Trying something new this week. I’ve collected the full events of Day 10 (approximately four days of playing) into this update. Next week, I’ll post Day 11 as well as whatever I’ve done over the course of the week. For now, I’m foregoing any indicated dungeons, as I’m a bit burnt out on dungeons at the moment. If you want to know what’s happening beyond the weekly updates, check out my Notes section!
I am considering putting out my quick references for Folly on my itch page (for free until I complete the game manual). They aren’t enough to necessarily play the full experience, but they do provide enough that you could reasonably run a short game. I’ll include a link to that in next week’s update if I decide to go ahead with it.
Day 10a, Summer 16
Climate: — > underground
Weather: — > underground
Travel Check: no check, tunnel travel
Point of Interest: [D6 = 1] indicated…
The companions awoke to the guttural tones of goblin speech. Tara reached for her sword, survival instinct and distrust activating in equal measures. Minerva, sleeping above her, swung down and placed a hand on her tense friend’s arm. A large goblin, with white scars crisscrossing her dark green skin, was warming her large hands by the firestone and talking with Bonecrow.
“Ah, you are awake.” Bonecrow addressed the two in common. “This is Windscar, one of our mightiest trölðorkh. She has reported the discovery of a previously unknown passage leading deep into the heart of the earth. The soulless ones have been spotted moving through the passage.”
“Stands to reason that the source of our problems is somewhere down that passage,” Minerva observed.
“Precisely,” Bonecrow rumbled. “When we are ready to depart, Windscar will guide us to the entrance. But it will be up to the four of us to seek out the soulless ones’ source and destroy it.”
“I have a score to settle with those metal balls,” Bargen called from his bunk. “Thanks to Minerva and the night’s rest, I’m feeling well enough to smack around these monsters.”
“You are almost trölðorkh yourself, shepherd,” Bonecrow complimented, smiling at the big shepherd.
“What’s that?”
“The trölðorkh are our elite warriors, scouts, and mages. Only one or two are born every generation. They are bigger, stronger, faster, smarter, than your average goblin. Like Windscar here.”
“And yourself, Battle Master,” Windscar said, her voice deceptively soft for one of such immense size.
“You speak common too?” Minerva asked.
“All trölðorkh learn the common tongue,” Windscar answered. “At least, we have since L’gasha became trölðorkh witcaen.”
“Are there no common translations for…” Minerva asked, trailing off before attempting to pronounce the unfamiliar terms.
“There are not. The humans of old turned our titles of honor into slurs. You have heard of orcs, trolls, and witches?”
“We have,” Tara interjected. “They are monsters from legend. Wicked and grotesque, murderers and flesh-devourers.”
“That is how your kind have always viewed the trölðorkh,” Windscar spat, her voice growing hard. “But that is not the truth. We are honorable warriors and rune mages, scouts and scholars. No different than you, save that we dwell beneath the green grass instead of trampling it beneath our feet.”
“Peace, trölðorkh,” Bonecrow commanded. “This one is suspicious of us. That is her right. Let us be known by our deeds. That is all I request of you.”
Tara, to her credit, nodded in agreement with Boneclaw’s request and said no more.
“Shall we begin?” Minerva asked, hoping to distract the trölðorkh and her friend from further enmity.
“Let us go,” Bonecrow said, and hefted his shield.
Windscar led the company around a bend in the passage and stopped, pointing out a dark tunnel, only wide enough for a single person to walk down at a time. “Our erkhun have marked the soulless ones moving in and out of this tunnel on three different occasions. None have been seen in two days, not since the night before the last major offensive.”
“They must be preparing for a second onslaught,” Tara said.
“The human is right, Battle Master,” Windscar said, though the words seemed to pain her.
“We have little time to waste,” Bonecrow considered. “You three will need torches where there is no light. I can see in the dark, but the torchlight may prove useful in other ways.
[Tara and Bargen light Torches. -1 Torch now at 1 (Tara) and 2 (Bargen)]
“I will lead,” the goblin Battle Master said, stepping into the tunnel. Tara followed, with Minerva in the center and Bargen bringing up the rear.
