# The Sylvatic Erudians (Kalamar)



## Wicht (Oct 9, 2003)

*Prologue*
*1.*
The village of Oakheart, situated as it was in the northern spur of the great elven forest of Lendelwood, was of course, primarily inhabited by elves.  Like many elven communities, it was a place simultaneously filled with rustic charm and steeped in erudite learning.  The rustic charm was largely due to the fact that many of it’s inhabitants, actually most of them, were wood-elves, rustics by nature, in love with the great outdoors and almost everything in it.  The learning and knowledge came primarily in the form of one Tamilthim Redimolvan, a noted wizard-historian and the proprietor of a combination library-museum.  This museum was mildly famous and it often attracted elvish scholars from Lathlanian, Cosdol, and other distant parts.  It was not unheard of for visitors from even as far away as the Edosi Forest to make the trek across the continent to study upon some text or artifact residing within the halls of Tamilthim’s Collection.  In addition to these prestigious scholars, young elves were frequently sent to study at the feet of the great enchanter and any given decade it was a sure bet that one could find several new wizards being trained in Oakheart.

The name Oakheart (rendered as it is in the Merchant Tongue) came from the vast Oak-tree which was centered in a glade in the middle of the wooded village.  The Oak, as it was referred to, was actually a dryad-oak and the Dryad, a Druid in the service of Valanna, the Bear, served as a combination judge and spiritual leader.  In addition to the frequent veneration given to the Bear, the elves of Oakheart, who were devout, also worshiped the Great Huntress, Albabrilia, and The Eternal Bard, Banadar.

South of The Oak, in a copse of small trees was the market, a collection of small tents and booths at which foresters could sell and trade those things they needed or had acquired.  Here also, merchants bound for Lathlanian collected goods for sell in the larger city.  North of The Oak were the more permanent businesses.  Dustanar Elmleaf operated a strange place from which he sold both bows and handcarved furniture.  Just north-east from him and almost directly north of The Oak was Mardigum Hadrak’s forge.  The forge had the dubious distinction of being the only building in town not surrounded by trees and it’s proprietor had the dubious distinction of being the only dwarf in the village.  Mardigum had traveled west from the mountains and upon noticing that Oakheart lacked a smith, had set up shop.  The elves tolerated his dwarfish attitudes and recognized that he did quality work, which was all they asked for.  West of Hadrak’s forge was The Common Store, which carried things not frequently found in the market and which was also opened during the winter months.  Just West of the Common Store was an Inn, the name of which, when translated into the Merchant tongue, was “The Thirsty Stag.”  West of The Stag was The Museum.  The actual name for The Museum was Redimolvan’s Collection of Antiquities, Curiosities and Scholarly Texts (literally Dinamorila Donimalria ji Feinlalaritomallio Ujikamallara Do’Redimolvan) but everybody, including Redimolvan, simply referred to it as The Museum (U’Kamallara).  A stone path led north from The Museum, up a small hill and all the way to Tamilthim Redimolvan’s front door. 

Redimolvan lived in a striking tower of natural symmetry.  The actual Tower, whose top was higher than the many surrounding trees, was not a solitary structure but instead arose out of a one-story set of apartments and rooms.  When he was not puttering around in The Museum or teaching students on the lawn outside the tower, Redimolvan could normally be found high in his tower, researching.  Which, in point of fact, is where he was when our story opens.  

Why, you ask, was that where he was?  Because a story has to start someplace and ours has chosen to begin itself at a time when Redimolvan was researching a particularly frustrating spell problem in the laboratory atop his tower.

Redimolvan was normally a pleasant elf of advancing years.  But his on this particular morning his temper had partially got the better of him.  Thirteen batches of spell ingredients in a row had failed to produce a desired effect.  What he needed was honey.

“I need Honey!” shouted Tamilthim at his two apprentices.  His voice, normally a pleasant and melodious thing, albeit slightly scratchy with age, was wheezy with frustration.  “GIANT BEE HONEY! to be precise,” he said, trying to get a grip on his frustration, “And I want you two to go get it for me.” (actually he was speaking in the High Elven language but it would be tedious to transcribe and then translate it verbatim so we will assume you understand he is not actually speaking the Merchant tongue)

“Us?!” said Bare in surprise, “Why Us?”

It might do to pause a moment and examine the two objects upon whom the ancient wizard was venting his frustration.  Bare Wancalein was a wiry elf with unruly jet black hair and bright green eyes.  At the tender but almost mature age of one hundred thirty six, he was likely never to grow much taller than four foot eight inches, but there was a surliness to his character that lent him a certain weight and presence.  Despite his slightly off-setting manner, Bare was a pleasant enough young lad who besides having a fascination with magic, was also, like his wood-elf neighbors, a sylvian native.  

His companion in both mischief and scholarly pursuits, Hullifan Tarrinall, had both four years and four inches on Bare.  Hullifan was a slightly more amiable character than Bare.  He was also far less at home in the wild, preferring the comforts of his native City Lathlanian.  Despite this and other differences, the two students got on well together and had several common interest, archery and magic among them.  

Enough about them for now, let us return to the ensuing dialogue.

“Because,” snapped Redimolvan irritably, “You two are my students and you are going to do as I say.  I need the honey of a Giant bee in order for me to complete my research and you two are not going to get a moment’s rest until I get it!”

“Where do we find Giant Bee Honey?” asked Hullifan.  

“In the woods.  I am sure there are some giant bees out there someplace.”

“And how do we find these giant bees?” asked Bare.

“I don’t know!  You are the one who’s always talking about tracking and hunting and the trees.  Track them down!”  The old wizard paused and once more tried to calm his nerves.  He continued more serenely, “Try asking at The Stag.  Likely one of the hunters drinking in there might know where you can find some.”

“Here,” said Redimolvan shoving a large glass jar at them, “Now get out of here and don’t come back until it’s full.  And no ordinary honey either – don’t think I won’t know the difference.” 

With a sigh the two young elves allowed themselves to be shooed from the study and trudged to their rooms to start gathering some things for their journey.


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## Wicht (Oct 9, 2003)

*Bare Wancalein, Male High Elf Rgr1:*  CR 1; HD 1d8+2; hp 10; AC 16 (leather); Init +4; ATK +2 melee  (1d6+1 rapier) or +5 ranged (1d8 longbow); SQ Ranger Abilities; SV For +4, Ref +6, Will +3; ALI NG; Str 13, Dex 19, Con 15, Int 15, Wis 16, Cha 9.
...*Skills and Feats*:  Craft (Bows) +6, Handle Animal +3, Hide +8, Knowledge (Nature) +6, Listen +9, Move Silently +8, Search +8, Spot +9, Survival +7; Track, Wild Empathy, Favored Terrain (forest).

_Bare is an elf in love with the forest.  The trees, the animals, they all beckon to him and invite him to play.  He is also fascinated with magic and hopes to one day be a powerful wizard._

**************************

*Hullifan Tarrinall, Male High Elf Brd1:* CR 1; HD 1d6; hp 6; AC 14 (leather); Init +2; Atk +1 melee (1d8+1 longsword) or +2 ranged (1d6 short bow); SQ Bard Abilities; SV Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +3; AL NG; Str 13, Dex 15, Con 11, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 14.
...*Skills and Feats:* Appraise +5, Craft (musical instruments) +3, Decipher Script +6, Escape Artist +4, Gather Information +6, Hide +4, Jump +3, Knowledge (Arcana) +6, Listen +3, Perform +4, Search +4, Spellcraft +6, Spot +3, Use Magical Device +5; Combat Casting.

_Hullifan is driven by a love for ancient things, particularly those things magical.  He hopes with the proper training to one day be a renowned Arcanologist.  Until then he is devoted to his studies._


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## Wicht (Oct 9, 2003)

*2.*
As luck would have it, there was indeed someone in the Thirsty Stag who has recently seen some Giant Bee’s in the forest.  He was a wood-elf hunter and he was very helpful, even drawing them a rough sketch of the direction.

“North-East, towards the river,” said the hunter, “I came across a couple of them the other day.  Perhaps a day’s journey from here, just south of the river.”

“Thanks,” said Hullifan.  Bare grunted in agreement.

“No problem,” said the hunter, “but you two be careful out there.  I’ve also seen some signs of goblins lately, come down from the mountains no doubt.”

“We will,” said Hullifan.

Properly cautioned, the two young adventurers set off in a generally northwesterly direction.  Bare was, despite his youth, a skilled enough woodsman that he led them in a generally straight line in the direction they needed to go.  They traveled steadily and surely, the hours and the miles slowly passing behind them.  The signs of wood-life was everywhere and the day was pleasant.

It was about four hours out of Oakheart that they saw the tracks.  Both of them, sharp-eyed elves that they were, spotted them at the same time.  Rough, heavy shod, but small footprints, were clearly evident in the soft forest earth.  

“What are they?” asked Hullifan.

“Goblins,” said Bare with certainty as he pushed aside some of the decaying foliage on the ground and looked closer, “perhaps four of them.”

They stared at the footprints for a moment wondering.

“I say we keep going and just get the honey.” Said Hullifan.

“Come on,” said Bare, “We gotta follow these, just for a little while and see where they go.  We don’t have to do anything.  Just follow them.”

With a sigh Hullifan gave in and so the two left off going north-west and instead started following the goblin tracks east.  Bare easily followed the trail.  The goblins, it appeared, had been none too careful about hiding their passage.

About thirty minutes later the two elves heard rough high pitched voices ahead through the trees.  

“Goblins,” whispered Bare to Hullifan, “I recognize the language.  Let’s go quietly forward.”  Hullifan nodded and the two drew out their bows and then proceeded stealthily ahead.

“Stinking elves,” hissed one of the goblins (in the goblin tongue of course, but Bare understood him and so we will as well), “We ain’t seen no smelly elves and we ain’t goin’ to I’ll bet.  Not that I want to.”  

“Scared are ya, Nekrit,.  We’ll be fine I tell ya, just to the river and then back.  We ain’t gonna fight them, just snoop them out a bit.”

About that time Bare and Hullifan had crept close enough that they could make out four goblins, camped around a small fire cooking two rabbits.  The goblins were each armed with a bow and a short sword.  They were dressed in dirty leather armor.  The spot the goblins had camped in was heavily shaded and damp and cool.  

“Let’s shoot them,” said Bare softly, “you go that way a little and I will stay here.”

Hullifan nodded and started to creep to his right.  He did not get far. One of the goblins lifted up his head.  

“What was that?” he croaked.  

Without hesitation, Bare fired.  He knew all about goblins and he knew just where to hit them.  The arrow flew true and straight and with a croak the goblin that had spoken jerked up and then collapsed to the ground.  Hullifan’s shot was only a second behind Bare’s but his aim was not as sure.  The arrow grazed one of the goblins, but it was far from a fatal wound.  In an instant the three goblins were on their feet, bows drawn.  Their beady red eyes had no trouble seeing the two elves through the trees.  

Bare’s second arrow landed in the goblin Hullifan had injured.  The goblin was propelled backwards and landed twitching slightly on the ground.  A goblin arrow flew past Bare, just missing.  The other goblin’s aim was better and an arrow sliced open Hullifan’s thigh.  The injury threw Hullifan’s aim off and his arrow flew wide.

Bare fired a third time and again a goblin fell to the ground.  Another arrow, poorly aimed, flew past Bare.  Hullifan fired again and then Bare fired his fourth arrow.  Both arrows landed in the last goblin and with a croak and a sigh the he fell upon the earth, his life blood draining away.

The two elves moved cautiously forward and then, convinced the goblins were truly dead, they searched the bodies.  There was dried and rancid food stuff in packs on the bodies but the elves did not touch that.  They did remove the short swords and the bows, noting that the arrows the goblins had been carrying were of passable quality and fit to fire from their own weapons.  Then, stamping out the fire, the two elves left the goblin bodies to rot upon the ground, food for whatever scavenger happened upon them.


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## Wicht (Oct 10, 2003)

*3.*
They traveled until nightfall and then decided to make camp and rest a while before continuing on in the morning.  It was Hullifan who suggested that it might be safer up in one of the trees and Bare was amiable to the idea.  So after a brief meal, followed by a bit of candy that Hullifan had bought just before leaving Oakheart, the two climbed up a tree to rest.  The tree they had chosen was tall, with wide branches and it was fairly easy for them to find suitable places in which to rest.  After a bit of discussion it was decided that Hullifan would keep a watch while Bare rested and then they would trade off.  

As Hullifan kept alert below for signs of danger, Bare closed his eyes.  Like all elves everywhere, Bare did not sleep so much as he meditated.  The hours began to pass.  Around the elves the sound of nightime activity filled the air, from the squeaking of forest bats to the scampering of small rodents.

It was about two hours into Hullifan’s watch when he heard a sound on the forest floor which drew his attention.  It was not the sound of some small creature but neither was it a heavy footstep.  Curious he looked below.  The stars were bright enough for him to make out the clear form of a giant ant.  It was roughly four feet long and it was in the process of investigating the few crumbs the elves had left from their meal.  Uncertain what to do, Hullifan decided to wake up Bare.

“Bare,” whispered Hullifan, leaning over and nudging the other elf who was on a branch across the trunk from him.

“Huh,” said Bare, his eyes flying open.  

