Upon our return to the Snotty Nosed Goblins, with our spoils of War, we were greeted with terrible news; Arg is dead, eaten by the Eels living near the latrine.  Upon investigation an Eel dared to attack me, but against a master of shade and fire it stood no chance as I stepped through fire and death out of its reach.  I sense foul play; the bugbears are behind this, with their little collection of bullied Goblins.  But we arrived in time for the feast, the goblins cooked up the half-elf we recovered and held a celebration to their god.

I decided enough was enough; we needed to strike against the humans.  We travelled to the logging station east of the Orc tribe and struck a mighty blow upon them; or that was the plan.  I glided like a wraith through the night, but Xorox blundered like a man with his eyes ripped out and his feet burnt off, alerting the guard to our presence (so plan A, burn down the lumber hut and observe their response was out).  Instead we lured them into an ambush; a battle that went well with little lose to us.  Their guards are well trained and strong (for humans) so a direct assault on their compound will not work, at least until we have weaken them a bit more.  But we had a few corpses and their equipment as spoils; both of which were gratefully received by the Snotty Nosed Goblins.

Xorox’s Diary

Dire Diary,

Yesterday my colleagues and I made some gains in the evil stakes. We began with a feast of roasted nymph (sourced by our own unfair hands) that we had given to the chief of the local nose-based goblin tribe. Things took a turn for the worse when it appeared that the Armour Chap’s goblin factotum (aptly named Arg) had gone missing and possibly been eel-ed to death. I think we all suspect some treachery from the bugbears. Note to self: the bugbears must be destroyed.

I joined the Armour Chap and the Lizardy Fellow on a sojourn to the humans’ logging camp to the south. Upon approaching the camp I pretended to trip clumsily, causing my own armour to make a suspicious noise. Of course this was but a subterfuge and we used this incident lure out several of the humans and their monstrous hound. During the ensuing melee I slew the hound and aided in mopping up the rest of the loggers. We left when the battle attracted the attention of the rest of the humans and hopped it back to the goblin camp with our ill gotten human meat. This pleased the chief so much he let us off the guard duty we pretend to do.

Blood and souls to Asmodeus,

Xorax

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This tribe is pitiful, we are “living” with the goblins, the weakest, lowest of the tribe.  They are a sorry state, Snotti has been making friends with his generosity (a smart move, the goblins will accept one of their own more readily than the rest of us, with a will to follow based on something more than physical treat).  One of the Goblins, Arg, lost his food to the rest, so I stepped in and ensured he got his share.  We need to work together and to break down the culture of bullying and mistreatment to the weak.  Arg seems to like me now, odd creature but he may serve in an experiment; I will need to think on this.

The Bugbears have acted, as expected seeing as we bluffed our way in by replacing them.  They attacked whilst the other slept (I was lost in my revel of pain and loss; is it really better in this world, suffering completed me down there for I deserved it, here there is a void there must be some way to fill it).  One jumped on Snotti but his wolf leapt to his defence, the other attacked Ssith who threw him aside and rose like a storm.  I would have said this fight was uneven and acted, but the Lords Below obviously felt now was not the time, for my powers flew wild (I felt their hand in this, a reminder that I do not have my freedom, just the illusion, a revelation that felt like red hot dagger in my gut…it felt soooo good), until Snotti came close to falling.  I have recently found a way to isolate some of my Flame, my infernal essence, and share it with others; Snotti was the first of my companions to feel the joy of Infernal Fire, repairing his body (at the cost of a small debt applied to his soul, I won’t burden him with such knowledge yet) and keeping him awake.  Ssith fought well but he was eventually overmatched, but not before the other bugbear fell before the power of my Fire.  Now the wounded Bugbear and I battled, Scythe and Morningstar clashing in a shower of sparks, distracted by Snotti’s wolf he never saw my blade strike, felling him.  Luckily for both I was not aiming to kill, they will have their uses in the days ahead.

