Gnatz and Fleez (8 Aug 2002) Thomas, Redmane, Sir Lefallon and Rachel venture into the caverns at Icejaw Pit.

Beneath the teeth of Icejaw's maw, the stairs descend into the almost familiar corridors of Icejaw Pit, that might have at one time been the home of a tiny civilization, but now hosts dangerous and wild things that skitter into the shadows away from the light. Squeaks and scrapes echo around the corners and in the far-off recesses of side passages. They are labyrinthine, and without expert guidance, one could get lost very quickly. The bottom of the stairwell opens out into no less than seven passages, each framed by an arch carved with fanciful many-pointed stars, and boasts a high-arched ceiling surrounding the stairwell. The travelers' lights pick out gauzy spider webs in the spaces between the rafters.

After the travelers break camp, Thomas leads the way followed closely by Sir Lefallon with sword drawn, then Rachel with her crossbow, and Lady Redmane with silver sword drawn, with Ahearn at the rear. The Lord Explorer relies on his keen senses to detect the direction of the wind, which he hopes would lead them to the hidden entrance of the Destroyer's Keep; in his hand, the small brass sphere has been unshuttered far enough to emit a narrow, piercing beam. Rachel's torch gutters low at times, then flames up again, casting wavering shadows from the others.

The passages all look the same, dusty and untouched by human feet for many Years, though smaller tracks suggest unknown creatures have been through these parts. It is just before another turn that a distant sound halts Thomas and his friends. Something very heavy is moving, stone scraping against stone, and the vibrations tremble through the floor beneath their feet. Whatever it is, the sound came from the corridor to the right from the intersection ahead.

Redmane tenses at the sound, and grasps at the hilt of her steel sword with her free hand reflexively.

Sir Lefallon freezes. He looks to the others to see if they heard it as well.

Thomas crouches down, one hand holding onto the light-sphere, his other resting on the ground to stabilize his balance. His eyes narrow and he says, "Okay. I've been seeing more of these prints along the way. They're smallish creatures -- most likely goblins. Let's hope they aren't in large numbers down here." His fingers tap against the ground for a moment and he adds, "I don't think they're the ones making that other sound, though. They're not big enough to move something large enough to make that sort of noise. Nor do these passages seem big enough for a large enough number of them to move an object that heavy."

Rachel nods to Tom. She holds her torch steady, frowning, with her head turned to one side as she listens to the noises ahead of them.

"Shall I scout it out?" Thomas asks the others and glances back.

The movement stops with a final THOOM, as block meets wall. In the silence, a grumbly, growly voice rasps in a few syllables in a guttural tongue. The language means nothing to Thomas or Redmane, but Rachel holds up one hand, concentrating.

A second, deeper voice snarls a longer reply. Rachel whispers, "You were right, they are goblins. The first one asked 'Found anything, Gnatz?' The reply was 'A few voles. Squashed flat now. Good for soup maybe.'"

"It sounds like there're only two of them then," Agatha whispers to those ahead of her. "Should we take them out, wait for them to leave, or try to capture them?"

Thomas hmms. "What are they moving then? Or maybe they have a machine moving something," Thomas says quietly. He looks at Redmane and repeats, "It sounds like there are two, but there could be more. Shall I verify the numbers, then perhaps lure them back, by pretending to be prey? We could ambush them and take them down quickly."

Sir Lefallon whispers, "I don't like separating. They might ambush you if you go by yourself, milord."

"They could try, I suppose. It's not like I'll be going that far ahead of all of you," Thomas replies with a wry grin.

Redmane nods, and whispers, "Let Simon lure them in; he's smaller and faster than you, Tom."

"But, he's not used to working in these sort of confines," Thomas points out.

As she finishes her translation, the first voice -- loud and apparently unconcerned about the possibility that they might be overheard -- continues talking. Rachel listens intently to the voice beyond, trying to hear over the whispered conversation, then translates his words, too. "That one just said: The trap is reset now. Think we'll catch anything this time?"

