Nerdy Gamers - D&D Session 4

27 December 2020

⏪ Previous - Session 3

The party

·         Kisandra Starlight – Half-Elf Sorceress (Heather)

·         Barendil Dawnwood – Elf Ranger (Robert)

·         Guillerme don d’Lyonne – Human Paladin (Martin)

·         Friar Buck Norris – Human Cleric (Silas)

·         Nobby Nobbs – Human (probably) Rogue (Tom)

Next steps in Phandalin

The party awoke the next morning in the Stonehill Tavern, with Barendil and Nobby licking their wounds from the beating they received the night before from the Redbrands at the Sleeping Giant taphouse. Nobby had jokingly offered to allow ‘Baz’ to lick his wounds for him, but even the hypothetical notion of getting his tongue anywhere near the filthy rogue brought tears to the elf’s eyes. The joking continued over breakfast, but neither Nobby nor Barendil were unaware of the assistance provided by Kisandra, her magicks being the only thing preventing them from being taken prisoner or killed by the ruffians. They nodded their thanks to the sorceress before getting down to the business of the day. 

Nobby had taken it upon himself to act in the capacity of the band’s accountant – an interesting choice for a thief, and perhaps even more interesting for those who agreed to the arrangement (which was in fact the entire party). Based on his calculations, the group went shopping at the two stores in town. Nobby convinced Guillerme to rein in his expensive tastes and buy hempen rope rather than the pricey silk stuff, though strangely the rogue walked out of the Lionshield Coster with a shiny new rapier that must have cost a coin or two.  

The simple regional map obtained
from Barthen's Provisions

While in Barthen;s Provisions, the adventurers agreed to drive the supplies in the borrowed farm cart back to White Willow Farm for 5 GP. Nobby didn’t try to strike a harder bargain, considering that they had already decided to follow the summons in the letter from the farmhand to investigate the further strange goings on at the farm. At least they could travel in some comfort by using the cart, and arrive sooner than if they walked.

And so, with their provisions stocked up, the group departed south for White Willow Farm, picking up a rough regional map from Barthen just before heading out. The snow that had fallen out of the farmer’s envelope intrigued Kisandra in particular, indicating something unusual and perhaps otherworldly was happening back at the farm…  

Winter comes to White Willow Farm

Driving the cart along the trail, the adventurers arrived at White Willow farm just as night was falling. They were met with a pleasant welcome by the farmer, who invited them in for supper and warm beds while his farmhands unloaded the supplies. The party were not able to glean much in the way of specific information about the nature of what had been happening since they had destroyed the animated scarecrows and departed the farm for Phandalin, but considering the late hour they decided to retire to their beds and investigate in the morning.

It was the dead of midwinter at White Willow Farm

And a strange quiet fog had settled round the barn.

The sounds of the chickens at home in their roosts

Were silenced as if foxes had just been set loose.

But no one was listening, no one was awake

And someone was coming, with mischief to make.

 

Guillerme slept soundly, not making a peep

Surely dreaming of damsels he saved in his sleep.

But the rest of the party started to stir,

Even Nobby who’s snoring Buck’s wrath did incur.

Looking out of the window, Barendil saw a strange sight

The whole of the farm was covered in white!

 

Chestnut Hollow was warm this time of the year,

Why white snow was falling was a little unclear.

Kisandra could taste the magicks in the air

While Guillerme and Buck clasped hands together in prayer.

It was clear to the adventurers that something was afoot,

Action was needed, they couldn’t stay put!

 

So they crept from their beds, grabbing their gear

And descended the stairs feeling quite cavalier.

When from up above the silence was ended

By the sound of sleigh bells, a-jingle most splendid.

Was it the sound of salvation or a portent of doom?

Wondered our brave heroes as they stepped into the front room.

The party descended the stairs of the farmhouse, finding everything eerily quiet. The fire had gone out and a light dusting of snow covered the hearth. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and a blizzard of white snow flew into the room with the sound of gusting wind outside. Despite the fact it was morning, it seemed strangely gloomy outside the door. Barendil took it upon himself to look outside, finding that a combination of thick cloud overhead and driving snow all around reduced visibility to some 60 feet or so. From what he could see, they didn’t seem to be in White Willow Farm any more – at least, not in the farm they had arrived in last night. Although some of the landmarks remained, they seemed to be in disrepair and covered in snow. A thick forest of pines stretched as far as he could see, but nothing seemed to be stirring. The elf looked for signs of life and any tracks, but the snow was falling so heavily that he knew he wouldn’t be able to see any traces at all – even his own boot prints from the house were already being obscured. Aware that they would have to stick together to explore the snowy landscape lest they get separated, he called back to his companions to come outside and they joined him in front of the house.

The Blind Man

Moving towards the thick one forest, the party spotted a clear path between the trees and heard the sound of bells jingling ahead. Kisandra attempted to sense whether there was anything magical about this path, but the entire area was so suffused with unnatural arcane energies that she could distinguish nothing different about this path, other than the sound of bells that they could all hear. Following this sound, the party soon came upon a clearing with a lone lamp post in the centre of it, glowing in the snow. Beneath the lamppost, an old, stocky man with milky eyes and a stick with an ice skate attached to it shuffled back and forth, murmuring to himself. He wore a long, dirty red cloak and looked dishevelled with hunched shoulders. He paid no heed to the adventurers as they walked into the clearing.

The blind man in the clearing paid no heed to
the adventurers as they approached

“I am one with Christmas and Christmas is in me,” said the blind man, apparently to himself.

The party hesitantly approached, and still the man shuffled back and forth. Their hushed whispering while they discussed what to do was interrupted by the man’s muttering, which raised in volume as he exclaimed, “You look but do you see?”

Buck attempted to talk to the old man, but his unseeing eyes seemed to look straight through the cleric.

“Naughty, nice, naughty, nice. Which is which? Roll the dice,” was all the man said.

Holding out an alms box, Buck offered the blind man some coins. Still giving the appearance of ignoring him, the man pointed down to a beggar’s bowl that sat at the foot of the lamppost. Understanding the intention, Buck placed the coins in the bowl. A smile erupted across the man’s face and he quickly stooped down to pick the bowl up.

