# EN Story telling



## megamania (Jun 23, 2003)

I thought it would be neat to try this.  I will start a story setting and of about a paragragh.  Then someone else trys it building on what I said.  Then another builds on that and so on.  Then in a day or two collect it and put into story hour format?

Just a thought.

I will begin with:

The morning sun crept over the forest pushing back the creatures of the night.  The four adventurers had another quiet night much to their happiness.  The dwarf whom was on the last watch duty begins breakfast for the others.

(give name/appearances of dwarf and comrades)


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## Darth Shoju (Jun 23, 2003)

*story*

Drakhar Lutgher set the worn metal frying pan over the fire. The remains of last night's fish supper began to smoke slightly in the blackened pan. Drakhar bent to add some beer from the party's keg to soften the meat, then straightened as he saw his family's battle helm sitting across the fire. He had worn it proudly in many battles, each dent and scratch a badge of honor. But last night, as he had returned to the campsite after gathering firewood, he had been horrified to see that the horns of his helm had been painted pink! _Pink!_ It could only have been that sneeky little elf. He was always one for the pranks, thinking he was so amusing. And his fellow party members had only laughed as Drakhar had sputtered in rage. Well, by Moradin's Glorious Beard, they would regret that night!

Setting the beer keg back with the other supplies, Drakhar reached into his pack and retrieved his flask of Dwarven Rotgut. _Let's see how much they laugh when they spend half the day clutching their bellys!_ thought the grizzled fighter as he poured the Dwarven alchohol into the pan, now cooling on rocks away from the fire...


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## ejja_1 (Jun 23, 2003)

The sing song voice of Celina Silvanis drifted to Drakher's ears, he winced as the elven bard appeared behind him and tussled his hair. "Your not still mad at me now are you Drakle? It was all in fun really. You know elderberry doesnt stain bone, so cheer up you sour puss."
Drakhar rounded on the elf." My heritage is not to be taken lightly elf! Many have died by my axe for lesser offenses."


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## alsih2o (Jun 23, 2003)

the loud voices woke rix from his slumber. he should have known better than to travel with non-human races. always so passionate, always bickering never setting themselves directly to the goal. well, at least the dwarf was good with an axe, and that damned skinny elf had proved useful at least once, but the gnome? what possible use could a party of heroes have with a gnome?

 if he ahd to slow their progress one more time to chat with a shrew or a vole he was going to make sure that blasted gnome became a burrowing mammal.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 23, 2003)

"By the light of Pelor, do you two have to start shouting at each other so early?" Finn Grovinger lay under an oak across the clearing from where the rest of the party had set up their camp. "Your bickering is enough to make my headache worse than it already is." He scratched at the 3 days worth of beard that he had accumulated since they had last slept under a roof. Where had he dropped his mace and armor the night before? This was looking like it was going to be another long day.

Drakhar turned to where the cleric had passed out the night before. ""Maybe if you didn't feel the need to get plastered after every battle and fall down in the dirt, you would be up early enough to start breakfast and let me sleep late for once."

(edit: spelling)


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## Larry Fitz (Jun 23, 2003)

Gnorvald continued to pretend to be asleep. He steeled himself for the moment when he seemed to wake up, knowing that he must play his part, must seem to be cheery and addled. If the others realized the true nature of the adventure too soon all the planning of the past three generations of Gnor's clan would be for naught. 

When questions about the glyphs they'd encountered in that abandoned temple came up last night, Celina had distracted everyone with song and merriment. Her timing was good, perhaps too good. Could she suspect? Or worse, could she possibly know? Gnor brushed that thought aside as he prepared himself to play the bumbling illusionist again. It was odd how they all seemed to play to type, the Elven bard, The Dwarven Warrior and the human "rogue" (less polite company might call him a thief). Gnor only hoped he chose the right three companions, and that with the help of the Lord of the Secrets in the Dark, that tey could come through this successfully.


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## ejja_1 (Jun 23, 2003)

Celina stuck his tounge out at Finn. " Maybe your head wouldnt hurt so much if you kept your hands to yourself!"
Celina pulled a lute from his back." Ill sing you all a song, that will make all the pain and fatigue disappear."
Celina strummed his lute, and hummed in tune.
" A nights reverie for you and me
  Ale and wine all around
  We danced and sang
  And lept and sprang
  Until we fell to the ground.

  Now we wake and our heads do ache
  And our stomachs protest and do growl
  And the smell of breakfast by yon dwarf
  Is nasty and yechy and foul.

  But fear not my friends this is not the end
  A smile on your lips will yet show
  We all shall feast on carrot and greens
  From my wonderfull garden were grown."

A frying pan narrowly missed Celina's head, and there was general moaning and cursing.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 23, 2003)

"Celina, knock that off before I make you disappear, and it WILL hurt. Give me a hand, will you? I think I dropped my breastplate and pack somewhere in the bushes here." 

Finn was one of a new group of Clerics that served Pelor but were held at a distance by the temples. Young, strong, and continually in trouble, he had been picked up off the streets and brought into the fold as part of the churchs "Everlasting Light" program. He had proved a good student until the headmaster had told him to never forget his place, that he would always be at the bottom where the street urchans belonged. After he served his 3 weeks in solitary prayer for knocking the headmaster flat on his back, he was assigned to the travelling misionary group, given some supplies, and sent out into the world told only to return after reaching 100 converts. A fat chance he had of doing that, he could hardly remember to keep his things together, much less find someone who would lsiten to him preach. He had spent the last of his coin on drink, and it certainly showed. His armor was dented, his mace badly in need of polishing, and his clothes needed mending. And now he was here in the wilderness, trying to earn some fame and fortune and find his own way in the world.


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## ejja_1 (Jun 23, 2003)

Celina looked at finn and smiled. " It's leaning up against the other side of the tree your resting against, and just for the record Finny I wouldnt go into the bushes with you for all the gold in Lord Nemras treasury."
Drakhar took this opportunity to punch Celina in the gut as hard as he could, celina made a "wuffmp" noise as all the air exploded from his chest and he fell to his knees.
Drakher leaned close to Celina and whispered in his ear. " Id hate to be the one to have to rescue some poor elf from danger, you should be more carefull not to get in my way. Understand?"
Celina noded and gasped for air.
Finn laughed out loud, and then winced becuase his head was throbbing. He was able to find his gear scattered around the tree he had passed out on, his breast plate was wet with condensation and felt slimey as he put it on.
Finns mouth felt like it was lined with fur, and he threw up on his backpack as he was trying to get it on his back.
Drakher shook his head in disgust. " Humans or elves wich is worst?"


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## Silver Moon (Jun 24, 2003)

Sniffing the air, Finn inquired "And what exactly is that I am smelling...has an odd smell to it?"   "Just an old family recipe" Drakhar replies.  "Well, as old as your family is I would expect that to be true of all your recipes" the man cheerfully answers.  

Drakhar grabs his spoon and apportions equal amounts into the bowls of his companions, stating "Eat up, better when it's hot."   

While still pretending to sleep, Gnorvald slinks his hand over towards his bowl and removes a sampling.  He tastes the food and winces.  "Good thing he's good with an axe, he can't cook worth a damn," he thought to himself.   

Celina carefully takes in the aroma of the dish, agreeing with his earlier assessment, and taking a small sample of it.  Whatever the dish was, Elvan cuisine it wasn't.   The bard contemplates commenting on the dish, but reconsiders, fearing another friendly punch from his Dwarven companion.    With great care Celina extracts a spice packet pouch, hoping to give the meal enough flavor to be able to eat at least some of it. 

Finn approaches eating to the dish with the same abandon that he generally applies to life itself.   Drakhar stifles a slight smirk as the man downs his fourth heaping spoonful.   The cleric sudden stops chewing and looks up, a strange look now crossing his face.  "Hit him sooner that I expected" the dwarf pondered.  

A wide grin then crosses Finn's face, and he exclaims "That's it!"   "What?" Drakhar snarls.   Finn answers "The flavoring.  Took me a bit of time to identify.  New Rockhome Dwarven Rotgut, aged…18 years I'd say.   This sample would be from a lot made for the Silversteel Tavern.  General Balkar's personal family blend I believe."


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## megamania (Jun 24, 2003)

Celina  turns to relieve herselve of future discomfort.  It is much too late.  Even as she packs up for the day she feels ill.  

Finn finishes his helping and licks off his utencils.  "Do you have more..the drink I mean?"

Drakhar merely grumbles and continues to finish his meal.

Gnorvald "awakens" and declines on food.  "I am fine" he says as his stomach growls loudly.  "We have a busy day today."


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 24, 2003)

(break in story)

_I hate to nitpick, but Finn is the human cleric, not the gnome... _

(story continue)


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## ejja_1 (Jun 24, 2003)

*Break in story* yes finn is the human, and is celina a girl or guy? Not that it matters, and it is humorous.*


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## Tom Cashel (Jun 24, 2003)

Abruptly the friendly chatter was shattered by a crack of thunder echoing down the side of the forested valley.

At the top of the rise, the companions turned to see a figure in billowing cloaks with features obscured by a harlequin mask.  There was some nagging familiarity about the figure that only one of the companions--Drakhar--could name.

Then a score or more of hunched, deformed figures crested the hill and gathered at their master's heels.  To call them "well-armed" would have been a grave understatement.


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## Darth Shoju (Jun 24, 2003)

*story*

"By Moradin's foaming mug, we are attacked!" bellows Drakhar. Scrambling over to his bedroll, he retrieves his waraxe _Kjalnir_. Hefting the mighty weapon in both hands, he turns to survey the creatures at the crest of the ridge. Deep within his breast, like the beating of The Great Smith's hammer at anvil, his battle rage is growing. He can feel it rising to consume him, the thundering in his ears dampening the sound of his companions around him. _Not yet,_ he thinks. _I've got to wait until we form up and are ready to engage the enemy. My rage will do more harm than good if released too early._ With the discipline of years of experience, he supresses the rage until it is only a faint rythm in his blood, like the distant sound of dwarven war drums. Assessing the situation, Drakhar looks about him to see the reactions of his companions...


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## ejja_1 (Jun 24, 2003)

Celine pops a mint leaf in his mouth to settle his stomach, and puls his bow off of his back. He knocks three arrows at once, and begins to sing just under his breath. He springs from his crouch and in a flash lands up in the trees, holding his fire until he is sure of the situation. The seconds crawl by as perspiration begins to form on his brow, Drakhars rot gut isn't helping the siuation.
His song is complete and the arrow heads glow a nasty looking crimson, the arcane energy seeming to smolder within the metal broadheads.
" Drakher we have more company on our flank, watch the tree line." Sure enough the shadowy forms of warriors stalking their prey could be seen through the canopy of low hanging branches, Drakher whirled and could see that they were slowly being surrounded.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 24, 2003)

Dropping his bowl to the ground at the sight of the masked figure and his minions, Finn felt his stomach turn. "No, no, no, no..." he muttered to himself, then darted across the clearing back to the tree where he had spent the night. He grabbed his mace from the ground where it lay, and pulled his helmet off the end of his pack where it had been stashed. Just as he got it on, he felt the urge to vomit up breakfast yet again, and quickly removed it once more. "No, no..." He retched and the dwarven breakfast was out of his stomach. 

Pressing his back to the tree, he cautiously peered around the side to see if there had been any movement from the figures atop the rise. None yet. He clutched his mace, and tried to think of the prayers he had been taught. Nothing came to him. Closing his eyes, he cursed and felt for the wineskin at his belt with his free hand. He upended it, filling his mouth with the sour wine that was left. Swallowing it with a shudder, he swore, and tried to clear his head. "Don't get sick again, don't get sick, you'll die if you do" he thought and once more tried to remember the wording of the prayers. 

"Pelor's light, watch over myself and those whom I have chosen to travel with. Guide us, and fill us with your strength and wisdom. Do not let us go blindly into the night, but let your light be our guide." The blessing worked, and he felt its essence spill out of the sun symbol he wore around his neck, on its way to his companions. 

Looking down, he spotted his shield sitting 3 yards away. "Damn, damn, damn." he swore again. He must have ran right over it to get to the tree. "Pelor guide this poor wretch you have chosen" he spat as he dove for the shield. He rolled, grabbed it, and came up in a crouch with it in front of him. He looked around the side, and saw that there were more figures in the shadows of the trees. "I swear, if I get out of here, I'll not touch another drop of wine." He knew it was a lie, but from the looks of things he didn't think he would be getting out of this one alive.


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## ejja_1 (Jun 24, 2003)

EDit-Double post.


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## ejja_1 (Jun 24, 2003)

The shadowy forms began to advance , closing in from all sides. The beastrial appearance of their foes was not lost on the party, cuasing all of them to a man to shiver for just a moment in anticipation of the clash. A roar went up all around them, it was a much like the sound of a lion as it launched it self at it's prey.
Drakhar joined them with a roar of his own and ran headlong for the nearest group of the enemy, foam and spittle began to fleck around his lips as he entered the madness of his battlerage.
Celina targeted a group of them as they came on and let loose with his barage of spell charged arrows, a mighty explosion rocked the land as the arrows impacted at the feet of the enemy. A smoking crater was all that was left of the feral creatures that came for them, Celina smiled with grim satisfaction and put away his bow. His lute seemed to spring into his hands of it's own violition, and he began to sing a fighting song.

" Hear me lads as the fight draws near
  With strength we shall prevail
  Let our enemy feel our blades
  As they clash with tooth and nail

  The blood will flow and bones will break
  And mighty missles fly to their end
  Together we stand mighty and brave
  Our enemies flesh we shall rend "

Celina watched as his companions seemed to glow briefly, letting him know his spell had worked. They would all have an easier time with combat now, hitting stronger and with more precision.


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## Silver Moon (Jun 25, 2003)

So long ago…that had been a quite day indeed.  The young Dwarven boys were encouraged by their parents to participate in a Clan's game of Grand Toss-rock.   Drakhar and his best friend, Brondo Strongsplint, had been partnered for the event.  They were able to vanquish all of their opponents, and named the Clan's champions.  His older brother Harthker had thrice held that honor, and even won the New Rockhome championship, but this was Drakhar's first athletic victory.   

The two boys had stepped forward, for the Clan Chief to award them with the Grand Toss-rock medals.   The Chief placed the medal around Drakhar's neck.   The medal itself was little more than a bronze plated rock attached to an iron chain, but on that particular day the boy was prouder to have it than any artifact on the planet.    Then the world came crashing down on them. 

Specifically, what came crashing down was the cliff side of Mount Karjjil, overlooking the Clan's village.  Tons of rock fell all about, as the dwarves of the clan all rushed for cover.   Most were able to reach the caves and avoid the immanent doom that approach, but for Drakhar and his friend there was no escape.  Boulders collided with the cobblestones of the walkways, and stone buildings collapsed under the weight of the stone ledges falling upon them.    Drakhar lost sight of Brondo as a cloud of dust rose up before him.   The pandemonium seemed to go on forever, and the just as abruptly, ceased.  