“There’s a giant ant on the forest floor.”

The other elf turned his eyes downward where twenty feet below him the giant insect was beginning to sniff the trunk.

“Should I shoot it,” said Hullifan, drawing out his bow.

“Let’s just throw it some food,” suggested Bare, reaching into his pack.

“I think we should shoot it.”

But Bare had already pulled out a chunk of bread and had tossed it down.  The bread landed on the ground and immediately the ant’s antennae twitched.  The insect scurried with some haste to the proffered food and grabbing it eagerly it turned and headed back into the undergrowth.

“See,” said Bare with some satisfaction as he settled himself back onto the branch and once more closed his eyes.

About thirty minutes later three more of the giant insects arrived, their antennae sniffing around the ground below the tree.  Once more Hullifan woke up Bare.  

“And why are they here?” asked Hullifan with a wry face.

“Likely because I fed the last one,” said Bare disgruntled, “I should have known better.”

“Well, lets just shoot them,” said Hullifan drawing an arrow and nocking it on his bow-string.

Before Bare could stop him Hullifan had fired.  Unfortunately his arrow, while it did strike one of the ants, was not fired with either enough strength or enough directness to penetrate the ants hard shell.  The arrow head ricocheted off the ants carapace.  The ant’s antennae twitched angrily and the ant looked around, its eyes finally settling on the two elves in the tree.  The ant moved quickly towards the tree trunk and then proceeded to climb straight up towards the elves.

“Uh-oh,” said Hullifan and fired again.  Again the arrow bounced harmlessly off the hard hide of the ant.  Bare fired one arrow, which did no more than Hullifan’s had and then, laying aside his bow he quickly drew his rapier.  Hullifan realizing the wisdom of Bare’s actions also drew the longsword that hung at his side.  

In seconds the ant was high enough up the tree to reach them.  It was moving towards Bare.  Bare grabbed an overhanging branch with one hand for support and swung at the giant insect with the other.  The ant ignored the ineffectual blow and bit the elf.  Its sharp pincers tore through the elf’s breeches and drew blood.  Angrily Bare tried to kick it away.  And then Hullifan’s sword bounced off the ant’s hide.

Below Hullifan could see that a second ant had started to climb the tree.  As Bare and the first ant paried back and forth, each looking for an opening, Hullifan focused and then swung as hard as he could at that portion of the ant’s anatomy where its head met its torso.  His aim was sure and the ant’s head flew away from its body.  The ant’s feet jerked spasmodically and the heavy insect’s body crashed down through the branches, narrowly missing the other climbing ant.  It landed with a soft thud on the earth below.  As the second ant reached the branch upon which Bare was standing, Bare who had collected himself, rammed his rapier’s point straight ahead into the center of the ant’s hard head.  There was a cracking sound as the metal pierced the carapace and in an instant life fled from the ant’s body and gravity reached up to grab it.

The third ant scuttled aside as the second ant’s body crashed into the ground and then it too with all the intelligence of its kind, started to single-mindedly climb the tree.  The elves, realizing they would have little time to prepare their bows decided to instead wait with swords drawn.  

Again, the ant headed for the branch upon which Bare was standing.  Bare tried to repeat his stab which had so successfully dispatched the previous insect, but the ant moved its head aside too quickly and the blade slid harmlessly off the hard black head.  The ant snapped savagely at Bare but the elf, using the branch to which he was clinging as leverage skipped easily out of the way.  The ant did not get a chance for a second strike for once more Hullifan’s stroke was sure and true and the ant’s head was cleft cleanly from its body.

Unfortunately, even as the now dead ant started to fall from its perch, Hullifans foot slipped on the branch upon which he stood and he plunged forward.  He grasped desperately at the trunk but he lacked the strength to stop his fall.  He plummeted down about five feet and then tried to grab onto a passing branch.  His fingers closed successfully around the branch but such was his momentum that it offered only a momentary respite from falling.  His fingers slipped and his body spun further down.  About ten feet from the ground now he grasped at one final branch.  Grabbing it, his arms and torso jerked to a sudden stop as his legs continued to swing violently toward the earth.   And then again his fingers could not hold and he flipped down to the ground backwards.  His head struck the ground and he lay at the foot of the tree unmoving.


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## Wicht (Oct 11, 2003)

*4.*
Bare scooted smoothly down and out of the tree and examined his unconscious companion.  There were no signs of bleeding from the fall and Hullifan’s breathing continued smoothly.  Finding no injuries to treat Bare considered his options.  After a moment of thought he hefted Hullifan’s body over his shoulder and then staggered away from the tree.  He reasoned that more ants might investigate and it would be better to be elsewhere.  He chose a small hollow about 100 yards from their original camping sight and gently lowered Hullifan’s body to the ground.  Then he settled himself down to keep watch.  

As morning broke Hullifan returned to consciousness.  He had a headache and his shoulders and neck were sore, but other than that he seemed fine.  They decided to ignore their few injuries and continue to search for their master’s desired honey.  The alternative, namely facing an irate Tamilthim Redimolvan, did not seem like much of an option.

The gentle weather of the previous day continued and the walk was pleasant.  They chatted softly of this and that as they journeyed and generally enjoyed themselves.  Which was probably why they did not hear the giant bee until they were almost on top of it.  They entered into a small clearing filled with large flowers and there it was, about five feet long and making a terrific buzzing noise as it flitted around the meadow, apparently examining the smell of the flowers.  The giant bee took no notice of the two elves as it continued from flower to flower.  The flowers were each about a foot wide but they were still rather dwarfed by the enormous flying insect.  

The two elves stood for a moment, thoughts rushing through their heads.  Hullifan started to draw out his bow.

“Don’t…,” began Bare, but his warning was unnecessary.  The Bee had already taken flight, heading almost straight north at a speed that was too fast for the elves to realistically expect to keep up with.

“What should we do?”  asked Hullifan.

“Follow it,” said Bare as he started walking north, “It’s probably going towards its hive.”

Bare led them due north, following the bee’s trajectory.  Whether by luck or skill, he led them straight to where they wanted to go.  The two elves heard the bees long before they saw them.  The sound of a small bee can often be quite loud, but there was no missing the tumultuous humming of the hive of giant bees.  

The elves crested a small rise and saw a bowl in the earth in front of them.  The sides of the depression were about ten feet deep and fairly steep.  In the middle of the bowl, was a huge, apparently hollow, tree trunk.  It had a diameter of about twenty feet and it’s highest point was some twenty feet above the lip of the depression.  There were no holes in the side of the trunk to be seen, but it was evident that giant bees were flying in and out of the top.  There was no other vegetation in the bowl other than grass and a few scraggly bushes and so the elves spotted the holes in the ground with ease.  There were about five of them that the two elves could see, scattered around the base of the tree trunk.  The diameter of each hole was about three or four feet and upon occasion one of the bees would crawl in or out of the earth instead of flying into or out of the tree trunk.  

“Now what,” said Bare as he gazed over the scene.  He could count at least ten bees at any given time and it was likely there were more than that, with others either away or in the hive somewhere.  Attacking all of them was clearly futile.  At the moment the bees seemed unconcerned about the two elves, but aggression on the elves’ part would likely change that.  The two elves began wondering about methods of entering the hive without fighting every single bee.

“We could put them to sleep with smoke,” suggested Hullifan.  Bare failed to show any surprise at Hullifan knowing that minor bit of bee lore.

“It would take an awful lot of smoke, they are pretty big bees and that’s a pretty big hive” said Bare, “What do have?”

“We have a jar of oil,” said Hullifan, “I bought it just for making smoke.”  

They looked a moment at the single jar of oil that Hullifan produced from his backpack and then looked over at the immense trunk.  Hullifan wordlessly put the oil back into his pack and the two elves sank back into contemplation.

“I could cast dancing lights around the trunk,” suggested Hullifan after a bit.  But neither elf could think of any benefit to be gained from doing so.

“How about a ghost sound, imitating lots of bees?” asked Hullifan a moment later.

“Could you imitate lots of bees?” asked Bare curiously.

Hullifan considered it and listened closely to the sound of the bees for a moment.

“Probably could match one of them,” he admitted.

“Go ahead,” said Bare, wanting to see what such a sound would do to the bees.

Hullifan concentrated for a moment and then with a word and a wave of his hand he caused a bee-like hum to erupt out of some bushes about thirty feet further along the edge of the bowl.   One of the giant bees left off its activities for a moment and flew in to investigate the noise.  It hovered over the bushes from which the sound had emanated for a second or two and then flying low, the bee passed by the head of the two elves and proceeded to return to its original chore of flying around the top of the giant tree trunk.

“I could do it again,” suggested Hullifan.  But it was apparent that fake noises were not going to scatter the bees from the area.

Bare considered what he knew of bees for a little while.  

“Bees sleep at night,” he said at last.

“We could go in when they were asleep then,” said Hullifan, “It would be easier.”

Bare nodded in agreement.

That decided, the two elves moved a short ways away from the lip of the depression and spent the day idly, resting and thinking.  

When night came, they both were well refreshed and felt ready for an excursion into the hive.  They waited for about an hour to allow the bees time to begin resting before moving gingerly to the lip of the depression.  They peered below.  To their elven eyes the ground was well lit by the light of the half-moon.  There was no sign of movement around the great trunk nor in the air above them.  No sound of buzzing bees could be heard.  They slid gently down into the depression and moved stealthily toward the closest ground opening with all the intense concentration of master criminals after a huge haul.

They paused at the mouth of one of the holes in the ground and considered the options.  The opening was too small to enter upright and it would certainly be too small to enter together.  One of them would have to crawl down into the hive of giant bees first.  

“I’ll go first,” said Hullifan excitedly.  The sneakiness of their endeavor was apparently inducing a certain amount of bold rashness in him.  

“Alright,” said Bare.

Hullifan drew his sword and then skidded headfirst into the hole and crawled a short ways on his hands and knees. The hole, which was dry and earthy, with bits of roots hanging down from above, widened a bit past the mouth of the tunnel allowing more than enough room for maneuvering.  One problem did present itself however about ten feet into the tunnel.  The light outside the tunnel failed to reach in and through the dirt.  Even with their sharp eyesight, the elves could make out very little once they got past a certain point.

“We need a light,” said Hullifan to Bare, whispering softly.

“It might wake up the bees,” whispered Bare back.

“But we won’t be able to see to find the honey,” said Hullifan back.

“What can we use for a light?” asked Bare, “Do we have any candles or anything?”

“I didn’t buy any,” said Hullifan, “Didn’t you?”

“No.”

“I can make a magical light,” said Hullifan.

“It might wake the bees.”

“We have to see.”  Neither elf noticed their voices had started gradually getting louder as they conversed.

Hullifan looked around at the walls of the tunnel and muttering a few arcane words, he touched them at a spot just behind his head.  A steady glow erupted, bathing the tunnel in light and casting shadows on the other side of the elves.  

With the tunnel now lit, at least in one spot, Hullifan continued to crawl forward again, as stealthily as possible.  He made it another five feet before he encountered another difficulty.

It was a giant bee, very much awake, though whether it had been the light that had bothered it or the sound of the elves might have been difficult to determine.  What Hullifan did determine quickly enough was that the bee was not very happy.  Its agitated movements, coupled with the way it was trying to curl its stinger around to strike at him, gave him the definite impression that it was upset.

Hullifan wasted no time in trying to stab the bee with his sword.  But the limited amount of space afforded to him by the tunnel made it tricky.  He thrust feebly forward and the bee swatted his blade aside as it mowed toward him.  Behind Hullifan, Bare was discovering the dual difficulty of trying to fire a long bow in the middle of a four and a half foot wide tunnel past and around a comrade.  By some stroke of luck or skill he managed to get off a shot.  However the arrow completely missed its target and ricocheted off a dirt wall and snapped apart against the opposite wall a few feet further down the tunnel.  

The bee lunged at Hullifan with its stinger and Hullifan managed to dodge against the side of the tunnel wall, parrying the stinger slightly with his sword.  It was enough of an opening to allow Bare a second shot with his bow.  This arrow flew straight into the giant bee and stuck.  

The bee was not dead however and it lunged forward with its stinger again.  This time Hullifan was too slow and the sharp, poisoned stinger drove home, straight into his side.  With a lurch the giant bee propelled itself back, the stinger ripping away from its torso.  The bee shuddered twice and then collapsed against the bottom of the tunnel, unmoving.  

Hullifan grunted from pain and reaching down he grasped the stinger and pulled to get it out.  It did not slide out smoothly, it was barbed.  Despite the pain he managed to extract it and gingerly he poked at the wound.  It burned, likely from poison as much as the sheer mutilation of flesh, but other than pain, there seemed to be little effect from the massive sting.  

The two elves were now presented with a slight problem in the form of the giant dead bee.  It was partially blocking the way forward.

“We could burn it,” suggested Hullifan, “We do have the oil.”

Bare, though, upon considering the size of the bee, and the mass of bodily fluids no doubt within the bee, formed the educated opinion that it would not burn well with only a mere flask of oil to ignite it.  There seemed to be little other option but wiggle over the body.  Hullifan again went first, crawling over the bee and then past it.

A new fragrance began to fill the tunnel as they went forward.  It was the unmistakable smell of honey.  Lots of honey.  Eagerly, but quietly, they went forward another ten feet or so, around a bend in the tunnel and up just a bit.  

