Berserker
Imlari was surprised when his vision started to sharpen; he had never felt his battle fury coming on this early in an encounter. The goblin he was trading sword strokes with also noticed something happening, baring his teeth and snarling. Imlari could not help himself and out of his barbarian lungs came the heredity battle cry of the berserker. He felt a sudden surge of energy in his arm as he hacked down against the overmatched goblin. By brute force, Imlari’s sword broke through the goblin’s defense, slashing his face, dropping the small humanoid.
Quickly Imlari reversed his sword and his direction, spinning towards the cluster of goblins. He saw two other goblins dive behind an overturned barrel, spears in their hands. Imlari could feel more of the Battle God’s lift and followed. In three strides, he caught the goblins, felling one with a wild overhead swing of his longsword and the other with an equally wild return blow, where the barbarian drove the pommel of his sword into the remaining goblin’s face. The sounds of battle could be heard throughout the cave, and Imlari once again added to them with his battle cry.
Jumping over the barrel, Imlari found himself facing six to eight dagger and club wielding goblins. He ran towards the middle of the goblin line, hoping to split them into two groups. In moments, Imlari hacked down two goblins, leaving one armless. Another goblin managed to cut the barbarian’s calf, right below where the padded leather armor ended, but Imlari could feel nothing. Berserker fury had completely possessed him; all he could think of now was battle, victory, and death. Four more goblins died in the space of twenty heartbeats; the barbarian’s reflexes felt incredibly sharp, and his sword felt like a dagger instead of the heavy piece of metal forged deep in the Corusk Mountains. The two remaining goblins turned to flee, and Imlari brutally hacked them down.
Behind him, Imlari could hear the sounds of the cleric praying, the cries of pain, the clash of shields. Realizing that he no longer faced any enemies, he ran towards the sound. In front of him were ten to twelve goblins; about half of these goblins were already engaged in action with Rodericke and Dorengar, who already had out his magic sword, The Gobliminator. The barbarian ran at the other six, swinging his sword wildly overhead. He ran over the first goblin and collided with two others. One of the goblins drove his dagger into Imlari’s ribs and was rewarded with a slashed throat. The other goblin drove his pockmarked dagger at Imlari’s eyes, hoping to blind the crazed Snow Barbarian. Imlari bit down on the goblin’s arm and felt his teeth go into the flesh. The goblin yelped in pain, dropping the knife. Imlari drove his fist into the goblin’s mouth, sending teeth flying.
The remaining three goblins charged, hoping to catch the adventurer off balance. Imlari lashed the longsword out and cut the first goblin’s stomach. Following the momentum of his sword, he twirled and struck again. This time the sword smashed through a wooded shield and a goblinoid ribcage. The final goblin stabbed the barbarian a handspan above the knee. Imlari drove his wounded knee into the goblin’s chest and then ended his life with a downward thrust of his sword.
The barbarian sprung off the goblin, whirling his sword at the oncoming opponents. The first blocked his swing, knocking Imlari to the side. The second attacker moved in, swinging downward, the blade of his sword strangely flat. Imlari felt his vision dim and then blackness.
Rodericke and Dorengar looked down at the now unconscious figure of Imlari. The paladin considered himself lucky that his strike with the flat of the blade had worked so well. Neither of them had looked forward to a continued fight with the mad barbarian. The dwarf kicked the prone figure, growling, “That’s the problem with snow humans: friend or foe, no one knows.”
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After recovering, you lead the party forward down the hall.
After recovering, you lead the party through the small opening in the wall.