An eerie silence followed as the dust began to settle.  Drakhar saw his friend lying on the ground a short distance away, and rushed to him.   A series of jagged rocks lie near Brondo, and one appeared to be covered in blood.  He leaned beside his friend, seeing that his dearest companion breathed no more.   He then heard what sounded like an army approaching.   

Drakhar never told a soul about what he did next, as no Dwarf's pride would ever allow him to admit to a single moment of cowardice, but he chose to lay down beside his friend and feign death.   As a result, he was the only member of the Clan to actually see the one who brought destruction to the village.  A giant of a man in dark billowing robe and cloak, wearing a harlequin mask walked through the destruction.  The man was surrounded by dozens of demons, beast-men, and several minotaur.   He laughed, and then he and his entourage just causally walked away, never looking back.  

Over a century had passed for Drakhar since that day.   The dwarf's face is now red with anger.  He places his hand upon his chest, feeling both his and Brondo's medals beneath his armor.  They always served as a reminder of the oath he had made that day, to avenge his friend's death, no matter what it took.   And here, before him now, was the one who he had sought for so long.


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## Tom Cashel (Jun 25, 2003)

Ringed by foes before dawn, slavering death on every side, Drakhar, Finn, Celine, Gnorvald and Rix all faced outwards from the middle of their tiny camp.  Pelor's Gleam had not yet crested the horizon; only a grey gloaming in the north hinted at its approach.

The smoke still flowed from small craters caused by Celina's fusilade, and crept across the dew-dappled grass, causing the feral creatures--still gathering at the hilltop to replace those who had charged and perished in spellflame--to hesitate, unsure of easy victory and hesitant to approach.

But the masked one raised one hand and brought it down in a single decisive gesture, like the arc of a headsman's axe.

A great roar to rival thunder rose out of the forest, a rumbling rush of full-throated vitriol that scattered birds from the trees and pumped icewater into the lungs of those five companions.

Feeling as though his chest were sinking inward and numb with fear, Finn prayed softly to Pelor, repeated the same exhortation over and over, wished and hoped and promised nearly anything if only this moment could pass into relative safety with relative swiftness.

Gnorvald and Rix readied their weapons, unsure of what was to follow the great cry, and Celine just sneered as she nocked another spellcharged arrow in its berth.

And then, like a ray of honey, like a flood of fine-spun silk, like a cooling bath on sweat-stained skin, the dawn's light cut through the trees and fell upon the companions' tiny camp.

The horde, and its masked master, had vanished and left only ribbons of fog that stretched down the valley sides from the trees.

Four people sighed deeply with relief, and cautiously made ready to leave this place with all due haste.

But Rix paused, and looked back to see Drakhar frozen in his place, staring up the hillside.  His bearded face twitched once.  He was a force of nature held barely in check.  He was staring at the place where the harlequin had been standing.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 25, 2003)

Finn stood up from behind his shield, spat, and whiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Thats it. I'm done. I'M DONE!" He pulled his wineskin off and threw it into the bushes. He glanced once more up to the top of the ridge where the figures had been standing before the morning sun had broken through the clouds. Nothing. Not a single blessed thing was there. He grabbed his pack, threw it over his shoulder, and stood upright. The others were all throwing there belongings into their packs as well. "Guess there is one advantage to passing out before getting camp ready at night." he thought. "Nothing to pack up in the morning." He upended a kettle of water on the smoldering remains of the fire, tied it to the side of his pack, and looked at the others. 

"All right folks. I don't know what that was all about, but I want to be well away from here before noon time. We've got 20 miles to make today, if Gnorvald's directions are true." 

Who was he to be giving orders to them? Nothing but a drunken, sorry excuse for a priest. Well, someone had to be first on the trail this morning, and he decided it would be him. Head pounding, he turned and headed towards the path they had been following for 3 days. Turning, he saw everyone was moving except Drakhar, still holding his ax and glaring up the hillside. Rix had noticed as well, and was watching the dwarf with interest. 

"Rix, Drakhar, come on. Lets get out of here. We should break from the forest by mid-day at the latest." He turned, and with out looking back, hit the trail.

(edit: spelling)


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## Silver Moon (Jun 25, 2003)

The afterlife had been good for Laretinor Sindafalathion.  The elvan bard had been reunited with his beloved mate, Annona Luinecorire.   They had been together in their mortal lives for over half a millennia, and his final two centuries on the world without her had sometimes been difficult for him to bear.   Now they were together again, and all was well.   No, that wasn’t entirely true.  They still had one fervent tie to the mortal world, and Laretinor’s sense of responsibility for that bond was now nagging at him.

Laretinor levitated down beside his eternal love and embraced her.   She reciprocated, taking a measure of his face.  After a short while they eventually part and she says to him, “I would ask what is bothering you, but I already know.  I have done as you asked, and spoke to the Pantheon about the information you desired.”  “Thank you my dear,” the bard replies, saying the words in the form of an elvan song.  “I do not deserve you.  I ask too much, and you freely give”.  His voice then changes to somber words, with him adding, “And I am not blind to the pains of memory that this has caused you.”  

Annona answers “Yes, but it was necessary.  Our great-grandson needs our guidance.   We cannot abandon him now.  You have molded Celina’s journey through life since the day that you first placed a flute and hand-harp into his toddler hands.”   “How could I do any less?” he states, turning his arm to present to her the star-shaped birthmark above his elbow.  “He too was born with the mark.  I had clung to the mortal world until then, waiting to pass ‘the gift’ on to one of the next generation.”  “Lair,” she playfully replies, “You adored the mortal world, and the accolades you received for sharing ‘the gift’ with our people.  You would have been just as happy to have lived for many centuries more.”   He answers “Without you?  No my dear.  I value our being reunited above all else.”   They embrace again, loosing themselves in each other’s company.  

A short while later they speak again, with him asking “And what exactly did the Pantheon tell you?”   The High Priestess of the Elvan god Corellon Larethian replies, “That the future of Celina and his companions is still uncertain.   The dreaded evil known as Morgarth is indeed on a collision course with their mission.   They have already briefly crossed paths, although the fateful conflict still lies ahead.  The gods see three possible outcomes.   In one, Morgarth is victorious and the adventuring party all perishes.   In the second, Morgarth manages to once again escape but the adventuring party also survives.   In the third path, the evil is finally destroyed, but at a great cost, as a permanent death will come to two of the seven champions.”  “Celina?” Laretinor questions.   She replies, “That is uncertain.  Now, what exactly will you tell him?”

“What you have just told me.  The boy deserves the truth, he has earned that much,” Laretinor states.   “And will you also tell him the truth about Morgarth?” she asks.   He answers, “No, my dear.  I will not share with him that this is the same monster that destroyed your mortal form and also brought such misery to his mother, our granddaughter Enmellonie.  His dwarven companion is already on a quest of vengeance, as another of Celina’s companions will also be once he discovers whose mortal body the Morgarth evil currently occupies.   It is best that we keep Celena’s thoughts from being distracted by such information.”  

“That is wise,” Annona comments, adding “Please make him aware that you may not be able to contact him again.   He has always sought your guidance in times of despair or confusion.  You will not be able to access Celina through his dreams at the final location where they must travel, and he must not become dependent on your advice.”   Laretinor answers, “Yes.  I know.  I have been visiting him far less frequently now that his skills and confidence have grown.  I always knew that the time for separation would come, as has he, but a final goodbye at this time would also create an unnecessary distraction for him.  It is best that this separation just be temporary.  I will save that final conversation until this quest is complete.”


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## ejja_1 (Jun 25, 2003)

Celina cancelled the spell he had charged his arrow with, and placed his weapons upon his back once more. He stepped from the branch into the open air, and floated down like a leaf on a gentle breeze. He landed just behind Drakhar, and placed his hand upon his shoulder. " I felt it too friend dwarf, we have future business with that one." Drakher turned and looked into Celinas eyes, and for a moment his face held nothing but sorrow. But then his usual mask of grim grumpiness returned.
" Remove your hand from me elf, unless you want I should keep it for mine own."
Celinas jerked his hand back quickly.
" Yes my friend dwarf, ill remember not to do that again."
Drakhar smiled. " Yes make sure that you do. Now lets move on, my bruises have almost healed from our last ride. Time to make some fresh ones eh?!"
Celinas smiled at the dwarfs unusual attempt at humor, and decided to file this little miracle in the back of his mind for later use in an epic poem he was writing about their travels.
The pair retrieved their horses and mounted up, kicking their mounts into a gallop to catch the others.


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## Darth Shoju (Jun 25, 2003)

Rix heard Finn call his name from a few feet away. _Ah...he's sobered up long enough to realize what's going on._ Mused the wan little man. _Maybe he'll get used to taking charge and get us organized. Gods know we could use it._ Setting his jaw, Rix turned to regard Drakhar. He saw Celina descend from the branches of a nearby tree and have words with the burly warrior. Slipping easily into the nearby shadows, the diminutive burglar attuned his sharp ears to their conversation. 

_Hmmm...the dwarf seems to be more receptive to the elf than usual, despite the defacement of his family's helm.  An encouraging sign. Perhaps Finn will have an easier time pulling us together than I thought._ At this Rix felt eyes upon him and swiftly looked ahead to where the others had headed into the forest. Gnorvald stood there, looking directly at him. The illusionist wore a strange expression on his face. Uncomfortable being the target of scutiny for a change, Rix gave the man an awkward nod. Gnorvald continued his intense stare for several more moments before returning the nod and heading into the bush. 

_That one bears watching,_ thought Rix. _He's up to something, although I'm not sure what. I wonder if his magical trickery is always in our best interest. There was something about his behaviour at the ancient temple. But I suppose for now we have more immediate concerns..._

Pulling his cowl low over his brow, Rix followed his companions into the forest. His dark eyes remained alert, scouring the foliage for any hint of a white mask.

_[edit; changed my original post to keep from contradicting ejja_1's post.   And to fix some of my poor grammar  ]_


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## Silver Moon (Jun 26, 2003)

The sound of the rooster crowing at the adjacent farm woke Brieanna from her restful slumber.  “Another day ahead of us” she said to the dog lying by her side, “Come along Skigs, let’s see what we can find to keep ourselves busy today”.    She rose and exited from the once abandoned barn that had been her home for the past two years.   The farmer who owned this particular tract of land had voiced no objection to her settling in it, seeing the benefit of having a trained druid nearby.   The arrangement had been mutually beneficial, as she not only kept the structure in fine repair but had also acted as mid-wife during difficult births of his livestock.   The farmer, in turn, gave her this shelter, all of the privacy that she required, and also did his best to keep the locals from bothering her.  

She began the day by checking on the injured and recovering animals under her care.  At this point in time the menagerie included a golden eagle with an injured wing, a bear whose leg had been mangled in a hunter’s trap, and clutch of six newly born baby otters whose mother had been killed by a predator.   Brianna spent time with each, talking softly to them and then providing them each with a nutritious breakfast.   Next she saw to breakfast for herself and her long-time companion, the mutt named Skiggles.   The dog was the offspring of a large golden-colored working dog and a short tan-colored castle dog, having inherited the best personality traits of both his parents.  

It was a warm sunny day, and a morning run was in order.  She draped a cloth jerkin across her upper body, feeling that her wearing the constraining material was both silly and unnecessary, however the farmer had emphasized that the neighbors complained whenever she ran around without the benefit of attire.   Brianna wondered if she would ever understand human customs.  She charged across the field as fast as her hooves would carry her, the dog having difficulty catching up.   This was the aspect of life that she enjoyed most, the freedom and openness of being one with the land.   The centaur society in which she was raised was far too rules-oriented for her to have stayed there, although her need to leave was something that her parents would never truly understand.  

She reached the lake and charged right into it, beginning her morning bath.   The dog soon joined her in the water, dog paddling about.   A short while later a sparrow flew down and landed on her right shoulder.  Brianna shared a special empathy to the creatures she had come to know, and immediately noted that the bird was agitated.    She conversed with it using the rudimentary sounds they had learned to share, interpreting that it had seen strangers in the valley.   “I’d better check this out,” she decided, and commanded the dog to return to the barn.   

She climbed out of the water, shook herself off, and then began a druidic transformation.  Her body began to shrink, although from her perspective it appeared that the ground was rushing up towards her.   Her rear legs became claws, her nose became a beak, and feathers sprouted out upon her body.   When the change was completed she and the sparrow looked to be mirror images of each other.    They took to the sky, and flew westward.   They were soon above the far fields.  Her avian friend led her onward, lowering as they neared a dilapidated wall that marked the border of the farmer’s lands.  

A group of five adventurers were standing alongside the wall.  Their mounts were grazing nearby.   As Brianna neared, she could tell that they consisted of five males of various races.  "Humans, dwarf, elf and gnome?  What an odd combination to be together?" she thought.   What she did not realize was that she had just reached another of life’s crossroads, as she was destined to join these men, and one other, for an epic adventure that would forever alter the path of both her own life as well as that of the world around her.


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## Silver Moon (Jun 27, 2003)

Drakhar had not spoken to anyone for the past three hours.   While most of the party was willing to give him his time alone, Finn was becoming impatient.    They had finally decided to stop for a brief lunch break, and give the mounts a chance to graze.  

Finn approached the Dwarf and asked "Do you have any more of that New Rockhome Dwarven Rotgut?  I could really use some right about now."    The dwarf extracts a metal flask from his pack, and thows it at the cleric with such force that it collides with Finn, and drives him back several feet, falling down beside the rock wall.  

Rix turns to Drakhar and comments "Was that really necessary?  We are supposed to be working as a team".   Drakhar grumbles "He didn't seem to mind."   The party looks towards the wall, to see Finn still lying on the ground, happily drinking from the flask.  

Two sparrows land on the wall nearby, catching Celina's attention.   He approaches the birds, which fly up into a nearby tree.   "That's odd," the bard comments, "birds usually like me."  "Good thing somebody does," the dwarf comments, as he walks over to the wall and pulls the flask from Finn's hands.  Celina thinks to himself, "Good, it's about time things got back to normal."


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## ejja_1 (Jun 27, 2003)

Celina pulls his lute from his back, and strums it thoughtfully.
"Come sing with me brothers
  A song for the ages
  A song full of mages
  where warriors rage and spill blood everywhere

  A song about hero's
  A song about damsels
  A song that they'll sing
  Long after were dust

  We'll sing of our travels to lands farway
  We'll sing of our glories and how we saved the day
  We'll sing of our fortunes and those we have lost
  We'll sing of rewards and also the cost

  So come join me friends and lets celebrate life
  For the darkness will come and envelope us soon
  We'll drink and we'll dance and we'll act quite insane
  As we look upon the face of the moon.

Celina smiled to himself. " Wouldst thou avian brothers join me in lunch? I have plenty of bread to share." Celina broke off a few pieces and scattered them in the air among the tree branchs.
The birds came no closer, and only cocked their heads in curiosity.
" Are you shy little ones? Well enough then, you may feast upon them when we are gone."