The tunnel widened out suddenly, becoming an earthen chamber with a high ceiling.  By the aid of the dim magical light that streamed twenty feet down through the tunnel and into the room, Hullifan and Bare could make out the shape of five slumbering giant bees, each in various places in the room.  They could also see the giant honeycombs on the other side of the bees

Now all they had to do was cross the room without waking the bees and steal a jar full of honey.


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## Lela (Oct 12, 2003)

Very cool Wicht.  Great way to start off an adventure.  Not every hero (in fact, most I think) get their start by killing off an evil lord or rescuing trapped or kidnapped children.

 As long as you keep writing it I'll keep enjoying it.

 Thanks,


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## Buttercup (Oct 12, 2003)

This should be interesting.


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## Darklone (Oct 12, 2003)

Right. Very interesting "group" composition. Guess they will be doing pretty fine as long as there aren't too many too dangerous battles.


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## Wicht (Oct 12, 2003)

Glad you guys find it interesting thus far.  This is still all Prologue - the "Real" story gets more fully started in the next chapter.  All the encounters in the Prologue were basically ad-libbed because my kids wanted to play so badly and impatiently wanted to get started before I had really got any ideas down for their adventures.  Even the village of Oakheart began as a hastily drawn map five minutes after character creation.  To be honest, this was the first time I had ever done so much 3e DnD on the fly.  The characters and names were all their ideas though.  I would likely have designed a more "balanced" party for them but these two guys were who they wanted to play.

And now, the last part of the prologue...


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## Wicht (Oct 12, 2003)

*5. *
As the giant bees slept soundly the two elves weighed their options.  

“Only one of us should sneak into the room,” whispered Bare very, very quietly.  

“Which one?”  whispered Hullifan just as quietly.  

“I’ll go,” whispered Bare, “I can do it quieter.”

“I’ll cover you then with my bow,” whispered Hullifan back.

Swallowing hard, Bare started to creep stealthily into the room.  His footsteps were as light as feathers.  The bees barely stirred.  Reaching the honeycombs on the far wall, Bare opened the lid of the jar and quietly and slowly scooped it full of honey.  Then, placing the lid on the jar he started back across the room.  If anything, he was quieter in the leaving than he had been in the entering.  Once he reached the tunnel mouth both he and Hullifan began to slowly and quietly retrace their steps.  They did not speed up until they had exited the bee-tunnel and reached the spot they had entered down into the depression.  Placing the honey jar into Bare’s backpack, they scooted up the climb and only then did they feel able to talk.

“We did it,” said Hullifan jubilantly.  

“We did it,” said Bare just as excitedly.  They had rested all during the day and so were not tired.  Despite it being night, they could see well enough and instead of making a camp, they decided to simply head straight back towards Oakheart.  

Their pace was quick and such was their elation at having completed their master’s set task that they paid little attention to more than setting their feet in the right direction.

Thus it was that about two hours after leaving the hive of giant bees, they almost walked straight into a small band of goblins without realizing it.

“Stupid Negrit,” murmured a voice a very short ways ahead of them in the goblin tongue, “Stupid negrit gets himself lost and then its us as has to find him isn’t it!”

“Goblins,” hissed Bare frantically at his friend, “hide quick!”

Hullifan darted behind a tree and Bare darted in the other direction,

Just as they were situating themselves, four goblins stepped out from the underbrush not fifteen feet away.  At once the beady red goblin eyes latched onto the figures of two elves trying to hide themselves.”

“Stinking Elves!!!” called the goblin in the front of the other three goblins.  All four goblins immediately hefted the javelins they were carrying.

At that moment Bare fired an arrow.  It flew through the air and lodged deep in the throat of the one in front who had yelled.  Two of the goblins, a fraction of a second began charging, javelins leveled, at Hullifan.  Hullifan, who had been nocking an arrow looked up just in time to see the two javelins as the rammed into him.  With a cry, Hullifan fell to the ground.  The other goblin threw his javelin at Bare.  But it flew wide and landed in a bush to Bare’s left.  

Bare fired a second time and one of the goblins that had been about to stab at Hullifan fell to the ground never to move again, an arrow had lodged in his chest.  The other goblin standing over Hullifan turned from the prone elf and javelin at the ready, charged towards Bare.  Bare dropped his bow, stepped aside from the thrust and drew out his rapier.  The other goblin charged towards Bare as well but Bare, with his Rapier now out, easily parried aside the goblins javelin and then with an easy motion savagely thrust the tip of his sword into the first goblins heart.  

With a cry the remaining goblin turned and fled from this elven machine of death and began running eastwards into the forest.  Bare sheathed his rapier and picking up his bow he fired a shot at the back of the fleeing goblin.  His arrow hit a branch and repelled aside, failed to strike.  Bare fired one more time at the receeding figure and missing once more, decided to turn his attention to his bleeding friend.  

Hullifan was not dead, but it was a close thing.  With all the ability he could muster, Bare worked to stop the bleeding and then made a bed on the forest floor on which his friend could lay.

The night passed slowly for the lone elf, but his diligence paid off.  By morning, Hullifan, though still gravely injured, was strong enough to talk and with the aid of Bare, strong enough to move slowly through the forest back to Oakheart.


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## Lela (Oct 13, 2003)

Wow, that Bare kicks goblin tail.


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## Darklone (Oct 13, 2003)

Which Rangerversion is Bare using? I didn't see a favoured enemy...


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## Wicht (Oct 13, 2003)

Darklone said:
			
		

> Which Rangerversion is Bare using? I didn't see a favoured enemy...




Bare is using the 3.5 version, courtesy of the SRD .  His favored anemy is Goblinoid.  I just forgot to include it above.  

His player, my son Joshua, rolled amazingly well in his fights against goblins.  Until the very last goblin, I don't think he rolled under 15 on his 'to hit' rolls.


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## Darklone (Oct 16, 2003)

Still wasn't too easy. Perhaps Hullifan should better be a little bit more defensive next time


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## SpaceBaby Industries (Oct 16, 2003)

While I will miss the antics of the great Barbarian and Rogue duo your sons played last campaign (the attempts to activate additional powers of a certain magic ring still cracks me up), I look forward to their new adventures.

Are they continuing to choose the classes that are not purely magical in focus (granted, Bard is getting pretty close) to avoid the attendant complications?  Or do they come up with these character concepts based on whatever strikes them at the moment?  I'm trying to remember their ages, and there's no doubt Barbarians and other Fighter types have less to keep track of, making for a more straightforward character experience.

Of course, these guys are bordering on veterans by now, so they'd probably manage being a Cleric or Wizard better than a D&D neophyte.


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

*Chapter 1**
1.1*
Spring in Lendelwood this year had brought goblins and war to the village of Oakheart.  The first actual melees with goblins had been the two brief sorties involving Bare and Hullifan, the apprentice wizards.  But in the weeks that followed several other bands of goblins were encountered and more often then not, dispatched with ease.  The goblin parties had been small and they seemed to be scouting parties more than anything else.  Still, several elves had been injured and one wood elf had gone missing.

Of late though the rumors of war had been overshadowing the threat of goblins.  For one thing, no goblin had been seen in two weeks.  For another thing, the tale of some massive invasion effort on the part of Eldor was taken as a very real and eminent danger.  Five years previously the nation of Eldor, which lay just west of the elven forest had declared war on the elves.  Skirmishes had been frequent and the humans seemed to take the war seriously though they had yet to send a full invasion force.  The elves, for their part, had taken a defensive position, sniping at soldiers from hiding and allowing few to return home alive.  But the humans of Eldor far outnumbered the elves of Lendelwood and the elves feared a large scale battle.  Even if they won they toll would be too high.

Most of the skirmishes had been fought south and west of Oakheart and thus far, Oakheart had seen little in the way of action.  The more friendlier nation of Cosdol was just as near as the nation of Eldor was.  In point of fact the elves of Oakheart occasionally traded with people of Cosdol.  But the latest rumor of war placed the next attack from Eldor in the north, and the elves of Oakheart feared it would not be much longer before they saw battle.

Their fears were confirmed in the person of Thalanaeorive Rawannaesian.  This much esteemed commander, the elf in charge of the defenses of the entire forest, flew into Oakheart upon his hippogriff one morning and called for a general assembly of the village.  The rumors, he said, were true though the size of the invasion was exaggerated.  But an army of 500 men was poised to enter the northern border of Lendelwood near to the Cosdol border.  

Thalanaeorive then proceeded to lay out his plan to the villagers.  A sizeable body of elves was going to ambush the invaders and attack the human soldiers from the trees.  He needed volunteers for the ambush, elves that could shoot well and who could be ready to go within a day.  Other messengers had been sent to other communities and a rally point was already chosen.

The elves were not violent people but neither were they cowards.  Hunters and trappers and wood-elves of all stripes quickly stepped forth to serve.

It was only natural that Bare and Hullifan wanted to volunteer as well.  

These two elves had studiously applied themselves to books and learning since returning from their minor quest for honey.  Their master, the renowned Tamilthim Redimolvan, had been pleased both with the honey and with their subsequent strides in learning.  Bare had graduated up to his very first book of spells and Hullifan, who had been rather uncomfortably close to dying after meeting goblins, had mastered the tricky art of healing magics.  But the fights with the goblins (and the thrill of sneaking into a hive of giant bees) had put the taste for adventure in their mouths and an ambush on the humans of Eldor seemed just the thing.

They did not get far.

“Bare Wancalein,” Bare had said to Thalanaeorive, “I want to volunteer.”

“Me too,” said Hullifan excitedly.

Thalanaeorive had looked them over and then had said, “Sorry, I’m afraid not.  You both look too young.  This is an ambush and I know young elves are more likely to lose their heads then older more steady elves.”

“What!” said Bare.

“But we want to go!” said Hullifan.

“Sorry,” said Thalanaeorive, “If this was an open pitched battle, young bloods like you would be ideal, but this is an ambush and as commander I must feel like I can have confidence in my troops.  Give yourself another fifty years or so.”

“Besides,” he added sadly, “There’s a chance we might fail and then you two, and others like you will be all that stands between death and those who cannot fight.”

Bare and Hullifan had been outraged, but there was nothing they could do, though they certainly thought about it.

“I bet we can form our own little army and fight this war ourselves,” Bare had fumed.

Their teacher had been no help.

“If Thalanaeorive doesn’t want you to go then you aren’t going,” the wizard had said matter of factly, “It’s his army.  If its any consolation I’ll give you lots of work to take your mind off of it.”

In the end, a good many of the men of Oakheart went with Thalanaeorive.  Even Daeorian, the priest of the Great Huntress had gone to offer healing and advice on archery.  The town seemed fairly empty, though it was not, in fact, entirely deserted.

True to his word, Tamilthim had given them plenty of studying to do.  They did not actually mind reading and so it was not as bad as it might have been.  Hullifan even ran across a subject on his own that caught his fancy and soon caught the fancy of Bare as well.  It was an old and forgotten tome, stashed on a back shelf in Tamilthim’s collection entitled, “The Lost Art of Magical Candies.”  The book discussed ways in which the ancient elves had used sweets much like more modern wizards used potions.  

Bare, upon discovering Hullifan reading the book had demanded that he be allowed to look at it as well and they ended up passing it back and forth.  Caught up in the notion of making magical candies, they soon realized that they would also have to learn how to make more mundane candies and so they sought out books on that as well.  

And so the days passed.

It was four days after the departure of Thalanaeorive and the ambushers that Xa’Ceelia, the dryad druid sent for the two young elves.  They were on the lawn in front of Tamilthim’s tower.  Hullifan was reading on the proceedures for making magical candies and Bare was watching the clouds pass by through the leaves of a tree.  A pigeon fluttered down out of the sky and landed next to Hullifan.

“Hello,” said the pigeon, “Are you two Bare and Hullifan?”

“Hi,” said Hullifan, “yeah that would be us.”  Bare sat up and looked at the pigeon.

“Xa’Ceelia wants to talk to you,” said the pigeon.

“Okay,” said Bare.

“Thank you,” said Hullifan more politely.  The pigeon cooed once, its job done, and then it took off into the air and flew back the way he had come.

The elves wasted little time in getting up and wiping themselves clean of grass.  Then they walked the few hundred yards to the Oak in the center of the village.

  Xa’Ceelia was standing besides her oak, a book on the grass by her feet, along with Gragoriae Timbleflute, the Bard-priest of Banadar.  On the ground between the two was a dimunitive little man, little more than 18 inches in height, a brownie by the looks of him, who was engrossed in conversation with Xa’Ceelia.  The priest was listening to the conversation politely.

As Bare and Hullifan approached The Oak, Xa’Ceelia saw them and smiled her warm and beautiful smile.

“Greetings young ones,” she said, “I am glad you came.  There is a problem that has been brought before me and you two are just the ones that me and Gragoriae think would be perfect for seeing to the solution.”

“Really,” said Hullifan excitedly.

“What’s wrong,” asked Bare more guardedly.

“An old friend of mine, Dargin, this small rascal you see here…”

“Ach, Xa’Ceelia,” said the brownie, “yer breaking me heart!  I’m notta that bad noo.”

