Up and Down

"Up!" Miss Adventure yelled,"Up! I want up!"

Those above yanked on the rope, hauling her up. The goblin below hissed, and then disappeared. Moments later, yelling and screeching could be heard in the depths.

Miss Adventure appeared from the well, huffing, "Goblins...goblins down there."

"Yes, we heard," Gildrid said frowning.

As the party discussed what to do, smoke started slowly coming from the hole. The goblins were building a fire in the well, now turned chimney.

"There's got to be another entrance," Nemon said. "This can't be the only way in". He peered over the side of the cliff and shivered.

"We don't have time for this," Gruffydd spoke as he began tying a new rope around his waist. It'll be dark soon, and this smoke will act as signal to ever creepy-crawly within sight of this place."

Laramine tied a rope around hid waist also. "Two at a time I think".

Squashed together in the tight space, and coughing and gagging on smoke, the dwarf and the man dropped quickly down the well. They had to untie themselves and dropped the last few yards into the fire itself, which was still small at this point.

Standing in front of them, clutching a bundle of twigs was a goblin in armor that looked too big for him. Even though the helmet was of obvious orc design and obscured his face, the look of shock was unmistakable. He dropped the wood and ran back into the darkness. Laramine and Gruffydd stalked into the room behind him as two other party members above began their own journey down.

The room was large and square with a high ceiling. The whole place was of mortared stone. Forming up in the middle of the room in almost military fashion were three goblins.

A few moments passed as Laramine and Gruffydd looked at each other. Neither had seen any kind or discipline in goblins before. Behind the "soldiers", a slightly larger, fatter goblin was barking orders. The three then lowered their weapons and charged.

Gruffydd and Laramine charged themselves. Before contact was made the lead goblin fell with arrow through the visor. Gildrid had made it down. After dropping the goblin, he began stomping out the fire.

Gruffydd smashed a goblin flat with his hammer. Laramine missed with his magic mace, and the green skin he faced almost connected with the spear he wielded. It spun around to face the sea-raider, unaware Nemon was behind him. "Clang!" The goblin fell under the mercenary's blade.

Attention turned to the fat one. He was conversing with the wood-gathering goblin. The little one ran off down a corridor shouting at the top of his lungs. The fat one stood his ground.

His armor was in better shape than the rest. It looked like it was made for him and not scavenged. His skin was orange, not the greenish yellow of a goblin. He hefted a meaty sword and waited for the party to come to him.

Not a goblin. A Hobgoblin.