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## alsih2o (Jun 28, 2003)

Sedge surveyed the party as he chewed the sweet new growth of the grasses at the edge of camp and longed for oats. Carrying a man was obviously below his station in life, but who knows how long it would take this particular batch of simpletons to realize he was so much more than a horse. 
 Watching these fools bumble through life arguing with one another reminded him of the old days, when he was no more than a wizards apprentice. Back when the constant shuffling and jostling for favor with the older wizards had first pushed him to experiment with the dark arts.
  Three more years in this massive clumsy form and his punishment would be up, unless of course he could muster some way of convincing these misguided fools to change him back. 

 He remembered their last fight with that pety sorcerer kobold, he had clearly recognized the incantations for dispelling and had burst forward hoping to making into the radius of the spell, only to be chastised by his "owner" for being disobedient.


 Soon, soon he would eb free of this damned enchantment and that dimwit whi spent too lazy hoursa on his back would be the first to pay.


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## alsih2o (Jun 28, 2003)

ejja_1 said:
			
		

> **Break in story* yes finn is the human, and is celina a girl or guy? Not that it matters, and it is humorous.* *




 i actually introduced the human and named him rix, shory for veringterix, but that got lost somewhere


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## Kriskrafts (Jun 28, 2003)

**break in story**

The current cast of characters appears to be 

Drakhar Lutgher, male dwarf fighter
Celina Silvanis, male elf bard
Finn, male human cleric of Pelor
Gnorvald, male gnome illusionist
Verignterix (Rix), male human rogue
Brieanna, female centaur druid
Sedge, polymorphed apprentice wizard (currently in horse form)


plus Brieanna's dog Skiggles, and possibly her eagle, bear and baby otters


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## Steverooo (Jun 28, 2003)

*I AM NOT A HERO*

Arrohir stood quietly, as he had been trained, unobserved, unheard.  Eredave's legs gripped him, and the tension was obvious.  He knew the Elf well, having served under him - literally - for many years.

Eredave was annoyed, and quickly becoming disgusted.  Who were these outlanders, and what were they doing in the forest?  Three days they'd been bumbling about, while he had more important things to worry about...  His Dangersense was going haywire, and these fools were playing pranks, arguing, and poisoning each other.  He felt fell and fey, like a Grugach.  He was tempted to order the archers to cut them all down!

Still, his job was to scout, so he held still as a stock, the weeping willow camo's drifting in the breeze the only movement.  He tried to mentally eliminate their noise from the audial fabric of the forest... but they were making it difficult!

In the tree above him, Drengist twiched his tail, only visible when he moved.  Shifting only his eyes, Eredave looked up at him - or where he thought the pseudo-dragon was...  They were all tense.  The night was nearly over, and nothing.  Something was very, very wrong...

Arrohir felt him tense, although there was almost no movement.  Eredave's Dangersense flashed, and he looked towards the top of Barrows Knoll.  _The figure was there!_  A thought ran through his mind.  _Morgul_.  No...  _Morgoth_.  No...  Something.

Moving only slightly, he motioned, and the Arcane Archers prepared.  He glanced at the other troops hidden about the forest, in the trees, under the toadstools.  The noise came from the hills, and he scowled.  What?  He sensed no danger from these beastial humanoids... and he _hated_ all evil humanoids!

The "Adventurers" formed up, then, the drunken Human stumbling and bumbling for his gear, the othe Human slinking away.  The Dwarf seemed stunned.  The Elven Bard pulling a bow, and speaking words, loudly, in the arcane tongue.  Elebane came up to him, whispering.

"Arcane Archer!" he said, pointing to the Elf called Celina.  Eredave nodded.  Elebane ought to know...  Maybe he wouldn't have the archers cut them all down, after all...  Even if they WERE in the way!

Then the noise increased, as hordes of beast-men suddenly seemed to spring from all around them!  General Landir's troops were well-seasoned, and to their credit, no sounds were made, save the quiet, deadly strokes of a few quick weapons, all of which landed to no effect!  Eredave held up one mossy-camoued hand, drawing attention.  He flashed the signal: _Illusion!_  The troops settled back.

The beastmen quickly disappeared, and after a little more stumbling and bumbling, the "Adventurers" got on their way.  Well, at least there weren't any Half-Orcs among them...  Eredave had known one Half-Human, back in Ratik, who was alright, but the ones he'd met since, he'd just as soon shoot as see again.  He really hated evil Humanoids!

As the adventurers left, he signalled the scouts out, then went up the knoll to where the mysterious figure had appeared...  There were EXACTLY TWO footprints on the entire knoll (not counting his); one left, and one right.  He didn't need an archer to cast Detect Magic to tell him that it was in play... but maybe he should track down that Bard, and see what he knew.  The dwarf, too, perhaps.  Then again, maybe not.  They were leaving, and that was fine by him.  The quicker they got out of here, the better he'd like it.

"Elebane, you're in command." he said, striding back down the knoll to Arrohir and remounting.  He turned towards Drengist, pointed, and sped off, knowing the little 'dragon would be there ahead of him.  He was glad to be away from the troops.

After his family was wiped out at age four or five (even he couldn't remember) when their caravan was attacked, Eredave had turned from a misspent youth to a life of exploring and living off the land.  It was those skills that General Landir found so useful, but it was irksome being in an army - especially when you got put in charge of things.  No, scouting was definitely the way to go.

He headed Arrohir towards the bight, and into the Human lands, there.  He took the back paths, fencerows, and dingles, headed towards one farm in particular.  He made no attempts to be quiet, now, but let Arrohir use all his speed.  Even so, anyone seeing the two of them wouldn't have known what they were looking at.

Pulling up at the barn, Eredave reined in Arrohir, letting his neigh do for a greeting.  The Human custom of beating on doors with a fist had never suited him, especially since his were clawed in adamantine.

There was no answer.  He cleared his throat.  No answer.  He got down and looked around.  Two sets of tracks, leading out, but not back.  Taking the reins, he followed them to the lake...  Two sets entered, only one left.  He peered into the water, searching the murky depths, and still came up empty.  Was she a fish?

"Brieanna!"  Still no answer.

If Eredave ever cussed, now would be the time, but he hated vice even more than he hated evil humanoids... almost as much as he hated evil outsiders!  He knew the futility of trying to track a shape-shifting Druidess.  He paused to listen for Drengist, then looked up and shrugged, stroking Arrohir's nose.  He'd made the trip for nothing.  Remounting, he headed back, far more slowly than he came.

Something was going on, and it was bad.  The fact that it wouldn't get worse in daylight was a source of no comfort, at all.  He really needed information, and no one seemed to have any.  He hated that!  Even more than evil humanoids!  As a matter of fact, he wouldn't have minded running into a few of those, right about now, he thought, his hand dropping to the adamantine cable wrapped about his waist.

He smiled; but when Eredave smiled THAT smile of welcome, it wasn't pretty.  He was sure there would be plenty of work to do, soon enough...  Dangersense said there was something big, and dangerous, and nearby, and it was _there_, up in the air, west-by-northwest, but it wasn't moving...  Problem was, there was _nothing there_.  At least not yet.

He shrugged, crossing back out of the dingle an re-entering the forest.  He took his time, in no hurry to return to the troops of General Landir.  He yawned, realizing that he was tired, and trying to remember when the last time he'd slept was.  He snapped to, realizing he was tired enough to be getting stupid.  He changed his course, moving around the area he had previously ridden through, so that no enemy scouts could follow him back to the army.

Thus, he missed the six (seven, counting the polymorphed mage) adventurers having lunch by the wall, and rode right out of this story...  That's okay, however, because if anyone had asked, he would have told them: "I am not a hero!"


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## Silver Moon (Jun 29, 2003)

"Celina, what is it?" Rix asks.   The elf answers "I don't know.  I have this nagging feeling like we just missed something.  Oh well, can't be too important"   "Come on, it's time to get going" Drakhar states.    

The group gets onto their mounts and begins to travel.  At a break in the wall Finn suddenly turns to the east.   "Hey, where are you going?" Rix calls out.  Finn answers "Not sure, just a brief detour I think.  I suddenly had a thought in my head telling me that we need to head this direction.  Pelor's servants give me these premonitions from time to time."   The dwarf states "More likely the drink has affected his mind.  Come on Finn, that's not the direction that Gnorvald indicated."  

Celina states "Drakhar, I am surprised at you!  You are a follower of Moradin.  If you believed that your deity wished you to travel in a certain direction, would you not go that way?  If our party cleric says that we take a short detour then that is what we should do."   "Fine, but if this takes more than an hour I say we turn back," the Dwarf replies.

They travel eastward for a few miles, with two sparrows flying high above.  Brieanna suddenly becomes alarmed when she realizes that they are travelling directly towards her barn.   She flies on ahead as fast as she can, in order to arrive there first.  She flies through an open window in the second floor loft, landing on the ground floor, and transforming back into her centaur form.  She then opens a drawer in her tool cabinet, placing into her jerkin pocket some plants, her sling and several polished stones.    

She hears the sound of the horses coming to a halt outside of the barn's large red double doors.  She grabs her spear from alongside the barn wall, muttering to herself "I haven't had to use this in over a year."   She then charges towards the doors, holding the spear in both hands, and rears up on her hind legs, kicking the doors with her front hooves.  

The doors fly open to the surprise of the five adventurers.  Most startled is Rix, as he had dismounted and was walking towards the doors.  He barely had time to move back as they swung open at him.   The group are all surprised by the sight of the threatening female centaur, but all have the common sense to not reach immediately for their weapons.  

"Who are you?  And what do you want?" she exclaims.   At that exact moment her 'fierce centaur warrior' image becomes somewhat diminished as a sparrow casually lands upon her shoulder.   Celina takes a good look at the bird, also noting a sprig of mistletoe sticking out from the centaur's pocket, and softly smiles to himself.  Finn is the first to speak, saying "Calm down woman.  We mean you know harm.  My deity, the Shining One, has guided us here.  I know not why."    

Brieanna states "You have intruded upon my home.  I demand to know for what reason."   Finn says, "With your permission good woman, I will pray to my god for an answer.  I warn you though, this will probably take a while, and even if I should receive an answer it will probably be rather vague."    Little did Finn know how wrong he would be with both of those comments.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 29, 2003)

Finn walked a short distance away, towards the center of the field to the side of the barn, and sat where the late morning sun shone upon his face. 

"Pelor, lord of light, what are your reasons for..." He was cut of mid sentance by a sharp pain in his forhead followed by a flash of light, then everything went black and he keeled over. Images flashed into his mind-a bearded man holding a horn, riding on the back of a young female centaur; a village burning, with the bodies of women and children cut down by twisted beastmen as they fled; the horn lying on the ground, blood pooled around it; a large stone cairn set into the side of a hill covered with oak trees; the female centaur weaping; the bearded man lying upon a stone slab, the horn resting on his chest; and finally a large stone being rolled into place over the entrance to the cairn.  

Finn propped himself up on one elbow just as his companions reached him. Drakar was muttering something about another blackout. The centaur was still standing in the doorway to the barn, gripping her spear and watching them closely. She was the one in the vision Pelor had just given him. Older, yes, but definitely the same. 

Rix offered Finn his hand. "Boy, just how much have you been drinking? Thats the second time you've gone over today." Finn ignored Rix's questioning, pulling himself up with and brushing the grass from his clothes. He walked back towards the barn, not meeting the centaurs gaze until he stood before her. 

"My lady, I believe we have something to discuss. Pelor doesn't usually grant me visions, occasionally he will give me vague hints or prods me in a direction, and only after long prayers. Just now, however, I have received a vision with a ferocity I have never experienced."

"Yes? Well, out with it. I don't have all day to stand here, and I warn you, the wrong words from your mouth, and you'll be better aquainted with this spear than you want." She still looked fierce, but the sparrow on her shoulder was hopping back and forth, breaking the full effect. Regardless, Finn was sure that she would run him through with the spear without hesitation, should he say anything that insulted her. 

"In my vision, I saw a village burning, the inhabitants slaughtered. A man, red bearded, riding on a centaur. You were that centaur." Finn watched as her face grew pale, and she gripped the spear tighter, knuckles whitening. Regardless, he continued. "I also saw him, buried in a cairn, with a horn upon his chest. The importance of this horn can not be ignored, as it was the focus of several images Pelor saw fit to show me. I believe you knew this man well, and know of that which I speak." He looked to the ground, ready to feel the spear in his belly. "I'm sorry."

He heard a clattering, and looked up. The centaur had dropped the spear, and as he watched she fell to her knees, hands covering her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

After a minute, she seemed to steady herself, and looked at Finn. "I believe we have much to discuss. Please, all of you. Come in. I apologise for the lack of places to sit, but as you can see, I have no use for chairs." With a shudder, she rose, turned and walked back into the barn, tears still falling.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jun 29, 2003)

* break in story *



			
				alsih2o said:
			
		

> * i actually introduced the human and named him rix, shory for veringterix, but that got lost somewhere  *




I think I was typing up my post that introduced Finn at the same time you introduced Rix. Looks like that has been reconciled now, and the party has grown a bit from the original 4... 

BTW, I'm really enjoying this, only wish I had more time to write while at work. 

* end break *


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## megamania (Jun 29, 2003)

OOC:

Just back from Hulk.  I see it has been busy here.  I'll print out the story thus far and try to peice together a "Story Hour" before long.


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## megamania (Jun 29, 2003)

just finished printing.  Lordy!  This will take time.  I have over 30 pages here!  Hope to start tommorrow.


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## Silver Moon (Jun 29, 2003)

megamania said:
			
		

> *I'll print out the story thus far and try to peice together a "Story Hour" before long. *



**Break in Story**  What?  You mean this isn't a Story Hour?   Seriously though, it might not be a bad idea to have it in both places, as that forum gets a lot of lurkers who don't come here.  It shouldn’t take too long to convert either, just using cut and paste and some rather minor editing.   Now back to the tale……
**end break**

As the party walks into the barn their attention is immediately drawn to the large brown bear in one of the barn's stalls.   It would have actually been rather hard to avoid seeing the creature, given that the bear has now stood up on its hind legs to its full ten-foot height and roars at them.   The men reach for their weapons, but do not draw them, as the centaur hurries over to the animal.  

They watch as she speaks calmly to it, and has it sit back down.  She turns towards the men and says "If you will please wait a minute, I had best deal first with this."  "Err, certainly.  Take your time," Drakhar states.    

They watch as she now draws some plants from her pocket and then takes the bear's partially mangled hind leg into her hands.   She casts a series of three spells onto it.  The first causes her hands and the plants to glow with a yellow light, and she rubs them onto the wound.  The bear visibly relaxes, and appears to now be on the verge of falling asleep.   The second spell takes longer to cast, and they watch as the coloring of the injury changes, returning to a the natural flesh tone of the bear, the wound itself completely healing over.  The final spell causes the animal's hair to grow back over the area where the wound had been.   