“The rascal,” continued Xa’Ceelia with a fond smile, “brings me grave news.  It seems that the goblins we hoped had gone away have in fact come back.”

“Goblins is right,” interrupted the brownie, “I was down in the south a visitin’ some friends o’ mine when I decided to come back up home.  I got back yesterday evening and stopped by to see some other friends o’ mine, a nice little family of elves that lives about three miles west o’ this here village and when I gots there, there was a no answer at the door, but I do keen I saw some goblin tracks.  That did no a make me happy and so I went to spend the night in a favorite haunt o’ mine, a nice big oak with a good sized hollow spot that I ‘ave made comfortable over the years.  And when I get there I finds two goblins resting up in me very hole!  I fair near ‘scaped with my life I did and this morning when I thought better o’ it I thought that Xa’Ceelia here did oughta know that there are goblins not five miles away.”

“Five miles is too close,” said Gragoriae gravely, “Who knows what mischief they are up to.  You will be familiar with the family Dargin is talking about Bare.  The Willowcoats.  He’s a hunter and she is a weaver.”

Bare nodded.  He knew them.  They were a nice family.

“We want you two to investigate for us,” said Xa’Ceelia, “Most of our more experienced woodsmen are gone and you two have shown you can handle yourselves with goblins.  But be careful if you decide to go, we don’t want to lose you.  Will you do it?.”

“Sure,” said Hullifan.

Bare thought a moment and then nodded, “I will do it.”

“Good.  Take this,” said Gragoriae, handing them two small vials, “they are healing draughts from Xa’Ceelia and me.  Don’t take unnecessary chances.”

The two elves took the potions, one apiece, and then after getting some details from Dargin about how to find his oak tree, they went to make preparations.  Dargin, who had said something about staying at the Stag for the night, stayed and talked to Xa’Ceelia.

Gragoriae, for his part, headed back to his shrine, humming to himself.  Something the brownie had said had inspired him with a tune.

“Xa’Ceelia,” he sang to himself softly, composing on the spot, “Your breaking my heart…


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

SpaceBaby Industries said:
			
		

> Are they continuing to choose the classes that are not purely magical in focus (granted, Bard is getting pretty close) to avoid the attendant complications?  Or do they come up with these character concepts based on whatever strikes them at the moment?  I'm trying to remember their ages, and there's no doubt Barbarians and other Fighter types have less to keep track of, making for a more straightforward character experience.
> 
> Of course, these guys are bordering on veterans by now, so they'd probably manage being a Cleric or Wizard better than a D&D neophyte.




They both surprised me by being so dogmatic about their character concepts.  Joshua (Bare) is seven and Caleb (Hullifan) is six.  This is their first attempt at playing real spellcasters but on the whole they are not doing too badly.

Joshua wants a Wizard/Ranger and Caleb wants the Arcanoligist prestige class (from Bad-Axe Games Elves book).  For their amusement I threw in the idea of magical candies and they latched onto it so we will see where they go with that.  

This is a good time to update their characters (I was generous with the Exp on the first adventure to give them a little bit of an edge with just the two of them.)

***************************

*Bare Wancalein, Male High Elf Rgr1/Wiz1:*  CR 2; HD 1d81d4+4; hp 15; AC 16 (leather); Init +4; ATK +2 melee  (1d6+1 rapier) or +5 ranged (1d8 longbow); SQ Ranger Abilities; SV For +4, Ref +6, Will +5; ALI NG; Str 13, Dex 19, Con 15, Int 15, Wis 16, Cha 9.
...*Skills and Feats*:  Concentration +3, Craft (Bows) +7, Handle Animal +3, Hide +8, Knowledge (Nature) +7, Listen +9, Move Silently +8, Search +8, Spellcraft +3, Spot +9, Survival +7; Scribe Scroll, Track, Wild Empathy, Favored Terrain (forest).
*Favored enemy:* Goblins
*Familiar:* Hawk - Cyarma

_Bare is an elf in love with the forest.  The trees, the animals, they all beckon to him and invite him to play.  He is also fascinated with magic and hopes to one day be a powerful wizard._

**************************

*Hullifan Tarrinall, Male High Elf Brd2:* CR 2; HD 2d6; hp 7; AC 14 (leather); Init +2; Atk +2 melee (1d8+1 longsword) or +3 ranged (1d6 short bow); SQ Bard Abilities; SV Fort +0, Ref +5, Will +4; AL NG; Str 13, Dex 15, Con 11, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 14.
...*Skills and Feats:* Appraise +6, Craft (musical instruments) +3, Decipher Script +7, Escape Artist +4, Gather Information +7, Hide +4, Jump +4, Knowledge (Arcana) +6, Listen +3, Perform +6 Search +4, Spellcraft +7, Spot +3, Use Magical Device +6; Combat Casting.

_Hullifan is driven by a love for ancient things, particularly those things magical.  He hopes with the proper training to one day be a renowned Arcanologist.  Until then he is devoted to his studies._


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## Elder-Basilisk (Oct 17, 2003)

It's good to see your kids games again. About halfway throught the prologue, I was beginning to wonder if these were your kids. . . .


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

I am impressed that my kid's previous games are still so fondly remembered.  I'll be sure and tell them they have fans.


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## Darklone (Oct 20, 2003)

Yeah, me too. It was nice to imagine the look on the face of the kids as the big elven honcho told them: "You're too young, you gonna stay at home!"


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## Wicht (Oct 22, 2003)

*1.2*
The Willowcoats lived, or if the worst was true, had lived in a modest but elegant elvish home far enough away from the village to be isolated but close enough to visit regularly.

Bare and Hullifan surveyed their house now from the shelter of two trees at the edge of the lawn.  All appeared peaceful from the outside.

Overhead a hawk circled, watching the forest, the house and the elves.  It was named Cyarma and it belonged, in a sense to Bare.

“I don’t think Cyarma sees anything,” said Bare. 

The two elves scooted closer to the house.  Bare scanned the ground.  

“Goblin Tracks,” said Bare.  He began to slowly scan the ground a little closer.

“I’ll cover you,” said Hullifan drawing out an arrow and nocking it to his bow string.  \

“Move quietly,” whispered Bare as he slowly began circling the house, hunched over to better scan the ground.  Despite Bare’s warning, the ground around the house did not seem particularly conducive to walking quietly and both elves found themselves struggling to be silent in their movements.  To their sharp elvish hearing they sounded both loud and obvious.

Bare circled the house once, puzzled and then reexamined the ground behind the house.  He looked at Hullifan confused for a moment.  He stopped in front of a window in the back of the house,

“There are goblin tracks going in the front door but none coming out,” he said, “But there are tracks going both in and out of this window.” 

“Let me take a look,” said Hullifan, stooping to peer down at the ground.  The tracks though meant nothing to him.

“Well, lets go in through the window,” said Hullifan.  Bare nodded agreement and Hullifan reached over and slid the window open without even bothering to look inside.   

The window squeaked and a pile of rags in the middle of an unmade bed moved.  A goblin face looked up in surprise, sleepiness giving way to shock in its beady red eyes.

Thinking quickly, Hullifan started reciting a poem.  It was a rather unusual poem but Hullifan thought it might appeal to the goblin and throw it further off balance.  To the side of the window, Bare sensing the presence of the goblin in the room readied himself to cast a spell.

“Ohh… He’ll break his legs and arms and bones…” chanted Hullifan.

The goblin simply stared, whether out of complete bewilderment or genuine interest it was hard to say.  Bare suddenly stepped in front of Hullifan and stuck his finger forward at the goblin.  Instantly a bolt of pure energy sailed through the air and thudded into the goblin throwing it backwards.  Hullifan and Bare were momentarily jubilant.  But then the goblin moved and rolling off the bed it came to its feet with a javelin firmly gripped in its claws.  


“Help! Elvish Wizards!” yelled the goblin as it threw the javelin.  Hullifan did not understand what it was saying but Bare did.  The Javelin hit the wall underneath the window and flipped up harmlessly into the top of the window before landing with a racket on the floor of the room.  Bare lifted up his bow and fired an arrow into the room.  The goblin ducked but the arrow struck the bed, sinking into the mattress and spraying up feathers.  Hullifan suddenly remembered that he too had a nocked arrow on his bow and fired it into the room.  But the goblin was already fleeing towards the door, screaming at the top of his little lungs and the arrow flew behind him.  

Bare fired once more as the goblin ran through the door of the bedroom but his aim was high and the arrow flew over the head of the goblin.  There was a clatter from within the house as the arrow struck something.  Something fragile by the sound of it.  

Hullifan cast a quick spell and the sound of running footsteps filled the house.  Whatever Hullifan’s intention it did not seem to work and in a fraction of a second the goblin was completely out of sight.

Bare lifted himself up and through the window and into the bedroom beyond.  As Hullifan followed him into the house via the window, Bare crept to the door and listened.  He could clearly hear the babble of goblin voices.  

In goblin Bare hollered through the doorway in the goblin tongue, “There’s no elves.  No magic Elves.  It was just a leaf!”

There was a moment of silence from beyond and then a goblin voice called out puzzled, “Just a leaf?!”  

“What did you say?” asked Hullifan.  

But before Bare could answer four goblins came charging into the room carrying shields and wielding morningstars.  Hullifan reacted instantly.  He spoke and gestured and even as the goblins ran screaming into the room, three of them collapsed on the ground, sound asleep.  The only one not to fall asleep was the one who had already fled from the two elves only moments before.  This lone goblin stopped in mid-stride and gaped at his fallen comrades and then, once more screaming in fear, he turned and fled from the room.

“Kill them,” said Hullifan to Bare as he moved to look out the door and make sure no more were coming, “Stick them with your dagger.”

The sound of the fleeing goblin running up a nearbye set of stairs screaming was clearly audible.  

“Come in goblins, Come and Fight,” shouted Hullifan out of the door in the Merchant tongue.  There was no answer.

“My dagger?” said Bare, “Why not my Rapier?”  

Bare drew his Rapier and ran one of the sleeping goblins through.  Hullifan drew out his longsword and went to help dispatch the other two goblins.

They left the bedroom slowly and cautiously.  There were clear sounds of movement both above them and below them. Beyond the bedroom was an expansive living room connected to a kitchen.  The stairs up appeared to be over in the kitchen.  As they entered stealthily into the kitchen they were met by a most horrible sight.  Upon the kitchen table was the hacked bodies of the two elves that had lived in the house.  Parts of the bodies were also on one of the counters and it appeared that the goblins had been cooking bits of the elves over the fire, though it was currently out.  Flies buzzed about the bloody mess.


With a sickening feeling the two elves turned their eyes away from the horrible sight and looked at the stairs.  There were actually two sets of stairs in the kitchen, one going up and the other one going down.  

Bare took a moment to look at each set of stairs.  There were clear signs of goblins going both upstairs and downstairs.

“You go downstairs and I will go upstairs,” suggested Bare, hefting his rapier.  

“No!” said Hullifan, “I’ll get killed.”

“Then we will both go upstairs,” said Bare, “Just do it quietly.”

They proceeded stealthily up the steps.  Bare was in the lead.  He moved slowly, planting each foot carefully on the step so as to be as quiet as possible.  He stepped on the fifth step.  It creaked.

With a wince he moved quickly up and off it.  It creaked as his foot left it and then creaked again when Hullifan stepped on it.

But despite the noise no goblins rushed at them.  Both reached the top of the stairs.

They were on a landing overlooking the living room.  There was a rail on the left side of the landing and a wall on the right.  At the end of the landing was an open door.  Standing in the bedroom on the other side of the door were two goblins, weapons and shields at the ready.  The goblins made no move to rush them but stood poised to accept a charge.

“I can take care of them,” said Bare.  He shifted his rapier to his off hand and made a gesture and spoke a word.  

The two goblins yawned suddenly but shaking their heads they resisted the affects of Bare’s sleep spell with all of their might.

THUD!

A goblin who had been hiding behind the door fell forward, snoring heavily.

Bare stared surprised.  Hullifan wasted no time, but with an elvish battle cry he charged forward at the two standing goblins.  

One of the goblins was clearly the one who had already fled from them twice.  This was the goblin that Hullifan aimed for.  His sword swing was a bit wild but it still managed to clip the goblin through the neck.  With a burbling cry the goblin fell to the floor, dying.  

The remaining goblin tried to stab at Hullifan with the short spear he was holding but Hullifan leapt aside and out of the way.  Still in the hall Bare cast another spell.  A flash of light exploded in the goblins face, but as chance would have it the goblins eyes were screwed up tight as it stabbed wildly at Hullifan.  Hullifan carved wildly through the air at the goblin but it threw up its shield and staggered back unhurt.  Then in retaliation, while Hullifan was off balanced, it stabbed forward at him, catching him in the side.

Bare rushed forward to aid his comrade, rapier at the ready but the goblin, excited now by bloodlust  dodged quickly aside and then blocked another of Hullifan’s wild swings with its shield.  It tried to again stab at Hullifan, using the exact same tactic, but this time the elf was better prepared and turned aside the spear thrust with his sword.  

Bare swung down at the goblins head and the goblin cowered aside and out of the way in a moment of panic.  It'’ panic was its undoing for it had momentarily forgotten Hullifan.  Hullifan’s sword caught it in the shoulder and cut down into its chest.  It fell to the ground.

