Linda stopped, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior of the tavern. Behind her, the doors swung shut, and then past one another, undersprung doors knocking against each other, a sound that got softer in absolute terms but sounded louder in the hush that descended on the room. A warm weight vanished from Linda's back as a svelte elven ranger silently dismounted.
"Craven cowards," Julie said, breaking the silence, glaring at a long table filled with men dressed in gambesons, one with a heavy bandage wrapped around his arm and another with an ugly scabbed gash on his forehead. "Surprised to see us alive?"
One of the men with more honesty than dignity piped up. "Yes? There were a fucking lot of them, and I'm no hero of legend. At least five good men died, and Aldus was my brother-in-law. What am I supposed to tell my sister?"
Julie spat on the floor. "If you don't know what to say, I can talk to her for you. I'll tell her that if you'd held the line instead of breaking in fear, Aldus might be alive today."
Linda put her hand on Julie's shoulder. "Water under the bridge," Linda said. "Look, I'm disappointed in you, but I'm also disappointed in myself for making the mistake of misjudging you. I should have known you lot weren't ready to face charging goblins. Anyway, we beat them after you fled, though it took more doing, so I can forgive you. I doubt you've forgiven yourselves yet, though, or you would have gone home already."
Uneasy mutters circled the long table. Deliberately, Linda turned her back on the men who'd let her down, her hooves clopping loudly on the wooden floor as she walked to the bar, smiling at the nervous-looking barmaid as she fished a silver coin out of a bag. "Do you have wine?"
The barmaid nodded.
"Wine for the lady," Linda said, jerking her thumb to point back at Julie. "And a generous tankard of a nice dark beer for myself."
The barmaid frowned. "Our ale is nice, but not dark," she said. "We make it with good clean water, ma'am. Would that do?"
"Fine. Yes, a tankard of ale." Linda shook her head. Just her luck to land in a world where stouts hadn't been invented. When the barmaid returned with a full tankard, Linda grabbed her arm. "Do you have rooms?"
The barmaid glanced at the long table. "The common room will be crowded tonight. We've a private room to let upstairs, but… you would need to stay in the stable."
"That's fine," Linda said, sipping. The ale wasn't bad. "My servant is out making arrangements for three stalls with your stableboy. He's a healthy blacksmith's lad, he'll probably need a tankard himself. Him and the twins." As she heard the sound of the swinging doors creaking and knocking shut together, she nodded. "That should be them."
"Uh…" The barmaid seemed skeptical. "You said twins?"
Linda turned. The short ugly mini-George – Anthony, Linda corrected herself – was in the lead, followed by the ethereally-beautiful elven enchantress – Addison, Linda reminded herself. Finnegan, a bit larger than both of the twins put together, stood behind them, unstrung bow strapped across his back.
"The elf and the dwarf. It's complicated," Linda said. "Don't worry about it. They should be fine sharing a room while we rest and recuperate. If they aren't, the elf can sleep in the stable with us while the boys take the room."
The barmaid shook her head. "There've been a lot of weird people in and out the last two weeks," she said. "Some calling themselves great heroes. No idea why."
Linda sipped from her tankard, tapping her front left hoof thoughtfully. "Well, if it comes to it, I might have use for some so-called heroes. There were some hobgoblins in charge of the goblins those men ran from. I'm minded to plan out how take the fight to them next time once we've rested and recovered from the last battle." She jerked her head in the direction of the long table full of sullen men. "And that will mean putting together help. I hired them for help before, but, well, you heard what happened. They panicked and ran. You run into any of those odd strangers in the next few days…" Linda paused. "Tell them I've an important quest that will involve a lot of experience."
"A great errand that will allow them much practice?" The barmaid nodded, adjusting her bodice and running a hand quickly through her hair. "I can do that."
Linda shook her head, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper . "Between you and me, I think I know where your strange people are coming from," she said. "If I'm right, the words 'quest' and 'experience' will focus their attention smartly. It means something else over there."
The barmaid leaned forward, draping herself halfway over the bar, and whispered back. "Are they cultists of some kind?"
Linda's gaze dropped down away from the barmaid's gaze. "Uh," she said, licking her lips. Then her eyes flicked back up to meet the barmaid's. "I don't think so, though I wouldn't swear none of them belong to a cult. You get all kinds in big cities."
----------------------------------------
"Dwarf!"
"Goblins!"
Donna looked up from the clay tablet in her hand. "Stop!" she shouted, quickly but gently setting it down and scrambling to her feet. Her fingers darted into the second belt pouch she'd rigged up. Pinch of chalk. Pinch of lampblack. Pinch of vermilion. She swiped it over her forehead, gesticulating wildly.
The dwarf with a strangely familiar face that Donna couldn't quite place stood by the tunnel entrance, swirling a sling overhead; two dogs growled as they stood in front of the dwarf protectively. A familiar-looking human male was standing in the tunnel, sword and shield at the ready – Jacob.
Your Charisma score is now temporarily (16+2d4)=22. (Reaction adjustment +11.)
Donna felt glad she'd mastered Liam's "useless" spell as every eye in the cavern turned on her in adoration. "Nobody kills anybody! Put the weapons down!"
"Donna?" The dwarf's sling slowed. The feminine voice emitted from beneath the long gray flowing facial locks of the dwarf snapped everything into place.
