Game of Chickens

Aggressive Negotiations

Ever try to talk to a kobold? Us neither!!

Podmidor, Quinton the Shadow Monster troll, Rorek and Froderick have closed ranks around the fallen Chickens, whose body lies tangled in a mass of kobold corpses. Quinton, Rorek and Froderick finish off the remaining kobolds as a cry goes up from beyond the fog. The remaining kobolds in the fog pull back as the cry is picked up by more and more of them. In a short amount of time, only the party remains, breathing heavily and surrounded by the bodies of the fallen around them. All becomes quiet. Froderick covers Chickens’ body with kobold corpses, and passes Headsplasher to Rorek. The group then, led by Quinton and Podmidor start slowly making their way through the fog in the general direction of the center of the camp.

Turqeel, on the rim of the crater, hears the cry be taken up among the kobold numbers, and stops to watch them retreat from the fog, and form up into a loose semicircle around the back end of the crater. Their numbers take them around the end of the fog bank extending into their camp, semi-surrounding it. Turqeel notices Cues hidden behind a boulder, also watching the proceedings. The female kobold Turqeel was chasing reaches the rim of the crater, and flees right past where Cues is hiding and off into the woods, unnoticed.

At the end of the fog bank, Quinton stands with Pod close behind him. Rorek and Froderick flank Pod to either side. They stand about 30 yards across from the kobold chief, facing a semicircle of kobolds that extends well around them, and the fog bank. At first no one moves. Then Podmidor yells in his strongest voice, “Surrender or meet your doom!!!” Female kobolds stand with the males, and scaly hands adjust their grip on weapons as the chief responds back, “Yipyap heimlindiene grrrr yelphausen!!” The chief stands tensely with a half dozen kobolds around him in leather armor. A blackened, feather covered kobold stands nearby.

The kobolds number nearly a hundred. They stand silently, appraisingly taking in the party. The chief again yells out “Yipyap heimlindiene grrrr yelphausen!!” Kobold hands tense on weapons, and the party glances at each other. Froderick surveys the scene grimly, while Rorek casually inspects his wounds. The tension (except for Rorek) is palpable.

Podmidor sends Quinton five menacing steps toward the chief. Some of the kobolds eye the troll with fear, and others with doubt. Again, Podmidor yells at them to surrender, that this is their last chance. The kobold chief’s guards close up around him, and the chief steps forward, calling out, “sNarlbrauBARKinsnitch!!!!” and indicates the number surrounding the party. The kobolds…even their women… are tightening hands on weapons, and looking to the chief. Podmidor shouts one more time, “DROP YOUR WEAPONS!!”

The chief stands and stares at Podmidor, his hand/paw raised up, holding back the press who is by now clamoring to be let loose to overwhelm the party. The chief looks to a female and shakes his head…then HOWWWLSSS and brings his arm down….And the mass rises.. Like a wave breaking, they surge forward at the party. As they charge, the chief drinks a potion, and Pod begins to cast. The Lightning Bolt is deafening…a white flash of intense light blinding both defenders and attackers, leaving an impression on the backs of every eye of twisted bodies being flung away. The chief, who is rising from the crater floor on his flight upwards from his potion, is fully enveloped and thrown backwards and away. The bolt strikes the back of the crater, melting dirt and sand, and partially reflecting upwards. Spell duration expired, Quinton vanishes.

The kobolds immediately around the blast break and scatter all directions, but from the sides, they come on. The kobold wave crashes around the party, thrusting and clubbing with weapons, and in some cases, clawing. Rorek and Froderick fell them with every swing of sickle and axe, and yet the tide advances. Podmidor begins to furiously cast yet again, as Froderick faces immediate danger of being surrounded. Froderick is doing his best to keep the kobolds in front of him at bay, including a female kobold crying and attacking with just her claws, until a club SLAMS in between his shoulder blades. He is knocked to his hands and knees, and surrounded by a press of enemies that immediately try to swarm him. A spear thrust nearly separates Rorek’s shoulder from the muscles connecting it, and another seeks out his chest. Raising his weapon is agony. As Podmidor casts, as Froderick is engulfed by the tide, Rorek too quickly becomes overwhelmed by the press. Then the attackers reach Podmidor, who is lost in his casting. As the first spear enters his body, Pod’s lips keep moving…The second enters his stomach as the first leaves his chest…and his fingers keep tracing runes… The last spear pierces his neck, and he is just able to push it back enough to finish….the final….rune…. A second roar fills the crater as another Lightning Bolt blasts back a dozen kobolds to Podmidor’s left, passing to Froderick’s side. Bleeding and severely wounded, Podmidor somehow remains standing to see the work of his spell.

