Fiery exit

Rushing toward the closing door, Vogir grabs at the handle. Unfortunately the Hobgoblin on the other side proves to be too strong.
It takes several heavy blows from Egil’s sword to smash it down but before he can charge in, Zahig steps into the breach and summons up a floating ball of fire.
With nowhere to run, Hobgoblin after hobgoblin are horribly burned.
Seeing his cause lost, the War chief tries to dispatch Daelagor but he’s stymied by the heroic efforts of Bayern and Egil.
After a few healing words are uttered by the Dwarven cleric, Daelagor wakes in the dim light to the smell of burning flesh.

Bars of frustration

Firing arrow after arrow at the Hobgoblin slavers from behind the safety of the portcullis, Vogir shouts for the others to advance.
The Hobgoblins are clever though and (dragging Daelagor behind them) flee from Vogir's line of fire towards a side room.
Running up as quickly as they're able, Egil and Bayern struggle with the metal portcullis until Vogir drops his bow to aid them.
Slowly the bars bend apart until even the Dwarf can slip through.
It’s too late however.
The Hobgoblins have made it to the next chamber.

Safety in Numbers

Vogir sits in the tavern with his three surviving comrades. Food and ale cover the table as they plan their next move.
“Iron Tooth and his Kobolds were more vicious than I’d imagined. Without Egil or Ghanash to stand behind, we were barely a match for them. I suspect it’ll be much worse if we face Kalarel’s forces in the keep without a suitable replacement for Argent.”
Daelagor and Bayern say nothing but Zahig interrupts.
“What happened to Egil? He seemed keen to help us; perhaps he will again?”
Bayern leans in, “He was a useful shield true, but we could still use a couple more.”
It’s Daelagor who finishes the conversation.
“Do they need to be warriors?”

In the Shadow of the Keep

As Daelagor heads out of the kobold lair he hands the chain mail over to Bayern. Obviously of Dwarven origin, though not limited for use by such, the cleric would be best placed to identify it. Daelagor continues on to Irontooth's body.

Bayern carefully turns the mail over through his hands. It is of outstanding quality - any fighter would be proud to wear it. The beautiful finish is more than skin deep, however. Bayern recognises that the armour would grant perpetual bonuses to AC (+1) and Endurance (+1) and would also allow the wearer to regain health once per day (spend a healing surge as a free action).

As Daelagor stoops to search Irontooth, Zahig's young voice peals out from behind him "I've already done that." In deference to this interruption, Daelagor continues anyway but finds nothing of interest. "Told you." jokes Zahig "Aside from his axe and armour all he had were this silver key and letter. Have you any idea what a goblin could possibly want to have kept locked?!" he adds, insightfully.

"Most likely the treasure chest I managed to pick - the key looks to be of appropriate shape and size. Be assured that all it contained was the armour, now in the hands of our dwarven companion. Let us rejoin the others and then you can tell us what is on this letter..."

The group reconvene near Argent's body. Bayern performs what he considers to be the appropriate rites for a fallen warrior, and a funeral pyre is lit. Vogir breaks the silence: "He had this bottle of wine in his pack. It's a good one; carefully wrapped. I guess he was saving it for something. Let us drink it in his honour."

As the bottle is emptied and the fire burns low, Daelagor turns to Zahig. "Tell us about the letter you found on Irontooth."

Zahig unfurls the curl of paper and reads "My spy in Winterhaven suggests we keep an eye out for visitors to the area. It probably does not matter; in just a few more days, I'll completely open the rift. Then Winterhaven's people will serve as food for all those Lord Orcus sends to do my bidding. It's signed 'Kalarel'."

The party decide to return to Winterhaven, now certain that this Kalarel - whoever, or whatever it is - must reside in the Keep. It seems obvious that unless they act soon Winterhaven will be overrun with unspeakable horrors from the Shadowfell.

