Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: First Entry
I found a Gnome. She works at the circus. Or worked, I guess?
Let’s go back a bit. The original path I’d set was to head east from Rolgrimmdur to Bellis and then take a boat to the mouth of the sea, but after an hour or two walking in the forest I came to the conclusion that the forest is terrible and I’d rather be on the edge of the mountains. A forest is like the outside of a mountain, except everything is wet and it smells terrible.
I backtracked and headed south on the dividing line between the forest and the river. After a day or so of travel I came across a traveling circus. I thought someone had dropped a carnival prize and picked her up, but she was just taking a nap. She screamed. I did not scream, no matter what she says. I might have startled loudly, but that’s not a scream.
Anyway, after picking up the small one I explained that I was heading down to join the Pathfinder Society. She seemed interested and then left her group? And she followed me?
It certainly wasn’t my intention to have a traveling companion. In fact, I think I’d rather not have one, but she’s still talking to me and has been talking basically nonstop since that point. Do Gnomes need to breathe?
In hindsight, I don’t even know if she told her group she was leaving with me. I hope they don’t think I abducted her.
Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: First REAL Entry
We have work to do.
Master of Scrolls, Kreighton Shane or something, the Master of Spells, Serena Wester, and the Master of Swords, Parhamellus(?) asked us to find someone. There’s this Lechy Fungus person named “Rain in Cloudy Days.” Unusual title, but I shouldn’t be one to talk. They were seen in Cassomir a while back.
The bookish one, Marra the Cleric, went off to the library to research, while the Schmell Goblin, the Frog Druid, the Sparkle Gnome, and I went down to the docks to secure passage. I didn’t get a chance to speak with the Dwarf Captain Payne, sadly, but maybe our paths will cross again. Instead we spent a good chunk of our savings on a fancy ship named the Mimosa. It had railings and safety equipment, but that didn’t stop the small ones from making a concentrated effort to kill themselves.
After making an attempt to solicit attention to their self-destruction (the Sparkle one having her nose bonked in the process), they did eventually succeed in drawing a crowd of sorts – the ship’s crew and safety personnel. The Schmell one has an impressive scream.
I’d like to blame the scream for souring the crew’s impression of us. I asked some of them if they had work to do to keep me busy, and they had me rotate the cannonballs. I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing, but I don’t know well enough to say the contrary. One of them gave me a few copper, perhaps out of pity or maybe it was just annoying in his pocket.
After the death defying act, the Schmell creature lost her wig thing. I guess hair matters as much to goblins as beards do to Dwarves? Maybe? I figured maybe it would be nice to make a new one, though using my own hair would be silly and I don’t have enough beard to make that happen. My backpack, however, could stand to lose a little. The places where I cut the leather will be easy enough to… hide.
For better or worse, though, I found myself in a bit of a fugue state for three days. I hate it when I get into a fugue that long. Reminds me of… him. And it bothers me.
Then I might have botched the delivery a little and made it weird, but that’s my style.
I heard that the Sparkly one got put in the brig for a while for something? I might have noticed the stark drop in syllables in the hallway if I’d managed to give anything else attention. The Schmell one also wanted to say something to the captain. Not sure what that was about.
After we arrived in the Imperial Naval Shipyard we made a bee-line for the Three Legged Dog. The sign out front was a green frog with two legs and some drool making the third. Honestly, the situation made me feel a little funky, but I’m not connecting the dots on it yet. Againis Downer, the innkeeper, said that Roland Downer was the only one to see Rain. We scouted around for information, and I succeeded at failing to make a friend. The expert I found was really adamant that hydras weren’t the biggest threat lurking in the swamp, and that most of the threats were superficial, aside from the insects. Not sure how much I believe it. If it’s anything like the trip through the forest, the biting insects will be the worst part.
I spent the last of the ‘granted’ gold from the Pathfinder Society on the inn. Or I would have spent 0.8 gold, but the Frog one wanted to bring some mud from the lowlands and it seemed mean to housekeeping so I rounded up. Don’t tell my mum.
Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: Second Entry
The Sparkle one made us antidotes for the trip. I’m not one for non-alcoholic beverages, but bless my beard that was refreshing. I’ll make it a point to ask for another some time.
We left Cassomir on an elevated causeway. A sign said it would take us to Hope’s Hollow, but we were not so fortunate. Instead, we headed north to the swamp. A swamp is like a forest, but worse in basically every way. I was thinking about how unpleasant the swamp is when I realized that I should be doing my job of keeping track of direction. I didn’t get us lost — not very lost, at least. The Schmell one made it a point to climb and fall out of trees. After the escapades on the boat, I started to wonder if goblin society was largely tree-dwelling, but they managed to dispel that idea pretty quickly by ungracefully falling into the muck and getting themself bruised up.