Thomas grins rakishly and whispers, "Oooh, traps. A challenge."

Sir Lefallon blinks at the suggestion, and then at Rachel's words. He whispers, "Well, I can give it a try, but I don't like the sounds of this..."

Redmane thinks for a moment, and quietly suggests, "Tom, think you can set off that trap without being caught? We can ambush them when they come out to check on it."

Rachel makes a shushing motion as the voices finish. "No, it's too deep in Winter," she translates for Gnatz. "Travelers will be staying home by a nice warm fire, like we should be, Fleez." The second voice sighs.

Tom is about to say something, then looks at Rachel and waits for her to give an "all clear" to speak again.

The voices are silent, and Rachel nods to Tom. "That's all they said." A little stamping echoes down the corridor, as of someone moving in place to warm up.

"Well, are there any rocks or old stones on the floor near you, Redmane? I can certainly try and go 'trap fishing' to set it off. If it's designed to catch animals, it likely uses a tripline or some such to trigger it. A bit of rope, a largish weight on the end and you get an instant fishing-trap line," Thomas explains to the group.

Redmane rummages around, and finds a few hand-sized and smaller rocks at the base of the walls. "Yes, I've found some," she whispers, and passes the stones to Rachel so she can pass them forward.

There is a slight pause, a grumbly comment, and then small footsteps sound in the corridor, booted feet (but not very large ones) moving away. Rachel translates, "Let's get back to the village and warm ourselves up."

Sir Lefallon whispers, "I think whatever they were moving sounded a bit too big to be intended to catch just fish..."

"Good," replies Thomas and accepts the stone. After a quick and odd glance to Simon, Thomas goes to work by selecting the largest stone and wraps his rope around it a couple times, altering directions as he does so. He ties it off, then tests the weight. The other stones go into his pocket, just in case. "Okay, there. I'm going to move ahead and see if I can find the trap and discharge it. Just wait here. And oh, Redmane, Ahearn?" Thomas says.

By this time, the footsteps have faded off into silence.

The white stallion whickers, lowering his head to listen to Tom, ears pricked forward.

"Yeah?" Redmane whispers, still trying to get over the idea that there's an entire village of goblins down here somewhere.

Thomas smiles wryly and says, "No horsing around while I'm gone, eh?" With that, Thomas slinks off into the darkness ahead slowly, lighting the floor ahead of himself with the light-sphere.

Redmane narrows her eyes, but doesn't retort.

From the intersection, Thomas moves quietly into the corridor to the right, which enters a gallery easily wide enough for everyone to march abreast if they chose to do so. Columns are set into the walls on both sides, carved at the top into gargoyles that unfurl their wings into the ceiling, as if they were bearing the weight of all that rock on their shoulders. The floor is made up of four-feet wide tiles of stone, some of them cracked down the middle.

Thomas directs the light to the columns near the middle quarter of the floor. "Let's see here. Do we have collapsing columns perhaps? Or maybe a block from the ceiling falls. Or maybe a pit with squishing walls," Thomas considers.

Thomas's gaze sweeps across the wall and then the ceiling. There are thick lines between the blocks, but it's impossible to say if it is just that the tunnels are old here, or if some of them might be part of a trap.

Thomas sticks his hand in his pocket and pulls out a few rocks. "Time to play pitch-and-toss," he mutters quietly. He tosses a rock out, aiming for the middle quarter of the floor.

clatter! The rock skitters across the floor, to the other side where it raises a tiny cloud of dust.

Thomas takes one step further into the room, uncoiling his rope.

As the explorer touches his foot to the floor, he feels something wrong about it and withdraws quickly-- it's giving way slightly beneath his weight. A closer inspection reveals that the entire line of stone tiles before the middle quarter of the room is slightly raised from their neighbors. A pressure trigger, most likely.