*You are all back in Winterhaven and it is mid-evening on the same day that you attacked the kobold lair. What would you like to do?*

When Kobolds Die

The last shuriken had just left his hand towards Irontooth when Daelagor already started to move towards the cave entrance again. He takes his eyes off Irontooth as he can see him going down. The boy should be capable to finish him off completely in case he is still alive.
Shuriken and longsword ready Daelagor stepped back into the cave ready for the next attack. Looking around the empty entrance area he slowed down and started to listen. Kobolds are shady characters and some might still be hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike. Daelagors senses worked overtime. Only the sound of Zahig outside who tried to revive Vogir and the dwarf! Judging by the number of blows the body of the Dragonborn took Daelagor would guess it would take more than a few healing words to get him back.

He started to move towards the opening on the right. Using all shadows Daelagor moved through the chambers always ready to attack whatever might still be lurking there. He could not hear the others behind him. He shook his head. Mourning the dead within a battle was a character flaw that had cost many good people their life. Normally by the hand of Daelagor who considered an enemy's glance towards a fallen friend a perfect opportunity to strike.

He had reached the last chamber in the north eastern corner in the back of the cave without encountering a single creature or threat. Also this last chamber was empty except for a pile of gold coins in one corner with a wooden chest on top. Daelagor relaxed a bit and sheathed his sword after poking the pile of gold to make sure there is nothing hidden underneath. He looked at the chest: It was a sturdy wooden chest with a standard metal lock. He hunkered down next to the chest and after searching for traps around the chest took out a few small metal items. He wasn't proud that it took him 30 seconds until he heard the click he was waiting for. Still cautious he opened the lid and looked inside. Opening the lid fully and taking out the content, he looked at the chainmail. It was of exceptional quality and from the looks of it it was of Dwarfen origin.

Within a split second he was on his feet next to the wall and had the shuriken in his hand. The footsteps came closer and Daelagor relaxed again. He could clearly make out the different walking patterns of his three companions. He stored the shuriken again under his cloak, took the chainmail and started walking. He met the others in the small corridor.
"The area is save, no more Kobolds left. I've already checked the caves. And Mr. Dwarf consider yourself lucky, your god seems to be in a giving mood today".
He tosses the chainmail towards Beyern who catches it. Passing the others on his way out he points towards the chamber behind him.
"The Kobolds also left us some money to cover our expenses..."
With these words Daelagor walks towards the cave entrance.

[OFF GAME]
You can see 420gp of gold coins in the pile with an empty chest on top. Right now you are standing in the corridor towards that chamber and Daelagor was inside the cave for 2mins before you caught up. What are you doing? Please say what you are doing in the comments to continue with the story. Daelagor already is on his way out of the cave with all weapons sheathed.
[/OFF GAME]

Death of a Racist

Vogir blinks up at Zahig. “I’m alive?”
Zahig’s blanched face reflects his own surprise regarding the situation.
Struggling to his feet, Vogir feels the tightness of the field dressing binding his stomach…
The iron-toothed leader of the Kobolds had opened him up.
His memories are jumbled but he can still see the moments when Argent and Bayern fell.
Can it be that he owes his life to the child Wizard and the Eladrin tourist?
The Kobolds lie dead or dying all around him. Bayern is saying a prayer to his God and Daelagor is heading into the undefended caves.
Of his group, only the blue-scaled Argent lies dead.
They were lucky to only lose one member of this group of adventurers…
This group of friends…
His group of friends.
Vogir stands with the cold realisation that he’d stood back to back with the Dragon born. That he’d refused to leave him undefended. When the Dwarven War priest had fallen, Vogir had stood over his prone body rather than flee and save his own life.
With a sinking feeling, Vogir realises that somehow, somewhere along the line, these ‘monsters’ have become his friends.

When Kobolds Attack

Having dispatched the last of the kobold guards - not least the tenacious Dragonshield who would not wilfully leave the magic circle - Argent walks up to the waterfall, pokes his head through, and immediately jumps back aghast! From the other side of the cascade, the kobolds, already forewarned by the Slinger, are spurred into action by the large goblin, Irontooth. "Attack them! Orcus will have much blood this day!"