“You have been nice!” exclaimed the blind man as he shuffled off into the trees on the other side of the clearing, his red cloak rapidly disappearing as the snow swirling behind him. “Well, quite nice I suppose,” he called back as he felt the measly collection of coppers that Buck had dropped in the begging bowl, "Just remember that not everyone in this place will be as kind."

These are not the Elves you are looking for

three apparently jolly festive elves
enter the clearing

Soon after the blind beggar had disappeared, three brightly clothed figures skipped into the clearing through the trees, the glow from the lamppost highlighting their polished buttons and shiny bells on their hats. 

Barendil immediately knocked an arrow to his bow string and prepared to shoot, but Guillerme put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Should we not talk to them?” asked the paladin. “They could be friend rather than foe in this gloomy place.”

The elf ranger turned angrily on the human for interrupting his aim, feeling sure that the way the diminutive figure at the back was holding his crossbow was hostile. Guillerme, however, was convinced that these jolly fellows deserved to be treated with kindness. The rest of the party stood back while the two argued with one another, an argument that was soon cut short by the sound of a twanging bowstring and the thud of a crossbow bolt burying itself into Barendil’s thigh – it seemed that the ranger’s instincts had been right! 

The adventurers close with the not-so-jolly elves

Realising his folly, Guillerme moved to attack an elf carrying a great wooden mallet. He scored a fine hit on the creature, slicing one of its ears and then swinging his glaive back towards its legs, knocking it to the ground. Buck, however, seemed to have taken Guillerme’s first reaction to heart and was reluctant to actually fight the elves, the inner turmoil of his conscience causing him to miss his attempts to hit the bearded elf carrying a huge candy cane.

Meanwhile, Barendil found that despite his growing anger at Guillerme’s interference and the crossbow bolt sticking out of his leg, his aim was as sharp as ever and he sent an arrow straight through the eye of the crossbow-wielding elf. Suffering such a grievous wound and now with only one usable eye, the elf’s attempts to fire his crossbow at Guillerme were hampered and the bolt went wide. The paladin ground his teeth in frustration, knowing that not only was the wood elf right about these three but that his expert archery had just helped save Guillerme from a painful crossbow bolt.

Kisandra finally dropped the crossbow-wielding elf with a stream of magic missiles that tore through the bright coloured clothing, while Nobby decided to move forwards and try out his new rapier. Unfortunately, he was still feeling unfamiliar with the noble weapon and dropped it on his toe with a surprised yelp of pain.

Once the second elf had been dispatched, the group focused on the bearded one in the red jerkin. Guillerme called out that he wanted to keep this one alive to question, presumably still wondering whether they had made a mistake in quarrelling with these small fellows. Kisandra and Barendil agreed to hold their ranged attacks, instead watching the perimeter in case of any other attackers.

Guillerme knocked the elf to the ground with the butt of his glaive, and Nobby rushed forwards with some rope to tie the creature’s limbs together. Friar Buck assisted the rogue in hoisting the prisoner to his feet and towards the lamppost, but Barendil cut in and strode forwards to take over the ‘interrogation’. Guillerme walked to the other side of the clearing in disgust as Barendil and Nobby hung the little elf upside down from the lamppost, setting his cloth boots on fire and piling snow onto his upturned face.

Sputtering, the elf woke up to his predicament. He managed to move his head enough to bite off a chunk of his candy cane, after which his eyes rolled back into his head and green foam started to froth from his mouth. In a moment, he was dead, and the party’s questions for him remained unanswered.  

Rudolph Needs a Friend

The adventurers spy a reindeer through
the trees, though something isn't right

Fresh from the fight with the elves and the subsequent torture and mutilation of one of them, the group again heard the jingling of sleigh bells pulling them forwards into the snowstorm. Barendil led the way, his keen senses and delicate steps avoiding hidden obstacles in the snow drifts. The rest of the party followed closely behind, copying his movements to ensure safe passage along the tree-lined path. As they walked, the party could hear something moving through the trees near to them, and as they looked they could see a dark shape making its way forwards almost parallel to them. In a brief respite from the snow, they were able to make out what the shape was: a large reindeer. But, as they looked closer, they could see something wasn’t right. The creature looked pained as it ambled along, flesh hanging from its bones. It didn’t seem to be threatening but it also didn’t appear to have noticed the adventurers yet. 

Friar Buck approaches the melancholy beast

Guillerme knelt, clasping his hands together to try and Detect Evil. He sensed nothing alarming from the beast, despite its savage exterior. He said as much to his companions, asking Barendil to stay his arrows this time until they knew more about the creature. The elf replied that he had no plans to shoot the beast anyway – he liked animals and this one didn’t seem hostile to him.

Friar Buck decided to move forwards and try to communicate with the beast, offering it an apple and softly speaking to it. The reindeer responded positively, taking the proffered food and nuzzling against the cleric. There was no malice in the beasts intentions, just sadness in its eyes. Clearly the magical corruption of this place had been affecting the local fauna.

The reindeer pushed off through the trees, lowing softly. Buck decided not to follow, instead returning to the path so that the group could continue on their chosen trail. 

I Have Felt Your Presents

A gloriously decorated Christmas Tree with lovingly
wrapped presents sitting beneath its snow-laden boughs

Nobby moves forward alone to investigate
the potential ambush site

Walking further along the path, following the sound of more jingling sleigh bells, the adventurers came upon another clearing. In the middle of this one was a grand tree, lovingly decorated, with several presents sitting beneath its snow-laden boughs. Nobby Nobbs, his suspicious mind thinking that this would be the perfect spot for an ambush if he had lain those presents out so carefully, told the others to stand back while he tiptoed forwards to investigate.

As the presents and tree come to life before
their eyes, Nobby attempts to scarper back
to the safety of the group

Sure enough, as he approached, the rogue spotted some unnatural movement of the wrapping paper on the presents before they split in half, wide mouths with sharp teeth appearing in the brightly coloured packages. With a loud creaking and cracking sound, the tree also began to move, roots pulling out from the ground and branches stretching out into arms. Yawning wide beneath its bristly green beard, the awakened tree turned is malevolent gaze towards the adventurers as the snapping presents hopped to swarm Nobby before he could retreat to safety. 

The adventurers acted swiftly, targeting the treeman with fire-based attacks. Nobby turned and doused it with oil, ignoring the presents snapping at his heels, and ignited the tree with a *whoosh* of flame. Kisandra’s fire bolt and Buck’s sacred flame added to the conflagration, needles on the branches crackling whilst baubles exploded from the heat. The monster flailed its arms but was swiftly dispatched, still burning as it fell to the ground. 