"Ho-ho, look what we have here," Thomas mutters and steps backward. He crouches down near the raised stones and peers along the floor, trying to see if there is a clear path through the room.

The line runs completely from left to right. It is four feet wide, not a difficult distance to jump.

Tom hmms and taps his chin. He looks around the area on his side of the line for a large rock -- perhaps cinderblock sized.

Sir Lefallon peeks around the corner, looking about for Thomas's lantern, and catches sight of the beam of light. "Psst," he whispers. "Are you okay?"

"Pressure plated floor. Stay right there," Thomas whispers back and goes to get one of the large rocks. "I'm going to try and trigger it."

"What-- are you sure that's a good idea?" The young knight furrows his brows as he peers harder into the room, studying it.

"Probably not, but I'd rather trip it now, than forget about it and trip it while we're running from something worse," Thomas points out.

Sir Lefallon says, "If you say so, but in my opinion, better still to not trip it at all, on our way in or out." He waits from his vantage point, looking anxious.

"And I don't want to have to rely on folks remembering to jump four feet coming and going this way," Thomas whispers. He takes several steps backwards, putting two of the floor sections between himself and the line of raised stone. He then takes in a breath and heaves the large stone out and towards the line of pressure plates.

An explosive noise sounds from the ceiling, which abruptly starts to plunge downward! Ratcheting noises come from within the walls.

Thomas high-tails it back to where Sir Lefallon is waiting. "Whoo! Look out!" he says.

In the space of only a second, the gallery has been cut off in half completely, leaving a stone wall in front of Thomas and Sir Lefallon.

The younger boy ponders. "Now what, milord?"

"Well, now we know what that sound was," Thomas says and eyes the wall.

"Whoo?" Redmane whispers to Rachel. "Did I just hear Thomas say 'Whoo'?"

Ahearn snorts and prances backwards a half-step, looking wary, while Rachel says, "What was that? I think we'd better take a look."

Thomas walks slowly up to the wall. He walks along it, examining it carefully for a reset switch. "Well, we might have to wait for them to come back and reset it. Or, we see if we can reset it ourselves ... or we try and find a way around. Or! we chisel out some of the mortar and make a door," Thomas says with a grin.

Silver sword drawn, Redmane nods to Rachel and cautiously moves forward.

"That'll be a lot of chiseling," Sir Lefallon says as he approaches the gallery carefully.

Rachel follows just behind Redmane, blinking as the wall Tom stands before comes into view. "What -- where did the goblins go?" she says, looking surprised. Ahearn brings up the rear.

"Never mind the goblins," Redmane mutters. "Where did the tunnel go?"

Thomas moves to the wall next and checks over it slowly. "Looks like they had a retracting wall. How clever," Thomas comments.

Ahearn snorts, flicking his tail.

"Well, looks like we'll have to go around," Thomas says and turns to face the others. "At least the goblins are on the other side."

"So how do we go around, Tom?" Redmane asks.

Sir Lefallon catches onto Thomas's inspection and joins in on searching the columns and the walls for hidden mechanisms. After a moment, he reports, "Didn't find anything."

"We backtrack and take another branch. I'll have to track for wind," Thomas answers.

Ahearn dips his head, gesturing to the block. Voices, from the far side, he says.

"Back!" Thomas hisses and heads back to the passageway they came from.

Redmane cocks her head and listens as well, then nods in agreement. "So, what should we do if they raise the blocks?"

Sir Lefallon looks confused, then forms an "O" with his mouth, catching on. He follows Thomas.

"They'll likely come and investigate what tripped it. If so, we jump them. Redmane on one side of the hall, Sir Lefallon and I on the other. Rachel in the center a ways back, crossbow ready with Ahearn," Thomas explains, not stopping.

Rachel motions the others to silence, straining to try to catch the voices the knight and her steed heard.

