However, in the early hours of the next morning the gate guards of the clanhold reported sounds of battle in the woods in front of the gates. The woods being some 300 yards distant no details were clear besides the obvious involvement of goblins (noise wise). In fear of a seige the alarm was sounded, and increasing numbers of sleepy dwarves appeared at the gates, buckling on armour and hurriedly whetting axes with their daggers.
In fact what had happened was a human and goblin observation party (five strong each way) had run into one another unexpectedly, with the advantage to the goblins! The furious combat had gone in favour of the tiny gobbos*, and the humans instantly lost one of their number, with the remainder electing to fall back in surprise after killing one goblin. Meanwhile our PC decided he wasn't going to sit indoors no matter how big an army there was outside, and ventured forth cautiously. His stealthiness was as good as could be expected in the cold morning light, but sadly the goblins aced their initiative check for awareness and must have smelled him. I expect dwarves smell strongly of metal polish and porridge oats.
The goblins immediately had to check for hatred against their natural enemy, and all four stoppped eating the fallen human, and with screams of bestial fury critically failed the cool check. All four took off as fast as they could and comedicaly, the dwarven PC did also. And a fine spectacle I'm sure it was for the other dwarves watching; a handful of whom began moving up with measured tread.
Like an arrow meeting an apple the dwarf punch straight into the goblins. One died almost instantly, but he fell into a spirited combat with the remaining three. In fact one goblin was so apoplectic with rage that for most of the fight he simply stood still waving his mace in the air and cursing a vivid blue streak. The most composed goblin however, poked and prodded with a halberd and kept the dwarf at a distance until, chancing to luck, the dwarf bounded forward and fetched him a hammer to the chin. Then following his momentum he wrapped teh goblin in a bear hug and proceeded to hammer away at his tiny body from behind, swiftly crushing his ribs like a bundle of twigs. The remaining goblin kept striking ineptly at the dwarf and somehow failing to do any serious damage. Then, just when it looked like combat could take forever to finish, the scrum of dwarf warriors bowled everyone over and that was that.
~
After a rest our dwarven PC elected to scout further into the woods, despite his minor injuries, and came upon a curious scene. The remaining human form was clad in far finer clothes than the local humans used, and equipped with a long thin sword, leather jerkin and copper-bossed buckler. His legs and face were both mutilated by hungry goblins. The dwarf looted the corpse with evident pleasure, and was especially pleased with the buckler. He did not, however, manage to draw any appropriate conclusions from this strange newcomer or from teh fact that tracks lead away from the site.
Returning to the clanhold, he found much ferment. The clansire epicly failed his cool check, and passed his leadership check. This meant a determination to strike at the goblins immediately. The changing rationale being the goblins had to know they were here, and action should be swift. Plans were laid, a shorter path found by scouts, and armstaking completed. The older dwarf priest decided it would be best if the young dwarf PC initiate acted as warpriest for the expedition to which end he gave him two magic healing potions, and a number of poultices which he said "Didn't do anything, but calmed people down". His instructions were to avoid using the potions on anyone unless absolutely necessary.
As dusk fell, the expedition set out. At the head were heavily armed and armoured hearthguards. Long chainmail surcoats flapping, nodding waraxes, and iron boots thumping the thin soil resoundingly. Behind them were the youngest clan members, far less well armed and armoured; pothelms, maces, swords, even stone maces. They nervously joked, and got out of step with the remainder. Finally keeping up the rear was the older clan members, or 'stalwarts', with whatever personal wargear they had accumulated in their long lives. Each group numbering ten apiece.
Cutting straight across between clanhold and goblin valley (missing out the route via the village you notice), the party paused only to collect some tree trunks at the PC's instruction, and were immediately spotted by goblin piquets. Entering as they were from the eastern end of the valley they had to come down a steep slope then skirt the edge of the waterfall pool before reaching the western end and crossing. En route they took a handful of arrows, but the goblins' night vision only went 10 yards, and was insufficient to the task. Most arrows fell short or long.
The stream itself posed no obstacle, as the dwarves more or less ignored their makeshift bridge and leapt the stream. The hearthguard and stalwarts reformed in a disciplined fashion on the far (goblin) bank, but the youngsters charged pell mell into combat with the goblins on the poolside. Our PC seemed reluctant to make any move while all this happened so he was able to observe the youngsters making little headway against the equal number of goblins (aided by the goblins failing their hatred check and gaining benefits to their stats). The hearthguard wheeled across the main cave mouth and despite taking occasional arrows, their heavy armour and long shields prevented any serious harm.