Ten Minions, three Dragonshields, three Skirmishers, a Slinger, a Wyrmpriest, and Irontooth himself all lunge forward, throwing themselves through the waterfall and surrounding Argent and Zahig. Realising that discretion is the better part of valour, Zahig retreats and the kobolds swarm further to flank Argent and Vogir.

Cutting around themselves, Argent and Vogir manage to thin the crowd of Minions while Zahig and Bayern support their attempts and Daelagor begins to sneak around the back of the kobold lair. Alas, the weight of numbers tells against Argent and he is felled by overwhelming blows from Irontooth's battle axe, the Skirmisher's spears, and the Dragontooth swords.

In an effort to save Argent, Zahig and Bayern combine forces. Zahig creates a huge ball of fire which clears a path through to Argent which the Cleric takes, and he manages to stabilise and revive the fallen Barbarian. Still with the upper hand, however, the surrounding kobolds attack again and knock the prone Dragonborn unconscious once more.

In a bid to save his fallen comrade from a final death blow, Bayern stands over him - protecting him - but is himself ruthlessly brought down by the mob. Vogir too leaps to put himself between the kobolds and his dying comrades. Fighting valiantly, he and Zahig manage to kill the majority of the Kobolds; but Irontooth and a Dragonshield finally overwhelm him. Vogir crumples to the mound already comprising Argent and Bayern.

Daelagor maneouvres his way around the back of the Wyrmpriest and sneakily strikes him from behind. Clutching desperately at any opportunity to send a death sacrifice to his Demon Lord, however, the kobold ignores his attacker and instead unleashes an orb of reh hot fire at the prone Argent. Whilst an unlikely shot, he makes it. Trying to staunch their own wounds, Vogir and Bayern hear the Dragonborn sigh softly as he slips into Oblivion; "Killed by Kobolds... I shall wait by the gates of Hell itself to have my revenge... Rawr..."

Irontooth and the one remaining Dragonshield fling themselves at Zahig who defends himself effectively with his armour of blades and his blazing fireball. The Dragonshield is soon incinerated, but Irontooth shows no sign of stopping - in fact he seems to have become stronger and entered a blood-maddened state.

Dalaegor finally gains the upper hand against the Wyrmpriest - stealth and finesse eventually winning out against magic. He turns his attention to the beleaguered Zahig, and sending off a flurry of shurikens, drops Irontooth finally to the ground. Clutching a crude tattoo in the form of a ram's head on his charred and smouldering arm, Irontooth screams in defiance "KALAREL, PREPARE MY WAY THROUGH THE PORTAL! ORCUS, MY SOUL COMES TO MEET THEE!" and tumbles to the ground - fire still burning his clothing and flesh.

In anger and revenge the young magician stamps on the dead goblin's head - smashing the face into a bloody mess of bone and ligament. He wrenches the iron tooth that gave the goblin his name from his jaw and looks at it ruefully. The tooth symbolises a reward of 100gp from Lord Padraig, back in Winterhaven.

As Daelagor stalks silently off into the lair and Bayern and Vogir come round, Zahig sighs out loud.

"100gp. No consolation for the loss of a friend..."

Together again for the last time

How much does Bayern?

Scale may be odd...

Enlightened Altruism

The vaporous Necrotic creature dissipates in the hiss and mist of the evaporating Holy water.
It was a desperate gamble that Vogir had thought doomed to failure.
Still, it had worked and as he’d hoped the mindless zombies, without a controlling force, had instantly lost all sense of purpose.
Some collapsed where they stood, while others shuffled back to where they’d come.
Looking around, Vogir struggles to rationalise his own recent behaviour.
Although, initially just trying to save the young Wizard: Zahig, he’d actually gone out of his way to help Ganash and the other monsters.
He was even grateful for Bayern’s support.
True, he’d fought to save his own skin, but he had to admit a grudging feeling of respect.
As for the others…
The buffoonish new Dragon-born arrival seems to be an embarrassment to the heroic Ganash and the Fey ‘tourist’ still leaves a feeling of unease deep in his stomach.