After they stealth back, out of sight of the triggered trap, Rachel explains in a barely audible whisper, "They're not sure if the trap fell on an animal or travelers. One of them said, 'Shut up, let's listen, see if they're still here.'--that's the last, so they may be listening now."

"Let's set up the ambush then," Redmane whispers back. "We can let Ahearn lure them to us, since they probably won't expect one if they think a horse wandered into the tunnels."

Thomas nods at that, but says nothing else in case they're listening. He motions to the others to come on back into the narrower tunnel.

Sir Lefallon flashes a quick thumbs-up, then lays his hand on the hilt of his sword as he huddles into the shadows.

Winking at Ahearn, Redmane takes up a position on the wall opposite from Sir Lefallon.

Thomas places his hand on his sword and pulls back into the shadows. He closes the shutter on his light and waits quietly.

Rachel grinds out her torch between the floor and her booted heel. Ahearn ambles forward, in that instant, looking distinctly less impressive than his usual self. His mane seems dusty and tangled, his size smaller. The faint double-vision of glamour is upon him, evident to his companions.

"Clever," Thomas thinks.

Redmane realizes something, and focuses her attention back along the corridor behind them, just in case the goblins have a way to outflank them before lifting the trap.

After a moment, stone grinds against stone slowly, much like the sound they heard before, ending in a final THOOM as the block is hoisted back into place. It is easy to imagine goblins looking across the chamber, drooling uncontrollably, and chattering to one another in grumbly syllables, for such comes from the gallery.

Thomas tightens his grip around his sword and places his thump on the shutter of the light-sphere, ready to open it when the goblins come into the trap.

Rachel makes an "O.K." sign against Thomas's side. Whatever she's hearing the goblins say, she's not worried that it'll interfere with their plans.

Two dark humanoid shapes follow the dusty, tunnels-grimed horse with exaggerated attempts at stealth as they enter the intersection. In the darkness, it's difficult to make out more than that they are there, but they smell musky and feral.

The white horse lifts his nose, twitching it at the smell of unwashed goblin. He gives a fearful whicker and skitters backwards, out of the intersection and away from the goblins.

Thomas listens quietly, waiting for the goblins to get just past them in the hallway so they'll have them surrounded.

Redmane tightens the grip on her sword, and tries not to laugh at what Ahearn is saying in horse-speech.

One of the goblins snarls to the other, and they begin to pick up the pace and hurry after the horse. As they pass through the hallway, the shadowy shapes of their tiny round bucklers and their short swords become apparent.

Thomas continues to wait, wanting them just past before the ambush triggers.

The larger goblin continues after the disguised Ahearn, but the smaller one pauses slightly and mutters something to his companion. His glance slides to Redmane's side, though it hasn't quite reached her yet.

They must be sensing the iron, Redmane thinks.

Rachel prods Tom urgently, as if to push him towards the goblins.

Thomas decides to trigger it now before the goblins realize they're not alone. He steps forward and back towards the intersection to try and put himself behind both the goblins.

Thomas thumb-flicks on the shutter on the light-sphere while his right hand draws out his sword. "Well well, what have we here? Two hungry rats, hoping to catch food in a trap find themselves caught in one," he says.

In the sudden light, the goblins shriek and whirl around, trying to find their enemies! The goblins are misshapen humanoids, four feet tall with oversized fore-arms and lower legs, and fingernails so thick and long that they might as well be claws. Their greenish faces look as if they might have been left too long in the sun and started to melt, and their yellow eyes have black slit pupils, pulled thin in response to Tom's light. Each wears shredded remnants of silvery chain mail belted around its waist, on top of coarse wool tunics, and carries a short sword and a buckler.

Moving in haste, Redmane steps towards the larger goblin and tries to knock him out with the pommel of her sword, thinking, "I hope nobody else heard them shriek!"

Sir Lefallon calls out, "Surrender!" and draws his sword to threaten the smaller one. He throws a quick glance to Tom to be sure whether or not they want prisoners.