The passage was not very long, though it sloped down at a considerable angle, and ended at a cracked wall.
“The wall looks weak here,” Tara said over the goblin’s shoulder. “But how could the soulless ones move through this tunnel with no entrance?”
“They are capable of impossible things,” Bonecrow whispered. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they could move through the wall without breaking it.”
“But we can’t.”
“No, but I might be able to force it,” Bonecrow said. “Step back.”
The three companions took several steps back, leaving the wall and Bonecrow shrouded in a dim twilight. The goblin backed up as well, then sprinted full speed at the weakened wall. He hit it shoulder first and the stones shattered in a spray of chunks and dust. The goblin continued running into the room, slowing with each step. The others followed, Tara with her sword already drawn.
Bonecrow, skidding to a stop, drew his axe from his belt and dropped into a combat position. Tara, seeing the three familiar orbs and the strange humanoid figure with metal skin and four glowing red eyes on its otherwise smooth face, moved to attack the closest enemy before they could react to their presence.
Tara moved against the closest orb, swinging her sword with all her might in an overhead cleave. The blade split the metal creature in two, sending a shower of sparks and dust into the air. At the same time, Bonecrow swung his axe at the humanoid figure, its bronze blade grinding into the metallic skin of the creature but doing very little damage.
Bargen, seeing that battle had been joined, rushed into the room, dropping his sputtering torch to the stony ground, and shoved his spear into one of the surviving orbs. The spearhead punctured the metal skin, and left a smoking, sparking hole in the still upright and active orb. Minerva, steeling herself against her previous failure, drew out the sapphire rune and spoke the command: “Astarēvë.”
Lightning erupted from the rune, illuminating the entire chamber in a bright blue-white glow. The bolts of energy struck out at all three of the surviving creatures, slamming into them with immense force. Their metal bodies sparked and sizzled as the currents of energy overloaded their internal workings. The two active orbs’ red eyes sputtered and went dark. They rolled backward and smoke poured out in white billows. The metal humanoid, likewise, was overwhelmed by the force of Minerva’s casting, sending it rocking backward. Its four baleful eyes flickered as its internals were severely damaged.
Bonecrow, seizing the opportunity, leapt forward, bringing his bronze axe down with a ferocious growl. The axe bit into the steel skull of the creature, opening a wicked, jagged gash in the smooth metal. Its eyes flickered once more and turned dark as it fell. Bonecrow rode it to the ground, roaring in triumph.
[Table: Passage: 2D6 = 5, 20’ straight to dead end (weak wall to room)]
[Bonecrow attempts to break through the wall: 2D6+2VIG vs 8 = 9, success]
[Table: Room Size: 2D6 = 8, 10’x10’ square]
[Table: Room Function: 2D6 = 9, denizen brute and 3 (D6) minions]
[Enemy Surprise?: D6/D = 1, 2 > 1, yes > Company will get two turns before the foes move]
[Tara attacks with her sword: D6 = 6+1VIG-1Armor = 6 damage, target is down]
[Target: D6 = 2, Soulless One 2]
[Bonecrow attacks with his axe: D6/A = 1, 3 > 3+2VIG-2Armor-1 vs Ancient Constructs = 2 damage]
[Target: D6 = 5, Soulless One Leader, now at 9 durability]
[Bargen rushes in and attacks with his spear: D6/A = 1, 1 > 1+2VIG-1Armor = 2 damage]
[Target: D6 = 2, Soulless One #1, now at 3 durability]
[Minerva moves into the room, attempts to cast Lightning Bolt: 2D6+2ACU vs 10 = 11, success]
[Minerva casts Lightning Bolt on 5 (D6 > all) targets: D6+2ACU vs SO#1 = 4 damage, now down; D6+2ACU vs SO#3 = 3 damage, now down; D6+ACU vs SOLead = 8 damage, now at 1 durability]
[Bonecrow attempts to finish off SOLead with axe: D6/A = 6, 2 > 6+2VIG-1Armor-1 vs Ancient Construct = 6 damage, now down]
Bonecrow bent down and hefted the steel warhammer the metallic humanoid was wielding. It was lighter than he expected, and he looked at the others before asking Minerva: “May I take this as a spoil of war?”
