Caves of the Kobold Slave Masters

Skritch Perception = 10

Skritch (with a 10) you can see that Rachus is not grievously wounded. He is however, completely mortified. 

"Interlopers!" the strange female goblin cries out.

"Wait no! these are my friends." Rachus replies, and then speaking to you all, "This is... well..."

"...a wedding." Ember completes his sentence with an apologetic smile.

"Strangers are forbidden here." the goblin matron says in a sharp hiss.

“Uhhh huh.  Well.  You do you, Rachus.  But I mean, she’s kind of a looker, if you know what I mean.  I just hope she doesn’t break… stab?  Your heart.”  Vakas begins slowly backing his way out, feeling that he is intruding and wanting to be anywhere but here.  

Skritch pretty much gets it. Pretty much. A 'wedding', as he understands it, is a bonding ceremony such as folks might do before going off to a quiet corner of the hutch and getting jiggy with it (a very respectful and sensitive term for the Ekorre). 

From where he sits astride Sunhill, Skritch he looks up at Vakas, Thanadol and Dealuri, taking his cues from them as to whether they should go or stay. Or if anyone has brought a  traditional getting-jiggy-with-it gift that he could go in on? 

Oh, that is so sweet! exclaims Dealuri. She digs around her bag quickly and says, Oh, drat, We will need to get you gift. Can you wait a bit? What do you think you need? Some chainmail? A nice sword? Any color preference? Um, maybe skin color to go with your lack-of-apparel theme? She waits for a second or two before turning to depart. As she skips off, she yells back, No worries, we will get you two love birds something special! 

Taking the lead from Vakas and Dealuri you all give the newly weds a little privacy to complete their ceremony and it is not long before you are joined by the blushing couple, thankfully now fully clothed. 

"I erm... sorry about that." Rachus offers.

"The matron sensed we had er... bonded." Ember explains, "...and she insisted we make it official straight away."

"It's a goblin thing." Rachus grins, reaching out to hold Embers hand, he looks serious then, "I am sorry but, we will not be coming with you to the Kobold caves. The matron insists that we remain and advise our people as they march north to face the kobold army."

Skritch hadn't realised that, on the Prime Material, them getting JWI would mean they would all have to part ways.

He runs to Rachus and Ember and, in turn, hugs them around their ankles furiously. 

Then he goes back to Sunhill and concentrates on making sure his saddle straps are sufficiently secure. 

And no, he isn't tearing up. You're tearing up. Shut up, this strap isn't quite.... er, er... shut up. 

Vakas shakes Rachus’s hand, giving him a sly grin.  “Well uh, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do, ya know.  You ole hound.  Go on about your bad self.  Don’tcha worry, we’ve got this handled.  Go on and make mini-Rachii.  Good luck now.”  Vakas slowly backs away, then turns and walks to their next point, glad to be away from the strange situation.  

The goblins give you the final directions to Khokras Tharn, where the kobold are thought to be working on their ritual.

As you take your leave you see that they are now busy breaking camp and preparing for their march north. The residents of the temple will not be fighting the kobold horde alone.

It is late afternoon and you have several more hours of daylight ahead of you.

Vakas make a survival roll as you set out.

Dealuri is a bit overstimulated by the thing they fought in the temple and a naked wedding. She copes by talking. A lot. And loudly. With plenty of hand movements. About nothing and everything.

If someone tries to quiet her down, she complies for about 10 seconds before resuming her earlier levels of excitement. This goes on for about one hour before she gets it out of system. At least she is able to walk with the group while running her mouth, happy to follow Vakas and Skritch and Thanadol. 

Skritch rides alongside Dealuri, letting her talk it out, nodding in agreement where best he thinks it will help. 

Vakas survival roll : 19

Vakas turns and looks at Dealuri, an odd smile on his face, occasionally with a chuckle under his breath.  He finds her nervous speech cute and like Skritch, encourages her from time to time, to get it all out, in the open and over.  He takes up their path and begins to lead them forward, on guard for what lies ahead.  

Vakas (with a 19) the march is uneventful and you find a sheltered spot beneath a rocky overhang. From the instructions the goblins gave you, you should make the entrance to the kobold dungeon before midday the next day. 

