Tales from Goblin Town

Cragmaw Cavern, Sword Mountains
1491 DR

The fire crackled and cast a dim-light over the cavern. The adrenaline pumping through your veins from the recent skirmish with the goblins subsiding and your heart rate begins to fade from from it's thundering boom to a more relaxed cadence. Sildar crawls over to the small campfire, pain stricken across the man's face. Although his wounds have been healed to a degree by the magics of the Tabaxi and Dwalin, the mental trauma from his internment with the Goblins of Cragmaw have still left their mark upon the veteran soldier.

Sildar was an older man, in the later years of his life. He sported a short beard, one which appeared that the man kept groomed and cropped but now bushy and disheveled after his capture. He was still wearing his armor, the metal battered but still in decent repair. He wore a tattered blue tabbard over the armor, the sigil on it no longer discernible under the mud and grim which caked the soiled garment. Despite his condition and the fatigue that wracked the old soldier, there was still a glimmer of fight in his eyes. He studied his rescuers quickly with a cursory analysis which assessed their merit and their own individual combat prowess in a matter of moments.
"Who are you?" he grunted finally. His voice was rough and grating and he winced in pain as he tried to clear his throat. Meraki instinctively held out his water-skin which Sildar took and nodded in appreciation. He took a long draw from the water skin, his eyes closed in a quiet contemplation.
"We are here looking for you," mused Dwalin, the stoic dwarf casually toyed with a deck of Tarroka cards in his massive hands.
"For me?" Sildar asked quizzically.
"In a way," added in Dwalin with a shrug. "Gundren Rockseeker hired us to bring his provisions to him in Phandalin. We found your horses on the road - they seemed to be in better condition then you."
Sildar chuckled at the macabre humor and pointed to the rest of the group.
"Big group for a convoy," he said.
"Package deal," hissed Nipper. The small Tabaxi slinked over to a log the goblins have been intended for the fledgling fire and kicked it over. He plopped himself on it with uncommon grace and began to inspect his weapons. Yarrick moved up through the group and sat beside Sildar, pulling a small morsel of bread out of his rations and offering half of the paltry feast to the soldier. Sildar accepted it graciously and began to hungrily devour the food.
"What happened?" Yarrick asked after Sildar had finished eating,
"Goblins ambushed us on the road. Two forces, overlapping arcs of fire with a picket to cover our rear," Sildar said, the semantics of the tactics coming casually as he spoke.
"They knew you were coming," Meraki grumbled, his deep voice booming, his years of soldiery and tactical indoctrination from the Boros Legion quickly disseminating the conflict. Sildar grunted in agreement.
"Aye, not sure who tipped them off. They hit us hard, killed our mounts, and took Gundren and I back here. Gundren didn't stay long though. That festering damnation of a bugbear Klarg had him shipped off to the Black Spider."
"I have seen this bugbear. He is particularly...undesirable." said Aethulian quietly, pausing for a moment as he selected the right words. The Wood Elf had slipped quietly up behind the group and sat perched on a nearby rock, tugging on the bowstring passively.
"Undesirable...that's one way to put it." muttered Sildar.
"The Black Spider, a peculiar name. What sort of denizen of the dark is this?" Dwalin asked pensively. Sildar shrugged.
"No idea." he said. "I think he knows about the map to Wave Echo Cave though. That's why they took Gundren. Has to be...only reason that makes sense." Sildar said. He stared at the group who were all frowning in confusion at the term with the exception of Dwalin who nodded in understanding and then shared equal shock at the group's lack of knowledge.
"You've never heard of the legend of Wave Echo Cave and the Forge of Spells?" Dwalin asked.
"Sounds important," said Mazekk. The Half-orc swaggered forward and then kicked up a large boot and dragged it across the rock which Yarrick was sitting on. A strange grey gunk was coming off the bottom of the boot and being pressed the pungent paste into the rock. Yarrick winced and drew back in disgust.
"What is that?" he asked.
"Goblin cock," replied Mazekk as he continued his efforts. Yarrick groaned in disgust and rose quickly, putting distance between himself and the Half-Orc. Sildar muttered and oath and shuffled away.
