# The Heroes of Icemist (SmallBeginnings 2)- Interlude update 2/21/2008!



## Enk&D'Shai

Hello everyone and welcome to Small Beginnings: Heroes of Icemist. The continuing story of how I mess with the minds of my players. 

Stop that, and read the real title, you.

That is the real title..see look at the script.

Well I’ll be... Wait! Who approved this script?

The board of directors and our producers. 

Board of… what are you talking about? We don’t have directors _or_ producers! 

Yeah right, just because you don’t attend shareholder meetings doesn’t mean we aren’t taking this business forward. Now read your lines like a good lackey.

I’ll deal with you in a moment… Anyway, if you haven’t read Small Beginnings, the first part of this little story, we - the _writers_ - recommend that you start there if you are new to the story hour and our writing antics. 

But, even if this is your first trip down the guided tour of how I make Enk suffer...

Hey!

...feel free to jump in and enjoy as we once again begin our trade. To our loyal readers we would also like to apologize for the long delay and hope our work makes up for any inconvenience. 

Don’t forget the Tip of the Day.

This Tip is dedicated to my Mother who always accepted my habit of gaming and often supplied the food for me and my demented friends. 

If you ever convince your players that the freezer is a photocopier you should probably let your mom know so she won’t be surprised when she finds blank character sheets on top of the ice. Yes,  Mom I put the dog out and I will always miss you. 


****

*Letters from Home*, or *Dear Abbie Aurora*


Greetings to you Aurora, and good tidings from the Hillshire.

As I sit here, warming my old bones in front of a new fire, I find myself at something of a loss. Last evening, when Ander arrived at the Shimmering Sword with Ashrem in tow and your owl on his arm, I must admit that I was excited at the prospect of news from you and from Tor; perhaps not as excited as Pack – I was not the one that tackled the young man when he first produced your letters – but excited nonetheless. Yet, as the evening closed with yet another reading of your letter to Pack to all who would listen, when I began putting ink to paper I found myself unable to say anything more than what I said to you before you left. So, rather than boring you with the same long lectures I gave when you set out for your second chance at the Academy, I will keep this short. 

It is wonderful to hear that your studies go well, and I trust that much of that is due to your new mentor. He struck me as a good man, and one that knew how to handle the sorts of attention that one of your rather unique talents can attract. I tried to impress upon him how important you are to all of us here in Icemist before you departed, and I hope he is treating you as well as we all would wish.

This spring I plan on visiting Tor long enough to transfer title of the Hillshire to my nephew and see my father-in-law. I have not yet been to see him since his elevation to Abbot. Perhaps, in between all these more tedious matters, you would permit an aging man to give you a tour of the city as he saw it when he was young. 

One last thing lass. As I said before you left, if you need anything, do not hesitate to go to the Temple of Zuras and tell them I sent you. They will do what they can. 

Be well, and may Zuras strike you with as much joy as you can bear,

Theobald Hillshire




Greetings Aurora!

This is the second letter I’ve written to you tonight, because Ander said that mine was too long and would be too heavy for your owl to carry back. I told him I would take out the reference maps I made, but that only brought it down to about 20 pages. Then I said I’d take out some of my stories, like when Worm won the wrestling contest, and when we presented Cris with the money to buy enough food for the winter (you know, from when we sold all the weapons and things we brought back – can you believe what metal is worth since the war?), and when we had a parade through the new square. Well, I was going to take that out anyway, after I remembered that you were here for that. So I’m just going to write a new one and make everything fit.

How is Tor? I know what you put in my letter, and in Ashrem’s and Theo’s too (Ander wouldn’t let me see his – what did you write him that he couldn’t show me?), but what’s it like really. 

You should have seen

Sorry about that. Ander just asked me to collect everyone’s letters so he can send them, and I just want to make two things clear. Ashrem seems really upset about not being able to send you a proper gift, I guess this patron thing is really important to him, and I did not tackle Ander when he came in the door. I just thought you should know that.

It looks like I have to hurry, because Ander and Ashrem are getting ready to leave. Everyone here really misses you. I hope you can visit soon. Oh! Or maybe we can visit with Theo!

Love from everyone!

Roscoe P Tosscobble     

PACK


PS: I almost forgot! I got to be the master of ceremonies at the end of Festival. I got to eat as much food as I wanted, tell stories, and everyone listened to me sing the song I wrote about what we all did. You really missed it!

PPS: I really didn’t tackle Ander. I don’t care what Theo wrote. He slipped. I just happened to e standing next to him when he did. 

PPPS: Do you think you can bring me back something from Tor? Maybe a map of the city, or a story? And, if you get a chance can you go by an inn called the Feathered Serpent? Caine Freeport – he’s the best storyteller alive – owns it, and it would be wonderful if you could tell him about my song. Don’t forget that it’s a true story, that makes it better!

PPPPS: What’s wrong with Ander? He won’t let me read his letter back to you. Are you two talking about me?

PPPPPS: I’m a little worried about Theo. When he comes to visit do you think you can get him to talk about what’s bothering him? He won’t around here.


PPPPPPS: One more thing. Would you mind if Worm and I came and visited you over the summer? I think he’s still a little bit sore over being left behind, and I thought I could make it up to him if we visited a big city.

PPPPPPPS: Are you sure you and Ander aren’t talking about me in those letters? He’s giving me a mean look right now.


***

In loving memory of PW.


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## Rel

*does a little dance of joy and is secretly glad no one is here to see him do it*

Good to have you back, boys.  I'm ready to settle in for the duration.

Let em' rip!


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## Dungannon

w00t!!!

To quote Thin Lizzy, "The Boys Are Back In Town!!"

I eagerly await the next installment.


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## Dubya

Woo Hoo.

Glad to see you back.  I'm in for the duration as well.

Dubya


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## Rel

Dubya said:
			
		

> Woo Hoo.
> 
> Glad to see you back.  I'm in for the duration as well.
> 
> Dubya




See, guys?  Your readership might be small, but it's illustrious!


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## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *does a little dance of joy and is secretly glad no one is here to see him do it*
> 
> Good to have you back, boys.  I'm ready to settle in for the duration.
> 
> Let em' rip!




Don't forget the map, you'll need it!


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## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Don't forget the map, you'll need it!




I shall consult it regularly and with vigor!


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## The Axe

*Small?*



			
				Rel said:
			
		

> See, guys?  Your readership might be small, but it's illustrious!




I dunno; I'm a pretty big guy...


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## Rel

The Axe said:
			
		

> I dunno; I'm a pretty big guy...




You're from Texas so of course.


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## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> See, guys?  Your readership might be small, but it's illustrious!




I don't know, we did have over 15,000 views on the other thread.  I thought that was pretty good for as many posting delays and gaps there were due to life happening.


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## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> I don't know, we did have over 15,000 views on the other thread.




Most of them were me.


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## Fulcan

Rel said:
			
		

> Most of them were me.




If it'll help get more story hour written, I'll admit to having a few of those views also.

Great to see you guys back in action.


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## HULK

HULK happy to see story hour back!!

But, HULK not dance like Rel.  

HULK thank fett for map.  HULK try to find Icemist.

No tell (dead)Wire about new story hour.


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## Jon Potter

Rel said:
			
		

> Most of them were me.




I don't think that's entirely accurate. It's clear that most of those were me.


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## Enkhidu

If I didn't know better, I'd say we were missed. 

I'm going to take a moment to talk about a few things here, to prep you for _That which is to come_, (coming soon to a theater near you).

As many of you know, Small Beginnings was an exercise D'Shai and I undertook that took on a life of its own. And it was fun, no doubt about that. But, by and large, Small Beginnings was built on someone else's work (the module, silly!). Yes, the milieu was original (and one that D'Shai's been carrying around in his head in one form or another for about 25 years, 20 of which that made it a campaign world), as were the characters (though when I look at it, I can't help but see the stamp that our group's collected bank of PCs, pop culture, and our love of sci-fi , fantasy, and comics has wrought). But plot wise, the events of that story were predetermined by the site based module.

That isn't to say that D'Shai didn't put his own twist on the thing - while I've seen plenty of instances of Meepo as sidekick, almost nobody has Balsag as anything other than a lietenant of the BBEG. And, as you will see in the future, things in Icemist really do fit into the big picture. 

But, things are about to change...

I've always felt particularly blessed that I don't really have more than a handful of gaming horror stories - over the years, we've weeded out gamers that don't add something to our game - and I think that shows in what you've seen so far. Our group, by and large, really likes to create and play three dimensional PCs (even our resident 'kick in the door' has a bit of the actor and narrativist in him), and the intra PC play you've seen in dialogue and action is, in many cases, only very slightly embellished from the actual table talk. In short, we've got a table full of pretty dang good players. But non of that would be possible without our long term DM. And what you're going to see over the next few months is a filtered glimpse of what our gaming experience is really like; more importantly, you're going to get a chance to see D'Shai shine. 

So consider this fair warning, the plot is going to get thick: conflicts will rage, herrings will be red, betrayals we be made, allies will be numerous, enemies legion, and the b*stards that we can't figure out will be, uh, whatever comes after legion. So be sure to buy a program, you'll never keep track of who's doing what to whom and why if you don't have a program. 

And as always, enjoy.

Oh! And look for another pre-update this week!


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## Rel

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> I don't think that's entirely accurate. It's clear that most of those were me.




But that would make you...me...

No wonder I like you so much, Jon!


Enk, I can't wait to see what comes next.  As brilliant a job as you guys did with a fairly generic, pre-packaged module, I'm ready to see what you can do with home grown material!

"Drippin' Ready" as the dairy farmers say.


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## Ashy

WOO HOO!!!  Ashy's here as well!!!


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

As someone else who really enjoyed your first outing - and who probably viewed it almost as often as Rel, even if I didn't comment therein - may I add my cry of "Welcome back!". I liked what you did to the SC, and I'm looking forward to seeing waht original material you come up with.



			
				Rel said:
			
		

> "Drippin' Ready" as the dairy farmers say.




  :\ 

They may ... but I really wish you hadn't.


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## Black Bard

*Back on Track!*

I bet you all thought I didn't make it out of the Sunless Citadel as the others kids, hah?
But, here I am!!!! Ready to rumble with the Old Team!!!!  

And I'm so glad D'Shai and Enk finally managed to continue writing the adventures of our most intrepid Heroes of Icemist!!! Can't wait to see how they've been faring...

And Happy Easter to all Role-Playing families!!!


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## fett527

Black Bard said:
			
		

> And Happy Easter to all Role-Playing families!!!




Same to you Black Bard!

Nice to see others checking in as well!


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## fett527

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> That isn't to say that D'Shai didn't put his own twist on the thing - while I've seen plenty of instances of Meepo as sidekick, almost nobody has Balsag as anything other than a lietenant of the BBEG. And, as you will see in the future, things in Icemist really do fit into the big picture.




Did anybody else do Meepo as a Barbarian/



Spoiler



madeyoulook


?  I don't think so.


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## Enk&D'Shai

Cracker Jack.

Fiddle Faddle.

Cracker Jack!

Fiddle Faddle!

Toy surprise!

Bigger box!

Oh wait, how do the lyrics go? "Buy some peanuts and CRACKER JACK..."

You know, I don't care if you ever come back.

That's it, you forced me to do this. Cracker Jack never played a pivotal role in a movie featuring Mr. T as the bearded lady.

...

...

Damn, man, that's messed up.

Tip o' the day: Playing with the thesaurus and Babelfish can be fun!


*****

*Interlude*

Aurora grimaced as the parchment crumpled and creased, her trembling hands trying and failing to affix a proper seal on the missive. With a sigh, the sorceress unrolled the parchment and smoothed it flat on the stone bench. Before trying again, this time more calmly, her fingers brushed the folded letters in her pocket that she had just received from her winged companion; letters from steadfast friends that calmed her nerves as if their authors stood at her side. For a moment, she considered reading them a second time, but the looming shadows grew as the sun began setting, and Aurora feared that she would not be safe once day turned to night. Her nerves calmed, she quickly rolled the parchment, set a seal to it, and placed it in her feathered messenger’s letter harness. 

“Athena,” the sorceress said as she stroked the snow bird’s plumage, “I know you are tired from your latest flight, but I need you to deliver this message to Ander quickly.”

The tilted head and long stare communicated the owl’s feeling as effectively as the arcane bond that connected the two. 

“I will be fine,” Aurora protested as much for her own benefit as that of her familiar. “There hasn’t been a killing in the last week and I promise that I will head home as soon as the snow thaws. Til then my hiding place at the inn will have to do. Besides I don’t think whoever killed Highmaster Schok is coming back for me.” Aurora let the words hang in the air. _This sounded more convincing when I said it to myself yesterday._ “Look, Ander and the others need to know what’s going on. They need to know that I didn’t do it! So please…go.”

The sorceress watched the great owl ruffle its feathers with an accusing stare, and for a moment, she thought her familiar would disobey her. But the owl flexed its wings, and hopped off its perch, circling once in the cold breeze and then disappearing over the city walls leaving the red haired girl alone in the public gardens as the sun dipped below Tor’s building rich horizon. Pulling her cloak tighter about her shoulders, Aurora patted the letters once more for comfort and began the short trek back to the inn where she could settle into her room and read the winter news from her friends and pretend that she was safe at home in Icemist instead of hidden away in an increasingly unfriendly city. 

It had been a dream made real that she had been offered a chance to return to the academy, made more miraculous that the offer came from Highmaster Schok himself, who had heard of her unique talents on his visit to Icemist during Festival. She could not have asked for a better life: she excelled at her studies by day and toured the city by night, enjoying both the grudging respect of her instructors and the revelry of big city life. Aside from the absence of her new friends, she could not have asked for anything more: until the day that she returned from her classes to find her Master brutally murdered. 

The shock of his death was like a blow to her belly. In the short time since she had arrived in Tor, Master Schok had become like an uncle to her. And, when the lower Masters, who saw her gifts – not granted through study but from within - as little more than abomination, it had been his influence alone that had kept her safe within the Academy walls. Without his protection the lower Masters moved against her, stripping her of the rights of inheritance; soon after the Academy’s halls filled with whispers that Highmaster Schok had died at her tainted hand.

Fearing the worst, Aurora fled. Copying as best she could the lessons learned from Ashrem, the young scholar quickly disguised herself and drifted into the slums, finally coming to rest in a hovel of an inn. Since then, four more Highmasters had been murdered, each with links to Master Schok, sending the Academy into an uproar as new accusations led to other suspects. Yet, even with new suspects, she thought it best to continue her hiding, at least until the snows melted and she could make her way back to Icemist. 

A hushed voice broke her reverie, “Aurora.” 

The not quite but almost familiar tone of the voice startled the young sorceress sending tingles of energy racing through her hands in preparation for either fight or flight, but as she turned the sight of a olive skinned face caught her even more off guard. 

“Ander!” Overjoyed, the sorceress’ feet flung her at toward the woodsman’s outstretched arms. “Thank the gods it’s you! I just sent Athena to find you! Are the others with you? And how did you ever make it through the snow?” 

Aurora wrapped her arms around the young man’s trim waist and buried her face in his neck. The young maiden had so many more questions, but for the first time in a very long while she felt safe. For a long moment, she held him in near silence, the only sound a satisfied sigh that escaped the sorceress’ lips. 

“You haven’t answered my question,” she finally asked as she lifted her head. The warrior’s coal black eyes, flinty and aloof, stared back at her. 

In the growing darkness, the muffled cry went unnoticed.

*End of Interlude*

*****

Next time: "Wanted, Dead or Alive," or "How much is the reward again?"


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## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> In the growing darkness, the muffled cry went unnoticed.




Woo, only the second update and already there's sex! 

Or something.


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## HULK

HULK think 'Ander' is not real Ander.  

Real Ander would not hurt Aurora.

Rel's mind in gutter.


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## Rel

HULK said:
			
		

> Rel's mind in gutter.




Alas, it has ever been thus...


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## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Alas, it has ever been thus...




Naughty, naughty.


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## Dawn

Whoa!  First entry and there is already a suspenseful ending.  Got us hooked and wanting more already.

Good to be back with our favorite red-headed heroine.


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## Rel

Dawn said:
			
		

> Whoa!  First entry and there is already a suspenseful ending.  Got us hooked and wanting more already.
> 
> Good to be back with our favorite red-headed heroine.




Hey, it's Dawn!

Good to see you on the boards (though perhaps you've been here and I just haven't been hanging out in the right places) and I feel I'd be remiss if I didn't extend an invitation to the next NC Game Day coming up on April 23.  If you can make it down from Charlotte we'd love to have you.  The link's in my .sig.


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## Dawn

Hey Rel.  Good to be back on the boards from long time away.  Checked out the Game Day site and now I have to check the calendar.

Still anticipating another update!


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## fett527

Dawn said:
			
		

> Hey Rel.  Good to be back on the boards from long time away.  Checked out the Game Day site and now I have to check the calendar.
> 
> Still anticipating another update!




Nice to see you back Dawn.  I missed seeing your avatar.


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## Dawn

fett527 said:
			
		

> I missed seeing your avatar.




That's what they all say!

Sorry for the hijacking.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled Story Hour.


<Fett527 - This is where you provide us with an update.>


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## fett527

Dawn said:
			
		

> <Fett527 - This is where you provide us with an update.>




Well, my son is just over 10 months old now.  He crawls like mad and is on the verge of walking....wait I guess that's not what you meant.  

Unfortunately, I do not control when the updates go up, that is up to Enkhidu and dshai527.  I am also waiting on dshai527 to get me more material for the Rogue's Gallery.  So, you best get on their cases to keep things moving along.


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## HULK

HULK lift story hour back to first page!


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## dshai527

Sorry for all the delays everyone. We have gotten a little behind schedule with our old friend "life" popping up again. I started a new job and they are sending me outta town for a little while and Enk has been battling "life's" sidekick "sickness." Everyone is doing well though and we should have something up soon. I know I haven't posted pics up yet of little Aurora (That's what we'll call her til she can pick her own name, but she does already have her own stuffed 20 sided. See you soon.


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## dshai527

Here is the pic


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## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Here is the pic




She's darling.  I know I've already said it before but congratulations again.

And don't worry about the Story Hour.  We'll be here when you're ready to post.  I think that's pretty obvious from the responses in this thread so far.

In the mean time, take it easy, relax, maybe go read somebody else's story hour...


(I'm such a whore)


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## Dawn

Where did you get that stuffed 20-sided?  I want one for myself!


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## Jon Potter

Rel said:
			
		

> In the mean time, take it easy, relax, maybe go read somebody else's story hour...
> 
> 
> (I'm such a whore)




Technically, I think that makes you a pimp.


But I'm not gonna quibble.

And Like Rel said, 'Take your time. We'll be here when you're ready.'


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## fett527

Dawn said:
			
		

> Where did you get that stuffed 20-sided?  I want one for myself!




It was purcahsed in a store in Tennessee called Gameboard I believe (correct if I'm wrong dshai527).  It's a pretty cool gaming store in a normal mall.  They have all kinds RPGs, board games, miniatures, dice, puzzles and the like.  And he bought the last one because my son would have had one had he not.

And since we're posting pics (this was taken in February at 9 months):


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## Tamlyn

That d20 is extremely cool! I need to get one to keep my 18 month-old out of my minis. 

By the way, I too thoroughly enjoyed the previous SH and am very excited to see what I can steal and throw at my victims, errr... players!

~Tam


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## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> That d20 is extremely cool! I need to get one to keep my 18 month-old out of my minis.
> 
> By the way, I too thoroughly enjoyed the previous SH and am very excited to see what I can steal and throw at my victims, errr... players!
> 
> ~Tam




Welcome aboard Tamlyn, always great to get responses from new readers!


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## dshai527

Okay, so I was sitting in my hotel room in St. Louis and decided to get some writing done and this is what I came up with.

"Enk is stupid."

So I send it off to Enk to see what he thinks and this is what he says.

"I think I remember it more like this, 'D'Shai is really stuid!'"

I look it over and decide that it doesn't fit the character voice as we have established thus far and change it to..."Enk is incredibly stupid!" This looks right so I send it off to Fett for a proof read and second opinion and this is his response to Enk and myself.

"That about covers what happened, but it should be expanded with examples like..'Enk is incredibly stupid because he hangs around with D'Shai!'"

And after much debate we would post....."Enk is stupid!"
End of story. 

This isn't what happened, but it is close to what really happens. hehe


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## Enk&D'Shai

D'Shai, they aren't going to call.

Of course they will.

No, they won't.

Yes, they wil.

Look, can we argue about this later? We've got a post to make.

I've got an opening at 8:22 tomorrow.

Alright, that's another notch on the HATE-O-METERTM. Anyway... Hi folks! Here's something you've probably been waiting for: another post.

And if you haven't been, please don't tell us. Enk's frail ego couldn't take another blow of cold reality this week.

I hate you

What?

Nothing.

Anyway, they're going to call.

D'Shai, you're old, overweight, and out of shape. They are not going to call.

Yes they will.

Just do the TotD.

Tip o' the Day: Anybody can declare themselves eligible for the NFL draft.

And on with the show!


*****


Ander grimaced as he rubbed his leg and swore softly to himself. _Bones, but its been a long while since I’ve spent this much time in the saddle_, he thought as he slowly settled himself on the hard packed earth.  The woodsman looked around at the still growing throng of people, shambling sleepily about as they emerged from wagons and tents still in the shadow of Tor’s great wall, and sighed. _Still, a month on horseback will be worth it if we can get inside these walls today and find her_. 

A now familiar chorus of snorts brought him back to the present, and he turned to glance at Worm and Pack. The two slept soundly together, Pack’s curly halfling head resting on his adopted brother’s half-orc bicep. Ander stifled a chuckle at the scene, partly because the halfling’s choice of pillows was larger around than Pack himself, but mostly because - of the pair - the smaller of the two provided the larger of the snores. Not too far distant, Brother Theo sat in silent prayer. And, as he had every morning since the companions entered the lowlands of Tor, Ashrem had disappeared before sunrise to keep up his appearance as a wandering beggar. 

For a long moment, the woodsman relaxed – the companions’ morning ritual had grown comfortable for the young man – but, when he felt his thigh twinge again, he reluctantly moved to correct the problem. Kicking his legs out in front of him, he stretched, unsuccessfully biting back a painful grunt.

“Oh you poor young man,” said an elderly woman passing by in the morning light. “Are you alright?”

Ander gave the old woman a half smile as he waved her away. “Yes, _Avó_,” he said, using the old Ionian term of respect. “Just tired and sore from riding.”

The old woman smiled a wrinkly smile and started away. Ander watched her for a moment; _I wonder how Grandmother is doing?_ She suddenly turned over her shoulder, “You look familiar, young man. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I’m afraid not, _Avó_.” Seemingly satisfied by the woodsman’s answer, the old woman disappeared behind a wagon. Half a heartbeat later, Ander heard Ashrem’s whisper from behind him.

“Ander, all the gates are as the main gate here: crowded, well guarded, and under close inspection. I shall have to find another way in, perhaps after nightfall.” The scout paused. “I also suggest that I take your armaments with me to keep them from being confiscated. My… ‘enhancements’ to everyone’s travel papers were adequate for the patrols in more outlying regions, but I doubt my dabbling will endure the scrutiny of the trained eyes of the gate watch.”

Ander nodded in agreement, “Understood. Let’s do it now while everyone else is still busy waking up. Can you get Brother Theo while I take care of these two?” The woodsman rose gingerly to his feet and toed first Pack and then Worm. “Time to get up. Ashrem needs our weapons so we don’t get them taken away when we go in,” he said in low tones.

Pack yawned in response, and silently began rummaging through his rucksack, but Worm gave a haughty sniff as he stood. “Hold on Pack,” he said, a little louder than the woodsman liked, “You want us to do what?”

“Give your weapons to Ashrem. If not, there’s a good chance they’re going to confiscate them at the gate.”

“You want us to go into Tor – Tor! -  with no weapons, to find a girl who we know is in trouble, and who, for all we know, might be wanted for killing someone? Oh, that’s smart.” Worm looked to be on the verge of a belly laugh. “Anyway, I’d like to see some puny watchmen try to take this without my say so!” The half-orc brandished his weapon, a club that was more tree trunk than truncheon.

“I don’t think they will, Worm,” rumbled Theo as he joined the conversation with Ashrem, looking somewhat helpless, in tow. “I’d say your club won’t cause any more stir than you will. Ander’s staff will be fine as well. It’s iron that they are interested in. The capitol is still reeling from a steel shortage since the Daltowers closed their forges to the surface.”

“Which means your armor would be the first to go, Theo,” Ander interrupted, trying to stop the ever louder conversation before it drew even more unwanted attention. “So we’re in agreement – Ashrem will find a way in by himself with everything they’d confiscate so we’ll have it all on the inside. Right?”

“Bah!” Worm said as he walked away, obviously disinterested in the topic knowing he would still be armed. Theo, however, crossed his arms and peered relentlessly at the woodsman and scout. 

“Ander, I agreed to the phony papers to get us through the countryside. Everyone knows that the Dukes and Barons are rotten to the core. But this is Tor, and if the King has decided that his armies need good armor and weapons, then it’s our duty to give them when asked.”

“Look Theo…”

“I also don’t like the idea that Ashrem needs to sneak into town like some criminal. I understood when he disguised himself in the country so as not to scare the folk who couldn’t tell him from a demon, but there is a feloine embassy here! Why should he keep doing now?”

Ander glanced at the scout, who gave a slight shake of his head and closed his sad, feline eyes as he moved a few paces away. Ander sighed and spoke softly: “There’s a lot about Ashrem you don’t know, Brother, and it’s not my place to tell you. Just trust me – and trust him - for now. As for the King? I think we did our part for his armies with what we donated last fall. We’ve done enough.” He paused for a moment, “And if Aurora is in as much trouble as I think she might be, I’d rather be prepared for fight."

The woodsman watched as the priest's emotions played across his face. Then, with a scowl, the older man turned and began removing his aketon as he made his way to the rest of his armaments. Ander ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes.

He stood there for a moment, rubbing his temple with his right hand, until he felt Ashrem’s presence behind him. "I will need your equipment as well, Ander," the scout said. A moment later he added, "I overheard your reply to Brother Theo's objection to my subterfuge. I appreciate your trust."

"You should tell the others, Ash." Ander said quietly as he shrugged off his studded leather jerkin. “A secret like that’s going to come out eventually.”

“Perhaps.” Ander could hear the regret in the scout’s voice, and turned to look at his friend.

“People have done worse, Ash,” he said as he locked eyes with the feloine. An uncomfortable silence followed.

"Brother Theo's anger is well placed.” Ander was almost glad for Ashrem’s change of subject. “I am glad I did not mention the fact that it was his stories of his time guarding these walls that will enable me to sneak through tonight."

"I think it would be best if you never mention that," the young man said with a smile.  “We’ll meet you at the inn later?"

“I will arrive at the Golden Gander not long after sunset,” said Ashrem as Ander’s armor disappeared into the scout’s magical bag, “assuming, of course, that Brother Theo’s stories prove still true.”

“Stay careful.”

“You as well. I overheard your conversation with the old woman. It may be best not to use native Ionian when the truce between this country and that is so fragile.”

"
Don't worry, I'll let Pack do the talking."

"You say that as if you had a choice in the matter," said the feloine with a smile in his eyes; and with that, he was gone.

_See you on the inside, my friend._


***


“What do you see, Pack?” 

The bard, from his perch atop his brother’s shoulders, shaded his eyes from the noonday sun. “Not much more than last time, Ander,” he said. “Or the time before that. It’s like the line hasn’t moved since this morning.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Ander. 

Theo rumbled a reply from the rear: “Looks like things don’t change. My guess is that the only people getting in today are ones willing to pay a little extra to whoever’s on duty. It was always against regulations, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Wait!” said Pack, “I think I see something!”

“What?” 

“Oh, it’s just another wagon cutting in front. Never mi… whoa!”

“That’s it!” growled Worm as he pushed past Ander, nearly knocking the young man off his feet. The huge half-orc plowed into the crowd, leaving a gap behind him. “Everybody move!” he roared. Unsurprisingly, the crowd did as ordered, leaving Ander and Theo scrambling to lead the companions’ horses through the hulking warrior’s wake.

“Impatient young fellow, isn’t he?” said Theo.

“I guess so,” Ander replied. The woodsman heard a shout from up ahead, and craned his neck to see Worm lift a yelling, red faced man and toss him casually aside, stopping only to bellow, “Everybody means you too!”

The rest of the companions’ journey to the front of the line was short. Ander could hear Theo rumbling half hearted apologies along the way to everyone within shouting distance. _Blood and ashes, but I’m glad we’re not trying to be quiet about this…_ The woodsman had fallen slightly behind, coaxing Theo’s horses forward in the tumult as he led his own skittish mares. 

When Worm threaded his way between two wagons, only one of which he had upended, Ander realized the horses would never make it through the opening. “Theo!”  Go ahead and make sure Worm doesn’t do anything that might get him killed! I’ve got the horses!” 

“On my way, boy!” Theo cried, handing the reins to the younger man and trotting ahead.

Ander slowly worked his way around the jam, alternately calming the horses and shoving past stunned onlookers. Sweat and grime covered his body by the time he finally looked upon the gates. He saw Theo, standing next to one of the guards, point in his direction. “That’s him, sir.,” he said loudly. “You can see his papers same as the rest of us as soon as he gets here.” As the ranger came near, Theo shot him a warning glare.

