It's been a rough month for Sandpoint.

After a day full of fun, food, and games at the Swallowtail Festival in honor of Desna, as the consecration of the new Cathedral was to take place, a large pack of goblins raided the small town. The town guard and a fair amount of capable travellers were able to repel goblins, but not before a number of lives were lost. In the days since, Sandpoints troubles have only continued.

After discovering the raid had been a cover for the unexplained theft of the remains of the town's previous religious leader, Father Ezakien Tobyn, the town was hounded by further troubles: stray goblins remaining from the raid, news of goblin tribes banding together to form an army, and the abduction of the popular local bartender Ameiko Kaijitsu. After tracking Ameiko's abductor, her own half-brother Tsuto Kaijitsu, to the town's glassworks, a plot involving the raising of a goblin army to burn Sandpoint to the ground as an offering to the monster goddess Lamashtu was revealed. Nualia Tobyn, Father Tobyn's adopted aasimar daughter long thought to have died in the fire with the priest, seeks to raze Sandpoint to the ground to appease her goddess and transform into a full-fledged demon--a process only partially completed by the offering of her father's remains.

Now, a party of adventurers have come together to strike at Nualia and the Thistletop tribe of goblins at the center of the forming army in hopes of breaking up the goblin threat. Thistletop, a prized lair among the goblins, is known to be a strange island off the shore of the Nettlewoods and connected to the mainland by a rope bridge six miles up the coast from Sandpoint.

After an hour and a half of travelling by the road between Shank's Wood and Tickwood, the party must decide: Do they take the path along the coast and make the dangerous climb up the cliffs near Thistletop, or do they try to find their way through the thick stinging nettles and goblinberry bushes of the Nettlewoods?

21:13, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 25 using 1d20+9.  Know Local Sly.
Everyone was aware of these possibilities at the start of the day when they prepared spells and gear. Finalize those selections and place them in OOC or your Private Thread.

Bane sits high astride his warhorse, Hunter. The pair of them both heavily armored and ready to bring battle to the goblins. He considers their options. "I don't fancy digging through the Nettlewood much more than I think I would like the Tick Wood. I say we go up the cliffs. If anyone isn't a passable climber we can always lower a rope down to you to make it a bit easier."

Despite the obvious problems with the plan Bane doesn't seem bothered. Hunter whinnies and paws the ground with his hoof.

Oslynne fastidiously checks her gear, running through the list in her mind and marking off each expected item.  "The cliffs will be a challenge - word is, they tend to be slick from the ocean spray, and it's about eighty feet of climbing." She ties her pack shut, slips it over her shoulders as she stands, threads belts through buckles and pulls everything tight.  As if to mark it done, she snaps a finger.  "But the Nettlewood is no better.  It's slow work at the best of times, and even experienced woodsman have never returned from it.  I'm inclined to agree with Bane - the cliffs might be the better option."

Elenia considered the bevy of bad options. She didn't like the idea of forcing her way through Needlewoods but marching down the coast didn't seem like a better option due to the potential goblin army forming.

"Hmmm, I don't think that traveling the Needlewoods or, ehem the Nettlewoods would be particularly fun or enjoyable but marching up the coast, mmm-I just don't know about that option. Is there a way that we could perhaps evade ourselves being spotted?

"Not much of a climber. Not interested in itchy pokies either... Maybe I'll just hang out here and keep lookout. You lot can shout if there's trouble." Aldern drawled. He shrugged at the questioning looks of his companions. At mention of the rope he sighed, seemingly resigned to some unsavory chore.

"Very well. If that's where the coach carries me, I'll not strangle the Coachman..." His voice cracked a little and he coughed and made appearance of tending to his scant gear.

Bane nods at the concerns "I expect they won't be as attentive to the coast because they have a cliff guarding that approach. They are goblins, not a disciplined military so I expect if we aren't blowing horns and waving banners we have a decent chance of not being seen." he surreptitiously slides his warhorn into his saddle bags and begins carefully folding his banner.

OOC: I didn't have a warhorn before but I sort of want one now. It falls in free gear, right?

Vorin's gaze swept across the road ahead of them as his companions voices their options. He turned back and his eyes rested on Bane with a raised eyebrow. "Others I understand but shying away from some woods? Really?" He sounded a bit dismissive of the danger posed by some thorns and bushes. "I guess I'm outvoted, but I also don't think Hunter can use a rope if we are going by the cliffs."
_{Edit: Changed Color}
This message was last edited by the player at 17:14, Fri 26 Apr.

"He's a good horse of fine highland stock, used to rough terrain. If we have the option to take a back way rather than a foot bridge that's what I'm for. They might not have a cliff guarded well. But they for sure have sentries watching the only bridge to their territory." A hint of a smile crosses Bane's otherwise rock-stern expression.

Opting for the quicker, less prickly route, the party makes their way north, bypassing the old Paupers' Graves and heading to the coast. The journey east isn't easy; the sandy beaches are tiring to march through and riddled by the craggy coastal cliffs of many of Varisia's shores which often force detours from the water and lead to dead ends. Finally, after passing through a narrow path cut between two cliff faces, Oslynne announces their arrival at the Thistletop camp. Ahead of the party, to the east, a break at the base of the cliffs leads into dark caves with rough waters as the sea churns through them. To the north, the cliff face of the goblin camp bulges out before turning east and out of sight--from their position the party can only see out to sea, but around that cliff, to the north, should be the Thistletop lair on its own island crag. Above the party, atop the tall, slick cliffs which surround them are the Nettlewoods--as thick and impenetrable as the locals say.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:32, Fri 26 Apr.

Oslynne cranes her neck up at the cliffs to the north, shielding her brow with one hand.  They'd have to be careful - no sense proceeding rashly.

[OOC: Is there enough space along the bottom of those cliffs to sidle northwest-wise, or is it a straight wall into the drink?]

Aldern shaded his eyes as he peered upwards. "No rope ladders that I can see. Rude. Maybe they don't know we're coming?" He couldn't be serious, but his tone of voice and facial expressions seemed to indicate surprise.

He proceeded to the water's edge, right where the distance between the beach and the cliff face was the narrowest. Placing his hands on his hips, he gazed to see if there might be any vegetation or outcroppings which might be strong enough to support his weight, at least enough to swing across to the other side.

OOC: Will look for something that looks whip-worthy (15') at the narrow point just north of where the party is currently.)

Appraising the cliff face, Aldern doesn't find anything jutting out to catch with his whip, but the gap between beach and cliff is narrow enough that he should be able to hop across and grab the cliff face without getting his shoes wet.