“You do not need to ask me, Bonecrow.”
“But I do, scholar. You dealt the most damage to our foes. The first spoil, by the code of my folk, by rights belongs to you.”
“I do not need a hammer, friend.”
“You have my thanks…friend.”
Minerva smiled at the goblin, then turned her attention to the stone statue taking up the center of the small chamber. It was made of what she believed to be marble, or something similar, and depicted a well-muscled female figure in a flowing robe or dress. Her large eyes seemed to follow the scholar as she moved around the base of the statue, but it was the odd hair that garnered most of Minerva’s attention. She stood on her toes to get a closer look, motioning for Bargen to bring his torch closer.
“It’s not hair at all,” she muttered to herself. “These are the legs of a polypod. But why does she have polypod legs instead of hair?”
“Perhaps it represents the creator of these metal monstrosities?” Bargen offered.
“Perhaps. But I cannot tell from this one specimen. We may yet find more evidence as we move forward.”
Tara screamed and a gout of green particles erupted from a chest partially concealed in the corner of the room. The guide grabbed her throat and began to choke, struggling to breathe. Boneclaw rushed to her, covering his mouth and nose with the leather from his cloak, and pulled Tara out of the toxic air.
“She’s been poisoned!” the goblin called. “Does anyone have an anti-toxin?”
Minerva rushed to her friend’s side. Tara continued to gag and choke, holding her throat. The scholar reached into her pouch and pulled out the Restore Rune. She spoke the command, and touched Tara’s shoulder. The golden glow suffused her, radiating down into her chest and up through her neck. The guide’s open mouth even emitted a golden glow as the magic purged the poison from her system.
After a moment, Tara spat onto the ground and coughed. “Thank you,” she said to Minerva, and then wrapped her companion in a tight hug. “You saved my life.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Tara.”
“Nor I you, Min.”
Minerva giggled. “I like that.”
Bonecrow cleared his throat. “I am glad you are unharmed.”
“Thank you, as well, Bonecrow. Your quick thinking probably saved me from inhaling more of that toxic smoke.”
“You are welcome. We take care of our folk in the field. Goblin or human, it makes no difference.”
Tara stretched out her hand and the goblin grasped it. They gave each other an appraising look, and then Tara smiled up at the big green warrior.
“I think we can safely open the chest now,” Bonecrow informed the guide as they grasped hands. “Would you like the honors?”
Tara laughed, the sound bordering on panic, but then she took a deep breath and rose to her feet. “I think I have earned it.”
She opened the chest’s metal lid and looked inside. Resting on a pillow of soft fabric, she discovered a simple silver diadem, embossed with gems of various hues and colors. She picked it up and gazed at it in the torchlight. The gems caught the light and refracted it against the chamber walls in a rainbow of lights.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Expert craftsmanship too,” Bonecrow observed. “But its not goblin-make. Nor human if I had to wager.”
“The metal seems to be similar to the skin of these things,” Tara said. “But lighter, and more lustrous.”
“Something tells me we may have need of this later,” Minerva said, looking thoughtfully at the diadem. “We should take it with us.”
Tara nodded and slipped the crown into her field pack and then the three companions followed Bonecrow to the room’s single exit.
[Point of Interest discovered. Table: Dungeon Dressing: 2D6 = 3, statue]
[Minerva investigates the statue: 2D6+2ACU vs 8 = 7, fail]
[Oracle: Is there anything else of value in the room? D6 = 4, yes]
[Tara searches the rest of the room: 2D6+2FIN+1Skilled vs 8 = 2, critical failure]
[Oracle: Does Bonecrow have anything to help Tara? D6 = 3, no]
[Oracle: Is what is in the chest treasure? D6 = 4, yes]
[Minerva attempts to cast Restore: 2D6+2ACU vs 6 = 12, success]
[Minerva casts Restore and cures the poison]
[Tara finds a relic diadem with a value of 400 (3D6x50) Silver]
[XP Gained: All participants gain 40xp x3 (120xp) for the soulless ones and 80xp for the leader as well as 10xp for discovering a Point of Interest = 210xp/each]
[Exploration Turn 1 complete: Do Torches degrade? D6 = 5, no. Torches will continue to burn for at least 5 more turns]
Day 10b, Summer 16
The corridor leading out of the statue room led to a crossroads. Bonecrow stopped and turned to face the humans.