Downstairs the sound of feet could be heard pounding up the cellar stairs.  Evidently the goblins in the basement had decided to come join in on the action.

Bare rushed over to the sleeping goblin and ran his sword through its ragged leather armor and into its heart.  Its eyes flied open and then it died.  

Hullifan stabbed his sword down into the floor at the back of the room and then drew out his bow and nocked an arrow.  Bare, taking a cue from the goblin he had just slain hid himself behind the door.

The pounding feet were rushing up the stairs from the first floor now.  Hullifan saw five squat goblins running as fast as they could, begin to reach the landing.  He fired his first arrow and started to draw a second arrow immediately.  The lead goblin lurched and then collapsed in a heap at the very top of the stairs, slowing down his three companions momentarily.  It was enough to allow Hullifan to fire off a second shot as the three goblins leaped over their fallen companion and rushed towards the open door.  Hullifan’s second shot was wide and sailed off over the railing of the landing, missing the new lead goblin by several inches.  

But as the first goblin ran into the room at Hullifan, Bare swung from his hiding place behind the door.  His sword stroke was true but not strong enough.  It turned on the goblins leather armor and the goblin, enraged turned immediately to face this new threat to its life.  Bare swung again though before the goblin could even swing its morning star and this time he aimed just above the armor slicing the goblins throat open.  

Two of the other goblins had already rushed past Bare and into the room at Hullifan.  They both carried short swords and such was the fierceness of their attack that Hullifan could do little to turn away their sword strokes and both cut him.  Hullifan now bled from three wounds and he could feel himself growing weaker.

“No!” he shouted at the goblins but his swing was poor and the goblins scampered easily out of the way.

The final Goblin had stopped to challenge Bare.  Bare easily avoided it’s weak attack and then skewered it.  As it dropped to the ground he moved to help Hullifan.

Hullifan swung and connected his sword with the head of one of the goblins, knocking it to the ground.  

Immediately the last goblin standing threw up his hands.  

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me” he shouted in goblin.  Hullifan, not understanding goblin swung at him again anyway.  Bare paused for a moment and then remembered the elf bodies downstairs.  He lunged forward with his rapier.  With a squeak the goblin threw himself sideways and out of the way of both blades.  Then in desperation he stabbed forward at Hullifan with his short sword.  The sword pierced Hullifan through the chest and he sank to his knees.

Bare lunged savagely at the Goblin, running him clean through and then rushed to Hullifan’s side.  Hullifan’s wound was serious and unless something was done quickly Hullifan would almost certainly die.  
Bare suddenly remembered the healing potions they had been given before leaving Oakheart.  Pulling his out he slowly poured the liquid between Hullifan’s lips.  The healing properties of the potion immediately began to work. 

Hullifan stirred weakly and sat up. 

Relieved Bare stood and began to examine the room more closely.  It was evident that a goblin had been making the room his home.  The place was a mess.  Bare’s eyes strayed to a folded sheet of paper atop the bed.  He moved over to the bed and unfolded the parchment.  There, clearly drawn, though with a crude hand, was a partial map of Oakheart.

“What!” exclaimed Bare in outrage.


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## Lela (Oct 22, 2003)

Well, that's not good.


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## Darklone (Oct 22, 2003)

Hah, Oakheart has two heros!


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## Wicht (Nov 5, 2003)

*1.3*
Bare and Hullifan spent the night in the second story bedroom of the Willowcoats house, trying not to think about the partially consumed elves downstairs.  They searched and stripped the dead goblins in the room of gear.  The goblin who had been hiding behind the door was equipped slightly better than the others.  For one thing the bow he had been carrying was of a quality make as was his short sword.  He also had a quill and a small bottle of ink on his person, indicating he had been the one who had made the map.    

There was a chest in the room at the foot of the bed.  Hullifan, seeing no key for it anywhere smashed it open with his sword.  Inside was a large quantity of golden coins.  

They talked quietly through the night of what they had found, making plans to continue in the morning towards the hollow tree that Dargin, the brownie, had mentioned seeing goblins in.  Bare was indignant at the thought of this many goblins infesting his forest home.

“They wanted to kill us,” he complained to Hullifan indicating the partially drawn map of Oakheart they had found.  

“We killed them first though,” said Hullifan philisophically.

***********************

When morning came they exited the house and began the walk towards the oak tree in question.  Cyarma, Bare’s hawk companion, fluttered down from where he had perched the night atop the roof of the elvish house and landed on Bare’s arm.  Bare smiled and fed him a scrap of meat from a pouch at his belt.  

“Fly ahead,” said Bare to Cyarma stroking the hawk’s feathered head, “and let us know if you see anything.”  Cyarma finished swallowing the small bit of meat and then let out a mild screech of agreement.  He moved his feet back and forth for a moment and then took off into the air.

“He will let us know if there are any goblins near,” said Bare to his friend.  

The tree was supposed to be only about two miles east of the Willowcoat’s house.  After traveling the first mile with a fair amount of speed, the two elves began to move much more slowly and quietly, aware that if there were goblins they would rather that it was they who surprised the goblins and not the other way around.  

Cyarma was the first to spy the goblins from his vantage point far above the forest roof.  His keen eyes made them out nestling in a large hollow spot in a large oak tree.  The hollow spot was some twenty feet above the forest floor.

“Cyarma sees some goblins,” said Bare quietly to Hullifan and indicated the direction in which they needed to go.

Hullifan nodded and the two of them began to creep low to the ground, doing their best to be quiet and unseen.  They peered through the bushes and then crept a bit further making sure they continued to move quietly.  

After a few minutes of traveling in this way they cleared a low rise and saw through the forest undergrowth the tree in question.  It was rather large around and quite tall, a giant in its own right.  Their keen elven eyes had no trouble making out the two goblins sitting rather comfortably in a hollow opening twenty feet above the floor.  The goblins, each armed with a short bow were not talking but were instead peering off into the forest.  They were obviously sentries of some sort.  Fortunately for the two elves the goblins seemed more zealous than skilled in their duties and neither goblin spotted the elves who were not thirty feet away in a straight line from their vantage point.  

Bare sent his Cyarma a mental command to keep looking for trouble and then he and Hullifan began a hurried but quiet discussion.

“What now,” said Bare so low as to be almost silent.

“I could use Ghost sound,” began Hullifan…

“Could you imitate a goblin king?”

“Ghost sound doesn’t do voices.”

“A sleep spell then,” said Bare.

“Right,” said Hullifan.

Perhaps one of the goblins thought he heard something for he started to look more closely at the forest floor near his tree perch.  But he didn’t have time to spot the elves.  Bare spoke the necessary words and pointed at the goblins.  Both fell soundly asleep at once.  

Without waiting Bare dropped his pack, leaped up and ran to the tree which he then began to quickly scale.  Hullifan meanwhile stayed where he was and pulled out his bow.  It was the bow they had taken from the goblin at the Willowcoats.  He fired on arrow at the goblin closest to the opening of the hollow trunk.  His arrow landed squarely in the goblin’s chest.  The goblin lurched from the impact and his body reacted by jumping up from its crouched position.  The effect was such as to cause the goblin to fall out of the hollow.  His head hit one branch on the way down and then he careened into the ground.  Bare looked questioningly back at Hullifan from his spot halfway up the tree trunk.  The falling goblin had barely misses hitting him.  Hullifan smiled wickedly and fired again.  His arrow missed the still sleeping goblin and thudded into the back of the hollow trunk, buzzing from the impact.  The goblin stayed asleep though and Hullifan fired a third shot.  This one struck home and the goblin slumped from sleep into death.  

Bare reached the hollow opening with one hand and pulled himself quickly up to it.  He took a quick look at the wooden hole.  It was large enough for two goblins and would be a nice home to a brownie but it was only big enough for one elf.  Bare grabbed the body of the now dead goblin and pulled it out past him and propelled it down to the forest floor where it landed with a thud by the body of its late companion.

“It’s only big enough for one of us,” said Bare over his shoulder to Hullifan who had started climbing the tree to join Bare.  Then Bare scooted into the trunk and looked at what the dead goblins had left there.  Neither bow had fallen with its owner nor had the two quivers of arrows resting against the back of the trunk.  In addition to the short bows there was also a rope ladder and a hunting horn.  The bottom of the hollow opening was very smooth, as if it had been sanded and cut into a flat floor.  Probably Dargin’s work assumed Bare.

“There’s a hunting horn in here,” said Bare to Hullifan who had by now reached a branch just below the hollow and was able to look in.  

“Its probably their alarm,” said Hullifan knowledgably.

About that time Cyarma spotted some more goblins.  They were resting in a small spot only about a half a mile from the tree.  

“Cyarma sees some more small smelly things,” said Bare to Hullifan.

“Small smelly things?”

“That’s how she thinks of goblins, don’t ask me why, they are bigger then she is.  I am going to blow the horn.  Then the goblins will come and we can shoot them from up here.”

“How many of the goblins are there?” asked Hullifan

“My hawk can’t count,” answered Bare with a wry grin, “Not many though.”  Then without a further word Bare lifted the horn to his lips and blew.  The note sounded out loud and clear, ringing through the forest tree tops.  With a wicked smile of anticipation Bare readied his bow and nocked an arrow.  Hullifan looked panicked for a moment and started to try and climb higher.  His foot nearly slipped in his haste and thinking better of it he moved instead to a branch clockwise around the tree and wide enough to hide his form from the ground.  Then so positioned he also readied his bow.  

Within minutes a group of four goblins came running through the undergrowth from the south east.  They carried shields in one hand and wicked looking morningstars in the other.  As soon as they were close to the tree Bare and Hullifan fired.  Both arrows struck.  The goblin Bare hit spun from the impact and dropped to the floor.  It was not dead but moved slowly and weakly as if trying to get away .  Hullifan sliced through the shoulder of another goblin with his arrow.  The goblins stopped in surprise.  They had been expecting foes on the forest floor and now they were being attacked from the trees.  

The elves fired again.  Bare’s  arrow drove through the one he had dropped with his first shot and pinned it down to the earth.  Hullifan too hit his target, the goblin he had injured.  This arrow was slightly truer and the goblin flew back from the impact, the arrow in his chest.  He did not move again.

“There’s more goblins coming,” shouted Bare to Hullifan as he readied another arrow, “Cyarma just saw them.” 

The two remaining goblins pinpointed the elves up in the tree and in anger they rushed at the trunk to begin climbing up after their assailants.  Bare and Hullifan fired a third time but the new angle threw both of them off and the goblins, hugging close to the tree trunk watched the arrows fly harmlessly past them and started to move quickly to the lower branches.  Unfortunately for the goblins, their desire for vengeance was greater than their skill at climbing and both of them reached an impasse from which they could discern no quick way to get higher.  As they pondered Hullifan’s next arrow flew by them but Bare’s arrow was on target.  The arrow landed into the goblin from above.  The goblin dropped to its knees and then careened off the branch.

The remaining goblin looked nervously at its falling companion and then leapt for a higher branch, grabbed ahold of it and propelled itself quickly up to the hollow spot in the trunk.  Just as Bare was readying another arrow the goblin stuck its face in the hole.  

The goblin growled and screeched at Bare who quickly let loose of both arrow and bow and drew his dagger from his belt.  The goblin readied its morningstar just as Bare sliced forward with his dagger.  The dagger was quicker than the goblins weapon and sliced into its cheek.  An arrow landed suddenly in its ribs and then Bare stabbed it again.  With a look of helplessness the goblin loosed its hold on the side of the hollow trunk and fell backwards.  It hit the ground on its head and its neck snapped with a sound audible to the elves in the tree.

Both elves took deep breathes.

“Cyamar says there’s something dangerous with the other goblins coming.  I can’t make out quite what it is, but it scares her more than the goblins do,” said Bare sticking his head out of the hollow and speaking over to Hullifan.  

“I have another sleep spell,” said Bare after a moment’s thought, “this is a good time to use it.”

“I do too,” said Hullifan, “We can both cast it.”

Then, with nothing else they could think of to say, both elves moved back into their positions.  This time though, when the goblins burst through the forest floor they were coming from the north east and Bare realized immediately to his chagrin that he had no way of firing at them from the hollow trunk’s opening.  As he stuck himself out of the hollow he saw that in addition to another four goblins, there was also a fierce looking goblin mounted on a large black haired, red eyed wolf, a goblin worg.  Before the goblins could react to the sight of their fallen goblin comrades both elves let loose with their spells.  Hullifan’s spell struck first and three of the goblins on foot fell to the forest floor.  Hullifan’s spell was about two seconds behind.  The other goblin on foot fell asleep as did the massive looking worg.  The worg’s falling asleep in mid gallop caused its rider to be ejected from its back.  The hefty goblin though rolled with the tumble and sprang straight to his feet, a rage growing in his beady red eyes.  

“Stinking Goblin!” yelled Hullifan and drawing his bow back and wrapping his legs tight around the large branch upon which he was perched he fired down at the worg.  The arrow landed in its side and the worg’s eyes flew open.  The great black beasts leapt to its feet in pain and let out a howl of frustration.  The howl echoed from trunk to trunk and up through the leafy boughs.

