Caravan, Kobolds...
Traders arrived - apparently they had managed to find us, lost here in the edges of this hellish mountain range. Wiping off goop, they settled down in our depot (thoughtfully built outside the area where the bad rain falls) and unloaded a wide assortment of wonderous goods.
We told them we wanted the food, and the booze.
Negotiations for as much food and booze as possible (trading our wide array of stone artwork, and cut lapis lazuli) are ongoing.
While Esran was taking a handful of marquis cut lapis lazuli to the trade depot, who should make an appearance than a band of sneaky kobolds, stealing in to the shadows of the fortress to try to make off with some of our riches. I suspect these were the most desperate or stupid kobolds in the history of that not particularly bright anyway race.
The first was spotted, and immediately the cry went out for the militia to pursue it, and try to stop it getting away. The militia (daydreamweaver) scrambled to catch it, but she was too late - it scurried off out of sight just as she realised that maybe she should have brought an axe with her.
She quickly looked round to check noone had saw her mistake, and found herself starting straight at a beady pair of red eyes - another kobold.
Not for nothing did I mention her prodigious strength. The kobolds dagger skidded along the leather of her cloak, before her fist sunk into the scrawny creature's belly. "The kobold feels extremely nauseous".
The kobold didn't get another swing. He lay on the ground, vomiting, as in quick succession our brave militia locked and broke his arm, shattered the other arm with a kick, bruised his liver with another mighty bodyblow, and then caved in the hapless creature's skull with a punch, stopping only to vomit from the goop that fell on them during the fight.
Lieing on her back next to the kobold's corpse, she looked up in to the sky, and saw white flakes drifting down towards her.
Winter has come.
We told them we wanted the food, and the booze.
Negotiations for as much food and booze as possible (trading our wide array of stone artwork, and cut lapis lazuli) are ongoing.
While Esran was taking a handful of marquis cut lapis lazuli to the trade depot, who should make an appearance than a band of sneaky kobolds, stealing in to the shadows of the fortress to try to make off with some of our riches. I suspect these were the most desperate or stupid kobolds in the history of that not particularly bright anyway race.
The first was spotted, and immediately the cry went out for the militia to pursue it, and try to stop it getting away. The militia (daydreamweaver) scrambled to catch it, but she was too late - it scurried off out of sight just as she realised that maybe she should have brought an axe with her.
She quickly looked round to check noone had saw her mistake, and found herself starting straight at a beady pair of red eyes - another kobold.
Not for nothing did I mention her prodigious strength. The kobolds dagger skidded along the leather of her cloak, before her fist sunk into the scrawny creature's belly. "The kobold feels extremely nauseous".
The kobold didn't get another swing. He lay on the ground, vomiting, as in quick succession our brave militia locked and broke his arm, shattered the other arm with a kick, bruised his liver with another mighty bodyblow, and then caved in the hapless creature's skull with a punch, stopping only to vomit from the goop that fell on them during the fight.
Lieing on her back next to the kobold's corpse, she looked up in to the sky, and saw white flakes drifting down towards her.
Winter has come.