fray, but his vicious slash goes off-target when he's distracted by the sudden appearance of what looks like an unusually large earthworm. Such devilry might fray anyone's nerves.

Delic can't reach K5 since Gordok ended up there due to bein' slow; K6 okay? I am assuming "sword in hand" indicates some desire to attack, but it didn't end up mattering.

Not wishing to be burned again, the warcaster moves to take cover behind the barrels so that Bob cannot see him.

:savepoint: Bob, Garrmondo, Gordok, Motsognir, Hobgoblin Soldiers, Delic, Hobgoblin Warcaster

Although he had cool dragging people around powers, the hobgoblin spellcaster had no stomach for fighting a real wizard and attempted to duck out of sight. Luckily, my years of practice in the combat simulation rooms at college playing EarthQuake 2 had taught me just how to deal with such a situation. Someone hides round a corner, you put away your rail-spell and get out the RL (Rudimentary Fireball Spell Launcher, I guess RFSL was too much of a mouthful) and aim at the floor next to them.

I took a step to the left to get a decent view in front of the barrels but the swirling melee and large casks rather obscured my aim. The mage it seemed was safe after all.

Spotting a sneaky gobling climbing over the barrels trying to flank the lads, I lobbed a fireball up at him, thinking to punish him for his underhanded tactics.

Move left one, flame burst at K8, so as to hit the sneaky goblin and nobody else

Seeing his opprotunity at (mis)adventure, Delic lifts himself up onto one of the casks.

"What ho! I see you also enjoy climbing! Perhaps you'll also enjoy the taste of my steel as it enters your flesh you hermtme'h from Ghuralltatstkaka!"

Move to K8, strike at Hobgoblin (if climb does not count as action)

Soggy stabs the hobgoblin to death.

Bloody Ending on Hobgoblin A [use the one in armor]

22 damage shit yeah

ACTION POINT

Motsognir takes out his sweet axe and smashes the front of the barrell at i7. Hobgoblin B is swept away in a torrent of nasty goblin wine

drunk D&D well see how this gos tomorrow

The giant sea cucumber violently contracts its muscles and jettisons some of its internal organs out of its anus1 at Hobgoblin A.

In a futile attempt of self-preservation the sea cucumber tries to distract the tormentor in front of him. Were this an aquatic situation perhaps the squishy torpedo of blood and guts would be of use. Being not, the mess simply plops to the floor.

Agitation sets in and the sea cucumber faces his not usually disgusted enemy.

http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/005seacucumberroar.jpg

Roar of Terror

proof

Hobgoblin A gets crit by RoT. 16 damage and dazed good.
Hobgoblin B,C,D, and Hobgoblin Warcaster are missed. They still take 5 damage and are dazed until end of next round.
Soggy and Garr both get hit in the audible wave of fury. 11 damage and dazed good.