Frog picked up on the tracks of our fungal friend and Sparkle, equally helpfully, noticed a patch of quicksand. We went in up to our necks while trying to swim around it, and the frog one, despite being maybe a little taller than me, insisted on swimming around it. When we returned to what could generously be called a path I made a point to be more diligent. Not long thereafter we came across a huge fallen tree. It was hard to believe such a thing was alive at one point. It filled my sight to either side and rose higher than the inn where we’d stayed the night before.
Shmell, unsurprisingly, began to climb immediately. So unbridled was their enthusiasm that they failed to notice these dog-human-ghoul creatures emerge from the top.
I’ve read more horrifying things than I’ve seen, and I always considered my mind’s eye to be fairly lucid in its display of these horrors, but I will confess that these creatures exceeded my expectations.
The Shmell one was most of the way up and made it a point to kick and punch at the festering things while the Sparkle one threw bags of tangling to bind them up. The Frog made a dazzling show of lightning to scorch them off the side of the rock.
I sat useless at the bottom waiting for them to get down. I need to get a crossbow or something.
Sparkle’s tanglefoot maneuver proved rather useful, ultimately, as one of them fell straight off the tree while freeing itself. As it stood I bludgeoned it on the side of the head with my hammer and was thrown for a loop when instead of bashing it away the head came clean off and disintegrated.
Shmell belted the life out of the remaining one as Frog used some kind of spell to freeze it solid. Or ‘almost’ completely solid. I say ‘almost’ because it was still thawed enough to break off at the arm and fall to the ground, covering me in pus. Gross.
When the coast was clear of danger, some lizard creature named Kazuuk reared its head. Not much of the fighting type, I’d guess? Perhaps that’s fitting, because it was a natural runner. They led us back to a collection of tents outside of some moss-covered ruins. It reminded me a bit of the circus where I bumped into Sparkle, but instead of fun and candy there was stench and swamp.
Their leader Thakik was the first to make our introduction. The Kazuuk creature talks as fast as they move and introductions were half-way done by the time I realized what was going on. I was disinclined to trust them, but more pressing matters needed to be addressed before then — notably, the screams coming from the roof of the town center.
I say screams, but I guess ‘commotion’ is a better word. Potato/potato. At the center of the tents stood our soon-to-be-rescued friend, and at the horizon were two enormous Shadow Drakes. They seemed to flutter in and out of being, like when you’re looking at stars in the high mountains at night and they fade behind clouds that you can’t see.
Then one of them spat. Sparkle leapt across me, grabbing my shoulder and giving us both a spin around the edge of the building while I lifted my steel shield to cover the splash of freezing air.
I’ve always found the depths and fire of the mountain forge mines to be far more agreeable than the icy heights. I thought the winds from the mountaintop air were the coldest thing that could exist in this world. Once again, I was wrong.
The splash, even subdued by my shield, left me feeling nothing at first, followed by a painful numb burn akin to the kind you feel when you get a degreasing tincture on your hands and take too long to wash them. The edges of the islands of numbness where there was still sensation, however, told me how truly cold this was.
If you’re thinking Schmell decided to climb the building, you’re right. The Frog one, too. Rain decided that we needed background music, which seemed silly at first but actually seemed rather helpful when we got into it.
I had to pause and wonder what to do.
The drakes were far too far to be bonkable with my hammer. I froze, at least a little. From the freezing breath. I really need to get a crossbow.
Schmell flung some sort of oil bottle at the beast. This seemed ineffectual at the time and I was about to make some sort of quip when she set it on fire and double-kicked it in the head. It was dead before it hit the ground. That was spectacular.
The Sparkle one chugged some kind of concoction, became noticeably larger, and grew claws. She leapt up to the rooftop. That left me, sitting on the ground and sucking my thumb.
This seemed like a good time for heroics, if I could get to the roof at least. I gritted my teeth and leapt, nearly past the other side. I guess it wasn’t quite as high as I thought.
Frog healed us, and we all braced for the second drake to swing by.
When it encroached, I wrapped my hands around the warhammer and swung with a fury that would have made my ancestors proud. The drake, swooping in, was brought to a complete stop. As it fell to the ground below I wanted to think of something witty, but instead all I managed was, “I think its spine shot out its asshole!”