“That won’t be necessary,” said the guard, with a glance at a guard leaning heavily against the wall. The guard had a dirty Worm sized boot print on his chest. “Just move along. Now.” He waved another guard forward to help usher the horses through. Ander noticed that as this helper moved among the horses, he made a point to quickly pat down saddlebags, obviously looking for things to confiscate. He hadn’t found any by the time Ander made it through the gates with the horses in tow.

As a boy, Ander had been to Ion, the shining capitol of the south. At the time he thought it magnificent, but it paled in comparison to the beauty that was Tor. It lay nestled in a sloping valley encircling a single hill on which stood the castle proper; its polished white stones shining like a beacon. The city itself was cut into two by a mighty river which cut around the southern side of the castle hill. According to Theo’s tales, the Noble quarter lay to the north, where the rich and powerful had direct access to the castle and its protections, while Old City to the south, full of impressive stone buildings in sad repair, was as ferry ride away. After a moment, he realized he had been holding his breath.

“So this is Tor,” he hard Worm say. A glance in the half-orc’s direction showed the same awe Ander imagined on his own face a moment before. Pack, still atop his brother’s shoulders, had let his jaw drop. The woodsman imagined that it would not soon close.

“That it is, boys,” said Theo. “This place brings back memories.”

For a while, the companions stood silently, a rock in the middle of a stream of men and women entering the city and going about their business. Theo broke the silence. “I should go now,” he said, “like we planned yesterday. My father in law is influential enough he should be able to help us get to the bottom of Aurora’s troubles.”

“And then you’ll meet us at the inn?” asked Pack.

“Yes, sometime this evening. Probably late, but not too much after sunset. I won’t be able to catch the ferry back after dark anyway. Oh, I’ll take the horses too. Last I heard, an old friend of mine inherited his father’s stables, and I’d just as soon get the horses squared away with him.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ander heard himself say as he handed the reins to Theo. “Aurora and the rest of us will see you tonight.” 

As the priest disappeared into the crowds, Worm began to chuckle. “Well, let’s get started!” he said, “we’ve got a city to see!”


***


Ander stood in the empty street under the slowly swinging sign. The blackened and sooty carving of a yellow goose squeaked and squawked in the light wind, the only remaining marker of the inn he had sought since he left Icemist. The charred husk of the Golden Gander lay in heaps and piles, and the ranger could still smell the stink of smoke.

Beside him, Worm grunted, “Looks like we’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.” The woodsman nodded in silent agreement, too numb to do anything else. _Where are you? _

“She’s alright, isn’t she Ander?” Pack whispered. “She has to be!”

“Can’t very well stay here, can we?” the half-orc continued. Ander didn’t answer. _She has to be!_

“Ander,” said Pack, “I’m going to go find out when this happened. OK?” Ander nodded again, his eyes still fixed on the wreckage. 

Worm raised his voice, “Pack, why are you always asking for permission from him?” Out of the corner of his glassy eye, Ander saw Worm jerk a thumb in his direction. “You know it’s a good idea, just do it!”

“Worm! Can’t you see…”

“Bah! I’m going to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight!” With that, the half-orc stomped away back the way the trio had come. 

Pack moved toward Ander, “Don’t pay attention to him, Ander, he’s just…”

“He’s just right Pack. You’d better go. I’ll stay here.”

Pack gave the woodsman a quizzical look, but trotted off down the street, leaving Ander in solitude. _You’re not dead!_  For how long he stood alone, he did not know. _I’d know if you were dead! _

When Pack returned sometime later, he wore a worried look and carried a rolled parchment. “Ander, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Remember the killings that Aurora told us about? The ones she was worried they were going to accuse her of? The city watch doesn’t want her for them.”

“Tell me the bad news.”

“Who they do want,” said the bard as he handed the parchment to the young man. Ander unrolled it to look at his own face. 

“They want you.”


*****


----------



## Rel

Sweet!  It's an enigma wrapped in a connundrum!


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> Sweet!  It's an enigma wrapped in a connundrum!




Look! A confusing canole!


----------



## Tamlyn

Very nice. Way to keep them on their toes. How did this come across at the table. Were you able to drop this on them at the end of the session to really keep them squirming for a few days?

~Tam


----------



## Dungannon

Yah!!  An update!!  With an interesting plot twist, too. 

And don't worry D'Shai, if Clarett can get drafted in the 3rd round, anything's possible.


----------



## fett527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> And don't worry D'Shai, if Clarett can get drafted in the 3rd round, anything's possible.





Sorry, good for nuthin', son-of-a...Can you tell I'm and Ohio State fan?


----------



## HULK

Rel said:
			
		

> Sweet! It's an enigma wrapped in a connundrum!





			
				Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Look! A confusing canole!



HULK hungry.
HULK knew 'Ander' was not real Ander.
HULK happy that WORM now with group.
HULK and WORM block for dshai to play football.


----------



## Ashy

::


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Very nice. Way to keep them on their toes. How did this come across at the table. Were you able to drop this on them at the end of the session to really keep them squirming for a few days?
> 
> ~Tam




It's been awhile, but I don't think that was a session cliffhanger.  There are more surprises though!


----------



## sniffles

Just discovered this.  May I have some more, please?


----------



## Rel

sniffles said:
			
		

> Just discovered this.  May I have some more, please?




The real question is whether you've read the original thread?   If not then you've got a lot of goodness to consume already!

If so then you're stuck begging with the rest of us schmucks.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> The real question is whether you've read the original thread?   If not then you've got a lot of goodness to consume already!
> 
> If so then you're stuck begging with the rest of us schmucks.




Thanks Rel, you're a champ!


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Thanks Rel, you're a champ!




Champing at the bit is more like it.


----------



## Dawn

Sweet!  Just found the new update.

<Looks around for more>


----------



## diaglo

Rel said:
			
		

> If so then you're stuck begging with the rest of us schmucks.




smile when you say that.


----------



## fett527

diaglo said:
			
		

> smile when you say that.




well, he did give it a wink!


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

*Spider falls from the sky, joining a new thread at long last*

Hello all! 

Well Enk&D'Shai, you've dragged me back into this again! 

I loved Small Beginnings (actually named a chapter in Ice, Luck and Honour after it... in ... uh... honour), and I'm so pleased you guys are kicking off again.

It's great to be back - hello to everyone who remembers me, if they do (sigh). 

So nice to see that the style of writing hasn't changed, and the staples of Small Beginnings: Rounded, funny characters - great action - nice dialogue - and interesting plots... look as if they have all made it back. 

Congrats on the kid! I can't remember if I was here to say congrats last time. 

Spider.

ps: 







> For a while, the companions stood silently, a rock in the middle of a stream of men and women entering the city and going about their business.




Love that stuff. Oh so movie like.


----------



## dshai527

> Love that stuff. Oh so movie like.





Good to see you again Spi...That quote was all Enk. I wanted it to be more guns blazing and blood spray, but he was all like.."No that's not how it happened." and I was like..."It was before you guys told Worm that it was a bad idea to attack the whole city..I mean seesh, commoners have like 2hps if that." PC's they never take the bait!


----------



## fett527

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> ...It's great to be back - hello to everyone who remembers me, if they do (sigh).




Of course we remember you!  Matter of fact I was paging through the story hour threads looking for Diaglo's (made a challenge in a thread where he pimped his that if he would ours I would read his.  He is and now I'm trying to read through his) and I saw your name and wondered if you would be reading again.


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

HIJACK DELETED by Spider, because I feel stupid. Of course I'm reading - Small Beginnings was top of my Story Hours last time... and now I'm waiting for the next update!

Spider (kicks at dust on floor, then runs away. exit stage left)


----------



## Ashy

Hey!  As long as we are hijaking to pimp, might as well throw my hat into the ring... 

The Misfits: Ashy's Story Hour! (updated recently)


----------



## dshai527

Pimp my Story Hour brought to you by "Valiant's boat service" Each boat comes with a free crew...going fast so act now!* from the makers of Troll in bag...just add water.
*Clearance boats available with undead crew. 


Next see what Enk and D'shai manage to do to other people story hours....you will be amazed and shocked and amazed some more as they increase font sizes and add spaces and commas where they shouldn't be.


----------



## Enkhidu

Someone has been following the wacky weedus chariot for too long...


----------



## fett527

New info on _The Charred Hand_ in the Rogue's Gallery.  And for anyone who hasn't been recently there are maps!

http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=24525&page=4&pp=40


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*This Space for Rent. No really, we're taking money. Seriously, you guys.*

Hey D'Shai, what do...

Shh! The little girl is sleeping.

Ohh. OK. Anyway...

Still too loud - use sign language instead.

..

..............

....................

................................

......................

...

.............

..

OW!

Heehee! ...............................

Don't forget the Tip of the Day.

............

Out loud.

Tip o' the Day. If you think dealing with a teething baby is difficult, just be thankful your kids aren't half-orcs.

Oooooh, tusks!



*****


The door splintered inward as the half-orc's hamfist blasted against its rough surface. For a moment, the fractured portal seemed to freeze - suspended by a single bolt - before collapsing in a shattered heap at the huge warrior's feet. _There, I knocked,_ Worm mused as he stepped over the sagging pile and looked around the spacious interior of the now aerated building. 

Worm scanned the foyer of the once grand home only to see a wreck of dirt, grime, and broken furniture. He nodded and smiled: even though Dueca’s horse would have turned up its nose at using the building as a stable, the house was the nicest piece of real estate he had found since he set out to find lodging in Old City. He looked up to examine the rafters. _I bet some of those poxy beggars I passed in that alley would kill for a place like this. It’s a palace around here: four walls, only one hole in the roof. _

 "Well, well, well, what have we here? A poor soul in need of some help?" The voice behind the warrior was deep yet eerily quiet: a contrast to the snickering laughter of the owner's two companions, who moved from behind Worm to flank the young fighter. "He must be a country boy, ‘cause he sure don't know how doors work."

"Bet he don’t read neither," giggled the slim, pock-marked man to Worm's right. The man produced a small dagger with a practiced air and began digging the dirt from his fingernails, leaving the thin cuticles as the only clean section of his stick figure. "Or else he’d know that this is Trident territory."

"Yeah, yeah! Trident territory!" mimicked the left-side companion, juggling a crude club as he hopped his short, stout frame from foot to foot in a disturbing dance that reminded the half-orc of Pack when he had too much to drink but the outhouses were occupied. "Gotta pay, gotta pay!"

Worm ignored all three, purposely keeping his back to the one still behind him. Instead, the warrior made a show of inspecting the staircase, making sure that it wouldn’t collapse under his weight if he ended up wanting to climb it. 

The first thug continued as if Worm hadn’t just called him weak and cowardly with his body language.  "Don't you know nuthin’ Nasher? Half-breeds can't read even if they’re from the city,” he guffawed. Worm turned to look at the thug, and finally saw the fat, slovenly, grease-bearded specimen who owned the basso pipes. “Hard to learn when your neck's hangin’ in a noose!" The thug’s belly jiggled as he chuckled at his own joke.

Worm allowed the three men to laugh for a few moments before he replied. "I think it’s time you left. Now,” he said evenly, using the same cold voice that had stopped a dozen fights before they began. “I will be staying here for the next week,” he continued, letting his black eyes bore into the thug’s, “and I do not expect to see you or your playmates again. Thank you."

The three thugs belted out a fit of cackling, stomping laughter that caused remnants of the ceiling to cascade down about the men. "Did you hear that, Ruckus?" said the one called Nasher.

'Yeah, yeah!" said the short one.

"Who do you think you are?" The leader choked out as the laughter died down. "What makes you think you can..."

Worm interrupted before the man could finish. In a heartbeat he stood towering over the fat man, "My name is Wyrm and I have made my decision. You were right – this _is _my first visit to the city, but I’ve been dealing with peons like you for long enough to know about your kind.” He punctuated his last point with a thick finger in the shorter but wider man’s chest. “I know your methods – violence, the threat of it, might makes right. You bully your neighbors into turning the blind eye while you ply your trade, or while you stomp on the weak, or while you scare your victims into paying for your ‘protection’.” Worm leaned in and hissed through clenched teeth, “Well here I am. Scare me!"

The half-orc could feel – almost smell – the fear coming from the thug and the warrior’s heart began to race. His limbs began to tense as the primal instinct to chase prey built, peaking when that prey squeaked, “Get him!"

Worm loved combat. 

It wasn’t that the half-orc didn’t like other forms of competition – winning a game of chess was rewarding in its own way, as was any time he matched wits, strength, or speed against another and won – but fighting was something altogether different. Even the man-mountain champions of the barbarian clans, the only ones he’d ever met that could match his strength, had been hard pressed to deal with the warrior’s combination of speed, power, and cunning. It was a lesson that the barbarians had learned when Worm was a hairy man-boy of twelve, and it was a lesson soon to be taught to a trio of Torian thugs.

Worm’s first pupil was Nasher. The half-orc’s hand struck like a snake’s, striking the smaller man’s stick-like neck with a wet pop. Nasher crumpled in a heap, gasping for air. With his other hand, he reached to his left, catching Ruckus by the back of the head and propelling him face first into a support beam with such force that the stout thug teetered for several heartbeats before he collapsed unconscious on the floor. Then Worm turned on the now broken trio’s leader.

The basso voice was now more a mouse’s squeak. "If you want the place it’s yours!” he said, backing away from the angry young warrior. “Don't worry about us, we was just leavin’! I mean, we just thought you was just kiddin’! If you c’n fight like that, we figgered you’d be stayin’ at the Keep!"

"The what?" Worm asked, flexing his raised fist.

"The Keep!" the fat thug flinched. "They say Trennor lived there. You know, the hero from them legends? It’s the nicest place in Old City. If someone fixed it, it would be the nicest place in all of Tor. Noone’d bother you there. Except..."

"Except what?" the warrior barked, hauling the fat thug off his feet even though the weight of the rotund man taxed his muscles to their limit.

The fat thug gulped before answering. "Except for the ogre!"

"Ogre?" Worm laughed, tossing the thug aside. "The guard would never allow an ogre to reside within the city."

"The guard are as scared of him as anyone else and they leave us Old City folk to fend f’r ourselves. He eats our babies, and roams the streets at night looking for fresh meat. He even gets money from all the guilds. Even the New City ones!"

The groveling thug continued his horror story, but Worm was no longer listening. _This might be something,_ he thought. _If I can beat an ogre by myself, maybe Pack will finally see that I’m more than worthy enough to be one of the Heroes of Icemist! Better even – they needed the whole lot to take an ogre! _The half-orc strode out the doorway, absentmindedly dragging the babbling thug behind him. _Tonight we’ll sleep in the grandest building in Tor, and Pack will see what a real hero looks like. _

Without a backward glance, he hurried down the street, his new guide in tow. _And it won’t be that scrawny southerner!_


*****

Next time:

"Pack's Night Out," or "I'm Batman!"


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

Nice update.

Right at the beginning of Small Beginnings, I tried explaining how much I liked Worm, despite him only appearing for a brief moment. Reading him develop over time has been fantastic. Thanks for that guys.

Oh, and love the head-to-beam work. Poetry in motion.

Spider.
A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

> Tip o' the Day. If you think dealing with a teething baby is difficult, just be thankful your kids aren't half-orcs.




Just wait 'til they're teenagers, then you can't tell the difference anyway   .

P.S. Great update ... Nice to see Worm in action.


----------



## Enkhidu

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> P.S. Great update ...




Aw, shucks. You're just saying that 'cuz its true. 

I've got a daughter who just hit 13 this year, and my son just hit 2 - and I think its absolutely hilarious to watch D'Shai get smacked around with the same stuff I've already had to deal with.


----------



## Rel

I'm just getting around to reading this update (busy with work the last couple weeks) and I loved it.  Worm fills a niche that every party needs filled:  The guy who starts whopping bad guys while they're busy speechifying.

Loving the story and looking forward to more.


----------



## Enkhidu

Reserved. All rights and stuff. In other words, stray post.


----------



## Ashy

Just about the time I think my stuff is finally getting bearable, you guys go and post something like this.  Now I've gotta slink back into my hole and gnash away at the keyboard for another eternity...  

Rockin' stuff, guys!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Pimp My Story Hour. What, did you think we were joking?*

This week on Pimp My Story Hour, me and my man D'Shai...

Yo!

... got a special treat for y'all.

That's right Enk-xit. We got one of our longtime SB readers - Spider_Jeruselam - to unknowningly "volunteer" part of his story hour, Ice Luck and Honor for us to Pimp.

Let's show what we got, D. Here's the before:



> Thalin scrabbled backwards as the man advanced, his hands desperately clutching at the ground behind him. His hands found the clothed shaft of Erifeci. With a quick roll sideways, Thalin shook the bandages away from the staff and with a shout of rage swung the staff towards his opponent. Thalin screamed the command word “Ice” as the staff carved through the air.




What did you think when you saw that, D?

man, I thought that needed some pimpin'! So that's what we did:



		Code:
	

                 [color=white]Thalin scrabbled backwards 
              as           the               man 
       advanced,           his               hands [/color]
[color=blue]desperately clutching at the ground behind him. His ha[size=3]n[/size][size=4]ds[/size] [size=5][b]found[/b][/size][/color]
[color=yellow]the[/color] [color=white]clothed shaft of [i]Erifeci[/i]. With a quick roll sideways, [/color][color=red]Thalin[/color]
[color=yellow]shook[/color] [color=white]the bandages away from the staff and with a shout of [/color][color=red]rage [/color][color=white]
swung the staff towards his opponent. Thalin screamed the command [/color]
  [size=1][color=dimgrey]word “Ice”[/color][/size]                                [color=dimgrey][size=3]as the staff carved[/size][/color]
   [color=dimgrey][size=1]through[/size]                                        [size=3]the air.[/size][/color]


Tell us about this one, D.

OKAY Enk what you see here is a classic, 50's style pimp. I personally like the blue racing stripe and phat tires for the rear.

I'm partial to the tinies on the front and the yellow glazed headlamps. And with the way the stripe sweeps up into the the fins in the back, this paragraph is definitaly stylin'. And, that about wraps up this edition of Pimp My Story Hour. This is Enk and D'Shai giving you the Tip of the Day:

If your ever have to miss a gaming session, make sure its not the one where you divy up the magic items.



*****


_Don’t look back! Don't look back!_

The stairs blurred beneath the halfling’s bare feet as his tiny legs pumped as fast as they could. Blood oozed from numerous bites and scratches over the bard's body, but he hardly noticed anymore as his weight finally hit the ground floor of the ramshackle store front and the halfling ran for the small crack that had allowed him access to the singed, two story building.

Soot and ash kicked up by the halfling’s flight hung in the air and – as if shoveled there by tiny gremlins – settled in Pack’s eye, nearly blinding him. _This was a bad idea. Why don't I ever listen? I hope it’s not following me! Where is that hole? Ander will know what to do. But he told me not to go in the first place! Oh he is going to be mad. Here it is!_

With a desperate leap, the bard hurled himself through the jagged opening, coming down painfully on his shoulder as he tumbled into open air. Pack stood, pausing out of habit to brush himself clean and failing miserably, and then rushed through the burnt timbers of what used to be the Golden Gander to find Ander. It didn't take long, even if Ander hadn’t been alone in the wreckage, the backwoods warrior stood out against the impoverished patrons of Old City.

_At least he has his cloak up so it’s harder to see his face,_ the halfling thought as he ducked below a fallen beam.

"Ander! Ander!" the bard said. As usual, he did so louder than he intended. "Aurora isn't in the building next door, but something awful is!"

"Blood and Bones, Pack! What happened to you?" Pack could hear the concern in the woodsman’s voice, and saw it in his eyes when the woodsman threw off his hood. The bard suddenly realized that he probably looked worse than he felt.

"Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he said, though Ander crouched and began wrapping some of the nastier scrapes with linen. “But you’ll never guess what just happened! I went into the burnt out store next to the inn to see if Aurora was maybe hiding inside there cause you never know and I know you said not to and to wait for Theo but I found this crack and it was small enough for me to fit through and I thought that maybe when you said ‘don’t go in there’ you meant ‘don't go in through the front door’ so I went in to check it out and guess what?"

“What?” Ander said as he continued to bind the halfling's wounds.

"Aurora isn't in there. Ow!”

"You already said that. Now what was in there," he said with a tug on a bandage that nearly pulled the halfling over. 

“Whoa!” Pack was sure that the woodsman was being rough on purpose. _And I probably deserve it too, but I still got some good information!_

"Oh yeah! It was big and mean and nasty... and… and it bit me." 

"I can see that Pack... but what was it?" The woodsman continued to jostle the young bard as he cleaned and bandaged the bites and scrapes.

"Ummm... I don't know, but I think we should go get it before it hurts somebody else." The woodsman stopped his bandaging. 

"Pack, we need to wait ‘til the others show up before we do anything." Pack used his pouty eyes. Then he used them again; and then a third time. When he started on his fourth, Ander surrendered.

"Alright! I'll take a look, but you stay here.” He stood and ruffled Pack’s hair before hiking his hood back up over his face. “And this better not be like the “monsters” in my wine celler back home."

"Those were big rats..." Pack mumbled as Ander strode toward the shell of a building, "to me at least."

*****

Next Time: "Old Arguments," or "Father-in-Law Knows Best!"


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

> We got one of our longtime SB readers - Spider_Jeruselam - to unknowningly "volunteer"




*Cheers!*

How did you know my story hour deteriorated into a Forgotten Realms Cannonball Run? Dammnit, that was such a suprise.

p.s. loving the updates! feed me feed me feed me.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> I'm just getting around to reading this update (busy with work the last couple weeks) and I loved it.  Worm fills a niche that every party needs filled:  The guy who starts whopping bad guys while they're busy speechifying.
> 
> Loving the story and looking forward to more.





Worm does whop with the best of them!

By the way Rel, I took to putting a quote from you in my sig on our SH.  I hope you don't mind.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Star Wars on the brain.*



		Code:
	

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium]       [color=deepskyblue]                                     A long time ago, on a website close, close to homepage...[/color][/font]










                     [font=impact][size=6][b][color=yellow]Small Beginnings[/color][/b][/size][/font]












                               [FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=yellow][size=4]Episode II

                                         The Heroes of Icemist[/size]











[size=1]                                                          It is a period of civil war. Rebel authors, writing from a 
                                                      hidden basement, have completed their latest update, striking [/size]
[size=2]                                                   against the evil forces of Life and Responsibility.

                                          During the writing, the authors have managed to steal secret [/size]
[size=3]                       readers and posters from the internet's greatest D&D news 
                  destination, ENWORLD, a message board dedicated to roleplaying [/size]
[size=3]                 needs with enough members to support an entire storyhour forum.

              Pursued by Life's own sinister agents, Enk and D'Shai write feverishly 
           among the clutter of old pizza boxes, custodians of the newly written post [/size]
     [size=4]that can save their behinds and restore freedom to their faithful readers...[/size][/color][/font]




*****

Theo eased back into the velvety embrace of the chair, its gentle support easing back pain built over a month of hard travels. The boy had pushed them quickly across the melting plains, and too many nights sleeping on cold, hard packed earth had taken its toll on the aging priest. _I’m getting too old for this,_ he thought. _Maybe after we make sure all is well with Aurora I’ll just stay for a while and rest. Yes, a rest would be good…_ The cleric closed his eyes, drinking in the scent of a spring rain flowing from a nearby brazier, and allowed himself be carried off into relaxation by the cloud-like cushions. 

The creak of the chamber door behind him snatched him out of his half sleep with a start. He rubbed the weariness from his eyes, suddenly all too aware of how dingy and unkempt he looked, and how that would likely influence the man he had come to see.

“Greetings, Brother Theobald.” His father-in-law’s voice was soft and frail, but even after all these years it still managed to raise the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck. “How are you, my son? It has been a long time.”

"Since the funeral, Your Eminence," he rumbled, a bit more harshly than intended. He rose from his seat and kneeled as the Bishop swept into the room and around Theo’s chair. The elderly man was clad in a white robe edged and lined with silver, embroidered throughout with a webbing of lightning, and around his neck he bore an ornate pectoral that served as holy symbol .  When he extended a veiny and skeletal hand toward his son-in-law, Theo gave a perfunctory kiss to the huge ring on his index finger. “Congratulations, I was pleased to hear of your elevation, said the priest as he bowed his head.

“Truly?” asked the Bishop as he settled himself into a seat more throne than chair. For the first time Theo realized that his father-in-law looked every part his new position. A quick glance around the room, festooned with a large desk, fine rugs, and overly comfortable furniture completed the picture. _The old man has done well enough for himself. And he’s not afraid to show it, either. You could probably feed a pair of large families for a year for what that robe cost._ The two men sat and kneeled in silence for a while. _This is why I left in the first place… _

The older man broke the silence. “It pains me that you were not pleased enough to accept my invitation.” Theo nearly flinched from the verbal smack and jerked his head up enough to lock eyes with his father-in-law. He suppressed a glare and settled for quiet indignation. In response, the older man simply motioned for him to stand and sit.

_Correction, this is why I left in the first place._ "It was an honor to receive it, Your Eminence, but I knew what other questions acceptance would bring. It is still too soon for me." 

"It has been seven years since we buried my Eleanor, Brother.  The Church has need of you."

"And time has yet to heal my wounds!" The words hung in the air like thunderclouds, ready to strike and sizzle, and long moments passed before the Bishop spoke. 

"You still blame Zuras for her death don't you?” The old man’s infirm voice was quiet, yet caustic. 
Theo paused for a moment. "No, Your Eminence. The Church felt I was needed here and I understood my duty. I no longer blame Zuras for calling me from home." The rest of his thought, still unformed, he left unsaid.

That did not stop his father-in-law from saying it for him. "No," the Bishop said, "you blame me." Theo looked away, pursing his lips and frowning furiously. "You think that I should have let you go to defend your silly little village."

"Your daughter was in that town!" the priest roared, all semblance of respect gone from his manner.

"If I had let you go, you could have been killed," the older man said. “Theobald…”

"I could have protected her!” he crashed, raising his fists – now crackling with electrical energy – in helpless defiance. For a few moments, the two men stared at each other, their faces bathed in snapping Zuran light. 

As the light faded, the Bishop sighed. “You are Chosen, my son. Your power marks you so. You know what that means. You know that the Church could not let you go. And you know Eleanor agreed.”

Theo slumped back, defeated once again by the ghost of his wife’s faith. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

“You can always come back, Theo,” said his father-in-law, dispensing with formalities. “I know we have not always seen eye to eye on these matters, but there will always be an honored place for you here.”

“That would have made Eleanor happy.”

“Not just Eleanor, but to her father as well. Theo, I have long looked on you as my prodigal son, squandering gifts more precious than gold. Come back to the Church and help me do the Storm Lord’s work.”

_And become like you? Not likely._ "I do Zuras' work in my own way, Your Eminence…”

“Please, call me…

“Your Eminence,” continued Theo a bit more forcefully, hoping to drive home his point. “He has not drawn his hand from me.”

Silence settled over the two men. Several times, Theo wondered if he should simply leave, but in the end decided to give the Bishop the respect he was due. Finally, the older man broke the silence. “I assume that you had some reason you wished to see me, Brother?”

Theo, thankful that the two had again finally tabled their more personal matter, jumped on the chance to respond. “Yes, Your Eminence. I have heard that there was a murder at the University. More than one, actually.”

“Correct. In fact, the Highmasters there have approached us about joining them in their investigations. So far their efforts have been… unrewarding at best.”

“What do you mean?”

“Several of their early suspects have gone missing, only to be found floating in the river. One – a rather striking young student there - simply vanished, as if she…”

Theo interrupted, “Do you know who that was?” He heard the over-eagerness in his voice and immediately added, “Because that sounds suspicious enough to want to start with her.”

“No need, Brother. Witnesses have finally seen and described the man responsible for the murders. Though no one yet knows who he is, artists commissioned by the King have placed his likeness throughout the streets.” The older man motioned toward his desk, “I have one atop my papers, there, if you’d like to see.”

Theo, relieved that the face was a man’s and not Aurora’s, stood and moved to the desk. “The missing student, do you know if she had anything that would set her apart in a crowd? I promised a family back in Icemist that I would look in on their daughter for them, and…” Theo stifled the gasp before it escaped his lips. With trembling fingers, he lifted the parchment to see the face of a young man who had pushed him across Tor in search of a woman.

_Ander?_

“And what, Brother?”

Theo’s mind raced. “I’m sorry, Your Eminence. I should be going to check on the girl before nightfall.”

The Bishop gave his son-in-law a sidelong glance, “Of course. Zuras guide your steps, my son.”

“And watch over yours, Your Eminence,” Theo replied with a nod, before slipping out the door and trotting swiftly down the stone corridors.

_It’s time to get to the bottom of all of this…_


----------



## Ashy

WOO HOO!  I claim the rights of first post!!!

Excellent stuff, as usual!  I really liked the phrase about their faces bathed in the Zuran light.  COOOOOLLLLLL.....

And I LOVE the intro!


----------



## Rel

SUH-WEET!  I love the tie-ins with Theo's background.  And I love the mystery plots too.  Keep up the good work.


----------



## Old One

OK...it has taken me a bit...but I finally got through the original Small Beginnings!  Shame on me for not reading it while in progress, that was good stuff!

Getting ready to start on the "Heroes of Icemist".

BTW, I will see if I can boot LiVeWiRe in the booty and send him back over here...he will be pleased that a new SH is in progress...he is one of my old gaming buds.

~ OO


----------



## Jon Potter

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> Theo slumped back, defeated once again by the ghost of his wife’s faith.