Nobby disengaged from the presents, bleeding from numerous bite marks but still bravely pulling his shortbow from his back to continue the fight. It didn’t take long to send the rest of the presents to their doom with the treeman out of the way, allowing Barendil to rush forwards and catch Nobby as he fell forwards, feeling weak from the loss of blood. The ranger performed some magical healing to restore Nobby as best as he could, to at least keep the rogue from falling while they searched for the source of the jingling bells in this snowy nightmare. “Thanks Baz,” said Nobby with a friendly wink.

Perhaps he was touched by the elf’s display of kindness, or perhaps he had just realised his earlier mistakes, but once Nobby was standing again, Guillerme approached Barendil holding a flask of wine in front of him.

“Please, accept my apologies,” began the paladin. “I realise now that you were not being simply bloodthirsty with those colourful elves, but that you were right to prepare for battle. Please, take the wineskin and my hand – but first,” continued Guillerme, handing over a bar of soap and pointing to Nobby, “make sure you wash yourself after touching that filthy creature!”   

The Awakened Christmas Tree and its
Attendant Presents

Walk the Path

Finally, the adventurers reached the end of the path and emerged out of the trees, finding themselves standing before an enormous ravine that stretched to the right and left as far as they could see. The snow abated slightly, giving them a good view over the ravine. Opposite, they could see large, ornate fence broken by two opulent gates, in front of which was a drawbridge that slammed down in front of them as they approached. Instead of the expected wooden planks, this bridge comprised of lettered tiles laid out in a grid. A sign over the gate read “Only in the footsteps of his beardiness will you proceed.” It was clear that the party had to decipher this riddle to get across the ravine, but they weren’t sure what the word could be.

The lettered grid on the drawbridge
leading to the ornate gates on
the other side of the ravine

Kisandra thought she knew the answer. The party ‘volunteered’ her to test it out but, being the kind souls they were, they did tie a rope round her waist in case it went wrong. She stepped onto an ‘S’, which immediately gave way and she fell into the ravine. Fortunately, the rope round her midriff stopped her falling to her doom, but she did feel the harsh, coarse hemp rope digging painfully into her torso. If only they had bought some soft silk rope, she thought to herself as they dragged her back up to solid ground.

As they continued to debate the riddle, a sound came to them as if whispered from the trees, “Sounds like the bells. Like the JINGLE of the bells…”

Friar Buck clicked his fingers as he listened to the voice on the wind, realising what needed to be done. He stepped first on the ‘K’ and, when the bridge remained firm and the letter illuminated itself, he confidently moved forwards onto the ‘R’, ‘I’, ‘N’, ‘G’, ‘L’ and finally ‘E’. Striding forth off the drawbridge, he beckoned the others to follow in his footsteps and they steeled themselves to march through the ornate gates and towards whatever laid beyond.

Santa’s Workshop

Red clothes, considerable belly, white
beard, sack full of toys... and an axe...?

Stepping through the ornate gate, the party saw a glorious sight ahead of them through the snow. Workshops and warehouses stretched out in all directions, industry enough to create all sorts of toys and trinkets for children across the world… but something wasn’t quite right. No smoke spiralled from the forest of chimneys and there was no sound of hammers banging or goods being moved around. There seemed to be no sign of life at all until they spotted a large, bearded fellow in red walking down some steps in front of them, casually holding an axe by his side and carrying a large sack of toys over his shoulder. 

Of course, this was Santa Claus!

Barendil’s fingers twitched towards his bowstring, but Guillerme rushed to stand between him and Santa, refusing to allow the elf to shoot the fat fellow. The ranger, bemused at Guillerme’s change of heart since their previous conversation, could do nothing to protect the paladin as Santa walked up behind him and struck Guillerme in the back with his axe. Stunned, he turned to face Santa, seeing darkness in the eyes that were nestled between the big bushy beard and the big bushy eyebrows. It was hard for the proud paladin to determine what hurt more – the axe or the knowledge that he had once again mistrusted his companion and made a grave error of judgement. 

The adventurers fight against Santa

The adventurers rushed to Guillerme’s aid against this incredibly tough opponent. Santa’s axe thwacked into Guillerme again and again; Friar Buck pushed the paladin back as he tried to raise his shield to protect his fellow against the relentless punishment. Kisandra took the opportunity to first weave a spell to identify any weakness that this cruel Kringle might have, and followed it up with a powerful Witch Bolt that crackled from her fingers and earthed through the red-clothed figure. Closing her eyes, the sorceress focused on maintaining the arcane energy, which continued to pass waves of damaging magic coursing through Santa. Buck held his attention while Barendil and Nobby flanked to position themselves to shoot arrows into Santa’s sides. 

The final blow of the combat was struck by Santa himself, who finally managed to get his axe past Buck’s defences and strike the cleric. Fully anticipating this, the Friar had been focusing on his tempest abilities and reacted with a roar, throwing his attacker back with thunderous force. Santa landed hard on the ground, his body limp from the mystical energy unleashed as his axe squarely hit Buck. The cleric sighed in relief, kneeling and saying to himself, “And a Happy New Year, you bastard.”

The evil Su'szaan is revealed!

Buoyed by their success, the adventurers breathed a collective sigh of relief and looked about themselves. A cracking sound drew their attention back to where Santa’s body lay, no longer unmoving but jerking in sudden spasms. As the adventurers looked on, Santa’s body jerked, his spine arching back on itself. His skin began to darken as horns popped out of his skull, pushing the red hat from his head. Cloven hooves sprouted from his boots, the tattered leather dropping to the ground. Perhaps this wasn’t really Santa all along!

The purple-skinned creature slowly stood to its full height before pointing at the party and screaming with a raspy, grating voice, “What have you done?! You’ve ruined everything!”

Instead of presents, his sack
contains captured children!

Stood before the adventurers was a horrific sight; a true monster, wearing a tattered red robe in a parody of the glorious vision of Santa that they had already fought. The sack of colourful presents had been replaced by a dirty and patched bag that seemed to writhe with a life of its own, and as they watched, a small and horrified child’s head popped out of the top of the sack before the villain stuffed it back in again.