"Rachel, tell them to ... oh for the heavens," Thomas starts to say, thinking along the same lines as Sir Lefallon, then rushes in as well since Redmane has started to attack. So much for asking them to surrender. He brings his sword forward as he does so and swings it wide, hoping to catch the smaller one with the flat of his blade and stun it.

Whang! Crash! In the space of two seconds, the battle is over as quickly as it began, the goblins knocked into unconsciousness -- or at least, they have been well subdued, for the larger one groans in a heap of ragged clothes and gangly limbs.

With a flash of silver, Thomas sheathes his sword and comments, "Well, not what I intended, but hey, it works. Rachel, do goblins have a written language and can you read it?"

Ahearn plants a single hoof, very lightly, over the center of the larger one, to discourage any thoughts it might have about moving.

There are no answering cries from farther in the tunnels to answer the goblins' calls. Silence draws back in again.

"Knock 'em out first, then ask them to surrender," Redmane whispers, then kneels down to disarm the groggy, pinned goblin. She looks up to Ahearn and whispers, "'Oh, help me! I'm sooooo scared!?' Talk about hamming it up..."

Thomas laughs and says, "Typical knight. You haven't changed."

Rachel shakes her head. "They do not write, m'lord. Did you see something that looked like writing down here?"

Sir Lefallon looks down at the goblins. "That was anticlimactic," he says with a grin. "So what do we do with them now, milord?"

The stallion snorts. As if they had any idea.

Rachel adds, "They have keen noses -- the smaller one, Fleez, scented us. That's when they paused."

"No, I was simply curious if you could if we found anything when we searched them," Thomas replies as he kneels down beside the small one. With that, Thomas searches over them for anything of interest. He also takes a moment to examine the chain mail. He comments to Sir Lefallon with a grin, "We loot! Well, search."

Sir Lefallon looks a bit surprised. "But that wouldn't be chivalrous ... or does that apply to prisoners?" He scratches behind an ear, thinking about it.

"Let Tom do it, Sir Lefallon," Redmane suggests. "That way we only need to wash one pair of hands."

"We're surviving out here, Sir Lefallon. You need to learn to apply a different set of rules out here," Thomas comments. He leans in, checking the mail even closer and says, "I wonder if this is old Mirari chain mail and I wonder where they may have gotten it."

The Lord Explorer's search is fruitful: aside from an amazing collection of body lice, and some gnawed-on jerky of unknown origin tucked into their pouches, the smaller one is also carrying a small brass key about six inches long, slightly grimy from past handling.

The translator nods to Tom, pulling up her torch and re-lighting it. "If they've anything unfamiliar and written about them, let me see it. It may be in another tongue I've studied."

The young knight considers Thomas's discovery of grimy thing after thing and nods, smirking. "Fine by me, Lady Redmane!"

"Knights, all a bunch of Primadonnas. Don't want to get dirty," Thomas teases then holds up a key. "One item we may have use for!"

"Anyone wants some of their jerky?" Thomas asks a few moments later.

"Well, it must open something," Sir Lefallon theorizes. "What about these goblins then? Should we tie them up and leave them somewhere?" Peering at the jerky, he shudders. "They've been eating that!"

"It's probably still edible," Thomas observes.

"I wish I had more silk now to mask my blade better," Redmane mumbles, and kneels down again to examine the chain mail. "Looks pretty standard to me, just thin silver links." She points out some bits of crude wiring and notes, "Probably patched together from different original pieces. He let it tarnish, so I'm guessing he's not a particularly high-ranking goblin."

Sir Lefallon shakes his head, holding up his hands to ward the jerky off. "I'm not that desperate yet, milord."

Thomas sighs and gets up. He wipes his hands off on his cloak and says, "Suit yourself, Sir Lefallon. Anyway, I was hoping they might have some clue to the location of Randall's remains. But, can't tell from that chain mail."