(TK Note: The drakes may have been somewhat smaller than I remember.)
The Rain one, the Kazuuk one, and the Thakik one all seemed to start talking at the same time after that. I was coming off the rush of the fight and didn’t catch too much of their conversation, plus I suddenly became aware of how high off the ground I was. These fears were not well founded because it was a small matter to climb down after all.
I had just finished catching my breath when a small green creature splattered on the stones before me. I thought someone had thrown a rotten apple until the moment it grew into a very unconscious and very bloody Frog. I don’t know what that lot could say to drive someone to leap to their doom, but I’m not surprised they could say it. Sparkle was able to forage in Frog’s bag for a healing kit and stabilize them, but it was a rocky couple of nights of healing. I should see how they’re doing.
The village invited us to dinner, but I was still rather unsettled and wary of them. Living in a place like this detached from society can’t be good for the mind.
Rain had discovered some ruins, a fulfillment of their task and capstone on their Pathfinder story arch. Pun intended. They asked us to join in the exploration, which is not so hard to do, but we still wanted to send word that we’d done our job, too. Or I did, at least. Nobody seemed to have an idea about how we could get word back to the city and I had no idea how I’d be able to find this place again if I were to leave.
I proposed what I thought was an innocuous and agreeable plan — leave a note to be delivered to the city bound if we should fail to return. Easy! Why is this such an objectionable idea?
So I scrounged a flat stone from the marsh and wrote a message in Dwarven. It seemed like a good choice of language because nobody here was likely to read/write it, so they couldn’t be accused of fabricating a message, and it provided a little protection against eavesdropping.
Schmell also was able to procure some parchment from somewhere and started writing a message in Gnoll, or something? I wasn’t paying too much attention. They asked why I was writing in Dwarven and when I explained they looked like I’d grown a second head. “Who would do that?” and it was too complicated to articulate my distrust of the group so I just picked their preferred nemesis. Drow, or something?
That Thakik one didn’t seem overjoyed at the idea of delivering mail, and I didn’t want to press the issue. I’m not diplomatic enough on a good day and they still rub me the wrong way. Kazuuk was more willing to help, especially when I explained they didn’t have to do anything unless we failed to come back.
Finally, after losing the whole morning to a silly task, I decided to regroup with the others. When I got within shouting distance a few motes made their way to my face and stung like embers from a forge. I stopped, noticing the haze that enshrouded where we’d collectively stayed. I don’t know what they did, but I hope nobody’s hurt.
Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: Third Entry
Finally time to get going. Feels like we’d been in this village forever. Rain brought us back through the rolling swamp to the site of the ruins. I did a better job of keeping direction this time, if I do say so myself. Not out of fear of making a fool of myself or anything. Just learning from past mistakes.
Perhaps you’re expecting Schmell to try and climb the trees?
Just kidding. You’re exactly right. They fell immediately. I finally asked if goblins lived in trees. It’s been on my mind for a while. They said no, which I wasn’t expecting at all. Doesn’t make sense, but at the same time it wasn’t something I’d ever read in any book ever, so it does make sense. Why’s this adventuring thing have to be so confusing? Rain says the Garund have “tree goblins”, but I’m not sure if I believe it.
I guess I should mention making a joke about visiting Garund in the fall, but I’m a little annoyed that Frog made a better joke than I did from it. Because visiting in “fall” would be like falling. I was thinking it was funny because fall is such a terrible time to travel. Dang it.
We reached a large raised platform after about two hours of traveling. On the side were some ruined (ha) glyphs, similar to the ones used in modern magic, but a little more rudimentary and a little more ornate. It takes a lot to impress me with stonework and these really weren’t half bad.
I said we should probably rest on the platform before going down but that lot really wanted to get going and so we tested the water with both feet. Damn it to the depths – listening to others like some fool. Inside the first dark room were two levels, separated by a small set of stairs. The first thing I saw was a gaping hole in the wall of the lower portion, then a door on the elevated part.
If you’ve ever been in the chamber and seen a spider in the corner while you’re doing your thing, this was a very similar experience except soiling oneself would not have been as easy to clean up. In the corner, tucked away, was a choker. It was about my side, and looked like a giant harvestman spider, but with tentacles covered in spines, rather than legs. Schmell hit it with a pint of burning oil, which might have put a bit of a strain on attempts to be diplomatic. Frog hit it with a ray of frost and the thing buggered off. (Pun! I am unstoppable!) It went crawling back into the hole in the wall and I really wasn’t inclined to go after it. Frog decided to stand directly in front of the hole, which seemed like a bad idea. I thought maybe I should say something, so I did. “Are you sure you want to stand there?” But Frog was okay with it. Fine, whatever. I checked on the collapsed tunnel and it was, as they say in the biz, “fucked.” Schmell peeked their head into a nearby passage which was lined with doors. Looks like we had our work cut out for us, but that whole thing was interrupted with Frog got grabbed by the head.
