We’re to set off from Winterhaven to investigate this entire ‘rifts’ business, doom and gloom seeming to be the general mood of the townsfolk. Without our previous encounter of the kobolds and their ill-smelling goblin friend in the caves beyond the waterfall, I’d doubtful they would have even been aware of their imminent demise. Not that it would have mattered, they have such a pathetic existence that if it wasn’t for the merchant caravans, the disappearance of such a town would go unnoticed for years.
Shadowfell Keep seems to be nothing more than a hole in the ground, the stories we heard back in town seemed rather exaggerative, but if we’re to get any sort of reputation as adventurers being choosy isn’t exactly an option. I decided to illuminate Gene and the Dragonborn so any that may wish unpleasantness upon us may perhaps to decide to go after those they can easily see.
Perhaps the old books I withered away years of my youth studying were wrong; I was under the impression that dragons and their kin were supposed to be majestically wise and knowledgeable beings. At the sight of a goblin (who was making quite a ruckus I might add), he decided his best course of action would be to charge it, completely oblivious to the fact that we’ve just set foot in a dungeon. And of course, dungeons being excellent locations with which one wrong misstep can leave you without said foot (or worse!) due to the numerous traps they’re known to contain. The paladin falls into a pit with some rather unfriendly looking rats, and we use our time bringing him out of it, giving the noisy goblin ample time to go to his friends. Perhaps they even had tea while they waited for us! Do goblins even drink tea?
We all go chasing after them, I fling a few spells; the goblins run away and look to be heading back the way we came. I decide to go back to cut them off; turns out that this was an unwise decision since the last thing I remember in this particular encounter is realizing that going back to meet the goblins meant I was actually going to meet them.
Once the dwarf has patched me up, we continue stumbling about in Shadowfell Keep. We hear some more goblins in an area and find them loitering about in a giant pit, quite convenient for our cleric who has a penchant for burying the dead. We decide to use caution this time and force them to come to us, as they have nowhere else to go. After a few moments of carefree slaughter of those below us, all of a sudden our clear advantage doesn’t seem to matter to some of the others in the group and gallivanting away they go. The ranger falls spectacularly into the pit despite the presence of additional planks from the peculiar ideas the dragonborn had, and the dragonborn himself goes charging wildly and falls over from either the arrow to his face or the lizard creature biting him, not certain which did him in, but both didn’t look too great.
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