Phandelver + Storm King and beyond

Cragmaw Hideout

I'm not sure this crew is up to this task, as little as it seems. With our numbers and apparent abilities, we ought to have been able to make quick work of a small force of goblins. Instead, we flailed about enough that Quinys - Dagger – to insist that we wait the day out and see how the Cragmaw respond to our intrusion. One small positive is the company of a tressym familiar of Edric's who has adopted the name "Catbird". He's an adorable little scamp, well worth the evening's delay, and excuse enough to try to understand how he speaks. For now, we have Edric alone to translate; I am not the least bit confident that he's translating truthfully. Catbird seems to understand us well enough (especially Rowan). Company VIP for certain.

We've broken through their defenses now, but at enormous cost. Quinys is distraught, Onys is brooding, Valorn is trying to get us to think positive – and Edric's just being an ass. Catbird, you were loved not long enough and departed too quickly. May you find r

This fucking asshole.

With Catbird returned from what I can only assume is the fae equivalent of a fucking nap, Edric, you heartless twit, our company is rejoined and we proceed into the cavern with Catbird at the head. There's yet more work to be done – I haven't gotten any goblins to slow their assault enough to speak to them before defending ourselves, but sooner or later we're bound to find one of these assholes who'll tell us about his genius plan to eat a human or whatever, then I'll finally be able to sweet-talk them. Despite the smell of stagnant air and the bodies of goblins and wolves – fresh and old – we spent the night holding position. They sent no forces to challenge us, which is strategically… perplexing. Ona says good odds on there being a trap up ahead, Edric says they're not smart enough for that, Valorn won't stop chuckling at his own jokes.

The bet is a draw. The goblins had set a trap, but unwisely. Our defiance of goblin ingenuity earned me an audience with Yeemick. As expected – 'look at our powerful conquest that you've spent the past two days rolling back, look at our captive beautiful lady, look at him, does not he look delicious, as delicious as you perhaps??' Typical. It's been too long since I've parlayed with his kind, it's such a relief to just drop the fucking act and curse up a storm in common course of conversation. Impressed the wizard with my wisdom, so suck it, Edric. There's this bugbear called Klarg who's spent the last few weeks corralling these fiends into its dirty work. They've agreed to release Sildar - the human we sought – despite his atrocious blue garb. In exchange, they expect the murder or repellence of Klarg.

It's a grim result, but we've managed, curses on the lot. Sildar recovered, Valorn slapped to the ground with no opportunity to strike back, a direwolf torn to shreds and a bugbear decapitated. I think I might be able to help him, but we've got to get out of here first. There's a lot of stuff here that Yeemick and crew clearly stole from Lionshield Coster caravans, so we're stealing it back (yay!)

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