"As I was saying, Wave Echo Cave is quite the local legend. I'd say one of the more famous one's in this region of the Sword Mountains." Dwalin began. He hefted himself onto a nearby stool and planted his legs, leaning his elbows on his knees.
"Nearly, 500 years ago, the dwarves and gnomes of the region made a pact. Later this would be known as the Phandelver's Pact but at the time it was merely a nameless pact. It allowed each race to share the riches within the great mines of Wave Echo Cave. Troves of precious metals, jewels, and treasures beyond imagining lined the cave in thick veins. All became bountifully rich from this agreement, including a nearby human settlement of Phandalin." he said wistfully. A glimmer of dwarven pride in his eyes as he mused over the vast wealth of the mine.
"Other grew envious of their wealth and in the year 951, the Orcs of Uruth Ukrpyt came from the north and laid waste to the region. The Orcs were led by mercenary wizards who were adamant in seizing the riches of Wave Echo Cave. The human spell slingers and auramancers of Phandalin fought alongside the gnomes and dwarves to defend the cave, slaying many of the rampaging orcs. However, the magical torrents waging in the battles outside destroyed much of Wave Echo Cave. So many were slain in the battle that the memory of the mines were lost and the entrance - forgotten." Dwalin said. There was no lack of presentation in his voice, the dwarf using his brusque and burly voice to enrapture his audience. Nipper smiled, the Bard either impressed or mildly bemused by the performance.
"Nice story dwarf," grunted Mazekk. "How's that affect us?"Sildar studied the Half-Orc closer seeing through the charade of blunt arrogance. There was a twinkle of intrigue in the soldier's eyes and an unbridled intelligence the Half-Orc was masking with an air of ignorance.
"It appears that Gundren, our employer in this endeavor, has discovered a map to the location of Wave Echo Cave." Dwalin added and then beamed with pride as Sildar nodded in acknowledgement.
"What's the other thing? The Spell Forge or Soul Forge?" Yarrick queried.
"Ah yes," clucked Dwalin. "The Forge of Spells. I perhaps and not the most attuned to tell you of this." Dwalin added thoughtfully and motioned to Meraki. The massive Loxodon bowed his head in respect to the dwarf and moved forward to a more prominent position in the group, a comical notion given his relative size to the others and the end result was the Loxodon imposing his own height even more than he already did.
"I have heard of this in my tutelage with the Legion Remnant. The Forge of Spells is a tool which my my meager application of magicks and craft pail in comparison. As the legends say, the gnomes of the Phandelver pact had devised a method to harness the wild essence of the magics into a device of some kind within the mines. This Forge could be used to craft weapons and tools of unimaginable power, imbued with the very magics of the cave they were created in." Meraki explained. The cave fell silent with the muted crackling of the dim fire in the background
"Think of the value-" muttered Nipper in awe. Sildar nodded.
"Aye, the cat's got it right. Thousands of gold pieces for even a widow's knife with a touch of magic in it." Nipper nods eagerly.
"We must find the map then," he said and then smiled. "And Gundren as well...can't forget him." Sildar nods and heaves himself to his feet. Yarrick offers a hand of assistance but the proud soldier dismisses it and rights himself.
"From what I heard they took Gundren to the leader of the Cragmaws, some blighted devil called the Black Spider. If I were to wager a gold piece on it, I'd say they took him to Cragmaw Castle. Heard the ugly one there...ummm...Yubgub or whatever talkin' bout it," he chuffed.
"Where is Cragmaw Castle?" Aethulian said, startling everyone again with his feline like grace. He had somehow moved unnoticed across the cave and was now behind the group picking through the detritus and refuse on a small table.
"Don't know," replied Sildar. "Forest 'ere is vast. Lot of place to hide." he said. "Best bet is to head to Phandalin. I've got a contact there. A wizard named Iarno. He traveled to the town two month's back to establish an order of the Lord's Alliance. Haven't heard from him since."
"Lord's Alliance?" Dwalin askd quizzically.
"Small club I'm part of," Sildar said with a wink. He strode over to the remains that was Yeemick's small throne and rummaged through a bag behind it. He produced a longsword and small dagger, buckling both weapons to his belt. He walked towards the exit to the small cave.
"Wait," Yarrick called out. "Where are you going?"
"Got a bugbear to kill,"Sildar said and hurried off into dark abyss of Cragmaw Cavern.