After the battle we became heroes to the goblins, who jumped on their bugbear oppressors with great glee as we left the cavern to go to our new quarters, the bugbears old hut.  Arg has taken a shine to me, I have decided to see if a mere goblin, the weakest of his clan, can be raised into something better.

Another clash with the bugbears this morning; they need to be put in their place and reminded they have lost their “lofty” position and to not abuse the goblins.  They are not happy but they will learn or suffer.  We have an audience with the Chief tomorrow, before that we must formula a plan.  The Tribes hunter told us what he knows of the local land, not much but the dwarven mine is an attractive target.  We will need to find some way through to them; their front is heavily guarded and fortified (there is an abandoned mine further down in the hills, I wonder if any tunnels in that mine link up with the dwarves, or if they are close enough to tunnel through?).  For now we have decided to investigate the Dam, some creature dwells there, as does a humanoid of some sort, be they ally or enemy we do not yet know.

The Rise of the Snot Nosed Goblins is at hand!

Snotty’s log

muah’ gets goblin hole, big deep. big goblin angry
down is boss, and bones. muah’ hungry, find nham nham.
goblin hole little nham nham, bad. go snore.
wake big goblin beat muah’! dog bites big goblin, leaves muah’ alone.
big snake man fall, wolf and scary metal beat big goblin.
now muah’ big nham nham, good.

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We have put forward our plan to begin exploring the area and received the Chief’s blessing, but he denied our request to bring Arg along, pity for he needs battle experience.  A straggler from the Red hand has arrived, Xorax the Hobgoblin (but there is a mutable feel about him) and joined with us.  Our rest was disturbed by Goblins arguing over the chiefs preferred fare, Dwarf or Eel, a minor point that we might use to curry favour with him.

After a delightful walk through the barren hills we entered what can only be described as a most horrific landscape, Tree, flowers, birds singing..awful.  Upon our entry to this…Forest… we were accosted by a plant thing that told Xorax and I to leave, but invited in Sith (no accounting for taste); unfortunately he cannot speak the bottom dweller common tongue, or the pansy accursed language of the elves (it makes me sick to utter anything other than curses in elvish) and it refused to allow me to enter as his translator; so he ventured forth alone.  The truth account of his meeting may never be known (I may hunt down the strumpets soul one day and “inquire” about it) but Sith returned freshly fed and watered with tales of a nature creature, a druid he said (With a barely concealed rage, I think he holds an unjust grudge against Druids just because they wiped out his family..I mean everyone’s committed genocide at some point in their lives haven’t they.  I still hold that Orphanage attacked me first) with a friend wandering the area, a nomadic ranger with a bound spirit in the lake (which we would later learn is a water elemental), A target for another day.

So we made our preparations and struck forth to destroy this blight upon all that is twisted and foul.  We quickly ran afoul of the plant creature again, and we almost talked our way past it with a brilliant deception spun by myself, but the Lizardman Dance of Thanks (the only thing Sith had to do to valid my entire cunning ruse) was a pathetic jump-jump-twist-lunge affair instead of jump-jump-twist-pirouette-splits-brisé-demi detourné-jazzhands and we couldn’t persuade it to allow us though to perform for the Druid, so we killed it instead.  Unfortunately it keened loudly, alerting the druidess, and it had the most irritating ability to entrap our legs, effectively putting Sith out of the fight as he just stood there (we need to get him a large pointy pole or something) but it misjudged the Awesome Power at my command.  It foolishly closed with me, thinking to avoid my hellfire by being closer. HA HA HA HAAA, for I can channel my hellfire through my scythe, as soon as it saw that it trembled in fear and fell before my power, and what passed for a soul tasted like basil, very odd but even the infernal Powers like the odd bit of topiary.