Bare meanwhile was looking for a way in which to get to a position from which he could shoot the enemy.  He peered up above the hollow trunk’s opening but saw no immediate way in which to climb higher.  Frustrated he moved slowly out of the hollow and perching his foot on a branch below began to work his way further out onto the branch in order to better see the foe.  But even though he could see the howling worg now and the four sleeping goblins he could not see the fierce goblin that had been riding the worg.

That was because the goblin, who wore a shiny battleaxe on his back, was scaling the tree trunk directly on the other side of Bare.  Hullifan could see the goblin climbing but chose to once more fire at the worg.  His arrow struck and the worg, with two arrows now in its shaggy black body snarled in anger up at the elf.  Bare fired an arrow at it which grazed it, drawing some blood.  The worg snapped its jaws and then turned and leapt away into the undergrowth.

Hullifan turned his attention to the climbing goblin, who, he discovered to his dismay, in a matter of seconds had reached a branch which was only a short distance horizontally from the branch upon which Hullifan was sitting.  

With a cry of dismay Hullifan fired at the snarling goblin.  The goblin ducked aside from the missile and then with an animal growl it leapt from its branch over to Hullifan’s branch and clutching to it, the goblin pulled himself up and sat down on the branch, legs astride it like a horse.  

Hullifan lifted his bow up and hung it on a branch above and spinning his body around he too sat astride the branch facing the goblin and drew out his longsword.  

Bare fired one arrow at the retreating worg and then, seeing his friend about to enter into combat drew another arrow and aimed it at the goblin’s head. 

Hullifan meanwhile sliced forward with his sword, catching the goblin with the tip.  The goblin disdainfully ignored the blow and lunged forward, swingly wildly with its battle-ax held in both hands, holding onto the branch with its legs alone.  The swing went wide as Hullifan ducked back and away from it.  The goblins forward momentum though occurred just as Bare fired and the arrow sailed behind its head, missing by mere inches.  

Hullifan, swung again, but the goblin was not to be taken by another such blow.  As another of Bare’s arrows flew past it harmlessly, it blocked Hullifan’s swing with its battle ax and then, with a mad fury in its eyes it punched forward at Hullifan with the head of its ax.  The blow was unorthodox but, under the circumstances effective.  The axe head caught Hullifan in the ribs and propelled him backwards.  Hullifan’s legs slipped and he found himself falling from his perch.  Desperately, letting loose of his sword he grabbed at a nearby branch.  His fingers slipped but it was enough to slow his momentum and allow him to grab a second branchbelow him.  He swung down onto this branch, dangled for a moment, his feet only five feet or so above the forest floor and then let go, landing gracefully, albeit slightly bruised, next to his sword.  

Bare, unnerved by Hullifan’s fall missed the wild looking goblin a third time.  The goblin looked disdainfully down at Hullifan and then over to Bare who was about fifteen feet away from it on another branch.  The goblin looked for a way to bridge the distance.  Bare fired again and the goblin, with a movement almost as quick as a snakes moved aside in time.  The arrow sliced by its arm, raising a thin line of blood but the goblin ignored the pain and  moved closer to the trunk in an effort to try and climb across to Bare’s branch.  Hugging the trunk, the goblin quickly proved itself to be adept at dodging arrows.  Bare fired again and then again.  Each time the goblin, watching the elf out of the corner of its eyes, moved just in time and quickly enough so that the arrows struck the trunk and not it.  It snarled at Bare after each miss and continued to look for a way to make it to Bare.

Meanwhile down on the ground, Hullifan, knowing the goblins would not stay asleep forever had retrieved his sword from the ground and moved to dispatch them while they slept.  One after another he cut their throats and then moved on to the next one.  

As soon as Bare missed with another arrow the goblin screwed up its courage and leapt over to the  branch on which Bare was sitting.  Bare seized the opportunity and fired again.  This time the arrow struck true.  The goblin wrenched the arrow head from his shoulder and scooted forward towards Bare.  It’s jaws were actually foaming with rage and it seemed to have little regards for its own safety as it moved steadily at the elf.  

In panic Bare threw his bow down and drew out his rapier.  The longbow fell towards the ground, struck a branch and snapped.  It fell onto the floor in two pieces , held together only by its bowstring.  Bare scarcely heeded his bow’s death but lunged forward wildly with his rapier at the deadly goblin that was moving towards him.  The goblin, gripping its axe now turned aside the blow and swung wildly at Bare.  Bare countered ineffectually and then regaining some of his composure as he ducked away from the next wild swing, worked to focus his mind.  He was in his element the goblin was not.  So reassured, Bare stabbed forward calmly and precisely.  His blade bit into the goblins wounded shoulder and drew forth a fountain of more blood.  The goblin though, wild with fury and seemingly unkillable swung his axe with a wild abandon.  The axe caught Bare in the side and threw him from the branch.  Bare rolled with the fall and neatly caught another branch, the same one on which his bow had snapped.  The elf swung down and then used his swing to propel him up and onto the branch he was holding.  Pulling himself onto the branch he winced and held his wounded side.  The axe had cleaved neatly through his leather armor and into his flesh.

Overhead the goblin raged in fury and looked about ready to leap the ten feet over and down to where Bare was now.  But even as he gathered himself an arrow flew up from the ground and into his back.  Hullifan had finished the goblins on the ground off and had retrieved a spare bow from his pack which he had left on the ground next to Bare’s.  The goblin looked surprised for a moment and then he tumbled forward, off the branch and straight to the ground where he landed with a thud.  

Bare eased himself down from the branch he was on and onto the ground.

“Shall we search the bodies,” he asked  Hullifan with a grin.  They had conquered!

But just as the two elves lowered their guard and moved to examine the dead goblins a large black bundle of fur and teeth erupted from the undergrowth and charged straight at Hullifan.  It was the worg, returned with a fury.  Bare reacted almost instantly by drawing his rapier and running to assist his friend.

Hullifan rolled away from the worg’s furious attack and then drew his sword.  Bare stabbed ineffectually at the worg.  It was enough though to shift the worg’s attention from Hullifan to Bare.  With a snap of it’s jaws it lunged at Bare and tore into his wounded side.  Shaking the elf for a moment it dropped Bare to the ground and jaws slavering moved in for a killing blow.

Hullifan struck it with his sword on his back.  The blow snapped bone but the worg, with the same relentless fury its rider had possessed turned in a flash and bit into Hullifan’s arm.  Bare rolled away from the battle, scarcely strong enough to move.  With an effort he opened one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a small flask of liquid.  It was the second of the two healing potions they had received before leaving Oakheart.  He popped open the flask and swiftly swallowed the contents.  

The worg had released Hullifan’s arm, having torn great amounts of it with its savage teeth.  Hullifan lay on the ground unmoving, shock from the pain and sudden blood loss had caused consciousness to flee.  With a snarl the worg moved in once more to deliver a killing blow to an elf.  Again it was interupted.  Bare, back on his feet, had struck at it with his rapier.  The blow was innefectual but it saved Hullifan’s life for the moment.  The worg in fury and some exasperation turned to once more strike Bare.

It slashed at him with its teeth and Bare, trying to ignore the pain of the new wound and stay on his feet slashed at it with his rapier.  The worg in fury snapped back futilely at the blade and then tried to once more tear open Bare with its teeth.  Bare, gathering what strength he had left ducked aside from the deadly fangs and pierced the worg with his rapier between its shoulders.  Bleeding now from four grievious wounds the worg fell to the ground, its sides heaving.  Standing atop it Bare pushed slowly but firmly with his rapier into its heart.  The beast died.

Bare moved to bandage Hullifan who was bleeding badly yet from his torn arm.  Then with a mental call to his hawk he gathered their belongings and did a quick search of the bodies.  Out of curiousity he performed a minor incantion over the battle-ax the goblin had been using.  It was clearly of dwarf make.  The ax began to glow.  With a smile Bare tied it to his pack, grabbed the money pouch off the goblin (it clearly was full of coins) and returned to Hullifan.

With a grunt Bare lifted his friend in his arms and so laden with packs, friend and gold he slowly began the slow journey back to the village, his hawk flying lookout overhead.


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## Wicht (Nov 5, 2003)

I have begun a thread in the Plots and Places forum which details some of the DM information behind the Sylvatic Erudians.  Thus far I have only posted the general information about the village of Oakheart but the adventures will follow in about a week.  The link, which is also in my sig is Secrets of the Sylvatic Erudians.

I also explain there the meaning of Sylvatic Erudian in case anybody had been wondering what those words meant.


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## Darklone (Nov 11, 2003)

Wicht, your kids are amazing. How old are they now?


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## Wicht (Dec 4, 2003)

They are six and seven.  And as their father I am quite proud of how well they do.  In addition to playing D&D they have also just learned to play Magic and they are reading at a third grade level (they finished Charlotte's Web two weeks ago) I would guess.  Anyone want to see pictures?


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## Wicht (Dec 4, 2003)

*Chapter 2 
The Village of Ayden, Brandobia 
The 6th of Mustering 1044 YK*

*2.1*
The night was growing darker as clouds began to move across the sky, but there was still enough light for Bare and Hullifan to make out the graveyard which was located about half a mile from the village of Ayden, a small Brandobian settlement.  The cemetery was surrounded by a tall brick wall, but the elves still felt confident of their ability to sneak in and sneak out before the humans ever knew they were there.

“This will be so easy,” said Bare with a grin as he and Hullifan began creeping closer to the wall.

  They were there because Tamilthim Redimolvan wanted them to read one of the tombstones.  Five days earlier he had cornered them in the kitchen where Hullifan had been making some candy.  Hullifan’s candy making efforts were progressing quite well.  After their fight with the goblins and the warg, some of the other villagers had gone out in force to chase away any further goblins.  None were found, though evidence suggested there had been more, and the two elves had therefore had quite a bit of time to spend in more scholarly activities, like candy making.  The day before Hullifan had made a batch of such exquisite chocolate candy that Redimolvan had promptly declared the sweets to be the best he had ever had and had heartily encouraged Hullifan to devote his energies to making more of the chocolate honey drops.  Hullifan had been complying with his teachers request when Redimolvan cornered him and Bare in the kitchen (Bare was providing expert taste analysis).

“Are you done with that?” Redimolvan had asked looking at the cooling chocolate drops with just a hint of pleasure in his eyes..  

“Just am,” Hullifan had said, feeding one of the small morsels of sugar to his snake, Shaba.  The small poisonous viper had eagerly taken the sweet in his mouth, its tail shaking with exuberant excitement. 

“Good, I have a job for you two.”

Redimolvan had led them into his office where a map of Eldor was spread over his desk.  A large leather book had been open on top of the map.  

“A friend of mine from Eldor, Fioulaema Swordheart ,died three hundred years ago and left me his journal,” Redimolvan had began to explain. “this is that book.  He was a half elf who lived in Eldor and he did quite a bit of exploring in Eldor, Cosdol and the mountains to the east.  Reading his journal, I have become convinced he had found the location of a certain artifact I want to add to the museum, but he did not give the location in the journal.  On reading certain parts of it though, I am convinced that he planned on leaving a clue on his tombstone, just the sort of thing he enjoyed doing.”

“What does the tombstone say,” Bare had asked.

“I don’t know.  Therefore I have two options.  My first would be to go myself to read it, but truth be told I would rather be home at the moment.”

“We’ll do it,” Hullifan had volunteered, already seeing where the conversation was leading.

“Thank you,” Redimolvan had said with a smile, “but you two be careful.  I don’t need to tell you that Eldor is at war with us and many of them doubtlessly would not take kindly to seeing you in their country.”

He had then proceeded to go over the map with them, making plans with Bare concerning the best route for the two younger elves to travel to Ayden, which was not to far removed from Lendelwood.

The journey had, excepting one encounter with a small group of Tarantubats, easily dealt with, been fairly uneventful.  A large group of humans at the edge of Lendelwood, who had fortunately not seen the two elves, had reminded them of the need for stealth.  They had therefore, once out from under the shelter of the forest, traveled only at night, sleeping during the day in trees in groves.  They had, traveling thus, been unmolested by men and had met no one during the length of their journey.

Now, at least they had reached Ayden, and after a small bit of scouting, had discovered the cemetery about half a mile east of the village.  Aside from a few farm-yard dogs barking in the distance, the night was quiet.  

“This will be real easy,” Hullifan said, agreeing with Bare as they moved up to the brick wall, “We just scale the wall, find the right tombstone and then we are out of here and on our way home.”  The wall was about seven feet high, and did not look like it would be much of an obstacle.  

“I’ll go over first,” Bare said.

“No, I’ll go over first,” argued Hullifan.

“Let me.”

“I’m going over first,” said Hullifan and he started to climb before Bare could argue the point further.  

“Ugh,” said Hullifan with some heat, as he pulled himself up and over the wall.

“What’s the matter?” asked Bare

“There’s broken glass at the top.” Said Hullifan, now on the other side of the wall, “I almost cut my hand going over.  Try not to cut yourself.”

Bare grimaced, “I think I’ll try the gate and see if I can get in that way.”

Walking clockwise around the wall, Bare turned a corner and saw the gate situated ahead of him.  It was locked however and taller than the brick wall so Bare ended up trying to scale the wall anyway.  Gingerly he placed his hand around the glass atop the wall as he pulled himself over.  He hefted himself up and just as he began moving his legs atop the wall he slipped and one of the pieces of broken glass slid into his hand.  Large drops of blood splashed onto the wall’s cement cap.  With a rueful sigh, Bare finished hoisting himself over and dropped to the ground.  Pulling a rag from his backpack, he wrapped his hand.  The cut was shallow but still painful.  

