[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

Bob fires his spell point-blank into the face of his assailant, striking her with maximum force. The ice-rimed features of the twice-frozen goblin begin to crack and ooze.

9 damage

Gabe at bat

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Having not quite adjusted to his new axe's remarkable lack of heft, Gabriel's swing cuts through the air significantly higher than would have been useful.

Conveniently, his target shows a comparable ineptitude with the spear.

The second goblin continues its attempts to finish off the stirge, also unsuccessfully.

The third goblin charges into Gabriel, unsparingly spearing him with her spear.

6 damage

The fourth goblin flanks Gabriel on the left, jamming yet another spear into his ribs.

3 damage, Gabriel HP 21/ Surges 11

Fescue at bat

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Ahem. Yes, well.

Fescue steps away from the determined-to-remain-prone fighter, flanking the headstrong but frosty goblin. The sneak attack drives his dagger through the goblin's throat, and it crumples to the floor.

18 damage, goblin killed.

Argumentus at bat.

M

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Still in no hurry to rush back into the meat grinder, Argumentus patiently waits for the enemy to come to him.

The last remaining stirge lunges for Fescue, who's spent the last few moments liberally transforming nearby creatures into comedy blood fountains. The monster latches onto Fescue's arm, which he begins to slap into the wall violently.

3 damage

Motsognir at bat

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Try as he might, Motsognir couldn't quite line up a chop that wouldn't take Fescue's arm along with it.

An axe-wielding goblin clad in a headdress of bone and feathers is sprinting westward through the hall, but pauses in the doorway. Whatever he was up to, killin' seems to be more important to him.

New round; Bob 19, Goblins 18, Argumentus 17, Motsognir 15, Goblin Skullcleaver 14, Stirge 12, Fescue 12, Gabriel 5

Bob at bat

M

I was speaking idiomatically.

Flames burst from the floor around the doorway. The goblins writhe in the torment of the flames, broiled alive in the endless agony of the — well, it hurts them a little.

6 damage to each goblin in burst. Stirge dodges.

Smoldering slightly, Goblin B does her best to put a spear through the bestirged Fescue — and utterly fails.

Goblin C fails equally at an attempt to stab the hell out of Motsognir.

Goblin D circles behind Gabriel, flanking him. The spearpoint doesn't penetrate his chainmail, but the force of the jab still cracks a rib or two.

6 damage

Argumentus up

How ya doing, buddy?

Realizing that the goblins are not particularly likely to run up and volunteer to be smashed, Argumentus rounds the corner hammer-first.

10 damage

Motsognir up

M

FELIPE NO

Like any athlete, Argumentus is happy to keep up the good fight with the help of a little encouragement. He swings his hammer once again into the nearest goblin, spraying teeth and spittle over all assembled.

8 damage, goblin bloodied

The skull-wearing goblin charges into the fray, swinging his axe into the paladin.

6 damage, Gabriel 18 HP

Having not been dislodged, the stirge continues idly slurping away at Fescue.

Fescue rips the stirge from his arm, then jabs his dagger through its bloated belly while it attempts to regain its perch. It splatters on the floor, unmoving.

5 damage, stirge eliminated

Gabe up

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

Gabriel finally gets the hang of his new weapon, and the goblin (trapped as she is between a cask and a dumb place) is easily dispatched.

13 damage, goblin killed. Gabriel's HP 25 (2)/10

Initiative: Bob 21, Gabriel 17, Fescue 16, Goblin Skullcleaver 10, Goblin Warriors 7, Motsognir 6, Argumentus 3

Bob up

M

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Acrid steam pours out from the skull-clad maniac, and his axe slips toward the ground as the strength ebbs from his limbs.

9 damage, goblin weakened

Gabe up

There's nowhere I can't reach.

As Gabriel swings his axe around toward the goblin leader, the enemy musters enough strength to parry with his own axe. Stymied in his attempt at a crushing blow, Gabriel retreats toward the party.

Fescue darts across the room, flanking Goblin C (though B gives him a spear in the back for his trouble). Lunging at the enemy from behind, he jams his dagger between her shoulders. The goblin howls in agony, but remains upright for the moment.

Sneak attack/Torturous Strike, 19 damage (goblin bloodied)

The effects of Bob's enervating ray still torment the largest of the invaders. His muscles wracked with pain, he can barely lift his axe. The feeble swing he makes at Gabriel is pitiful to see.

Seeing their leader humiliated in such a way, Goblin B enters a tactical retreat. She steps back into the corner, flinging a spare javelin Motsognir's way and grazing him.