It is at this point, waaay back on the rim of the crater where he’s been hiding watching the proceedings, that Cues realizes that it will take every single bit of unexpected surprise to break the kobold’s attack and scatter them. It is at this point, when all looks it’s worst, and confusion and death reign, that Cues charges down the slope swinging his staff around over his head and screaming in defiance at the top of his lungs. He is so far away….will he arrive in time to make any difference, or just become another overwhelmed fatality?

Forgotten for the time being, under the tangled press of seeping kobold corpses, Chickens’ chest hitches once…twice… his eyes crack open in anguish…and then glaze over as death transfixes them yet again. and the cycle continues.

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This Title Sucks

What? You expected the title to suck and yet have a good tagline? Piss off!

The rain continues to pour steadily across the land. Russellbob and Tomas easily follow the drag marks from the burnt kobold’s trail through the woods. It leads back in the general direction of the destroyed gnomeflinger net and the site of the brief forest fire. Not too far from the house, Russellbob finds an area where the pine needles are cleared away, as if someone were writhing on the ground. They also find a piece of branch with the bark worn away on one end, and dirt and pine needles caked on the other. They determine that the kobold had used it as a crutch. They then lose the trail. They go back to the house and build up the fire to wait hopefully for the return of their party. Soaked and shivering, Tomas strips down and hangs up his robe to dry, displaying his old man drippy nekkid goodness for any who care to see.

Turqeel realizes that he has been seen by some of the kobolds deeper into the camp. He runs back into the fog, but feels driven to kill the female kobold and her young whelp. He rushes back up the slope, scrabbling over loose stones and roots and up over the rim. The female is climbing up the slope, at an angle away from the fog and the maddened shovel wielding cleric, but is slowed down by the weight of her child.

Chickens lies on the pile of kobolds, as dead as every wretched beast haphazardly tangled beneath him. He finds himself descending into darkness, which again, like last time, takes on an ill-tinged amber color. Again he finds himself surrounded by the souls of those who have fallen to his curse. The Calenthian soldiers from Midway Lake stand with their arms upraised pointing at him, burnt skin blackened and hanging off of their bodies. Vancras stands among them, broken body bent, twisted and burned. All sympathy is gone from the kindly gaze that Chickens had known. Now he shares the accusatory expression of all those surrounding him. And Ketanja…Ketanja stands at the forefront, and is by far the worst. For even as she stands, finger pointed at him, Chickens’ very being is repulsed by her. She bears no physical wounds, but something key and natural is horribly vacant. The very notion of life is an antithesis of what evident before his eyes. Chickens heart begins beating again, drawing him back away from the horrible accusers surrounding him, and back into a world of chaos and pain. What blood is left in his body is pumped fresh atop the dead kobolds beneath him. Again his chest seizes, and death takes him, and the cycle of living and dying over and over begins again.

More kobolds come from the mists of white into view of the party, which has begun to close ranks over the fallen Chickens. Seeing the dozens of bodies piling around the Shadow Monster troll and Rorek’s blood covered axe, more kobolds are starting to retreat than attack. At this point, there are nearly as many kobolds fleeing the fog as those running into it. There are still a few of the foolhardy that chose to press forward, but most are dispatched rather quickly. Quinton, the Shadow Monster troll rips one believing kobold to pieces, jumps up and down on him, and chews him as bubble gum. Pieces of the beast fall through the shadow stuff that he is made of, but no other kobolds notice this. Podmidor maintains his place close to Quinton. Rorek and Froderick are close to being overwhelmed and are taking heavy hits. Froderick executes a particularly brilliant maneuver with his sickle, then on the very next attack horribly misjudges, his sickle slipping in his hand and ending up lodged in Chickens’ prone back. Chickens’ heart was just beginning to futilely beat again, drawing him fully up into the awareness of Froderick’s misplaced bloodletting…annnnd then spiraling back down into a sickly yellow tinged death.

As the bodies pile higher, the oncoming numbers begin to thin….Could they actually pull this off?

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Kobolds, Kobolds, Kobolds

A guest tracks mud in the house, and the tide takes an ugly turn.

