Ink has been sitting alone with two unconscious companions and Chensica, who has pulled into themselves in their fright and not been responding.

After about an hour there is some coughing and moaning as Calantha and Crom both begin to wake up.

Crom comes to with a jolt. How long has he been out? He starts to sit up, but is stopped by a stabbing pain in his side. He looks down to see most of the arrow shafts have been carefully broken off, but the barbed arrow heads are still lodged in his ribs. They have been tightly bandaged though, to prevent shifting and bleeding. By all means a hasty and temporary measure. That must mean we are still in danger, Crom thinks to himself. 

He starts looking around to assess the situation. He Immediately notes the dead goblin bodies, and then Ink and Chensica.

"Hey thanks for patchin' me up," Crom says to Chensica. She doesn't reply, making Crom uneasy. Concerned, he turns to Ink. "Where are the others?" he asks, tone hushed and urgent. "Ragnarok and Mal, and Calantha?" It's at that moment that he notices the movement from beside him. Relieved, he sees that Calantha is breathing. He places a hand on her forehead to check her for fever, though it seems she may be coming round soon. As he does this, he turns his attention back to Ink, awaiting a reply about Mal and Ragnarok.

Relieved to see that Calantha and Crom have begun to stir, Ink gives each of them a pat on the shoulder and says, "That has been some nasty business. Mal and Ragnarok went off that way..."--Ink points down one of the corridors--"...and enough time has passed to suggest there's a problem."

Calantha coughs and slowly wakes. Her head feels like it's about to split open, and her chest is on fire. Gingerly she massages her sides with her hands and groans. Definitely some broken ribs. Someone had their hand on her forehead. Fearing the goblins are still around, she startles, but it's only Crom. She heaves a huge, relieved sigh when she sees Crom, Ink, and Chensica, although Chensica does not appear to be in a very good state.

"Gods, what happened?" she groans. "What's this about Mal and Ragnarok going off on their own?"

Glancing at the extent of Crom's injuries and feeling the extent of her own, she shakes her head in disbelief. Why would Mal and Raganarok leave them? Surely they knew that separating the group like this was a bad idea. And now neither Calantha nor Crom were in any shape to go after them and learn their fate. 

"Ink, is it possible for your familiar to be stealthy enough to find out what's happened to Ragnarok and Mal without alerting any more goblins to our presence?" 

Crom pulls his hand back, relieved as Calantha stirs, and starts trying to get to his feet. He grits his teeth as he clutches his side, and winces at the long cut along his shoulders, but he manages to stand. He spots his bow and limps over to retrieve it.

"That's a good idea, Calantha. I'm certainly in no shape to be fightin'. Even just drawin' this bow will be torture, but I can't bear the thought of just leaving Mal and Ragnarok behind. If we can find out where they've gone, and if they're ok, without puttin' ourselves at risk, that would be ideal. And while we're at it, if we could find a place to hole up and recover that's a little safer, that'd be grand. Think Master Po is up for it?"

At that moment, his eyes fall on the sleeping bugbear, whom he'd mistaken for a rock in the dim light earlier. He freezes. "What's the situation here?" he asks Ink in a hushed tone.

"We succeeded in subduing this fellow," replies Ink, motioning toward the bugbear. "

Ink then nods at Calantha, "Yes, I can slip off quietly and check on Mal and Rag..."

The gnome taps himself on the head with his staff and whispers to himself, "Slowly and silently, Ink."

He then heads down the corridor, hoping to check up on the other members of the party. (Stealth: 8

1 

Ink crosses the bridge and sneaks around the corner of the tunnel ahead. As he moves along he can hear the goblins ahead, their voices sound raised and angry. 

Peeking around the corner, Ink sees a group of goblins arguing over a pile of things. After a moment of looking he recognizes them as Ragnarok and Mal's belongings.

A wave of panic washes over Ink. He rushes back to Crom and Calantha to relate what he just saw.

Crom buries his face in his hands. 

"That doesn't bode well. Damn, this is all goin' wrong." He sighs and goes silent for a minute, thinking. "Listen, I understand if ye want to get out of here and leave this whole affair far behind. I'd like to as well. But I don't think I can leave without findin' Mal and Ragnarok, or at least... retrievin' their bodies. And the same goes for Gundren and Sildar. I just can't leave until I know. Ya' know?"

He sighs wearily and winces again. "So I'm goin' to stay behind, find a place to rest up, and look for the others. Ink, any idea what's that way?" Crom gestures towards the room where Ink found the chest.