 “I am Su’szaan, I have spent years chasing the magic of Santa and now you’re here killing my minions and you don’t even understand what is going on!!” wailed Su’szaan. “Where is the artifact? I can’t return triumphant to the Underdark without it!”

Before the adventurers could react, the evil creature waved its taloned hands in the air, raising them up above its head as two humanoid forms erupted from the snow either side of him. His snowman bodyguards lumbered forward, blocking the way with their shields to protect their master and hefting their weapons. If it was possible for eyes made of coal to narrow menacingly, then that was what they did. 

The adventurers battle against Su'szaan
and his snowman bodyguards

The snowmen were tough, but Guillerme and Buck stood toe-to-toe with the frozen monsters. Nobby and Barendil fired arrows into the swirling melee, attempting to take down the bodyguards to leave their summoner defenceless. Kisandra traded magical attacks with the evil creature, finding that he was at least as skilled in the arcane arts as she was – probably more so. Her attempts to magically probe his weaknesses were not as effective while he was in this form as they had been when he appeared as Santa, so her Witch Bolt was ineffective. Meanwhile, the grinning purple beast summoned a Sacred Flame just like Friar Buck had been, though the flames were a sickly green colour. It directed the spell’s energies at Barendil, though fortunately the lithe elf was agile enough to dodge out of the way of the searing magical flames. 

Having been fighting outside the workshop continuously, the party found that they were tiring and some of them severely wounded. Buck finally succumbed to his injuries and dropped to the floor, beginning to bleed out. He summoned just enough energy to whisper to Guillerme, “Leave me for now, I’ll be OK, destroy this evil!” The paladin attacked with renewed fury, his glaive slicing through the snowman in front of him with a series of frenzied attacks. He knew they needed to finish this fight quickly so that his comrade’s wounds could be tended to.

At last, the snowmen were both destroyed, leaving two piles of snow capped with woollen scarves and hats on the ground. Su’szaan roared in frustration as the adventurers turned their attention to him, throwing arrows, magic missiles and glaive strikes in his direction. He was unable to defend himself against such an onslaught and fell to the ground, defeated. The child in his sack crawled out from under the monster’s body, looking around bleary-eyed at the adventurers through tear-filled eyes before a blinding, golden light shone out and caused them all to drop their gaze.

Christmas is saved!

Bells jingled once more as the golden light faded and a glorious figure appeared. The figure was not Santa as you had seen him before; he was dressed in rich robes, holding a golden staff and a sack overflowing with presents. But goodness emanated from him– this was clearly the real, bona fide Saint Nicholas.

Saint Nicholas appears in a
golden haze!

He greeted the party with a warm, fatherly tone, “Adventurers! Thank you! You have defeated the evil Su’szaan – he used his magicks to keep me imprisoned here while he impersonated me to steal children away and search for the ancient artefacts of Christmas, which have been lost throughout the realms…”

Santa’s speech was interrupted by a groaning from Su’szaan – he wasn’t quite dead! As they turned towards him, the purple fiend rose up just enough to give them all the finger with one hand whilst the other traced a complex pattern on the ground. With a sound like ripping cloth, a tear in reality opened up beneath the monster and he dropped through. The last thing that could be seen as he dropped from view was his middle finger descending through the portal before reality stitched itself back together again.

 “Don’t worry,” said Santa. “I don’t know how he managed to figure out the way in, but I’ve reinforced the defences of my Christmas realm – he won’t get back in here again. But I’m sure he will continue his search for the Christmas artefacts, they are incredibly powerful if brought together and it is to my shame that they have been misplaced over the centuries. I expect I shall need to call on your assistance again, but for now be reassured that you have indeed saved Christmas! I thank you for your efforts, you truly are brave heroes.” 

The heroes are congratulated by Santa for 
saving Christmas

Santa reached down with his golden staff, touching Buck on the head and healing the cleric. As he sat up rubbing his head, the Friar smiled and asked, “I guess I must be on the Nice List then? Anything in that sack for me St. Nick?”

Rolling his eyes, Santa asked Buck whether saving his life wasn’t present enough, at which the cleric became rather sheepish and looked at his feet. Father Christmas laughed loudly at this and turned, whirling his staff in a wide circle in front of himself, creating a golden portal through which the adventurers could see White Willow Farm. This time, the farm was clearly as they had left it – not a snowflake in sight and everything seemed to be in order. With grateful smiles at Santa, the party began to walk through the portal and into the sunlight. 

Barendil shook Santa’s hand and thanked him for his selfless service to the children of the world. Nobby seemed to walk close to the robed figure, surreptitiously sneaking a present out from the sack, but a quick hand shot out and closed around the rogue’s wrist.

“Careful Nobby,” said Santa. “I haven’t decided which list you are on yet!”

Dropping the present back into the bag with a shrug, Nobby continued out through the portal muttering “Cheapskate”. As he got to the other side, he felt something move in his pack. Opening up the bag, he found a large lump of coal inside, and shook his head while laughing to himself.

The Aftermath

The aftermath of the DM's area

This was the third week in a row running a D&D session, which was a lot of fun but pretty intense! I’ve kept things as easy as possible by running the Lost Mine of Phandelver campaign (other than the first session which was an intro session I designed to show the guys the ropes – I wasn’t sure they would all want to continue, but it seems to be going very well!). Even with a premade campaign though, there’s still a fair bit of time into familiarising with the story and preparing things to make sure the session moves as smoothly as possible. I prefer to try and keep things moving at a good pace rather than stopping constantly to read from a book.

For this session, I used an adventure that I wrote last year for a one-off with my other regular D&D group, where I’m usually a player rather than DM. I had got the War in Christmas Village kickstarter and so painted up the various characters from that and designed an adventure to make the most of those models. There was some modification required for this session – primarily personalising it to these characters, but also toning down the encounters as we had five level 6 characters there! I was happy with the balance here, as the party found some of the fights giving them a bit of trouble and the cleric was in trouble at the end, but you wouldn’t want it to be too much of a breeze would you?

Next session, we’ll take stock of where the Christmas saviours are and they’ll be returning to Phandalin to decide what story threads they explore next, which should be interesting. And I received the remaining models from the Christmas Village kickstarter just before Christmas, so I’ll be getting those painted up and thinking of the next chapter for Santa, Su’szaan and the mystical Christmas Arefacts – probably for around 12 months from now!  