"Well, I hope we won't find out they've been using his bones for soup stock," Sir Lefallon quips. "Or is that why you were fingering the jerky?"

Rachel shudders at the comment. "Lefallon!"

The young knight looks sheepish. "Sorry, milady."

"He died a long time ago, Sir Lefallon," Thomas mutters.

"Let's tie these two up and gag them, then question them," Redmane suggests. "Separately, so we have a better chance of catching any lies."

"Reasonable suggestion, Redmane." Thomas agrees. Thomas cuts off a couple segments from his rope and offers them to Redmane.

"Oh -- we shouldn't have to worry about the trap going off again," Rachel says, after a moment of silence. "One of the things they mentioned when they came after Ahearn -- Fleez said he set the trap so it wouldn't fall on them when they dragged the horse back."

Taking the rope, Redmane starts binding the big goblin's hands and feet. "Let's wake this one up first, he looks to be the least dazed."

A few minutes later, Fleez has been trussed up in a cul-de-sac some distance back. Gnatz comes to slowly, after Sir Lefallon pours water on his face to wake him up. "Grr, gnar!" he roars, struggling with his bonds, but to no avail. With Rachel's help translating, they eventually discover that he is indeed named Gnatz, and his companion is named Fleez. They are, he claims, just humble goblins living in the caves and he promises that they won't bother the noble heroes again if they are just let go.

"I don't believe it. How many of you are down here? Where are you living?" Thomas asks coolly.

Rachel interprets the question for the goblin. Seeing the growly, harsh sounds of the language emerge from her delicate lips leaves a strange impression of disconnection.

Gnatz tries bluffing a few more times, but after some sharp prodding, he changes his answer. There are "uncountable" goblins, though Rachel notes that goblins aren't good about counting very high. He is an important person of his people, and if he is badly treated, the wrath of his warriors will go harshly against the heroes. prod A few more tries suggests that his final answer is probably more accurate, that he's just a scout, like Fleez, and that his people have been charged from "time beyond memory" to maintain the traps throughout this complex of tunnels. Their village lies much deeper down.

"Does he know where all the traps are then?" Redmane asks Rachel.

Gnatz's answer, translated, is that there are many, many traps, so many that you couldn't take one step further without getting shot, stabbed, poisoned, drowned, crushed, or barbecued. Turn back, travelers, and leave him and Fleez and he will graciously show them how to get out without triggering any of the one-way traps that let them in.

Seeing Agatha's results at interrogation, Thomas tries something else and leans in. He pushes a bit with glamour to make himself a more intimidating. "I'm looking for a couple things down here. One, where are the exits; namely where is the exit into the Fortress above. Two, I'm looking for the remains of an old Mirari knight -- I was told his remains were down here. And you are going to tell me how to get to both safely."

Gnatz shrinks back in fear and yells something which Rachel translates as, "The Great Lord! He who dwells high above, past the secret places!" After he gets calmed down, Gnatz's subservient groveling gets translated as follows: surely the Great Lord knows these things and is only testing his humble servant, but the tribe has never been permitted into the secret caves that lie beneath their own village, and have been charged with protecting the way in ever since the Great Lord brought them there. As for the remains of a knight, he is sorry to say that they have never noticed such a remarkable thing as the armor of a true knight below.

Redmane nudges Thomas, and says, "Ask him about the dragon."

Thomas leans in slightly closer and grins ferally. "Now, where is the dragon's lair?" Thomas asks darkly.

Gnatz shrinks in on himself and gobbles fearfully. Supposedly the young warriors of the tribe always suspected there was a dragon living in the secret places, where they were forbidden to go, because they could hear the breathing, and feel its hot breath, but they never actually saw it, for all the stories they told about how they would be fierce dragonslayers someday and take its treasure for their own. He begs forgiveness from the Great Lord for not knowing the answer.

