I guess the best place to start is the beginning, and by that, somewhere in the middle.
Krogg and I were on our way to see Old Yupa, some kind of oracle. He lives in the ruins of Antariel by Waterdeep and we had called it a day at a tavern.
It was full of the usual crowd of humans drinking their pay away, but some oddities too. An elf who looked like he was inside for the first time in a century, a dwarf who could have been mistaken for a slab of iron, and a minstrel who picked up his lute skills from a goblin.
I’m guessing the minstrel didn’t pay for his lessons, for we were soon interrupted by small raiding party of the little buggers.
Now normally I would be writing about how I heroically saved the townsfolk, but I was already a stein or two deep in triple mead and my sense of balance wasn’t at 100%. Instead of leaping onto a table and saving the minstrel, I slipped off the table and end up scorching the tavern wall with a poorly aimed spell. The minstrel probably would have been grateful, had he survived the encounter.
I missed the rest of the fight, but Krogg tells me he killed all the goblins, and that seems reasonable enough for me.
Oh, I forgot to mention the tiefling I found under the table, making that booth the densest tiefling population for 100 miles.
Now getting interrupted my goblins isn’t something i take lightly, and I needed to have a word with the barkeep, Tarragon. I wasn’t the only one who needed answers; the elf and the dwarf were keenly interested in why the tavern wasn’t defended.
According to Targon, most of the able bodied people had headed off to Waterdeep leaving the village undefined from the increasingly bold goblins.
I believe that there is no person too small to owe you a favor, so I said I would take care of the goblins. I managed to flex my new title to convince the dwarf, who goes by John, to tag along. The elf, Mindartis, figured that we would probably get ourselves lost if he didn’t help. I noticed the other tiefling stealing from the barmaid, so i insisted that she join us. For the good of the town.
The next morning we set off. John took the lead, and promptly got us lost. I set the elf in charge of navigation, who seemed more entertained by the tress than making sure we got to the caves by the lake.
As soon as we got there Orianna, the tiefling thief, went right inside the cave. As fate would have it, she triggered a trap, hopefully teaching her a lesson. Exploring the cave, John managed to find a door deeper into the goblin hideout.
Our group was still getting to know each other and I could tell that there was some mistrust. We needed a leader, so I lead the group into the tunnel. Krogg took up the rear making sure that no one chickened out.
The next room was empty, which was a shame because I was itching to make up for my accident last night. My Patron had other ideas though. Instead of earning some respect with a good show of force I managed to inhale a large quantity of toxic spores.
I passed out, but Krogg says he saved me, and judging by which I think is a cracked rib, I believe him.