Russellbob and Tomas are still waiting for the rest of the group to return in the tinker’s house that the kobolds had inhabited. The rain is still coming down in buckets, and the only thing holding back the overcast dreariness of the day is Russellbob’s sliver of wood that has had Continual Light cast upon it. As they sit, passing the time, they hear a scratching at the front door. Tomas hides the Sliver of Light, while Russellbob tries unsuccessfully to quietly hurry down the front hall into the pantry/kitchen to look out the front window. The front door bursts open, and a kobold falls into the entryway. Leaving a trail of water and mud, it drags itself down the front hall without noticing Russellbob. It lies still once it reaches the main work room. It has a horribly burned and broken leg, and part of it’s back is burned as well. It appears to be unconscious, and Tomas and Russellbob debate on whether to kill it, and who is going to do it. Finally, Tomas casts Slow on it and pins it down while Russellbob searches it. The kobold weakly tries to resist. They then elect to close it in the bedroom, and go to try to find where it came from.

We cut to the the rest of the party currently engaged in the ongoing battle with the entire local kobold population. Kobold bodies are beginning to pile up, and the mud is becoming red with the blood from both the attackers and defenders. The fog and rain are so thick that no one can see beyond six feet around them. Party members lose sight of each other, and time slows down to a mass of confusion and chaos as kobolds appear from the white haze and launch themselves at the nearest intruder to their camp. As more kobolds come into the fog bank, they start coming at the party not just from directly ahead, but also in from the sides.

Turqeel heals himself yet again, as the female/toddler combo he’s been chasing escapes from sight in the fog. He can no longer see the rest of the party. Rushing after her, intent on the kill, he suddenly is out in the open. Behind him, and extending for dozens of yards to his left, the fog bank extends toward the center of the crater and kobold camp. The fog cuts many from view, but dozens of kobolds are still visible. To his right, Turqeel spots the female kobold carrying her toddler and struggling to climb the slope and out of the crater.

The rest of the group fights whoever shows up out of the mist. Kobolds are fleeing from Quinton the shadow troll, though several still fall beneath his quasi-real claws. A kobold rushes out of the white blanket at Pod, who caves its chest in with four Magic Missiles. Rorek and Froderick hold their own, but Chickens….

Chickens raises headsplasher and brings it down square on the skull of a kobold in front of him. Its head splashes, true to the weapon’s name, and the head of the hammer is driven down into the kobold’s chest. When he pulls it back to attack the kobold to his left, the kobold he just attacked is still attached to it. Headsplasher is stuck in its chest. The extra weight nearly pulls headsplasher from his hands, and another opposing kobold takes this opportunity to attack. The kobold lunges forward with a rusty short sword, and chickens snaps his head back. If he still had a nose, it wouldn’ve been lost to the sword thrust. Chickens is still desperately trying to dislodge the mighty Headsplasher from the chest of the kobold when another kobold’s nasty, rusted short sword pierces deeply into his torso. Chickens eyes open wide in shock, and he staggers back off of the sword. The warhammer’s head drops to the pile of kobolds in front of Chickens, dislodging the corpse attached to it. Gathering himself, and yelling in rage and pain, Chickens launches forward with the hammer again, but the kobold falls back, and headsplasher sends rain, mud, and blood splashing up over both himself and the kobolds. More kobolds are birthed by the fog, and they go into a frenzy upon sight of a gnome in their camp. Chickens is surrounded. Rorek and Froderick are fighting their way clear of the kobolds attacking them, and Froderick actually makes it close enough to engage one of the kobolds surrounding Chickens…but it’s not enough. Chickens is stabbed in the back and spine by the three spears from behind. His spine is severed, his lung is punctured, and intestines perforated. Chickens eyes widen…headsplasher falls from limp fingers….and he falls into the pile of kobold bodies at his feet, the rain mixing his blood into that of the kobolds in the mud below.

To be continued…

Tune in next time to hear Rorek say, “If that durned gnome is gonna keep getting so many holes, the least he can do is get one I can work with!”

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Kobolds In The Mist, pt 2

What? A WHOLE game night devoted to nothing but constant hack and slash? Is our DM feeling ok?

We begin the night with the party still enveloped in thick white fog, battling with the kobolds that keep charging in. More and more come in as the alarm spreads through the camp. Our heroes can only see a few feet around them between the thick fog and the pouring rain. Time turns into a frantic blur of babbling kobolds, weapons rising and falling, bodies piling on the ground, and blood and rain mixing underfoot to make a red, frothy mud.