Sir Lefallon ponders Rachel's translation, and then smirks. "It sounds much as the stories we told around our own campfires, when we were young squires. Though Lady Redmane, do not the stories say that you yourself have slain a dragon?"

"Fine, then. What are the quickest and safest ways to the secret caves below your village?" Thomas asks quickly next, hoping to not let the creature regain its wits.

"Yeah, I got one once," Redmane admits to Sir Lefallon.

Sir Lefallon looks impressed even more by Redmane's nonchalance about the matter.

Gnatz starts to look disbelieving as Rachel translates the question, but as Thomas looms closer and projects more intimidation into appearing the Great Lord that he is supposed to be, he starts to babble. Go straight from the gallery, and then follow these turns... Rachel is hard put to keep up with the translation, and Sir Lefallon writes as quickly as he can, once he's found a scrap of paper.

Thomas stands and dusts himself off. "Very well, as a further test of your 'loyalty', you will accompany us on our journey and if I find you remember wrongly, you will be dealt with, harshly. My slave here wields iron and will use it to torment your forms slowly, should you have lied to me," Thomas intones. "But first, I need to undo some things here so I can go in disguise and observe the others down here... First, to release the steed from its disguise..." Thomas looks toward Ahearn and waves his hand nonchalantly and then says, "There, it will fade. Now, to disguise myself..." This time he waves a hand over his own face, then lets go of his glamour.

Redmane growls convincingly at the goblin.

Gnatz looks amazed at the transformation. Rachel translates his exclamation as being impressed that the Great Lord is able to make himself look so ordinary, exactly like any of the surface dwellers. After a little bit of work in impressing Fleez to much the same effect, the two goblins are secured and then the travelers set off.

True to Gnatz's words, the traps prove to be simple enough to bypass once they are known about, and they could have followed the footprints, even without his directions. The two goblins fearfully go before the one they call the "Great Lord," though it takes reminding now and then to hasten them and keep them from inspecting Thomas's "disguise" too closely. Aside from numerous tripwires and pressure plates, they pass through several large rooms: one in which a minotaur statue dominates the room, to which Fleez's key proves to open the door beyond without mishap, and one which is a gallery much like the first, but with an undersea theme. There, Sir Lefallon's smaller frame permits him to scramble through a small passage and access the controls to unlock the far door.

Beyond the undersea gallery is a set of rising stairs which opens out into an immense cave in which several campfires burn, casting light around them onto tents stitched together from badly tanned hides. Around those campfires are gathered easily a hundred goblins.

"Endrenleng!" shouts a goblin sentry, catching sight of the intruders. He blows on a horn, sounding a long, low note, and the camp dissolves into a medley of panic, only gradually dissipated as a larger goblin dressed in a cloak of some scaly stuff pushes through the crowd and roars gutturally at the intruders, looking barbarically ferocious in his bull's skull headdress. His gaze washes scornfully over the cringing Gnatz and Fleez.

Thomas waves his hand and pushes the glamour again, trying to make himself more imposing and impressive, like what so frightened Gnatz. "You should know full well who I am," he says forcefully. "I am here to test whether or not you have been fulfilling your proper duties and still know where and what you are to be guarding. Stand aside or face my wrath and my servant's weapon of iron."

Redmane draws her steel blade, and glowers down menacingly at the shorter goblins while stepping up alongside Thomas.

Before the glowering of her two taller companions, the young black-haired translator repeats Tom's words in the goblin tongue, endeavoring to impart the same menace to them. The harsh language lends itself well to threats.

The chieftain appears taken aback by Thomas's words and the gleaming iron blade that his slave carries, but it isn't until Rachel translates that the true import of these things sink in. He falls to his knees and then prostrates himself before the Great Lord, followed by the other goblins of the village. Soon the entire cave is a sea of backs.

Leaning in a bit closer to Thomas, Redmane whispers, "I really, really hope they don't throw us a feast. My stomach isn't made of iron, after all."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.