This is just one example, but this is the kind of evocative imagery that sets this story hour among my favorites. Keep up the great work and I'll keep checking back every day to see if there might be an update waiting.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

ME^3

You want to clone yourself three times?

Not yet, that's on next week's agenda. Its the new games expo dedicated solely to me.

Have you finally gone off the deep end?

That was last week. Anyway, back to ME^3 and the unveiling of the new D'S3.

D'S3?

Yeah, its slimmed down from the Mountain Dew 24 Pack to our new pizza box sized unit.

"Pizza box sized-unit?" Does it come with a side of cheesy bread and the plastic spacer?

That's the multitap for added controller. Up to eight can play!

Oh, this is rich. I suppose you have booth babes too?

Lifesized cardboard cutouts of the St. Pauli girl.

I have absolutely no idea what to say in response to that.

And we're all setup for low cost play on our new network, VoCS service.

VoCS?

Voice over can and string.

All right, wrap it up.

Tip O' the Day: It's amazing what you can build out of the stuff you find in your garage. But get your tetanus shot first. Ow!



*****


The wrought iron gate groaned defiantly as Worm pushed, as if the old hinges would bar entry by will alone, only to give way in a flurry of rust and metallic snow. He paused for a moment, stretching his shoulder and taking the opportunity to look at the formidable structure he was about to enter.

The fat thug had been right to say that it was once the most fabulous estate in all of Tor, though those days looked long past. Great, perfectly cut stones now dingy with age served as a foundation for twin towers so overgrown with ivy that Worm found it difficult to see the covered brick. The grounds were likewise overrun with wild bushes and weeds; the half-orc could only barely see the paved footpaths and fountains below. Yet, even in disrepair, the Keep felt more like a prettified army outpost than a noble’s retreat. It sported no lower windows, though the upper walls were marked by slits and barred openings, and the remains of a stagnant moat partially surrounded the front entryway. He gave an involuntary nod of approval – it was the kind of place Worm would have built, pretty enough to fool the foolish but strong enough withstand a siege.

He heard a snap behind him and wheeled, only to see his newly acquired mule nibbling on some of the abundant overgrowth. When he pulled on the beast’s reins, it fixed him with a baleful eye. Its one eyed stare seemed stupidly unafraid, despite the black and blue outline of a Worm-sized fist around it. “Its not too late to give you back, mule,” he said, though he doubted the bounty hunter with whom he traded pack mules – two legs for four – was anywhere other than on his way to collect a reward. Trading the thug had meant losing out on enough bounty coin to buy a night in the perfumed embrace of the city’s hospitality house, but at least the mule didn’t talk.

The half-orc tugged once more at the reins, and soon his mule clip-clopped along a crudely cleared stone path leading to a rotted drawbridge. After shoving the mule onto the wood to test it, he entered the Keep itself.

He looked up as he stepped into the short stone corridor, noticing both a rusted portcullis hanging wedged above his head and a set of murder holes in the smooth ceiling. At the far end, a door hung loosely on makeshift hinges. The once sturdy barrier of oak and bronze swayed slightly, as if caught in a stiff breeze. Worm opened it with a shove of the head of his club. 

Worm edged into the Keep, only to be stopped by an unexpected sight. The interior stood in stark contrast to what the half-orc had seen on the outside. The walls were smooth and polished, sending lamplight from a dozen sconces dancing outward from their glittering surfaces. On the floor, a badge – a long sword and spear overlapping a red shield – sat worked in a mosaic of semiprecious stone. The tiles interlocked tightly, showing recent care and grout work. Tapestries of ancient battles and portraits of distinguished knights flanked the hallway like a receiving line, ending at the archway to the main hall. 

Through the archway, outlines from a large fire caused shadows to dance across the walls as the smell of cooked flesh wafted outward. Worm moved toward the fire, watching the shadows as they grew more distinct: a huge figure ripping flesh from a roasting spit. 

Gripping his cudgel tightly, the warrior rushed into the room howling the battle cry of his barbarian neighbors and swinging from his hip.

"What's this?" said the ogre as the warrior rushed into the room.  The half-orc’s swing, meant to catch his foe by surprise, never came close to the ogrish beast as it deflected the blow with a sizzling haunch of meat. With a crack, the leg bone cracked, sending the meat to the floor. "You made me drop my dinner," it said, matter-of-factly.

The creature stood nearly two feet taller than the muscled warrior and was half again as wide, but not nearly the size of the creature from Pack’s tale, nor as disproportioned. _I should have expected your exaggeration, little brother._ "You’ve run out of time, monster!" Without hesitation the half-orc changed his grip, sending a two handed swing toward the ogre’s head. The agile leviathan easily stepped aside as the club plowed into the stone. 

“Ahh, I see.” The beast chuckled as it dodged yet another of the warrior’s wild swings. “You’ve come to stop the ‘monster’ and collect your reward.”

Worm countered both with words and club. “My reward is the head of a vile beast and place to stay while I’m in town.”

Neither seemed to hit home: “Vile Beast? I’m not the one barging into other people’s homes reeking of beggar sweat, spouting insults and waving around his club like a child slaying imaginary dragons.” This time the ogre sent a counter of his own with a backhand strike that sent the cudgel flying from the half-orc's grasp. “Now leave while my mind is still focused on the taste of my dinner.” The ogre took a step back toward the fire and began to turn his back on the weaponless warrior to retrieve his dropped dinner.

“I’ll leave when my business is finished. And right now that business is you.”

“Very well,” the ogre sighed, using the same tone Pack might when asked to do his chores. The ogre stopped in mid stoop, turning square up to the determined warrior.  Powerful looking muscles flexed beneath its leather tunic, nearly ripping it around the arms. “We will do it your way.”

Worm flexed his own formidable brawn, feeling the ripples beneath the skin and settling into a wrestling stance as the two titans began slowly circling each other. The half-orc again felt the surge of energy as his heart raced and blood burned in anticipation of the contest that was about to unfold. Never before had he faced such a foe: one who was neither intimidated nor awed by his very presence or mannerisms. 

The goliaths moved almost in sync, circling, watching, waiting for a weakness; any flaw, any opening that would allow for a swift victory. Suddenly the beast raised his left arm as if to strike, but hesitated and in that moment the half-orc seized his opportunity, sending an upward blow straight to the giant’s midsection. 

The blow landed like Durnan’s hammer to cold steel, and like the cold steel the ogre was unfazed. Worm, only after the fact seeing the ogre’s feint, whipped his arms back to protect his face. Yet, in the race for the half-orc’s jaw, the ogre’s fist found its way to its target first, smashing into the warrior’s teeth and sending the half-breed reeling. 

The world spun, as if Worm were caught in the gears of the grain press, and blackness closed in from all sides. The cold impact of the floor on his cheek sent a wave of pain through the warrior and as the darkness of unconsciousness swept over him he could only listen.

“Not bad kid. I actually felt that."


*****

Next time:

"Dinner is Served," or "I Got Friends in Low Places"


----------



## Dungannon

Oooh, methinks the ogre is more than he seems.  Also looks like Worm may have found himself a new mentor, providing he survives the initiation.


----------



## fett527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Oooh, methinks the ogre is more than he seems...




A diamond in the rough...


----------



## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> The half-orc tugged once more at the reins, and soon his mule clip-clopped along a crudely cleared stone path leading to a rotted drawbridge. After shoving the mule onto the wood to test it, he entered the Keep itself.




Have I told you, lately, that I love Worm. 

(In a purely platonic way, of course.  Although I'm not entirely sure that the Ogre will offer the same terms.)


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Rel said:
			
		

> Have I told you, lately, that I love Worm.
> 
> (In a purely platonic way, of course.  Although I'm not entirely sure that the Ogre will offer the same terms.)




You're suggesting that the ogre will offer to "love" Worm in a non-platonic way?  :\


----------



## Ashy

Rel said:
			
		

> Have I told you, lately, that I love Worm.




Have I told you, lately, that I love this SH.


----------



## dshai527

Ashy said:
			
		

> Have I told you, lately, that I love this SH.




Aww its getting all misty in here..wait, wait I've got something in my eye..


give me a second..


----------



## Ashy

I do, really!  I wish I had enough for a ring...


----------



## Rel

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> You're suggesting that the ogre will offer to "love" Worm in a non-platonic way?  :\




"Not that there's anything wrong with that."


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

Thumbs up guys. Nice update.

I figure that perhaps the ogre could teach/mentor/infuse Worm with a dash of fighting advice.

Worm & Ogre sex is a terrible, terrible road to travel down my friends... only the blind or the _quest_ed  walk that one.

Spider.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Dinner is Served*

D'Shai and I are busy watching _Ice Pirates_. 

Feel free to insert mindless drivel from D'Shai here.

An unbelievably witty retort from me here.

An equally mindless non-sequiter from D'Shai here.

And finally a Tip of the Day here.

Tip of the Day: ______________________________


*****


_“…and I present to you, Wyrm of the North, Tor’s highest honor. For your bravery and cunning in slaying the Ogre which has plagued our fair city for far too long, I give you Trennor’s Crest!” The king bowed before the half-orc, placing the heavy, bejeweled medallion in the young warrior’s hands. Worm grinned, his lower tusks jutting past his lips, and raised the crest high above his head. “People of Tor,” he roared, “Let it be known that I, Wyrm, am your Champion, now and forever!” The crowd cheered in response, chanting incoherently. And as he placed the medallion’s chain around his thick neck, Worm saw his adopted mother Lizon and brother Pack in the front of the crowd, both crying in joy at the warrior’s great deed. 

The applause started at the back of the throng, slowly moving its way forward as it followed a string of scantily clad dancing girls. When they finally set foot on dais, swirling around the new Champion in a flurry of silk ribbons, feathered fans, and curvy flesh, the applause became a beat, as if one huge hand kept time for Worm’s personal entertainment.

Then, a single voice cut through the noise. It began softly, almost a whisper, “Faker. Charlatan. Knave. Rogue.” The applause faltered as the voice grew louder. “This is no Champion that stands before you. He is an imposter.”

The crowd hushed as they melted away leaving only a thin woodsman standing next to Worm’s family. The newcomer continued to calmly spout his accusations in an accented tongue, “A play hero whose own brother helped best an ogre when he could not. He slew nothing. He is nothing.”

“Shut up, Ander! You’re ruining everything!” The half-orc tried to leap at the smug southerner, but the medallion around his neck was suddenly a chain that shackled him to the stone dais near the king’s throne. 

“Come, Pack,” said the woodsman as he held his hand out to the halfling, “he’s not worthy to travel in the company of the Heroes of Icemist.” 

“Pack! Don’t!” For a long moment, Worm held his brother’s gaze, pleading silently for him to stay. Pack stared back, a tear on his cheek, and then reached up to take Ander’s hand. As he turned away the mob reemerged, armed with rocks and rotten vegetables as they called for the half-breed’s head._

***

Worm groaned and rolled over, not daring to open his eyes. The few streams of light that did seep through his clenched lids caused a dull ache in his swollen head. The pain in his temples, while drowning out the memory of his nightmare, reminded the half-orc of a morning after an evening spent drinking Ice Dragon, a barbarian mead known for both its chilled taste and a brutal hangover.

“You didn’t tell me you brought food.”

Worm leapt to his feet, the deep, sonorous voice a reminder of where he was. A heartbeat later, the wobbly warrior teetered and fell, his unsteady appendages losing their fight against Gea’s Grasp.

“Easy, son,” the voice chuckled, “I bet your head feels like an ogre hit you.” The chuckle became a booming laugh that brought waves of anvil-pounding pain to the youth’s head. “Here, have some food.”

The grisly slab of roasted flesh that the ogre shoved under the half-orc’s nose would have turned his stomach had his pain been mead induced, but surprisingly Worm found his mouth watering from the smell. With a wary eye on the cook, he took the meat and chanced a small bite. It was tough and stringy, yet savory in a way that reminded him of the barbarian feasts in the north. With a shrug, he set to devouring the meaty shank as he gave a more appraising look at his host. 

For the first time, he realized that his erstwhile opponent was not an ogre at all, at least not fully. Pack had described a misshapen and hunched monstrosity with skin the color of bile; Worm saw only a hint of that sallow color, and judged his host to be well proportioned and postured. Even his graying hair was braided and clean. The only truly ogrish feature he possessed was an oversized and overly square jaw complete with tusks, an exaggerated mirror of Worm’s own. He too was a half-breed. 

“Mmm, oh excuse me, where are my manners?” the half-ogre snorted between slurps on a marrow-filled rib. He tossed the bone in his mouth with a crunch, taking a moment to grind it down and swallow, and finished the display by wiping greasy hands across his leather jerkin before extending one out in a standard greeting. “My name is Grogger and this is my home.” 

“I came here to kill you,” said Worm, setting his own meal aside, “and you give me dinner and talk as if we are friends.”

The half-ogre smiled, displaying a set of fangs that Worm knew would have melted his smaller sibling. “Lots of people come here to kill me. None of them has survived my answer. You did, so I’m impressed.” The large man-beast pulled another haunch from the spit and tore into it. “Plus, there’s the other similarities we possess. I like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, juice running down his chin. “Mmmm, - you bring good meat.” He swallowed heavily and continued, “My ogre blood gives me strange and magical powers.” He leaned in conspiratorially, “I get to choose who I like and who I don’t.”

Worm answered, annoyed. “That’s ridiculous. Just because I am a half-breed and possess strength like yours doesn’t necessarily mean that I am someone you should choose to like.”

“Why not? You chose to think poorly of me…”

“Poorly?”

“What else would you call deciding to try and kill someone? And based on rumors and lies no doubt. At least I gave you the courtesy of meeting you face to face before I made my mind up about you.”

Worm’s head started to ache again, and he suddenly became aware that he had begun unconsciously clenching his fists._ It’s like arguing with Pack._ He paused a moment, and finally changed the subject. “So you’re not really a murderous, thieving beast that has the city locked in terror.”

“I don’t even consider myself a beast,” said Grogger. “You know, it’s obvious that you’re not a local. Where are you from? No wait, let me guess…” The half-ogre gave Worm a visual once over, a huge hand on his equally huge chin. “I’d say you’re from the east. Galen, maybe. I bet you just got here.”

“This morning.”

“And already trying to kill me? Who was it that sent you here, son?”

“Just some thugs. Said I was trespassing on “Trident territory.” 

“Hmm. Those Tridents are quick,” he said. “Been after my place for years, but I’ve busted enough of their heads that they’ve left me alone for a while now. Guess they thought you might do the job; either that or I’d put you down. Looks like you’ve been hornswoggled, son. Happens to everyone new to Tor.”

“I don’t think…” Worm started indignantly. 

“Don’t let it worry you. This city might have won the first round, but you look like a quick wit. Just don’t let your guard down,” Grogger said more seriously. “Remember this, son: Tor – oh, spit – really anyplace full of people, is going to have its share of deceits. It doesn’t matter if it’s a baron, a bishop, or a beggar, its all about politics or power, and sometimes both.”

Worm mulled over the half-ogre’s words. “Hmrph, I can see that. I know of a couple people who fit that description back home. One’s the sheriff, and one’s even with my…” Worm stood and dusted himself off. “Thank you Grogger, but I need to get back to my brother and his friends. I’ve still got to find somewhere for us to stay the night.”

“Why don’t you stay here? I could use some company, and nobody’ll bother you unless they want to deal with me.”

“We might do that. Besides, I need to go find the fat thug that sent me here to die and explain to him why it was a bad idea.”

Grogger flashed a warning stare, “Be careful what you wish for, son. This city can change a man, and those Tridents have been here a long time.” Then the half-ogre chuckled, “But we’ll talk about that when you return.”

Worm shouldered his club and strode out with a wordless wave. As he neared the portcullis, he heard Grogger’s bellow.

“And when you come back make sure you bring another donkey! This one is good eatin’!”


----------



## Dawn

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> “And when you come back make sure you bring another donkey! This one is good eatin’!”




Beautiful line!

Nothing like having friends in "low places"!


----------



## Ashy

WOO HOO!  Excellent stuff!!!    I love the line about Gea's Grasp!    Love that campaign flavor!


----------



## Tamlyn

More, more, more! We need to find out what happened to the Rora Angel.


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> More, more, more! We need to find out what happened to the Rora Angel.




gonna have to have some patience for that one.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Cat on a hot tin roof*

Due to popular request...

Or maybe just because we couldn't come up with something better...

We've decided to answer Tamlyn's question about what happened to Aurora. But, since we're already hip deep working on the next post, we really don't have the time to do it ourselves.

So this week we're handing off the intro duties to Enkhito and Lil' "Two Bibs"* Aurora. Since Two Bibs doesn't yet have the motor control necessary to type, Enkhito will do the honors. Thank you.







Cheese!

Mahmawahmahpbbth

Ball. Circle!

Geeweeweerlgh!

Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo, Nemo!

Fascinating. I had never thought about it like that before.

Thanks, kids. And now for the Tip O' the Day: Softballs are not soft.


*****

Ashrem slid through the shadows, silhouetted briefly in the moonlight as he leapt from one rooftop to the next. He landed with a soft thud on the slightly sloped surface, pausing momentarily to check his bearings one last time. As long as Brother Theo’s tales of a youth spent carousing proved accurate, all that was left was a quick drop to the ground and a short walk to the Golden Gander.

Entering Tor’s Old City had been absurdly easy. While the scout’s abilities were formidable, patrols along the Old City walls had proven almost non-existent. For a while he had thought it simply a fluke, a mismanagement of scheduling and resources. Yet as he moved above the ramshackle buildings and crime-ridden streets devoid of any semblance of order, it had become increasingly difficult to dismiss the troubling notion that Tor simply did not care for this parasitic portion of the city.

He peered over the side to see a harlot proposition a passerby and shook his head. A quick scan of the alleys on either side showed them empty, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. He watched for a moment and then, satisfied that the only danger nearby was the pox, he crept along the alley-side rooftop toward a pile of debris.

It was then that he saw the silhouette – a figure limned in moonlight.

The feloine immediately let himself melt back into the shadows. He watched as the figure stood and then bent, working its arms as if it were cranking some unseen apparatus. Ashrem hesitated a moment, listening to the faintly familiar, rhythmic click of gears, and slipped from his shadowy perch. He timed his jump perfectly, and the muted thud he made as he leapt to the next rooftop never seemed to make it to the figure’s ears.

The scout crept closer, wondering how best to stay downwind of the figure, when the breeze shifted and his nose was assaulted by the stench of cinder and ash. He stifled a cough, and made yet another leap to the figure’s rooftop, once again enveloped by welcoming shadow in the lee of a dead chimney. There he waited: watching, listening, and sniffing.

In moments, Ashrem began picking out specific scents. Moments later he had constructed a mental map of his as yet unseen surroundings – the oppressive odor of old cinder, an active bonfire, a large and abandoned nest of rodents, the smell of unwashed men, Ander…

He sniffed again confirming the woodsman’s scent coming up from below; a few heartbeats later, the feloine identified Pack’s and Theo’s. Then he heard a high pitched voice from the street over which the figure – at this point Ashrem was sure he was one of the unwashed men – hunched.

“Look wot I found, gents!”

“Ooo’s that Binny? Eee’s a biggun!”

“What does a pershun have to do to get a drink around here?” bellowed a familiar half-orcish voice. “And why haven’t I done it yet?” Worm sounded drunk.

Ashrem paused as he digested the sudden onslaught of information, and then looked over at the man. He was standing now, and had taken a step back. In his hands he cradled a very large, windlassed, and cocked crossbow, and he watched intently the goings on below.

The scout sat like that for a while, listening to Worm’s speech growing ever more slurred as the half-orc’s scent mingled with the unwashed thugs’ gathered around the fire pit below. He frowned as he listened to the indistinct chatter, _You should have known better than to let the half-orc drink so soon into the mission, Ander. Let us hope the drunken lout does not bring us any more trouble than…_

The chatter stopped suddenly as the bowman on the roof shouldered his crossbow, aiming exactly where Ashrem imagined Worm sat. He heard a voice from below, “What are you doing, Binny?” The voice sounded far more sober than it had when it had greeted Binny the first time. _Too late._

Binny’s voice likewise had no hint of its earlier insobriety, “I thought I saw something over in the ware… It’s them! It’s…”

The thunderous crack of two skulls meeting violently echoed briefly through the streets. “It’s an ambush!” roared Worm, accompanied by the crash of wood on hard packed dirt as his companions rushed from the building below him.

“Move!” cried Ander from below. “Worm! Two on your left!”

“I know!” shouted the half-orc. “Watch your own back!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ashrem saw the crossbowman shift his aim and begin tracking an unseen target. _Not today, I think_. He slipped soundlessly from the shadow, creeping across the rooftop as he drew Razor and its inferior cousin, a simple short sword bought as a match for the more exquisite blade last Festival.

The scout’s new blade entered his target’s back just below the ribs, angling up toward the lungs, while Razor cut short the bowman’s scream in a shower of crimson. With a jerk, Ashrem spun the archer, slamming Razor home in its scabbard and using the other sword as a handle to complete the would-be assassin’s rotation. A heartbeat later the dead man spiraled off the edge, and the rooftop had a new sniper.

Ashrem peered over the edge to see a dozen men on the wrong end of their prospective ambush. Two already lay motionless at Worm’s feet, and three more surrounded him. The scout took aim at the nearest, seeking to even the odds, when Worm wheeled on his attacker, grabbing him with one powerful arm as he was tackled by the other two. The feloine growled at the lost shot, and shifted targets as the sickly crunch of bone carried up from the pile.

A quick shift of his shoulder brought another target in his sights. His fingers caressed the trigger bar as he tracked his prey, waiting for a clean shot at the man’s neck. Just as the caress became pressure, the thug crumpled, bent in half by Ander’s quarterstaff. Ashrem  then watched as his friend robbed him of another victim with a quick follow-up that left the woodsman’s second foe with a shattered nose.

A fourth target presented himself: a thin wiry man moved toward the grappling half-orc, holding a shortsword with familiar skill. Ashrem took aim at his chest, but before the scout could loose his bolt, a halfling sized knife sprouted from his target’s eye.

He scanned the chaotic battle for target five, only to see him fly through the air like a catapult stone, landing atop target six. Number seven fell to a crudely made cudgel wielded by Theo. It was only when Ashrem saw the last thug turn tail that he was able to take aim and fire without interference, sinking a bolt deep into the man’s torso with a satisfactory thud.

Below, the scout heard the sound of his companions diving for cover. “Ander,” he called. “I have taken care of the sniper.”

The woodsman peered upward, “Ash?”

“Yes?”

“You’d better get down here. We’ve got problems.”

*****



* Have you ever seen the amount of drool that comes out of a 6 month old? I mean, really!


----------



## Ashy

WOO HOO!!!  Excellent post, guys!  Fantastic cinematic sense of movement and action therein!  Do you guys give lessons?  

Gorgeous lil' one there too!


----------



## dshai527

Ashy said:
			
		

> WOO HOO!!!  Excellent post, guys!  Fantastic cinematic sense of movement and action therein!  Do you guys give lessons?




I give Enk boxing lessons whenever I see him. Does that count? 

BTW He's a slow learner. He falls for the same shot everytime.


----------



## sniffles

May I add my voice to the chant:  More More More More!!


----------



## Enkhidu

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I give Enk boxing lessons whenever I see him. Does that count?
> 
> BTW He's a slow learner. He falls for the same shot everytime.




Do you realize how hard it is to box when some guy's got your arm and keeps shouting "Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself," over and over?


----------



## Tamlyn

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> We've decided to answer Tamlyn's question about what happened to Aurora. But, since we're already hip deep working on the next post, we really don't have the time to do it ourselves.
> 
> So this week we're handing off the intro duties to Enkhito and Lil' "Two Bibs"* Aurora. Since Two Bibs doesn't yet have the motor control necessary to type, Enkhito will do the honors. Thank you.




Wow, thanks for the update. Now I need to pull my painted miniatures out of my own little one's mouth and get her to translate for me. But I'll get just as many Nemos sprinkled in with a few Shreks and a Dora.

~Tam


----------



## Rel

I loved Ashrem as the sniper who kept losing targets to his too-successful allies.  I've seen that happen in more than one combat in our group.  Memorably when I was playing a Rogue who kept tumbling into flanking position only to have his target killed by a readied action from his ally.  That process repeated at least three times before I could actually attack someone.


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> Memorably when I was playing a Rogue who kept tumbling into flanking position only to have his target killed by a readied action from his ally.  That process repeated at least three times before I could actually attack someone.




This becomes a common theme for Ashrem (Not the readied action part though) and I suspect for most rogues. We often hear Fett shout.."I have the sneak attack ability and I will find a way to use it. Damn You."


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

Y'know what? I think that was the best post you guys have written since I started on these boards.

Ashrem's view of the proceedings (his senses 'drawing' his surroundings and poached kills) make the ensuing combat really engaging. 

Cheers guys, you always inspire me, and often make me jealous.

Spider J


----------



## fett527

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> Y'know what? I think that was the best post you guys have written since I started on these boards.
> 
> Ashrem's view of the proceedings (his senses 'drawing' his surroundings and poached kills) make the ensuing combat really engaging.
> 
> Cheers guys, you always inspire me, and often make me jealous.
> 
> Spider J




You'll find Ashrem's acent ability becomes most useful.  I really tried to remember (and keep reminding dshai527) to use it all the time since he should use it as much as sight and sound.  He definitely relies on it as much as he does his eyes and ears.  I always ask what I smell in advance of what do I see.  Gives me a mental picture before we round a corner.


----------



## fett527

dshai527 said:
			
		

> This becomes a common theme for Ashrem (Not the readied action part though) and I suspect for most rogues. We often hear Fett shout.."I have the sneak attack ability and I will find a way to use it. Damn You."




Hey, I found ways to make it work- tumbling is a wonderful thing.  And since I've had the battle claws....


----------



## Enkhidu

[obscure reference]Look for a update tonight. Yes, or early tomorrow. [/or]


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Didn't we tell you? Early Tomorrow.*

Hey Enk, have you ever noticed that our writing always seems to slow down in the summer?

You mean as opposed to the blistering pace we set during the winter?

Yeah, like the...

I was being sarcastic.

I know, I was ignoring you. Anyway, I've got an idea to give us some incentive to write more often.

You mean like Piratecat did over in his story hour where he promised one update per week for as many weeks as he got pieces of fan artwork?

...

That was your idea, wasn't it.

Not any more. Now its _better_. What we need to do is hold another contest.

But last time we gave away dice - _my_ dice, and the rest of the bag wasn't happy about that. Remember how I couldn't make a saving throw to save my life after that? 

Those weren't save vs. death spells. Petrification and polymorph, maybe, but not death.

Well I don't want a repeat of that either way. What else do you suggest as a prize?

We could give out your home phone number.

What?

That way they could call and listen as I beat you with your dice bag. Or maybe we could give a free gift certificate allowing them to mow my lawn for a month. Oh, I know! How about the rest of the Chocolate Twizzers from last gaming session?

How about we simply ship them a signed copy of Small Beginnings?

Only if we can use the other stuff too.

Alright, alright. The prize for this contest will be one (1) package of Chocolate Twizzlers (unopened), my home phone number (disconnected, circa 1983), a free gift certificate to mow D’Shai’s lawn (good from December 2005 to January 2006), and a signed, bound copy of Small Beginnings (Annotated). So what should the contest be?

Interpretive dance?

Let’s broaden it a bit, and make it more like a sweepstakes. Anyone who posts an illustration/short-story/sculpture/interpretive-dance/big-budget-movie-with-plenty-of-star-power-and-special-effects-from-ILM-or-WETA relating to or inspired by either of our story hours will be automatically entered into the drawing for our prize.

Sounds good. What if they want to enter more than once?

We’ll let them. One entry for one piece of artwork, any style. If they want to stuff the box, more power to them (you big cheaters!). Just make sure that you get all your entries in before 6PM on July 15th, 2005 EDT, because that’s when we’ll be doing the drawing.

And with that, here’s your Tip O’ the Day: Stick figures qualify as art as long as they make Enk&D’Shai laugh.


*****

Ander scratched his hairy chin while listening impatiently. “I still don’t see the harm in letting Ashrem do what needs to be done, Ander,” Theo rumbled. “His argument is stone solid. He’s still fresh, and…”

The woodsman interrupted, trying and failing to keep the annoyance from his voice, “I don’t like it. It’s just too dangerous. Those tattooed thugs were waiting for us to show up looking for Aurora, and we can’t risk anyone getting caught by them.”

“These gutter rats will not catch me,” Ashrem said forcefully. As if in agreement, the sky let loose a rumble; a heavy midnight rain followed a moment later. When the feloine continued, his words were accompanied by the patter of rain on stone. “I was trained as a Forward Scout, one of the elite. I am capable of gathering intelligence on any field of battle, even one as dank and crowded as this. I have evaded men, and orcs, and demons.” The scout locked eyes with his friend, “And I will evade this rabble as well.”

Ander sighed. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?” he said.

Theo clapped him on the shoulder. “No,” he chuckled. “You know we’re right.”

“Precisely.”

“Then go, but be careful,” he said. “It’s just too convenient that we got ambushed the first night we started looking for Aurora. I think whoever set those trident-palmed lowlifes is tied to this ‘magekiller’ business, and I don’t like the idea of someone capable of murdering a wizard being mixed up with all of this.”

The scout gave a single nod before pulling his beggar’s mask over his face and disappeared into the downpour. Ander watched for a moment, looking for a hint movement, but found neither sight nor sound of his friend in the courtyard surrounding the old stone mansion. “Sometimes I forget how good he is at that,” he said. “It’s like he’s at home in the shadows.”