3 damage to Soggy

Goblin C realizes she's only a few wounds away from a messy death and decides to make a run for it. Fescue swings at her fleeing back, but she ducks it and disappears back down the northern corridor.

Motsognir up

M

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Soggy lunges across the room, smashing his axe into the increasingly-irritable goblin. The blade thuds deeply into the monster's flesh, but the cry of pain Motsognir expected is reduced to an angry snarl.

8 damage. Argumentus gains +4 to attacks against the Skullcleaver.

Upcoming turns: Argumentus, Bob, Fescue, Gabriel, Skullcleaver, Goblin Warrior, Motsognir

M

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Emboldened by Motsognir's rare effectiveness, Argumentus handily caves in the skullcleaver's ribcage. The battered goblin barely remains upright, leaning on his axe haft to avoid falling on his face.

19 damage on an attack with a +13 to hit jesus H

Upcoming turns: Bob, Fescue, Gabriel, Skullcleaver, Goblin Warrior, Motsognir, Argumentus

I was speaking idiomatically.

The frost strikes the goblin squarely, but she doesn't seem overly concerned about it.

4 damage, goblin slowed

Brushing the ice from her garments, she turns away from the retreating wizard only to have a crossbow bolt fly narrowly past her head. Fescue curses at his unreliable tools.

Upcoming: Gabriel, Skullcleaver, Goblin Warrior, Motsognir, Argumentus, Bob, Fescue

M

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Gabriel steps up to the bedraggled and battered skullcleaver, and casually lops his head off.

12 damage, my precious axe maniac killed before he can do a goddamn thing ;_;

Seeing her leader so easily put down, the remaining spearfighter makes a dash for the exit. Fescue fires at her as she escapes but it's no use.

A WINNER IS YOU. 850 XP (170 XP each). Each PC should have 1105 XP; LEVEL 2

The sounds of battle have finally ended, though the occasional cry of pain echoes through the kobold warrens.

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With a moment to rest and examine his new weapon, Gabriel begins to understand its inherent qualities.

For whatever reason, he also places the elk skull the goblin was wearing on his head. Beyond the novelty of wearing a skull for a hat, nothing remarkable occurs.

Motsognir examines the Skullcleaver's axe and discovers nothing intriguing about the weapon, but the goblin's forearms are wrapped in black iron bracers etched with runes.

What's left of the kitchen is comprised mostly of splintered tables and goblin corpses. Nothing about it is particularly remarkable unless one is in a gustatory mood.

Sheathing his knife, Fescue heaves a sigh at all the bodies around him. "Lads, it's been fun, but you're all a little bloodthirsty for my taste. I think I'll be going my own way from now on. Whatever might be ahead can't be any more dangerous than keeping company with you lot."

Meandering into the north hall, he discovers an intriguing pink diamond left abandoned on the floor. "Don't touch—" shouts a nearby survivor, but it's too late; Fescue clutches the gem and vanishes in a brilliant flash.

The rogue wakes up in a strange and surreal chamber, bare of any detail save a lonely scroll in the corner and exits leading in three direction. There's no obvious source of light in the room, but the walls all glow an unnatural orange.

Despite his odd surroundings, Fescue feels happy; he can't keep the smile off his face. He reaches into his pack for a snack, and finds all his supplies have been replaced by a single juicy mango and an oddly bluish mace. Shrugging, he bites into the fruit and strides boldly forth into the darkness.

My, that was a yummy mango.



What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

Poking around the ruins of the kitchen, Argumentus finds several delicious edibles, giving him the fuel he needs to become uncomfortably energetic.

31 HP/12 surges

After a humiliating attempt to retrieve the bracers for himself, Motsognir resorts to searching for secret doors with his skull. As a consequence, the poorly-constructed wall of mud and clay collapses under the pressure of his cerebral attack. Beyond the shattered section of wall lies a heap of humanoid bones, none of them seeming especially old. A shoddy wooden signpost juts out of the boneheap, reading "Dead Adventurer Storage".

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Bob rifles through the brittle bones, but the dead adventurers have been stripped of all their possessions. One skull, however, retains several gold teeth. Cha-ching!

Gabriel creeps hesitantly out in the hall. The gem that spirited Fescue away is gone, but a fine pink haze still hangs in the air, stinking of strawberries. The corridor continues some 45' to the east, and several kobolds of various sizes block the way to the room full of cots and hammocks visible at the end. The wizened individual in the robe is closest, and as Gabe enters the corridor he becomes visibly startled and darts into a doorway on the north side of the hall. An animated conversation soon emanates from the room he enters, all in the incomprehensible yapping the kobolds consider a language.

