Chapter 1: Making Introductions

Zrus chuckles lightly Light is ok. We have lights inside too. he says as you head down a ladder to a narrow hallway below. You can see the flickering of torchlight to the south. You see a few goblins throughout the place as you walk through the twisting halls. They give you a sideways glance here and there, but stay out of your way.

Zrus leads you south, through the caves to a tall room with some tattered carpets laid out on the floor. The grizzled goblin sitting in a broken velvet chair looks over you with a sneer.

Who are these bigfolk Zrus? You walk them right into our home? What is this? he says, voice full of loathing.

Hmmm, you dislike orcs too? Lurzook says, scratching the few scraggly hairs on his ruddy chin. The orcs tried to run us out of our lair. Bamzhull the Rotten, they say commands them. At least, that's what their brute said. Lurzook showed him what was the answer. he says with a snicker as he pats a rusted scimitar that hangs at his side. Orc has two mouths now, to talk better. He looks over to Zrus. This one had big idea. Pretend to be orcs, scare off other people. Where are the others now Zrus? he sneers with contempt.

Zrus looks own at the dirt and kicks his feet softly. Bigfolk killed them. Before they could say anything. Faster even than Lurzook killed the orc. They are strong Lurzook. he says sheepishly.

They killed goblins and you bring them into our home!? he says, a touch of fear swirling in his eyes at the thought that he may be killed outright in their own home. But alongside that, you can easily see the conniving part of his brain working trying to figure out how to use this to his advantage.

Food?! You tell me you mistakenly kill three of our kin and now you want food? Lurzook says, seemingly surprised. Perhaps you can earn food. You agree to go kill Bamzhull, you can have saltfish. You bring his head back, you can feast. he says, chest swelling with obvious pride at his excellent deal making tactic. He waves his hand and Zrus runs off out of the room.

Lurzook's eyes fill with a greedy twinkle. Bamzhull is not alone, he has a whole crew of his own, six of them. Maybe eight. Watch for his mage, Hef the Wrathful. She is even worse than he is. They like weak travelers. We watch from shadows and trees. They ruin road, wait for travelers to wreck and then move in. Play weak, they come for sure. he says, cackling softly.

With even the slightest bit of thought, this seems to match up with some of the reports you'd gotten in your chats with the townsfolk.

It's not nighttime, old bigfolk. Can't watch when orcs aren't out! You stay, we show you tonight. Sit, play cards. Or we can show you where we watch them now and you watch for them at night. And yes, I am afraid of Bamzhull. Out there. In here, no. Out there, he would squash Lurzook like a maggot. he says, lowering his voice so his admission of fear doesn't travel beyond your ears. Almost as an afterthought, he looks to Alan. We continue to live as we did before orcs. Scavenging the woods.