“I’ve seen you do the same; remember the time you disappeared in Orloff’s Wood?” the priest said with a snicker.

“Let’s just hope Ashrem fares better than I did,” Ander answered with a smile. “Well, I guess we should go meet our host. Worm had some nice things to say about him.”

Theo pursed his lips as they walked. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Worm making friends with someone living in a place like… what did he call this place?”

“The Keep.”

“That’s right, the Keep…” Theo trailed off for a moment as the pair entered the meticulously detailed foyer. “Can you see that young bull being friendly with the owner of this palace? Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a good boy, but usually he sets people on edge: like having a herd of cattle in your garden. You don’t know when or how much, but sooner or later they’re going to trample something.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Ander chuckled, slapping the older man on the back. As the two men moved inward, the woodsman scanned the long and broad hallway. _Palace is right, this is even nicer than Father’s winter lodge. I wonder what its like further in…_

The woodman moved through the archway at the end of the foyer, half expecting to see their host on a throne. Instead he saw the broad back of an ogre. The beast sat on a huge divan facing away from the men, laugh a deep throated laugh. It glanced back over its shoulder and bellowed, “Come in! You’re just in time for dinner!”

Ander reacted immediately, bringing up his staff in a defensive position. “Theo! We’ve got trouble!”

Ander expected the beast to charge, but instead it placed a hand on its generous and finely dressed belly and let out a chuckle. “There, Wyrm, are you satisfied? Looks like this one is as quick to jump as you were.”

The young man glanced past the ogre to see Pack and Worm trying and failing to keep straight faces. “Ha!” said the half-orc through a half chewed mouthful, “you should see the look on your face!” Pack giggled uncontrollably, and looked to be ready to fall off his chair. Ander scowled at the two of them, but they seemed unaffected by it. 

“You must be Grogger,” he said sheepishly, letting his staff fall back against his shoulder. 

The ogre stood and extended a paw-like hand, “Good to make your acquaintance.” _By the vine, but he’s big. No wonder Worm likes him._ Ander accepted the ogre’s grip, feeling very much like a child, and Grogger proceeded to greet Theo in the same manner. 

“You’re an ogre!” Theo finally said, as if still trying to grasp the concept.

“Half, actually. On my mother’s side.” Grogger grinned, showing off a gruesome set of fangs.

_If I can deal with Balsag, I can deal with you._ “Thanks for letting us stay here. I assume that Worm has told you that trouble seems to follow us around.”

“Don’t know about that and don’t care. Trouble I can handle.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “But if trouble happens in here, try not to break anything valuable.” He patted the woodsman on the shoulder, nearly dislocating it, and Ander bit back a yelp. “Oh, sorry about that. Still hurting from your run in the store?” Grogger asked.

“My what?”

“The trouble in the belfry. Pack told us about it.”

“Pack!” Ander said, “I thought you agreed not to tell anyone about that!”

“You said not to tell Worm about it, not Grogger!”

“Not to tell me about what?

“You’re little friend here had a run in with a bat. And lost. It was back at the burned out shell he and your brother were hiding in.”

Ander rolled his eyes as Worm began roaring with laughter that threatened to shake the walls. “You got beaten up,” the half-orc managed to say, “by a… a… bat!” The huge warrior sat heavily on the ground, holding his sides as he chortled. Pack joined him a few moments later. 

The woodsman felt a hand on his shoulder. “We should take a look at you, just to make sure that you’re not actually hurt,” said Theo, stifling a chuckle of his own. 

Ander gave them all a scowl. “It as a big bat! Ask Pack!” This caused another round of laughter. Finally, defeated, the young man sat down on the floor with a sulky sigh. 

“Well, it was big,” he mumbled, “to me at least.”




***

Ander lay on a very comfortable sofa, fighting the sort of sleep caused by a full belly. Luckily he had assistance in his battle with the Lady of Sand: Worm lay sprawled on a couch opposite the woodsman, and his snore threatened to take the roof off. Theo sat quietly in the corner, alternately staring and picking at a broad plate of uneaten food. During dinner, the ranger had asked the older man about the meeting with his father-in-law. The answer had been short and noncommittal, and ever since the cleric had sat in preoccupied silence. _I guess your family reunion didn’t go as well as hoped, my friend._

 In the background, Pack’s voice cut through the din, barking questions at Grogger like a hound after a treed fox. “Who’s the guy in that painting? He must be important. Is that a King’s Medal on his shirt? Wow! Do they still make armor like that anymore? What does this symbol here mean? Can I have this? Why isn’t he smiling in this painting? Is this a tapestry of the first Demon War? Did you know that Tor and Ion were one country back in the first war? They didn’t split until... Hey, this tapestry shows the map before the Great Rending!”

Ander chuckled and sat up, catching the hapless half-ogre in mid-shrug. Pack wasn’t even looking at their host as the barrage continued. “Have you had a chance to answer any of his questions?” the young man asked.

“He’s not slowed down enough for me to get the chance,” Grogger mumbled.

Pack stopped in front of a partially open door, “Hey! You have a whole room filled with furniture and stuff. Can I go in there?”

“No!” woodsman and host replied in unison. 

“Thanks!” Pack cried, already through the doorway.

Ander shook his head. “Sorry about Pack,” he said, “he’s just curious about things. He’ll keep his hands to himself, though.” _I swear to Althos, Pack, if you touch anything I will tell your brother what really happened to his hand painted chess set!_

“The little one is fine. It’s just a room of old heirlooms that came with the house. I have yet to unpack them since I moved in.”

“Huh,” said Ander, “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you: why here? It can’t be easy to live in the city being… being what you are.”

“You mean being part ogre?”

“Well, yes. I know Worm had a tough time of it back in Icemist. I can’t see it being any easier in the city. So why move here?”

“This place is my inheritance,” Grogger said. “When my father died thirty years ago, he gave it to me. It took me a while to move in.”

“Because of your blood?”

“Not completely. Politics played a hand in it too: the dukes didn’t like it when I showed up to claim the family estate. They never approved of my father, and didn’t approve of me either. So they blocked it for as long as they could. By the time I could actually set things right, Old City had pretty much fallen apart.”

Theo, his interest seemingly piqued for the first time since Ander’s questions about his visit, joined the conversation. “Excuse me, but we’re too far out in the hinterlands to get much news from the capital. Why have things gotten so bad in Old City? When I was a young man it was always a bit rough and tumble, but nothing like what I’ve seen today.”

“It was the demon wars.”

“Still? They ended almost ten years ago,” said Theo. Ander could hear a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Seven,” answered Grogger, “but by then the damage had already been done. I don’t know how it was further east, but here in the west we had local lords raising private armies and hoarding food. And then when the King died near the end of the war things got worse.”

“How?” asked Ander, stifling a yawn.

Theo answered his question, “My guess is that the dukes didn’t like the idea of following the orders of a four year old.”

“More like they didn’t like the Regent, Chancellor Ridaguegh,” said the half-ogre. “Without him, I figure some of the more powerful dukes would have made a bid for the throne. If you ask me,” he said, “Tor’s very lucky Therolgold didn’t rip the kingdom apart the day after we declared victory.”

“I had heard about the trouble,” said Theo, “but never knew it was that bad. How did the Chancellor stop civil war?”

“He didn’t, really. It was Valiant. Right after he won the Battle of Broken Isle, he headed back west and carved out a kingdom for himself. Brought his whole army with him, too. Ion didn’t like it, but it’s not like they could stop him. Anyway, when Valiant marched an army right into Trennor’s Keep and took the mountain passes, I guess Therolgold realized that if he started a war that Valiant might march all the way to the capital.” Grogger scratched an itch behind his ear, “Since then, it’s been a sort of a three way stand off. From what I hear, though, that’s going to change. Ion’s on the move again.”

“Why?” asked the cleric.

“Plague and famine. Ion’s been hit hard, and they’ve been massing troops near Dalendale for almost a year now, making raids to take livestock and grain. Mark me, there’s going to be war before the end of summer.”

Ander nearly started from his seat. “But how? When I left to come north, we had plenty of food. How could this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Gragger replied. But from what I hear it’s been getting worse for the past couple years. Last week someone from one of those border towns told me the famine is spreading northward into Tor, and that Valencia closed its borders.”

“Which border town? Was it near the wine country?” asked the woodsman.

“Don’t know. He died before he could finish his story. Course that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t tried putting a sword in my gut, but a body in need of news can’t be choosy about where he gets it from. Anyway, ever since news hit about Ion, the Chancellor’s been in a tight spot: if there’s war, either Therolgold or someone else is going to try for the crown, but the Chancellor can’t just pull troops from the border. So he abandoned Old City.”

“So the king’s guard is bought and paid for, while the poor rot.” The young man could hear the contempt in Theo’s voice as he spat the words. “Typical.”

Ander flopped back on the sofa and tried to digest the news, plagued by images of his brother and sisters on sickbeds, asking for their missing sibling. He closed his eyes as the two gray-hairs continued their quiet conversation, and finally drifted into a fitful sleep.



***

“Ander.” The voice was soft but the insistent tap on his shoulder rousing him from his sleep was not. “Ander, wake up. We need to talk.”

Ander opened his eyes to see Ashrem’s dark figure hunched over him, lit only by the faint glow of forgotten coals in the fireplace. “I’ll meet you outside.” The young man allowed himself a silent yawn as the scout’s form disappeared back down the hallway; then the woodsman quietly pulled on his boots and tiptoed behind him trying not to wake the cavalcade of snoring sleepers. 

As he stepped into the bright courtyard, he shaded his eyes. _We must have been more tired than I thought. It must be past breakfast already._ “What did you find, Ash?”

“A few scraps of information, and a pair of choice morsels.” The feloine rubbed his head as if trying to calm a headache before he continued. “I believe I can explain why you have been falsely accused of murder, and I have discovered more substantial information concerning our original errand.” 

“What?” Ander felt his pulse quicken, more at the thought of being on Aurora’s trail than at news of his innocence. 

“I decided relatively early in the evening that the best course of action would be to shadow some of the Academy’s students and listen to their conversation. I found a quartet well in their cups, stumbling their way back to the Academy grounds, and heard one of them complain to his fellows that his mistress had been outbid, again, for the estate of the recently deceased master Kelanen. The buyer was a Sir Brandimere, and it appears that he has purchased every lot that has come available from the Academy since last winter.”

“Were do we find him?” Ander said, a bit louder than he had wanted.

“I took the liberty of arranging that bit of business with one of his chamberlain’s servants. We have been surreptitiously inserted into Sir Brandimere’s schedule and will be meeting with him over dinner tonight. I have been assured that he does not make his own appointments, so he will not be alarmed; in turn, I secured the meeting with a small bribe under the pretense that we challenge his holding from one of the auctions based on actual ownership of a handful of items.”

“Good, good,” Ander said. He could barely stop himself from jumping at the news like a dog with a new bone. “So where exactly are we going?”

“Sir Brandimere’s manor lies on the far edge of New City, and I believe…”

From behind him, Ander heard Pack’s voice, “We’re going to eat dinner with a knight? One of the Lords of the city? This is great!” he rambled, “I mean, you’ll all need new clothes, especially you Ashrem because its not like you can go into high society looking like a beggar from the streets but I think I remember seeing some curtains in one of the rooms that might…”

“Pack when did you…” started the woodsman.

“We all got up when we heard you sneaking around Ander,” Theo yawned, joining the trio. 

Grogger and Worm also padded their way down the hallway. “Who’s your beggar friend?” the larger of the two said, “another mouth to feed?  I hope he likes meat.”

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary,” said Ashrem. Ander noticed that Ashrem’s hand had strayed to the hilt of his sword, and shook his head ever so slightly no. The scout relaxed, kept an eye on the half-ogre. “I must go and find out more about this knight. I will meet you at the ferry. Good day.” Ashrem then turned walked away without a backward glance. _Sorry, Ash. Meepo, Balsag, and now Grogger. One day you’re going to have to look past the skin. Not everyone’s a demon in disguise._

“Now what was this I heard about you going to a fancy dinner and needing something genteel to wear? Well, come on inside. I’ve got some trunks that I imagine the little one hasn’t opened yet full of clothes and things from my father. You’re welcome to whatever you need; it’s not like they’ll fit me any time soon!”

“Thank you, Grogger,” said Ander, “we’ll only take what we need.” Their host simply shrugged his shoulders and started back down the hall. “Pack,” he continued, “We’re going to need transportation, something we can move Ashrem in without too much suspicion. I need you to go out and get us some.”

“But Ander, I was going to help rummage through the trunks and look for stuff!”

“I know, Pack,” _that’s why you’re going to get us a ride,_ “but you’re the best at haggling, and it’s not like we have a lot of money to use.”

“For once he’s right, Pack,” said Worm, “You’re the best one for the job. You’re good at getting a fair price, and you’re not wanted for murder.”

Ander glanced at Worm, who glared back at the woodsman. “Right,” he said carefully, “you’re not wanted for murders you didn’t commit.” He said it slowly with just a hint of stress on the three most important words. 

Then Theo stepped into his line of sight and said, “Well, that’s settled. Worm, why don’t you go with him, just to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble?” He patted the half-orc on the shoulder, “After last night, it’s a good idea for him not to be out there alone.”

Worm grunted, “C’mon, Pack, let’s get our things and go.”

The cleric turned to look at Ander, “Now let’s get something to eat and take a look at those trunks.”

*****


----------



## Bubbalicious

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> But last time we gave away dice - _my_ dice, and the rest of the bag wasn't happy about that. Remember how I couldn't make a saving throw to save my life after that?
> 
> Those weren't save vs. death spells. Petrification and polymorph, maybe, but not death.
> 
> Well I don't want a repeat of that either way. *****





Maybe Enk would like something to give him immunity from badgerfication!!!


----------



## Rel

Great update and I like the contest idea.  Here is my first entry, a picture of Ashrem sneaking off into the night:














Not my best work maybe, but I think it captures the feel of the character.


----------



## Black Bard

Great update, guys! 
I'm trying to sculpt some _animated_ Heroes of Icemist chess pieces for the contest!
However, I nust confess I'm having a rough time with the Worm piece... He never stops grappling!!!


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

nice update once again... good writing for Pack.

I sure as hell can't build a sculpture of pretty much anything, but those twizzles sound good so gimme some time. 

[violin]I've never won a competition before...[/violin]

Spider J 
- Hey maybe i should write a mini-deviant time line where a mind flayer prince gets _doored_ in by accident. Just a few paragraphs as the party gets obliterated (or can Worm make that grapple check?!?!?! HE MIGHT!!!!). Y'see, I'm already thinking.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Great update and I like the contest idea.  Here is my first entry, a picture of Ashrem sneaking off into the night:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Not my best work maybe, but I think it captures the feel of the character.




I'd really like to see this, but I don't see anything.    Did you forget to actually attach the picture or can other's see it?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> I'd really like to see this, but I don't see anything.




EX-actly!  You understand my art perfectly!


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> EX-actly!  You understand my art perfectly!



 

Wow.

I am really dense tonight apparently.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Wow.
> 
> I am really dense tonight apparently.




I blame it on the wine, don't you?


----------



## dshai527

fett527 said:
			
		

> Wow.
> 
> I am really dense tonight apparently.




*shakes head*
And I have to game with him.


----------



## Enkhidu

fett527 said:
			
		

> I'd really like to see this, but I don't see anything.    Did you forget to actually attach the picture or can other's see it?




I would like to point out that Ashrem (fett's PC) has the highest Spot check in the party.


----------



## fett527

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> I would like to point out that Ashrem (fett's PC) has the highest Spot check in the party.




Blah, blah, blah....BADGER!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Fett just failed his intelligence check!  (DC-5)

Hey, it could happen to anybody!

(You go in the room, and it's completely empty.....except for some shelves....
oh, and there's a bunch of stuff on the shelves....and some barrels sitting
around....oh, and a couple of treasure chests!!!)


----------



## Enkhidu

fett527 said:
			
		

> Blah, blah, blah....BADGER!




It's obvious that my comment is a sore Spot for you. I forgive you, though, because you obviously didn't see it coming.


----------



## Black Bard

Even unable to see Rel's art, I'm pretty sure Feet/Ash have managed a mental picture via his sense of smell... I think it would be something like that:


----------



## Ashy

Friggin' rockin' update as usual - I love the rich texture of the world peeking through the storyline - nice touch.  

Hurm - I sure would like them prizes, lemme see what I can come up with...


----------



## Enkhidu

Ashy said:
			
		

> Friggin' rockin' update as usual - I love the rich texture of the world peeking through the storyline - nice touch.
> 
> Hurm - I sure would like them prizes, lemme see what I can come up with...




Psst! The Annotated version actually has some extended campaign world background in footnotes and appendices!


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Psst! The Annotated version actually has some extended campaign world background in footnotes and appendices!




In that case, if I don't win the competition, I'll just hunt down whoever does, kill them and take their copy!

Won't that be nice!


----------



## Ashy

Can I buy a copy??? (if I don't win, that is...)


----------



## dshai527

Ashy said:
			
		

> Can I buy a copy??? (if I don't win, that is...)



 Depends on how often my Grass needs mowed. 

Speaking of sahuagin what part of Northern AL are you in I will be heading down to Gulfport in a few weeks and maybe I'll stop by on my way through and drop off a copy. hehe charge you for the shipping of course  

Likewise Rel, I'll be over in Gatlinburg for a few nights are you close by?


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Likewise Rel, I'll be over in Gatlinburg for a few nights are you close by?




I'm a scant 5 hour drive to the east from there.  Feel free to drop by.  I'll even have a cold beverage waiting for you when you get here.


----------



## Enkhidu

Ashy said:
			
		

> Can I buy a copy??? (if I don't win, that is...)




In all seriousness we'd love to be able to do something like this, but I don't think we can, legally. For us to cut it down to in house IP would gut the story.


----------



## Ashy

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Depends on how often my Grass needs mowed.
> 
> Speaking of sahuagin what part of Northern AL are you in I will be heading down to Gulfport in a few weeks and maybe I'll stop by on my way through and drop off a copy. hehe charge you for the shipping of course




LOL!  I work in Huntsville and live in Hartselle, both of which are just off I-65 (hint, hint!)!  I would love to hook up - email me and we can chat more about it!!    If you need a place to crash, let me know!


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> I'm a scant 5 hour drive to the east from there.  Feel free to drop by.  I'll even have a cold beverage waiting for you when you get here.




May just be a bit too far for us this trip. Maybe when little Aurora is older and more car inhabitable.   ...or we leave her with the grandparents. But we will definitely hook up. My family lives in Gatlinburg so we are down there often.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> May just be a bit too far for us this trip. Maybe when little Aurora is older and more car inhabitable.   ...or we leave her with the grandparents. But we will definitely hook up. My family lives in Gatlinburg so we are down there often.




I was sort of kidding.  I mean, I'd love to meet you guys but 5 hours out of your way is a lot regardless of whether there is an infnat involved or not.

But if you ever feel like taking a trip down to the NC coast...


----------



## Dawn

dshai527 said:
			
		

> May just be a bit too far for us this trip. Maybe when little Aurora is older and more car inhabitable.   ...or we leave her with the grandparents. But we will definitely hook up. My family lives in Gatlinburg so we are down there often.




Hey, we're heading up to Gatlinburg this summer (this weekend if I can arrange it).  It's one of our favorite get-aways.  My cell phone doesn't work in the Smokey Mtns so it's a great escape for me.  Not much beats sitting in a cool, flowing stream deep in the National Park with a cooler next to me.


----------



## fett527

Dawn said:
			
		

> Hey, we're heading up to Gatlinburg this summer (this weekend if I can arrange it).  It's one of our favorite get-aways.  My cell phone doesn't work in the Smokey Mtns so it's a great escape for me.  Not much beats sitting in a cool, flowing stream deep in the National Park with a cooler next to me.




Gatlinburg has always been an extremely popular vacation destination for Ohioians, partuclary Daytonians it seems.  6 hours down I-75 is a pretty easy trip.  We went every year when I was a kid (very funny that I probably crossed paths with dshai long before we met).  Dshai and Enkhidu were married there (no, not to each other).  Good times and great memories!


----------



## Enkhidu

So how are everyone's projects coming? Remember, enter early and often!

We should have an update posted sometime soon - it's about half done (and we might split it into two separate posts).


----------



## fett527

Thought I would bump this back to page 1 as we prepare the next post.


----------



## Tamlyn

*Other SHs*

Enk, stop showing off by posting in Sagiro's SH. Find D'Shai and get an update in here!  

(Previous griping made with tongue firmly in cheek. Nice to see others enjoy Sagiro's SH. It's the one that brought me to ENWorld in the first place.)

~Tam


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Enk, stop showing off by posting in Sagiro's SH. Find D'Shai and get an update in here!




Yeah!  Why can't you guys be more like *other* Story Hour writers who posted the final installments of their years-long Story Hours today?!  Huh?!


----------



## fett527

Somebody could post some fan stuff for the contest while were waiting.


----------



## dshai527

I'm confused...you want our next installment to be the final installment, but the campaign is still going on...although I could guess what will happen in the end. 

Ok here goes...
1) Ander dies....not heroic or anything he just dies because I hate Enk and he probably did something to deserve it, like eat the last chocolate twizzler or make that stupid hat'o'meter while I'm the DM
2) Theo shows up for a gaming session, but leaves early
3) Ashrem fights a demon and and leaves it with 2 hps as usual then says that he miscalulated his damage again so in a plane far away a demon dies
4) Aurora finally puts the baby to bed and shows up in time to roll damage from her spell and kills everything that the others have worked hard to barely damage
5) Worm...well that would be spoiling it wouldn't it
6) Pack grows up..hehe, but does he get the girl?
7) I throw out the mandatory plot twist and everyone hurries to make new level one characters to get started on the next campaign so they can see how their old characters changed the world.


----------



## fett527

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I'm confused...you want our next installment to be the final installment, but the campaign is still going on...although I could guess what will happen in the end.
> 
> Ok here goes...
> 1) Ander dies....not heroic or anything he just dies because I hate Enk and he probably did something to deserve it, like eat the last chocolate twizzler or make that stupid hat'o'meter while I'm the DM
> 2) Theo shows up for a gaming session, but leaves early
> 3) Ashrem fights a demon and and leaves it with 2 hps as usual then says that he miscalulated his damage again so in a plane far away a demon dies
> 4) Aurora finally puts the baby to bed and shows up in time to roll damage from her spell and kills everything that the others have worked hard to barely damage
> 5) Worm...well that would be spoiling it wouldn't it
> 6) Pack grows up..hehe, but does he get the girl?
> 7) I throw out the mandatory plot twist and everyone hurries to make new level one characters to get started on the next campaign so they can see how their old characters changed the world.





1) Enk's characters always die so this isn't a surprise.  At least he won't get reincarnated as a badger (for those that remember the 1st ed reincarnation table).
2)What do you mean by Theo showing up?  I don't know what that means.
3)Demons?  What demons?
4)Not true.  Well ok maybe that one time.  And that other time.  Then there were the kobolds.  And the....
5)Well, Worm is spoiled that's for sure.
6)doesn't he always?
7)So for those of you keeping score: plot twist=TPK


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I'm confused...you want our next installment to be the final installment, but the campaign is still going on...although I could guess what will happen in the end.




I don't really want it to be over.  It's just that I'm extraordinarily full of myself (a dangerous state of affairs indeed) since I finished MINE today.

I enjoyed your synopsis of the likely events though.


----------



## Enkhidu

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Enk, stop showing off by posting in Sagiro's SH. Find D'Shai and get an update in here!




Are you kidding? The reasons that I read Sagiro's SH faithfully is that its A) really old (I remember reading it when it was one update long and got hooked then) and B) so reminiscent of the way we run our games. The story arc vehicles he uses reminds me of several moments in our own games.

In any event, we decided to stack the other half of the post on in an effort to get things moving more quickly, and the extra 1500 words bogged us down. We'll probably have it up tomorrow.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Hey, D'Shai, you ready for...

Shhh!, I'm almost done reading this and want to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Miss what? 

I'm looking for the best deal when we trade Fett mid-season.

What in the name of all that is axiomatic are you talking about?

Well, his value is way up after last season's Rogue's Gallery stuff, and I think we can get some real quality for him.

You've gone crazy.

Like a fox! No one will expect this move so early in the campaign, even if we have to finish out the campaign with different personnel.

OK, I'll bite. Exactly what are we getting for him?

Well, the two best deals so far are either a promising rookie gamer interested in d20 Modern and a book deal, or two interns and a copy machine.

Hmmm, book deal? That's a lot!

Yeah, it's pretty good. I'm getting pretty good at these trades. Oh you're going to need this bag.

What is this duffle bag for; and what do you mean "getting pretty good," have you been playing baseball manager on the Xbox again?

No, but since I just inked a deal trading you for Rel and a "Gamer to be Named Later," I think I'm getting better. I've been trying to get rid of you for years.

WHAT?

You ship out next Tuesday.

Just hurry up and do the Tip of the Day.

When making trades for new players, always make sure to pad their XP totals.


*****

"Why are we stopped?" asked Pack, sliding down from his perch on the edge of the plush bench he shared with his brother. “Are we there?”

Theo smiled. “Not likely,” he said for the fourth time since they had entered the shuttered coach. “We’re probably waiting our turn to cross the bridge over Redbrook; it’s the quickest way to the ferry.”

The halfling began pacing along the tiny floor, weaving through three sets of legs. He jingled as he moved, a fringe of tiny bells hanging from his hood bouncing with each step. Within moments, the bard began humming along with chime; Theo wasn’t sure if his little friend even knew he had become a one halfling ensemble. _You know how to make this old man smile, boy. I wonder if the children would have been like you, or the grandchildren; or if that would have made a difference at all…_

“What’s Redbrook?” Pack asked. 

Theo rubbed his wet eye with his finger before answering. If anyone in the cramped coach noticed, they didn’t say anything. “It’s the river that separates the good side of Old City from the bad.”

“There’s a good side to this place?” grunted Worm as his littler but older brother clambered over him to get a look out the window. The half-orc shifted mid-clamber, toppling the halfling, who landed on his everpresent rucksack with a clang and a thud.

“Ow!” shouted Pack, “That hurt!”

“You know,” said Ander, “you would have landed on the seat if you hadn’t insisted on bringing that thing.” The Ionian sounded annoyed to the older man. Then the woodsman sighed and leaned his head back as he shut his eyes. As a result, he never saw both Worm and Pack screw up their faces in the worst Ander impersonation and silently mouth the warrior’s words right back at him.  

Theo stifled a laugh by clearing his throat and quickly changed the subject. “I tell you what, Pack. I don’t think a halfling and an old man riding on a carriage will cause a stir. Why don’t we get up top and take a look around and let these two get some rest? Sound good to you?”

“You bet!” said Pack, already making for the carriage door. The door came open with a slap, flooding the tiny cabin with the light of the setting sun. Theo saw Ander flinch, and stepped between the younger man and opening. _It wouldn’t do to have too many questions this close to the ferry, would it son? _

The priest squinted for a moment as he let tired eyes grow accustomed to the sunlight and stretched cramped limbs. “So, Pack,” he started, “do you need some help…”

The halfling already sat atop the carriage next to the driver. “I guess not,” Theo said to himself. 

“Hey! It looks like we’re moving again. You’d better hurry, Theo!” said Pack, extending a hand toward the old cleric.

Theo chuckled. “I’ll just use the ladder,” he said. His knees popped and creaked with each step, and when he finally settled himself on the driver’s bench, he rubbed them furiously._ I should have brought that poultice with me_, he thought. A few moments later, the coach lurched forward over the bridge; the clip-clopping octet of its team’s hooves signaled their crossing.

For a while, Theo watched Old City from his perch atop the quickly moving carriage, almost oblivious to the torrent of questions from the halfling sitting next to him. Luckily, most of them seemed directed at the driver. _The people haven’t changed much_, he thought as they passed a not-quite-poor family holding hands as they walked down the crowded street. _Neither have the buildings_. Down a sidestreet, the cleric caught a glimpse of huge tavern, a place he had frequented in his youth. _That place brings back memories: Ivar and me, back to back against the bar. Right before I met… _

Theo felt the wetness in his eyes again, and made a show of retrieving a pipe from his vestments. "Well Pack, what do you think?" he coughed.

“About what?” the bard asked.

“Oh, anything I suppose.”

“Well I guess I expected Tor to be, you know, _cleaner_, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I like the buildings, and view is nice, and I guess the ferry ride will be fun, and it’s sort of neat that Grogger is descended from Trennor, and I never thought I’d see Ander all dressed up, and can you imagine the look on Ashrem’s face when he sees what we picked out for him? And…”  

“Wait, what was that about Grogger?" Theo asked incredulously.

"Well, remember when you said that we needed to find Ander a sword or a dagger or something to wear because he was being stubborn about his staff and you told him ‘you can’t keep a quarterstaff with you during dinner, boy, it’s just not done’?” Theo heard the driver stifle a laugh as the bard mimicked the priest’s voice. Pack continued, “Well while you were getting into you’re vestments Ander found one at the bottom of one of the trunks; he thought it was just an old ceremonial sword or something because it went with his outfit and he said it felt wrong when he swung it but said it was better than nothing so he’d make due, and then Worm laughed at and said that a real warrior didn't need a weapon at a feast, and…” 

“Pack, how is this about Grogger?” Theo interrupted.

“Oh! Well Ander and Worm don’t think the sword is worth much, but I know better. That’s Trennor’s Sword.” Pack said it as if it were a fact.