Turqeel heals himself from a dire wound, then almost immediately after takes another wound to the chest that is just as bad. A female kobold carrying a little one stumbles out of the mist into the party, and falls down to her rear in terror. In absolute fury, Turqeel attacks her with his shovel, but is unable to get in a good chop due to his chest wound (and the worst die rolls I’ve ever seen. The dice hated Turqeel this night. Seriously, they were that bad. I mean, really, she is sitting on the ground with a crying toddler in her lap, unarmored, and numb with fear. And yet, he can’t get even close to her with the shovel. If anything, he was teaching the kobold toddler how NOT to kill his mother. But ya….we’ll blame the chest wound). The female gains her feet and stumbles away with her toddler screaming in fear, and Turq staggers after her in a fit of rage, weakly swinging his shovel.

Podmidor casts Shadow Monsters and creates a troll that he lovingly names Quinten. To his surprise, not as many kobolds flee from Quinten as he would suspect. Due to its larger size than the rest of the party, the troll is what many of the kobolds see first through the shroud of fog. This draws many to the troll first. Though Quinten begins to kill many outright, only a few flee, and a few others see through the ruse.

Quentin, Rorek (who is also deeply wounded), and Chickens make up the front line as group after group of kobolds come rushing in through the fog, and Froderick backs up whoever needs it. Podmidor stays behind them, casting spells as needed. Turq, behind everyone else, is focusing all his rage on painfully chasing down the terrified toddler-toting kobold mother, and killing her with his acquired shovel.

And still they come…

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Kobolds In The Mist

Ovewhelming numbers? Meh.

Russellbob and Tomas are still spending their rainy day in the home of the Unknown Tinker that the kobolds abandoned.

The rest of the party stands hiding behind trees and large rocks at the lip of the bowl/crater that hides the kobold encampment. The party debates on what to do…they could go back for help, and get the rest of their party…OR…they can try to take on 200ish enemies on their own.

The answer is obvious.

After debating tactics, Podmidor successfully casts Wall of Fog extending down into the encampment. Rorek charges directly down into the thick fog, and begins feeding his axe anything it will reach. The party follows more slowly. The kobolds notice the unnatural nature of the fog, and begin rushing in to defend their camp.

As we leave off in a “to be continued” state, the party is still in the fog, and visibility is very limited. Kobolds come into view and attack what they can see, or flee if they don’t like it. Several party members have been wounded. Confusion and chaos reign at this point in time.

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Follow Those Kobolds

The party is split, but we’re only keeping one game night, dammit!

Tomas takes Russellbob to Shaghorn for healing. Shaghorn has had enough, as his services are dearly needed among other inventors. The tinkers that were scared away by the group in the last session show up, gibbering madly. Shaghorn tells them to leave and not come back until the kobolds are completely eradicated. If they need shelter, he directs them to find a wizard living several days to the South.

Russellbob and Tomas go to the house where the party was when they left. After inspecting the entire premises, they elect to wait for the party to return. The weather is turning bad, and rain is starting to fall. They contain a nice fire in the house, and sit back to wait.

The rest of the party has decided to head west, since that is the way the lost trail is heading. Cresting a rise, they see a meadow with a creek in the distance, and 4 kobolds resting near it. When the rain comes, the kobolds start moving on, and the party elects to follow.

They follow the kobolds over another rise, and discover a natural bowl about 1/4 mile across. There are roughly 200 kobold men, women and children camped within. Chickens has a surge that tars and feathers one kobold towards the center of the group. This creates a kicked anthill-like flurry in the center of the encampment. From their vantage point, they can identify the chief, but he is too far away for their spells to reach. Where we leave off, they are trying to figure out how to take out the chieftain without being overwhelmed.

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The Grass Is Always Greener

What is the difference between losing your head physically and losing your head mentally? Just a few seconds, really.

Picking up where we left off last week, the kobold that caught a face full of clay jar barely has time to cry out before crashing to the ground, limbs spasming. No more are in sight, but the other one can be heard through the trees, crying out an alarm. Podmidor places a hand on the prone kobold’s chest and casts Comprehend Languages. He is just completing his spell when one of the other tinkers drives his short sword through the kobold’s throat. Blood pours over his blade, and Podmidor’s hand. Podmidor is less than enthused. Froderick takes little notice, scanning the trees for any movement, sickle at the ready. Tomas also stands by alertly.