Do you all have anything you wish to accomplish before your evenings rest?

OOC: FYI I am in Germany until Wednesday evening so no posts from me until midweek :)

Skritch will do a quick patrol around on Sunhill, making sure he feels they're secure. Then he'll come back to the now reduced group.

He casts Goodberry and dishes 'em out like candy (expecting to get the spell slot back after a long rest...).

Vakas takes a goodberry and eats it with gratitude, then makes ready to get a long rest after such a strange day.  

Dealuri appreciates everyone's indulgence as well as the Goodberry. She occasionally realizes that she can be a bit much so just sits in the corner and tries to behave herself. She will volunteer to take any night-watch-shift. 

"Everything you do is just a bit easier, more instinctive, more satisfying. It is as though you had suddenly developed keen senses and instincts." As you wake you all level up. Welcome to level 4.

The morning air in the Blasted Wastelands doesn't bring warmth, only a shift from freezing stillness to a suffocating, sulphurous grey. As the party stir from your bedrolls, the crunch of obsidian grit beneath you serves as a harsh wake-up call, a reminder that they are miles from any hospitable hearth. Just as the first rations are being broken, the sky, a bruised canvas of charcoal clouds, finally gives way. It doesn't start with a gentle drizzle; instead, a heavy, rhythmic rain begins to pelt the cracked earth, smelling faintly of ozone and old ash. The downpour hisses as it hits the dying embers of the watch-fire, turning the camp into a landscape of rising steam and mud that clings to your boots.

Your morning trek turns into a gruelling slog through a geography that seems actively hostile to life. With hoods pulled low against the rain, the party navigates jagged ravines and fields of petrified trees that whistle eerily in the wind. By midday, the jagged silhouette of Khokras Tharn pierces the horizon ahead like a crown of scorched stone. The closer you draw, the more the rain seems to turn to a dark, oily sludge.

As you crest the final ridge overlooking the primary gate, the party dropped into a low crouch. Below you, the massive stone archway of the lair is slick with grime, but it isn't the architecture that halts your breath. Slumping in the centre of the entrance is a Barghest the size of a draft horse, its fur matted into wet, thorny clumps and its eyes glowing with a hateful, blue fire that cuts through the gloom. It sniffs the damp air, its elongated maw dripping saliva as it keeps a silent, predatory watch over the path ahead.

(OOC - Woohoo for Lvl 4. Also  OOC: Ruh rohh... for Barghest!) 

From where they're hiding, Skritch spies on the hideous and hateful creature. It is a fey aberration of the most despicable kind, full of spite and grumpiness. All because once upon a time some fey god failed to honour its side of a bargain. Ridiculous. Why would anyone think a fey creature could be relied on to honour a deal? That requires a lot of attention to detail. So much. Too much. 

Skritch telepaths his worthy comrades, "Shall we just charge it? We should, er, charge it, right?"  

He tightens his little paws on Sunhill's reins. 

Vakas is a little more stealthy now and seems to blend into the shadows when you aren't looking directly at him.  He looks over at Skritch when he receives the message in his mind.  He sends a message back saying, "I think we should find cover and take a few shots at this thing before it can reach us.  We may be able to take it out before it can reach us... although things never go as simple as planned.  What's that old saying?  "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."  Isn't that right?"

Skritch has not heard that saying before. Must be a prime material thing. But it does seem vee similar to one from home, "Every one has a plan until they grab your nuts." 

So he nods at Vakas and readies a Starry Wisp to loose on Vakas' go signal. (Skritch knows the damage won't be quite as good as from a fire bolt, but he figures that it'll be radiant damage which... might(?) be helpful. Also it'll make them glow and be unable to go invisible for a round, which also might help.) 

He looks to each side to see if Dealuri and Thanadol are locked and loaded*. 

* - "Locked and loaded" is a traditional Ratatoskr term. It means that your mane is well groomed in case you meet someone new you need to impress - and that your cheeks are stuffed with plenty of acorn cud to tide you through possibly missing several meals. In other words, so that you will be ready for anything.