I really, really need to buy a crossbow.
Lacking any other options, I ran up and grabbed their legs. I guess I thought the thing would just let go if it suddenly had an extra 200lbs of person thrown on, but neither it nor Frog’s neck gave in. I still feel a little bad about that. We worked really hard to pull off that tentacle, but it flung me away and wrapped another around Frog’s waist. Schmell threw another thing of oil and really showed it we had no interest in being diplomatic any more. That first one was just a warning fireball. The next bottle of burning oil went a bit short, but I give them points for trying.
Finally, Frog escapes. I probably shouldn’t have been standing directly under the thing, but I thought it might be more helpful to land on something soft, rather than the floor. I got quite the bonk from that, and Frog was out cold AGAIN. If I’m not soft, why do I have feelings!? STUPID!
Schmell had the foresight to run over with the second to last healing potion and administer it to Frog to keep them from dying, and then they bolted to safety. That seemed like a good idea. “We should probably retreat!” But the others decided to stay for some silly reason. Grr.
I grabbed a rock and threw it at the wriggly thing. “TAKE THIS!” but the rock went up and came down on my head. This annoyed me maybe a little more than it should have and the next rock I threw led immediately to the beast’s demise, albeit aided by being set on fire by Schmell and getting spored twice by Rain.
We retreated outside to lick our wounds.
The funny part about combat is not many people die in it as you’d expect. A bigger part of the fatalities come afterwards. Schmell tried administering the healing kit. (JC Note: Nat 1 on use. 8/8 on damage.) Something about cauterizing a wound that I didn’t catch before everything was on fire. They did fix the situation by administering their last potion. Good thinking.
We had words with Rain after that. Mostly “fuck” and “you”, but I think perhaps I only said that in my mind. We made it clear that they were free to pursue the ruins, but we were not equipped to help. As annoying as it would be, we’d have to go back to town before re-exploring the area.
Janira Gavix, an instructor, met us at the Three-Legged Frog after our return to Cassomir. They congratulated us on our completion of the mission, and not long thereafter we spoke with Serena Wester who explained they were going to set up a camp at the ruins. I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about this bit. We told the locals that we had no intention of bringing a big group, but we’ll see how well this goes over.
Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: Forth Entry
I got to spend the month loading and unloading ships. Sure, I could do something more mentally fulfilling but honestly after that I just needed to hoist heavy stuff to see if I was still worth my weight in… weight. Schmell got in a bit of hot water for pickpocketing but managed to resolve the situation amicably by punching the other person in the face. I need to look up the definition of ‘amicable’ when I pass by the library.
Oh, I bought a crossbow! It’s most excellent for stabbing things at a great distance. Also bought 100 bolts, which I’m hoping will last long enough for most anything.
Sparkle bought an elixir of life formulation and I couldn’t quite make sense of it which annoys the ever loving piss out of me. Some day I’ll ask her to explain it. Or I will when I have the patience for a week of exposition. She fabricated two, one for herself and one for Frog. Makes sense when they’re our most capable healers.
Rain chartered another ship. A slower one this time. Schmell and Frog found a nice synergy where Schmell would climb the mast, leap off, crater, and get healed by Frog. It was like a jack-hammer made of meat. Reminds me of a time many years ago in the mines when my pickaxe broke and I grabbed a backup chisel out of my pack without really thinking. I was so uselessly weak and bleary with exhaustion I didn’t realize I’d been hitting a wall with a sandwich for the better part of ten minutes. Slap slap slap.
We didn’t spend any time in the city after docking, opting instead to leave immediately for the swamp. In hindsight, the trip from that location to the Pathfinder Guild and back would have been pretty terrible. I’m glad we settled on writing letters.
I won’t bore you with the details of our trip back through the swamp, but suffice it to say Frog was rather convinced at the start of our trip that we should be going in exactly the wrong direction. We fixed that situation and made our way to the camp where Rain instructed the accompanying group to set up shop in the middle of a mire. The tent and assembly sank into the muck immediately. I’m not sure if they noticed.