“Which way?” the warrior asked.
Minerva considered the two routes carefully, seeking any signs that might lead them to the source of the soulless ones. Finally, she looked up and said, “We go right. The ground is smooth there, as if traveled more frequently.”
“When did you become such a skilled tracker?” Tara joked, poking Minerva in the ribs.
The scholar laughed, and retorted, “Only from the best.”
Bonecrow and Bargen grunted at almost the same time, making the women’s smiles broaden.
“Right it is,” the warrior rumbled and turned down the smoothed passage.
A short distance down the rough-hewn tunnel, Bonecrow once again called a halt. To the left was a wooden door reinforced with iron and to the right, the wall gave way to a seemingly empty room. The goblin hesitated a moment, then turned right and peeked into the room.
It was much like the previous chamber they found, save this one contained nothing but another of the strange stone statues. Confident that there was no danger within, the goblin led the companions inside.
As Tara stepped through the opening, a crimson blob launched itself from the ceiling. The creature made a squelching sound as it released its perch on the rocky ceiling, and Tara just managed to look up as it slammed into her head and shoulders. She screamed, but the viscous ooze only slithered into her mouth, stopping up her airway.
“What the hell is that!” Bargen yelled, pushing past Minerva.
“Don’t touch it!” Bonecrow commanded, stepping forward. “Devourers are corrosive. The only way to kill it is with fire or loud noise.”
“How loud?” Minerva asked, frantic.
“Extremely. Louder than anything we can make. Fire is the only way. But it will burn her.”
“She’ll die otherwise,” Bargen roared. “Hold her!”
Minerva grabbed one of Tara’s flailing hands and Bonecrow grasped the other. Bargen, wincing with each movement, pushed his torch into the crimson blob. It sizzled and popped as the fire burned away the corrosive flesh. The devourer burned, its red body dissipating as the fire raced across it. Tara, likewise, burned—both from the corrosive touch of the devourer and the flame of the torch. She struggled against her friends, trying desperately to free herself from the pain. Finally, as the last bits of corrosive ooze burned away, Tara passed out from the intensity of the pain.
“Will she live?” Bargen asked the goblin.
“I do not know,” he answered honestly. “But she is strong, and in good health. I have hope that she will survive. But I should warn you, she will not come through this unchanged.”
“What do you mean?” Minerva asked, looking up from where she cradled her friend on the ground.
“The oozing devourer is corrosive. It eats away at everything it touches—including skin and hair. The hair might grow back, with time. The skin will remain inflamed for many days and may never recover fully.”
“Let us rest here for a bit,” Minerva said, distracted. “At least until she wakes up.”
“There isn’t time,” Bonecrow said, trying not to sound impatient.
“She is unconscious. Are we going to carry her?”
Bonecrow stared hard at Minerva before he relented. “You’re right. That will only make things more difficult. Stay here. The shepherd and I will investigate the door across the tunnel.”
“Be careful, Bonecrow. Bargen,” Minerva called as the two walked back into the tunnel.
