# Spike and Moe's Faerun Story Hour



## Moe Ronalds (Apr 30, 2004)

My friend Andrew (Spike on the boards) is currently running us through a D&D game in the Forgotten Realms that has been quite good so far. We've been playing it off and on for about a year now, but we've lost so many of the original players that we're just going to start this from where we are now. The only two original characters are Avellios (an elven swashbuckler) and Torchia (a human monk). They've also recently paired up with Chalsenta, a human transmuter and she and Torchia have had a bit of romance going on between them. Torchia and Avellios have gone through The Sunless Citadel, and even helped "redeem" the Kobolds there, making Meepo leader and exposing them all to the more positive deities (Sune, Helm and others).

That being typed, let the story commence.


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## Moe Ronalds (Apr 30, 2004)

Avellios, Torchia, and Chelsenta had been hiking for several hours when they finally decided to set up camp. They had been on their way to the Silver Marches and had arrived at the Great Forest around noon that day. Or maybe they were in the Grand Wood, or the Really Really Big Place With Lots of Trees- Avellios wasn’t entirely sure, geography had never been his strong point. 

	Avellios was an elf of medium tall height. He was clean shaven, and had long curly black hair and fair skin. He dressed typically in loose fitting, breezy clothing but at the moment he had to be ready for danger to strike at any moment- thus he wore his armor and weapons where they’d be easily accessible. 

	His companion Torchia, a powerfully built and completely bald man in flowing green robes, spoke up to him as he was about to set down his belongings to rest at the camp. “Avellios, why don’t you go make sure there isn’t anything lurking about camp?”

	“Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.” Chelsenta added. Chelsenta was a young, attractive woman with wavy brown hair. She wore a pair of spectacles and had a tool belt with various magical trinkets around her waist- as well as Torchia’s arm.

	“Are you sure that’s entirely wise? I know next to nothing about the woods and sending me off on my own might be-“

	“Oh nonsense! A smart person like you? Torchia and I will just stay behind here until you come back.”

	“I’m serious! I’d like to, but anything involving a forest really isn’t my strong suit.“ Avellios pleaded.

	“But… You’re an elf. The woods are what you do.” Chelsenta remarked.

	“I’m… I’m just not THAT kind of elf, all right?”

	“Nonetheless, We’re sure you can handle yourself Avellios. The two of us have full confidence in your abilities. Chelsenta and I will set up camp, so why don’t you go off for about three-“

	“Four!” Chelsenta piped, interrupting Torchia.

	“-four hours, and when you get back, we can all get some rest.” Torchia finished.

	Avellios’s eyes perked up with sudden realization. “Right. Well. I guess I’ll be on my way then.” Avellios placed his cap on his head, and began to investigate the woods.

	“See you in five hours!” Torchia called after him.


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## Moe Ronalds (Apr 30, 2004)

Avellios sighed, checking the stars. He had only been out for a few minutes, and already it was getting tedious. Oh how he longed for a tracker, they spent so much time in the woods one would be invaluable. Even a priest would be able to commune with his god to find his way about. Lacking either, Avellios slumped against a tree, about to light his pipe, when he noticed small, fresh footprints in the mud. They appeared to be humanoid, and whoever made them wasn’t wearing shoes. It was quite apparent from the size that whoever walked this stretch of land did so recently, and was likely quite young.

	Avellios was immediately worried- in a forest as large as this, any child would likely be in danger. Avellios set off, nose close to the ground, following the prints. He wasn’t entirely how far he went before he came upon a small mound made of dirt and discarded wood. Curiously enough, it had a small hole inside it.

	Of course, Avellios did what any suitably curious adventurer would do if he was looking for something. He stuck his head inside the hole, and cried out. “Hello! Is anybody in here?” 
As the earth and tree roots surrounding him began to wrap themselves around his arms and limbs, he realized that he had made a significant mistake. Heart filled with fear, he glanced down at his rapier- kept agonizing inches out of reach. 

As he mulled over his options, a small creature stepped before him seemingly out of nowhere. He looked human, but he was only three feet high. He resembled a gnome, though his features were smoother and less chiseled. His hair, including a small pointed goatee, was a rich green shade. He wore brown slacks, to which a wicked looking scimitar was strapped. On his back lay a gratuitously large rice hat and three spears of varying lengths. Around his neck lay a line of teeth. 

