So I really thought I was heading for a TPK tonight.
Our Heroes started out in dire straits: the fighter was playing Tyr with a bear-sized warg, the wizard was locked in another room, the druid was separated, and the rest of the party was about to be filled full of arrows by the goblins in the balcony.
* the barbarian climbing a dwarven statue to get to the balcony and attack the archers
* the bard using “goes to 11” to make the warg throw its rider
* the fighter disarming the wargrider (after being pierced by his lance), ripping the barbed spear out of his side, and impaling the goblin with it.
* Rats. So many rats.
* The wizard animating the warg’s corpse. “I choose that it doesn’t look dead.” “…it has no head.” “I put it back together.”
Battered and bleeding, they holed up to rest, failing to realize that one goblin had slipped away from the slaughter and gone to warn his masters…until the hobgoblins formed a shield wall outside the room they were in. Insults were thrown, bluffs were called, and the evil priest who has been behind much of the campaign so far arrives.
“You have been a thorn in my side for f—” he begins.
Wizard: “I took fireball last time I leveled up.”
Being a necromancer, the fireball was actually made of hellfire that burned the very soul of its victims, slaying all but the priest and the hobgoblin leader. The fighter made short work of the latter, but the priest took control of the ghastly green flames, turning them on the party, bringing the wizard within an inch of death and wounding the druid.
Barbarian: “I refuse to burn cowering in a room.” She charged through the flames, trusting to speed and rage to keep her alive long enough to reach her foe. And she did, cleaving him from skull to pelvis in a single blow.
It was epic.
Now they just have to figure out what to do about what’s beneath the dwarven mine…