Chickens, Rorek, Turqeel, and a few of the other tinkers rush through the woods toward the house. Rorek follows closely behind Turq, bellowing a battle challenge. “IT’S NEUTERIN’ TIME!!! COME OUT YE BLASTED DOGMEN!!!” Getting through the trees, they find the house with the front door ajar. Turqeel tries so hard to be quiet, but Rorek is more than loud enough for the whole party.

Russellbob climbs up a tree about 20 feet to try and gain a better vantage point, but can’t see very well through the canopy of leaves. Russellbob decides to climb back down, and the bark beneath his adorable little toes gives way and he plummets a full 20 feet to the ground Russellbob sees the world spin around him, then a large tree root coming up to CRACK him in the face..a large flash of light..then…..darkness.

Chickens just happens to look back to see Russellbob’s form fall from the trees. He turns and rushes back that direction, followed by two of the Tinkers, Froderick, and Tomas. Rorek charges into the house through a window. Turqeel and Podmidor are focused on the possible threat from the house. Tomas picks up Russellbob’s limp form (Now with new peekaboo skull action!!) and uses his Helm of Teleportation to take him back to Shaghorn’s temple. No doubt Shaghorn will be thrilled.

There are no kobolds in the house. They appear to have vacated the premises, but did not clean up after themselves. Turqeel goes around the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign of the kobolds,but finds nothing.

The group meets in front of the house. Chickens relays the story of Russellbob’s fall, and Rorek tells what he found inside the house. Annnd from there, a spiral of party infighting begins. Turqeel accuses Rorek of being a bumbling idiot in his approach to the house, and Rorek eyes Turqeel thoughtfully as food for his axe. Before things can escalate further, Chicken’s curse lashes out.

Froderick is the target, and he suddenly stiffens and shudders, then turns a greenish hue.
Then the hue becomes greener as all of the hair on his body turns to grass. The ring of hair around his bald head. His eyebrows. His arm hair. His beard stubble. All become green blades of grass. His sickle drops to the ground as he stares at himself, eyes wide with horror. Two of the other tinkers, looking at Froderick in shock and fear Two of the other tinkers look at Froderick in shock and fear, give Chickens the sign of the evil eye, and run back towards the village. Froderick drops to his knees, looking at his arms, feeling his head. Podmidor looks at Froderick appraisingly “Least green looks good on you”. Froderick turns to Chickens, shaking with anger.
Chickens gapes “IT WASN’T ME!”
Turqeel: “Froderick take a breath. You know he didn’t mean to!”
Chickens: “We’ve been over this!”

Visibly trying to get himself under control, Froderick says, “You are more dangerous than Mandretch himself.”
Turqeel: “Think frod… instead of getting frustrated with this think of a way to have him get control of it.”
Quivering with anger, Froderick picks up his sickle. and begins to yell, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE? THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN CURE THIS WANTS US OUT!!!!”
Chickens held his hammer steadily, staring coldly at Froderick.
Froderick yells at Turqeel, “LISTEN TO YOURSELF!!! YOU STANK FOR DAYS!! We’re NEVER going to find him! We’ll all be dead first! Or frogs!”
Turqeel finally pushes Froderick over the edge, stating, “You know for a big warrior you do a lot of whining.” And at this point, another effect of Chicken’s random magic manifests itself.

Froderick balls his fist, and putting his weight behind it, steps up and punches Turqeel square on in the nose. Turqeel’s head flies off of his body, and rolls to a stop next to a tree a dozen feet away. Turqeel’s body never moves, and stands squarely facing a clearly stunned Froderick. Podmidor stands with his mouth open wide, speechless. One of the tinkers mutters some swear words, drops his catarifle to the ground and runs back towards the village. He is closely followed by the other two.

Turqeel’s head lying at the base of the tree, nose bleeding, can see past his standing body to Froderick, whose eyes are wide with shock. Turqeel now understands what happened when Chickens released a surge into his head back in Tomas’ mansion. He yells at Froderick, “YOU HAVE TO KNOCK MY HEAD OFF MY BODY TO MAKE A POINT?!” The head, at the tree, is yelling this, but the body intakes breath to do the yelling. Froderick, grassy eyebrows raised in horror,
steps back, sickle again falling to the earth. Turqeel’s body turns and starts walking towards his head. Chickens stands dumbfounded with Cues, whose mouth hangs wide open.