The goblins on the shore seemed blessed by whatever gods they worshipped, and badly wounded one youngster, hacking off his ear, which prompted the stalwarts to cease spectating and pile in. Although this still failed to translate into goblin casualties, and our dwarf PC was finally moved to pitch in when he saw a gobin and dwarf both crit fail their attack rolls and fall over in the shallow water. Locked in a wrestling match which seemed sure to drown both. He charged, and after two attempts landed a stunning blow on the goblin, whose original opponent capitalised on the intrusion by headbutting him, and throwing him under. Our PC joined in further by stamping repeatedly on the goblin's birdlike skull, and glancing around.
As the dwarf PC did so, he saw two goblin critical successes in swift order. Groups of three goblins 'marx brother'ing first a stalwart then a youngster. Frontal attacks, combined with flanking attacks, and ending with a third goblin rousting from behind. These casualties seemed to galvanise the dwarves, however, and the combat on the shore finished brutally but swiftly.
~
Recovering his composure, and pulling river weed off his chainmail, our dwarf PC moved up to the hearthguard who - seeing their rear was secure - were forcing a passage into the cavemouth. Only one dwarf wide, the crack in the cliff face was streaming with meltwater, but the goblins were no match for the dedicated tunnel fighter leading the push, and fell back in disarray.
Fortunately for the dwarves, our PC spotted the fact that the main fissure had an offshoot at knee height on the right. A low, wide tunnel. Peering in, he narrowly missed a thrown iron dart, and to cut a long tangled mess short convinced those behind to block off and guard the side tunnel. Which was just as well, since there were some 20 goblins in there, all waiting to counter-attack. He moved up to catch up the hearthguard, and completely missed the success of his 'whack a mole' plan. Driven wild with hatred, several clumps of goblins burst forth, and were calmly and efficiently minced by three stalwarts.
The dwarf knew nothing of this, as he moved up, passing what he correctly decided was an empty fissure to the left, and emerging into a very large chamber, the near side of which was a sort of beach, clotted with stones, bones, and goblin dung. On the beach the hearthguard were in the process of finishing off the unfortunate goblins still in this part of the caves. A process which concluded, lead naturally on to a search of the area. A search which our PC joined in with, once a critically wounded dwarf had been administered to with a potion. The ption itself not doing a great deal of good, as the wounded dwarf coughed much of it up and over himself, but still left him able to walk away to the surface.
During the course of this search, with dwarves moving quietly around the beach and checking the walls, ceiling, and far side for tunnels, traps etc, a number of black orcs lumbered out from the water, blinking and regaining their breath. Both sides proceeded to fail THREE awareness checks, so they were well intermingled before our dwarf turned to the dwarf next to him and discovered he was an orc! The orc likewise passed his awareness but having less initiative managed to get in only one hefty cut to the PC's right arm before succumbing to double hammer blows to his knee which took it clean off. Our PC in turn was only saved by his good fortune in possessing both chainmail and an iron gauntlet on his right hand. But he was down to only two wounds.
Looking around, he was just in time to see the clansire trip backwards and fall into the water. A great shape swinging repeatedly at him with a spiked mace, and obviously connecting. Our dwarf charged in an effort to save him, but didn't quite make it, leaving the clansire to suffer another crushing blow to his face. Disaster would have been inevitable had the PC not criticalled with both attack and damage and delivered a total of 28 wounds (four times the average total for most humanoids) to the creature's backside. Swinging downwards, the orcs must have been astonished at the crucial moment to receive a blinding pain in his lower spine, and to be catapulted forward, arse over tit, to land upside down forehead first on a hard rock, further injuring himself, and then to collapse into the pool, inhaling a copious quantity of filthy water and begin drowning. The clansire noticed this, and sitting upright managed a gaptoothed bloody grin, extending a hand for assistance, which was rendered.
Meanwhile the five remaining orcs (who were the regular not larger black variety) were still fighting the remaining hearthguard. Two fell, one decapitated. But with the clansire and PC joining in, the fight ended quickly, as they concentrated on outnumbering one orc at a time.
A hard silence fell in the darkness, and all eyes hunted about for further signs of orc. But a complete stillness correctly lead them to realise none were coming. In fact more might have arrived, but they critically failed their leadership rolls, and refused to venture forth - more on this later. Now, the dwarves were fairly scattered about, and had taken several casualties. A force of humans would be pretty shaky round about now, but I decided these were tunnel fighters and must have some system for rallying and reforming underground. The clansire therefore shouted 'sing out', and each dwarf joined in a great bassy rumbling song. A sort of close harmony war dirge, the clansire listening intently for missing notes, while the song rose and fell.