[Table: Passage: 2D6 = 6, 15’ straight to T-junction]
[Minerva analyzes the tunnels: 2D6+2ACU vs 8 = 8, success]
[Direction: D6 = 6, right]
[Table: Passage: 2D6 = 10, 10’ straight, door on left, room on right]
[Table: Door Type: 2D6 = 1, Ironbound]
[Table: Room: 2D6 = 9, 15’x15’ square]
[Table: Room Function: 2D6 = 7, empty room (trapped)]
[Table: Trap/Hazard: 2D6 = 6, oozing devourer]
[Target: D6 = 3, Tara]
[Can Tara notice it in time to dodge? 2D6+2FIN+1Skilled vs 10 = 11, yes]
[Tara attempts to dodge the oozing devourer: 2D6+2FIN+1Skilled vs 10 = 8, fail]
[Tara loses 2 Durability permanently. Maximum durability decreases from 11 to 9]
Day 10c, Summer 16
Minerva sat with Tara’s inflamed and scarred head resting in her lap. The guide, who’s black hair was now mere wisps on her corroded scalp, was fitful. She jerked and flailed as if having a nightmare or experiencing intense pain. Minerva tried to calm her, using the water from her skin to try to cool the burnt skin. This seemed to settle Tara a bit after a time.
Sometime later, Minerva was awoken by a hoarse voice calling her name. She looked down to see Tara’s eyes open, if still unfocused and watery.
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed, resisting the urge to gather the injured woman into a tight embrace. “I was so worried.”
“What happened, Min?” Tara asked quietly.
“Some kind of ooze creature. It fell on you from the ceiling. Bonecrow and Bargen saved you.”
“Where are they? I would…” a rough cough interrupted her question.
“They left a while back to continue exploring. Bonecrow is concerned there isn’t much time,” Minerva replied, washing the guide’s face with more cool water. “You won’t be able to continue for some time, I suspect.”
“Why does my head itch so bad?” Tara asked and reached up to scratch the peeling skin of her scalp. Her face morphed from discomfort to pure shock in a matter of breaths as she realized that her hair was all but gone. “My hair’s gone?”
“The ooze,” Minerva answered, compassion in her green eyes. “Boneclaw said it was corrosive. It would have eaten through your skin and bone if Boneclaw and Bargen hadn’t acted quickly.”
“How…bad is it?”
“You won’t have to worry about washing your hair for a while,” Minerva said, smiling gently. “But its not so bad. Gives you a rakish look.”
“I’m hideous aren’t I.”
Minerva stretched out a hand and caressed the scarred cheek of her friend, before replying. “You could never be hideous, Tara.”
Tara reached up and took Minerva’s hand, squeezing it weakly. “I am so tired.”
“Rest. That’s the best thing for you. I’m going to look around this room and keep watch.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“Never,” Minerva replied, her voice husky with emotion. “Not ever, I swear to you.”
As Tara drifted off to sleep again, the scholar began to investigate the empty room. She held Tara’s torch aloft, checking the rough ceiling for more of the oozing devourers. After a thorough search, Minerva was certain that only one of the crimson creatures called this room its home. This gave her the confidence she needed to truly inspect the room.
“It really is as empty as it looks,” she muttered to herself and moved over to the base of the stone statue.
She held the torch aloft, scanning the surface of the stone’s base, and then each segment of its well-sculpted body, for signs of anything important or useful. She could make out what she thought to be the marks of the sculptor’s tools in the uneven surface of the statue’s thighs, and even found what she suspected to be a maker’s mark etched into the rear of the base. When she climbed atop the base and held the torch high to illuminate the statue’s strange, polypod legged head, she discovered that this statue was not quite identical to the first one they encountered.
This statue’s head, still adorned with the eight polypod legs—the precision of the details in the legs’ suction cups astounded the scholar—also sported a thin groove that ran around the crown of the creature’s head.
“The crown,” she said aloud, almost tumbling off of the base in her haste to get the crown from Tara’s bag.
She raced back to the statue and climbed up the base, precariously balancing on toe tips with the torch in one hand and the crown poised between her thumb and index finger. Slowly, almost reverently, she settled the diadem into the groove. The gems on the crown flared with an internal light, and the statue began to move.
Minerva lost her balance and tumbled backward, landing roughly on her backside. She scrambled back from the statue as its stone arms changed position and the head turned toward her.
“Who are you?” the statue spoke, its voice rich and breathy. “You do not look like those who made me.”
“I’m a scholar,” Minerva answered, fear and curiosity warring in her mind. “I study ancient artifacts and Runes.”
