DM: Entering the Stockade

The pathetic lock on the door proves not even the most rudimentary challenge to the growing skill of Gryffin. Two tumblers, probably salvaged from some ship-wreck or the junk thrown into the rubbish tip by the men of Sandpoint. It clicked once, twice, easily. The door eased open.

The young rogue put his ear up against the slivered gap, listening. There was nothing to hear. He pushed the door a few inches, feeling the tension in those who waited behind him. It swung open, revealing an entrance hall some 25 feet long, and twenty feet wide. A door on the left, one at the end on the left, a double door at the centre of the end wall, and a small passage leading off to the right.

The floor of this room is hard packed soul, as if the builders either ran out of lumber after buildings the walls and roof, or as if they simply never thought about building a floor. A number of poorly preserved horse and dog heads are mounted along the eastern wall, while along the southern wall hangs a pair of large batlike wings tacked to the wall with daggers.

The room smells .. not great. I guess that this is what the inside of a goblin house smells like. A mix of pickle and filth.

The room is empty.

* * *

Lloyd moves forward bravely, entering the heart of the enemy's territory. Somewhere within here that demon woman Nualia is hiding, and with her no doubt are scores of goblins.

Other than the aforementioned trophies, this large entrance hall is empty. There are muffled noises of distant activity within the structure, but heard to pin-point exactly where they are coming from. No goblins are present here, but it is clear that it will not be long before you stumble upon some.

The question now is: where do you want to go next? Gogmurt’s directions points towards the double doors which supposed to lead down the lower levels.