Our journey through the ruins went differently this time. We went around and headed to the long pathway, staying away from the collapsed section and the holes in the walls. While Frog was busy meticulously checking and marking traps for future explorers, Schmell made it a point to trigger every trap. Every. Single. Trip. They have a deathwish or a flagrant indifference to survival that isn’t distinguishable from a deathwish. They’d make a great dwarf.
Rain found a locked door which I maybe could have picked but instead kicked! Wordplay! Ha! Right, but I kicked down a door to open a chamber where we found a neat +1 short sword with a potency ruin in it, along with two or three vials of stuff. Sparkle juggled the vials a bit, shook them, fiddled, seemingly not doing anything at all scientific before determining they were lesser darkvision and minor healing vials. I’d like to know how that worked.
Schmell got hit by a spear. Again. They started holding on to the spears for later.
The hallway full of traps turned right twice and opened into a huge arena-like room with a pillar in the center. Inscribed on the pillar were glowing green ruins, Azlandi writing from what I could make of it. It turned into a shadow drake when I looked more closely. I killed it with a quick swat of the hammer. No big deal. Or at least I hit it right good, then Schmell punched it to death. I still did a lot, but the fancy kicking business is also pretty impressive.
Then a fucking horrifying thing crept onto the scene.
The moaning is going to keep me up at night, but I did manage to keep it together in the moment. It was like someone wrapped a skeleton in a loose leather bag full of blood and pus. Schmell kicked and punched the ever loving hell out of it as Frog ran down the hallway. Oh, and they threw the spear that used to be in their shoulder at it, which is kinda’ bad ass. I should try that the next time I take a bullet.
The lot of us carried on beating this thing. Sparkle hit it with a lightning bomb which plinked off of it but didn’t break, then a tanglefoot bag. It rushed her and did the horrifying moan again but she kept it together. Schell and I kept it surrounded and traded off hitting it as hard as we could, but it still packed a punch. A quick slash took the grin off my face and I didn’t have a second, smaller grin underneath as backup. I felt like I was losing it and pounded it with the hammer one more time before pounding a potion.
Sparkle tossed a potion to Schmell who quaffed it and in one more smooth motion kicked the beast hard enough to make it explode.
That would be very cool if it weren’t filled with pus like I mentioned above. I’m not sure how the others reacted because I was far too busy retching. This is the second time I’ve been covered in pus this month and it upsets me.
We resurfaced to get some air before delving deeper. Frog was kind enough to heal us all. After we had our fill of light, we dove back down to finish the examination of the area. Rain was back in the original locked room for the entire encounter, I think. They seemed surprised we encountered the horror but were very much intrigued by the gross bits. Fortunately, Frog washed the place down with some fire before Rain sampled any of it. They were disappointed but immediately distracted by the pillar. We copied down the details before they deactivated it.
We went east into the caves. It was unnatural and cold. Caves shouldn’t be this cold. They should be warm and full of lava. There was this strange brown mold which Frog attempted to ID by eating some. Not what I think I’d have done, but it turns out to be some kind of rare frost mold. They packed some away.
Up ahead Schmell found a dusty Aeon stone which I ID’d, and that section looped back to the entryway. Sparkle said that we needed a team name, which I guess is a thing adventuring groups do? “Team Short Cut,” she said, which prompted Frog to turn from a frog into a humanoid form (tragically while sitting on top of Schmell’s head) and say, “TEAM SHORT STACK!”
I guess that sticks.
Thaddius’ Book of Angry Scribbles: Fifth Entry
Marcos Pharobellus (Parabellus? Parabolas?) in his traditional well-armed configuration gave us the briefing. How does a person fight with that much junk on them? Does he just fall onto enemies and hope that one of the swords works? I got distracted.
We have to head north up to Darkmoon Vale to rendezvous with Captain Luna Aldread. (All-dread?) Some prospectors found an entrance to a dwarven cavern south of Droskar’s Crag. I remember hearing about that area from when I was a kid.
My memory is hazy, but the mountain erupted around 4000AR, and to this day Droskar’s Crag spews ash and smoke into the air. I should probably tell the others about the magma and fire – I get the impression they don’t find it as nice as I do.
I haven’t been gone that long but I do miss Five Kings Mountains. It’s a testament to dwarven culture and engineering, taking the messy scattering of ore and transforming it into the machine of creation called Highhelm. A wondrous place inside Emperor’s Peak with gorgeous sprawling tunnels weaving like steel nerves through the mountains themselves.
Droskar’s Crag and the ancient city of Saggorak are closed off from those nerves. Flammable gasses interact badly with candles, not that we use them, but magma or the sparks of pick axes can be enough to set it off.