“Ancient? Why I was sculpted mere cycles ago.”
“Are you certain? These tunnels have been abandoned for the last few generations, according to the histories of the people who dwell here.”
“That cannot be. Bring me a Litophagë, or a Sopistrikon. They will know more than I.”
“I do not recognize these words,” Minerva said, turning the new words over in her mind. “They do sound a bit like the runic spells though. Do you know the word Astarēvë?”
“Astarēvë signifies the bolts of the great god, which he would hurl down from his chariot of clouds to smite his foes. It is one of many cultic myths of the Atalai.”
“Who are the Atalai?”
“The culture who made me. The ones who delved these halls, and who built the great cities above.”
“There are no great cities in the world of Folly. Not for generations upon generations.”
“Who dwells within these sacred halls now, scholar?”
“A clan of goblins.”
The statue’s mouth opened wide and her eyes went wide.
“You recognize that word?”
“Goblin: A possible corruption of the Atalai word for ‘worker’: gorgeblion. The gorgeblion were among the lowest ranks of the Atalai social hierarchy.”
“What did these workers look like? Did you ever see them?”
“All Atalai were tall and lithe of stature, with skin tones ranging from alabaster pale to golden-green. The gorgeblion, due to the conditions of their livelihoods, often possessed gray or green skin without the golden tones.”
“What about teeth?”
“Teeth? All Atalai possess teeth, much like your own I would think. Are you not Atalai yourself?”
“I am human. I’ve never heard of the Atalai.”
“How can this be? They rule this land and have for millennia.”
“Do you know anything about the metal orb creatures?”
“You are changing the subject, human,” the statue chided. “To answer your query, yes. These “orbs” of which you speak were created by the allophagë to guard the sacred places. There are three varieties of construct: the phylion, the lokhion, and the stragë.”
“I’ve only encountered the orbs and one that resembled a man in stature and build.”
“You encountered a stragë as well as phylion.”
“What does the third construct look like?”
“The lokhion are shaped much as the stragë, but lithe of build and fleet of foot. They guard the inner sanctum under the arkhēstragë, the commander of the entire construct army.”
“Where is the inner sanctum?”
“The inner sanctum is further down this tunnel, to the left of the entrance to this room.”
“Is that where the constructs receive their power?”
“The constructs are self-energized, and do not need to be powered. They receive their orders through a central processor linked directly to the arkhēstragë. So long as the arkhēstragë is functional, the constructs will continue to carry out their orders. Now, I have answered many questions. Answer this for me: what happened to the Atalai?”
“I cannot say,” Minerva said, processing the information the intelligent statue gave her. “I have never heard, or read, about the Atalai in all of my extensive studies. The Academy’s records go back only thirty generations, and they do not include a single mention of the Atalai.”
“This is most strange, scholar. But I do not detect falsehood in you. I must go into a resting state now. The mageierga of the diadem has been nearly expended.”
“Thank you for all the information, statue.”
“You are welcome, scholar. You may refer to me as Minerva, for I am made in the likeness and image of the great goddess, and progenitor of the Atalai.”
Minerva stood too stunned to respond as the statue solidified and the gems in the crown ceased to glow. How she could bear the name of an ancient civilization’s goddess, she could not fathom. It was true that her name was one of the more unique among her people, but there had never been an indication that it belonged to a society forgotten to time.
She returned to Tara and sat down, lost in thought.
[Oracle: Are there more oozes? D6/D = 2, 3 > 2, no]
[Minerva inspects the room. 2D6+2ACU vs 8 = 9, success]
[Oracle: Is the room as empty as it appeared? D6/A = 5, 5 > 5, yes]
[Minerva examines the Statue closely. 2D6+2ACU vs 8 = 14, critical success > discover something of importance]
Day 10d, Summer 16
Bonecrow and Bargen left the two women in the statue room and crossed the tunnel to the ironbound door. The two looked at one another, and Bargen readied his spear. Bonecrow, gripping his newly acquired war-hammer, pushed on the it and let it swing open.