Now the preliminaries where out of the way onto the main course; we found her by her hut on guard and warning us off, as if we would allow this blight on the world to endure.  She called another plant creature and bushes to her aid.  Once more Sith was neutered most of the fight, and Xorax spent most of his time pruning bushes but the plant creature fell before him (after being weakened by the Hellborn Powers of the greatest evil around (this small forest area)..me) and without the infernal infusions at my command Sith would have fallen (not that he realised each time he taste of my essence he pulls himself closer to hell, for I can be subtle as well).  With Sith and Xorax finally free of their bonds (and the odd perfumes this Druid keep chucking around that seemed to dope them) we combined our power against the Druid and she fell, but not before running to the lake and raising help in the form of a water elemental (the powerful spirit ally from before).  A creature of good has fallen, a guardian of nature is gone; our first strike to weaken good in this land has been struck with no loses to us, a mighty Victory indeed (plus there appears to be Eels in the lake, so a fishing expedition beckons).

Siths Log

We attended the guard duties given to us by the small ones only to keep their peace. This place reeks of dank decay, the sooner we get out into the wilds again the better, and too that end Skara has obtained an audience with our so called leaders. On the morning of the 8th day of our mission to this forgotten place another companion was sent, Xorax a hobgoblin of fearsome appearance, much more promising than the whelps we have been traveling with.

Skara managed to convince the snotty nosed goblins to let us out and start exploring to see if we can get some decent food for ourselves. He seems focused on helping the weaker race, I’m not convinced these goblins will live up to his expectations.

We set out with little aid of our new masters; they expect everything and give nothing. They are not worthy of our allegiance, but if we are to raise our standing in the Red Hand we must aid them.

We struck out for the lake to the North West, We decided that anything else in the region would mean certain death for us.

We reached a rich grove that was much plusher than any of the surrounding lands and when some kind of Vine Creature emerged from the bushes my suspicions were confirmed, here dwelt the forces of nature: druids. My blood boiled at the sight of this creature but I calmed my pick, the ease this creature hid made me think there could be many more close by. For some reason it thought I was a friend, my southern cousins must be soft indeed. With Skara’s help I asked for supplication, and travelled with this abomination to its master. Her features were typical of soft skinned races and it took all my will and cunning not to reveal my hand. I could feel power emanating from her and learned all I could about her allies but we did not share a common tongue.

After feeding I reconvened with my allies and relayed what I had learnt. Thankfully they saw the need to eliminate this stain on the land. Knowing she had allies and no way too know where they were we devised a plan to draw them out, playing on their previous good will. The Vine beast saw through our plan and we had to make a quick decision, Attack or leave? There was only one option, the gods called for blood and souls. These creatures used many tricks to hold us in place and weave their magic from afar. The scales on my feet are cracked from the vines clinging to my legs. After hacking our way through the druid’s plant-minions we chased her out into the water. A powerful water elemental appeared just as we managed to knock the bitch out. I blacked out as I reached the shore and my brethren pulled me to safety.

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Pain, Suffering, Torment…These where the milk and honey of life, burning forever in the grip of vengeful demons barred from the World Above.  Eternity passed and I suffered in the grip of Vice, in the thrall of Pride, unforgiving masters all; but new torments are a rare treat for the jaded, crushed despairing souls ground under the crimson throne.  The Lords Below offer a new torment…FREEDOM.

They release me into the World Above, to walk were they cannot, free of their hand (or so they would have me believe) to gather the Souls of the Good and Pure; and to address the balance. Good has gained too much power, so evil must rise or the world will fall into Heaven.

Torment anew; Goblins and Kobolds and Lizardmen Oh my.  Living like a savage when once I lived like…a King, a lord those memories are so far away.  No leave the past a distant country focus…FOCUS .  Death my ambrosia, suffering my wine.  The frail, fragile sub-normals I travel with now are required, they are all required.  Every hand of Darkness, every malicious thought must be gathered and nurtured, we need them all.  Cast out to find the artfully monikered “Snotty Nose Goblins” by my new lord Azar Kul (He who followed the 5 headed dragon, she is not a pretty sight when enraged, I have suffered her wrath before, force to bear her weight with a million other souls in the great concordance celebrations, bearing her upon a Throne cast of Gold and Bone).  I feel every stare, every muttered word in the shadows; they are watching, waiting for me to fail, to give me a taste of sweet life and snatch it away.