“Pack, what’s your favorite song?”

“The one where all the girls say ‘…and chase me round again!’ and run in a circle.”

“You’re _other_ favorite song.” The cleric said with a chuckle.

“_Trennor’s Triumph._ Why?”

“And what does it say about Trennor?”

“That he was buried with his sword.”

“So that sword couldn’t be Trennor’s. Right?”

“I thought so too until I heard a new version at Festival! Turns out that in Caine Freeport’s version, the one that the minstrel from Tor sang during the competition, he specifically says that Trennor was buried with the Sword of Sorrows, the sword he got as a gift from the elves, not the sword that slew a thousand demons! Isn’t that neat?”

“But Pack, that doesn’t mean that it’s this sword.”

“But I looked on the hilt and it had the inscription ‘The boundary between good and evil is defined by me’ in old Argish and the pommel is a stamp of red ruby and everything! And that means that’s its Trennor’s!”

“And I suppose that means that since Grogger’s inheritance has Trennor’s sword in it that he’s actually one of Trennor’s descendents?”

“See? And when I asked Grogger about it he said ‘how else do you think I inherited this old manor?’ It’s obvious!”

“No, Pack.”

“But…”

“Pack, this is beginning to sound like the time you claimed that you saw that herd of cows fly after a bunch of the boys played that practical joke on Onkus.”

“That’s exactly what Worm said,” Pack muttered. “And he was the one I was trying to protect: traitor.” The halfling’s voice was the most sullen Theo had ever heard.

Theo patted his small friend on the shoulder. “It’s not as bad as all that,” he said as the coach began to slow. “We’ve just hit the place where we board the ferry. See?” The cleric pointed into the distance, where a handful of grooms prodded a score of horses onto the huge raft. 

“Hey, isn’t that Ashrem?” said the halfling, pointing in the nearly the same direction. “He looks… dizzy.”

Theo peered across the dusty street to see the familiar, bandage-wrapped frame of his friend. The scout was slumped against the wall with a hand to his head, looking ill. “I’ll be right back,” said the cleric, “stay here.” With that the aging priest dropped gingerly to the ground and trod across the roadway. Strangely, the normally keen-eyed feloine did not seem to see him. “Greetings, friend,” he said as he neared, for the benefit of passersby. “Do you need some help?”

Ashrem looked back at him as if surprised. “Yes, Brother,” the scout said, “I believe I do.”
“I know just the thing to cure what ails, my son. Follow me.” With that, the pair moved toward the coach; Theo watched with some concern as the feloine moved with somewhat less than his absolute sense of balance and compsure, as if something weighed heavily on him. When he reached the carriage door, he knocked once and ushered Ashrem inside. “Pack and I are going to stay up top,” he said quietly, “while you get ready. Ashrem, let me know if you need any help; you look like you’ve seen better days.”

“We’ll let you know, Theo,” said Worm, leaning into the light.

As the door shut, Theo heard Ander, “So, Ash, what did you find?”


***


Ashrem shifted uncomfortably in his cushioned seat, the embroidery of the ornate wine-colored tunic catching on his fur. “I do not suppose you procured a different set of clothing,” he said as he rubbed the back of his aching head. The pain, which had begun the instant he had crossed the wall into Tor the previous night, was growing worse. “Purple is normally a color reserved for nobility among my people.”

“Bah! Pack’s got a bunch of curtains he mangled,” said Worm, looking comfortable in a loose fitting surcoat, “but that’s about it unless you plan on shrinking before we eat. Want them?” The half-orc patted the halfling’s rucksack beside him.

“At this juncture,” growled the feloine, “I am a whisker away from wearing my fur and little else!” The scout, hearing the growing frustration in his voice, stopped himself short and took a deep breath before continuing. “Yes, please do. Depending on the cut of the cloth, I may be able to improvise something passable in a more traditional Island style.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Ash?” asked Ander from beside him. “It’s not a problem that you weren’t able to find anything else on Brandimere.”

Ashrem glared at his friend with eyes that refused to focus. “I will be fine, Ander,” he said, “It has simply been an exhausting and uncomfortable day.” Through the blur, he could see concern on the woodsman’s face. 

“How does he fit all this in here?” Worm said from across the coach. The huge warrior had opened his brother’s backpack and begun a pile next to it. “Ha! Here!” he said, fishing a fistful of folded cloth from the leather container and handing it to the scout.

The feloine held up the cloth. It was the color of seafoam and surprisingly well cut, lacking the frayed edges he had expected. “Thank you. I believe this will suffice. In any event,” he continued, turning back to his friend as he began measuring the fabric and making more complex folds, “I did not say that my search for information was entirely fruitless.” The words felt strange as they escaped from his lips, as if they were both the barest truth and the blackest lie he had ever spoken. 

“Yes you did, Ashrem,” said Worm. “It was the first thing out of your mouth when you got in.”

“Implausible,” said the scout indistinctly, “Both last night and today I saw…”

Ashrem stifled a scream as white hot needles of pain jabbed his temples. He felt a pair of hands restraining him, one wrist engulfed in a vise-like grip that held Razor in its sheath with overwhelming force. For a long moment, the scout strained against his captors. Then his limbs went limp as he fell into darkness.


***


The feloine awoke to the soothing sway of the moving carriage. He opened his eyes to see Ander across from him, a pair of familiar short swords across his knees. “He’s awake,” said the warrior to the aging priest seated next to Ashrem.

The scout rubbed his head, noting that the pain in his head had receded to a more manageable level. “After a fashion, I suppose,” he said. “For how long have I been unconscious?”

“Not long,” said Theo, “we just disembarked off the ferry a little while ago.” The cleric slid open a tiny door in the front wall of the chamber, flooding it with a ray of fading sunlight. An instant later, the hole was filled with a tiny face.

“Ashrem? Is he going to be alright, Theo? Hey, you’re awake!”

Ashrem blinked. “Yes, Pack, I am awake. How nice of you to notice.”

“Good! Theo said you weren’t really sick because his prayers didn’t really do anything and he and I checked to see if you were enchanted or something but you didn’t glow when I sang my tunes and Theo’s prayers didn’t bring you out of it so I just figured you were really tired but Theo said that something was wrong but now you’re all better and that’s great!”

“Thank you for your concern, Pack. I am feeling much better, though I am having a difficult time remembering…”

“Remembering what?” asked the Ionian.

“It is difficult to explain. My last distinct memory is leaving our shelter in Old City last night. I vaguely recall meeting you this morning, but it seems almost as if it were a dream.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” said Theo. “Maybe we should just cancel tonight, Ander.”

Ashrem glanced at Ander, who hesitated before answering, “Ash, if you need us to, we’ll turn this thing around right now and get you back to get some rest.” The woodsman had a familiar look on his face, one that the feloine had seen often enough to grasp its meaning. _This is important enough to you, my friend. I will not take your hope from you. _

“I do not believe that will be necessary, Brother,” said the scout. “My involuntary rest seems to have cleared my head,” he continued, tapping his temple with a steady finger.

“I’m still not satisfied,” started Theo, “we just don’t know…”

“Brother Theo, your concern is welcome, but your satisfaction is not as important as the information we will receive tonight,” said the feloine. 

“Really? How do you know that?” asked Theo. “You said earlier that you weren’t able to get any more information on this Brandimere fellow.”

“Implausible. Both last night and today…” Ashrem stopped. “I believe I have uttered these words once before.”

“Yes,” said Ander quietly, “right before you passed out.”. Ashrem noticed that his paired swords had moved from his knees to under the seat and that the woodsman looked ready to pounce.

“Go on,” said Theo.

“I do not believe I can. I cannot remember what I was preparing to say.”

“Just relax and try again.”

“Both last night…”

“Further back,” coaxed the cleric.

The feloine looked at him for a moment, and then, as if of their own volition, the words came. “I did not say that my search for information was entirely fruitless. Implausible. Both last night and today I saw,” the floodgates opened, “Ander! He walked through the streets. I would not have seen him the first time if he had not brusquely brushed past my shoulder and nearly knocked me to the ground.”

The feloine glanced at his companions as he continued, the speed of his words increasing as he became ever more sure of his memories. “For a moment, I found myself wondering if he had simply not seen me. Yet almost immediately I realized that this “Ander” did not have Ander’s scent. In fact, it had no scent at all.”

“That would explain a lot,” said Ander.

“Indeed,” continued Ashrem. “Obviously I followed this creature through much of the night in order to divine its purpose. But, near morning, I was overcome with a blinding pain in my head. Recovering from the pain was enough for the creature to escape. Then I returned to tell you of Sir Brandimere.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this before, Ash?”

“I am unsure. I assure you I had meant to inform you, and after leaving I was sure that I had. I do know that when I left it was with the intent to find this creature again.”

“This is confusing,” said Pack from his peep-hole. “This morning you said you were going to find out more about Brandimere.”

Ashrem furrowed his brow, “I still only vaguely remember the conversation from this morning, Pack. While speaking with all of you I developed another pain in my head that, while not as severe, must have been enough to muddle my thoughts.”

“So what happened today?” continued Pack.

“As I said, I again saw this false Ander walking through the streets. After ensuring that it bore no scent, I tailed this thing throughout the alleys and streets at a distance. Throughout this, the pain remained relatively weak, though it persisted. Then, around the noon hour, I saw this double join a hooded figure and move quickly through Old City. Eventually, they arrived at a ramshackle building. When they entered, the hooded figure removed her cloak to reveal long red hair.”

“Aurora!” Ander nearly stood despite the tight confines of the carriage.

“I cannot say for certain. After the two entered, I followed to investigate hoping to catch a proper scent, but as I neared the door the pain became unbearable. The next thing I recall is being ushered into this carriage by Brother Theo.”

“This changes everything,” said Ander. “We’ve got to find this building. Can you find it again?”

“Possibly,” answered Ashrem, “though it may take some time. I find it odd that circumstances dictate that I track myself.”

“Then let’s turn this thing around and get…” The coach lurched to a stop.

“We’re here!” said Pack from the little window.

“Pack, tell the driver to get us back to Old City,” Ander barked impatiently.

Pack’s face disappeared. When he reappeared, Ashrem saw a nervous smile on his lips. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Ander,” replied the bard.

“Why in the hells not?”

“Because Sir Brandimere’s really looking forward to seeing us.”

“So?”

“No, he’s really  looking forward to seeing us.” 

Suddenly the door to the coach flew open, revealing a pair of large armored men with poleaxes. Two more identically dressed guards stood behind them. A fifth guard, appeared between them. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “His Excellency Sir Brandimere asks that you follow me so that dinner may be served.”

Ashrem could tell from the tone that it was not a request.


*****


----------



## Tamlyn

Curiouser and curiouser. 

Nice update. Well worth the wait for the additional piece.

~Tam


----------



## Ashy

Most. Excellent.  8)


----------



## Rel

I just now had a chance to read the latest update and I am once again impressed by the quality of the writing.  You guys are really good at dialogue in particular.  I think this is a failing in my own writing because I get hung up on the idea of not trying to put words in the mouths of the PC's that were not spoken by the players and I have a very poor recollection of exactly what is said by them.  As a result the dialogue that I've written tends to be very short and serves only to provide enough information to get the reader to the next scene.

The personalities of the PC's in this campaign are so well defined that you can pick them out even without any "said Pack" or "said Ashrem" surrounding them.  Whether this is simply good writing or good roleplaying (I suspect it is a combination of both) I don't know but the results are very solid writing that is fun to read.

Very nicely done, gentlemen.  And I'm not just saying that to build up my stock so that I'm assured that the trade for Enk will go through.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> ...The personalities of the PC's in this campaign are so well defined that you can pick them out even without any "said Pack" or "said Ashrem" surrounding them.  Whether this is simply good writing or good roleplaying (I suspect it is a combination of both) I don't know but the results are very solid writing that is fun to read...




OK - story time. D'Shai and I went to high school together, and we both took our first creative writing course there, from the same teacher. As I remember, one of this teacher's hot-buttons was "voice" (and I know I went on to see this same topic beaten like a drum in college). And, to this day, D'Shai and I call each other on voice issues just about every post.

For example, this post was one that originally lost the voice for Ashrem. My original draft for it (D'Shai and I take turns cranking out first drafts - usually I take dialogue heavy ones and he takes action heavy ones, but not always - besides, our styles have meshed enough that it gets difficult to figure out who wrote what sometimes) was a lot more confusing and bland as a result. But, after D'Shai called me on a bit of word chice here and some tone there, we suddenly had the Ashrem we (and from the sound of it, you) had come to expect.

But, I do want to point out that while the actual words get changed from time to time (because we're dealing with 2+ year old events, here), the delivery is as close as we can get to the way these PC's come across at the table. For example, Pack's player actually does do the run-on-sentence-without-taking-a-breath-thing (which is funny, once you find out that Pack's player is also 6 and a half feet tall with the build of a OT).

Anyway, we're glad that you like the dialogue, and want to say thanks for being patient while we get you through this background!


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> ...
> The personalities of the PC's in this campaign are so well defined that you can pick them out even without any "said Pack" or "said Ashrem" surrounding them.  Whether this is simply good writing or good roleplaying (I suspect it is a combination of both) I don't know but the results are very solid writing that is fun to read...




I'll comment as well.

It is a combination of both.  As Enk said the words aren't always the same especially since the action did take place more than 2 years ago in real time.  However all three of us discuss the sessions and try to be as accurate as possible as to what happened in game.  Also, the character personalities were defined by the players and just written to perfection in the story hour.  Ashrem begins as a refined, to the point, tortured soul.  I didn't always keep the low, hushed tones in my voice when speaking as him at the table, but I tried.  Ashrem's demeanor will shift dramatically and I can't wait to see how it comes out through the SH.


----------



## Ashy

fett527 said:
			
		

> Ashrem's demeanor will shift dramatically and I can't wait to see how it comes out through the SH.




Neither can we.


----------



## Enkhidu

All I'm at liberty to say is that the new Ashrem is grrrrrrrreat!


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> All I'm at liberty to say is that the new Ashrem is grrrrrrrreat!




"Show em' you're a tiger!  Show em' what you can do!  'Cause the tase of Kellog's Frosted Flakes, brings out the tiger in you!"

Am I right?!  Tell me I'm right!  No, don't tell me, you'll ruin the surprise!  Ok, tell me!  No, don't!


But I'm right aren't I?!


----------



## dshai527

Ashy said:
			
		

> Neither can we.




Slave Driver!  

Besides I'm on vacation!


----------



## Dungannon

Knowing Enk & Dshai, I wouldn't be surprised if it involves a female rakasta in heat.


----------



## fett527

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> All I'm at liberty to say is that the new Ashrem is grrrrrrrreat!





Man, Bubbalicious would be jealous of that one.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> "Show em' you're a tiger!  Show em' what you can do!  'Cause the tase of Kellog's Frosted Flakes, brings out the tiger in you!"
> 
> Am I right?!  Tell me I'm right!  No, don't tell me, you'll ruin the surprise!  Ok, tell me!  No, don't!
> 
> 
> But I'm right aren't I?!




I did say demeanor, not subrace.


----------



## Bubbalicious

fett527 said:
			
		

> Man, Bubbalicious would be jealous of that one.




Actually, That's way too obvious and far beneath my station of cheese.  The key, you see, to laying really stinky cheese at the table is to avoid the obvious and pull a cheesetastic gem seemingly out of thin air.

By the way, wait'll everyone gets a peek (in 3-5 years at this rate) at the new, improved Pack.  93rd percentile choad (thanks Enk)!!!!  'Nuff said!!!!


----------



## Ashy

Just wanted to let everyone know that I met Dshai and fam today as they passed through Huntsville for paths farther south and we even got a chance to break bread together!  

All I have to say is this:

"G G, W W, B B - A I A - L L!" *** 











***[sblock]"Great Guy, Wonderful Wife, Beautiful Baby - All In All - Lovely Lunch!"  LOL!  Seriously - It was great meeting Dshai and the family - I got even got some previews about what lies ahead in the SH's future - but no telling!  My lips are sealed!  [/sblock]


----------



## Enkhidu

He told you about a certain number, I see!


----------



## Ashy

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> He told you about a certain number, I see!




He told me lots - especially about you!    But no matter, it just makes me want to game with you guys all the more now!


----------



## Enkhidu

Ashy said:
			
		

> He told me lots - especially about you!




That's it, no fruit basket for D'Shai this year.


----------



## fett527

Ashy said:
			
		

> He told me lots - especially about you!    But no matter, it just makes me want to game with you guys all the more now!





Finally back in the game.  Great you guys got together.

I'll relay my hectic last few days and why I've been offline since Thursday a little later


----------



## fett527

Off-topic thread on why I was out over the weekend:

Mother nature throws my family for a loop


----------



## Tamlyn

Fett,

I hope the fam's back on their feet and kicking. I completely understand about the pet thing. My condolences.


----------



## Dawn

Damn.  Makes for a rough end to a vacation.  Never had the fire, but had the house broken into.  Leaves you with a creepy feeling for a while knowing someone else has been through everything.  
Glad to hear all is getting back on track for you and yours.


----------



## Enkhidu

In other news, July 15th is two days away, and we haven't got any entries for our raffle.

Except maybe Rel. Maybe.


----------



## dshai527

Just to add...I'm back from vacation..okay so its been a few days, but I needed a vacation to rest from my vacation. 

Quick overview...pictures later.
1) Met Ashy - nice guy and a snazzy dresser - didn't get to game with him, but did have lunch with him - made tentative plans to game next time we meet. Took a picture.
2) Went to Biloxi MS or there abouts for family reunion - did the family thing and then went gambling at the Pirates Bay Casino - Pirates+Gambling = Good times but - money. Took more pictures.
3) Cruised over to Ocean Springs MS - showed the wife my old stomping grounds - took more pictures. 
4) Traveled to Atlanta to meet Aurora's family - took pictures - her uncle is building his own house, by hand, outta granite...its very cool and will be awesome when completed. He introduced us to the International Market - great food ...I reccomend the Roast Beef and the Bratwurst.
5) Came home - did yard work - no pictures. 

So now that I am back you should expect a story update soon telling you when to expect the next comment about when the next post will go up or something. 

Enk, Fett and myself are considering still going to GEn COn this year for a day and I just wanted to see who amoung our loyal readers may also be attending to help sway the vote.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Enk, Fett and myself are considering still going to GEn COn this year for a day and I just wanted to see who amoung our loyal readers may also be attending to help sway the vote.




I'll be there!  And if you guys are coming, even for just a day, I'll do everything I can to make time to meet and (dare I dream) game with you.  Just say when!


----------



## dshai527

Hey we're only 1.5 hours away even if we don't show up and that's where i keep all my gaming supplies anyway. 

Okay maybe 2 hrs if you drive slow or there is Ohio Gardening going on. You know growing Orange Barrels Roses. Road Construction! Sheesh.


----------



## Ashy

dshai527 said:
			
		

> 1) Met Ashy - nice guy and a snazzy dresser - didn't get to game with him, but did have lunch with him - made tentative plans to game next time we meet. Took a picture.




LOL!  That, sir, is one compliment I've never received!  Thanks!    Again, it was great meeting you and your lovely family.  And gaming?  I'M THERE!


----------



## fett527

Thanks for the words of concern for my family.  Everything will turn out for the better.  They've got the estimate completed and started on things this week.  It will take almost 3 months unfortunately.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> Just make sure that you get all your entries in before 6PM on July 15th, 2005 EDT, because that’s when we’ll be doing the drawing.
> 
> And with that, here’s your Tip O’ the Day: Stick figures qualify as art as long as they make Enk&D’Shai laugh.




I just finished reading the original Small Beginnings SH and now I am nearly caught up on this one.  I must tell you that this is one of my favorite story hours.  I love the characters and the interaction amongst the group here on the boards.  I can't wait to read more!

Lucky for me I ran across the contest post just in time to enter!  So here is my entry:
--------------------

___|-|___
\/ \|?|/ \/
.....\ /
......| ..\O/
............|
.........../ \

--------------------
It's the "big" bat "attacking" Ander in the burnt out store.  (I had to add in the dots to make the formatting come out right.)

PS:  I'm from Utah and you like Utah, so if you want to show favoritism in this contest, that would be cool with me.  

PPS:  Unless winning the contest would really cause Rel to hunt me down and kill me.  Well, it's just Rel...so nevermind.  

PPPS:  Congrats on all the new kids and jobs (this is covering the whole time period of both story hours)!!

PPPPS:  Fett, glad to see that things are turning out OK for you and the fam.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> So here is my entry:




I like mine better but y'know "art is subjective" and all that.  I'm SURE that the Small Beginnings Gang wouldn't show favoritism over a little thing like sucking up to a new reader.

Or Utah.


----------



## fett527

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> I just finished reading the original Small Beginnings SH and now I am nearly caught up on this one.  I must tell you that this is one of my favorite story hours.  I love the characters and the interaction amongst the group here on the boards.  I can't wait to read more!
> 
> Lucky for me I ran across the contest post just in time to enter!  So here is my entry:
> --------------------
> 
> ___|-|___
> \/ \|?|/ \/
> .....\ /
> ......| ..\O/
> ............|
> .........../ \
> 
> --------------------
> It's the "big" bat "attacking" Ander in the burnt out store.  (I had to add in the dots to make the formatting come out right.)
> 
> PS:  I'm from Utah and you like Utah, so if you want to show favoritism in this contest, that would be cool with me.
> 
> PPS:  Unless winning the contest would really cause Rel to hunt me down and kill me.  Well, it's just Rel...so nevermind.
> 
> PPPS:  Congrats on all the new kids and jobs (this is covering the whole time period of both story hours)!!
> 
> PPPPS:  Fett, glad to see that things are turning out OK for you and the fam.




Welcome aboard and thanks for posting!  Stick figures or blank space....  This will be a tough decision!  Anyone else gonna submit something to make it more interesting????


----------



## Enkhidu

Remember that each entry gets you one raffle "ticket", so Rel and OW each have one ticket in the hat.

Yes folks, its just that easy!


----------



## Jon Potter

Well, I've started several pictures of Wyrm (my favorite, of course): one of him entering the half-ogre's tower, and one of him fighting the Trident thugs, but neither turned out well enough for public viewing, I'm afraid.


----------



## dshai527

You show me yours and I'll show you mine...ummm nevermind

Seriously just email it to us and nobody outside will see it. Maybe...if you're nice.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> I like mine better but y'know "art is subjective" and all that.  I'm SURE that the Small Beginnings Gang wouldn't show favoritism over a little thing like sucking up to a new reader.
> 
> Or Utah.




It would only be fair for me to win this contest as I have not made a cameo appearance in the SH like some other people we could name.  

To be honest, I think I liked yours better too...especially since Fett didn't get it and had to ask about it.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> Well, I've started several pictures of Wyrm (my favorite, of course): one of him entering the half-ogre's tower, and one of him fighting the Trident thugs, but neither turned out well enough for public viewing, I'm afraid.




Jon, I would recommend that you do not enter your artwork into the contest.  It will allow Rel and myself a much better chance of winning.    

On the other hand, I would like to see your rendition(s) of Wyrm.  Besides, it can't be any worse than the stick figure of Ander that I submitted.


----------



## fett527

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> It would only be fair for me to win this contest as I have not made a cameo appearance in the SH like some other people we could name.
> 
> To be honest, I think I liked yours better too...especially since Fett didn't get it and had to ask about it.




Sounds like somebody's entry may be lost...

_*fett527 runs off to get mod rights to thread*_


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

fett527 said:
			
		

> Sounds like somebody's entry may be lost...
> 
> _*fett527 runs off to get mod rights to thread*_




Fett, there is one reason that that was so funny.  You are so incredibly intelligent and perceptive that the one time something slipped past you was the only chink in your otherwise impenetrable armor.  We just had to take advantage of that momentary weakness because it will be the only chance we will get.

_Phew...hope that will save my entry.  Now I have to go wipe off my nose_ 

Besides, if anyone's entry should be lost it should be Rel's since his was the cause of the entire situation in quesiton.


----------



## Tamlyn

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> In other news, July 15th is two days away, and we haven't got any entries for our raffle.
> 
> Except maybe Rel. Maybe.




You know, I had a brilliant idea to come up with words and tune to Pack's song, "The Heroes of Icemist." But all the singing distracted the other cube dwellers in my office and they made me get back to work.

Sorry.
~Tam


----------



## Qwernt

Anyone know people who can do "Order of the Stick" type drawings?

I would love to see Ashrem done OotS style.


----------



## Rel

Ok, fine, I'll pony up some "real" art:

Ashrem is obvious and that's Worm on the right.  You can tell because he's more muscular, has a bigger sword and carries the "Bad MF'er wallet" that's poking out of his pocket.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> Ok, fine, I'll pony up some "real" art:
> 
> Ashrem is obvious and that's Worm on the right.  You can tell because he's more muscular, has a bigger sword and carries the "Bad MF'er wallet" that's poking out of his pocket.




Rel, that is a masterful rendering of Ashrem and Worm!  Well done!  I especially like Worm's dress.  Very tough looking.


----------



## Jon Potter

dshai527 said:
			
		

> You show me yours and I'll show you mine...ummm nevermind
> 
> Seriously just email it to us and nobody outside will see it. Maybe...if you're nice.




First let me just say, "Eewww..."

Secondly, all of my entries ended up where they belonged: crumpled up in the wastebasket.



			
				OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> On the other hand, I would like to see your rendition(s) of Wyrm. Besides, it can't be any worse than the stick figure of Ander that I submitted.




But unlike you and Rel, I'm supposed to know how to do this stuff. In college I majored in art, for Zuras' sake! Of course college was many moons ago and the computerhas spoiled whatever skills I may once have possessed. I hold myself to a higher standard.

And besides I game with Rel on occasion and I need to curry favor. And as you said, by NOT entering I increase his chances.

Remember that next time we're on Mars, Rel.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Ok, fine, I'll pony up some "real" art:
> 
> Ashrem is obvious and that's Worm on the right.  You can tell because he's more muscular, has a bigger sword and carries the "Bad MF'er wallet" that's poking out of his pocket.





Don't think that this gets you two entries.  

Not exactly the way I've always pictured Ashrem, but I always  had Worm pegged with carrying the "Bad MF'er" wallet.


----------



## fett527

Qwernt said:
			
		

> Anyone know people who can do "Order of the Stick" type drawings?
> 
> I would love to see Ashrem done OotS style.




Yeah, that would be cool.  I'm sure there's many a gaming group that would like to see Burlew do a rendering of their adventuring group.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> I especially like Worm's dress.  Very tough looking.




That's a "Chainmail Hauberk", just so's you know.  It's a special, masterwork version with a pocket sewn in for the wallet.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Don't think that this gets you two entries.




Actually I was under the impression that it did but I understand that Enk&d'Shai can "alter the rules at any time with no notice and laugh in your face when they do".  I cite:



> One entry for one piece of artwork, any style. If they want to stuff the box, more power to them (you big cheaters!). Just make sure that you get all your entries in before 6PM on July 15th, 2005 EDT, because that’s when we’ll be doing the drawing.




Ergo, last evening, I was "stuffing the box".

IYKWIMAITYD


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Actually I was under the impression that it did but I understand that Enk&d'Shai can "alter the rules at any time with no notice and laugh in your face when they do".  I cite:
> 
> 
> 
> Ergo, last evening, I was "stuffing the box".
> 
> IYKWIMAITYD



ahh, but you also quoted the entry deadline ther which was 6PM.  I'm showing your timestamp on that post as 7:23 PM.  So....

NO SOUP FOR YOU!


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Ergo, last evening, I was "stuffing the box".
> 
> IYKWIMAITYD




And I really don't want to know what you're stuffing.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> ahh, but you also quoted the entry deadline ther which was 6PM.  I'm showing your timestamp on that post as 7:23 PM.




Well yeah, but that's like British time or Wisconsin time or something so it only counts if you're British or Wisconsinnian or something like that.  Right?  Plus I had to work all day and come home to no air conditioning so that's an immediate 2 hour time adjustment right off the bat.

P.S.  With my AC broken, I could care less about your soup, you nazi!


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> P.S.  With my AC broken, I could care less about your soup, you nazi!





Now you've done it.  You've mentioned nazis on a discussion board.  

_*fett527 waits for mods to show up and close Small Beginnings*_


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

fett527 said:
			
		

> Now you've done it.  You've mentioned nazis on a discussion board.
> 
> _*fett527 waits for mods to show up and close Small Beginnings*_




And there you've gone and said it again.  

Any idea when the drawing between Rel and myself will take place?  The suspense is not killing me, but it would be nice to know.


----------



## Enkhidu

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Any idea when the drawing between Rel and myself will take place?  The suspense is not killing me, but it would be nice to know.




Well, since there's only two of you, and only two entries actually made it under the wire, I think  its only fair to determine this in a manner that everyone can agree with: pistols at dawn rolling dice.

We'll be using a twenty sided die (this is d20, after all). Since Rel posted first, he gets to call odds/evens; on the other hand, OaxacanWarrior gets to choose one character from the story hour to roll the die. We game tonight, and will check right before we start to see if both of you have checked back in.

Good luck!


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Well, since there's only two of you, and only two entries actually made it under the wire, I think  its only fair to determine this in a manner that everyone can agree with: pistols at dawn rolling dice.
> 
> We'll be using a twenty sided die (this is d20, after all). Since Rel posted first, he gets to call odds/evens; on the other hand, OaxacanWarrior gets to choose one character from the story hour to roll the die. We game tonight, and will check right before we start to see if both of you have checked back in.
> 
> Good luck!




