A Storm in the Vale

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As the night went on, the rain from the storm continued to fall at ever increasing rates. As the clouds continued to grow, the tavern became more and more enshrouded in darkness.

Bjorn, still tending to the few patrons still at the bar, thought to himself, “I haven’t seen a storm like this in ages. Feels almost as if the storm has a mind of its own.” He kept the thought to himself while cleaning a glass. Slightly unnerved, he shook his head bringing his attention back to the bar, and poured a large draft of mead for a new traveler. Aveanth had just arrived to the tavern seeking warmth, a dry bed, and some of the Vale’s finest drink. “Glad you came in when you did” Bjorn said, sliding the mead towards Aveanth. “Seems it’s something fierce out there. If you’re looking for Snorf, the groups over there.”

In the room off from the center of the tavern, Sir Snorfkin sat with the rest of the group, continuing to tell them about the composition of the Vale. Aveanth, fresh glass of mead and plate of grub in hand, joined the group to listen to Sir Snorfkin recount his knowledge of the region:

“So, my friends, the Vale of Snorf is a vast area encompassed by two major mountain ranges, one to the North and one to the South.” Sir Snorfkin sat on a stool next to the fire, warming his hands.

“What are those mountains called?” Bee asked inquisitively.

“To the South lies the Hawixia Mountain Range, a cold and harsh area. Often covered in snow and ice, it’s a treacherous realm. Ice golems and wolves roam the forest at the base of it, while the mountains themselves are too cold, even for those creatures to live there. The Northern mountains are the Nazu Mountain Range. Cloudy and rainy usually, those are much more gloomy, but the climate isn’t as inhabitable. It’s not pleasant, more of a constant wet drizzle so things are dank and soggy. But even on the worst days, the weather isn’t as bad as this”, Snorf motioned to the storm outside through the window. Just as he moved his hand, a loud crack erupted from a lightning strike in the near distance.

“Oy Snorf!” a laughing Kira exclaimed, “You have some magic too?”

“Heh, none like that. At least that I’m aware of” a slightly unnerved Snorf answered. Something about the thunder felt ominous.

The wind from the storm picked up, battering the branches outside into the Tavern windows. Anachron and Ulfric looked at the window, back to each other curiously, and took another swig of their ales before listening to Sir Snorfkin continue.

“Those mountain ranges are important to the Vale and are home to many creatures, I have ventured there many times and discovered many great things. But we can’t forget, there are also lands beyond the mountain ranges, and also to the east from Sweetwater Plain. To the south one can discover the……….”

At precisely the moment Sir Snorfkin began to speak, an even greater thunderous BANG cracked out, followed by the bright spark of lighting, briefly illuminating the tavern with a bright white light. It was so close the window cracked and a noticeable force could be felt by the group. The stool Sir Snorfkin was sitting on tipped over from the jolt.

“Everyone alright?” Bjorn yelled out from the bar. “That was a close one, but this tavern is built for it.” After the group’s recovered from the shock, faint shouting could be heard outside.

“Do you hear that? It sounds like someone is outside the tavern.” Kira looked around at the group, stood up and went to the window.

“I don’t hear anything, perhaps we’ve all just had one too many ales.” stated Ulfric matter-of-factly, letting out a high-pitched burp afterwards.

A great yell from outside pierced through the darkness of the storm which enveloped the tavern. “………………uuuuuuuUUUUUULLLLLFFFRIIIIIIIIC!!!!! I know you are in there, you mangy snorfling’s arse!”

The group, who had all now gathered around the window, slowly turned and looked at Ulfric, who was still sitting by the fire. Turning back to the window, the group saw a stocky, short, dark green figure appear in the rain.

” I am going to MAKE YOU PAY, UUULLLFFRIIIC!!” shouted the figure, who was clearly another goblin. “You and your little friends should prepare to be attacked!”

Sir Snorfkin looked at Ulfric, disappointed: “Seems like you have some explaining to do Ulfric.”

“I can explain, but first we need to make a plan. That’s, Gromprich. He’s not the most pleasant goblin, as you can imagine. He must’ve followed me here on my journey from Poku Bog…”

As the group remained in discussion, Bjorn left the bar and went to the window to see what all the commotion was about. At that moment, a rock crashed through the window, hitting Bjorn straight in the forehead, knocking him to the ground.

Bjorn, getting up with a bloodied head, peered out of the window, still confused as to what was going on. Outside of the tavern stood Gromprich. From the shadows behind him, more dark green figures slowly began to emerge…………….

Snorflings, it’s time to engage! React to this post with a comment telling us how the group should react and take on Gromprich and his goblin horde!

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