“It’s a nice cemetery,” said Hullifan, moving over near Bare.  

Bare looked around and had to agree.  The spring grass was well trimmed and each grave was marked with a pleasing looking stone.  Some of the stones were nearly works of art, so intricate were the carvings adorning them.  The cemetery covered probably about twenty acres of land and though relatively large for the size of the village, it was old enough that much of the ground was covered with stone markers.

“Let’s find the right tombstone and then go,” said Bare, his voice sounding a little gruff due to his displeaasure at injuring his hand.

The two elves split up and began exploring the cemetery, reading the tombstones by the small amount of starlight available to them.  There were two crypts in the cemetery, all else was stone covered graves.  The graves stones were each marked by the name of the person buried underneath, but there was little order to it, or if there was an order or pattern, it escaped the elves.  

Finally, after about thirty minutes of searching, Bare called to Hullifan, “I’ve found it.”

As Hullifan started over to where he was, Bare sat down upon the grass in front of the tombstone and pulled out a parchment, a quill and some ink to record to words for his teacher.  

The stone read, “Fioulaema Swordheart; 321-744; _North through the Pass, East through the Sun, South to the Grave, I have made my run._”

Hullifan, seeing that Bare had the gravestone situation well in hand meandered casually around the area, reading some of the more picturesque or poetical stones.  Bare’s hawk, Cyarma, drifted down out of the sky and landed on the ground next to Bare.  Cyarma was not a night creature by habit and had been awake most of the day while the elves had slept in a nearbye grove.  Bare, sensing the hawk’s impatience to get back to a ‘normal’ schedule, reached over and scratched its head absently between words.  

Bare was about halfway done copying the stone when Hullifan suddenly scooted quickly and quietly back over to where he was sitting.  

“Someone’s climbing over the north wall,” hissed Hullifan 

“What?” said Bare in surprise, “I want to finish this, almost done.”

“Shh!  I’ll go check it out”

Bare shooed at Cyarma, mentally ordering him back into the sky and off the ground and then turned his full attention to writing more quickly.  He had been taking his time, making his elvish characters neatly. Now he wrote just a little faster.  If it had been brighter out he would have had Cyarma scout out the situation for him, but the hawk’s eyes were not as sharp in the night.

Meanwhile Hullifan crept stealthily toward the north end of the cemetery to see if he could make out who was climbing over the wall.  Pausing within sight of the wall behind a group of rose bushes, Hullifan scanned the wall.  A cloaked and hooded figure awkwardly crept over the glass topped brick wall and then rolled off the wall and landed with a thud and a grunt on the ground.  The figure, a human by the sound of the voice, moved over to pick up some tools he had tossed over, a shovel and a pick, muttering all the while.

“I hear them.  I hear them.  Gotta find them so they stop whispering.  Gotta find them,  I hear them.  Gotta find them.”

Intrigued Hullifan followed the mumbling voice as he cloaked figure made its way towards the western end of the cemetery.

“Closer now.  Louder now.  I hear them.  Getting closer.  Gotta find them.  I’m coming,” the voice continued its constant muttering.  

Bare crept quietly over to Hullifan, his scribe work done and the parchment safely stowed away for wiser eyes to peruse.  

“What’s going on?” Bare whispered to Hullifan.

“Shh.” 

Both of the elves were well hidden in the night and they moved so quietly that the muttering object of their chase did not even know he was being watched or pursued.

“Closer now.  Much closer now,” the muttering continued.

Suddenly the elves were simultaneously aware of some new sounds.  The sound of many feet moving towards the cemetery gate.  Likewise they could hear footsteps around the outside of the cemetery wall.  And then they heard the unmistakable sound of someone opening the cemetery gate.

Quickly they moved into better hiding spots.  The muttering man seemed unaware of the sounds for he continued to move steadily westward, bending low to the ground as he walked.  

Torches flared up suddenly around the cemetery wall and then a large group of men opened their lanterns within the cemetery.  The night was suddenly awash in light.  The elves guessed there might be about thirty human men within the cemetery and they could clearly see that the men were each armed with crossbows and staves.  The elves crouched, hardly daring to move for fear of being shot at.

The crowd of men moved quickly toward the cloaked figure at the North-western end of the cemetery.  The cloaked figure, raised himself up and threw off his hood, revealing to the elves that he was indeed, as they had guessed, a human;  albeit a  human with a dirty uncombed beard and wild eyes.  He dropped his tools and his eyes closed in resignation.

“Won’t they ever stop whispering,” he sighed as he was surrounded and then tied.

“There’s another one,” shouted one of the men, suddenly pointing towards where Hullifan was crouching behind a tombstone.  A group of about twenty men raised their crossbows and then raced towards the elf.

“Stop!” shouted Bare in panic leaping out of his excellent hiding spot.

“And there’s another one,” someone shouted in surprise.

“Surrender peacefully,” ordered the man in front as the flabbergasted elves found themselves suddenly surrounded by about twenty armed and angry humans.


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## Wicht (Dec 4, 2003)

*A quick stat update...*

*Bare Wancalein, Male High Elf Rgr2/Wiz1:*  CR 3; HD 2d8+1d4+4; hp 24; AC 16 (leather); Init +4; ATK +3 melee  (1d6+1 rapier) or +7 ranged (1d8 masterwork longbow); SQ Ranger Abilities; SV For +5, Ref +7, Will +5; ALI NG; Str 13, Dex 19, Con 15, Int 15, Wis 16, Cha 9.
...*Skills and Feats*:  Concentration +3, Craft (Bows) +7, Handle Animal +3, Heal +4, Hide +9, Knowledge (Nature) +8, Listen +10, Move Silently +9, Search +9, Spellcraft +3, Spot +13, Survival +8; Scribe Scroll, Track, Wild Empathy, Favored Terrain (forest)*, Rapid Shot, Tree Stepper*.
*Favored enemy:* Goblins
*Familiar:* Hawk - Cyarma

_Bare is an elf in love with the forest.  He is also fascinated with magic and hopes to one day be a powerful wizard._
* From the Heroes of High Favor: Elves book
**************************

*Hullifan Tarrinall, Male High Elf Brd2/Wiz1:* CR 3; HD 2d6+1d4; hp 11; AC 14 (leather); Init +2; Atk +3 melee (1d8+1 master work longsword) or +3 ranged (1d6+1 Mighty Composite short bow(+1 str)); SQ Bard Abilities; SV Fort +0, Ref +5, Will +6; AL NG; Str 13, Dex 15, Con 11, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 14.
...*Skills and Feats:* Appraise +6, Bluff +5, Concentration +5, Craft (musical instruments) +3, Craft (candy) +3, Decipher Script +7, Escape Artist +4, Gather Information +7, Hide +4, Jump +4, Knowledge (Arcana) +8, Listen +3, Move Silently +2, Perform +6 Search +4, Spellcraft +8, Spot +3, Use Magical Device +6; Combat Casting, Scribe Scroll, Point blank shot.

_Hullifan is driven by a love for ancient things, particularly those things magical.  He hopes with the proper training to one day be a renowned Arcanologist.  He has also developed quite an interest in the making of candies and hopes to learn the ancient elven art of making magical candies._


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## Lela (Dec 5, 2003)

Wicht said:
			
		

> _He has also developed quite an interest in the making of candies and hopes to learn the ancient elven art of making magical candies._



Like Brew Potion but with candy.  Now there's a good use for the different medium idea.

Very cool.  His idea?

Oh, and I'd love to see pictures.


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## Wicht (Dec 13, 2003)

*2.2*
“Stinking Elves,” muttered the man in charge, “Shoulda’ known they was tied up in this somehow.”

“But we are good,” Bare began protesting as the humans moved in to bind him and Hullifan.  Nearbye the other humans were working to tie up the whispering, muttering lunatic who had snuck into the graveyard with his shovel and pick in an apaprent attempt to dig somebody up.

“Shut yer mouth,” snapped one of the men to Bare, “and keep it shut.”

“Surrender peacefully,” yelled the one in charge, the local sheriff, apparently taking any protest by the elves as attempts to escape, “Kill them men if they try to escape.”

Escape seemed unlikely to Bare and Hullifan as they eyed the many loaded crossbows in the hands of the humans arresting them.  Even considering the fact that it was night, one or two out of the twenty men was all it might take hitting them to kill them. 

The sheriff, having yelled at the elves, swaggered over to the lone lunatic and making sure he was securely tied motioned for the men holding him to take him on out of the cemetery.  Then the sheriff slowly walked back over to the two elves who were putting up no resistance, much to his disappointment.  

“Who are you,” he asked Bare and Hullifan, “and what were you doing here with that lunatic?”

“Mmmmmm, mmmm mmmmm,” said Bare helpfully, keeping his mouth firmly shut as ordered.  Hullifan laughed.  

“Stinking elves,” cursed the sheriff with heat, “You’ll talk soon enough I figure.  Take them to the jailhouse with the other one.  We’ll let his lordship deal with them in the morning.”

Some of the men laughed cruelly and then uncaring fingers stripped the elves of their backpacks and their weapons.  The men were obviously not proffessionals however as they neglected to even glance in the belt pouches both elves wore.  Hullifan smiled to himself at this, for nestled asleep in one of his pouches was a poisonous snake named Shaba.

“We’ll see you hang as spies in the morning I warrant,” laughed one of the men as they began pushing the two elves in the direction of the cemeteries’ gate.     

“We’re not spies,” muttered Bare in protest.

“We were just here to look at a tombstone,” said Hullifan, but the men did not pay any attention to either of them.

The jail house, a whitewashed brick building, was located in the middle of the village.  It contained no windows and only a single heavy door.  The elves were escorted unceremoniously through this door and then into a cell.  The door of iron bars clanged shut behind them.  In the cell next to them, the only other cell in the building, they could hear the continued whisperings of the lunatic.

“I hear them still.  I can still hear them.  They’ll get me out.  You’ll see…”

Ignoring his mutterings, the elves began to observe their environment and their captors more closely.  The door to the street had led into a room, an office apparently of sorts, though the two cells actually made up the southern end of the room.  The cells were devoid of features, save for a bucket in each one.  Three walls of each cell were made of thick, solid bricks, but the northern end of each cell was walled off entirely with iron bars, and a door of bars.  Beyond the bars, the only furniture was a desk, filled with papers, a chair, a large wooden barrel probably used for trash, and a wooden coat rack near the door to the street.  

“Good work men,” the sheriff was saying on the other side of the bars to the many men filling the room, “We got us the crazies before they could do any of their fiendish plottings and we’ll burn those books in the morning by the light of the sun.  His lordship will be told and I imagine we’ll have us a trial and maybe a few hangings.  You all go on home and get some sleep, I’ll see you get your gold coin in the morning.”  

“Good night then Kyle,” said the men and the began to file out and through the door.  Soon the outer room was empty of all but the sheriff and two other men.

One of the men was holding the elves equipment.  He carried it out of the room through another door on the east side of the room, near the desk.  The elves watched their swords, bows and packs disappear out of sight.

Bare walked over to the bars of the cell and asked the sheriff with worry, “You are going to burn our books?  What books are you going to burn?”

“Oh so you admit those books are yours!  Poisoning the minds of our countrymen is what you are trying to do I’ll warrant.  We’ll burn all the evil books we found, don’t you worry.”

“No, we’re not evil.  We’re from the woods,” Protested Bare.

“So you admit your spies!”

“No!  We are here for our teacher.  We aren’t spies.”

The sheriff strode over and looked fiercely at Bare.  For a second silence filled the room and then disconcertingly the sound of the lunatic’s muttering suddenly filled the silence.

“The Dead!  The Dead!  I can hear them whispering to me.  The Dead.  Always whispering.  But I can hear them.  I can hear them telling me.  They won’t leave me.”

“What dead?” said Bare to the unseen lunatic.

“Shut up!” yelled the sheriff, suddenly drawing out his sword and hammering on the bars of the next cell with the hilt, “And you too elf, shut yer mouth.”

“I can’t take much more,” said the sheriff to the other man, “Lunatics, evil books, graveyards and elven spies.  I need some sleep.  Keep an eye things while I go lay down for a while.”

“Sure thing boss,” said the man sitting down at the chair by the desk, “Shouldn’t be no problem.”

The sheriff stomped off through the eastern door, further into the jail house.  Bare speculated to himself as to what lay on the other side of that door and then settled down against the back wall of the cell next to Hullifan to think.  

Time passed slowly for the elves and each one in the quiet of their own minds began to think of some way in which to escape.  Hullifan had after some thought settled on letting Shaba out of his pouch and allowing the snake to creep over to the guard and bite him.  His plan however required the man to fall asleep to be successful but the guard showed no sign of either weariness or a lack of diligence.  Bare had decided on a sleep spell at the opportune moment.

Bare had just about decided the men in the next room must be asleep and that it would be a good time to cast his sleep spell when the man in the next cell suddenly yelled out, “They are Coming!”

“They are coming!  I can hear them.  They are getting louder.  They are coming for me.  I hear them!”