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The robed kobold pokes his head out the door. Seeing the dimwitted human taking point, he smiles.

"You!" He points at Argumentus. "You do... good fight. You are strongest and best. Now get best good prize. Get candy! You follow me, get plenty candy."

He ducks back into the northside door.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Argumentus follows the elder kobold into the northern chamber. The entire area is a slaughterhouse; the bodies of goblins and kobolds alike lay scattered about the room. A tallish kobold clad in leather regards Argumentus skeptically.

"You there. Listen well. To the east, beyond our shattered gate, lie ancient stairs. Fearsome monsters dwell below, guarding a fine and wondrous chalice of jade. With this, the powerful Chalice of Maguffin, we may repel our enemies and, at last, find a way of escape from this miserable labyrinth."

He hesitates, and confers for a moment with the elderly individual before addressing Argumentus again.

"Also, the chalice is full of delicious candy. But you must hurry, should you wish the candy for yourself. You are not the first I have sent to a delicious fate, and others will surely wish to keep the scrumptious flavors to themselves."

He then gestures wildly to a doorway on the east wall, while his advisor pantomimes vigorous eating motions.

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The kobold leader's genial expression goes cold as Bob begins haggling with him, and at the threat of violence his face twists into a grimace.

"Perhaps you misunderstand. The chalice, you see, would allow all of us to escape this miserable hole. This includes you. Retrieving it, therefore, would seem to be in your best interest."

He confers with his aide for a moment, then sighs.

"Bribes. Okay, yeah, let's see here."

He rummages around in his pockets for a moment, and then—

"Behold!" he shouts, brandishing forth a small white stick. "The Eternal Chalk! This fabulous chalk shall never wear down, in all of eternity. Forever shall this chalk endure, for no matter how much it may write it remains undiminished!"

He drops the stick of Eternal Chalk in Bob's hand, and shrugs. "That's about it for our stores of fabulous treasure, big guy. Waiting around for some goon to bring us a fancy cup isn't precisely making us rich."

I was speaking idiomatically.

"Well, we don't exactly have an accurate accounting of the dungeon's denizens. There is what you might call a recurring problem where we send somebody down to make a list, and they never come back. I mean, we know about the goblins but this is only due to their persistent refusal to stay down there where they belong.

Most of the, ah, helpful individuals that have passed through in the last week are probably still in one piece, if that's any use to you. A band of orcs and their hunting dogs, and then a couple days ago a particularly incomprehensible halfling woman. None of them were much more polite than your friend the elf here."

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

"Truth be told, we're a little bit hazy on the details of the chalice ourselves. Obviously we've never seen the damn thing in person; how are we supposed to know? Look, you're getting way too hung up in details. The important thing is that's it's a wonderful, magical chalice, and it will definitely, according to prophecy —"

(he waves a tattered-looking book in your face for a moment)

"— allow us to escape topside. Things are bad, and then we get the cup, and then things will be good! Forever! It hardly matters how it fulfills the prophecy. Maybe it's got a big feck-off bomb in it, that would work. Maybe it like levitates! Maybe it's a portal to the Queen's bedchamber!"

He crosses his arms and scowls.

"There's no sense going into things with a negative attitude!" chirps the younger kobold in the hall. "After all, all the folks we sent downward must have gone somewhere interesting. They can't all have died. Probably. We'd notice the smell, don't you think?"

M

Yeah yeah yeah 34/9

FELIPE NO

The party meanders at length through the shattered gates of the kobold village, trampling over the rubble like so much garbage underfoot. After a brief descent down a flight of distressingly slippery stairs, they arrive in a relatively spacious chamber composed of the some of the shoddiest masonry imaginable. The walls have a very liberal notion of what it means to be perpendicular to the ceiling, and the ceiling for its part has made a regrettable decision to become thoroughly convex. Everything is slightly damp and clammy.

Wide double-doors of rotten wood are on the east and west walls. The western doors hang open into the hall on broken hinges. The east doors, however, are sealed and barred. A single word is written upon the barred doors in large red letters: "DON'T".

The southwest corner of the chamber is cluttered with a mixed debris of stone and metal. A halfling woman in chainmail is asleep in the southeast corner, leaning on the wall and gradually drooling on herself.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The west corridor goes on for about 30' before turning sharply south. Faint and flickering light issues from around the corner, as does a muffled growling.

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