She then walks the beast to the barn doors, and says something to him that the men hear as a series of growls.   The bear scampers towards the woods, stopping briefly to eye then mens' mounts, before continuing onward into the forest.   She comments  "I did not want to have to do that.   It is always preferable to allow wounds to heal naturally, but that is no longer possible."   Rix asks "Why not, miss…..?"  "Brieanna," she states, "The gods of nature and I have always known that this particular day would arrive.   Before I continue, I first have one question for you all.   Have any of you ever heard of a creature known as Morgarth?"


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## Steverooo (Jun 30, 2003)

Flumph!


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## Steverooo (Jun 30, 2003)

*It's all a CONSPIRACY!*



			
				Cthulhu's Librarian said:
			
		

> ** break in story *
> 
> I think I was typing up my post that introduced Finn at the same time you introduced Rix. Looks like that has been reconciled now, and the party has grown a bit from the original 4...
> * end break * *




It's okay, 'cause as we ALL know, that STEENKING Gnome is really in league with the "Masked Man" (and I DON'T mean the Lone Ranger), and isn't _really_ part of the party at all!...  Riiiiiiight?


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## Steverooo (Jun 30, 2003)

Gnorvald flicked a furtive glance in the general vicinity of Rix.  The silly Human was busy looking at the kneeling Centaur, with occassional glances at the retreating bear.  He suppressed a sly smile.  At last, at last!  Information was forthcoming!  All his many years of toil were almost done!  His petty illusions, earlier, had hurried these dolts along.  This fool knew where Roland's tomb was!  He already knew that it was in a cairn, on a hill!

He fidgetted, readjusting his pants.  _Patience, patience!..._  It would all be over, soon, and he wouldn't need this silly disguise, anymore!

He could barely keep from hopping.  Soon, soon, the horn would be his!


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## alsih2o (Jun 30, 2003)

sedge stared longingly at the centaur...maybe there could be some advantage to his current form after all.


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## ejja_1 (Jun 30, 2003)

When the centaur spoke the accursed ones name, Celina and Drakhar both flinched visably. Celina regained his breath and spoke. " Maybe we should introduce ourselves, Civility has a way of making new friends. I am Celina Silvanis singer of songs and teller of tales, this rather gloomy fellow is Drakhar Lutgher. The other two fellows are Verignterix and Finn, but Verignterix prefers to be called Rix. And the smaller gentleman would be Gnorvald, he doesnt seem to say much other than to tell us where we might be going. And what may we call you fair lady?"
The centaur blushed a bit and spoke. "I am know as Brieanna, my close friends call me Bri."
Celina smiled his best smile." The Bri it is! Now tell us of this nasty Morgarth character."


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## Steverooo (Jul 1, 2003)

"I can too speak!," Gnorvald piped up, then seemed to grow more thoughtful.  He scratched his chin.

"Brie..." he muttered, "isn't that made from goose livers?"

Brieanna scowled at the diminutive gnome.  Gnorvald grinned back up at her.  Celina shot the illusionist a sharp glance, and Drakhar harumphed, and scowled at him.

Finn looked around the barn, then, seeing no place to sit, lowered himself up against a wall.  The others followed suit.  Edging away from the other mounts, Sedge browsed his way into the barn, as though nosing for fodder.

Brieanna, however, seemed in no hurry to begin her tale...


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## Silver Moon (Jul 1, 2003)

The adventuring party, however, was starting to become impatient.  Finally, she speaks, saying "I can see from some of your faces that the name of Morgarth is not foreign to you."  

Rix had maintained his traditional poker face up until this point, yet becomes the first of his companions to actually speak the monster's name.  "Morgarth.  You'd have to come from somewhere pretty far away to have not to have heard that name.  Some type of man-demon I believe, from tales I heard as a kid.  Just meant to scare little kids though, doesn't really exist.  It can't, the stories go back for dozens of centuries, and even a man who was half-demon couldn't live that long."  

The centaur replies "Oh, Morgarth is indeed very real.  And you are partially correct about the phrase 'man-demon'.  But he is not a human and demon half-breed as you have heard.   He is a demon who cohabitates within a human's body.  That is why there are so many stories of it having been destoyed only to return again.  When it's human host dies, the demon moves on to another host."  

Maybe it was due to his upbringing, the rough life he led, or just not being in the right place at the right time, but this was all news to Finn.   He had never heard of this Morgarth prior to this conversation.  But all the pieces of information were now falling together, as this man's wisdom was not something to be underestimated.  He speaks up, saying  "Which is why he wears the robe, cloak and mask.   The human form may change, but his appearance remains constant."  The cleric the adds "And why your gods and mine have drawn us together on this particular day."   

She looks at him more intently than before, eyeing the Holy Symbol of Pelor for the first time.    "Yes" she states, "Your insight does you well, follower of the sun deity.  I trust that you are the leader of this group?"


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## Steverooo (Jul 1, 2003)

*Who, ME?!?*

"Who?  M-me?!?" Finn gasped, and sputtered, as his eyes bugged out.  Rix eyed him, coldly, as he began to sweat, again.  The Rogue wondered if it was the alcohol, or fear... or both.  Gnorvald guffawed, until he caught sight of Drakhar gripping his axe, then suddenly found renewed interest in assaying the contents of his spell component case, again.  The Dwarf relaxed.

"So what is this thing, and what does it want?", he asked, "And more importantly, how do we kill it - or better yet, stop it, once and for all?"  He looked at Finn, again, then back at Bri.  "And what have you, this Pelorite, and the redbeard with the horn got to do with all of that?"

Sedge looked up, cropping some hay, as something from long ago stirred in his memory...  Horn?  Now why did that sound so familiar?

Rix still stood, quietly, arms crossed, watching the rest of the group.  Obviously, Finn wasn't going to take command.  Was the drunk ever going to sober up long enough to be any use?  Rix doubted it.

Lord of light, HA!  If this was the group Pelor (assuming he actually existed) had assembled to save the Universe, then he wasn't too bright!


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## Steverooo (Jul 1, 2003)

*Skiggles*

Having accompanied Brieanna for her morning dip, Skiggles was left to his own devices when his mistress changed into a bird and flew away... but Skiggles was a Druidess' dog, and he knew such things happened, from time to time, so he finished his bath, and then wandered through the nearby fields by himself, for a while.

As the sun rose higher, he began to grow warm, so headed back to the pond for a drink, and to see if his mistress had returned, yet.  She hadn't, but there were some other smells, there.  He'd seen the horse and Elf they belonged to, a few times, and pictures of them flashed through his mind.  The Elf was cross, but spoke to him, sometimes, and was never mean to him.  The horse was alway nice, and never tried to kick him, even when he ran close alongside him.

Skiggles followed their scents, for a while, until he was distracted by other scents...  There were more horses by his barn!  He swerved back, smelling them, then barked, and ran for the barn.

Brieanna's scent was strong, and new, there!  She had come back!  He streaked past the waiting horses, heading for the barn door...

There, he encountered the strange scent.  Sedge grazed just inside the doorway, while a bunch of strange folks stood or sat along the wall, facing his mistress.  The horse's scent was strange, even for a horse ridden by a man... and the others...

Skiggles skidded to a halt, wondering in dog thought who these were, and what was going on.  Then Brieanna whistled for him.

"Here, boy!" she called, patting her leg.  All thoughts of strangers forgotten, Skiggles raced to her, jumping for joy as she patted him, and scratched behind his ears.

After a moment of greeting, he circled to her right, and lay down beside her fetlock, observing the newcomers.  They smelled funny, especially the human with the big round board on his arm...  He stank of rotted plants, sweat, and old vomit.  He must be sick.  Skiggles lay on his belly, and covered his nose with his paws.


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## Silver Moon (Jul 1, 2003)

Brieanna's thoughts were racing "Why did the dwarf have to ask all those questions?   If I tell him I have no idea how to kill Morgarth how will he react?   And how can I tell these strangers the intimate details of my past without breaking down again and loosing their respect?   And they apparently have no leader?  How can we ever hope to destroy Morgarth without someone taking charge?  And I sure as hell don't want that job!"

Finally she speaks "Good Drakhar, I cannot answer all of your questions at this time.  As Finn has already stated, we followers of the gods do not always get a complete and detailed vision, it is often just an impression of what is to come.   What I feel now is that our paths have joined, and that all will be told to us in time.  Give me a few minutes to pack, and we will be on our way."

She wanders over towards the cooking stove in the far corner of the barn.   Near the stove are a pair of large wicker baskets, each basket lined with oiled leather.   The baskets are fastened together with leather cords, about a foot-and-a-half long.   Presently the baskets are filled with firewood, which she dumps ungratiously onto the barn floor.   

She carries the baskets first to a pantry cabinet, filling one halfway with food and beverages.   At another cabinet she carefully places several potted plants into the remainder of that basket.    She next pulls out a trunk from beneath a table, transferring its contents into the second basket.   The items appear to be standard adventuring provisions: rope, blanket, a small mirror, a hand tool with hammer head on one end and knife on the other, and several lumps of coal.   Next she removes from a wooden box a wool coat, a sleaved shirt, and two sleeveless jerkins identical to that which she is wearing.   

She next places a leather bag around her waist, opeining it in the front and filling it with cloth rags.   They watch as she takes six small rat-like creatures from some cloth bedding they are inside and places them into the pouch.     Her last movement is to place the injured eagle sitting on a perch onto the top of the basket with the clothing.   Both baskets are then lifted up and secured along her horse-like back.   She says to the dog "Come Skiggles".


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## ejja_1 (Jul 1, 2003)

Celina glanced at his companions, shrugged his shoulders and pulled out his lute. Drakhar glared at him crossly, but Celina continued as if he hadn't noticed. Celina began to play his lute, a merry traveling tune as he called it. It had no lyrics, and celina played it at times when the party was especially cross or tired. The melody had a way of lightening your mood, and replenishing you energy. 
Drakhar hated to admit it, but the elf wasn't half bad sometimes with that silly lute of his. "Well at least he isnt singing" thought Drakhar.
Finn's head began to clear and he no longer felt so sick, in fact he felt pretty darn good. " Thank you Pelor for all of your blessings "he intoned under his breath.
Rix made no sign that he was even hearing the music, much less enjoying it's effects. 
Gnorvald spit on Celina's shoe and smiled up at him, 
Celina ignored him and continued playing.


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## Steverooo (Jul 2, 2003)

"Well; if it bleeds, I kin kill it," grumbled the Dwarf, as he hefted his axe up and rested it over his right shoulder, "assuming I can get close enough to hit it... and it quits disappearing in the sunlight!"  Struck by an idea, he squinted at the bard.

"Hey!  You know that Daylight thingie?  I heared tell what that Orfeus character could play the sun up, so they say..."

_Bards tell a great many lies,_ thought Rix, though he kept his mouth shut.

"So where are we off to, anyway?" asked Gnorvald, scowling at the unanswering bard.  "Everybody's all ready to run, but where are we running _to_?"

Gnorvald and Drakhar looked at Celina.  Skiggles, Rix, Finn, and Sedge looked at Brieanna.

"Out there; thattaway!" pronounced Finn, when she didn't answer.  Several folks blinked, looking at him questioningly.  He shrugged.

"The road's been good enough for the last several days, I see no reason to change course, now.  So we keep following it."  He grinned.  "Nothing so mysterious about that."

Rix exhaled in a nearly inaudible sigh of relief.  Good!  This Morgarth thing was already more mystery than he could stand.  Any more "divine revelations", and he was going to dump this party like a hot brick, and beat feet while the getting was good!  Let the Mages and Priests muddle with such magical messes!


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## Steverooo (Jul 2, 2003)

*Excelsior!*

Skiggles panted, tongue lolling, as he watched Brieanna gear up.  He didn't know much (never asking much), but he knew a journey was afoot, and they always brought a host of new smells!  Sedge watched Brieanna dress with a similar expression, for reasons of his own...

Gnorvald scampered about, happy to be going on, getting closer to his goal.  He knew that Roland's Cairn probably was within three day's travel (maybe a bit more), and would wager much that Brieanna knew the way.

Rix, travelling light, was pretty much always ready to go.  Drakhar didn't exactly travel light, but he didn't consider that he needed much more than his mail, shield, axes, and warhammer, and he was ready.

Finn, not having taken his pack off since the "fight" with the beastmen, had nothing to gather, for a change.  He was as ready as he would ever be.

Sedge, of course, had no hands, now, and little worry about equipment... for the time being.  Hopefully, that would soon change!

Skiggles, of course, had even fewer worries, save getting stepped on by a careless companion.  He watched as Brieanna finished gearing up.

The Centaur looked around, morosely.  She hated crowds, and to her, this was one.

"Let us go," she said.  Finn mounted Sedge, and she paused outside the barn doors to let the rest mount their steeds as she closed the doors, then lead them down the path to the road.

They travelled the rest of the day, in relative quiet, except for the bard's lute.  Even the forest seemed hushed.  Brieanna thought of her youth, and the destruction of her village, Roland's death, and all the legends of The Morgarth that she had ever heard.  It all seemed hopeless, if they were to oppose... It.

Skiggles thought of little.  His nose was busy.  He didn't smell any rabbits, but there were some birds and lizards, although he couldn't catch sight of any of them.  Didn't anyone want to come out and play?

Gnorvald thought about Roland's Horn, and how he could change the world, with it.  He wondered...

Celina, too, was reviewing all he'd ever heard of Morgarth, in his own mind, which was increasing his unease, and worrying him, no end.  He had heard too many tales, and almost none of them ended happily.  Now, here he was, IN one!

Drakhar stumped along, glad to at least have something to do...  He, alone, was looking forward to meeting this "Morgarth" character!  No friend ever did a Dwarf a favor, no foe ever did one a wrong, without being repaid, in full.  Payment had been due for a very long lifetime, and the interest rate was high.  The principle was also quite huge: One Dwarven village, nearly all the inhabitants, a Clan's history, works of stone, art, and metal...  Nay, even a thousand thousand loving strokes of his waraxe (or warhammer, whichever worked best) were insufficient repayment...  He wondered if he could get this Morgarth in an Antimagic Shell, and...  He drifted off into his imagination.

Rix was watching the way.  Nothing much seemed to be moving, even as evening approached.  That was odd.  It was quiet, and that meant something.  He wondered if Brieanna knew what.

Finn was busy with his own contemplations of the vision, and the day's events.  For the moment, his empty wineskin... and the fact that its empiness had yet to bother him... had escaped his notice.  He was too busy, for once, trying to figure out what Pelor wanted...  Not the head Priest at the temple, not his instructors, not the members of the review committee; Pelor.  And, he was stumped!

As the sun neared the western canopy of the forest, Gnorvald scowled, and looked around.  No one was paying any attention to him (as usual), but he was wondering about camp.  And dinner!  He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps, good compatriots, we should begin looking for a place to sleep?" he piped.  "It's time to bed my weary head!"

Startled from their private thoughts, the others looked around, murmuring assent.  Rix pointed, then turned to Brieanna.

"What's that I can see there, Druidess?" he asked, pointing to a grey blot on the horizon.

"Ruins.  I don't want to camp there." the centaur replied.  Gnorvald sidled up to her, giving her a mournful look.