Podmidor moves towards Turqeel’s head, and arrives at the same time his body does. Turqeel’s body holds his hands out, and his head asks, “Pod, can you pick me up?” Pod picks up Turqeel’s head and turns it over to look at the bottom. Pod can see pulsing arteries, a cross section of Turqeel’s spine, and his trachea expand and contract when he breathes. Turqeel can see the world upside down. Podmidor makes mental notes, “Ummmm yes….this is very interesting…” Then he pokes his finger at the inside of Turqeel’s neck. Instead of being squishy, his finger contacts a flat barrier of force.“GIVE ME MY HEAD BACK”, Turqeel yells. Podmidor gives it back, and Turqeel’s body turns it’s head so its facing Pod, and he whispers, “I’m going to eat your soul.” Turqeel tries to put his head back, doubting it will go back on, but it firmly attaches it self immediately. He turns his head back and forth, testing it. Podmidor is incredibly interested by this. Turqeel tries to pull it back off again, but is unable.

Froderick sits down, says quietly to chickens…“All of us, huh? This is it. We’re all doomed. I’d kill you now to rid the world of this…but you wouldn’t die.” Froderick is blank eyed, looking through Chickens. “This world will crack like an egg.”
He rips a handful of grass out of his head, and giggles. Blood appears at the spot.
Chickens: “Frod? what’s wrong with you?”
Froderick, staring blankly: “Ketanja was wrong…there’s no hope.”
Chickens: “Froderick, what are you talking about?”

Totally ignoring the birth of madness next to him, Turqeel tries hard to pull his head off again, looking like a madman himself. Chickens steps back, watching Froderick, and getting his hammer ready. “What’s the point now,” Froderick asks. “It’s all in vain. I can’t kill him. He’ll kill us all before we find Mandretch” Podmidor gently grabs Froderick and guides him to sit down. Froderick sits back, staring at chickens. “I can see it now…the hole in your face. Everything is in there now” Turqeel stops trying to remove his head and watches Froderick warily with Chickens. “Madness….that’s what has been unleashed…utter madness….it will take us all, you know”, Froderick says blankly. Podmidor finally has had enough, and slaps Froderick across the face, yelling “SNAP OUT OF IT!!!” Froderick focuses his gaze on Pod after the slap and slowly nods his head.
Pod: “Listen, Frod-”
Froderick interrupts, “Right. Get a hold of myself. Because it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Pod: We’ve been through a lot, and there’s a lot left to go through."
Froderick: “It’s ok now. I get it. It doesn’t matter. He WILL kill everyone. But we still can’t stop. Just accept it.” Froderick gathers his sickle, and stands up. He looks calmer
“From now on, there are no remove curses. We will keep what we get, to show the world what is coming.” Froderick looks at each party member in turn. “Do you understand?? What happens, STAYS!!!!….Until all the world is burned.”

The group decides at this point to have Froderick track the kobolds to find out where they have retreated to. As they are preparing to go, the next in-party fight begins. Pod makes some cracks to Turqeel about how he’s found a way to get spellbooks once they get back to a town. Cues, already feeling taken advantage of, blows up and confesses to Froderick that Pod has possession of the gem that he had contributed to bribe the militia in Harbvog to keep them all from arrest. He announces that he has earned his rightful place in the party Podmidor rubs it in his face that he doesn’t have it now and Cues responds with a promise that if the gem doesn’t purchase two spellbooks, he’ll see that the one Pod gets burns. The tension between the two mages escalates, with Pod referring to Cues as an adept trying to manipulate them into babysitting, and Cues firing back that he is directly responsible for them finding Chickens to begin with, and then paying his life’s savings to keep them from arrest. Turqeel and Chickens try hard to diffuse the situation, and attention goes back to having Froderick track the kobolds.

Froderick follows the trail deep into the forest, at times having to backtrack. Chickens’ curse again manifests itself, and to his horror, Froderick is the target. This time, there seems to be no obvious effect, to Chickens’ great relief. The ground gets rockier and rockier as the hills begin to get steeper. The tracks become much harder to follow. Finally Froderick stops in frustration and announces that he has lost the trail. As the party discusses what to do, Froderick sits and digs out a small portion of the rations that Shaghorn has provided. He munches slowly, staring at the grass on his arm.

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Third Time's The Charm?

Where one party member has a change of heart, but the others still want to find out if monster families are flammable.