Wolf Souls taste of cloves and dirt.  Better than nothing.  My new chains of purgatory are not as inept as first thought, the Lizard especially can take many a pounding but is easily enraged, and I need to watch the Kobold…he’s sneaky, and the goblin..ha, he passes himself off as a mystic but  I see through his deception, Simple powders and pongs of goblin kind are his weapons…but if a sub-normal can discover those, what else can he find?  My gift of hellfire is fickle.  It has the power to slay them all, to burn the world but it is not mine to command.  I am a vessel through which the Lords Below can dance upon the world

Dearest Diary, I have a new friend, he is called Stemug.  I need to find a leash for him or he will run.  He is fragile and frail, more so than a normal goblin.  We are now in a stinking hole, cold, damp and reeking of ineptitude.  They will need my leadership if they wish to rise, I will guide them.  Yurz and Weenog lead this clan, for now.  I have been sent a vision by the Lords Below, Stemug must rise if they are to be saved.  He must become the new chief. I must keep this hidden for now, until the time is right.  When I return my torments will be anew, fresh…I must delay my decent, every soul I send them delays my fall… how many to elevate me to paradise?  For I wish to see it BURN.

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 Scara :

K’Scara’Tir (A.K.A Scara), Tortured Soul, Gather of Spirits and agent from Infernal Accounts, is a soul released by the Lords Below into the Land of the Living to collect the Souls of the Great, the Good or just the middlingly indifferent to both weaken the forces of light (why are too powerful in this world) and to placate some of the more active evil deities who want dwell within the Infernal Realms (As Tenants go they can cause a mess so the Landlords have to keep them sweet, try having a complaints call from Tiamat [see here]) by providing support to the ailing evil nations.  His tormented Soul “lives” inside a suit of armour made from the flayed skin of Sinner condemned to eternal torture.  After an eon of torment he does not know what or who he was (the only remnant is his skill and knowledge of the Arcane), all he knows is pain, suffering and this brief release from Hell.  He desires to stay out of hell for as long as possible, so he will work to aid, support and unite the Evil Races and to pull as many souls into hell in his place to placate his masters.

Motivation:  Mass slaughter and soul Harvest; corruption of the pure and working to bring all the evil nations together in unity (Best displayed as a mass choreographed musical event).

Like: Not being in Hell, Walks on the beach and burning the life out of weaker life forms

Dislike: Being in Hell, undue optimism about the afterlife and annoyingly precocious children

Sith :

Sith, full name Sithilis. Sith grew up in the swaps north east of the red hand in a large-ish tribe of lizard folk. When he was just a hatchling, the local druids were pressing deeper into his tribes lands looking for rare herbs and game. His tribe started to defend themselves from these intrusions killing and eating anyone who intruded. Seeing a threat to their own lands even though they were the intruders the druids hired some adventures to seek out and destroy the lizard folks village deep in the swamps. Following a night of flames and fear Sith found himself with a small group of family fending for themselves in the swamps. With only his elderly mother and aunt as the adults with a few siblings they were forced into a nomadic lifestyle living off what they could find in the swamps, being moved on repeatedly by other small tribes and fleeing from wandering Druids.

With a deep seed of hate for all of the soft skinned races planted, a hard child hood of fear and hardship shaped Sith into a young fighter with little attachment. As he and what was left of his family reached what would be teenage years in human terms, the death of their parents and constant fighting for what little food could be found pushed them apart. The warm climbs of the mountains called to Sith, he saw them as a refuge from the forest dwelling Druids and possibly a place to martial his will and train for when he returned. Soon after leaving the swamp by chance a roving band of Redhand found him. Alone and threatened he puffed his chest and roared at the rag tag group of monsters. Impressed by his size and the ferocity of his will, the leader took a chance and offered him a chance to earn a place for himself in the Redhand.

Being of a race where size and frills are everything Sith has little respect for the smaller races, and would sooner eat them than listen to them, but as a lizard out to prove his worth and like all the Redhand he has put away his prejudices and is willing to fight along side some uncommon allies.

