Aregano nods an understanding, his neck rolls squishing and giggling to make room for his chins.

"About where is the most concentrated group of goblins from the entrance to the cave...and how far in? I'm thinking I might be able to roast the majority of them with a blindly cast spell, and have the rest run out here where we can deal with them more...efficiently. From what you saw, could that work?"

All this talk, Tovar mutters. Let's get in there and be done with it. He swings his sword through the air.

"You're free to try, but do you honestly think a blaze of fire is going to do much damage to their ranks when there is a blinding blizzard surrounding them?" asks Libi.

~SE++

Aregano grins "You'll never know if something is going to be a tasty treat unless you try it. How many feet inside the mouth of the cave? And approximately where relative to the mouth of the cave?"

Nolan escalates the tower where Libi killed the goblin and takes the crossbow and bolts there. Then he descends the stairs and stays right at the front of cave entrance.

"Avandra, share your luck with us. We will need it." He says to himself holding his holy symbol. Then he asks his leader. "What you decided to do, mighty leader?" He asks Lucian with mockery in his tone.

The party discusses potential tactics are the cave continues belching out a formidable snowstorm. But as the arguments bleeds into several minutes of discourse, the snow begins to let up. There's a screeching sound, something between a wagon wheel in need of oiling and a dying animal, and you hear the clamor of several goblins arguing. In another minute, the snow stops completely, though the cave entrance boasts two feet of the stuff, making the terrain difficult to navigate.

Tovar lifts up his sword. "How quickly do you think I can clear this snow out?" he says. "Once I start swinging, I'm not looking to stop!".

"That settles it. No more waiting." Nolan says and enters the cave.

Tovar grins. I like the way you think, he says to Nolan as he trudges through the snow into the entrance of the cave, greatsword in both hands.

The cavern tunnel goes on for a hundred feet, its walls craggy and unfinished, its ceiling ten feet overhead and spiked with stalactites and icicles. The snow comes up to your knees, and reduces your speed to a crawl. It seems as though every step forward the temperature drops a few degrees. Eventually, you come to a large chamber, and in it you see a glass orb the size of a small cottage, its walls frosted with ice, the obscured shape of a blue dragon within it, unmoving on the floor inside the orb. The orb is girdled with metallic bands, and there is a swirling glow of blue magic around it. Several goblins surround the orb, wielding spears and, it looks like, jabbing the dragon with them, cursing in gobbledygook. You don't see any ice warriors, though you make out what appears to be a smaller chamber to the right, maybe twenty-five feet from the where you are. Sunlight trickles in from overhead. When you come near the chamber's entrance, the goblins curse. Two of them retreat, dropping their spears to draw crossbows, while the remaining four brace themselves for battle. One of them shouts something, and you hear a garbled reply that sounds similar to the ice warrior you dispatched outside... only instead of bellowing in pain, this voice seems coldly furious.

As the heroes enter the cavern, poor Flint cowering against the far wall, well out of Tovar's reach, one of the goblin sharpshooters fires a crossbow at the shiniest target--Nolan! It connects, even from across the cavern, sending the young cleric staggering.

The spear-wielding goblins gibber and chant in blood lusting ecstasy, their roars of triumph interrupted with broken common speech: "Go 'way!" "Die!" "We kill you!" "No take our snow globe!"

Lucian ducks aside as the first goblin bolt flies across the chamber. Regaining his composure he looks over his opponents forces - his eyes coming to rest on the prone form of the dragon. "Hmm. It would appear the goblins have done our job for us..." He lets out a quiet chuckle before clearing his throat, humming a few practice notes and turning to face the remaining goblins.

The second goblin sharpshooter espies another large target... the resident, token barbarian becomes--TWANG!--the resident, token barbarian with a brand new, quarrel-inspired hole. The goblins cheer, shaking their spears at the intruding heroes. The goblins seem quite content not to advance and let the sharpshooters pick off the heroes, bolt by bolt.

Inside the orb, the dragon stirs. It lets out a shriek of pain, anger, and frustration, and for a moment a blue light swirls around the orb, before vanishing.

Flint burrows through the snow, managing a meager ten feet of progress.

Tovar lets out a scream Who knew blueberries had thorns, as he plows through the snow towards the goblin.

The goblins shake their spears at the approaching barbarian, but do not move.

Aregano fishes his purple orb out of his satchel, and concentrates on a spot in the midst of the goblins on the left side of the globe.

A green light surges from Aregano's orb, hitting the goblin sharpshooter on the western side of the cave, the dragon, and the two spear-wielding goblins. Their movements become sluggish, and each blinks slowly, as if on the precipice of sleep.

After Aregano's spell, the eastern-most goblin minion shouts something to the cavern annex, and advances toward Tovar, brandishing his spear. His companion follows... and then from the annex you see an Ice Warrior, gliding easily through the snowy terrain. He crosses the cavern in seconds, brandishing his maul and ready to combat the half-orc barbarian.

The goblin sharpshooter under Aregano's spell manages to fire off a near-perfect shot at Nolan, the bolt embedding itself in the cleric's shoulder. Then the spell's effect strengthens, and the sharpshooter passes out, so deep in slumber it resembles death.

Clear as it is that the goblins have no intention of moving Lucian strides forward to face them. With a quick chant of arcane words the wounds on Tovar close and the half-orc is compelled to push forward. Wasting nary a breath Lucian invokes more words of power attempting to cloud the vicious warriors mind and lure him into a fatal mistake.