Everything hurts… In 300 years of living I have never endured such injury. The goblin tunnels were far more perilous than we could have possibly guessed. It is only by the grace of Providence or perhaps some fiercer Power that I record it thus today. -
We were discovered in the tunnels and with little time to decide, we retreated from the clamoring din fast approaching us. We were pursued by goblins and hobgoblins of every foul description. Being naturally more fleet of foot, I reached the previous chamber with young Able not far behind. Without a word we overturned the large table, and pushed it to the facing hallway as a bulwark. Knowing goblins to be impressionable and fearful of great light, I set the table to flame as an added deterrent. Adrian and Asher surmounted the cover quickly and prepared to fight for our lives. Adrian used his bow at volley down the narrow hallway, and the bottleneck allowed for cunning placement of Colorspray spells by myself, subduing the horde en masse. As Asher used his polearm to great effect (illuminated by my own spells for vision aid), repelling any villains who closed the gap over the table, young Able delivered precise magic missiles and later throwing knives with such lethality I must assume he has had several years of practice in dealing death. Tragic for a child to have grown thus, and yet noble that he would risk all for his townsfolk. I had exhausted my arcane power and had resorted to my own archery when I was smote upon the breast by a quarrel from one of our assailants. I had lost consciousness from the blood loss and it was only from the combined efforts of Adrian and Asher that I did not die at that moment in those dark tunnels. -
When I regained consciousness, I found that the battle still raged around me. Flames had leapt up from behind us in brush, trapping us in the chamber utterly. The inferno we had started had spread even to the bodies of our foes as we slew them. A gasping putrid smoke filled the tunnel, as the last of our attackers were cut down at last. It would not be an exaggeration to say we should have died in that chamber, but for some unseen fortune seeing us through. -
As we recuperated, I discovered a ring of keys upon one of the now dead hobgoblins, and investigating down a corridor, located a series of cells, filled with a husband and wife whom Adrien had known from his travels, grateful to be alive, and what would appear to be much of the supplies stolen from Malatin and the surrounding homesteads. At that moment we were approached by a Bugbear, a wretched, muscled brute with a morningstar who craved our attention. My wound remained fresh, and as severe as it was, I could not concentrate on spell casting. This contest would have to be settled with bitter steel. Asher, Adrian and I surrounded and slew the monster in short order. Such is the benefit of strategy AND numbers. -
I was alerted to more commotion as Adrian, scouting ahead again had run afoul of even more hobgoblins and a Bugbear, goliath in stature, adorned with a fell headdress of some kind. I doubted retreat would be feasible for us, as the injuries we had sustained would slow us perilously. I illuminated an arrow and delivered it to the shoulder of the creature, so as to enable ourselves to repel them in the bleak corridor, as the dragonborn and I faced the hobgoblins in tandem, Asher delivered such a blow upon the great creature that it clove his skull in twain. -
We had discovered the headdress to be some artifact of Calisto’s following. A cult of woe and domination, to hear my people retell it. Investigating further downwards into the tunnels we found captured thralls, what looked to be Chundans pressed into labor mining and forging crude weapons in bulk. Enough to equip an army… Suddenly we heard a wonderful noise; a hateful deluge of profanity echoing from another chamber. At last!! We had found Durin. Our search had thankfully not been in vain. The dwarven smith in fact was in no poor health, as he had nearly torn free from his bonds as I produced the keys to his cell. Spectacular… -
Deciding to retreat in order to heal our wounds and secure our rescued prisoners, we regrouped with the division from Malatin that Lord Eldos had sent to aid our mission. Truly we have been blessed to survive thi excursion. I suspect I shall carry the scar from that arrow for the rest of my life. I shall be loath to ever go underground again. Elves belong beneath the Sun and the Stars, much like my Familiar. It honestly still pains me. I shall have to seek out a healer to ensure this wound does not fester, or worse, continue to affect my magic. -
As we debriefed ourselves of the enemy’s tactics and movement, we would prepare to obliterate the raiders who attacked Malatin once and for all!