The supporting cast for this Christmas Adventure

Next - Session 5 ⏩

Nerdy Gamers - D&D session 3

20 December 2020

Our third session of Dungeons and Dragons over videocall, following immediately on from where the adventurers finished the previous encounter during which they had triumphed over an enormous Bugbear, possibly their most challenging opponent to date. They have discovered that the goblins have been ambushing supply caravans on the road to Phandalin and now need to find a way out of this cave system, while searching for Gundren Rockseeker and his human companion who seem to have been taken captive and brought here during an ambush on the road...

⏪ Previous - Session 2

The party

·         Kisandra Starlight – Half-Elf Sorceress (Heather)

·         Barendil Dawnwood – Elf Ranger (Robert)

·         Guillerme don d’Lyonne – Human Paladin (Martin)

·         Friar Buck Norris – Human Cleric (Silas)

·         Nobby Nobbs – Human (probably) Rogue (Tom) 

The party - Kisandra, Friar Buck, 
Guillerme, Nobby Nobbs & Barendil

The adventurers stood over the broken body of Klarg, Bugbear Chieftain, with his pet wolf and goblin minions, dead, nearby. They were surrounded by the stolen provisions and supplies that had been taken in ambushes on the roads to and from Phandalin. Behind them, the stone chimney led back down to the wolf den (filled with wolf corpses and Friar Buck’s shame), while ahead rough-hewn stone steps proceeded down into further darkness. It was clear that, if they were to recover the stolen supplies, the adventurers would have to venture forth to find an alternative exit from these caves.

Clearing the Caves

Descending the stone steps, Friar Buck and Guillerme led the party into a cavern containing two large pools of water, crudely dammed with stones and timber. Buck held aloft his hammer, having magically infused the weapon with light – a beacon of hope in the darkness. The glow from the hammer illuminated the grinning, tusked faces of two Bugbears, while three goblins skulked behind them knocking their bows. Neither Bugbear was as hulking as Klarg, but they held their weapons no less menacingly.

Guillerme charged at the beasts, his glaive held above his head, as goblin arrows flew past him and targeted his companions to his rear. Two missed their mark but the third thudded harshly into Kisandra’s thigh, causing the half-elf to cry out in pain.

Following Guillerme’s example, Buck likewise charged at the Bugbears. Murmuring prayers to Kord, the cleric swung his glowing hammer in a glorious arc, circling round to eventually swing upwards and connect with the goblinoid’s jaw in a smashing uppercut, causing the beast to stagger backwards. Ignoring the goblin arrows and swirling melee in front of him, Barendil loosed an arrow straight into a goblin archer’s eye, killing it outright, while casually reaching for another arrow from his quiver.

Nobby Nobbs, meanwhile, eschewed his normal position towards the rear of the battle by charging in to help Guillerme and Buck, seeing an opportunity to slash his shortsword at a Bugbear’s back. After a faltering start, Guillerme finally started to figure out how to really swing his glaive properly and sliced the monster in front of him thrice, back and forth across its chest, killing the beast. As his opponent fell, the paladin took a goblin arrow to the knee for his trouble, causing him to cry out in pain.

The second Bugbear was subjected to a ferocious assault by Friar Buck as he continued to swing his glowing warhammer like a dance partner, bringing it spinning back in a figure of eight and smashing into the monster’s jaw. As the hammer connected, the Bugbear was lifted off its feet and the light seemed to flash like a strobe to make it appear that the Bugbear was frozen in mid-air for a moment before it landed heavily on the floor. Raising itself from the prone position, the Bugbear was vulnerable to the glowing warhammer, arcing back again as Buck took the opportunity to continue his attack by smashing the creature on the temple, staggering it. Nobby and Guillerme weren’t able to make the most of the chance offered by the Bugbear’s situation as Buck was too busy knocking it around, but once he stopped to draw breath Nobby was finally able to sneak in behind the beast and slash at it with his sword. The rogue took great delight in slicing its buttocks, giggling with glee as the creature slumped forwards onto its knees and died in a most undignified manner.

Rolling his eyes at the giggling rogue, Barendil fired another arrow into the throat of another goblin, skewering it, while Guillerme ran forwards and dispatched the final greenskin with a swift hack of his glaive.

The adventurers seemed to be working together like a well-oiled machine, settling into their battlefield roles. Kisandra drank deeply of one of the healing draughts they had found in the previous chamber while Friar Buck knelt to give thanks to Kord for blessing their weapons.

Fresh from dispatching the hulking Bugbear,
Klarg, the adventurers run into two more
Bugbears and some Goblin Archers

Friar Buck leads the charge against the Bugbears

Barendil walked forwards to inspect the pools in front of them, divining clearly that this was a rudimentary, though probably highly effective, trap laid by the goblins. The dams could be easily breached to allow one or both of the pools to release their contents down the winding stream, flushing intruders from the cave. Fortunately for the companions, they had not raised the alarm within the cave to cause such a response, and now the goblins responsible for bursting the dams were dead.

Looking around the chamber, the adventurers could see one path leading away alongside the stream as it curved east and then south, while a second exit could be seen further south on the western wall of the cave, directly to the left of where the adventurers stood. They decided to explore this way.

Despite the quiet protests of some of the group at how conspicuous he was, Friar Buck strode off purposefully along this corridor, whistling a cheery pious tune and holding his still-glowing warhammer aloft to light the way. The rest of the party followed in single file behind as the path gradually rose upwards, until Buck could discern the edge of a rickety wooden bridge at the edge of his radius of illumination. As he looked on, an arrow suddenly flew towards him – but the same glow that gave away his position to the goblin sentry also dazzled the greenskin and so the arrow went wide.

Barendil yelled to the group “DOWN!”, and as they all crouched down in the rock dust, he loosed an arrow towards the goblin. However, this also went wide, his darkvision being likewise damaged by the glow from the hammer. Before the group could stand again, the goblin began lining up another shot, but as he spread his legs to brace himself, he lost his footing and fell the 20 feet down off the bridge, dashing his brains on the rocks below.