"I'm staying as well," responds Ink. 

"That way..."--he motions toward the room with all the supplies--"...leads to a great deal of goods. More than we can possibly carry. And a chest. I didn't open it. Maybe now's the time to do so, Crom."

Calantha struggles to a sitting position. She can't believe the news about Mal and Ragnarok. How could anything happen to Mal? He was always the one with the winning strategy, and he was a grizzled veteran to boot. If he was really gone, she was going to miss the old bugger. She swallowed a lump in her throat. How did everything go downhill so fast?

"You can count me in," she says finally. "But we do need to recover first. If that room is free of goblins, I say we make for it. It could be a defensible position as well." 

Crom looks from Ink to Calantha and back again, his eyes watering slightly. "Thank you, you two. Together... well we just maybe have a shot o' gettin' through this"

"These goblins have proven fairly tricky so far," Crom notes to Ink. "Mind helpin' me check for any traps rigged up to the chest?" Crom shuffles over to the room to take a look himself. Seeing the chest, he makes his way over and begins inspecting it cautiously to see if it is locked. "Just to be safe, do you have any magic that might help us open this thing from a distance?"

Ink nods, backs a few feet away from the chest and conjures up a mage hand to open the chest...

Calantha shakes her head to clear it. She still feels a bit fuzzy and pretty much everything hurts, but it's starting to get better. She glances over at the wounded bugbear. She thought Crom spoke goblin. Maybe they could somehow convince it to let them retrieve the bodies of their fallen companions, including Gundren and Sildar and leave without further violence? It was a long shot. Or, if the goblins were the sentimental type, they could hold the bugbear hostage and exchange him for their friends. Neither plan seemed to have a high likelihood of success in her opinion, but they had to do something.

"Maybe something in the chest can help us," she says. "Or we can use the bugbear as a trade or persuade him to get his friends to back off. Crom, you speak goblin don't you?" 

"Aye," Crom says, watching Ink work his magic. "Once we've seen what's inside this here chest, I can try having a word with the bugbear, see if he's a reasonable sort, and we can figure things out from there. I would like as little blood shed here as possible"

In this smaller cave a fire still crackles gently as a small flame still lingers over what must have been a very large fire.

Lined against the rear wall are the crates and sacks, and to your left are some bedrolls. 

As Ink opens the chest, the glint of copper shines out. Nothing happens from the chest so you take a closer look and see that it contains a large pile of copper, a good amount of silver, four potion of healing, and a small jade statuette of a frog with tiny golden orbs for eyes. 

After taking some time and counting the money, you count 600 copper and 110 silver.

A bit of gnomish profanity spills from Ink's mouth when he sees the healing potions. He snatches them up and hands two to Crom and two to Calantha. "Negotiating with the goblins might be somewhat easier for us now!"

Crom's eyes light up with hope as he beholds the healing potions. "Thanks, Ink. You're a lifesaver," he says when Ink hands him a potion. He turns to Calantha. "As much as my body feels like it needs a good rest, I think every moment we waste decreases our chances of finding anyone alive, and these potions should get us back in fighting shape. I say we drink up now, and then I might go have a little chat with our new friend over there," he gestures towards the bugbear. "What say you?"

As Calantha's eyes fall on the healing potions, she breathes a sigh of relief. Finally here was something good. She nods her head at Crom and thanks Ink for sharing the potions. 

"Yes, that is a good idea. I'd prefer to avoid more violence if possible, but even if it comes to blows again, at least we have these to help us."

Calantha puts one of the healing potions in her pack and drinks the other one. It has a medicinal, although not entirely unpleasant taste. 

Crom unstoppers his potion and takes a swig, swirling around his mouth to wash out the taste of copper before downing the rest of it. He quickly unwraps his arrow wounds and grabs onto the few remaining inches of each shaft, gently but firmly pulling them out as the magic of the potion gets to work knitting his wounds closed.

6

With a final grunt, the barbed arrow heads come free, and Crom drops them to the ground. "Okay, time to have a chat," he says, walking over to the bugbear with much of his usual poise restored. "Be near, in case this goes south," he says to Calantha. "If he gets aggressive, we can at least have him flanked." He then retrieves his other sword from where he dropped it during the previous scuffle and stands before the bugbear. He kicks its weapon away and keeps his swords out, but relaxed down by his side.

"dalaan ac, A dac duun dach," (Wake up, I want to talk) Crom says in a low, calm voice, though his pace is clearly uneven. He does his best to find polite phrasing, but the goblin tongue was hardly developed with diplomacy in mind.