“Good sir!” Avellios began, “would you kindly do me the favor of-“

The small men held up a hand, his expression sour. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Well, it seems as though it kind of swallowed me, to be blunt.” Avellios replied dryly. 

The small man frowned. He lowered his hand quickly, and the land around Avellios melted back into place. Avellios stepped out, stretching the crick out of his neck. This guy was moody, but he was damn good… Avellios had an idea.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He inquired.

“Bebog… Why are you still here?” The man named Bebog replied.

“Well… To be honest, I have a bit of a proposition for you Mr. Bebog.”
Bebog’s expression, miraculously, managed to make itself even more sour.
“I am a member of a group of… Vagabonds. We work for adventure, gold, excitement, triumphing over evil, etcetera. And, well, at the moment we require a uh… Well, what do you like to be called? Priest, Druid?”

“Hermit.” He answered gruffly. “And you want me to leave my home, to go adventuring?”

“Well… Yes. But before you say no, consider this; no matter how secluded, a forest can still be awful noisy- other druids, animals-“

“Wandering elves.”

“-and other things. Adventuring, however, is almost synonymous with spelunking. Spelunking in deep, quiet, calm dungeons with no one there except for three other individuals, all completely silent so as not to draw the attention of the dark necromancer who may very literally have ears in the walls.” Avellios finished seductively. 

Bebog’s ears twitched and his eyes grew wide. “Alright, great idea. Let’s just go.”

“Don’t you want to gather up your stuff fir-“

“No. Go. NOW! Before it’s too late!” Bebog said urgently.

“I’m not entirely sure I-“ Avellios was interrupted by a huge crashing noise in the trees behind him. From the noise, he distinctively heard a boisterous, slightly stupid sounding voice ring out. 

“HEEEEEEEYYYY BEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Avellios spun around, and whipped out his rapier, standing on the balls of his feet with his eyes darting from side to side. “The source of the noise… do we kill it?” He inquired. A dark spot appeared on the horizon. “I asked DO WE KILL IT!?!?!?” 

“I’m thinking I’m thinking!” Bebog snapped. He sighed “No, I guess we shouldn’t. I know him, a bit. He’s more or less harmless. Annoying, but harmless.”

Avellios nodded as a golden-skinned Elvin man burst from the woods, his silver hair flowing behind him in the wind. His eyes were completely silver, and he held a long lance in his hands. He wore animal hide, but it was immaculately kept despite its inherent rustic nature. He rode atop a very furry horse, with a wild look in its eye though it was also well groomed. The man had a somewhat dull look on his face, despite his well groomedness, although he also appeared to be screaming loudly. He cried out “HEY BEEEE! A LITTLE HELP!?!?”, and the small druid sighed.

“What could he wan-“ The tiny hermit gasped in shock. The ground beneath him began to tremble, and he heard a loud crack as a terrible creature burst from the trees. It was a large creature, about 10 feet tall. It looked like a dead, mobile tree though it had a wicked looking face carved into it. Riding atop it was a leather-clad woman, with red hair wielding a rusted glaive. 

“You don’t happen to know that thing as well, do you?” Avellios asked nervously.

“No. There is no way in a million life times that I know that thing.” Bebog shuddered.

Avellios nodded, taking a moment to secure the ring on his finger. “That’s all I needed to know.” Translucent blue smoke swirled about his feet, before he took a massive running jump, landing right amid the branches of the dead tree, also cleanly piercing the woman’s flesh below her shoulder. 
It was now that Avellios got a good look at the tree, seeing its thick, somewhat fleshy gray bark, as well as the hot, tar-like sap that spilled from it and the fruit which hung like sacks of flesh from its twisted, gnarled branches.
The woman was about a head shorter than Avellios, and her back was humped. Patches of her skin was gray with rot and death, and her hair was stringy. She had rotted teeth from which green saliva dripped, and her wound was currently bleeding dark purple blood. 

The moment Avellios landed, Bebog set his hat in front of him like a shield and tossed one of his spears at the tree, sticking it and causing sap to geyser out of the wound.

The man riding the horse turned around at this point, to face his foe. He hoisted up his finely crafted lance, and charged forward, piercing the exterior of the tree. He ran it almost completely through, ripping its rotted bark and enticing it to let out a foul, bloody screech. 