"Ah, dear... uh... Lady, is that where your red-bearded friend is buried?  A place too sad to revisit, for you?"

"No." Brieanna shook her head, but said no more about it.  "There is an open field a little way ahead.  Come, hurry."

As darkness was falling, they entered the field, and quickly made a fire and set up camp just off the road.  These woods were well guarded by Elves, and they had a Druidess with them, so they had no fear of brigands or animals, yet they found a defensible area, just in case of any other strangeness, similar to that morning's.  A meal was soon prepared, and Brieanna, Skiggles, the eagle, Rix (who had said he'd take the midnight watch), Sedge, and the mounts were soon asleep.  Brieanna's mice were let lose to fend for themselves.

Drakhar was even less communicative than usual, and even Celina seemed uninterested in drawing him out.  Finn made a few attempts at conversation, more out of force of habit than anything else, then lapsed into silence, as well.

Continuing his unusually empathic behaviour, Gnorvald offered to take the first watch, and clean up after the meal.  He was as good as his word, and as Drakhar rolled himself into his cloak, he saw the little Gnome banking the fire for the night, then quietly roaming about, the starlight barely glinting off his tiny dagger's blade.

Hours passed.  The little Gnome fearlessly stalked the dark, quietly passing near the sleepers, in turn.  Midnight passed, as clouds rolled in, but he let the Human Rogue sleep.  At last, the Soul's Midnight came, and he passed through the camp for the final time.  All were asleep, but he intended to make sure!

Moving back to the banked fire, he opened his magical spell component case, once again.  Removing the false bottom, he reached deep inside, removing the mummified hand of a long-dead felon that he had gone to great pains - and no small expense - to harvest in the prescribed manner.  Making several mystical passes with his hands, he spread the powder on his dagger's blade, passing it over the hand and the flame.

"...lock those who sleep in deeper sleep..." he mumbled, finishing his preparations, then tossed the hand into the banked flames, and quickly covered the coals.

_There!_  He looked back at the others.  All the adventurous fools, their mounts, even the dog and eagle, were all now locked in the sleep of the dead, held in the grasp of a Master-Thief's long-dead hand.  They would not awaken until the hand released its grip, and with the fire banked, that would not be until he returned!

Looking towards the ruins, he levitated off the ground, winked out, and quickly flew towards them, to see what he could learn...

The camp was almost completely quiet.  All through the field, not a creature was stirring... _except_ for six mice.  They moved cautiously through the grass, as all good fieldmice do, looking for seeds, and grains, and all such things as interest mice in their nightly forays.  It was no wonder, to them, that Brieanna and the Humans slept the night away.  Such was usually the case, with such large creatures.  They scurried about the field happily, finding the bounty of nature.  Nature had a way of taking care of its own...

...And Brieanna was definitely one of them.  Gnorvald was an Illusionist (or so he claimed).  In any case, he was not a Druid... not even a Ranger.  The clouds continued to roll in.  Before long, they had covered the skies, blotting out the stars.  Sprinkles began, sending the mice scurrying back to Brieanna's pouch.  Soon the rain began to fall.  The sleepers, locked in slumber, held by a long-dead hand, snored on.

Then, the rain put the fire out.

The best-laid plans of mice and men (and sometimes, Gnome Illusionists) often go astray.  Rix coughed, swallowed a bit of rainwater, and woke up.  He was wet, his bedroll was worse, and he was momentarily confused as to why there were no stars, and how he could have slept through the rain.  He rolled over and saw the eagle, still asleep.  The alarms went off in his head.

He threw back the flap and leaped to his feet, filling his hands with steel.  He charged towards Brieanna and Drakhar, roaring.  Drakhar snored, and Brieanna, Skiggles, and the eagle moved not!

He kicked the Dwarf, producing a snort, then Drakhar gulped and blinked, looking irritated, too.  He thwacked Brieanna as he charged past, looking for the others.  Finn and Celina were nearby.

"GET UP!" Rix shouted, beating each with the flat of his blade as he passed.  He looked around in the dark rain.  "Where is Gnorvald?"

"Munh, I dunno...  I'm drowned!" muttered the Dwarf, trying to wring out his sodden cloak.

"My lute!" lamented Celina, turning it over so that a torrent of water poured from inside.  "We must get out of this downpour!"

"GNORVALD!" shouted Rix, "Make for the ruins!"

Busy casting _Speak with Animals_, Brieanna made no comment.  She made sure her mice were all present and accounted for, then Thrindor, the eagle, and finally Skiggles and the mounts.  The party hastily grabbed their wet gear, and slogged off towards the ruins.

Meanwhile, Gnorvald had been busy.  A quick overview of the ruins had turned up no cairns or secret doors, nor even a collapsed stairway down, but he had found some runes carved along an archway.  As the adventurers approached, he was busily translating what he could, chalk in hand, underneath the protection of a _Rope Trick_ spell.

Hearing the other adventurers approaching, he hissed, then dismissed his spell, and slunk away into the dark.  He listened, wondering what had gone wrong with his master plan.

"Are we all here?" Rix asked, ever the practical one.  "Brieanna, where are you?  I can't see a thing in this confounded rain!  Is there any place, here, with a roof?"

"Yes," she answered from out of the murk, "over this way...  Give your mounts their heads; they will follow me."  Then she spoke to Skiggles, and the mounts, and lead them through the piles of fallen and upturned stones.  Sedge couldn't understand a word of it, but he was right behind her.

Shortly, they reached a bit of ruins where two standing walls still had a bit of roof over them, fortunately on the side opposite the wind.  They crowded in, and found a small dry spot, with a chimney.  A torch was soon lit, and everyone could see again.  Skiggles treated them all to an extra shower, then jumped up on the hearth of the old chimney, nosing about.  What he found must have been exciting, for he began barking.  Drakhar moved over to take a look.

"Hey, Rix,... these prints Goblins?" he asked, knowing the Rogue had the best skill in searching out such things.  Rix moved over to the chimney, examining the ashes, and looked them over carefully.

"Yup.  Old, though.  Only still here because of the shelter.  A month, maybe."  He peered out into the rain, once more.  "Where's Gnorvald?  Anyone seen him?  He was supposed to wake me at midnight, and I think it's well past that...  I don't relish having to go back out there to find him..."  He paused, motioning for silence, then drew blades and moved towards where the door would have been, were there a wall there.  Drakhar and the others heard nothing, but moved to back him up, anyway.

"Hullo?!?" a plainitive voice called out, followed by a loud sneeze, nearby, then some splishing noises.  A few moments later, the little Gnome came into dim view, a brightly-colored handkerchief over his nose.

"Gnorvald!" Rix shouted.  The little Gnome jumped, drawing his dagger, then put it away and passed under the roof.

"Thought we'd lost you!" growled the Dwarf.

"Well, it's not like you didn't try!" groused the Gnome, looking so wet and miserable that even the Dwarf took pity on him.  "You guys know I can't keep up with you long-legs!"

"Come, Master Gnome," said Brieanna, "here is wet wood...  Help me stack a fire, and I will light it.  We will do well with another fire, tonight."  The little Illusionist moved to help her, and soon the broken chimney was sizzling.

Even so, the rest of the night was miserable, wet, and cold.  By morning, the rain had passed, and there were no signs of the Morgarth.  The adventurers took their time with breakfast, drying out, as best they could.  Telling the others to keep watch, Drakhar and Rix went out to take a look around.  To their surprise, Gnorvald offered to accompany them.

"Feeling heroic, today?" asked the Dwarf.

"No, ever-so-cautious!" snapped the Gnome.  "This place scares me - although I entered it alone, last night - and if you two run into anything requiring magical talents, why, the two of you might welcome the help!"

"I always welcome _help_!" chuckled Rix.

"Me, too!" grinned the old Dwarf.

"Let's go this way!" said Gnorvald, quickly ducking around a corner.  Rix grabbed his collar, pulling him back.

"In that case," grinned the Dwarf, "I'm definitely going the opposite direction!"

"No, no!" cried the Gnome, as Rix dragged him away.  The Rogue didn't listen, and the Gnome stumped grumpily along behind the pair.

They passed up a street - if street it had been - relatively free of rubble, but now acting as a water channel for last night's downpour.  Drakhar had stopped to examine something on the ground, but Rix's eye was caught by the runes carved above an archway on the wall.

"Tracks, in the stream," Drakhar said, turning his head this way and that, looking at them.  Rix stopped staring at the runes to look at what had caught Drakhar's eye.  "something big." the Dwarf finished.  Squatting, Rix disagreed.

"I think that's just some gouges from run-off, Drakhar.  See how the ends are narrower, and pointy?  Besides, it's too big to be feet."  The Dwarf shook his head.

"It aint run-off.  The pointy toes go thisaway, and the stream's runnin' thataway.  An' just 'cause they're big don't mean much...  Trolls are big."  Rix looked at the tracks, again, then shrugged.

"Impossible to tell how old they are.  What about these runes?  I can't read them, but..."

"I can!" said Drakhar, scouring them with his eyes.


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## Steverooo (Jul 2, 2003)

*The Runes speak*

Gnorvald pretended nonchalance, but he was irritated.  Now that he knew his "comrades" would do the opposite of whatever he suggested, he'd be sure to tell them what NOT to do, from now on!

Still, having the Dwarf translate the Dwarvish might even prove easier.  Some of the words he couldn't translate.

He observed the Dwarf and Man scanning the walls.  He studied them, too, along with his companions.  The rain had washed off his chalk, barely leaving a few streaks of white, here and there.  His translations were ruined, but since the Dwarf obviously read Dwarvish, this might prove even faster!

"Let's get the others!" said Drakhar, gripping his axe.  He turned, and quickly ran back.  Rix and Gnorvald were unable to keep up with him.

"We found somethin'," Drakhar said, as he rushed in, "get yer gear and come on.  Hurry!"  The way he said "Hurry!" stifled any questions, and everyone gathered their gear and moved quickly.  Soon they were assembled before the wall.

"These runes are in Dwarven," Drakhar said, "so prob'ly only I kin read'em...  Anyway, here's what it says, for all I kin make out of it:"

"A warrior must lead, not trained for war,
Not knowing what they're looking for.
Three must follow where one shall lead;
Before it's done, they all shall bleed!

Shadows grim from Wilderland,
Have stretched forth their long, dark hand,
And seized the halls of old King Skaad,
(May he now find his rest with God!)

So Goblin troubles grow and stew,
Now other things are lurking, too,
And fiercer dreads now look this way,
'Til heroes rise to say them nay!

A gentle healer from the wood,
Striving for all creatures' good,
Hating metal raped from Earth,
Looking for the second birth.

A mighty warrior from the town,
Wielding blade to mow foes down,
Searching for a fabled blade,
May find one where the graves are laid.

A stealthy master of much art,
Helps take obstacles apart,
And is the key that ope's the way,
To the ones the Yrc did slay.

A student of the arcane art,
Also must join and be part,
To find the path by leap of faith,
Or float about, in form of Wraith.

A son of Mahal, unattached,
To find the old King, self-dispatched,
From barbarous lands has come afar,
Seeks where Skaad & Khazadal are,

Shall meet the four upon their way,
And find success?  I cannot say.
To find the Old Man of the Wood,
Might make their chances seem more good.

Then into darkness they must fall,
To find the way to King Skaad's Hall,
Track Goblins, kill the Yrc and Troll,
And lose a member, in the bowl.

And there, within the dead troll's bones,
Khazadal his Lord bemoans,
And waits for Mahal's sons to come,
And forge anew Skaads lost Kingdom.

So now we chisel here, this day,
Carven runes to lead the way,
Armor up, prepare for war,
Then venture west, and settle score!

To find the way when all seems lost,
These clues are offered, without cost.
So when your way seems at an end,
Heed these words, with care attend!

The woods-wise healer leads the way,
To find the path where Goblins play,
None else can follow where they lead,
No matter how they beg and plead.

And when the glassine wall is met,
Why, then around it you must get!
And seek the ever-smoking peak;
You're nearer, now, to what you seek!

And when the trail comes to its end,
Then a rogue shall be your friend,
For lest you can grow wings to fly,
Another route he must espy!

Then find the way that enters in,
And start your battles, Khazad-kin!
And venture ever deeper down,
Until King Skaad's bones you have found!

There a Druid's quest shall end.
There you all will lose a friend.
As all about the dead shall lie,
Near the door to darkened sky."

As he read the part about the Troll, Drakhar's eyes flicked to Rix, as if saying "See?  I TOLD you so!"  As he read the rest, however, Drakhar seemed to grow, standing more erect, obviously filled with a new purpose...

Gnorvald and Celina drew out quills and ink, scribbling furiously.  When Drakhar was done, everyone paused for a long, quiet moment, thinking...


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## Steverooo (Jul 2, 2003)

*Adventurers Answer*

"Hmmm!" Rix mused, finally.  "The Warrior must be you, Drakhar."  The Dwarf shook his head, but Rix continued.  "Although which three of us six must follow you, I don't know..."  He glanced around.  "There are six of us!"

"That part I don't understand...  The gentle healer sounds like Brieanna, the stealthy master of much art must be myself.  I assume the arcane student is you, Celina... but who the Barbarian who'll meet us along the way is, I don'know...  And all this stuff about King Skaad and Khazadal, and Mahal, I don't know.  Some of us don't even seem to be mentioned."

Finn bowed his head.  He wasn't.

"Nope, the 'Warrior' isn't me.  I would be the barbarous one from afar, self-dispatched to find the ancient halls of Good King Skaad.  After my village was destroyed, I went through some times that calling 'Barbaric' would be kind...  So the Warrior has to be somebody else...  Anyway, King Skaad was an ancient King-Under-the-Mountain.  His Kingdom was lost, long ago, although nobody seems to remember where it used to be...  Mahal is the Maker, the creator of Dwarves, the Soul-Forger.  Who or what Khazadal is, I dunno.  The name could mean 'Dwarfson', but I think it's a proper name...  Khazad-kin obviously means Dwarves.  Mebbe the student of arcane lore is Gnorvald.  What the rest of it means, I don't get.  Seems like it's saying this was carved long ago, for a time of Goblin-troubles, and it's sayin' both this warrior, and Bri hafta lead..."

"I think both, as well as I, at different times." Rix added.

Finn stared at the runes.  He couldn't read a rune of them, but he raised his head and stared at them, anyway...  If Drakhar was the barbarous one, Rix, Gnorvald/Celina, and Brieanna mentioned, then... maybe HE could be the warrior, not trained for war?  It didn't really seem to fit, but if everyone else was mentioned, maybe...?

Rix glanced at Brieanna, with her bag of mice and basket containing a splint-winged eagle.  Her spear was tipped in obsidian, and as thick as a lance.

"I take it you object to metals 'raped from Earth', Bri?"  She nooded, looking thoughtful.  Finn cleared his throat.

"So, Bri...  Any Goblin troubles, around here?  And what's to the west of here, anyway?"

"No, no Goblin-problems that I know of...  Once you leave the Elven Forests, there're some plains, then the badlands, dusty hills, almost desert, and then the mountains.  Not much of interest."