The door opened to a short tunnel, its sides smooth and uniform. Bonecrow carried the torch, and let the shepherd lead them down the tunnel until they reached another ironbound door.
“Careful,” Bonecrow admonished.
Bargen nodded and pushed at the door with the tip of his spear. It swung open silently, revealing a square chamber filled with thick dust. On the floor, barely a spear’s length inside was a wounded goblin. The goblin was smaller than Bonecrow or Windscar but was still larger than Gra’zhev or any of the other goblins Bargen saw in the town. The big shepherd stepped into the room and moved aside, allowing Bonecrow room to enter.
“Shadethorn,” the battle-master said quietly, and moved to the downed goblin’s side. He pressed a thick finger to his neck and waited. “He’s alive.”
“This dust,” Bargen observed. “Reminds me of the poison trap Tara set off. Do you think your warrior set off some kind of choking dust trap?”
“It seems likely,” Bonecrow admitted. “Though it is unlike an erkhuna such as Shadethorn to do so.”
“It could be that he was fleeing, or that the trap was well hidden, even from a skilled one such as he.”
“We will ask him when he comes to. In the meantime, should we go further in?”
“This makes two of our people that have been downed by whatever these things are, and the traps they’ve lain. We should take him and Tara back to the field house and return with a larger force.”
“Are you sure you’re not a warrior?” Bonecrow asked, looking with approval on the big man. “You strategize like the best of my trölðorkh.”
“I am only a shepherd, but I appreciate the sentiment. I will carry…Shadethorn, is that what you called him?”
“Shadethorn, yes. I’ll lead the way back to Minerva.”
Bonecrow led Bargen and his burden back down the tunnel and into the statue room where Minerva was still standing before the stone edifice.
“Minerva,” Bargen called. “How is Tara?”
The scholar jumped but settled when she saw Bonecrow and Bargen. “She is stable, but it will be some time before she’s able to move. Who is that?”
“Shadethorn, one of my erkhuna. We found him in a room on the other side of that door. He’s alive, but unconscious,” Bonecrow informed her.
“I know you want to press on, but we can’t leave either of our companions alone in these tunnels,” Minerva said, preparing to argue with the goblin.
“We will take Tara and Shadethorn back to the field house and I will gather a larger force.”
Minerva, about to retort, stopped and nodded approval. “That will be wise. I have learned a lot while you were away.”
“How’s that?” Bargen asked.
“The statue. When I placed the diadem on its head, it came to life.” She proceeded to relate to them the experience she had with the statue of Minerva, leaving out the bit about their shared name. Bargen was incredulous, but Bonecrow nodded sagely as if he had seen this kind of thing before.
“We will need a much larger force than I anticipated. Take the diadem back with us. L’gasha will want to see it and hear your tale.”
Minerva retrieved the diadem from the statue’s head while Bonecrow doused the torch he was carrying and hefted Tara gently into his arms. Minerva, bearing the torch, led the companions back the way they had come and into the relative safety of the torch-lit goblin tunnels. They took Tara and Shadethorn to the field house and settled them into beds.
“Get some rest,” Bonecrow said to the two humans. “I will go and gather my forces and send a healer and Windscar back to care for the injured.”
Bargen and Minerva sat silently around the firestone, nibbling at hard bread.
[Table: Behind a Door: D6 = 2, 10’ passage to another door]
[Table: Door Status: D6 = 5, unlocked]
[Table: Behind a Door: D6 = 3, room]
[Table: Room: 2D6 = 9, 15’x15’ square]
[Table: Room Function: 2D6 = 5, empty room, NPC]
[Oracle: Is the NPC a wounded goblin? D6 = 6, yes]
[Table: Dungeon Dressing: 2D6 = 11, thick dust]
[Table: Room Exits: 2D6 = 7, 1 exit]
[Table: Room Exit Type: 2D6 = 12, 15’ passage]
[Exploration Concluded: Torches doused. Can they be relit? D6 = 4, yes]
[Resource Update: -1 Ration, now at 4 (Minerva) and 3 (Bargen), Tara remains at 4]
Thanks for reading!
-Eric