Taranis; Human Storm Druid 1
Bar Marak; Dwarf Gunslinger 1
Karn; Dwarf Inquisitor 1
Vaclav; Dhampir Alchemist 1
Jalapeno; Ratfolk Rogue 1
"Greetings Travelers, Welcome to the town of Sandpoint.
Sandpoint, safely nestled in a cove on the edge of the Varisian Gulf, is bustling with activity. Although it is officially the first day of Autumn, the salty sea breeze seems to have kept the temperature to a a comfortable level, hovering delicately between "Warm" and "Cool". The trees of the surrounding forest have yet to turn, and their verdant greens serve to accent the the blues of the sky and ocean wonderfully. The wind, still redolent of blooming flowers and ocean scents, seems to flow through the town lazily, slowly perfuming the entire town in its fragrant aroma. Birds chirp, insects buzz, and squirrels chatter; nature itself seems to be in a celebratory mood this day. The sun, shining brightly in the nearly-cloudless sky, marks the time as being quite close to noon, which indicates the Swallowtail Festival is about to kick off in earnest."
The group were individually plucked from the crowd and assigned to a tug-of-war team. They were useless as most of them were pretty weak. The people of Sandpoint joshed good naturedly, but perhaps some would resent the public humilition. In any case, they were left alone to lick their wounds, socialise, drink and eat some of Ameiko's famous curry-spiced salmon. All was well.
And then the Goblins showed up and started torching the place. Little twats. The group may have been bested in some dumb muscle competition, but they felt a common cause and were alarmingly heavily armed considering they were at a fun street party. The Goblins were prancing about, singing daft songs, eating chicken and setting fire to dogs. No good, so the group had to shoot them.
Karn, the lawman of Abadar did well, capping one of the little monsters with his crossbow. Jalapeno did what he had to do and hid under a table before shooting a fool in the head. If the people of Sandpoint weren't terrified enough, the rest of the group made sure of it when Taranis the Druid ran around with a scythe of all things and Bar Marak the mercenary pulled out his gun and started blasting away, even when one enemy hit him with his rusty knife. Not to be outdone, the bad Doctor Vaclav adjusted his plague mask, opened his coat, then casually began tossing firebombs around the place, indifferent to property or teammates.
The Goblins died of course.
The threat wasn't over. Father Zantus encouraged them to hunt down other Goblin rioters and the group cheerfully agreed. They ran up the road to find four more, one of them a Bard, singing another fucking silly song…
Body count: 3 Goblins
Notes: First session teething. All okay.