Oops!  I've been gone all day and didn't see the message until just now.  If I'm still in time, I'll take "odds".


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Well, since there's only two of you, and only two entries actually made it under the wire, I think  its only fair to determine this in a manner that everyone can agree with: pistols at dawn rolling dice.
> 
> We'll be using a twenty sided die (this is d20, after all). Since Rel posted first, he gets to call odds/evens; on the other hand, OaxacanWarrior gets to choose one character from the story hour to roll the die. We game tonight, and will check right before we start to see if both of you have checked back in.
> 
> Good luck!




Can we do pistols at dusk?  I'm really not a morning person.

I vote for Grogger to roll the dice if I'm not too late.  Like Rel, I didn't see this until today.


----------



## fett527

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Can we do pistols at dusk?  I'm really not a morning person.
> 
> I vote for Grogger to roll the dice if I'm not too late.  Like Rel, I didn't see this until today.




Guess that means dshai527 is rolling, seeing as Grogger is an NPC.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

fett527 said:
			
		

> Guess that means dshai527 is rolling, seeing as Grogger is an NPC.




Yep.  The rules just said one character, not one player character...and I like Grogger.  Besides, it's always a good idea to kiss up to the DM.


----------



## dshai527

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Yep.  The rules just said one character, not one player character...and I like Grogger.  Besides, it's always a good idea to kiss up to the DM.




That usually just means a detailed back story which gives me more hooks to hang ya with during gameplay....no wonder all my players start the game out as orphans, with no siblings, families (wives, children), friends or even people who have ever met them before. But Theo has a family you say...wait is what I say and you shall see...hahahahahahahaha

Kylee will be given the honor of rolling for Grogger (at his request) and she wil use her big stuffed d20...I say rolling but I really mean throwing...I will post pics tonite of the event to show that all is fair.


----------



## dshai527

*Drumroll Please*

Okay and here are the results...
1) Kylee chooses her die - its not hard she only has one
2) A little kiss for good luck - or a snack
3) Getting ready - or not quite sure what to do
4) Here we go - or throwing things is fun
5) 15 is the big winner - ever notice how 15 has a 5 a 2 and a 7 right around it eerie

Looks like Rel is the big winner...
Enk Tell him what he's won.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Okay and here are the results...
> 1) Kylee chooses her die - its not hard she only has one
> 2) A little kiss for good luck - or a snack
> 3) Getting ready - or not quite sure what to do
> 4) Here we go - or throwing things is fun
> 5) 15 is the big winner - ever notice how 15 has a 5 a 2 and a 7 right around it eerie
> 
> Looks like Rel is the big winner...
> Enk Tell him what he's won.




It looks more like a 12 than a 15 to me...


----------



## fett527

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> It looks more like a 12 than a 15 to me...



 Remember never argue with the DM.  Or the DM's daughter's dice rolling.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> It looks more like a 12 than a 15 to me...




At first it did for me as well.  But then I realized that instead of an "isometric" view that the camera shot is straight up and down.  I say this largely because...

I WIN! 

I honestly hope this represents a turn in my luck because the rest of the week so far has been the suck.  Bigtime.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> I WIN!




Congratulations are in order...so congrats!  I hope that this does turn your luck around for you.  Your entry was better than mine anyway so you deserve this victory.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Congratulations are in order...so congrats!  I hope that this does turn your luck around for you.  Your entry was better than mine anyway so you deserve this victory.




Thank you.  We'll see how the luck holds up over the next couple days but so far I'm cautiously optomistic.

I must say that the really disturbing thing during this whole episode is to find out that d'shai has almost the exact same color carpet as I do.  Tell me, d'shai, do you also have two giant black dogs that keep it covered in a layer of hair like I do?  If not then I don't recommend that you obtain a pair.


----------



## Dungannon

Congrats and all that to Rel, but I can't help but wonder when the rest of us will receive a consolation prize, namely and _update_ to the Story Hour! C'mon, you're killin' us here.


----------



## dshai527

That's the basement carpet. It is slightly better than having a fuzzy (i use the term loosely) cardboard layer over the floor. As for the dogs, I have one but its not black, but he does gnaw the fur off himself in large chunks due to his allergies. Oh and he's dumb. I do have a cat that can shed with the best of them though. A huge orange tabby cat. 

On a more general note Enk and I should have the next post done soon as well as more fun and games, but until then...everybody needs to roll for initiative.


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

> everybody needs to roll for initiative.



I got a 3.

Congrats Rel, you deserved it. Though I should have entered my "Small Beginnings conquers the Underdark without light sources" entry (animated, 2 hours long)   

Awaiting the next chapter...

Spider J


----------



## Rel

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> Congrats Rel, you deserved it. Though I should have entered my "Small Beginnings conquers the Underdark without light sources" entry (animated, 2 hours long)




Please post it!  I've got some time to kill over the weekend and I'd love to watch it.   Fett can join me but he has to buy the popcorn.

I'd like to think I won on the merits of my OotS style picture of Ashrem and Worm rather than my earlier "Black Cat in a Dark Room" sketch, which I don't regard as my best work (I felt that the darkness should have been darker).


----------



## Enkhidu

A quick update on the update:it should be ready sometime in the next 24 hours, so look for it over the weekend. We'd have had it to you sooner, but we've been putting some finishing touches on the format for the raffle prize to make sure that it's coffeetable material.

Speaking of which, Rel needs to email me with updated (there's that word again!) contact info. You can use my gmail account address, which is the same as my nick here. 

In other news, we haven't decided whether or not we can get copies of this thing to anyone that wants it (apart from Rel, who'll get his soon). Or more accurately, WotC hasn't decided if we can. We're waiting on word from Wizard's IP department to find out if they would have objections to something like this. I don't _think_ there will be any issues (I think fan fiction falls under fair use), but we're just covering our collective butt in case there are.

By the way, we think we need to adhere to the OGL standards, including license reproduction, etc. Anybody with a clue on how to do that?


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Speaking of which, Rel needs to email me with updated (there's that word again!) contact info. You can use my gmail account address, which is the same as my nick here.




Ok, I'm tired, stupid and a little drunk.  So is that enkhidu@gmail.com or what?


----------



## Enkhidu

That it is, Rel.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

D'shai, why in the book of love are you jumping up and down?

Because I'm hopping mad!

Ooooookay. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I had some fun with our last contest. To both of our entrants, I don't know how to thank you guys.

I don't know why to thank you guys.

In fact, I had so much fun with the last one that I think we should run another one right now.

Are you sure about that? Need I remind you: two entries. Better give them instructions even you can follow.

How about this. This contest will be a short and easy one...

Like Fett during freshman year?

Better watch your kneecaps after a remark like that. Now on with the contest:

Since the last contest was obviously too difficult for some of our readers, we're going to lower the bar for this one. You'll have until Friday July 29th, 2005 to get your entries in, and a winner will be chosen by whatever the heck method we feel like. We reserve the right to alter the rules at any time with no notice and laugh in your face when we do.

Hey we need a prize!

OK Mr. Poopypants, what's the prize?

The module that started it all: The Sunless Citadel. Signed by the players including the soda stains and dm's notes.

Oooohhhhh. 

But that's not all, enter now and will throw in a hand painted miniature from one of our players to the lucky winner. 

WOW! I hope its Worm cause he's the only one who can paint well. 

He's won a few contests, but I am getting better. 

You would if you ever finished one!

Maybe it will be a half painted fig.

Given our posting schedule that's strangely appropriate.

 Tip O' the day
When running an internet fan contest always give creative prizes...but good ones!

*****



Ashrem walked slowly along the library wall, running his fingers along the bindings of the books on the shelf and enjoying the feel of the well worn leather.  He breathed deeply, savoring the heady mix of well aged brandy and old ink and parchment. When he reached the end of the stack he moved to the next, lightly tapping each book in line. Behind him, a light rhythmic thump kept cadence.

“Pack,” he heard Ander say, “will you please stop that?”

“But… An… der… this… is… fun!” Pack replied. Each word was punctuated with the same light thump.

“Leave him be,” grumbled Worm. “He’s not hurting anything except a few cushions, and this Sir Brandi-whatever can afford new ones from the look of it.”

Ashrem frowned as he heard his friend sigh helplessly. _The longer you wait to deal with this issue, my friend, the more difficult it will become._ He stood there for a few moments, finally turning away from the stacks of books and toward the plush furniture scattered throughout the center of the room. 

Brother Theo and Ander sat near one another in high backed chairs, while Worm lay on divan next to a long table, filling his glass of brandy nearly to its rim. Ashrem saw Pack’s head appear and disappear behind the half-orc’s massive shoulder. The little bard had been jumping on the sofas since they entered the room, and showed very little sign of stopping. For a moment, the scout considered schooling the halfling in proper decorum, but declined after quick consideration. Instead, the feloine moved to a nearby couch, his loose fitting wrap billowing behind him.

He settled on the plush cushions and let his head recline, taking a moment to admire the railed landings on either side of the library. The railing’s dark wood contrasted beautifully with the intricately carved ash doors that led to adjoining rooms. With a free hand, he cradled a snifter of brandy, swirling it gently as he breathed deeply of its tantalizing aroma. He closed his eyes, letting the thump, thump, thump of Pack’s bouncing keep time for his still throbbing head. That the ache persisted was unsettling, a constant reminder of both his quarry’s escape and the power of whoever – or whatever – had enabled it. 

The companions sat in silence for a while, until Theo’s whisper rumbled throughout the room. Ashrem grimaced, _One would think that after all that we have been through, Ander or I would have taught him how to properly whisper!  _“I’ve been thinking,” the priest said. “Given what we know now, how should we deal with Brandimere?”

“We’ve got to play it near our hilts,” Ander whispered back. The woodsman’s attempt was much more effective. “Don’t give him too much information.”

“I concur,” Ashrem found himself saying. “Discretion should be our byword, and we should volunteer little.”

“I don’t know,” Theo started, “I’m beginning…”

“Ash is right, Theo,” said Ander. “As far as Brandimere is concerned we’re simply people with a claim on Aurora’s Master’s goods.”

“I don’t like it, lad. I feel a storm coming.”

“Neither do I, but we’ve got a better lead right now and I’d just as soon get this whole thing over with.” Ander’s voice had a familiar tone to it – Ashrem had heard it once before, when the spring melt had filled a riverbed that had been dry a week before and the two had to walk the extra day to find a proper ford – to the woodsman, this dinner had just become one more time-wasting obstacle.

“Telling him who we are might be useful,” continued the cleric.

“Brother Theo,” Ashrem intervened with another whisper, “this dinner will end much more quickly if we feign personal indifference to Aurora’s whereabouts. By making this a matter of property, we should be able to conclude our business early and take our leave.”

The priest looked perturbed, but if he had any other comments he made them silently. _You are not built for this life, my friend. I wish that it did not wear on you so heavily._  When he did speak again, he did so much more loudly, his voice booming in its usual gregarious manner. “So, what do you think is keeping our host?”

Ashrem answered, “I assume he will be along shortly.” He sniffed. “I believe I smell our first course in the adjoining room.”

“Really?” said Worm, interested in something other than his brandy for the first time since he had unstoppered the bottle. “What’s for eats?” 

“Mutton and fresh baked bread.”

“That’s all?”

“I am afraid so, Worm.”

“What are the rest of you going to eat?” The half-orc laughed at his own joke, slapping his knee. Ashrem eyed the brandy, wondering how much of the young warrior’s tipsy behavior was real versus false. 

Worm’s laugh died at the sound of three solemn sounding knocks on the library door, as did the soft thump of Pack’s acrobatics. The door swung noiselessly wide, revealing two guards flanking a small, overdressed man bearing an ornate staff. Ashrem smiled – his contact had described the knight’s chamberlain perfectly, right down to his jowly chin. The chamberlain struck the butt of the staff on the ground four times, said, “His Honorable Lordship, Sir Kreshel Brandimere!” and stepped aside. Behind him stood a tall, solid man dressed in understated yet crisp clothing. 

“Good evening,” he said. “As you may have guessed, I am Sir Brandimere. Thank you for coming. If you will follow me?” The knight turned on his heels and led the companions into a grand dining hall, Worm leading the way, a toothy smile plastered on his face. Ashrem thought he could hear the half-orc’s stomach rumbling.


*	*	*

“Fascinating, my little friend!” said Brandimere through a beaming smile. “Please, tell me more!”

Pack wiggled as he fluffed the cushions on his seat to get a better view of the table and grabbed several more pieces of crockery. “This trencher is the main streets, see? And this napkin is the Shimmering Sword, and this salt urn is me! So all of the sudden the street falls in and out come all these kobolds riding…”

“Pack…” said Ander, his forehead resting on his palm.

“…humongous ants and they grabbed the children and set some buildings on fire,” he sprinkled some red spice on the napkin, “and then Whoosh! Back under the ground they went!”

“Pack…” said the woodsman helplessly. Ashrem shook his head in pity and wonderment. Since securing a seat at Brandimere’s left hand the bard had been breathlessly recounting the companion’s journey across Tor’s northlands, much to Sir Brandimere’s delight and Ander’s chagrin. 

The halfing continued to ramble. “And then – oh this is a good part – then… hey! Give that back, Worm! That’s Durnan’s store!”

“The second course needs more gravy,” the warrior said, matter-of-factly, emptying the gravy-boat-turned-story-prop over his plate. “Besides, I’ve heard this overdone tale so many times it makes my teeth ache. Tell him later while I take a nap. And have some of this fowl, its good.”

Sir Brandimere chuckled. “Please, Master Tosscobble, eat! I am nothing if not patient. And what sort of host would I be if I let you miss this fine feast?” The knight nodded knowingly to Ashrem, who’s plate was conspicuously full, and gave a lopsided smile. The feloine furrowed his brow beneath his low hood, _He suspects…_

“I have a confession to make,” said Sir Brandimere as he dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I have been dreading this dinner all day.”

“Why’s that?” Pack said indistinctly, his mouth full of pulled pheasant.

“Master Tosscobble, I am a collector of esoteric knowledge. I enjoy knowing the unknowable. Sadly, my talents as a youth were more martial than magical, and the Academy was denied to me. And so, when I became wealthy enough, I swore to use my fortune to indulge my more intellectual side.” The knight paused for a moment and sighed. “It is a shame that my chance to do so has come at the pain and loss of others.”

“We had heard…” started Brother Theo.

“I imagine you have,” answered Sir Brandimere. “Each time another of the Academy’s Masters was taken from us, I have purchased their estate ‘wholecloth,’ as my Nana would say. Their libraries and research are too important to be broken up by scavengers.”

“And you thought we were scavengers?” said Pack.

“That explains the rude welcome at the door,” said Worm between mouthfuls.

“Now Worm,” said Brother Theo, “I wasn’t too happy about the armed guards either, but there’s more polite ways of saying it.”

“Please,” said Brandimere, holding up a hand Ashrem supposed was meant to be placating, “let me apologize for your greeting. It was regrettably necessary, as a precaution. Most of the visitors I get due to my collection are pretenders, droning on and on about ‘the arcane right of ownership,’ but I have had, on occasion, a more… determined petitioner.”

Pack let out a low whistle, “I can see why you were jumpy!”

“Well, it all turned out for the best, didn’t it? Instead of a boring evening with stuffy academics I have the company of a fine bard, a strapping young man who knows good food when he smells it, a wise and esteemed servant of Zuras, and two travelers from far off lands. What more could a man ask for?” The knight raised his goblet, “To unexpected good fortune!”

“To good fortune!” said the companions, raising cups of their own.

“I must admit, though, that the minstrels returning from your Festival didn’t get things right at all.”

“What do you mean?” said Ander. The woodsman had not spoken much since being seated. _So you can sense it too, my friend. This evening may have been a mistake._

“The Heroes of Icemist; that is what you called yourselves, isn’t it Master Tosscobble?” Ashrem watched Pack gulp as his eyes grew wide. _“‘A holy man, a halfling boy, a woodsman bold and true; an angel wreathed in hair of red and wielding magic blue.’ _ That’s what they sing, I am told. But they did not mention someone as unforgettable as our large friend here, nor a guide from… where did you say you were from, my friend?” Sir Brandimere gave a sidelong glance at Ashrem; he had a twinkle in his eye as he asked his question.

“West of Arboria,” the scout lied.

“It must be wondrous land indeed where men go clad in garments that cover the flesh so effectively, and who’s customs dictate fasting during such a feast.” The knight’s smile had turned into a smirk. “How long have you lived in Icemist, Monje Ashrem?”

Ashrem nearly started at the use of the title. It was inaccurately used – Ashrem was strictly speaking not yet old enough to bear the honorific – yet the fact that Sir Brandimere had pronounced, correctly, said volumes. “Not long,” said the feloine. _Very well, I shall play the game._ With a smooth motion, he freed his head from its cowl.

The knight gave an approving nod, though the smirk still played about his lips. “I had begun to wonder how long you would decide to carry the charade,” he said. “Tell me, have you seen any of your countrymen since you’ve been in Tor, or while on your journey across the kingdom?”

“None,” Ashrem replied, letting ice creep into his voice. 

“You have not been to the embassy,” Sir Brandimere continued. It was a statement, not a question. This grows tiresome.

Worm gave voice to Ashrem’s thoughts. “Enough of this! If you have something to say, say it!”

Sir Brandimere sighed and took a slow sip from his goblet. “Come now, my friend. Do not play with me. Tor has not seen a feloine within its walls for many years. Your King Jerlemaine called his subjects home shortly after the war. I had thought to never see one of your kind again; you may very well be the last.”

Ashrem glared at the man. “Speak plainly, Sir Brandimere.”

The knight’s smile faded, “I cannot believe you do not know this.” He shook his head. “Less than one month after your king called his people home, they all vanished.”

“Vanished?” asked Pack. “You mean like hiding?”

“No, Master Tosscobble. Vanished.” Sir Brandimere locked eyes with Ashrem, his gaze full of pity. “Five years ago, the Mist Isles vanished, as if they had never existed.”

The ensuing silence was broken only by the sound of claws on wood, as Ashrem’s grip cut furrows in the grain.


----------



## Dungannon

Oooh, what intrigue is afoot in the world at large?  It is enough to make one quiver with anticipation.  Oh, and consider this my entry into your new contest.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

For being the first, we'll double your entry! Congratulations!!!!!!!


----------



## Dungannon

Good, now go tell Enk there's a particular PbP that requests his attention.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Since I didn't win the last contest here's my entry in the next one!  I hope my luck changes for this one.  Authentic soda stains...I can only hope and wait!


----------



## fett527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Good, now go tell Enk there's a particular PbP that requests his attention.





I'll check with him. I've been reading Tests and Trial since the beginning.  Been thinking of joining up and had even emailed Rae.  That happend right before some family problems came up.  Maybe now would be the best time to join in.


----------



## Rel

Wow.  Great update.  It really underscores for me how a well done Story Hour does not always have to focus on the action all the time.  Your ability to laden a brief conversation with the personalities and flavors of the characters in a way that is subtle yet effective has never been better showcased.  I LOVED Pack jumping on the cushions and the exchange with Ashrem.  Mystery is heaped upon mystery and I look very forward to the characters seeking to uncover each and every one.

Kudos as usual.

I suppose that this can serve as my entry into the latest contest.  But since I already own the Sunless Citidel (albeit one without your own particular brand of soda stains), if I win again, I'll donate that portion of the prize to charity (i.e. OaxacanWarrior ).  The half painted figure is all mine though!


----------



## Jon Potter

Well this certainly raises some questions, doesn't it?

What could swallow up an entire country and all but one member of a race? Is this related to Aurora's fate or completely independent?

And just what is this Brandimere guy's deal?

From a metagame standpoint: is this an excuse for Ashrem to leave the group for a time? Is it the DM's way of saying, "No more Feloines in my game"? The latter was my first thought when I read that bit.


BTW, I loved the lyrical snippet for "The Heroes of Icemist". That's the kind of detail that I really enjoy seeing in-game and in-story hour, for that matter.

And since I have neither "The Sunless citadel" nor a half-painted mini* consider this my entry.


*Okay. Who am I kidding? I've got more than a couple of minis "in production" at the moment.


----------



## dshai527

I will let the Feloine story unfold itself in the story hour, but I will make a few comments about it as well. When I was doing the conversion for third ed I really didn't know how the feloines would translate so I took where the previous campaign ended and thought about all the possible outcomes of the feloine empire (I actually did this for every country, but the feloine nation was the most affected. Enk and Fett also help and offer advice on world economics and politics as well as actions of established NPC's) The feloine race was therefore yanked as a player race. That is until Fett said he really wanted to give it a shot in 3rd, so we comprised a way that he could without opening it up for everyone and if it was unbalanced we would just discard it and say so long. I think you will enjoy the way things play out from here.


----------



## fett527

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I will let the Feloine story unfold itself in the story hour, but I will make a few comments about it as well. When I was doing the conversion for third ed I really didn't know how the feloines would translate so I took where the previous campaign ended and thought about all the possible outcomes of the feloine empire (I actually did this for every country, but the feloine nation was the most affected. Enk and Fett also help and offer advice on world economics and politics as well as actions of established NPC's) The feloine race was therefore yanked as a player race. That is until Fett said he really wanted to give it a shot in 3rd, so we comprised a way that he could without opening it up for everyone and if it was unbalanced we would just discard it and say so long. I think you will enjoy the way things play out from here.




I know I have....


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> I know I have....




*shakes fist* This had better be in the annotated document I've got coming, you bunch of teasers! 

BTW, Enk I sent you an e-mail but have not gotten a response.  If you didn't get it then let me know or just e-mail me via ENWorld.


----------



## Tamlyn

So what game mechanic problems did you run into with the feloines when switching to 3rd? Did you have to address anything after this game started?

Oh, and I'd love to add your half-painted mini to my legion.

~Tam


----------



## dshai527

He got it Rel. He's just too lazy to respond. Hehe.

There is a lot of annotation, but I don't think that we touch on that. I think we leave that to be touched on in this part of the story. None of the players had knowledge of this when game play started except Fett and his character Ashrem had no knowledge. They come from a small hick town where news very rarely reaches. You shoudl understand more after the next post. Hopefully. These have been the hardest posts to write. Trying to get the story just right and fill in history holes for new readers.


----------



## dshai527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> So what game mechanic problems did you run into with the feloines when switching to 3rd? Did you have to address anything after this game started?
> 
> Oh, and I'd love to add your half-painted mini to my legion.
> 
> ~Tam




This was right when 3rd ed came out and we didn't quite know how everything worked so we just winged it. I was going to reintroduce the feloines at a later time when we were more comfortable with the new system, but Fett wanted to leap before we looked. We really haven't had any problems, except that I always forget the scent ability, but other than that he has been balanced. 

When we first posted the stats some people thought that they should be +1 LA but I think that would not work for us. None of us are power gamers so things tend to work out and everybody is real good about toning down if they find something that sways the power base. We discuss rules and spells before every sessions and even change things if we don't like them. I never make a decision without majority support from the group. (And yes the majority does vote for Enk to die every session, but then we don't want him to take his mat and go home mad.)


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> So what game mechanic problems did you run into with the feloines when switching to 3rd? Did you have to address anything after this game started?
> 
> Oh, and I'd love to add your half-painted mini to my legion.
> 
> ~Tam




It was mostly keeping the character a playable race while keeping the abilities we wanted the feloines to have.  As dshai527 said some feedback that we got was that it need the LA +1, (mostly because of natural weapons.  I will say I have not made an attack with natural weapons throughout the entire game so far.) but we didn't play it that way.
Here's the link to the beginning of the Rogue's Gallery thread which has the stat block for Ashrem and everyone else at 2nd level on the first page (you'll find Ashrem at 13th level on the last page):  http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=24525  It hasn't been updated in awhile, but that will change as we go up in levels, get stuff and travel to different places in the story.  there is still very relevant information throuhout the thread if you haven't looked through it yet.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *shakes fist* This had better be in the annotated document I've got coming, you bunch of teasers!...




Sorry Rel.  When things become critical to the story line we just can't give out too much info.  

You wouldn't want to ruin the story, would you?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Sorry Rel.  When things become critical to the story line we just can't give out too much info.
> 
> You wouldn't want to ruin the story, would you?




Fett I thought the deal was that you don't begrudge me my infantile outbursts and I don't begrudge you your smug insider knowledge.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> I suppose that this can serve as my entry into the latest contest.  But since I already own the Sunless Citidel (albeit one without your own particular brand of soda stains), if I win again, I'll donate that portion of the prize to charity (i.e. OaxacanWarrior ).  The half painted figure is all mine though!




Wahoo!!  Well now I hope that either Rel or I win the newest contest.

Rel, you're my new hero...you're right up there with D'shai, Enkhidu, and Fett now.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Rel, you're my new hero...you're right up there with D'shai, Enkhidu, and Fett now.




I see that the list of OaxacanWarrior's heroes is long, but distinguished...


(anybody want to finish that joke? )


----------



## Dungannon

Rel said:
			
		

> I see that the list of OaxacanWarrior's heroes is long, but distinguished...
> 
> 
> (anybody want to finish that joke? )



I'm not sure Eric's Grandma would approve.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Fett I thought the deal was that you don't begrudge me my infantile outbursts and I don't begrudge you your smug insider knowledge.




I thought the devious icon had a little bit more smile to it.  All tongue in check.

Back to our recgularly scheduled teasing banter...


----------



## fett527

...you will notice that the Mist Isles are nowhere to be seen on the map.  Nor are the Rift Isles.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> Well this certainly raises some questions, doesn't it?
> 
> What could swallow up an entire country and all but one member of a race? Is this related to Aurora's fate or completely independent?
> 
> And just what is this Brandimere guy's deal?
> 
> From a metagame standpoint: is this an excuse for Ashrem to leave the group for a time? Is it the DM's way of saying, "No more Feloines in my game"? The latter was my first thought when I read that bit.





Actually, when D'Shai wants to "exit, stage left" a PC (usually because someone is absent for a considerable time and playing too many NPC's makes D'Shai kinda confused), he just makes a "mysterious blue portal" appear and swallow the character up.  He actually hasn't done that in this campaign, probably because this world is closed off to other dimensions (for now) and because when characters get "blue portalled" it makes Enk confused and he keeps talking to them.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> All tongue in check.




Ha!  If only I could keep my tongue in check! 

C'mon Fett, you know I was kidding too!  You'll have to try harder than that to offend me.  Maybe if you talked some smack about my haircut or how I'm dressed.  But to do that you'll *have to come to GenCon!*  (So, have you guys figured out whether you can break away for a day to come visit?)


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Ha!  If only I could keep my tongue in check!
> 
> C'mon Fett, you know I was kidding too!  You'll have to try harder than that to offend me.  Maybe if you talked some smack about my haircut or how I'm dressed.  But to do that you'll *have to come to GenCon!*  (So, have you guys figured out whether you can break away for a day to come visit?)





_*fett527 shakes the magic 8 ball*_

"Outlook not so good."


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

Okay. Here is my entry. Using my vast and unsympathetic design skills, I have created this... a picture of Ashrem after missing all those shots on the roof that one time:

Spider J


----------



## Rel

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> Okay. Here is my entry. Using my vast and unsympathetic design skills, I have created this... a picture of Ashrem after missing all those shots on the roof that one time:
> 
> Spider J




That whole scene makes a lot more sense now that I see how messed up and tiny his crossbow is.  Thanks for posting that, SJ.


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

Rel said:
			
		

> That whole scene makes a lot more sense now that I see how messed up and tiny his crossbow is.  Thanks for posting that, SJ.



It's a masterwork. They are _meant_ to look and shoot like that. Anyway... would you sell a crossbow to a cat?


----------



## fett527

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> It's a masterwork. They are _meant_ to look and shoot like that. Anyway... would you sell a crossbow to a cat?




Certainly wouldn't want it to have a gun:

http://www.freep.com/news/latestnews/pm3118_20050309.htm


----------



## Tamlyn

fett527 said:
			
		

> Certainly wouldn't want it to have a gun:
> 
> http://www.freep.com/news/latestnews/pm3118_20050309.htm




Sounds like Ashrem could take some lessons from that cat. At least it's one for one.


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Sounds like Ashrem could take some lessons from that cat. At least it's one for one.




I must defend Ashrem's honor!   Remember he took this enemy down with one shot:



> The feloine did not blink as he took aim and pulled back on the crossbow’s release, the mechanism spitting out the bolt like the snap of the hooded snakes Ander had seen in his youth. The iron missile flew forward to strike its target directly in the horned head before falling straight down to the floor. The winged devil again began to laugh and dance, frolicking in the air.
> 
> Ander looked down at the seemingly useless little bolt and back at the flying devil, a smile forming on his face as wide as the one that Ashrem himself now sported as he recognized the missile for what it was: one of the feloine’s special bolts left over from his service during the demon wars. The scout had once told him that the missiles were specially blessed by the servants of the War Maiden Balsta, meant to pierce the evil aura that protected demons.
> 
> Suddenly, the Imp’s frolicking turned to wild contortions as the creature tore at its head with its claws. “What have you done? The pain!”
> 
> Ander watched as energy crackled around the devil causing the creature’s leathery hide to blister and crack like mud on a dry sunny day. Shafts of brilliant light emanating from deep within pierced the devil’s limbs, growing brighter with each passing breath, until with a bright flash all that remained was a bit of smoke and a few ashes that drifted silently towards the floor.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Yeah, but he was held and had two hit points left!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Round two begins!*

Wow, D'Shai. I don't think I've ever seen such a vicious and ruthless prelimanary round. And now that the real tournament has started, I'm just floored by the possibilities.