Quick and clean

The goblin had just run around a corner when the dagger hit his throat. Daelagor stepped swiftly out of the shadows of the tree to drag the dead body off the path. Cleaning and sheathing his dagger, he looked at the body. He couldn't believe that those creatures managed to hide from him. He kneeled down and looked at the armour and the anatomy of the body. He had problems getting through their armour in the fight. This would not happen again.

He started to make his way back to the group. They really had decided to let this goblin get away! A creature that is not to be trusted and has information about group composition, fighting styles and even intentions. You don't let an opponent get away with that type of knowledge. The human Vogir seemed to be the only one who understood what had to be done, but that may be more down to his distrust towards anything non-human than to strategic thinking.
Daelagor wasn't sure yet about the members of the group. The human sorcerer might look weak but controls powerful magic and is a force to be reckoned with. But with his eagerness he might get killed in the heat of a battle soon if he's not careful. Also Ghanash would be dead if it wouldn't be for the cleric to save his life. His tendency to proudly run straight into a fight is his weakness. Sometimes a more indirect approach is the better choice!
All of them have potential and can be valuable allies in a fight. But they also had weaknesses which could get them killed soon. Until he can pick up on the track of the drow again, following this group seems like a good choice. He can learn about dragonborn and magic users and as long as they accept those jobs he shouldn't run out of training opportunites anytime soon.

First Impressions

Ghanash found a moment of calm to reflect back across the last couple of days. The elf-thing and human he'd fought had been joined by another - very young - human and now a dwarf. A strange collection of individuals to be sure, but each with unique talents. He wondered if they would have the makings of the new tribe he'd been trying to forge all this time...

Ghanash realised that didn't have much in common with the elf, who seemed to prefer striking individually and from the shadows. Personally, he couldn't see the honour in that - but he couldn't argue against it from a tactical point of view.

The human he'd fought outside the inn - called 'Vulgar' wasn't he?! - had been a surprise. He certainly hadn't used any of those powers against Ghanash. Just as well really - if he had done then Ghanash would have seen him as a genuine threat and at such close range probably would have ended up killing the man. That would have been a waste.

Also, who'd have known that the inn's dogsbody would be host to such arcane power. The young boy also showed courage - or was it naivety? - in his attacks against the strange undead creatures they'd met in the abandoned church. It would be interesting to see how this impetuous boy would react in future, though. A brush with death can be a hard lesson to learn, but you only needed to learn it once. Ghanash was reminded of his own bravado against the goblins and smiled wryly - OK, maybe you needed to learn it a couple of times...

Finally, Ghanash looked over to the dwarf who was checking on the children's health. He already owed the short hairy man gratitude for saving him against the goblins. He felt that he may, in time, come to relate with Bayern most of all. He faced the enemy with strength and pride, but also had a compassionate side and would come to the aid of his comrades. A healer was always valuable to a clan.

He took a deep breath and called out to the group "The attack has abated for now, my friends, but this may just be the calm before the storm! I would advise that we make good again our defenses - and perhaps Daelagor, you would be kind enough to survey how the ground lies outside...?"

No Way Out

Looking around the derelict church, Vogir can feel the walls closing in.
Goblins and Wolves he can handle but where have these foul Zombies come from?
Killing their ‘Lich-like’ leader seemes to have summoned up additional, untold numbers of them and with the crumbling walls and rotten doors offering only feeble defence, Vogir finds himself ironically looking to the monsters within the walls for help.
Garnish the Dragon-born’s scales have made him thankfully thick skinned.
Fur-face the Dwarf seems to radiate idiotic compassion.
He even has to admit that the gay Elf creature has its uses.
And as for his sole fellow Human… The boy Wizard is more powerful than he realises.
Still, even with these ‘people’ to rely on, Vogir can’t help but eye the spiral stone staircase leading down…