It is late morning. Our determined heroes apply the finishing touches on their makeshift grenades. The five tinkers who have decided to join in on the defense of their village are quite intrigued by the grenade idea. The party discusses the apparent weaknesses in their devices, and finally come up with the idea for Tomas to try to finagle a Spectral Hand spell enough to have it carry the bombs to the kobold house, and set them down there. Tomas will then Fireball the area, exploding the bombs. Plan in place, they start down towards the site of their past ass whoopins. While they debate, Rorek cradles his axe like a baby, and promises to feed it soon.

As they grow nearer to their destination, Russellbob finds himself thinking about the little koboldling that quietly reached out to him at the house window the night before. He thoughtfully asks the group, “I am curious though, where did we land with the family discussion? You guys know most of the kobolds there are women and pups, right?”

“Ya, that’s how we know that there is something bigger afoot. Raiding parties don’t bring families”, responds Froderick, paying more attention to his surroundings than Russellbob’s words. Turqeel realizes that he is need of a weapon, and Podmidor advises him to use a torch as a club. Rorek snorts, and indicates Russellbob and says, “Use the wee one!!!” and laughs uproarously. No one responds to this, but Rorek doesn’t notice.

When Russellbob expresses his concerns that this is not a war party, and they are about to burn to death a family that is just hanging out in the house, the five tinkers that have joined the group to help with the threat are beside themselves with anger and disgust. “They’reKOBOLDS!!! Evilsmellystupidsavageverminthathavecausedustroubleforgenerations! They’reworsethangoblins! Andyou’reworriedabouttheirfamilies??”

Russellbob stands up to their anger, insisting “I’m the only one who looked in the eyes of the pup that wouldn’t hurt anything, and more than half the kobolds there aren’t warriors!” At this, Froderick stops dead in his tracks, cranes his neck back to look to Russellbob who is riding on his backpack and asks, “What are you saying, Russellbob?”

Tomas and Cues are listening closely, and Turqeel asks “Ok guys, what are we going to do then?” Chickens shudders, then coldly says, “I think we should stick to the plan.” Rorek rolls his eyes dramatically, and in his best falsetto demonstrates nursing a baby and asks, “Oh, should we cuddle-wuddle the sweet widdle monster?” Ignoring Rorek, Cues asks Russellbob “Are you saying that they aren’t born little killers?”

Russellbob states, “What im saying is that I’ve had a change of heart. I didn’t really have time to think about it after getting back but what I saw there was some innocent families not rabid flesh eating monsters. Have any of you visited the camp?” No hands are raised, and only silence answers this question.

At this point, the other tinkers nearly explode with opinions.
“We’dbeattackedonsightifwewereevendclose”
“Theyalwaysattackusonsight,andusuallyingreaternubmers”
“Theyfleewhenthenumbersareeven”

Chickens, working to prove thier point, asks “How many gnomes have been killed by kobolds over the years?” The other gnomes all agree to his question quite emphatically, some even looking him in the face, despite the embarrassing missing nose. After a pause, Chickens follows with, “I say we stick to the plan, let’s get moving.” Turqeel agrees with “Families or not, they kill without mercy.”

Froderick tells Russellbob gently, “I was a soldier for years. I’ve seen things that make me shudder at night. The innocent always are the ones to pay when war comes. If we stop, do you think they will?”
“Has anyone asked them what they want?” Russellbob presses.
Turqeel: “ok, do we need to send a messenger?”

At this point, the other tinkers are starting to mutter and give very angry glances to Russellbob. The disagreement continues, then goes to a vote. Russellbob stands alone in his vote to ask questions first, and blow shit up later. Froderick makes one condition in the attack plans, to go in and do what they have to do, but they don’t kill any women or children that don’t attack first. The other five tinkers express displeasure at this notion. Finally, the party agrees to set off the bombs, and deal with any surviving women and children left with mercy, provided none attack first.

They elect to leaving the cart there, and carrying the grenades on foot to the occupied home. The group scans the trees and brush carefully as they progress forward, wary of another kobold trap. They bypass the House of the Dead Bear with no incident, and make it all the way to the house the kobolds are squatting in. From the road, they can only see a portion of the home, the rest is blocked by trees. The group spreads out a bit, so as not to fall victim all at once to another sudden rain of spears. Tomas needs to be in a place where he can see the home to plant the bombs. Russellbob is asked to sneak up and investigate the scene.