"Any volcanoes there?" inquired Rix.

"None that I know of." Bri replied.

"Hmmm!"  Rix crossed his arms, stroking his chin with his hand.  "What's an Yrc?"

"That I can answer!" Celina smiled.  "Yrc is Sindarin for Orc.  Oddly, though, it's singular.  Yrch is plural."

"So who are the ones the Yrc did slay?" wondered Rix.  Celina shrugged.

"Few songs about Good King Skaad survive, I fear.  He was a Dwarf who set out to found, and later rule, his own kingdom.  He did well, for some time, before being wiped out.  The only other thing I know for sure is that they were supposed to have forged weapons of surpassing quality... even for Dwarves."

"That's good steel!" said Drakhar.

"Well," sighed Finn, "'Not knowing what they're looking for' sure sounds like us.  The rest of it, I don't like...  Shadows from Wilderland with long, dark hands, Goblins, falling into darkness, where Goblins play, losing a friend in a bowl...  It's all very depressing."

"Bah!" spat Gnorvald.  "Am I the only one who has problems with this Prophecy business?  Now Drakhar being interested, I can see...  After all, he's a Dwarf...  But the rest of you?  What makes you think any of this applies to you?  Let's get back on the road!  Daylight's wasting!"

"A gentle healer from the wood,
Striving for all creatures' good,
Hating metal raped from Earth," quoted Bri, stroking Thrindor.

"A stealthy master of much art,
Helps take obstacles apart,
And is the key that ope's the way,
To the ones the Yrc did slay." rhymed Rix.

"A student of the arcane art,
Also must join and be part,
To find the path by leap of faith,
Or float about, in form of Wraith." mused Celina.  "I don't know Wraithform, or Gaseous Cloud...  You, Gnorvald?"

"No!"

"A son of Mahal, unattached,
To find the old King, self-dispatched,
From barbarous lands has come afar,
Seeks where Skaad and Khazadal are...  That'd be me, even though I'm a Fighter, too, like all Dwarves."

"So who is this Old Man of the Wood?  Bri?"  Finn looked at her, hoping she had some answers.

"I have never heard a Human called that," Bri answered, "and if it is a Nature Spirit, or Fey, I have neither met it, nor heard it called that."

"Mysterious Warriors!  Old Men in the Woods!  Boogies that go bump in the night!"  Gnorvald smiled, and made faces.  "Yah, yah!  Well, your silly prophecy doesn't mention me, or Celina, or Finn, apparently.  So that leaves three of you to follow this mystery Warrior, when he shows up!"

"Well... that _ might_ be me..." Finn said, uncertainly.  "After all, I am from a town...  Not searching for any blade to mow foes down, however..."

"See?" said the Gnome.  "Not you.  So now it's the Mystery-Man, Old-Man, Drakhar, Bri, and _maybe_ Rix.  The rest of us, at least, should go on!  Let's go rob a tomb, or something!"

"Hmmmph!  Well, I'M going west," said Drakhar, "and if the rest of you want to run away like little girls, then I guess here our roads shall part!" swore the Dwarf.  "I'm going to see King Skaad's halls, and bury his bones, if I can.  The rest of you do what you want!"  The Dwarf stumped over to look at the arch more closely.

"And since 'ope' is poetic for 'open'," added Rix, "I'm with you!"  He moved to follow the Dwarf.

"And where poetics are mentioned, ever the Bard must go!" added Celina, following the duo.

"And, I suppose, I must seek the Second Birth!" said Brieanna, stepping aside with them.

"And our causes are linked, as we saw yesterday." said Finn, following the Centaur, Sedge following along with him.

"Well I'M not going!" said Gnorvald, crossing his arms over his chest.  As usual, no one noticed him.  "I SAID, I'M NOT GOING!" he yelled.  Bri looked back at him, then spoke quietly to Rix.

"Go ahead!  Leave me here, all alone, then!  Break up the party!  Abandon me, a helpless Gnome, all alone in the wilderness!  Go ahead, leave!" Gnorvald cried, knowing that they never did what he told them to...

"If you insist!" replied Rix, and proceeded to ignore the fuming Gnome.

Drakhar was looking at the archway, and the rune, there.  He spoke quietly to Rix, who moved closer, and carefully examined the stone, there.  Interested despite his anger, Gnorvald moved closer.

Rix and Drakhar had apparently found a trap.  Rix pulled out some tools and began to work.  There was a loud "click", then he put his hands on the stone, and felt around, for a long time.  After a bunch of that, he went back to work with the tools.  Sometime later, he opened a secret door.  Gnorvald gasped.  He'd missed it, in the dark!  He stood up from where he'd been sitting, and went to the now-crowded doorway.

Rix and Drakhar were inside a small room, the rest standing outside, weapons ready.  There was no tomb, and no stairway down, but then Roland was a Human, and this place was Dwarvish, so Gnorvald didn't really expect it.  This seemed to be a small storage chamber.  Weapons of Dwarf-make lined the walls...

"I'll see if any are magic!" volunteered the Gnome.  "Nope!" he lied, eyeing the big, two-handed blade that was.  The rest were normal battle gear: Ugroshes, Waraxes, swords and spears, many handaxes, etc.  Appraising the equipment with a practiced eye, Rix evaluated their quality and worth.

"Drakhar, this waraxe looks better than yours.  Why don't you trade yours in on a newer model?"

"Trade it in, nothin'!  I've borne this-here axe for over farty years, I don't plan to leave it here to get pawed-over by Gobblers!... but I'll take me a few of these, anyway."  So saying, he took a handaxe, the waraxe Rix proffered, and an Ugrosh, carefully wrapping his older weapons and stowing them in his nearly-empty pack.

"These swords look good..." began Celina.

"You won't find better, unless they're made by Master-Elves," Drakhar interrupted, "and I've seen your blade.  Here, take this one."  Celina accepted the blade.

"Hey!  Hand me the big two-hander!" Gnorvald piped, grinning impishly.  Drakhar grimaced at him, but reached for it...

His hand passed through it.

"Huh?"  He tried again; with the same result.  He glared at Gnorvald.  "I thought you said this thang weren't magic?  Celina!"

"I'm sorry, Drakhar, I don't have that song memorized, for today."

Rix tried to grasp the sword, but he couldn't touch it, either.  Then Celina.  Then Gnorvald.  Then Bri.  Finally, Finn lifted it from where it hung.  Glances were silently exchanged.

"I guess this means I hafta lead West, huh?" he asked gloomily.  "If any of the rest of you want some of these weapons, grab'em now..."  Wondering who the two who must die were, and whether his lack of Leadership and battle-skills would cause their deaths, he sadly buckled the massive sword's belt around his skinny waist, and stepped outside.


----------



## Steverooo (Jul 2, 2003)

*OoC:*

Okay, enough from me, for a while...  The problem with these round-robin doodads is always that they lack direction - so I gave it one: West.  Somebody (maybe the person who introduced it) needs to develop The Morgarth, and tell us of its plans.

So how does all this fit with old King Skaad?  Well... actually... it doesn't!  I just threw all that in, 'cause I had this-here Prophetic Rhyme I'd worked up for a game, and it fit well enough that I threw it in there...  So use it or not, as fits the story.  Again, it gives some direction, while still being terribly vague, as all such things are.

As for Finn's new sword, I see it as being wieldable only by a Paladin...  'Nuff said.

The development of Roland (the red-bearded guy from the visions) I leave to whoever created him...  With the name and the horn, however, I think the allusions to the French Knight are obvious...

Character development, and plot-advancement, are always nice, and not too hard to work into a post... even if you don't post novels like mine!   

Don't be lettin' Silvery-Moon & I take over, now, y'all!  Shucks, none of the mice, and only ONE of the mounts has been named!  With Sedge being a horse, who knows what Skiggles is!   

Next!?!


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## Silver Moon (Jul 2, 2003)

***continued break in story****
I agree with Steveroo, the more the merrier.  Lately most of the story has been by written him, ejja_1. alsh2o and myself.  I've been plugging it over on the "Prose" forum of Randomling's House, hoping for some of those aspiring writers to join in.     

Brieanna's mice are actually her six baby otters, although Celina is probably the only one to have actually noticed they weren't mice.   Skiggles (BTW, the name my daughter gave her cat) is what he is, a loyal companion to the druid.  Steve, Thanks for giving the eagle a name.   If or when the group needs a bird's-eye-view she could always accellerate its healing, as she did with the bear.   

So the guantlet has been thrown down...feel free to pick it up (especially you lurkers - it doesn't need to be a novel, just a paragraph or two to move the story along).


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## ejja_1 (Jul 2, 2003)

*OOC*

Just as an aside, Celina was not effected by the sleep spell. 
(he is an elf after all.) But has decided to keep his knowledge of Gnorvalds actions to himself for personal reasons.
Celina will follow Drakhar, as he beleaves their destiny is interlinked.
Sound good?
Ejja_1


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## Steverooo (Jul 3, 2003)

****Continued Story Break****



			
				Silver Moon said:
			
		

> *Brieanna's mice are actually her six baby otters, although Celina is probably the only one to have actually noticed they weren't mice.*




Yeah, I noticed that, AFTER posting, when I went back to review...  I guess I just introduced six more characters into the story... my bad.  Oh well, otters wouldn't have scurried back to the pouch when it rained, anywho.  They would have gone body-surfing!


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## Steverooo (Jul 3, 2003)

*R*** Story Break 2 ****



			
				ejja_1 said:
			
		

> *Just as an aside, Celina was not effected by the sleep spell.
> (he is an elf after all.)*




Just as an aside to the aside, it wasn't a _Sleep_ spell.  It was a specialty spell, related to 3.5e _Deeper Slumber_ with a Power Component.


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## Steverooo (Jul 3, 2003)

*Another Mistake*

***Story Break Continues***

I also seem to have wiped out Drakhar's Dwarven village, when he was the only one in it who SAW MORGARTH, not the only one who survived, like I thought.  Another boo-boo; mea culpa.


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## Cthulhu's Librarian (Jul 3, 2003)

*Re: Adventurers Answer*



			
				Steverooo said:
			
		

> *...he sadly buckled the massive sword's belt around his skinny waist, and stepped outside. *




After taking a few steps, Finn realized that the sword was far to big to be hanging from his belt. 

"Well, isn't this just grand. I get to be the leader, get to carry the biggest sword, and not only have I never been trained for war, the closest I've come to using a blade this size is cutting my dinner with a knife. And now, this thing is going to trip me if I can't figure a way to keep it from dragging on the ground or slipping between my feet. Boy, I could use a drink..." 

As the words left his mouth, Finn realized that it had been almost 2 days since he had last had a drink of anything other than water. 2 days. That had to be a record. He had been drinking for almost 4 years now, between the streets, then the monastary, and then back to the streets again. No, he wasn't going to fall back on wine again. 

He removed his pack and dug around for the waterskin that he had stashed inside yesterday. As he drank the cool water, he realized that not only had he not had any alcohol, he had also not had any headaches. That was good. If he was to be anyones leader, it would be good to not have his head pounding when it came time to make a decision that could mean life or death for him or his companions. 

He turned back to the door and called out to the dwarf. "Hey Drakhar, can you come give me a hand? I've never exactly used one of these blades before, and I figure if I'm to learn, I first need to figure out how to wear it without falling flat on my face." Under his breath he added "I can do well enough at that without being tripped by my own sword..."

Drakar came out carrying his new axes, and looked at Finn. The cleric looked pitiful standing there, holding the big two-handed sword as if he had no idea what to do with it. Beat-up breastplate, torn clothes sewn together in far too many places, shield in bad need of some repair, and mace beginning to tarnish. And that wasn't even counting his wet hair hanging dark around his face and that pitiful excuse for a beard that had been growing since they had last been in a town. 

"So you get to be our leader. If thats your calling, you're going to need to do alot to spruce up your image, boy, or someone else is going to kick you back to the bottom of the heap. And either grown your damn beard like you mean it, or shave it. Now what do you need?"

Finn looked at Drakar. He supposed that the dwarfs words could be taken as a complement, that he would follow until Finn either proved his worth, or proved just how wrong the rhyme was. 

"Um, I need a hand getting this sword to hang straight. I figured that you might be able to help me, simce you probably have more experience with weapons than any of us. Especially me." He looked down at the ground. " After that, I'll go see what i can do about my beard." He gave a half smile, and held the sword and belt out to the dwarf. 

Drakar took the belt and made several adjustments to it. 

"Well, you see, this here needs to be tighter, so as to fit you. Looks like the previous owner was quite a bit larger than you are. And this strap, this'll keep the sword from swinging around and hitting you in the arse. Now there should be one more here thats missing." He looked around, and spotted Finns pack. "Ah, here, this'll do." He pulled out a dagger, and before Finn could protest, he had cut one of the straps from the pack and was attaching it to the swords scabbord, then to the belt. 

"Here, put it on now." 

Finn took the belt, and buckled it. Better, but not great.

"No, no. Suck your gut in, then tighten it! Humans, I swear, they can't wear a blade unless shown every detail..." 

Finn sucked in, pulled on the belt, and buckled it. A minor adjustment, and it was hanging much better. The balance was awkward, but not terrible. He'd just have to get used to the weight. 

"Great. Hey, thanks. Now you'll just have to teach me how to swing it and not hurt myself." 

He picked up his pack, and looked at where the strap had been. It was nothing a bit of rope and hide couldn't fix temporarily, but it certainly wouldn't help his image any. He really must look a wreck. 

"Drakar, would you mind getting Rix and the rest together? I'm going to go clean up a bit and see if I can figure out what we do next."


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## Steverooo (Jul 3, 2003)

> ***break in story**
> 
> The current cast of characters appears to be
> 
> ...


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## ejja_1 (Jul 3, 2003)

*Re: R*** Story Break 2 ****



			
				Steverooo said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Just as an aside to the aside, it wasn't a Sleep spell.  It was a specialty spell, related to 3.5e Deeper Slumber with a Power Component. *




I choose not to recognize 3.5, thats why I didnt recognize the spell. So now there are sleep spells that effect elves?
Ok, whatever works for the plotline I guesse.


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## Steverooo (Jul 3, 2003)

*Re: *** Story Break 2 ****



			
				ejja_1 said:
			
		

> *I choose not to recognize 3.5, thats why I didnt recognize the spell. So now there are sleep spells that effect elves?
> Ok, whatever works for the plotline I guesse. *




 

Well, same toya!...  If it doesn't suit the plotline to have Celina be slept, then write something on what _did_ happen, instead... (like why he would lay there in a downpour, after Gnorvald turned invisible).

Maybe his ghostly ancestors were busy visiting him, at the time?  (Silver Moon, I believe, set that up, but we have yet to see it happen).


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## ejja_1 (Jul 3, 2003)

*He was laying on hands(wink wink nudge nudge)*

Way OOC


I was thinking about that as well, but didnt want to steal anyones fire.
I will however steal everyone's earth and wind, so mind your elements!