I’m rambling and waxing nostalgic. In fact, I realize I’m not paying attention again because when I return to reality Schmell is asking Marcos if she can have a sword.
“Prove yourself,” he says.
“Destroy that chair in one blow.”
They pause at this, perhaps because they’re more the type to do lots of little punches rather than one big punch, but fortunately there are other options, like what’s known in some fields as “a gravity assist”. They haul the hefty wooden chair out to the courtyard, climb up out of the balcony just ten or twenty meters from the top before making a running leap and landing squarely on the chair, which exploded into splinters and debris. It made quite the commotion but nobody’s annoyance seemed to exceed the iron defenses of Marcos’ jubilation. He gave Schmell a +1 sword, and they were still conscious enough to accept it.
We wandered down to the docks. I saw a few ships with Pathfinder sigils – one of them was crewed mostly by halflings. They weren’t in a hurry and I wasn’t about to bother anyone busy. “How much for passage?” “Six gold. Leaving in a week.”
I think I meant to say thanks but I had wandered off and then mumbled something which was intended as a thank you but probably just seemed really grumpy. Why do I keep doing that?
Frog got some leads on docks three, seventeen, and eighty five. Eighty five would be the obvious choice if we all wanted to die, so we went with three. Four gold each and we were sailing basically as soon as we were on board. It was a lovely trip right until everything went to hell.
We got attacked by a big swarm of fishy bastards. Frog got ambushed and beaten to within an inch of their life by a Devilfish. Three hefty slaps and a bite from a beak left a lot of blood everywhere, plus a bunch of grabs from the tentacles immobilized Frog. In a moment of brilliance, they launched the thing off of their platform (the ironically named life-boat) and onto the main deck with a gigantic push of magical water.
I came here to kick ass and be witty, and I’m not very witty.
I was expecting the wriggling mass to be much harder to hit, but I got lucky and clocked it twice with two throaty thuds from the hammer. A half-instant later, one of the little Grindulo half-octopus half-goblin things came running past me and I swung my hammer to bash it backwards across the head.
The Devilfish took the opportunity to whack me a bunch of times and bite me. I don’t know if it was the spinning or the beating but that took a lot out of me. “MY BLOOD! IT PUNCHED OUT ALL OF MY BLOOD!”
Meanwhile, Schmell is kicking and throwing darts at these things. They kill two or three while I’m still staggering around. One of them decides that it’s a losing battle and runs away from them up to me, and I decide to try and bash it.
I’m still pretty dizzy, though, so I slip on the blood, keep spinning, and bash it hard enough in the head that it reverses direction, then carry on the swing until it breaks the beak off the Devilfish, then I keep spinning for some reason. I think I realize it’s a stupid operation and it’s probably blood loss that’s making me this daft and wouldn’t you know it the hammer killed another thing how did that happen?
I stop spinning and consider throwing up but there was still work to be done.
Schmell launches more darts, one goes overboard but the other nails a creature that’s assaulting a sea-farer in the side of the head. They probably saved his life, though he still did have a bit of a big hole in ’em afterwards from the half-goblins.
Frog fixed us all up while Schmell went to bother people. We were in pretty sorry shape before the healing, but we made it the rest of the way.
As soon as we made landfall I bought a potion of healing. Four gold for one of these stupid things! Ridiculous, and we STILL had to find our way up the river. I made the journey once before. Only took me a month, but I guess we’re in a hurry. Schmell took the lead on this one, walking past what seemed to me like a bunch of perfectly fine ships and latching on to the first ship that consisted solely of halflings. I should have known. They pestered someone who was in the midst of loading something. That someone turned, yelled, “Captain!” like a youngling running for their mother and climbed up over the railing of the deck. A mistake, since I think goblins have a chase response when prey runs away. They scrambled up after the halfling but ended up falling between the pier and the boat. While helping them out, the beefiest halfling I’ve seen in my days emerged. I might have mistaken them for a malnourished dwarf.
“You’re huge! I’m huge! We should be friends!” They leapt over the edge of the deck and on to the dock. I was in the middle of saying, “Heard some folks have been bothering you,” but trailed off a bit because Schmell clocked him in the face and I don’t think he heard me.
After that it was a long, slow, arduous fight. They traded blows back and forth, Schmell wearing away the captain like the very water he sails wears down shores. He collapsed, to the complete surprise of his entire crew. Frog healed him immediately and as he regained consciousness he said, “one gold each, and if we get attacked you can keep it.”