Regdoc gasped and coughed weakly. The spear wound was bad and he was leaking blood like a gnomish barrel tap leaked wine. Fantastic inventors those week folk, but the old cleric often wondered why they couldn't fabricate a decent tap. Regdoc grunted, held the end of the spear toward his trusty pack dog, "Grab hold you filthy wretch!"

Chomper caught the spear shaft in his huge mouth, his sharp teeth making dents into the wood. He looked at Regdoc, cocking an eye as if asking, Are you sure about this?

Regdoc grunted and then motioned for Chomper to pull... which he did. The cleric looked toward the far horizon, direction was not important, and stifling a cry of pain, called upon the Wandering God for aid before collapsing.

A moment later, he heard Brother Brodd and felt himself being shaken awake. He groaned again and pulled his bloodied hands away from the wound, revealing that it was completely healed!

"Praise His Dusty Footsteps!"


Cure Light Wounds on self: Regdoc rolled 5 using 1d6+1 ((4)).

The bard hunkered down and waited for another opportunity to strike with his bow. They'd taken a couple of casualties, but both looked to have been graced by concerned Deities to continue their sojourn upon this world...

"We'd best get the elf and move along before those gobs find their courage anew!"

In reply to Harald (msg # 84):

"Who are you master elf?" Brodd asks the newcomer before them.

Alietra looks and sees the dog rip a spear out of the old young man.

"Regdoc! I... "

Before she can say anything, she sees the fellow shouting with happiness, without a wound. She sees Manaku in similar health.

(Whew)

"Reminded again of why I chose this strange and wonderful group."

She maintains cover (limited armor afterall) and readies an arrow in the direction she heard the noise, waiting for anyone who would pose a threat to those around her.

Seeing Brodd looking over the newcomer elf, Pock took a position nearby and kept a stone ready in his sling, keeping an eye out. The image of the diminutive and goofy-looking gnome, half-shrouded in fog, attempting to watch over his tall friends was ridiculous.

"Got him Pock? Who are you elf, what were you doing that the gobs got you?"

The newcomer to the party tries to speak, but he is still disoriented from being thrown down the laces of a colossal stone sandal.

He mutters something between coughs that sounds like Aerosol Ankhenatun.

Efforts such as slapping the elf and splashing wine in his face are not enough to rouse him, at this time.

"Maybe we take him somewhere safe and he'll wake up later?"

In reply to Pock Oneshoe (msg # 91):

"Yes, perhaps I'll be able to heal him later, maybe Regdoc can too. Once we're free of these gnats above."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:58, Tue 01 Sept 2020.

Having no luck finding a path to climb up the goblins, Einhard returns to the group. "No sign of Starshell's scarf. We must continue searching."

Leohart gets ready to go back to searching, but it leery of goblins in the area.

Gorn keeps his hands on his bow, eyes alert for the goblins.

"It appears we lost our quarry Pock, Travis is gone without trace, now we have another helpless one to help."

Brodd looks over the elf to check his wounds.

"Perhaps we should set up camp next to the other sandal, on the opposite side so they can't shoot at us from their vantage point above."

"That sounds as safe as anywhere else to me, Your Highness." He turned to Brodd, started trying to support the weight of this elf. "Well, friend, let's get this elf over there."

Leo will help carry the elf.

Oi! what's this? Duarghar looks at the sandle.
They ain't climbers hiding in just any old hole...

Duarghar looks at the others. These sandles are a deliberate hidden staircase - look at that angle and the stone work! This is the path and it goes right on up!

"Should we follow?"

"We might want to get this elf conscious before we do anything like that."

"I would be willing to go up, but certainly not alone"

Alietra looks around at those who haven't spoken yet.

"Falling back and getting the elf conscious first is also an option.  What do you think?"

"To the opposing sandal, I think! Be plenty of time when this man's up and at it, says I."

"The Lady Knight here has a point. This lair may be to cramped too hold all of us at once. We could get trapped by our own numbers if they ambush us. You ever had to squeeze out four people stuck in a dungeon's door frame? It's not pretty."

Leohart tries one again to rouse the elf.

"Aye, I don't like the idea of camping when there are goblins close."