The party finds itself in a dark room with a spiraling staircase that ascends upwards. The room apparently has been used as a makeshift living quarters for the goblins and it reeks of their stench. The ground is littered with bedrolls, sacks and all sorts of primative tools used by the goblins. A search of the room uncovered a sack of gold coins, a healing potion, and enchanted boots that are graced with the image of a stalking panther.
Every now and then you can hear the shuffling of boots come nearer up above as the goblins approach the stairs to likely scout what’s in the room below. But the stairs never reverberate with the heavy sound of decending boots and eye contact is never made between the two parties. Then just as suddenly as you hear them, the bootsteps scurry away and faint orders are barked out in thier native tongue.
It’s been a long day… many hours since Geoffery awoke them with news of a page requesting their presence. What seems like weeks ago was just that morning. Everyone is seeking rest (except for Sertanian, the Castellan of the Great Hall of Valor, who wants to press on!). Discussions about where to rest have taken place – in the current room, in a room with fewer entrances, outside the catacomb entrance – along with tactics of how to defend and keep watch at each. Ultimately, the decision was made to retreat to outside the catacombs, near the entrance.
So the party back-tracked through the empty chambers, stepping over the carnage of dead bodies as they went. Through the webbed room, the room with the disturbed alcoves, the chamber with the crackling blue image of the sinister castle, through the first goblin living quarters, past the entry foyer with the moving braziers and finally up the stairs to exit the catacombs. There were no signs of anything out of the ordinary during their retreat, no tell-tale clues that someone had visited those rooms after they did. And the pack mule was tied up right where they left it.
The pair of sunrods used within the darkness of the catacombs were beginning to fade, but the party was able to forage enough food and wood to fuel a campfire for the night. A good thing too, for the night air in these foothills gets very cold and the warmth of a fire and a full stomach would be welcomed.
The night passes without incident and everyone is awoken by the morning light rising over the Gaint’s Shield Mountains to the east. Sertanian is the first to awake and he greets each of the others as they rise with the same line: “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get back to the rescue!”