Now it was the turn of the wicked sorceress and her steed. She swung her blade, though Avellios easily deflected it. The tree attempted to smash the hapless elf, but succeeded only in clawing its own head. Avellios turned to the woman now, holding his blade forward. “Now, either surrender or-“ At this moment, Bebog sent a javelin literally through the woman’s neck, and she fell to the ground. “-Perish…” Avellios finished, a little disappointed.

As the tree swung at the horse riding sun elf, the sun elf responded with a slash from a glowing long sword. Avellios took this opportunity to swing his blade overhead, and stab the tree square down in the head. Avellios leapt down, as the tree toppled forward- thoroughly dead.

Avellios turned to the sun elf, and whipped off his sword. He tipped his hat, and bowed. “Excellent fighting there good sir! My name is Avellios Moonwhisper, you would be…?”

“A nuisance.” Bebog muttered. 

“Well howdy! My name’s Cri!” The sun elf replied. 

“Well then, would you be interested in joining our-“

“There is absolutely no way-“ Bebog began. He was interrupted, however, by several moments of shock and chaos. Bebog let out an unearthly shriek, as what they thought was a corpse leapt up at him, fingernails digging into his throat, and she delivered a single kiss. Bebog swatted her away, and decapitated her with his scimitar, before doubling over. His skin was pallid and greenish, and his hair was starting to shed. He looked up at Cri and Avellios, before letting out a heave of vomit.

Avellios turned to Cri. “Little guy gets more action than I do. Do you know anything we can do?”

Cri nodded. “I know of a Dryad in the northern woods. I can take him there on my horse.”

Avellios nodded. “I’ll try and follow in the trees if I ca-“

Bebog let out a hoarse, bloody cough. “I’m going with the elf.”

Avellios looked on dumbly. “Are you jo-“

“There is no way in hell you’ll get me to ride with THAT oaf.”

Cri sighed. “I’ll ride ahead then and tell Phelia you’re coming. Just go north.” With that, he leapt upon his horse and rode off.

Avellios hoisted up the small man and held him securely on his back. He got a running start, before bounding forward atop the trees. He was leaping as fast as he could, knowing full well that if he didn’t hit the right branches, if he didn’t jump fast enough, he and his cargo may both very well die.


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## Moe Ronalds (Apr 30, 2004)

When Cri arrived in the Dryad’s grove, he leapt off his horse and gave her a wave. “Well howdy there Phelia!”

Phelia’s eyes perked up with surprise at the blundering oaf entering her abode. “…Hello, Cri.” She said, her voice dripping with exasperation. “What brings you he-” Her eyes grew wide. “I… I sense a disturbance in the forrest. Like a single voice crying out in pain.”

“It’s Bebog. He’s sick. Really sick.” Cri said, now serious. Just as he was saying this, Avellios burst from the trees, panting heavily. He pulled his cargo off of his back, and laid him against a tree quickly. Phelia immediately rushed to Bebog, and demanded an explanation.

“We were in the woods when we were attacked by what appeared to be a woman riding a mobile, dead tree.” Avellios said between breaths. “She seemed to have some sort of magical hold over it. We thought she was dead, but then she embraced him and, well, he ended up like this.”

Phelia nodded gravely, before ripping a leaf off the tree and wiping some sap on it. She then rubbed it over an anthill in the dirt, and placed it over where Bebog had been kissed. Bebog groggily stood up, a little bit of his color already returning.

“The ants will eat away at the tainted flesh after a tenday or so. The sap will adhere it to his skin in that time.” She stood. “I’d like to thank both of you. If you both hadn’t made your way here in time, he would have either died or… become like the one who cursed him.”

Avellios nodded, before giving a bow and a smile. “Madam Phelia, my name is Avellios Moonwhisper and I would like to thank you a great deal for healing our poor friend. If there is anything we can do-“

Phelia smiled. “Thank you for the kind words, but I require no payment. I merely hope that you will make sure Bebog keeps that remedy on for the full tenday- he’s liable to want it off after two hours… I am glad to have met you, sir Avellios. I hope your band will not feel unwelcome in my grove.”

Avellios bowed again, before hoisting up Bebog. “Speaking of which, the three of us had best get going.”

“Oh, this is going to be great!” Cri piped up enthusiastically. “Adventure, excitement! Oo! Can we fight a giant scorpion? I hear they’re nasty…”


FIN


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