¶ 📖 Session Notes
¶ Shadows and Secrets in the Goblin Court
The Soots—Snax, Otto, and Nitro—found themselves making their way into the chaotic and murky domain of King Zusgut's Court, a goblin enclave nestled within the Puddles district of Absalom. Their goal was simple but uncertain: meet with Large Marge, a mysterious contact who held vital information.
Before venturing into the depths of the goblin stronghold, Otto detached his own arm and stored it in his backpack—an unsettling but seemingly strategic decision. With their peculiar preparations complete, they moved forward into the ramshackle, waterlogged tunnels and makeshift structures that formed Zusgut’s domain. The stench of damp earth, stagnant water, and goblin cooking filled the air as they stepped into the dimly lit labyrinth.
¶ The Goblin’s Riddle Gate
At the entrance, two goblin guards barred their path, grinning with mischievous delight. They were not mercenaries demanding coin but instead gatekeepers of riddles—a peculiar test to determine who was “worthy” of entry. The adventurers attempted to pay their way through, but the goblins refused, considering bribery “wicked.” Instead, they had to prove themselves through wordplay, and dope vibes.
The Goblin Nibble asked:
¶ 1. "What has an eye but cannot see?"
- The Soots: "Storm," "Hurricane"
- Nibbles: "A needle, I guess a hurricane is fine"
¶ 2. "What is lighter than a feather, yet the strongest person can't hold it for five minutes?"
- The Soots: "Their breath"
- Nibbles: "Correct!"
¶ 3. "What can travel around the world while staying in a corner?"
- The Soots: "A book?" "A story?" "A globe?"
- Nibbles: "I'll accept globe on a technicality, since goblins love technicalities."
¶ A Court of Chaos
Inside, the court was a lively, theatrical spectacle. Goblins sat in rough bleachers, watching an impromptu play, complete with an overacting goblin knight, a haphazardly costumed sorcerer, and a ragtag goblin band providing chaotic musical accompaniment. At the heart of the spectacle sat King Zusgut, perched atop a throne of wooden crates.
The group took a moment to mingle among the goblins. Snax, wanting to better fit in, sought out a **goblin dog slicer and arranged for a rune to be transferred to it. Along the way, he encountered Gobble Stonefoot, a goblin with a love for brinewater pickles—a questionable local delicacy. To blend in, Snax sampled one, immediately regretting it. After a bit of small talk with Gobble, and Snax mentioning that he was the leader of the tribe, Diplomacy Fail, he was directed to talk to Zusgut.
Snax began exchanging pleasantries before Zusgut started casually steering the conversation toward the undead threat in Lastwall. Zuscut, surprisingly forthcoming, confirmed the worst: undead forces had ravaged Lastwall. His own tribe, the Crooked Toe goblins, had once lived there but barely escaped the onslaught of a growing zombie horde, seemingly controlled by a lich.
¶ A Masterpiece of a Disguise
During their wait for Large Marge, Nitro made an unorthodox yet bold decision—she halted the entire goblin play to draw a portrait of their contact. Otto provided a forensic-level description, and Nitro, in an almost supernatural feat of artistry, created a photorealistic drawing of Large Marge. The goblin crowd erupted in applause, delighted by the impromptu performance. Fireworks exploded from an enthusiastic goblin wizard in the corner, adding to the fanfare.
After some time, a masked woman matching Nitro’s drawing entered the court, accompanied by an equally masked companion. Otto recognized her immediately—Large Marge had arrived.
¶ A Terse Reunion
Marge’s demeanor was less than warm. Her tone was curt, as if she had been waiting for Otto longer than expected. There was an unspoken tension between them, perhaps stemming from old business, and it became clear that she wasn’t thrilled about the chosen meeting location.
She greeted Otto with a measured nod, eyes scanning his companions before speaking. "I see you've been busy," she remarked, her voice carrying an edge of impatience. "I assume you have something worthwhile for me?"
Otto, sensing the weight of the meeting, quickly suggested they find a more private area to discuss matters away from goblin eavesdroppers. Marge agreed, leading the group toward a dimly lit alcove near the back of the court.
Once there, she folded her arms and got straight to business. "You were supposed to deliver answers, Otto. Instead, I've been waiting. Do you have news of my husband?"
Otto laid out what they had uncovered—
“Thomas is dead,” Otto said.
Marge didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned in, voice cold.
“Prove it.”
That was the problem. Otto had no body, no gravestone—just the word of Quintus, who confirmed Thomas’ death but refused to explain how.
“Murdered,” Otto added.
Otto exhaled through his nose, trying to keep his composure. He had anticipated her reaction, but it didn’t make it any easier to be on the receiving end of her fury.
“Quintus confirmed it. He wouldn’t say how, but he knows.”
Marge’s lip curled at the name.
“Quintus is a snake. You’re a detective. Find me something real.”
Marge’s expression darkened. Thomas had been a customs officer at the Absalom docks, overseeing shipments and trade. If someone killed him, it wasn’t random—it was business.
“You don’t want closure,” Otto noted. “You want revenge.”
Marge didn’t deny it.
“Call it what you want. But I need real proof—a body, a record, a confession. Find it, and I’ll pay you more.”
Otto exhaled, knowing this was bigger than a missing person case. If he didn’t find the truth soon, Marge would take matters into her own hands.
And when Large Marge started looking for revenge, people died.
¶ A Lead to the Docks and a Catastrophic Explosion
With new information in hand, the group made their way to the Docks District of Absalom, a sprawling area of commerce and trade. As they arrived, they were met with an unexpected scene—a union strike. Longshoremen marched with signs reading “Longshore Local on Strike,” chanting in protest against poor wages and working conditions. Some of the workers eagerly invited the party to join, Snax and Otto each tossed a gold coin into their strike fund.
While moving through the docks, the group gathered intel from striking workers and dock officials. They learned that Tarnak Dexarian, a known enforcer, often sent ogres to violently suppress the striking workers, making tensions in the area even worse. Furthermore, Otto discovered that two chief customs officers were in charge of the docks' operations, suggesting that nepotism and corruption played a significant role in how cargo moved in and out of Absalom.
During their inquiries, the soots came across an individual who hinted at cargo crates being secretly rerouted. This raised further suspicions—could Marge’s missing husband have been involved in something bigger than smuggling?
Before they could act flames and debris filled the air as chaos erupted, throwing workers and bystanders alike into disarray. The force of the blast sent the party reeling, yet they managed to escape major injury, suffering only minor burns. However, a large portion of the striking crowd vanished in the inferno, consumed by smoke and fire.
Now, amid the smoldering wreckage, the party faced an urgent question—who was behind the attack, and what had they been trying to silence?