His main motivation is survival right now, but in the depts of his soul burns a hatred and desire for revenge against the Druids and other soft skinned races. He has little understanding of the normal social mores of orcs and goblins other than being big and tough gets respect.

Xorax

Xorax was taken from the Random Organ tribe of Hobgoblins at a young age, to be enrolled into the Deep Red Brotherhood of Asmodeus.

After coming of age and growing the Unholy Goatee the Nine Inner Secrets (of which there were ten, this fact being the first secret), were revealed to him and he was at last given Blackguard rank. He was given the black and red armour with sharp protrusions that provided him with the respect, fear and neglect for health and safety his position demands.

Xorax was involved in the inquisition known as the Annunciation of Pronunciation where those who did not put the accent on the correct portions of Asmodeus’s name (the ‘a’ and the ‘e’), were cleansed from the Goblinoid tribes of the area. For ‘cleansed’ read ‘flung into a spiked wall at high speed’.

Since then he has been sent to promote the cause of organised diabolism and engage in blasphemous acts throughout the land. His plans and schemes have been charitably described as remarkable, his imagination far outstripping his intelligence. Each plot, whether successful or disastrous, is entered into with an evil smile and a nefarious raising of an eyebrow.

Soggy :

The wise scholars of the human city of Knut have a tradition of research into the magical customs of other races. It was in this spirit that the young monk Rwinda decided to dedicate his life to the study of the shamanistic ways of the Goblin race. A dangerous life goal, certainly, but one which would earn him the reputation of a serious scholar he yearned.

And a reputation indeed he got. Rwinda visited the various tribes, capturing specimens and conducting destructive experiments, acquiring great knowledge in the process.

Until he managed to get his hands on a very singular specimen, an underdeveloped young goblin, probably an orphan, which had around it all the hallmarks of a shaman in training, but which seemed to have been very maltreated. It is known for Goblin shaman masters to harshly punish their underlying when they don’t fulfil their expectations, and this one has probably been a great disappointment to its tutor.

The other captured goblins of its clan called it Muah’ gbuhn, which translates to “Filthy Maw”, a very honest nomen, given that it would put anything remotely digestible into his mouth.

When it was time for Filthy Maw’s final contribution to science, a very unexpected thing happened. It managed to grab hold of a portion of sulphur from Rwinda’s desk, and, as his assistants were trying to cuff its arms and legs, threw it at their eyes, blinding them. Then, in a single movement, it jumped on the lab desk, grabbing several flasks and throwing them at the remaining guards. The acid in them gave the guards severe discomfort and possibly a lifetime of amusing tavern show and tell.

After releasing the remaining goblins, he approached the scared monk, with murder in his eyes. He had time to hear the puny human’s last words: “You are indeed a Singularity!”, before the goblin’s club descended on his skull.

Soggy Larry, also known as Filthy Maw, is a relatively unimportant shaman of the minor house of Blugh, from the cowardly clan of the Dirty Razors. He is not a true Shaman, in the strictest sense, as his methods are unconventional, but very effective. His goal in life is to sample the finest cuisines of the different cultures which inhabit this world. Naaa, just kidding! He just wants to survive for a few more years.

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The arrival of humans over the centuries has upset the balance of power and now, the forces of Light, Law and Goodness are winning – are you the Chosen Ones capable of turning back the tide or are the “Evil” races doomed?

4th Ed D&D with a Twist – you play the monster.

GM

Drew

Players

Pete O – Scara the Damned Soul Warlock

James G – Sith the Lizardmand Fighter

Simon W – Xorox the hobgoblin Blackguard

Occasional Players

Marco – Soggy the Goblin Shaman

Andrew – Shifty the Kobold Rogue

Our Adventures

Character Backgrounds

Session 1 – 16/01/2012

Session 2 – 23/01/2012

Session 3 – 30/01/2012

Session 4 – 06/02/2012

Session 5 – 13/02/2012

Session 6 – 20/02/2012

Mutant Lord is Iain.

Players are Joe, AJ and Susan.

New players welcome.

Players: Laura, Drew, James.

More players welcome.