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## Silver Moon (Jul 3, 2003)

ejja_1 said:
			
		

> [B I was thinking about that as well, but didnt want to steal anyones fire.



***(More out-of-game-dialogue)**

Steal away, any and all things written by me are "group property" for anyone to pick up and run with, all I ask is that Skiggles continues to be a dog.         BTW, I'm still plugging this thread over on the "Writing" board of Randomling's House.  Nobody has joined in yet, but I'll keep trying.


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## ejja_1 (Jul 3, 2003)

*Prelude to the discovery of the Tomb and it's prophecy*

Celina drifted off into sleep with the others after an exausting day, he slept fitfully at first but then fell into a deep slumber.
In his dreams his father and mother stood with him on the shores of Evneska, the place of his birth and home to his clan. They walked along the shore, and watched as the waves crashed upon the shore. It was his peacefull place where his mind went when he needed to escape, for the times when music just wasnt enough. His mother was beautifull, and had a voice that rang like windchimes in a cool autumn breeze. His father was tall and proud, a warrior strong in both body and mind.
His father spoke to him in his mind, telling him of events yet to come. He told Celina of the sacrifices that his friends and he had to make, and of the loss of life they would have to endure.
He told him of a talisman that they would find in the bowels of thje Dwarf Kings barrow, and how that talisman would aid them in the destruction of a great evil. Once his father had told him these things, his mother whispered in his ear a spell song that he was only to play when the moment was right. She said that he would know when to sing, that his very soul would ache to release the words from his lips.
Then they were together on the shore, but Celina was as if he were on a boat sailing away from them. He cried out for his parents embrace, and heard their voices one last time.
"When your time is done we will meet again, until then be true to thine friends for they are your family now."
Celina woke with a start to the rain that cascaded down from above, and the voice of Rix as the flat of his sword impacted his rear. " Ouch! I told you im not that way you barbarian!" Celina rolled to his feet and found that his lute had filled with rain water.
" My Lute! We must get out of this downpour before we catch our deaths!" Celina started to run and almost slipped and fell into a large puddle, as the dog Bri had called Skiggles had charged past him towards the ruins.
Celina hoped the rain hid his tears as he remembered his dream, he was able to reign in his emotions before they had entered the ruins. He caught site of Drakhar, and the mirror image of his own sorrow on the dwarfs countanance. It was then that Celina decided to follow the dwarf to what ever end he may meet, and to stand next to his friend when the darkness finally came.


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## Steverooo (Jul 4, 2003)

*Elsewhere...*

That same night, others were visited in dreams, as well.  Having been trapped for so long, The Morgarth reached out, impatient for release.  With the ebbing of daylight, it gathered its powers, and once more called upon the Lord of Secrets in Darkness.  Darkness came, and filled the tomb where The Morgarth chafed.  It bowed before its master, a humble, if disloyal, servant.

"Where is your servant?  Why do I still wait here, in this body?" The Morgarth asked the Lord.

"He comesss, Massster.  Even now, he comesss..." hissed the Lord.

"He is too slow."

"Ssslow, but sssure...  He is bringing you aid... but the aides mussst not sussspect!..."

"Even so, hurry him along.  This body is too old.  I will have a new one, soon!"

"Yesss, Massster!..."  The darkness seemed to coalesce, then left the tomb.  Alone again, The Morgarth sat its body down.  Composing its thoughts, it gathered power, for a time, then projected a portion of its self to another tomb.

There, it cowed its servants, again, and ordered all things to its will.  No progress had been made on breaching the barriers, but what did one expect from such creatures?  Still, he could put the fear of Morgarth into them, for their failure!

Gazing upon the robe, mask, and cloak, It created a lesser form of itself within the throne room.  While this miniscule fraction of Its might could do little, it was more than enough to cow the miserable creatures that had flocked to Its banner.  The form sat on its throne, ordering its new realm thoughout the night...  There were many things to do, before daylight returned!

The Lord of Secrets Hidden in Darkness, meanwhile, carried out its new orders to hurry its servant along.  He being awake, it couldn't use dreams, but "illuminated" things within his mind with darkness, calling them to his attention, and then revealing their secrets to him...

While their time together was interrupted, the Lord then had a chance to whisper to his servant in sleep, when his mind was the most receptive.  The location of the Tomb was revealed, and a sense of urgency was instilled in him.

"Come to me!..." his Lord said.

In yet another place, Pelor and Pholtus sat, watching their followers.  Something impinged upon Pelor's thoughts, and he quickly searched for the source of the oddity...  One of his minor missionary priests, it seemed, was being called!  Now who would dare call upon one of his priests?  He examined the energies carefully.

Not who, but _what_!  Ah well, this one had a little light in him, but not enough to be worth the trouble he so often caused.  He had, not too long ago, broken the nose of one of the high priests at his temple in Lundria, and been banished until he gained 100 converts.  So far, he had attempted none.  He would never be much use as a priest.  The boy was from the streets, and had ever been too much of an urchin and too little of an ecclesiastic.  He was a brawler, but not even fit for the War Domain.

Looking over the philosophy that called the young man, Pelor found it not at odds with his own ends, and decided to let the boy follow his own path.  He would allow Finn what blessings he had already learned, while freeing him to find his own path.


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## Steverooo (Jul 4, 2003)

*Day 2*

So after adjusting his belt and waiting for the rest of the party to finish going through the weapons in the ancient Dwarven storeroom, Finn drew his new sword (which, long as it was, made it harder than he thought it should be).

"Okay, people," he called, "are we ready to go, yet?  Has everyone got all their stuff from the ruin where we slept?  We need to get going!"

"No," said Gnorvald, "like I said, before, I'm not going!  Remember the fight with the Kobold Sorcerer in the abandoned Temple?  Remember the runes, there?  I swear the roundish one was treasure!  I'm going where that is!  We can always go hunt King Skaad later!  He's been dead more than a hundred years, he can wait a couple more days!"

"More than a hundred years?" asked Celina.  "More like a thousand, and some... and didn't we already tell you that we are all going west?  Where is it that you think the road leads you?"

"Okay, okay!" grumbled the Gnome.  "I wasn't going to tell you this, but...  I think I've figured out some of those runes from the temple...  There's a powerful artifact, and it might help you on your quest.  I had a dream, last night, and I think I saw a vision of where it is, but I can't get it, by myself!  I might need a Rogue to ope the way for me, or some fighters to driveoff guardians!..."

"Then you'd better stick with us, unless you think you can find another!" said Rix.  "We're all going West.  Now what is this Artifact that you think you've found?"

"Pah!" spat the Gnome.  "You think I'll tell you?  Come and see!  Come with me!"

"Well," said Finn, "anyone else in favor of turning aside?"  He looked around, at Rix, Bri, Celina, Drakhar, and back to Gnorvald.  "Looks like you're outvoted, Gnorvald...  You coming with us?  I'd hate to split up the party..."

The gnome ran his left hand through his hair, while gritting his teeth.  He scowled at the dratted party, then asked himself who needed them.  They were generally more trouble than they were worth, even if their abilities might have been useful.  He sighed.

"If you want to go chasing after long-lost Dwarven Kingdoms, instead of valuable artifacts, then go!  I'm surprised, at you, anyway; I thought at least YOU would have more sense, Rix!"

Rix smiled.  The Gnome shrugged, turned, and walked away.  As he followed the water-channel out of the ruins, he called back, over his shoulder:

"Don't be surprised if, the next time you see me, I'm running everything!  I won't forget you, my erstwhile companions!  Fare free, since that is your choice!"

Lining up behind Finn and Bri, the others made no reply.  Gnorvald stopped to watch them ride away westward, until they were lost from view among the ruins.

_Good riddance to bad rubbish!_, he thought to himself.  Then he turned and headed north down the road, again, looking for Roland's Tomb, seen in a nightly vision...


----------



## Silver Moon (Jul 4, 2003)

Brieanna had been with the adventurers for two full days at this point, and was reflecting upon the opinions that she had developed of each.   "The human boy named Finn is not recognized by any of his companions as a leader, yet that appeared to be the role he is developing into.   Similarly, the older human, Rix, remains quiet most of the time, yet when he speaks the others all seemed to listen to him.   Celina is generally ignored by all of them, and yet appears to be the most brilliant of the group.  And the elf seems to have no problem with being so greatly underestimated, perhaps trying to influence us in his more subtle method of nearly continuous song.   

Most interesting thus far is my relationship with the dwarf Drakhar.  He gives the appearance of being in a perpetual foul mood, yet had become one of the friendliest in the group towards me.   Aside from one brief misunderstanding when he attempted to feed the baby otters to the eagle Thrindor, thinking that I had actually brought them along as fresh food for the bird, we have got long splendidly.   Perhaps it is because we both feel like outsiders, having been raised in strict upbringings with little contact outside of our own races."  

Her thoughts return to her physical surroundings, as Finn stops his horse alongside the top of a grassy hill with a stream running down it.   He states "This looks like a good place to camp.   Grass and water for the mounts, and also defensible high ground.  Brie, the stream appears to flow into a pond at the bottom of the hill, behind those trees, if you care to wash up again."  "Thank you, I believe I shall" she states, as Drakhar helps remove the two baskets from her back.   

She trots down the hill, and once blocked from the party's sight, removes her jerkin and charges into the pond.   She actually could care less if they gaze upon her body, but she has come to appreciate privacy that the baths allow, so has continued this ruse of modesty.     The shallow pond has a muddy bottom, which her rapid entry into has stirred the water up into a brown murky frenzy.   She decides to walk very slowly, to allowing the water to settle again.  Her front right hoof then strikes something hard, a submerged log?  Another tab confirms her initial instinct, not wood but metal.   

Feeling around the metal appears to be the shape of a man, a full suit of plate mail!   She contemplates the best way to remove it from the pond, deciding upon the form of a giant gorilla.   She completes the transformation, using the combined dexterity and strength of the primate to lift the waterlogged armor from the reeds and muck that have caked over it.   She deposits it on the shore, and watches as gallons of water flow out of it.  She then transforms back into her normal form, and reattaches her jerkin.  

Lifting the helmet visor, she sees a human skeletal head still inside.  She closes the visor again, and again lifts up the armor.   It is still heavy, due to the weight of the metal, but with the water now drained from it she is capable of carrying it up the hill.   At the first sight of her carrying what appears to be an armored man the others stop setting up camp.    She lies the armor down on the grass near them, saying, "He was submerged in the pond.  For how long I cannot say."  

A quick examination shows that the armor is rusted in several places.  Two leather sheathes are rotted, as is the belt holding them.   One sheathe has a rusty longsword, the other holding a dagger that is in excellent condition.  "Must be magical," Drakhar states.   Also in the belt is a bone scroll case.  Celina carefully removes it, stating "The seal to the cap is waxed.  The contents may still be dry."   

The case is open, and two dry pieces of parchment are removed and handed to Celina.  The bard states "Both pages are in magical script.   The first appears to be a song.  The second is scroll with three wizard spells: Polymorph Self, Power Word Stun, and Prismatic Wall."  He thinks and comments "The scroll is probably one page from a larger volume, given where all three spell names fall in the alphabet."  "And the song?" Finn asks.   Celina replies "I had best carefully study this for a while.  Magical songs are not something to take lightly."    

The party continues to study the remains of the drowned knight, except for Brieanna.   She is now carefully watching Finn's horse.  Skiggles had alerted her to fact that it had an odd smell to it.   When Celina had stated the name of the "Polymorph Self" spell the animal had suddenly moved its head in a swift and startled jolt.   Brieanna was never one to believe in coincidences.  "Could this be someone working for Morgarth?" she pondered.  She almost tells the others, but then reconsiders.  "Best to wait until we reach a community where we can get another horse.  If I force the confrontation now then Finn will be without a mount, and might look to me as a substitution.   I have not allowed anyone to ride upon me since Roland died, and I prefer to keep it that way."  

Drakhar hands the magical dagger to Rix.   He casually examines one side of it, and then turns it over.   On the other side, molded into the steel along the hilt is some type of family crest with initials carved beside it.   Rix's face suddenly turns pale, and his hands begin to shake.   He softly speaks, quiet as a whisper but heard by all around him, "No, it can't be!"


----------



## Steverooo (Jul 5, 2003)

*Meanwhile...*

Having been "abandoned" by his "compatriots", Gnorvald walked a short way, until he came, again, to where their camp had been, before the downpour of the previous night.  Once there, he saw the undisturbed remains of the fire, and poked about in it, for a bit.

Finding the semi-burned remnants of the hand, there, he realized what had gone wrong, the night before.  He stuffed it into his case for later use, then looked back towards the now-distant ruins.  Seeing no one in sight, he stepped into the nearby woods for cover, then allowed his shape to shift back to normal.  He expanded, in all directions, becoming a light shade of blue.

He stopped and flexed his muscles, for a few moments, searching the underbrush with his eyes as he did.  Satisfied, he once more turned invisible, and took to the air, looking for the Cairn of stone that he had seen in his dreams the night before.

It wasn't as easy to find from the air as he had thought it would be, and he spent most of the day searching for it, after the duration of flight wore off.  Eventually, he found the deserted Cairn within the forest's canopy.

It was a rocky little knoll, secluded within a hollow, and surrounded by oak trees, dripping with moss.  It seemed a lonely place, and showed no signs of having been visited.  The grass within the area was long and tousled, and there were no paths.

Gnorvald waded through the grass, which was barely ankle-deep and no hindrance to him, now, and looked at the Cairn, itself.  This was the place!  He searched for the door he knew must be there...  Gripping it with large, hard claws, he slowly bent it until it sprang free.  Grinning so that his fangs showed, he stooped and entered the Cairn.

As he eagerly pressed forward, his horns struck something, and he was thrown back.  Agh!  Some sort of Guard, or Ward!  This would take a little more time!...

He bagan by casting _Detect Magic_, and settled in for as long as it might take.  The other adventurers would've come in handy, now...  He could have used Rix, especially, to aid in locating any non-magical traps.  But he was patient.  It had taken decades to get here; if it took days to get to the Horn, it would all be well worth it in the end!...


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## Silver Moon (Jul 5, 2003)

*Elsewhere (again)*

The Morgarth was becoming more and more impatient.   The encounter with the paladin the previous month had come back to haunt him once again.   That foolish mortal had the audacity to physically attack the great Morgarth.  Naturally, the paladin paid the ultimate price for that transgression.  Captured, tortured, and then forced to match as Morgarth's minions slew the man's family and the entire populace of the paladin's home village, before Morgarth himself delivered the deathblow.  But it was not enough.  The wound that was inflicted by the paladin's holy sword *would not heal!*  Every day more life seeped from the body of the current host, a fact that Morgarth dared not share with his followers, lest one of them might decide to take advantage of it's master's misfortune.  