Making his way to the front of the home, Russellbob sees two kobolds leaning on spears, quietly talking in their native tongue. He slips around them, and goes to the side of the house where he first looked in and saw the kobolds before. He pulls himself up to look in the window, and sees one more male kobold with a spear, and two females, all dozing. The little one is still there, and is playing with a stick, banging it on the floor like a club. Russellbob’s foot slips, and scrapes on the side of the home. The young one looks over, and meets his eyes again. It doesn’t cry out, but instead stands up, and toddles over toward the window. At this point, Russellbob drops down, and begins to work his way back.

He is not nearly so silent on his return trip, and as he is crossing from the side of the house back across the front to get back to the party, the two kobolds become aware of his presence and start yapping/frauhausing in surprise and anger. One looks too caught off guard to act and the other jumps forward and hurls a spear. The spear flies wide, and Russellbob rushes back throught the trees and brush to the dubious safety of the party. He gets to the group and relates what has happened in a rush of words that even the tinkers are hard pressed to follow. The kobold giving chase spots rushes out of the trees, sees the party, and screeches to a halt in surprise. Turqeel steps forward and hurls one of his clay jars at the kobold as hard as he can. The jar crashes into the kobold’s face, splitting the jar and knocking the kobold from his feet.

Annnd that’s where we ended. Yup, that’s it. Right in the start of a potential fight or ass whoopin’, whichever way it has yet to go. It was late, and people needed to get up for various stupid responsibilities the next day. The kobold gets a faceful of a rather weighty clay jar filled with explosive goodies, and it’s lights out. Cut to black. Cue credits. To be continued.

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The Most Planned Out Kobold Extermination In History

I wonder if Orkin goes through this each day before dispatching their vans.

Chickens finally comes out of his stupor and realizes that he has a female body and inadequate clothing. He decides that this is an unacceptable combination, considering the pigs that he travels with. One Remove Curse and one donated clerical robe later, he is back in business.

The party gatheres enough sand for Tomas to cast Polymorph Any Object on, converting their harvest to one big pile of smokepowder. He also casts this on some water to add to the lamp oil donated by Shaghorn. Eighteen medieval grenades are thus lovingly created.

Upon arriving with the cart at the launching gnomeflinger, the party finds five tinkers that had decided to volunteer their services to help eradicate this stubborn kobold foothold in their village. Enter Keegan Eldersnoot, Girvin Rumblebeard, Tomlin Bashmantle, Cerin Kneefoottoe, and Lorcin Jones. Keegan has a new invention he would like to try. It is essentially a rifle barrel with a miniature catapult built on the top of it that fires sling stones. Inside the barrel are many gears and other tinker deemed necessities.

The group plans. And plans. And plans. Then plans a little more.

The group has finally come up with a plan that they are satisfied with and is now poised to take their homemade explosives beyond the site of their recent budding forest fire directly to the kobolds themselves.

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Banalities And Brainstorming.

One of those game nights.

Chickens still remains semi-conscious, coming to grips with finally achieving womanhood. The rest of the group tries to figure out how best to approach this kobold issue. They decide that if the kobolds have actual families with them, this is not a simple raiding party. Something must be driving them out. Something bigger is afoot. So, how best can they find out what it is without having their asses handed to them by a bunch of creatures much weaker and less intelligent than they are?

They finally come up with the idea to have Russellbob and someone go sneak in the back, while the rest of the group causes a big distraction in front. To cause the distraction, they ask Shaghorn to go through the village, and find all the clay pots, smokepowder (blackpowder) and stray metal bits that he can gather. They will try to create wicks, and make grenades. As the party is wearing out it’s welcome, Shaghorn agrees to hopefully expedite their departure time.

While he is gathering said items, Turqeel goes and bathes in the creek down the way. The water is COLD, and creatures downstream are adversely affected by what comes from his robes. Fish die, and frogs relocate. It’s a mini-environmental disaster. If frogs could vow revenge, Turq would find himself in an amphibian war.

The rest of the party goes to the inn for breakfast. Turqeel, still wet, joins them after killing the wildlife at the creek. The innkeep’s main interest is when are they leaving with Chickens. It seems that the near catastrophic forest fire has the village on their last nerve.

Shaghorn returns with 18 pots, 2 bags of powder, and a bunch of metal bits. There is only enough powder to make 6 jars. Then the idea comes up to magically create more, and Tomas suggests that he cast Polymorph Any Object on some sand and rocks to make more smokepowder…blackpowder…whatever.

Annnnd that’s where we left off. The group is set to take the cart of jars and such down to the gnomeflinger, and go from there.

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