Satisfied, but saddened the clansire decided to fall back, announcing both those missing, and the situation of all [presumably casualties are evidenced by missing notes, and the differing melodic strands of music denote what tactical position the dwarves are in at the time of singing, while the echoes themselves help denote layout of the caves/tunnels]. Apart from the main cave there was only a side fissure/larder that was empty, and the small side tunnel containing an unclear number of panicky goblins. However, the PC failed his intelligence by only one point and knew he was missing something crucial about the main cavern. He tried several times to get it, needing to pass his leadership check to maintain a guard around him while he did so. Then on his last chance he took a goblin spear and began probing the water. he ffinally realised that the water was not shallow throughout, but a slope ran clearly towards the far wall, and there might well be more caverns beyond the water.
Unfortunately, this revelation failed to impress the clansire who was in a foul temper, having had much of his face bashed in, and having lost a total of six clan members, including two hearthguards. So irate was he that he refused to listen, instead insisting, griefstricken, on the PC - who was a priestly initiate - on him anointing and seeing to the fallen. So much so that he had to be pointedly reminded that the wounded were a more pressing task. A point which proved fortuitous as by dint of another magic potion.
Not wishing to leave any alive, parties of dwarves piled wood into the caves, and into the side tunnel, and made sure all were blazing before retreating back to the clanhold. The goblins, penned up in their sleeping burrow, and unable to escape, died frantically, choked by smoke and starved of air. Though none would feel very sorry for them had they thought much about it.
~
Arrival at the dwarfhold was victorious tinged with sadness. They had won, but at a tremendous price for so lean an enemy. Five dead of a party of thirty, and a total dwarf population of barely 200. Two of whom were exalted hearthguards.
Our dwarf PC was tired, and bloody, but anxious families and a commanding priestly superior, meant he had to remain awak until teh morning, striupping, washing, and presiding over the resting corpses in the chapel, before getting an hour's sleep, only to be awakened at dawn to organise the preparation of the funeral biers above ground. So that the ashes and smoke could send the dead into the pitiless heavens.
Greatly subdued, and aching from his wounds, a long sleep found the dwarf still angry and unsure of himself. He'd accumulated 200 xp by now, and after much consideration, and talking to the priest, he elected to sit the vigil to see if his god would call him to fuller service as an actual cleric. a vigil in the familiar small chapel, surrounded by the smells and memories of the recent dead. A contrast of innocent youthful memories, and hard recent ones. Ambition and glory juxtaposed by disaster and lamentation.
I considered how he'd been killing a lot of goblins, tending to the wounded, and how he was an orphan come to the church. I also listened to his 'thoughts' during the vigil (as described by the player) - which were less impressive and full of doubt. This all translated into a roll on the 'priest progression table' plus ten percent. A roll which ended up quite sensibly with Grungni (his god) telling him absolutely bugger all. No message was forthcoming. A fact painfully underlined by the knowing look he received from the priest who hand fell gently but painfully on his shoulder at dawn.
Sitting a vigil costs 100 xp, so the PC was doubly annoyed, and played the disappointment wonderfully. Going immediately to the refectory, eating some burgoo and storming outside to get some fresh air. Which for a dwarf is the equivalent of mooching down to the basement or the local graveyard. However, once outside, a lucky roll - justified by his sharpened concentrated mind, and the sight of snow melting on the pine trees - bore a revelation. The cave they had come from, though underwater, might not always be underwater. In fact it was likely that the flooded area would drain away in a matter of weeks or months. The emerging goblins and orcs had likely come from a larger network, swimming underwater, evidenced by their light armour and other wargear! Who knew how many were on the other side.
The dwarf dashed imediately to the clansire's chambers, where the old dwarf was reviwing plans from his chief engineer to extend tunnels into the area of the goblin caves to extract the harder rock and search for metals [ of which they had none in this area save a little copper]. Unfortunately for the clanhold, our dwarf loused up both his intelligence and leadership stats, and offended both clansire and engineer by improper address. They refused to listen and told him to get out, upbraiding him for his impertinence.
The session ended with one furious dwarf pondering his options...
*Throughout this period the goblins seemed blessed by the most amazing luck. This just underscores the importance of playing the dice as they fall. It made for a much more interesting story.