Less talking and more violence!

Round two...

FIGHT!

Link to current standings!


----------



## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> FIGHT!




*Without hesitation, Rel gives Dungannon a brutal, virtual, megawedgie.*


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *Without hesitation, Rel gives Dungannon a brutal, virtual, megawedgie.*




Wow, that'll leave a mark...a _skid_mark.  



And as of this post Rel has 4,*527* posts.  Way to go Rel!!!!!


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> And as of this post Rel has 4,*527* posts.  Way to go Rel!!!!!




I did it all for you, fett!   

Wan't me to go ahead and start singing "Wind Beneath My Wings" now?


----------



## Dungannon

Hey, I wasn't ready.  That's dirty fighting.  Just for that, take _this_!

_Dungannon gives Rel the ol' 'Three Stooges' eyepoke & headslap_


----------



## Rel

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Hey, I wasn't ready.  That's dirty fighting.  Just for that, take _this_!
> 
> _Dungannon gives Rel the ol' 'Three Stooges' eyepoke & headslap_




"Oh, a WISE GUY, eh?!..."  <-- (Ha! You only got one eye!)


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> I did it all for you, fett!
> 
> Wan't me to go ahead and start singing "Wind Beneath My Wings" now?




Nah.  The moment has passed.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Man, Rel and Dungannon are certainly going at it hammer and tongs.

I would have said tooth and nail, but then again I'm not pretentious.

Quiet, you. Anyway, I figure that's why Dawn was able to pull such a sweeping victory against Dungannon this round.

And that's why he's headed to the loser's bracket, or as we like to call it - Fresno.

I hate Fresno.

And it hates you. But you're not important right now...

Don't you mean "that's not important right now?"

I meant what I said and I said what I meant. An elephant...

And how about that matchup between the Spider and the HULK, what a massacre.

Yeah. HULK smashed.

And with this round over, what will next round hold?

Link to new standings!


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

> And how about that matchup between the Spider and the HULK, what a massacre.
> 
> Yeah. HULK smashed.




Tell me about it. The damn guy is invulnerable. But the bowel-disrupter (set to "anal carnage") had a wonderful effect on the big guy.

Sigh. Maybe next round. (Spider prepares a _Cube_-style cheesewire trap)

Spider J


----------



## Rel

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> Tell me about it. The damn guy is invulnerable. But the bowel-disrupter (set to "anal carnage") had a wonderful effect on the big guy.




Who exactly do I need to bribe to make sure that I don't go up against Spider?


----------



## Dungannon

Looking past me, are ya Rel?

_*Dungannon summons his inner nothingland child and kicks Rel in the junk.*_


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Who exactly do I need to bribe to make sure that I don't go up against Spider?




So, Rel what do you think of Ashrem's marksmanship?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> So, Rel what do you think of Ashrem's marksmanship?




*Rel clutches his aching junk and holds onto his wallet for dear life.  As he sinks to the ground in pain, he bites off Dungannon's kneecap and spits it onto the ground.*

I think Ashrem's marksmanship is without parallel!  And I'm not being paid to say that!*


*Not yet.**

**Not in cash anyway.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

I'm just speechless.

Agog.

This last round was just...

Amazing?

I was thinking more "dissatisfying."

How can you say that?

Because our pick for the contest winner is already in the loser's bracket.

C'mon, D'Shai. It's not his fault.

Maybe you're right, but...

Look at it this way, it's not like the green goliath is really even in this contest anymore. Once he turned back into Bruce Banner it was all over for him.

Maybe he was tired after all the smashing?

Probably. In any event, dear readers, that's why we can count OaxacanWarrior among the big winners today.

Along with Dungannon, who advances due to some rather shady tactics on the part of Rel

For shame, Rel! Attempted fraternazation with one of the judges gets you a .35 cent fine (suspended), a trip to the loser's bracket, and a red card.

I think he'd have lost regardless.

Why?

He gave half if his entry to OaxacanWarrior, remember? And half an entry means half-damage!

That certainly would explain our favorite Mexican Wrestler's showing. But on with the rest of the results!

Tamlyn just barely eeked one out over Dawn today, depsite the fact that he brought his entire half-painted legion with him.

Turns out that half of the half-painted legion had the hots for Dawn's avatar's better half.

If you can say that again, I'll give you half of Rel's .35 cents.

In our last matchup, Jon Potter and Spider_Jerusalem had a knock-down drag-out of their own. But, with Spider rolling a pitiful 3 on his initiative, and Jon Potter's new Super-Improved Double-Secret Initiative feat (a feat so secret, not even Jon Potter knows about it!), Jon was able to sneak attack the Spider and put him down.

And that wraps up another exciting round. Join us tomorrow for more exciting matchups!

Current Standings!


----------



## Tamlyn

So if I don't kiss up to fett, that means I have a better chance of beating Dungannon, right?


----------



## Rel

"Meh, that's the last time I try and butter up Fett!  The one thing that I try and bribe him to keep from happening and now I'm..."


*Rel sucker-punches Spider right in the Jerusalems, just when he thought he'd caught me monologuing.*


----------



## Jon Potter

SJ's trouble is he unveiled the bowel disrupter too early on. If that doesn't inspire a guy to new heights of quicker-than-the-human-eye action, I don't know what will.

But I bought a new red leather mask for this next event. We'll see who's the favorite mexican wrestler around here!!

*Climbs up on the top rope and urges the crowd into a blood-thirsty frenzy...*


----------



## Bubbalicious

Kissing up to Fett (Ashrem) just gets you a mouthful of stinky fur!


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> "Meh, that's the last time I try and butter up Fett!  The one thing that I try and bribe him to keep from happening and now I'm..."
> 
> 
> *Rel sucker-punches Spider right in the Jerusalems, just when he thought he'd caught me monologuing.*




Hey, I did all I could.  Not my fault the judges looked poorly on bribery.


----------



## fett527

Jon Potter said:
			
		

> SJ's trouble is he unveiled the bowel disrupter too early on. If that doesn't inspire a guy to new heights of quicker-than-the-human-eye action, I don't know what will.
> 
> But I bought a new red leather mask for this next event. We'll see who's the favorite mexican wrestler around here!!
> 
> *Climbs up on the top rope and urges the crowd into a blood-thirsty frenzy...*




Jon Potter getting pumped for next round:


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> Look at it this way, it's not like the green goliath is really even in this contest anymore. Once he turned back into Bruce Banner it was all over for him.
> 
> Maybe he was tired after all the smashing?
> 
> Probably. In any event, dear readers, that's why we can count OaxacanWarrior among the big winners today.
> 
> Along with Dungannon, who advances due to some rather shady tactics on the part of Rel
> 
> For shame, Rel! Attempted fraternazation with one of the judges gets you a .35 cent fine (suspended), a trip to the loser's bracket, and a red card.
> 
> I think he'd have lost regardless.
> 
> Why?
> 
> He gave half if his entry to OaxacanWarrior, remember? And half an entry means half-damage!




Wahoo!!  Watch out Jon Potter...I'm coming after you with half of Rel's damage to boot!


----------



## Bubbalicious

In the pic, I assume Jon Potter was showing off his +4 Vorpal man-boobs of death?!?!


----------



## Dawn

Sweet! At least I'm still in it.

Dawn sits impatiently to the side awaiting her shot at what remains of Spider or Rel.  (Redheads are anything but patient).

Remember, how do you know when a redhead is done with you?  She unties you!  <Oh, wrong forum?>


----------



## Rel

Dawn said:
			
		

> Sweet! At least I'm still in it.
> 
> Dawn sits impatiently to the side awaiting her shot at what remains of Spider or Rel.  (Redheads are anything but patient).
> 
> Remember, how do you know when a redhead is done with you?  She unties you!  <Oh, wrong forum?>




I'm confused.  How is a "real man" supposed to "handle" you if he's tied up?


----------



## Tamlyn

Dawn said:
			
		

> Remember, how do you know when a redhead is done with you?  She unties you!  <Oh, wrong forum?>




Well crap! I would have taken a loss if I knew what was involved.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

You know, every time I think to myself, "Self, this can't get any better," I prove myself a liar.

That's because you are a liar. Liar.

Only on alternate Thursdays and bank holidays. But I digress. Today's whirlwind of matches just about proved too much for D'Shai and I to judge.

Luckily, tomorrow should be much easier on the eyes judging.

But we'll get to that in a minute. First, let's talk about how the dust settled on today's standings! We started things off with a slobberknocker of a match between OaxacanWarrior and Jon Potter.

Slobberknocker is right. I felt like I was at a Gallagher show.

Those two lucha libre fanatics had been chomping at the bit for that moment since they've been born, and when that moment came... well let's just say that I have no idea what some of those holds were called.

I don't _want_ to know what they're called.

Anyway in the end, Jon Potter finally understood the difficulties of typing wrestling with boxing gloves, and OaxacanWarrior advanced.

I did notice that at the end, the 'Warrior had a sudden burst of energy. if that was the last of Rel's extra half an entry, then the luchadore might have trouble in the finals.

You said it, D'Shai. In other matches, Tamlyn forfeited to Dungannon.

Wasn't that nice? I mean, sure, the judges might have been a bit late in granting Tamlyn such a point of honor, but in the end, I think it all worked out for the best.

I'm not so sure it was completely altruistic, though. Tamlyn was in the middle of tying himself up. But we appreciate the gesture anyway, Tamlyn. That's why we've saved a special "huzzah!" for you. We'll keep it right next to D'Shai's 8-track collection until you can pick it up.

But back to the action! Down in Fresno, Spider_Jerusalem was a very, very busy fellow, winning back to back against first Dungannon and then Rel.

Too bad for Rel that his dirty, underhanded, yet almost always effective tactics failed this time around. When Spider revealed that his cup imparts DR 5/-, I think I was almost as surprised as Rel.

But not nearly as surprised as when Rel found out exactly what a bowel disruptor does.

That also explains why Dungannon immediately forfeited the next match.

But the fun didn't stop there. Since there really isn't anything to do in Fresno, we decided to have another round of matchups, and here too Spider was da man.

That he was, D'Shai. SJ started off with a match against Dr. Bruce Banner. Now you know that the Spider was just itching to give back some of what he got back in the opening rounds, but luckily for the Spider, he had watched enough early 80's television to know that he wouldn't like the good doctor when he was angry.

So in a surprise move, he simply talked with the doctor a while, packed him a backpack full of peanut butter sandwiches, and cued some theme music. In the time it takes to roll the credits, Banner had been counted out of the ring, and Spider moved on.

That left only the much awaited "Curds and Whey" bout between Dawn and Spider_Jerusalem.

This one started in textbook fashion, with the Spider setting down next to Dawn and saying "Hey, baby."

It ended that way too, with Spider Jerusalem winning the match in yet another count out. And that wraps up another day of the tournament.

Good. Now we can get to the swimsuit competition.

You heard the man. Tomorrow's rounds will be determined the same way the Ms. America pageant is.

By sleeping with the judges?

And with that, we leave you with both an update (and a big one!) and the Tip of the Day:

TotD: This contest is not a way to deflect attention away from late posting story hour authors.

And they lived happily ever after...

*****

Pack fidgeted in his chair, picking at his food and trying to ignore the awkward silence. The bard stared at his plate for a while, as the pall in the air grew heavier with each quiet breath. _This hush is worse than after that fight when Worm hid my backpack for two whole days! _ The halfling glanced at his friend: the feloine’s only response to the horrible news had been to gouge the antique table. Finally, the bard broke the stillness.

"Would somebody please pass the peas?" 

Pack peeked at the rest of the table, feeling more than seeing Ander’s glare._ Well someone’s got to do it!_  "Sir Brandimere?” he started. “Icemist is sort of small, see? And our only news comes from the criers who come to Festival and they only talk about the courts and such unless you want gossip about Icemist and that comes from Gross Gretta, she's Mr. Trappers wife and she got the nickname because of this thing she does when she eats soup…”

The knight interrupted Pack mid-ramble. "I take it, Master Tosscobble, that you would like more details about the incident." 

"Yes!" Ashrem hissed before Pack had a chance to respond. The feloine still stared straight down at the table, but Pack noticed that his claws were no longer extended._ I hope Sir Brandimere can find some southern oak to get this Indressieu table fixed properly. At least it’s Ashrem and not Worm doing the damage._

The knight looked thoughtfully at the feloine for a moment. "Let me first refill your goblets. I have always found good wine to be a poultice for ill news." Sir Brandimere gestured, and several servants entered and began offering various wines to the ensemble. Pack allowed his own small glass to be filled, but frowned when his brother yanked the whole bottle from the attendant’s hands, wobbling slightly in his chair as he poured. After his own goblet had been refilled, the knight continued. 

"I suppose I should start with the Demon Wars, as our esteemed Brother is the only one of you that looks old enough to truly remember those evil days. As you have no doubt been told, the war was very costly for to all the kingdoms involved. The demons’ army was simple massive, and it was only by combining forces that Tor, Ion, Valencia, Arboria, and the Free Cities still stand; however, even the collected might of the heartlands would have fallen to the otherworldly host if it had not been for the Feloines.” 

“Why?” asked Pack.

“A good question, Master Tosscobble,” said Sir Brandimere. The knight seemed to be warming to the story as he continued, as if it had been rehearsed. “Make no mistake, the Feloines are few in number, but when they fight they fight to win. So, when they committed to the war they held nothing back. I was there when we first saw the ships, their decks full of soldiers, and it would not surprise me to learn that they had sent every able body in the whole of the Mist Isles.” The knight gave an appraising look at Ashrem, but the scout did not meet his gaze. _What is he hoping to see, I wonder?_

“The Feloine army was enough to break the enemy’s lines. Rumors ran on the battlefield that while the demons laughed at the forces of men, the fled in the face of the armies of the Mist Isles. And after the last great battle, the Feloines took upon themselves the task of rooting out the remnants of the demons’ splintered army. They really were the heroes in those last days, which made it all the more sad when the Vampyres attacked from the Rift Isles.”

"Vampyres?" Pack gasped. The bard felt a chill shoot up his spine at the mention of the name. He had heard myths of the creatures of the Rift Isles, a place where even the bravest feared to tread. “You mean they’re real?”

"Vampires?" Worm sloshed "Why is there an island of vampires?" 

"Not vampires, Vampyres!" Ashrem growled. Pack again heard the scrape of claws on wood. 

"I have to side with Worm on this," Ander said quietly. "I've never even heard of Vampyres or the Rift Isles."

"That is exactly as they wish," Sir Brandimere answered. "The Rift Isles are small set of islands about the same size as the Feloine's Mist Isles, but located a bit south and east in the great sea. Many a sailor has mistaken the Rift Isle’s craggy rocks for those of its northern neighbor, which is just what the Vampyres want."

"Why?" said Ander.

"Master Tosscobble?" the knight said with a slight smirk.

“They’re cannibals!” Pack peeped.

"What kind of evil…" Theo rumbled, “What are they, savages?”

"They are as civilized as you or I, Brother," said the knight. "However, their ruling class believes that they are descendants of the first vampire, Count Veronous the Vicious. As such they have rather… unusual culinary habits."

"Barbaric!" the cleric thundered. Pack bobbed his head in agreement.

"Why has no one put a stop to this?" asked Ander. The woodsman’s voice was even, but Pack could see his face had grown pale a drawn, as if he were ready to gag.

"Oh, there have been attempts. Yet assaulting an island is not as easy as it seems, more so when the fighting men arrive on the battlefield with a deathly fear of the enemy. Master Tosscobble, do you know the story of Hektor’s Folly?”

“But, that’s an old wives’…” Pack’s voice faltered. “That’s true too, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so, my talented little friend,” said the knight. His voice was not unkind. “Would you like to…” Pack shook his head. “Very well. Many years ago, in what is now Pirate’s Cove, there was a great sea captain named Hektor. Some claimed he was the greatest pirate to ever live, while some thought him a sort of hero. But all agreed that his skill at sea was nothing short of magical.”

Pack nodded. Sir Brandimere was a gifted storyteller, even if he had skipped all of the pirate king’s earlier adventures.

“But, right about that time, the Prince of Ion, the Emperor’s first born son, had taken sail in a ship bound for the Mist Isles. That ship never made it to harbor: its crew was taken by vampyres, and the Prince was the guest of honor at a grand dinner that he did not survive. When news of the tragedy reached the Emperor’s ears, he swore revenge and built a great fleet of one hundred ships. All he then needed was someone to captain the fleet.”

“So he called on this Hektor?” asked Ander.

“He did. And Hektor, in a fit of pride, boasted that he would pluck the hair from the head of the vampyre’s king and weave a great sash of it for the Emperor.” The knight paused for a minute, as if enjoying the tale.

“Yet out of the thousand men that set sail that day, only a handful lived to tell the tale. The Feloines picked the survivors out of the sea, clinging to bits of wood and raving about the mist, and fog, and evil in the shadows. And when the Feloines found the remains of the fleet, they found the ships unharmed, yet completely empty, save for a long sash of human hair with Hektor’s bloodless head dangling from it.”

The story hung in the air for a moment, and Pack felt the chill in his back again. Then Worm broke the silence with a roar. "Bah!" he bellowed. "Men don't jusht dishappear!" 

"I didn’t think so either, Worm,” said Pack. “Until today.”

"I think we are off the topic," Ander said. 

Sir Brandimere smiled, “You are, of course, correct. Allow me to continue.” The knight raised his hand again and gave a little wave, and servants appeared to refill empty cups. Pack watched as both Ander and Theo shooed the attendant away and he followed suit, but Worm grabbed another full bottle, not even bothering to fill his cup before drinking straight from the jug’s mouth. “Now to be fair, I am not entirely sure that Hektor’s tale is completely true, but whatever its veracity it was – is – effective. Fear can be a powerful shield.”
The knight took a sip from his goblet. “As can discretion. In all the histories that I know, there has never been a concerted Vampyre attack on the mainland. Truthfully, I believe their safety, as much as it is bolstered by myth, is more due to the fact that they seldom stray from their island kingdom.”

“Except?” Theo rumbled.

“Very perceptive, Brother! Except to wage war on the Mist Isles. According to my research, Feloine and Vampyre have waged a private war for as long as histories have been recorded, neither able to gain advantage over the other."

“Only because King Jerlemaine refuses to risk the lives of his people and mount the expedition to wipe their evil from Gea’s surface!” Ashrem hissed. Pack could almost feel the anger in his voice, though the scout’s tone was even more measured than it usually was. “The Vampyres are no threat to the mainland because we choose to stand guard!”

“Perhaps,” said the knight as he leaned back into his seat. “But is it possible there is something more to it? A secret, perhaps? The Feloines have had a Jerlemaine, the Lion of the Isles, on the throne for a thousand years. When one passes, another is born. But what if this was not the case? What if there were simply a single King…”

Sir Brandimere stopped as a deep throated growl filled the room. Pack glanced at the source of the sound to see Ashrem’s narrowed eyes. The scout looked ready to leap over the table.

“Oh well,” said the knight, “It is just a theory, and not a very well thought out one at that. But again I digress.” Sir Brandimere leaned back toward the table and spread his fingers across the smooth wood. “Approximately two summers after the end of the demon wars, the Vampyres attacked the Feloines. Word went out immediately that King Jerlemaine called his people home.”

"What about Tor? Surely they would send reinforcements." asked Theo.

"Sadly, help was neither requested nor sent. Though many were willing to go, despite the fact that the rebuilding had not yet been finished." 

"So what happened?" squeaked Pack, in the same voice he used on his birthday right before opening his presents.

"They left. Warriors, merchants, politicians; all of them. Even the women and children."

"And then?" Pack almost slipped off his seat as he edged forward, gripping the table edge as if he had Ashrem's claws. 

Sir Brandimere smiled slightly as he glanced at the halfling. "Merchant sailors headed for the Mist Isles say that a sudden fog rose up, covering the coastline and that the sounds of battle could be heard for leagues. Then through the fog they saw a flash of blinding light and heard a crack of thunder so loud it cracked a mast. The water swirled and crashed as if there were a storm. And then… nothing.”

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. It is as if both the Rift and Mist Isles vanished and never were." 

The awkward silence settled back over the dinning room like a too heavy quilt. Pack looked at his companions. Theo had settled back into his seat, his eyes closed and a hand to his forehead. Ander stared at his goblet, slowly spinning it back and forth between his fingers. Worm seemed content to drink the dregs of yet another bottle of wine. Finally, Pack braved a glance at Ashrem. The scout’s face was a mask, but  his stone dead eyes told Pack that his friend needed a break from bad news.

“Um...” Pack started, wondering how best to change the subject. “Sir Brandimere? We came here tonight to ask about some of the items you acquired in Highmaster Schok’s estate. We are the actual owners of some of those items. We had them on loan to Master Schok while he did some research work for us. There was, let’s see, a few scrolls and books, one glove – I know its strange to only have one glove but you should hear the story about how we got it! It was after the attack in the village square…”

“Master Tosscobble, I am already aware of the items of which you speak. A list was given when this meeting was requested, and I have already perused it.” The knight swished his near empty goblet for a moment, letting his gaze linger over Ashrem. Then he set down the cup and stood.

“I fear I have failed as a host this evening,” he said, “and that my earlier news has dampened the spirit of this room. Let us retire to the library so that we may discuss these objects and conclude our business.” He clapped twice, and an old yet still stout servant appeared. Without shifting his eyes from Ashrem, he commanded the aging attendant, “Show our guests back to the eastern library, Victor. And bring up a bottle of Ironwrought from the racks.”

“Which cask, sir?”

“The Mithral.” The servant raised an eyebrow at the words and gave a disapproving glance at the companions. Sir Brandimere must have noticed the stillness of his man, for he continued. “I have offered our guests news of an unsettling sort, and I think it fitting that the best of my spirits should raise theirs.” Pack caught the glimpse of a twinkle in the knight’s eye. “Please follow Victor. I will retrieve the items in question and meet you in the room presently.” With that, he exited the room.


*	*	*


Pack soon found himself back in the library, sitting heavily on the couch he had bounced on only a few hours earlier. His friends had likewise taken up their previous positions. Except for their mood, and the winded look on Theo’s and Ander’s faces from carrying Worm from the dining hall to the library, Pack couldn’t help but think it was if they had never left.

Victor had left them as soon as they arrived, returning with a small cask under his arm after what seemed to Pack like a silent eternity. Then the old servant had offered them each a tiny crystal cup filled with the casks black liqueur. When Pack sniffed it, he thought the inside of his nose had caught fire – the drink smelled of flame and stone and things precious. 

“I hadn’t thought to ever taste this again,” said Ander quietly.

“What is it?” asked Pack.

“Ironwrought,” he answered. “The finest drink ever made in Daltower. Maybe the best by dwarves period. They make it in kegs made of precious metals deep in the heat of their forges. No one knows what they make it from, but its fit for the Emperor’s table. Just not in large amounts. It’s meant to be sipped, not…”

“It’sh good!” Worm said, upending the cask directly into his mouth.

“… meant to be guzzled.” The woodsman gave Pack a conspiratorial smile, “It’s potent too. Your brother will probably not be very happy in the morning.”

Pack gave a grin and started to respond only to be interrupted by Sir Brandimere striding through the doors without pomp, a single servant laden with a covered platter in tow. “I see you are enjoying the Ironwrought. Good. Now to business.” The knight spoke without the warmth he had exhibited during dinner. _Something’s not right._

“I will make this as straightforward and short as I can,” he started. “After purchasing Highmaster Schok’s estate, I took the time to read some of his works. While much of his magical text was beyond me, his personal journals were not. As such, I had a very good idea of who, and what, you were before you set foot in my house.”

Pack saw Ander shift in his seat. The bard felt the ranger’s discomfort.

“However, I find myself in a quandary. The Highmaster’s murder was one of many, but it was also the first. And as the first, suspicion naturally fell on Highmaster Schok’s apprentice. It has been known to happen, you know; apprentices have been seeking advancement through the death of their masters since the master-student relationship began.”

Pack heard Ander grumble almost inaudibly at the suggestion. Sir Brandimere must have heard it too, because he turned toward the warrior and continued. “But in the end, the young woman was cleared of the charges against her, as more of the council fell to this murderer. Which brings us to my quandary.” The knight paused as he regarded the woodsman. “Why should I believe you are who you claim to be?”

“You’ll just have to, Sir,” said Ander. The way he said it made the title sound like an insult.

“So I should just believe that this is all a coincidence? That the men who arrive at my doorstep asking not for the goods of the master, but those of the apprentice, have no ulterior motive? Men who do not fit the description of those they claim to be? One of which bears striking similarity to the description of the real murderer, still at large.”

“That’s…”

“Ridiculous? Come now, you did not expect that a few days growth would hide your identity, did you?”

“I did not kill those mages!”

“So you say, but would you be willing to prove it?”

“Yes!” Pack watched helplessly as Ander shot out of his chair to face the knight. _Please don’t do anything foolish ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!_

Instead of meeting his challenger head on, the knight smiled. “I thought as much. That is why I have already arranged for a simple test.” 

Sir Brandimere gestured upward toward the ceiling and Pack followed the movement. When his gaze reached the landings, he nearly fell over. On each landing stood a dozen soldiers in tight formation, each holding a crossbow trained on the companions. “Please, my friends,” said the knight, “do not be alarmed. These men are simply here for all of our protection. To keep the peace, as it were.”

“This is your test?” thundered Theo.

“Not at all,” replied the knight with a clap of his hands. Pack saw one of the crossbowmen fall back to be replaced by a man in simple white robes holding a long staff topped with a ball of smoky blue crystal. “This is.”

“A man wif a scht… hic… schtick?” slurred Worm.

“Not entirely,” chuckled Sir Brandimere. “The man you see on the landing is one of the laypriests of one of the local temples in Tor: a temple to which I am quite generous. And so, when the occasion arises, they are somewhat amenable to my requests for assistance. In this case, I have asked for a method to suss out truths.”

“You plan on invoking a zone?” said Theo. Pack thought he heard a note of distaste in the priest’s voice.

“Nothing quite so grand, I assure you. Instead, well perhaps I should demonstrate.” The knight craned his neck and called up to the laypriest, “You may begin now!” In answer, the man held the staff over the room, suspending its tip directly over the companions. Then Sir Brandimere called out in an authoritative voice.

“I am a very poor man!” 

Pack watched as the globe of crystal darkened, turning purple and then red. “It’s a crystal ball!” the bard shouted involuntarily.

“Not quite,” said the knight, “though close enough for our purposes. Now on to the test. If you pass this test, I will be satisfied with your identities and your innocence of these crimes, and you will have what you came for. If not, then you will either return empty handed to whence you came, or be subject to a worse fate.”

“Explain,” commanded Ander.

“My dear boy, you will simply answer two questions. Who are you, and are you a murderer?”

“That’s it?” said Pack. “Well that’s easy! I’m Roscoe P Tosscobble, but my friends call me Pack, and I am definitely not a murderer.”

“You see?” said Sir Brandimere, pointing to the globe shining blue. “Was that so difficult? Who will be next?”

“Th’ only name that mattersh to me ish Wyrm!” said Worm. “And th’ firsht time I killed someone in Tor was jusht yeshterday.” Pack glanced up at the globe, aside from a slight flicker when Worm started speaking it glowed blue. _That doesn’t make sense,_ he thought. Worm’s just his nickname…

Pack continued staring at the globe as Theo thundered, “I am Theobald Hillshire, and I am no murderer.” The old priest’s voice seemed to shake the walls. Pack thought he saw the globe glow even more clearly than before.

Ashrem’s voice cut cleanly through the air, “Among men I am called Ashrem, and now that my people are gone that is all I am. And while I have been party to many deaths, I am not the murderer you seek.”

This answer seemed to perturb Sir Brandimere, but the knight turned to Ander. “That leaves you, my untrusting friend.”

Ander paused for a moment. “I am Ander Tobin, and…” Pack gasped as the ball turned crimson. He jerked his head towards the woodsman to see a tear run down his olive cheek.

“I am Andru Pindanon, and I am a murderer.”

Pack slowly looked up toward the globe, only to be nearly blinded by its azure glow.


----------



## Tamlyn

Wow! That update was well-worth me losing.


----------



## Rel

First of all, stunningly great update.  I'm becoming afraid that my superlatives for this story hour are growing dull and common from overuse but this last update was the shizznit, so to speak.

As to the contest, while losing is seldom fun (unless one is wrestled to defeat in the sweaty, virtual grasp of the lovely Dawn - a fate that I unfortunately avoided), I'm just as happy for someone else to win this one.  As I stated from the outset, part of the prize was something that I already had.  And to be perfectly honest, I was a bit afraid that I would win again.  The first time was good fortune and the second coincidence.  A third consecutive win of the contests in this Story Hour was undoubtedly going to start smelling suspiciously like a conspiricy.

So no that I'm out of it, I throw my support solidly behind Dawn and hope to read more about her exploits (in GRAPHIC detail) on her march to victory.


----------



## dshai527

I think Dawn is already out Rel....but hopefully your support won't go unnoticed by our lovely lady reader. 

And who said the brackets were meant to determine a winner anyway?


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I think Dawn is already out Rel....but hopefully your support won't go unnoticed by our lovely lady reader.




Oh, crap you're right.  Um well, GO DAWN anyway!   

I'm still trying to figure out what happens if Spider wins both of his current matches and has to go up against himself.   



> And who said the brackets were meant to determine a winner anyway?