Leaning over the ledge to look down upon the unfortunate, dead, goblin, Friar Buck began to walk forwards onto the bridge. Before he got more than a few steps forwards, Barendil called out again, halting the cleric and suggesting that they extinguish the light as it made them a target for any remaining enemies in the cave system. The elf suggested that himself (with his excellent darkvision and occasionally brilliant stealth abilities) and Nobby (with his inconspicuous nature and quiet, shuffling gait) move forwards to scout the terrain. Nobby was happy to have been included in the elf’s plans so wholeheartedly agreed, and Kisandra saw the keen good sense in the suggestion. She didn’t agree with Barendil simply because of her elvish heritage, she felt it was the most logical action. Buck Norris, however, appeared to be too enthused by the patronage of his god after the last encounter they had and, with Guillerme’s backing, he determined to continue leading the party on to bring the light of Kord to every corner of the dungeon. He even handed out pamphlets praising Kord to the rest of the party. The bold cleric continued to stride forwards with the glowing hammer raised even higher, chanting a song whilst he went. Barendil sighed, but refused to argue with the human further.

A captive freed

After passing a small side passage that led down to the left from the path they were on, Buck’s glowing hammer illuminated another cavern; this one containing 6 goblins (one of which wore a large pointy red hat) and a dishevelled human in chains. The goblins had all clearly left their positions round a cooking fire when they saw the glow and heard the chanting coming down the corridor, and were standing on guard between the party and the prisoner.

His glowing warhammer held high, Buck leads
the way into another goblin-infested cavern

The adventurers moved to attack the goblins. Barendil stuck the goblin with the red hat with an arrow, glancing his arm and making him yelp in surprise. The spear-armed goblins moved forwards whilst the goblin archers tried to shoot the party, their arrows going wide. 

As the spear-armed goblins moved forwards, the red-hatted greenskin turned and scuttled back towards the prisoner. He roughly grabbed the man’s hair and pressed a jagged knife to his throat.

“Truce or this human be deaded!” the goblin yelled in the Common tongue with his squeaky yet malicious voice.

The party didn’t know what to say. They debate with one another for some time, almost forgetting the threat of the advancing goblins. Getting impatient, the one in the red hat pressed the knife harder and a line of blood started to run down the man’s neck.

“Now, tell me, truce or dies!” he screeched.

Taking charge of the situation and realising that this human was likely the companion of Gundren Rockseeker, so they wanted to keep him alive, Kisandra called back in a soothing voice, “What do you want?”

The diminutive greenskin replied, “Yeemik want be boss, Klarg is boss but he stinking Bugbear, Yeemik be boss for goblins”

“And how does that happen?” Kisandra asked, taking from context that Yeemik was the goblin in the red hat, which must have distinguished him as some sort of leader amongst these creatures.

“Youse kill Klarg, me be the boss,” said the goblin simply.

“Oh, we’ve killed Klarg already!” the half-elf cried in triumph, but it is clear the goblin doesn’t believe them. He tells them he wants Klarg’s head as proof, so Barendil agreed to go to and retrieve it while the rest of the party remained to keep an eye on the goblins and ensure Yeemik kept his word. On the way back to the supply-filled cavern, he investigated the side passage they passed earlier and found that it joined up with the tunnels he had previously scouted – it seemed that they had explored all that the cave system had to offer.

On returning to the cavern, Barendil threw the massive Bugbear’s head at Yeemik’s feet, causing the goblin to squeal with joy. He unchained the human captive, roughly pushing him towards the adventurers. As the obviously weakened man staggered forward, he called out in a faltering voice, “Don’t trust the goblins…”

Almost on cue, the spear-goblins closed ranks in front of the released prisoner and crossed their spears as Yeemik called out a ransom demand. “500 gold,” he said with a cruel grin.

The adventurers tried to trick him by suggesting they had 500 gold pieces buried nearby that they could get for him, but the greenksin wasn’t buying it and demanded to see the money straight away. Tiring of the goblin’s duplicity, Barendil knocked and shot an arrow at Yeemik, which stuck through the goblin’s red hat as he ducked in surprise. Before they could see what the goblin would do next, the rest of the party surged forward to strike down the evil creatures.  

Nobby threw some ball bearings at the feet of the goblins, causing 5 of the 6 of them to lose their footing and fall to the ground. Following up on this initiative, Guillerme charged to attack one of the goblins as it tried to stand up. His glaive struck with such force that it cleaved through the goblin’s spear, arms, chest and out through its back to bury itself in the ground. Meanwhile, Nobby deftly wove his way through the ball bearings, using his powers of sidling to get next to one of the prone goblins without appearing to have moved at all. He then proceeded to kick the goblin in the balls repeatedly before slitting the creature’s throat, just as the Commander had taught him all those years ago. 

After throwing his ball bearings, causing most of the
goblins to fall down, Nobby sidles up and puts a
swift boot in, just like the Commander taught him to!

Though the spear-goblins were all but out of the fight, the archers managed to stand up and fire two surprisingly accurate arrows at Friar Buck, his warhammer still merrily glowing. The priest was struck twice in the chest and he fell hard, unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Without attention, his wounds could prove fatal.

Having seen his goblins get cut down and now sensing an opportunity to escape while the adventurers were shocked to see one of their number dropped to the ground by goblin arrows, Yeemik turned tail and fled. One of his archers was struck down by an arrow from Barendil while the other realised his boss was legging it, so decided to follow suit. 

Yeemik the Goblin makes his escape with
Barendil in hot pursuit

Barendil, outraged at the possibility this treacherous greenskin might escape, gave chase and tried to shoot his legs out from under him, but the arrow skidded on the ground and the goblin continued to scramble over the rocks and further from the combat. Kisandra attempted to freeze Yeemik’s legs with a Ray of Frost, but succeeded only in covering some of the rocks in the cave in a coating of ice.

As the final spear-goblin was dispatched, Barendil pursued Yeemik and the remaining archer down a tunnel and to the entrance of the goblin lair. Searching around the briars, he found the tracks of the two goblins leading into the forest but in his haste stepped on a large twig with a *SNAP*, which caused birds to fly from the trees into the air. He realised that these greenskins had escaped for now and returned to the rest of the party.

Sildar Hallwinter

Walking back into the cavern, Barendil saw the human prisoner sitting uncomfortably on the floor while Kisandra was administering the second potion of healing to Buck. The priest groggily sat up and rubbed his chest where the two arrows had hit him; the magical draught had stemmed the bleeding but he looked like he would need a good rest before carrying on.