"Everybody, this is my friend Angela, my grandson's friend Jacob, and… uh…" She gestured at the halfling stepping into view.
"Dylan, milady," the halfling said, bowing very low and doffing his leather cap. "If I may humbly entreat…"
"Anyway, everybody put all the weapons away. You too, Tallboy and Shortie. Uh, Shirley, I mean." Donna said.
"Mother of demons, you may call me Shorty if you wish," the short goblin said, sheepishly putting back the empty roasting spit he'd grabbed from the now-cold large firepit. "It's just that… they drove us from our other home, the worse cave."
"All a misunderstanding, I'm sure," Donna said brightly. "Angela loves hunting dark elves. She was probably expecting to run into dark elves just now, in fact, wasn't she?"
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Angela sheepishly nodded her head. "I should have, anyway," she said. "We found a dead one lower down, and where there's one, there's always a hundred more somewhere."
"Besides," Donna said. "It's all worked out for the better, anyway – this is the cave you'd rather live in anyway, isn't it? And we've plenty of food to share with our guests."
"I have some beer I could share," Angela said brightly. "I got more Dragon's Milk."
A smiled flickered across Donna's face; she could hear many curious and excited whispers from the goblins.
"We miss smart leader," the tall goblin said. "Dwarf kill smart leader."
"And it's tragic. But it's water under the bridge. I'm your leader now. Am I smart?" Donna asked, putting her hands on her hips demandingly.
"Yes, Donna," the tall goblin said. "Donna smart and powerful. Better leader."
"Thank you," Donna said. "Now, why don't you make up some plates for our guests. Shirley, you'll want cups, as our guests are graciously sharing some drinks with us." She watched as Angela lifted a five gallon keg casually with one hand. "With the assistance of the mighty Angela, my little friends, I can soon bring you justice for all the troubles you've experienced lately. And riches!"
----------------------------------------
Angela eyed the passed-out goblins suspiciously. "We could slit their throats," Angela said.
Donna shook her head. "They're really quite loyal and useful. And now we also know they're cheap dates. I bet the ones that got thirds are going to be hating themselves in the morning."
"I can't believe you cast a Friends spell on me," Angela said.
"Got everyone's attention focused pretty hard on me, didn't it?" Donna looked smug. "Now, since you're a dwarf, you've got magic tunnel senses, right?"
Angela nodded. "And a fucking beard. I fucking hate being a dwarf."
"Call them facial locks. They're silky-smooth," Donna said, tugging the facial locks in question with a chuckle. "Okay. There's a hobgoblin fort built into the side of this mountain. I want it."
Angela's eyebrows quirked. "You aren't stronghold level yet, are you? Jesus Christ, you're fast."
Donna cocked her head, closing her eyes for a moment.
Donna had a clever idea that saved the party and has earned 100 bonus experience points.
Status:
Hit points:
8/10
Armor class:
2
Spells memorized:
None
XP:
2599/1250
Donna has leveled up! Rolling 1d6 additional hit points… Donna has gained 5 hit points!
STR
12
Class
Bard
Saves
Normal
DEX
17
Level
3
Death
13
CON
7
THAC0
19
Wand
14
INT
14
XP
2499
Polymorph
12
WIS
11
Next level
5000
Breath Weapon
16
CHA
16
Max hp
15
Spell
15
15 discretionary thieving skill points granted!
Donna smiled, opening her eyes. "Climb walls, please."
Thieving abilities
Bard abilities
Other abilities
Pick Pockets
24%
Influence
Sleep / charm resistance
Detect Noise
39%
Inspire
Infravision
Climb Walls
79%
Countersong
Detect secret doors
Read Languages
8%
Knowledge
Updated status:
Hit points:
13/15
Armor class:
2
Spells memorized:
None
XP:
2599/5000
"Are you leveling up right now?" Angela's eyes widened.
"Yeah," Donna said. "Just hit third level."
Angela shook her head. "I haven't leveled up in fighter or cleric yet."
"Well, that's what you get for multiclass cheese," Donna said teasingly. "But seriously, I think we can take out the hobgoblins, and if we stay in this area, we'll have to deal with the fort sooner or later. I'd rather do it while I still have a bunch of allies."
"Them? They don't look like much," Angela said. "I sent them running earlier."
"You scared the living daylights out of them, they thought there were a lot more of you than that." Donna shook her head. "These red guys used to work for the hobgoblins, and weren't getting paid for it. I bet that we can find an unguarded back entryway into the fort. Liam can just turn invisible twice a week – which is insane, I can see why Frank always said 'no' to deepling PCs, he said there was all kinds of stuff on those deepling random ability tables – and with you helping map the tunnels, he's not going to get lost."
"Hm," Angela said. "Sketch me what you saw of the fort."
Donna smiled. "Ahead of you there," she said, unrolling a piece of fresh dark vellum. "I know it's a little hard to read, but I had the goblins drawing maps of the interior of the fort. I've got pretty solid intel on the outer works on the slope, I just don't know anything about the inner keep that backs against the cliffside."
"Ha." Angela raised her mug up to Donna's to toast her acumen. "Wait a minute, I need a refill. And so do you."
"I don't," Donna said, quickly shaking her head. "I'm a lot more of a lightweight than you are right now. If I drink another one of those, we're not getting any planning done tonight."