The mortal body of Lord Veringtor had served him well for the past decade.   The Morgarth had used the Lord's fortune and position to his advantage, making the Lord's Castle his base, to spread the objectives of his Liege throughout the world.  And the imbecilic people of this world never even suspected.  Even those who were aware of the Morgarth still mistakenly believed him demon rather than devil-spawn!   And the only ones to ever become suspicious of the changes in the personality and priorities of Lord Verington were his three children.   The daughter Vertitalla was the easiest to be rid of, marrying her off to the Emperor of a far away land.   The youngest son, Veringterix, had also been easy to manipulate, sending him off on a continuous series of fool's errands.  Only the eldest son, the paladin Veringtorlux, came close to finding out the truth before being dispatched by Morgarth's most trusted lieutenant, the lesser devil known as Delgroth.   

Yes, this had been a good host body.  The Morgarth reflected back upon the various host bodies he had since his Liege, Asmodeus, the Overlord of Hell, first sent him to this world.   Many of the most powerful warlords, high priests and arch-wizards had had the fortune of being chosen to share in the existence of The Morgarth.   Even the great Arch-Mage Mordenkainen himself served as a host body not very long ago, before the forced separation by the meddling Demigod Finder Wyvernspur.*    

The Morgarth hoped that his minions would find a worthy replacement soon, thinking "Perhaps a King this time, or better yet, another ranking High Priest of a lawful good religion, to corrupt it from the top and bring pain and disillusionment to all of the man's followers.   Well, who ever they find, it had best be soon.   This body will only last for another week or two." 


*_As detailed in Silver Moon's Story Hour titled "Chinese Take-out"._


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## Steverooo (Jul 7, 2003)

*Flumph!*

Looked, couldn't find "Chinese Take-Out"...


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## Silver Moon (Jul 7, 2003)

*Re: Flumph!*



			
				Steverooo said:
			
		

> *Looked, couldn't find "Chinese Take-Out"...   *



http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=28642

It's a bit long, but a fun read.


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## Steverooo (Jul 8, 2003)

*Contribute!*

Flumph!


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## ejja_1 (Jul 8, 2003)

*onward and downward*

Celina opened his backpack and put his bow inside, it magically seemed to disappear inside. He then pulled out a crossbow with a strange handle on it's base, it looked like a crank to a meat grinder. When done he pulled what looked like a bunch of bolts that had been secured together between two small wooden slats, and slapped them into a slot at the top. That done he pulled back a little wooden rod with a loud "click", and then checked the blade on his hip and made sure it would draw cleanly. 
Rix watched as Celina went through his small regimine, he had seen it a couple times before when they had been dungeon delving. Drakhar ignored them completely, lost in his own thoughts. Celina looked to Bri when he was done.
"So friend druidess, what form will you take for yon dungeon? I have clothes that would fit human or elf if you have need."


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## Silver Moon (Jul 11, 2003)

As they set up camp for the night Drakhar pondered about what had transpired that day.  "Rix always has kept to himself, but his current period of silence is a bit much.   He had spoken a mere dozen words since lunch, and only in response to comments from others.   It had to have something to do with that dagger we found. 

Drakhar remembered Rix's initial comment of "No, it can't be".    But when asked what he meant, he made a lame excuse about being surprised to see that specific type of dagger.  He said he had seen the type before, that it was a paladin's dagger with added force against evil.   "Bull," Drakhar thought, "It was that symbol that spooked him."    

Finn had cast a Speak with Dead spell on the body, discovering that the fallen knight was named Veringtorlux, and that he was slain by a being named Delgroth.  Further questioning revealed that Delgroth worked for Morgarth.   The final question that Finn was able to ask was 'Where can we find Morgarth', and the knight replied with "He has overcome my father."  What was that supposed to mean?  That was hardly a location.   We need more!"   But Finn's spell was over, so no more could be asked.  They had given the paladin a proper burial and moved on.  

Drakhar headed over to where Brieanna had sat down, going through her evening ritual of feeding her creatures.   Drakhar gave her an uncharacteristic smile, and pointing towards the eagle comments "He looks much stronger.  Ready to fly yet?"  "Another day or two," she answered, "No reason to rush it."     When the dwarf was close enough to the centaur to speak without being heard by the others he shared with her his suspicions that Rix was holding out on them.   She replies "I agree.  His face showed a shocked look the knight said Morgarth was with his father.   We've been patient enough, I want some answers."

Brieanna headed over to where Celina has begun a cooking fire, and called for the party to gather.    She looked directly at the rogue, and spoke "Rix, I can respect your desire for privacy with personal matters, but I suspect that your reaction to our finding the knight earlier today concerns all of us.  If you know more than you have told us thus far, please share it with us."  Her words were spoken in a firm voice, and her glare at him never wavered.  

After a long pause that seemed to some like an eternity he finally spoke.  "My full name in not Rix, it is Veringterix."  He holds the dagger out, stating "This is my family crest.  The knight Veringtorlux was my brother."    Finn is the first to break the silence that follows, stating "And Morgarth…."  Rix answers "My father's personality changed many years ago.  My brother thought that he was possessed by an evil being.  I never believed it.…until now."    Finn states "So if we find your father…"  "We find Morgarth" Rix replies. 

Another pause follows, and then Celina states "The prophecy was correct.  The verse from the dwarven ballad stated 'A stealthy master of much art, helps take obstacles apart, And is the key that ope's the way'…Rix, you've just provided us with the key to our quest."


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## Silver Moon (Jul 12, 2003)

*Meanwhile, some 200 miles away.....*

Kari was tired.  It had been a long life.  To her it seemed far longer than it had actually been.   She still had not reached forty years of age, although from her physical appearance one would guess far older.   "Give me that Pointy-ears" yelled the half-orcan child.   "I saw it first, Snout-nose" the half-elvan boy yelled back.   "Children, behave!" Kari screamed at the boys.   Both children came immediately to attention, and then stated in unison "We are behaving mother, we're behaving badly."   "Enough!  You boys will be the death of me yet," the woman replied.  She then instructed them "Put the saddlebags on the mule, we must be going."  

"Why are we always in such a hurry?" the half-elvan boy asked.   She patted him on his head, and stated "You've heard the story often enough Artiniel, we must fulfill your father's destiny.   He trusted us with the Crimson Orb, and we must bring it to the one of the prophesy."    "His father!  That's all you ever talk about!" the half-orc protested.  "My father was a god, your father was just an ugly fighter" Artiniel stated.   Kari corrected him, "No Art, he was not a god, he just lives with them.  And we owe our very lives to Grod's father, so do not be teasing your brother about him."  "Half-brother!" Artiniel protests.  "Enough," Kari admonishes the boys, "We do not wish to draw attention to ourselves by your yelling.   We had better get going.  According to the stars we are almost to the time of reckoning."  "Reckon-what?" Grod asks.  "Never mind, just come along," the woman replied.


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## Silver Moon (Jul 12, 2003)

Phrentharr was not overly fond of people.   Thankfully, life in the clouds precluded most contact with humanity.   Occasionally the pegasus riding Cloudriders would venture over for a visit if their cloud city happened to have drifted into the same area as Phrentharr's cloud island, but other than that he tended to avoid mankind whenever he could. 

This was not unusual for one of the Draco Cumulus Welkin race, known to the common men as the Cloud Dragons.   His race was among the largest, most powerful and most intelligent of all dragonkind.  Phrentharr liked to thank that avoiding of mankind was due to the superior intelligence, but deep down he knew it was partially due to cowardice.  His one attempt to help mankind, almost two centuries ago, nearly brought about his own demise.   

Phrentharr was not certain what had compelled him that day to try to save the human city from the devil and its minions, but it was a wasted effort.  At the time he was little more than a young adult, and lacked the power to take on such a foe.  He was lucky to have survived, far luckier than most of the residents of the city below.   Decades had then passed, and whenever Phrentharr sensed that his cloud island was nearing the devil's current location the cloud dragon used his powers to divert the island away.  He rationalized those actions for well over a century.  But he could do so no longer.  His powers began to peak, with a full arsenal of spells and the natural ability to manipulate weather.  "I have stayed away long enough" the solitary creature resolved.   "The next time I sense the devil's presence again I will act."  


**off-topic**

Going offline for a while.  Please pick up the story....


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## Steverooo (Jul 16, 2003)

*Flumph-bump!...*

...to an apparently-dead tale...


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## Silver Moon (Jul 20, 2003)

Bummer, I was enjoying this thread.  I'll ask a moderator to move it over to the "Story Hour" forum, which has a different readership and stays longer on the first post page.  Hopefully a few new contributors will join in.


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## Steverooo (Jul 22, 2003)

As the group settled down, Celina sat staring out at the darkness, thinking over the events of the last few days...  His grandparents had come into his dreams, the night before.  Their words were dire, so were the words of the Dwarven prophecy, carved into the stone of the abandonned city before most of their makeshift party had been born!  Both referred to deaths...

Whose?  Brieanna's?  "A Druid's quest will meet its end".  Was that what it had said?  Maybe... _his_ death?  He shivered, a little.  But his grandfather had said that they'd meet again...  He clung to that hope.

So who was going to die?  There wasn't anyone in the party he was anxious to get rid of...  Not even dour, glum old Drakhar!

And Gnorvald had taken off!  Just abandoned them!  He was always the one planning the route, and now he was gone, and Finn trying to lead them, although no one seemed to know where they were going!

It was enough to make a young Elf scream!

So who was it?  Who was going to die?  The thought kept coming back to him...  By the time the second watch rolled around, he had no more answers than when he'd started.  He was glad to get a few hour's trance.  This time, his "sleep" was undisturbed.

The next morning, Finn was up bright and earlier.  When Drakhar got up, he made the grumpy Dwarf show him how to use the two-handed sword.  He'd finally managed to learn to draw it from the scabbard without tripping over it, but now he needed to learn how to swing it!

Oh... you didn't swing it.  You held it, and moved the tip.  He practiced the one move Drakhar showed him, while the Dwarf made some sourdough flapjacks for breakfast.

All too soon, it was time to leave.  He took the roll of hot bread-like cakes the Dwarf handed him, and muched them as he slowly headed west.  The others quickly gathered their gear and followed him.  They were all unusually quiet, again, today.

Finn looked around him.  There was absolutely nothing to indicate which way to go.  The forest was behind them, now, they were in some low, scrubby hills.  He picked a path between them, heading for some scraggly woods in the distance.  At least they would provide shade!

He finished his pancakes, glancing behind him to make sure that the others were all there, but not too close, then he began to practice swinging the sword, again.  He looked about as he did, but still saw nothing among the scrubby hills to determine a path by.

Around noon, Drakhar stopped him.  "We need to stop for lunch." the Dwarf said.

"Okay, but show me another one of those moves," Finn answered.  The rest of the party spread out, Brieanna going to look for water as they saw the pair begin "playing with the sword", again.  Drakhar scowled.  It irritated him to have a sword that he couldn't touch involved in the "lessons".  He wanted to take it away from the skinny kid and show him what he was doing wrong.  Instead, he just had to explain it to the young man 40 times, or so!

Celina warmed some food and sat, looking around, then smiled as he watched the pair.  Drakhar's increasing annoyance was the most amusing thing he'd seen, in the last few days!  Bless the sword!

When Brieanna came back, everyone facing her put down their food, and stood up.  "I think you'd better come see this!" was all she said, then turned and galloped off.

She lead them down the side of a nearby hill, into the shade.  There, on the banks of a small stream she paused.

"Are these Goblin tracks?" she asked, pointing to the muddy banks.  Rix and Drakhar moved down to look, squatting on the bank.

"It could be..." ventured Rix.

"It is" said the Dwarf, "Or was.  Old, but I can't tell how long.  Brieanna, hold still.  If there's any more tracks, don't stomp on'em.  Rix, look around."  The Dwarf pointed upstream, then turned to go down.  Rix moved the opposite way, searching.  Returning a few minutes later, the two exchanged shakes of the head.

"Well, a few old tracks, but nothin' I kin follow," said Drakhar.  "Prob'ly means nuthin."

"I don't know," said Finn, "I think it means that we're on the right track!  Let's get our gear, and move on!"

They quickly did, and headed deeper into the hills surrounding the Badlands.  A few hours later and miles further, Finn stopped.  Brieanna was the first to notice.

"What is it, Finn?'

"More Goblins?" he guessed, stooping to examine the ground.  Drakhar hurried up, as Rix turned a slow circle, staring at the woods and scrub.

"Yup", confirmed the old Dwarf.  "Gobblers.  Old and dry.  Too old to tell how old."  Finn smiled.

"We're on the right track, then!''  He turned and headed off.

"We'd better watch where we make camp tonight, too!" muttered Celina.  That turned out not to be a problem, though...

After about 45 minutes (and three miles) of walking, goblin tracks were found.  More than one set, and plain to see.  These lead to a dim trail.  By this point, everyone had drawn weapons, and was warily on guard.  Finn motioned for a halt, then for Rix to move up and join him.  Celina took his place in the rear, with Brie.

"You scout ahead!" Finn told the older man.  "We'll wait here, and try not to clank!"  Rix smiled, and headed off.  He was back all too soon.

"It's odd." he said, in a normal tone of voice.  He motioned for them to follow, then lead them around a few turns, to where the trail ended.

It ended in a solid wall of woodsy plants... yet the Goblin tracks lead right into it.  Rix motioned towards it with his longsword.

"It's solid.  Watch this!"  Thrusting forward, he stabbed at the tangled underbrush with his sword.  It went in about two feet before being stopped by the choking plant matter.  Grunting, he drew it back.  Finn and Drakhar moved up to examine the woods.  They couldn't see far into it.

"Well, we could hack our way through it, but that's a lotta cuttin'..." mused the Dwarf.

"Then how did the Goblins get through?" asked Rix.  "Surely these tracks aren't so old that the plants have all grown up since they were made?"

"_Plant Growth_?" said Drakhar.

"Well, there's no way I can get through this tangle!" said Celina, looking at the mass of underbrush.

"I can!" said Brie.

[Edit: Typos!]


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## Steverooo (Jul 22, 2003)

**break in story**

The current cast of characters appears to be 

Drakhar Lutgher, male Dwarf Barbarian/Fighter
Celina Silvanis, male Elven Bard
Finn, male Human Cleric of Pelor (headed towards Paladin)
Gnorvald, male ? disguised as a Gnome Illusionist(?)
Verignterix (Rix), male Human Rogue
Brieanna, female Centaur Druidess
Sedge, polymorphed Wizard (currently in horse form)

plus Skiggles, Brieanna's dog; and possibly Thrindor, her eagle; a 10' tall brown (Kodiak?) bear; six fieldmice; and six baby otters.

Also, Eredave (an Elven Ranger with Dangersense) and a contingent of General Landir's troops, including Elebane and some Arcane Archers, originally introduced as a Deus Ex Machina to rescue the adventurers from Morgarth's Beastmen via cavalry charge... before Tom negated the need by making them illusory!

Kari, a Human(?) Woman, and bearer of the mysterious Crimson Orb, which may be the ancient artifact Celina's ancestors promised him.
Artiniel, a Male Half-elven child.
Grod, a Male Half-Orc half-brother to Artiniel.

Phrentharr, Male Draco Cumulus Welkin (Cloud Dragon), who may be the danger Eredave senses.


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