A noise from the next room suggested the yelling had woken someone up.

“I hear them!  I hear them!”

Bare stood up as did Hullifan.  Both however remained towards the back of their cell.

“They are coming!  I can hear them telling me!”

The sheriff burst out of the other room, followed sleepily by the other man who had gone in there.

“What is this commotion about?” fumed the sheriff, “Some of us are trying to sleep Tranlen.  If you have to be a crazy can’t you be a quiet crazy?’

Seeing all three men in the room in front of him, Bare decided the moment was opportune.  Speaking softly and moving his hands as slightly as possible Bare slowly began casting his sleep spell.

“They are coming!”

There was a thud at the door, the sound of someone knocking heavily.  

Bare finished his spell, feeling the power move out of him.  Nothing happened though.  One of the men yawned but continued standing.  The sheriff blinked irritably.  There was another heavy knock at the door.

“They are coming!”

“See who that is,” said the sheriff to one of his men.

“Yes sir,”

“I can hear them!”

“Please be quiet Tranlen,” said the Sheriff exasperatedly and then turning to the elves, “And what are you two looking at?”

The sheriff’s man moved to open the door to the street.  Outside the street was filled with skeletons, still dripping with dirt and mud.  As one the skeletons began to press in through the door.

“They are here!” shrieked Tranlen the lunatic in ecstasy.


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## Wicht (Dec 17, 2003)

*2.3*
The skeletons pressed through the doorway, plowing into the unfortunate man who had opened it.  He tried to fight back but was torn apart in seconds by three of the undead monstrosities.  

“Give us the Keys!” shouted Bare clutching to the Bars of the cell.

“We’ll help you!” screamed Hullifan, “Let us out!”

But the sheriff and his remaining man did not heed the elves.  With eyes full of fear they fled across the room to other door, away from the skeletons and towards their weapons.

“Let us out!” yelled Bare as the skeletons chased the two men into the other room.  In the next cell Tranlen shrieked with joy and yelled incoherently.  

The sound of heavy fighting filled the air, accompanied by the shrieks of the two men.  There was a crash and another yell.  One of the men screamed.  More crashes followed, it sounded as if someone had thrown a chair.  The elves winced as another scream of horror and pain pierced the air.  And then there was silence.  

Slowly the skeletons filed out of the other room, blood now on their bony claws.  There were three less than had gone into the room, but that was small comfort to either Bare or Hullifan as they considered their own fate.

“Let me out,” cackled Tranlen, “Get the key!” One of the skeletons, complying, walked over to the dead man by the front door and reaching down it yanked the keys off of the dead man’s  belt.  The elves backed a little further into their cell, but the skeletons paid them no mind.  The skeleton, guided by the will of the lunatic had no desire for elvish blood.  The key turned and the other cell door opened.  Tranlen limped out of his cell, once more muttering to himself.

“I knew they would hear me, but I can still hear the others.  They are whispering to me.  I can hear them.  We must find them…”

Followed by the dozen or so skeletons the lunatic left the jailhouse.  They closed the door behind them, leaving the elves alone in the building.  Alone with three corpses.

Bare stared out between the bars at the keys that the skeletons had dropped on the floor after freeing Tranlen.  It was just out of his reach.  But Hullifan, it seemed, had things well in hand.  

“Shaba can get the key,” he said to Bare as he bent down and let his snake onto the floor, “Get the key Shaba.”  

The small reptile obediently glided across the stone floor and wrapping the end of its tail around the key ring it began to slowly crawl back to the elves.  

Bare watched Hullifan’s snake with a smile on his face.  And then he noticed something.  The dead man’s arm was moving, beginning to twitch.  At first Bare thought perhaps the skeletons had left the man barely alive, and then he realized with horror that the dark energies that had animated the skeletons somehow were going to animate the man’s corpse as well.

“Uh, Hullifan, you might want to hurry.”

Hullifan grabbed the key from his snake and then began to work the lock.  He looked over at where Bare was motioning and saw the corpse began to stand, blood still issuing from the mortal wounds that had killed him.  

“It’s a zombie now!” Hullifan gasped in horror as he unlocked the cell.  The cell door swung open.  

From the next room both elves suddenly heard the sound of more movement.  They realized to their chagrin that there were two more corpses in that room and that those corpses were obviously beginning to move now as well.  Hullifan wasted no time, sprinting out of the cell he ran to the open door leading to the next room and slammed it shut.  Before the door closed though he saw that his fears were correct.  The sheriff’s animated corpses was busy shambling around the room.

Bare, realizing he was weaponless stopped in the door of the cell and took stock of the situation.  He looked at the desk, the waste barrel, the coat rack and then at the zombie shambling meaningfully towards Hullifan.  

Hullifan saw the zombie coming at him as well and before the zombie could fully reach him the young elf dived over the nearby desk.  He sailed cleanly away from the zombie and over the desk.  But as he approached the floor on the other side he misjudged and came down hard on one shoulder.  Wincing, he rolled over onto his back and then struggled to his feet.

Bare meanwhile, as the zombie swung confusedly where Hullifan had just been standing rushed over to the side of the desk and picked up the waste barrel, a solidly bound wooden barrel made to hold about thirty gallons.  Swinging it up and over, Bare slammed it down on the zombie’s head, open end first.  He felt the impact of the barrel striking the zombie’s head and then he released the barrel and stepped back.  

The zombie floundered wildly, its vision obscured and it’s movements a bit hampered by having its arms squeezed together by the barrel.  Bare easily sidestepped the zombies feeble efforts to blindly strike at him.  

	As the zombie struggled to free itself from the confines of the barrel both elves took steps to arm themselves, no matter how crudely.  Hullifan rushed for the coat-rack.  Bare moved to grab the stout chair by the desk.  Bare being closer was able to attack first.  He swung the chair excitedly at the zombie but in his rush he struck at the barrel.  There was the hollow sound of wood striking wood and then the chair bounced away and the zombie staggered a bit.  The attack seemed to have done little however.

	The zombie finally managed to wiggle the barrel off its head, throwing it to the floor.  Even as the barrel bounced once across the room, Hullifan struck.  Swinging the oak coat rack like some elongated club he struck the zombie square across the side of its left arm.  The coat-rack broke, one particularly large piece of wood flew across the room, striking the wall.  The zombie howled mindlessly in aggravation.  The piece of wood left in Hullifan’s hand was about three feet long, perfect for a stout oak cudgel.

	Bare took the opportunity to swing at the zombie but his aim was completely off and the chair sailed harmlessly by the zombies back as the zombie moved with mindless aggression at Hullifan.  Hullifan, seeing sudden peril, stumbled backwards but was not quick enough.  The zombie’s fist connected with the side of Hullifan’s head and the elf momentarily saw stars.  

	In desperation, Hullifan swung his makeshift club up alongside the zombie’s head.  The head lolled sickeningly sideways.  Bare slammed the oak chair down on the zombie’s back.  The result being that the zombie turned in fury on Bare.  The sudden onslaught took Bare by surprise, but he managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, the zombie’s fist glancing off the elf’s shoulder.  Hullifan struck again at the zombie’s head.  The sound of the neck snapping was audible.  Bare swung the chair again.  It shattered this time as it struck the zombie in the face.  

	The zombie, blood trickling down its head in several places turned in mindless confusion towards Hullifan.  Hullifan promptly struck it again between the eyes.  Slowly the zombie crumpled to the ground, a ragged sigh of air escaping from its dead lungs.  

	The elves breathed heavily from their exertion.  

	As they stood still, gathering their wits, a dull thud echoed through the room, followed by another.  One of the zombies in the next room was attacking the door.  All their equipment, including their spell books was on the other side of that door.


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## Darklone (Dec 18, 2003)

Pressed thumbs for the kids over here! Teach them the rules how to survive a horror movie


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## Wicht (Dec 18, 2003)

Darklone said:
			
		

> Pressed thumbs for the kids over here! Teach them the rules how to survive a horror movie



A must for any child's education.

This was ostensibly our halloween game.  Whether they had the basics of survival down you’ll have to decide for yourself when we finish the chapter.


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## Lela (Dec 19, 2003)

Pressed Thumbs?

 I love those great moments where you are suddenly reminded that the players are under 12.  I hope this game goes for years and we get to see the characters develop along with your kids.  Personally, I think that would be fascinating.

 Also, that almost seemed straight out of a horror movie.  Nicely done.


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## Wicht (Dec 23, 2003)

*2.4*
Another thud sounded as one of the zombies in the other room continued to hammer on the door.  The door was good solid oak, reinforced with cross beams.  It would hold a while.  Unless of course the zombies figured out how to work the latch.  

Bare ran across the room and picked up the piece of wood that had flown off when Hullifan had shattered the coat rack across the first zombie.  It was two feet in length and would make a serviceable club.  Hullifan hefted his makeshift club and tried to psyche himself up to face the zombies on the other side.   

“What we need,” said Hullifan, looking at the barrel on its side across the room, “is two barrels.”

“It would be nice,” said Bare with a grin, remembering the success he had enjoyed with the barrel against the first zombie.

“We could go get another one somewhere in the village.”

“Yeah and then get thrown back in jail, no thanks.”

“Just a suggestion,” said Hullifan.

Bare moved across the room and picked up the barrel, “We can still use this one again.’

And then Bare went back to the door and lifted the latch.  He gave the door a nudge.  Immediately the zombie on the other side grabbed it and wrenched it open.  It was the sheriff’s animated corpse

“Bare!” shouted Hullifan in alarm.

Bare moved in towards the zombie and lifting the barrel he tried to bring the mouth down around the zombie.  The zombie moved its arm up instinctively and knocked the barrel away.  It fell from Bare’s hands, hitting the floor behind him with a clatter.  Hullifan tried to find an opening to swing his club but the zombie was moving too fast.  It lurched through the door and slammed into Bare, knocking him backwards.  

Hullifan, standing to the left of the door way could see into the other room.  Another animated corpse was lumbering towards the now open door.  

Bare, unaware of the fact that yet another foul corpse was about to try and join the fray, was finding one more than he could currently handle.  He struck feebly at the sheriff zombie with his club but it did no good.  The dead flesh felt no pain.  And then Hullifan slammed his club against the back of the zombie’s head.  The head lurched forward and the once sheriff swung around violently at Hullifan, arm outstretched.  Hullifan ducked easily under the arm and then timing his blow caught the zombie with a glancing blow across the chin.  

The other zombie meanwhile was engaging itself in a wrestling match with the door, which was partially in its way, and the door was losing.  Finally the undead monstrosity gave one final wrench and pulled the door off of the hinges and threw it out of its way.  

Bare meanwhile, now that the sheriff’s zombie had its back to him managed to bring his club down hard on the zombies head.  The dead sheriff turned towards Bare and Hullifan hit it smartly on the head as soon as it was facing the other way.  It turned around confused and Hullifan ducked again under its blow.  The other  zombie was now trying to reach past its one time boss to strangle Bare who backed easily out of the way.  

Outside, the noise of battle had attracted a neighboring villager.  Cautiously, this poor man opened the door, fearful of what he would see inside.

Bare struck the sheriff’s animated corpse again and then Hullifan clubbed it to the ground where it ceased moving.

“Help, they’re attacking the sheriff!” came the cry from the front of the room.  The villager looking in had seen just enough to be sure that two elves, having freed themselves from the prison had just killed the sheriff.  The villager turned and fled, crying out his alarm.

“But…” Hullifan said to the empty front door in protest.

And then the other zombie crashed into the room charging at Hullifan.  Bare swung as the zombie lurched past him, striking it uselessly on the shoulder.  Hullifan brought his club up into the zombies stomach.  It was a blow that would have doubled over a normal man.  The zombie barely staggered.  

The zombie suddenly lurched erratically and for some reason focused on Bare.  With arms outstretched it reached over to grab Bare.  Bare, panicking, swung wildly.  Hullifan swung at the zombie’s back but the creature ignored the blow.  The zombie, closing in on the elf, pummeled one fist hard down on the Bare’s shoulder.  The elves continued to try and beat at it.  Bare, feeling scared and desperate swung as hard as he could into the zombie’s chest.  Hullifan meanwhile was still striking futiley on the zombie’s back, doing no damage at all to it.

Bare struck the zombie again and then the zombie brought one unnaturally strong fist into the side of the elf’s head and Bare crumpled to the ground.  Immediately the zombie turned its attention onto Hullifan.

Hullifan brought his club up and struck the zombie across the cheek.  The zombie’s head snapped with the impact but the zombie moved just as relentlessly to kill the elf as before.  It paid no mind to Bare, who still conscious, though only barely, had managed to roll away from the melee and pull a flask from his belt pouch.  

Bare opened the top of the flask and painfully swallowed the contents.

The zombie swung mightlily at Hullifan who dodged nimbly aside.  Then Hullifan, sensing an opening swung hard at the zombies head.  There was a crack and the zombie’s nose bent at an unnatural angle.  The zombie swung again and again Hullifan ducked the blow.  

And then Bare, once more on his feet, albeit barely, brought his club down hard on the top of the zombie’s head.  

The zombie collapsed unmoving to the ground.


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## Lela (Dec 24, 2003)

Okay, that's one of those times where I, as a player, look around in panic.  Also one of those times where I, as a DM, squeal gleefully.


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