Cloudy with a Chance of Daggers: The Uncertain Skies of Balders Gate

In a tale that would surely be embroidered into tapestries, sung by bards, and exaggerated by drunken uncles, our quartet of adventurers vanquished the nefarious goblin leader with the kind of finesse often reserved for artists and conmen. Dave, the astute mage, released a perfectly-aimed cloud of daggers that rained poetic justice upon the goblin's domed cranium. It was, by all accounts, a flawless victory. As easy as solving a two-piece puzzle. A masterstroke of tactical brilliance that one might think had been the plan all along. 

But let's pull back the curtain, shall we? For our first attempt was less "masterpiece" and more "mishap."

 

Ah, the curious case of four intrepid adventurers, with all their spells, swords, and spiffy armor, finding themselves in the less-than-enviable position of invading an underground goblin fortress. A place so dark and damp that even the cockroaches had formed a union to protest the working conditions. The mission was as clear: take down the third goblin leader and halt the continuous harassment by the goblin collective on, well, anyone who wasn't a goblin.

Myles (the elf) was assigned the task of sneaking into the throne room, which is a grandiose term for what was essentially a dank cavern with a chair. The plan involved climbing into the rafters. It's at this juncture we must discuss the nature of "plans," which have a notorious reputation for unraveling just when you least want them to.

Enter Craig. Ah, Craig, whose stealth capabilities are comparable to a bullhorn in a library. His entrance into the scene was akin to announcing one's presence with fireworks and interpretive dance. Understandably, the goblins took notice. 

Now, when a goblin notices you, it doesn't jot your name down in a diary for future reference. No, it goes straight for the jugular, or any available soft tissue. Our Goblin Leader, not a fan of uninvited guests, immediately swung into action with his goblin minions, which is a poetic way of saying he skewered Dave, Craig, and Zaph in quick succession. 

In the adrenaline-fueled chaos, Dave's focus momentarily faltered, and his magic missiles, notoriously accurate and indifferent to friendly fire, found their mark in Zaph instead of the intended goblin henchman—a mistake that, while not fatal, was spectacularly unhelpful in the grand scheme of their skirmish.

In a final clash, an opera of clashing steel, which is unusual for the elf, Myles too joined his comrades in their newfound ethereal journey. 

And so, our adventurers wiped. Not the cleansing, victorious wipe one would use after a meal, but the sort of wipe that signifies a do-over. Our brave band had to reload, to roll the dice of fate again. It was their first wipe, an initiation of sorts into the grand tapestry of heroic failures that all true adventurers must weave.

Time to try again. Because in the end, how hard can it be?

Craig's down

Zaph's down

You can't control the dead (but you can speak to them)

Here's Zaph, later saying "Gordan's alive".