SKT: Session 2: Nightstone’s occupation

General Summary

Chapter the Second: Battle for Nightstone’s Heart

With goblins scattering through the winding streets of Nightstone, the courageous Juniper and the towering Uvar gave chase, their weapons at the ready, yet cursed by fate to miss their mark as goblins leapt, rolled, and jeered just beyond reach. But lo, the fates aligned as the sound of hurried footsteps signaled the arrival of their allies—Madra, Thyme, and Azure, their eyes sharp and weapons gleaming.   Yet before they could unleash their combined fury, a strange rumbling emerged from the Lionshield Trading Post, its sturdy doors trembling as if in fear. Ever curious, Juniper approached, her fingers brushing the door—when suddenly a Goblin burst forth, teeth bared and weapon raised. The blow landed heavily upon her, but before the creature could strike again, Azure’s magic crackled through the air, a torrent of acid splashing across the goblin’s flesh. Even with half its form seared, the goblin hissed and staggered, refusing to fall. In a heartbeat, Madra lunged, his pike gleaming as it pierced the creature’s chest, and the goblin collapsed, its foul spirit banished from Nightstone.   With a war cry, the party turned their attention to the remaining goblins, who one by one fell under their relentless assault. The goblin Flik, fleet of foot, sought escape toward the temple. But Madra, his instincts sharp as a hunter's, pursued with grim resolve. With a single, powerful stroke, he dispatched the creature, silencing Flik’s cries under the evening sky.   Their foes vanquished for the moment, they returned to the shattered bridge, where two village guards awaited, hesitant to cross the broken span. With Azure’s help, a makeshift rope bridge was fashioned, allowing the guards to join them on the other side. When asked if the village had been secured, Azure assured them—though the windmill, he admitted, had yet to be checked.   And so, Madra and Azure turned toward the creaking windmill. Following faint goblin tracks, they entered, prepared to face whatever mischief lay within. From the rafters, two goblins fired arrows down upon them, but the stalwart Madra pressed forward, ascending the windmill’s turning gears. With a ferocity befitting his northern blood, he struck them down, one after another, painting the rafters with the final strokes of the goblins’ tale.   Impressed by their valor, the guards requested aid in searching the village’s remaining buildings. In the stable, Uvar, Juniper, and Thyme found the remnants of battle—a boulder crashed through the roof, sparing a group of startled horses who eyed the party warily from their stalls. But danger still lurked, as a hidden goblin fired upon Thyme. Juniper’s magic flared, and Uvar’s blessings rang out, though fate would have Thyme scale the ladder and deliver the final, merciless blow to the pleading goblin.   Through door after door, they went, finding only ransacked homes and bodies lying beneath fallen stones, each step a testament to the tragedy that had struck Nightstone. In a guard tower, Uvar encountered a goblin transfixed by a silver locket. Startled, the creature surrendered, revealing the location of the villagers before he was taken into custody by the merciful Cleric. Juniper, meanwhile, stumbled upon a door marked with Infernal runes—a warning, she soon deciphered, of eternal torment awaiting those who entered unbidden.   As the last of the homes were cleared, the party made their way back to the town square, their minds heavy with the sorrows and secrets of the day. Yet their trials had not yet ended.   Azure, standing guard at the drawbridge alongside the captured goblin Gwerk and the two village guards, heard the thunder of hooves. From the shadows emerged seven figures—mercenaries led by a dark-skinned Half-Elf whose gaze fell upon the inn. “Kella Darkhope!” he called, and out from the shadows she emerged, the enigmatic Monk they had saved.   Kella, her voice carrying a sinister edge, revealed her allegiance to the Zhentarim, confessing her mission to claim Nightstone for the Black Network. Beside her stood the mercenary leader, Xolkin Alassandar, who introduced his band as the Seven Snakes. Kella proposed an alliance with the adventurers, though it came with a dark price: the guards who now stood beside them, witnesses to their claim, would need to be silenced.   But our heroes, bound by honor and unwilling to yield the village to such foul forces, refused. Uvar released the cat Rillix onto the roof, a silent signal, as the adventurers steeled themselves for a final stand. As Kella and Xolkin took their places in the square, the air grew tense—a battle lay before them, a battle for the heart of Nightstone.