The group stoked the goblin’s cooking fire and decided it was safe enough to eat and rest now that the goblins had all been killed or driven from their lair. They offered some food to the human they had saved, who told them his name was Sildar Hallwinter and that he was indeed Gundren Rockseeker’s companion. They had been taken captive in the ambush on the road to Phandalin, but Gundren had been taken elsewhere while Sildar was chained up in this goblin-infested pit. Sildar confirmed the story of the Lost Mine of Phandelver that the dwarfs had recounted back in Chestnut Hollow, telling the adventurers that Gundren had a map to the entrance – a map that had unfortunately been taken, along with the dwarf and all of Sildar’s adventuring equipment, to Cragmaw Castle. Sildar was aware that Klarg had been acting on orders sent from Cragmaw Castle, though the man didn’t know where the castle was located. He had heard something about a ‘Black Spider’ who seemed to be directing things, but who or what that was he couldn’t say.

Sildar revealed that he was a senior agent of the Lord’s Alliance, a group of allied political powers concerned with mutual security and prosperity. Guillerme excitedly said that he was a member of the order also, shaking the warrior’s hand enthusiastically. In addition to aiding Gundren and his two brothers, Tharden and Nundro, in their quest to reopen Phandelver Mine, Sildar is charged by the Lord’s Alliance with restoring order to the region. His contact in Phandalin is a wizard by the name of Iarno Alreck, who travelled to the town some months earlier but is yet to report back to their superiors.

Before falling into a deep sleep, Sildar recounts the tale of the rich mine of Phandelver and the importance of Wave Echo Cave, where a wondrous foundry called the Forge of Spells had been created through the alliance of gnome and dwarf artisans with human wizards, for the purpose of channelling powerful magic into creating potent enchanted artifacts. This had occurred centuries before, bringing peace and prosperity to the region. This peace was shattered by a roving band of orcs and mercenary wizards who attacked Wave Echo Cave in an attempt to seize its riches. Much of the cavern was reportedly destroyed in the ensuing battle, with few making it out alive. The location of the entrance was lost. Sildar’s hope is that, should the Rockseeker brothers be successful, then the prosperity of the mine may reintroduce peace to the region for the benefit of all. 

Phandalin

The next day, the adventurers took as much of the supplies from Klarg’s stash as they could carry to the horse and cart, which were still waiting at the side of the road. They decided not to make multiple trips to fill the wagon and take it all, instead making a note of the location to pass on to those in Phandalin who could come back and recover the rest of it.

As the wagon rolled along the road and to the outskirts of Phandalin, the adventurers could see the town ahead of them – some forty or fifty buildings, mostly simple log constructions, some resting on older stone foundations. A number of crumbling stone walls and fallen blocks surround the newer buildings, indicating that this town was larger in centuries past. Most of the newer buildings are set by the side of the muddy main road, which climbs towards a large, ruined, manor house at the eastern edge of the town. The party could see children playing on the green, while people went about their normal business. Some raised their eyes to look at the cart, laden with crates and the heavily armed party, but they swiftly returned to their errands. Sildar told the group that he was going to find lodgings at the local Stonehill Inn, on the edge of the village green. The rest of the party decided to first return the supplies before meeting their new acquaintance later.

They first visited the Lionshield Coster, easily identified by the blue lion sigil hanging above the door which matches the markings on some of the crates they recovered. Linene Graywind welcomed them to her trading post, looking warily at the armed adventurers until they explained that they had returned stolen supplies to her. Coming outside to look at the cart, she does indeed identify some of the crates as belonging to her – adding that the others had likely come from Barthen’s Provisions. She offered 25 gold pieces for the supplies in the wagon. Guillerme informed her that there is more located in a goblin den to the southwest; Linene is pleased by the news but disappointed that they didn’t bring everything with them when there seemed to be more space in the cart. She is even less impressed by Guillerme’s mercenary attitude when he won’t reveal the location of the supplies without further payment – reluctantly, she handed over an additional 15 gold. As she called for her workers to come and unload the crates, she told the adventurers to feel free to come back any time if they need to purchase any weapons or armour, and she would always give them a fair price. She said that they seemed like they might be able to help the town – not only had they been subjected to banditry on the road, but the Redbrand Ruffians had been causing trouble for businesses within the town. She wouldn’t do business with anyone allied with the Redbrands, and hoped that someone would teach them a lesson. She advised the adventurers to avoid the Sleeping Giant taproom, which sat on the road leading up towards the manor house.  

Continuing their errands, the party drove the cart to the north of the town and returned the rest of the supplies to Barthen’s Provisions, receiving 10 gold for their trouble. Elmar Barthen, a balding man of around 50, is the proprietor of this store which sells all sorts of adventuring items. He has a kindly face and talks with the adventurers about the Lost Mine, letting them know that he has been supplying Gundren’s two brothers with food and equipment since they set up their camp in the wilderness just outside the town. He hasn’t seen them in a tenday, so he expects them to be visiting soon to resupply. Barthen was saddened to hear of Gundren’s capture by the goblins, as he considers the dwarf a friend. Like Linene Graywind, Barthen has been harried by the Redbrands and hoped for someone to enact justice against the ruffians. Enquiring where the group acquired their transportation, Barthen told them that he would be happy to send the horse and cart back to White Willow Farm if they wished, as he had supplies to send there anyway. Now that they had cleared the goblins from the road, he could be more confident in his deliveries arriving unmolested. 

Finally the party headed to the Stonehill Inn, a comfortable establishment with a large common room filled with locals, nursing mugs of ale or cider and eying the party with interest.  The landlord, Toblen Stonehill, is originally from the town of Triboar to the east. He had come to Phandalin to prospect but realised that his talents lay more in running an inn than mining. He is worried for his wife and children (who are also in the common room) because of the trouble being stirred up by the Redbrands. The townmaster, Harbin Wester, has not done enough to deal with the threat in Toblen’s opinion, but he doesn’t want to make a lot of noise about it in case it leads to a retaliation by the Redbrands against his family.   

After purchasing some ale and making provisions for their lodgings, the adventurers decide to find out what rumours or information can be gleaned from the locals in the tavern. Friar Buck approaches a farmer, Narth, and miner, Lanar, who are sitting together. With a genial smile, he drains his mug of ale and asks if a poor priest can share in their jug with them. They pour him a small measure of ale and he sits down with thanks. Narth tells the cleric about Sister Garaele at the Shrine of Luck, who recently left home for a few days and returned wounded and exhausted. The Shrine of Luck is located over the road from the inn. Lanar gloomily added that, if the Redbrands didn’t get them, then the orc raiders that had been spotted on the Triboar Trail (which heads out of the town to the north) probably would.

Elsa, the gossipy barmaid, pushed past Barendil and Kisandra, exclaiming “Oooo, I like your clothes dearies, you look like real adventurers! You know, Daran Edermath the orchard keeper, he used to be an adventurer so he did,” before she bustled off to collect more empty mugs.

Guillerme decided to try and talk to a man in the corner with well-made clothes, though instead of the noble that the paladin was expecting it turned out that Freda was a weaver. He told the paladin that the only business in the town that seems to have escaped the unwanted attention of the Redbrands is the Phandalin Miner’s Exchange. Freda doesn’t know many details, but he suspects they don’t want trouble with Halia Thornton who runs the Exchange.

Having talked to all the locals they wished to, the sun was dipping low outside but the adventurers figured they could investigate what had happened to Sister Garaele, considering her Shrine of Luck was so close to the inn. They wandered into the temple, which was little more than a collection of stones taken from the nearby ruined buildings, but clearly well looked after and dedicated to Tymora, goddess of luck and good fortune. Sister Garaele, a young and scholarly elf nursing a few minor injuries, welcomed the group to the temple. She gets along with Barendil, the two elves conversing with each other convivially. Garaele says that she has been tasked with a delicate task that she hasn’t manage to complete yet, and should the group help her she can reward them with 3 potions of healing. The task is to discover the location of a powerful spell book that belonged to a legendary mage named Bowgentle. She believes that a banshee named Agatha knows the location of this book, and may be persuaded to share the information should her vanity be flattered enough. The Sister handed over a jewelled silver comb that could be used as a bargain for the banshee’s information. She tells the adventurers that the banshee’s lair is located near the village of Coneyberry, along the Triboar Trail to the east. 

The Sleeping Giant Taproom

With darkness settling in, the party returned to the Stonehill Inn. Guillerme suggested they play Dragon Chess, but Nobby decided to do some investigation into these Redbrands that they had heard so much about, figuring that the Sleeping Giant taproom would be the place to start looking. He donned his disguise, regular common clothes, and made to move to the door. Guillerme and Buck were already engrossed in their game and decided to leave the rogue to his own devices. Kisandra quietly said she had a bad feeling about it so Barendil agreed to follow in support of Nobby.

Upon arriving at the taproom, the rogue told the elf to stay back and let him enter alone to get the measure of the place. Barendil sunk back into the shadows but didn’t find it as easy hiding in the street as he would in a forest. As Nobby walked into the room, he had a queasy feeling that all was not well. Four rough figures wearing scarlet cloaks sat or stood by the bar and all turned to eyeball him as the door swung closed behind him. A few miscellaneous patrons looked up and quickly away, sensing trouble. Nobby’s disguise didn’t convince the Redbrands, they know that he came from the Stonehill Tavern and had been asking about them. The four ruffians moved forwards menacingly, so Nobby ducked out of the door and into the street.

Though he tried his best to talk to them, eventually Nobby received a fist to the nose for his pains. Barendil leapt in to aid his companions, but the odds were stacked against the pair – two ruffians for each adventurer. The savage beating was almost entirely one-sided, but Nobby managed to ring his watchman’s bell and call out to a nearby street urchin that he needed assistance. The helpful oik ran off to the Inn where the rest of the adventurers were still engrossed in their game of chess, though they quickly leapt out of their chairs when they heard about the commotion down the road.

Both Barendil and Nobby had been knocked unconscious by the ruffians and were being dragged into the taproom just as their three companions came running down the road. Throwing the door open, Guillerme rushed into the gloomy interior and raised his glaive, realising too late that he had misjudged the length of the weapon and getting it lodged in the doorframe behind him. While working to free the blade, he knocked down some tankards hanging on the wall which landed on his head with a clang. Kisandra sidestepped the struggling paladin and circled her hands before her, muttering an incantation and loosing several magic missiles. Three scarlet points of light flew true towards one thug, knocking him one way and another before his body thudded against the bar then fell, unmoving, to the floor. The two thugs holding her companions looked alarmed at one another, but the third gripped his weapons and began to march towards the sorceress before she sent three more magic missiles darting towards him, lifting him off his feet and dropping him on top of his downed compatriot. She stared at the remaining two Redbrands who immediately dropped Nobby and Barendil’s legs, looked at each other then retreated out the back of the pub. They could both be seen out the window, running towards the ruined manor house as fast as they could. 

A rest and a letter

After returning their injured friends to the Stonehill Inn, the group was able to convince Toblen to provide healing supplies when they told him of how Kisandra had eliminated two of the hated Redbrands. They all took to their beds in the inn, apart from Buck who had convinced the farmer, Qelline Alderleaf, to let him sleep in her hayloft so he could save his coins for another mug or three of ale. As he was finishing his last cup, the door to the inn swung inwards and a familiar figure staggered in. It was one of the farmhands from White Willow Farm, who looked exhausted.

“Oh, I am glad to find you sir, so I am!” exclaimed the panting man. “I run all the way ‘ere from the farm, so I did, to give you this letter.”

And with that, the farmhand handed an envelope to Buck and sank into a nearby chair.

The cleric turned the envelope this way and that in his hands, before opening it. As he did so, a dusting of twinkly snow fell into his lap. “Strange,” he thought, “How is that snow not melted?”

Setting the envelope to one side and dusting himself down, Buck unfolded the letter and read the contents. It read:

“My friends. I thank you for helping me in the past, but things at White Willow Farm have become even more strange since you left. Please, if you can, come back with all haste – I need your assistance!”

Friar Buck carefully folded the letter back up and put it in a pouch. He finished the last dregs of his beer and stood to leave, patting the shoulder of the farmer who had fallen asleep in his chair. The cleric left to find his hayloft bed for the night, but knew he and his companions would have much to discuss in the morning – there were many people who desired their help and a number of tasks for them to pursue.

Next - Session 4 ⏩