Ah HA!  So I've still got a shot at pulling off the hat trick, eh?  I'll believe it when I see it.


----------



## Dawn

Yes!  Swimsuit competition!  Now I should be able to take on Spider.  Rematch!

<While in swimsuit form, Dawn has a hidden feat from the Nymphs - Endless Beauty. Actually, when my 7 year old encounted a nymph and she used Endless Beauty to stun his character, he called it "endless booty" for days.  Guess that description works too.>


----------



## Enkhidu

Dawn said:
			
		

> ...Actually, when my 7 year old encounted a nymph and she used Endless Beauty to stun his character, he called it "endless booty" for days...




Your 7 year old is Sir Mix-a-lot?


----------



## dshai527

I think he meant it in Pirate terms...Enk

Arrr Booty


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Arrr Booty




I say this to my wife a lot.  Usually followed by playful smack on the "Arrr...se".

Why she tolerates me, I do not know.  It's gotta be my "Mad Skillz".


----------



## dshai527

At least you don't refer to it as buried treasure when she's under the covers and attempt to lead an expedition to recover it. Not that I do that to my wife...no not me.


----------



## Rel

*Rel leaves the thread for the day, making absolutely no mention of "*Mounting* an expedition to the *South Pole*" whatsoever.*


----------



## Tamlyn

Dawn said:
			
		

> <While in swimsuit form, Dawn has a hidden feat from the Nymphs - Endless Beauty. Actually, when my 7 year old encounted a nymph and she used Endless Beauty to stun his character, he called it "endless booty" for days.  Guess that description works too.>




Just to clarify, Dawn. I'd rather see "Endless Beauty" than an "Endless Booty". Just my preference.


----------



## Enkhidu

By the way, I'm glad you guys are having fun with this latest contest (it's 3X as successful as anything we've done previously, and that's not saying much!). But while we wait for the next round to be completed, I thought I'd take a minute to say some stuff.

I told you at the beginning of this thread that you were going to get a chance to see D'Shai do his DMing thang, and you're now beginning to see what he can do (and to what length he will go to draw on PC background to really screw with me and fett drive the game's plotline). And let me tell you, it does get worse for the PCs before it gets better (assuming that it actually _does_ get better, which even 18 months after these events has still not happened). I hope that you are enjoying what I think qualifies as RBDMing.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

I am on a roll in this contest!  I now have my sights set on Spider J.  You're going down!  Bring all you've got 'cause you're gonna need it...and it still won't be enough.  I will win it all!

[end of wrestling rant]


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Well this weekend’s swimsuit competition was… informative. 

You can say that again, the doctor’s say it will be weeks before I can see again.

And my dain brammage might be permanent.

Well at least you won’t be any different.

Heck, I don’t even remember where we left off in the brackets.

Well don’t look at me, I never even paid attention.

Why does that not surprise me? I guess that means we have to come up with some other way to do this…

Haiku.

Gesundheit.

That's HAI-ku, not AH-choo. I think it could work.

You’re serious, aren’t you?

_The contest rules said
A winner will be chosen
However we want

Worm is a strong oaf
Ashrem and Ander strike fast
Theo heals their wounds

Pack was left right out
As was Aurora's magic 
That was a mistake

Enk writes a Story
D'shai makes it better yet
Fett keeps it correct_

How can I argue with that? OK we’re going to scrap this stupid… who’s idea was this tournament, anyway?

Yours.

…this brilliant-but-doomed-by-gamer-flesh tourney and have a Haiku Runoff, winner take all.

Sound’s like a plan. So enter early, and enter often. Each haiku gets an entry in the raffle hat – or more likely plushie die - no limit on the number of times you can enter, or how bad the haiku can be.

And remember, and this is important, anyone can enter, even if you lost in the first round or never made it into the brackets in the first place. So act now, and as an added bonus, we will be selecting two more entries for additional prizes – 1. guest spot in an upcoming  post, and 2. the opportunity to write the Foreward for the annotated Small Beginnings (and if you write the foreward, that means you get a free copy!)

But that’s not all…

Er, actually that is all, D’Shai.

Er... look a seagull!

_Enk, you didn't say
Syllables five seven five
Form a sweet haiku_


----------



## Dawn

Rel, dshai – I do like the way you think.

So, what’s up with the swimsuit competition?? You know these things have a tendency to bind.  And the heels aren’t that comfortable.  <Starts looking for a place to sit down and relax.>


----------



## dshai527

Dawn said:
			
		

> Rel, dshai – I do like the way you think.
> 
> So, what’s up with the swimsuit competition?? You know these things have a tendency to bind.  And the heels aren’t that comfortable.  <Starts looking for a place to sit down and relax.>




I have been informed that we are trying to run a family friendly Storyhour and I am not allowed to respond to this request for a place to sit. I am therefore hoping that Rel will do the honors for me...in Haiku and he gets an entry into the contest


----------



## Rel

_Dawn in a swimsuit
Can sit that booty right here
On Rel's lap.  Boo ya._


----------



## Dungannon

_Inspired haiku
Pack is my favorite bard
More tales from him please_


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Win bracket cannot
So write this haiku I must
To win great prizes

I think I like Rel's better, but here is my initial entry.


----------



## Tamlyn

Work sucks so I write
Enk and D'Shai are funny
Man I hope I win


----------



## Tamlyn

There once was a man
From Nantucket I've been told
Can't quite make this fit


----------



## Tamlyn

Dawn said:
			
		

> So, what’s up with the swimsuit competition?? You know these things have a tendency to bind.  And the heels aren’t that comfortable.  <Starts looking for a place to sit down and relax.>




Beautiful lass, Dawn
She makes nymphs look like green hags
Swimsuit and heels, Wow!


----------



## Enkhidu

So we've got 6 entries so far - that's a 6 sided die, with Tamlyn calling "odds". Luckily, there's still plenty of time to get your haikus in for your entry(ies).


----------



## fett527

Win contest I can't
I am ineligible
More words about Dawn?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> More words about Dawn?




I'll let someone else do the honors there.  Dawn has certainly built up a mysterious and sexy cache here at ENWorld and I don't mind poking fun at it.  But I also hope that someday she'll make the trip down to one of the NC Game Days.  So I'm going to avoid being any more stalkerish and creepy than I need to in order to get a cheap laugh and win kewl prizes.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Went to Las Vegas
Stayed in a suite at Caesars
It was very nice


----------



## Jon Potter

Not been to Vegas;
I don't much care for the heat.
Why live in Raleigh?


Well what can I say?
In the end it came to this:
I liked the cold less.


No jokes about Dawn.
Does that make me less a man?
No. Poetry does.


But I must enter.
How can I write an haiku
When I hate them so?


I must find a way.
For the sake of a mini.
There is my answer!


----------



## Dungannon

I haven't any
half painted miniatures
help me out here, please.


----------



## Dawn

Time to add my entry:

So much attention
Towards the redhead is cool
But is expected.	

However there is
A secret held by her which
Would upset many people.

<Vain isn't she?>


----------



## Rel

Dawn said:
			
		

> However there is
> A secret held by her which
> Would upset many people.




"She's a MAN, baby!"


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> "She's a MAN, baby!"





Or a Carny.


----------



## Tamlyn

Dawn said:
			
		

> However there is
> A secret held by her which
> Would upset many people.
> 
> <Vain isn't she?>




We already know
You have a seven year old
What else could there be?


----------



## Dungannon

_Methinks the lady is
Hiding something important
She's not a true red_


----------



## Dawn

Gee.  So much attention for the redhead! Just how they like it!

No, Dungannon, she’s real a redhead – carpet, drapes, the real deal. 

Congrats to Rel (course you already knew – didn’t you?).    

Okay, let me clear the air a bit here.  Dawn is my online persona and used in a number of different settings (online and table) for my gaming.  While she was modeled after my wife, both in physical appearance and personality….Yes, after my wife……. She is, alas, only a character.  I’ve always been a red-o-phile so I love playing Dawn.  Just one of the reasons I like the story hour – Aurora is my kind of heroine.  

I borrowed the picture from Joseph Linsner who ultimately created the character Dawn for his comic series (and I give him full credit for the drawings).  

Rel, I promise to bring my wife to one of the NC Game Days so you won’t be disappointed.  I’m just a simple computer geek by day, transforming into Dawn at the game table.  But at least she is something to look at.  She actually plays a Nymph druid in our home game with my boys (hence the statement earlier from my youngest son regarding the “endless booty”.   When their characters first met, she stunned his barbarian with Endless Beauty.).


----------



## Rel

Dawn said:
			
		

> Rel, I promise to bring my wife to one of the NC Game Days so you won’t be disappointed.  I’m just a simple computer geek by day, transforming into Dawn at the game table.  But at least she is something to look at.




Cool.  She can still sit in my lap of course.  As for you, it depends on how big you are.


----------



## Tamlyn

Dawn, I should have known
Never crushed on men before
Boy, I feel dirty


----------



## Dawn

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Dawn, I should have known
> Never crushed on men before
> Boy, I feel dirty




No deceit was meant.
Dawn has a life of her own.
Much like all redheads.


----------



## Enkhidu

Hidey ho, neighbors!

Just wanted to give you the heads up that the bad-haiku-raffle is wrapping up on Friday at 5:27 PM. We'll be selecting a winner that night.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Hidey ho, neighbors!
> 
> Just wanted to give you the heads up that the bad-haiku-raffle is wrapping up on Friday at 5:27 PM. We'll be selecting a winner that night.




The end is nearing
I hope that I'll be winning
With this dumb haiku


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Dawn said:
			
		

> Gee.  So much attention for the redhead! Just how they like it!
> 
> No, Dungannon, she’s real a redhead – carpet, drapes, the real deal.
> 
> Congrats to Rel (course you already knew – didn’t you?).
> 
> Okay, let me clear the air a bit here.  Dawn is my online persona and used in a number of different settings (online and table) for my gaming.  While she was modeled after my wife, both in physical appearance and personality….Yes, after my wife……. She is, alas, only a character.  I’ve always been a red-o-phile so I love playing Dawn.  Just one of the reasons I like the story hour – Aurora is my kind of heroine.




Dawn dropped a big bomb
She is a he afterall
Now we feel funny


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Do not want to wait
For another great update
On the Icemist group


----------



## Dawn

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Hidey ho, neighbors!
> 
> Just wanted to give you the heads up that the bad-haiku-raffle is wrapping up on Friday at 5:27 PM. We'll be selecting a winner that night.




Hidey ho!  What is the outcome of the raffle?


----------



## dshai527

Ummm...

Yeah Enk! What's the holdup? Why don't we have a winner yet?

Man I tell you sometimes I don't know why I support this storyhour.....

Can't get anything done on time. Slacker!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Dawn said:
			
		

> Hidey ho!  What is the outcome of the raffle?




Er… about that… see, D’Shai and I have been in a bit of a pickle.

Mmmm. Pickles.

See, we tried a bunch of different ways to select a winner for this contest. First there was the old saw “drawing names out of a hat.” That didn’t exactly end well.

I thought it was pretty good, actually.

That’s because you weren’t the one being chased around by an origami katana and getting paper cuts as defensive wounds.

Hey, when you’re re-enacting Shogun, someone had to be the samurai, someone has to be Anjin-san, and someone has to be the extra that gets cut in half near the beginning.

Well at least you didn’t decide to try and re-enact scene where the samurai marks his territory…

Ewww!

Anyway, after that debacle, we toyed with the idea of a no holds barred free-for-all.

Then we found out that those aren’t really free. Especially if you are looking for international coverage for the pay-per-view.

So we discarded that one and tried the Rubber Duck Regatta.

That one was my idea!

But, after the third time D’Shai boarded, plundered, and sank one of the entries using his piratical waterfowl, we decided to cut our losses and skip that one too.

Don’t blame me, with all that yellow gold I thought it was the Treasure Fleet.

So in the end we had to resort to old reliable, and whipped ‘em out.

The dice, you sickos.

And in a quick d20 roll-off, the winner was… a tie.

Yep. Two entries rolled ye olde naturale 20e.

So we had no choice but to have a second roll-off as a tie breaker.

But since there were only two entries tied for the win…

And because you were bored.

… we decided to engage in a game of Dice-Combat (ask us about it sometime – its great for wasting time while waiting for people to grab their seats at the gaming table).

And when the dice finally clattered their last, the winner was: 



			
				OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Win bracket cannot
> So write this haiku I must
> To win great prizes




So congratulations, Oax, you’ve just won!

That’s right, you - yes you! – get all expense paid trip to Icemist a dogeared copy of the Sunless Citadel, a half-painted mini, a guest spot in an upcoming post, and the right to write the foreword to the Annotated Small Beginnings (and get a printed copy of it, too!). And what the heck, maybe we’ll throw in some chocolate twizzlers or something.

Unless we break them open for game night first. Or maybe we’ll just send you the leftovers.

So Oax, send us an email at my username @gmail.com so we can discuss the foreword. We’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.

And, in case you forgot we were actually writing, here’s a short post to keep you tided over until we get with the action!

Don’t forget the TotD!

TotD: Sorry, Dungannon but Enk's dice were En Fuego


*****

“Did you have to hit him so hard?” asked the halfling in very visible dismay.

Grogger sat on the floor and gently patted the bard on his head. It was amazing to the half-ogre exactly how small Pack was. “You’re brother will be fine, little one. My muling him like that probably saved him from any real hurt.”

“I am so sorry about that, Grogger,” said Pack, “I know that Worm gets a little rowdy when he’s drunk, but I never expected…”

“It was the digger’s brew that did it to him. He should know better than to mix dwarf drink with orc blood. It’s like fire in the veins!”

“It is?” gasped the halfling, clambering up next to his brother on the makeshift bed. The littler brother reached out a tiny hand and felt the half-orc’s head. It rolled as he pressed down, lolling senselessly to one side as the orc-blooded drunk snored. “He doesn’t feel hot…”

“Ha!” Grogger guffawed, “not that kind of fire! Though you might as well swallow coal from the taste it leaves. No, that rotgut boils awake the old bloodlust, from back in the days of myth when dwarves drove orcs and ogres from their mountain homes.”

“It makes you violent?”

“No, _more_ violent! You and your friends are lucky that Worm was already in a stupor before he downed that swill, otherwise… Well let’s just say it was for the better.” Grogger watched as the halfling hopped to the floor, seemingly satisfied that his brother would live. Then he glanced over toward the sleeping drunk and, noticing that the half-orc still snored through his flat nose, pried open his mouth with a sausage like finger. Worm’s snores grew louder almost immediately. _Well, the others won’t get much sleep tonight, but now you won’t drown in your own bile._ Grogger watched the half-orc for a while, scratching his chin. _Son, you need to take it easy; this city hits harder than I do if you don’t watch yourself._

Grogger stood for a while, watching the even breathing of his patient, when he suddenly realized that, save for the drunk half-orc’s snore, the room had gone silent. He glanced over his shoulder to see the halfling sitting on a stack of musty tomes, absently fingering a black glove. For a moment, the half-ogre considered leaving the little bard to his thoughts. _Poor fellow looks like someone ate his dog…_

“Why the long face?” asked Grogger involuntarily. He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth: if given the chance, the bard would talk all night, depriving Grogger of his much deserved sleep. Again.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

_Whew! Looks like I get to rest after all!_ “Well, suit your…”

“It’s just… It’s Ander.”

_Well there goes sleep._ “Which one of the two humans in the other room is Ander again? The Ionian or the Torian?”

“The younger one.”

“Oh, that one. Bright enough lad I guess, if a bit broody at times. What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s a liar.” The halfling said it as if it were the worst insult he could imagine.

“A liar, you say?” Grogger smacked a huge fist into a huge palm and cracked his knuckles. He made as if to rise, “Well we’ll just show him what we do to liars in Tor!” The half-ogre grinned at his own joke. 

“And a murderer,” added Pack quietly, looking up to stare at the half-ogre.

Grogger stopped and settled back onto his haunches. “Well now that’s a harsh charge,” he said, letting the words hang for a moment, “though in my experience I’ve seen that most murderers are also liars.”

The bard let his eyes drop back down to the glove. “It’s not funny,” he said. “I… we trusted him.”

“Look, I’ve never been very good at making people laugh and don’t much care for long drawn-out conversations, so let’s just make this simple. Tell me why.”

“What?”

“Tell me why you trust him.”

“I…” Pack started, seemingly unable to recall. “We…”

“Let me tell you a story,” the half-ogre interrupted. “When I was in the war, I found myself paired with a young Freeman from Oscourt. One of those serious, silent types like your friend. He didn’t talk much, but his blade was quicker than a vicar checking the offering box after service. For two years we fought back to back in some of the worst places I’ve even heard of, against the worst nightmares hell ever spawned. And in all that time, I never learned his name.” 

Grogger sighed. “He died on a spear tip that should have punched out my heart. Threw himself on it when we were ambushed by two score demons.” Then the half-ogre paused, letting the memory settle. “After the war, I tracked down this man’s identity, and visited Oscourt to pay my respects. There I found out that my friend was a convicted murderer given the option to serve out his death sentence in the army.”

The halflng seemed ready to say something, but no words came out of the bard’s mouth. Grogger continued, “When I got to Oscourt, I realized that he was still the man I trusted with my life. His crimes, not knowing who he really was: none of that mattered, because in the end he was still the friend who saved my neck. And that was all that really mattered.

“But it’s not the same!” Pack protested.

“Why not?” asked Grogger, knowing what the bard would eventually say.

Not surprisingly, the half-ogre did not immediately get his answer.


*	*	*

Theo sat on the edge of the large chair, his hand on the young Ionian kneeling before him. “It’s not my place to do what you ask, lad. The Lord of Storms does not concern himself with forgiveness.”

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

“Ande…” The priest stopped himself when he saw the woodsman flinch at the name. “Andru,” he continued, “None of us deserve forgiveness.” If the Ionian had flinched at his first named, he reacted as if Theo had slapped him with the second. “Saints, sinners; no one. But that doesn’t stop us from getting it, and giving it, anyway.” The young man let his head drop and stared at the ground.

Theo sighed heavily and waited for a moment before continuing. “Lad, I want you to do something now. Something that won’t be pleasant, but that you seem to need. I want to tell me everything, from the beginning.”

The woodsman didn’t raise his head. “No.”

_Not this time, boy._ “Andru Pindanon,” said the priest quietly as he watched the young man flinch again, “I am not asking you, I am telling you as Brother Theobald, Stormcloud. If you wish to be cleansed of your sins, then speak them, so that the power of Zuras wash them, or if need be burn them, away!” The older man let the power build within him, until the young man’s shoulder twitched under the cleric’s glowing grasp. It wasn’t until the glow faded that Theo realized the twitches weren’t from discomfort, but from the woodsman’s silent sobs.

He kneeled, facing the younger man, and gathered him up as if he was cradling his own child. “You’ve carried the eagle on your back by yourself for long enough, lad. It’s time to set it free.”

*	*	*

“By the time I got to him he was too far gone, and he knew it,” said the woodsman. His voice was still shaky, but he was not nearly the wreck he had been when he started the tale. “So I laid his head in my lap and we talked a while. Said he wanted to just listen to a friendly voice, so I just talked. I told him… I told him what I’d done. He was dead before the end of it.” The woodsman’s hands quivered as if he had palsy, and he rubbed them together.

“I buried him there, at the crossroads, and took his papers. His name.” Theo watched as the Ionian pulled a tiny locket from beneath his tunic. “And I took this. I don’t really know what it means, or even who it is in there. But it seemed right that Ander Tobin have something close to his heart.” The ranger opened the clasp gently, revealing a tiny painting of a woman. He let the locket rest in the older man’s hand for a moment, and then gently closed it and put it away. 

“And then you came to Icemist?” asked the priest?

“Yes.”

Theo gave a rumbling sigh. “That’s a tale, lad.” _And one that makes things as clear as the sky on Storm’s Rest._ “I don’t really know what to say to it.”

“I should go.”

“Nonsense! You killed a man, this Autycus ben-Usha, because he was beating some girl to death. It doesn’t matter if he had the right to do it because he somehow owned her. It was wrong.” The older man paused. “But two wrongs don’t make right. There’s no other way about it, you killed a man and ran. And that’s shameful, lad.”

“But Lictor ben-Usha uses truth magic, Theo! If I hadn’t run, if my father had tried to protect me instead of being able to truthfully not know where I am, then his uncle would have…”

“And what do you think your father would have done if someone had killed you in a dark alley?”

“You don’t know that family, Theo, they’re…”

“Ruthless? Doesn’t matter, lad. When you do something, you take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

Ander let his forehead sink into his hand. “It’s not that easy…”

_Enough of this!_ “Start acting like a man!” Theo thundered. The woodsman eyes widened, and the cleric felt the sparks of the gift involuntarily growing within him. He continued, tightly controlling both his voice and the power, “Listen to me carefully, because I’m only going to say this once. The only thing that feeling sorry for yourself right now is going to do is make it harder for us to find Aurora. It might even get her, or one of us, killed, and I won’t stand for it. What you did was wrong, lad, you killed a man and didn’t even find out if there would be punishment to take before you ran from it. And one day, if need be, I’ll go with you when you go face up to what you’ve done.” Theo held the woodsman’s gaze for a few moments.

“But that day isn’t today. Today you’ve got responsibilities to people you count as friends, and to a girl who you count as more, if I don’t miss my guess. We need you at your best, lad. We need the man that we trusted to help get us through hell and back.”

“How can anyone trust me?”

“You want that kind of trust again? Earn it. Ask yourself what kind of man you are, and have the right answer: do what we came here to do.” _And an apology wouldn’t hurt either, lad. If not to me, then to the others. _

The two men sat in silence for a while. Finally, Ander broke the quiet. “Brother, I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

_I had the same question, when I was your age._ “Lad, the only thing I know about Andru Pindanon is that he was a rich, spoiled boy who killed a man and ran. But the young man who saved a little girl in Orloff’s Wood, who fed Icemist over a long winter, and who I trust with my life? His name is Ander Tobin, and he is my friend.”


***

And tune in next week when things begin to really heat up!


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> So congratulations, Oax, you’ve just won!
> 
> That’s right, you - yes you! – get all expense paid trip to Icemist a dogeared copy of the Sunless Citadel, a half-painted mini, a guest spot in an upcoming post, and the right to write the foreword to the Annotated Small Beginnings (and get a printed copy of it, too!). And what the heck, maybe we’ll throw in some chocolate twizzlers or something.
> 
> Unless we break them open for game night first. Or maybe we’ll just send you the leftovers.
> 
> So Oax, send us an email at my username @gmail.com so we can discuss the foreword. We’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.





Wahoo!!  I won!  And the dreadful haikus are at an end!  This is a great day!  

Great update as well.  I can't wait for more.


----------



## dshai527

Okay just so you can see what your half getting...here are some pics of the half-painted fig. you will recieve unless Worm's player shows up and paints a complete one for you. The images are on the lowest setting my camera has so I hope they come out. It has the first coat of paint and the first layer of wash added. I would finish it, but then it wouldn't be as fun to give to you. 

And yes the base has paper in it to hold it on...I don't put the putty on til its done. Who am I kidding I don't ever finsih them before I use them and nick them all up.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Okay just so you can see what your half getting...here are some pics of the half-painted fig. you will recieve unless Worm's player shows up and paints a complete one for you. The images are on the lowest setting my camera has so I hope they come out. It has the first coat of paint and the first layer of wash added. I would finish it, but then it wouldn't be as fun to give to you.
> 
> And yes the base has paper in it to hold it on...I don't put the putty on til its done. Who am I kidding I don't ever finsih them before I use them and nick them all up.




Wow!!  This is going to be the best fig in my collection!


----------



## fett527

So, Rel.  I guess you're a nice guy after all.   You're all the rage in the Gencon thread.

(thought I would get your attention and give us a bump at the same time.)


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> So, Rel.  I guess you're a nice guy after all.   You're all the rage in the Gencon thread.
> 
> (thought I would get your attention and give us a bump at the same time.)




Thanks for the shout out.  I'm sure you can tell by my posts in the "How do I love GenCon..." thread that I had a great time.  Now I'm scrambling to catch up on stuff at home and yet I can't tear myself away from the boards.  I still haven't had time to read the last update here but I'm going to fix that by the end of the day.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Thanks for the shout out.  I'm sure you can tell by my posts in the "How do I love GenCon..." thread that I had a great time.  Now I'm scrambling to catch up on stuff at home and yet I can't tear myself away from the boards.  I still haven't had time to read the last update here but I'm going to fix that by the end of the day.




Take your time.  And I loved your daughters' T-shirt!


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Take your time.  And I loved your daughters' T-shirt!




Thanks!  And by the way, I was wondering if d'shai and Bubbalicious made it up on Saturday?  He sent me an e-mail that I had no time to reply to before leaving but I left him a note at the ENnies booth to try and hook up with them.  If they came and I missed then I'm kinda bummed but I'll make it a point to find you guys next year if you (and I) can make it.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Thanks!  And by the way, I was wondering if d'shai and Bubbalicious made it up on Saturday?  He sent me an e-mail that I had no time to reply to before leaving but I left him a note at the ENnies booth to try and hook up with them.  If they came and I missed then I'm kinda bummed but I'll make it a point to find you guys next year if you (and I) can make it.





Well, number 1 they tried to make plans while I was on vacation and I didn't find out until Thursday that a daytrip may be in the planning.  We all kind of got our wires crossed while trying to put things together and then dshai's air conditioning went on the fritz and he begged off.  Things kind of fell apart from there.

We ended up getting together to do some extra gaming in honor of GenCon, but instead played X-MEN Legends all night and gamed on our normal time on Sunday.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Well, number 1 they tried to make plans while I was on vacation and I didn't find out until Thursday that a daytrip may be in the planning.  We all kind of got our wires crossed while trying to put things together and then dshai's air conditioning went on the fritz and he begged off.  Things kind of fell apart from there.
> 
> We ended up getting together to do some extra gaming in honor of GenCon, but instead played X-MEN Legends all night and gamed on our normal time on Sunday.




Well, on the one hand, I'm sorry that you guys couldn't make it.  But I'm glad that you didn't come up for the day and then discover that I missed my chance to meet you.  Next year!


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

No updates for a while...I'm getting withdrawl pains.    When's the next update coming?

Enk and D'shai, did you get my email about the forward?  Does that work for you or would you like to see something different in it?


----------



## Enkhidu

We got it - working on spit and polish at this point. Presentation, presentation, presentation!


----------



## Dungannon

Ya know, you'd think Enk & D'Shai have actual lives or something the way they've been neglecting this Story Hour and us fans. 

bump disguised as complaint


----------



## Bubbalicious

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Ya know, you'd think Enk & D'Shai have actual lives or something the way they've been neglecting this Story Hour and us fans.
> 
> bump disguised as complaint




In all actuality, Enk has finally found someone on his intellectual level with whom he can converse.  He's enjoying this while it lasts because his son will enrolling in Kindergarten in a couple more years, then he won't have much more time for daddy's "stupid talk".

D'Shai, on the other hand, has absolutely no excuse.  He's just a beeyotch!!!


----------



## fett527

It's really my fault...

Not really.  But I always try to help a brother out.


----------



## dshai527

Things you "could" blame for the story hour being late..(roll a d10 for best results add modifiers as needed)
1) X-men or X-box or both (Darn game sucks the brain right outta ya
2) Puzzle Pirates...stupid online game sucks what's left
3) Football Pre-season (imagine what the real season will be like..GO STEELERS!)
4) Enk
5) Small Beginnings Book I (or Kinkos for not working with us to get it bound properly)
6) Rehearsal for talk like a pirate day (Sept 19 people!)
7) Treants and the work needed to cut them down from your back yard 
8) Road construction (I blame it for everything else)
9) New Campaign starting Oct 1 (Maybe a new story hour..maybe not..hey we can't even do one on time)
10) Price of Chicken in China
11) Knee injury
12) Precarious precipace with armed ninjas
13) Money to buy a new laptop ....now which one
14) Baseball Playoff (Even if the Reds and Pirates are already out!)
15) Setting Tivo for fall schedule
16) Spiders and other random encounters
17) Acute case of computer phobia 
18) Global Warming


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Those are some pretty good reasons for the dearth of updates.  I just hope that they can all be overcome soon so that we can enjoy more story hour goodness in the very near future!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*About Time*

This is a test of your Emergancy Posting System. This is only a test. If this were an actual post there would be witty banter right here. Enk and Mrs. Enk have not given birth to another little Enkette. D'shai however is on a business trip, so anybody in the D.C area from 9/19/05 to 9/23/05  or Salt Lake City, Utah from 9/25/05 to 9/30/05 that wants to have a libation give us a post. We will now return you to your regularly way past due update from two weeks ago. 


****
“This changes everything” Theo said, rubbing his chin. The Ionian could hear the concern in the old cleric’s voice.

“That's… that’s horrible!” squeaked Pack. “What kind of monsters… We can’t just leave him there, we’ve got to do something!" The bard’s voice cracked with panic, and Theo let a firm hand drop to the halfling’s shoulder. Pack calmed visibly at the old man’s firm touch.

 "I told you we shouldn't have waited so long to go." Worm snapped as he glared at the woodsman.  

"Ander?" Ashrem let the ranger’s name hang in the air for a moment. That he had chosen to use that particular name was telling. Soon, all eyes rested on the ranger.

_How can you look to me after what I've done?_ "Gather your gear,” he said unsteadily, “we’re going now. Ashrem, are you sure it was the coachman that they had hostage?"

"That is difficult to say for certain: I could not identify what was left of his face. His scent is the same as the one who transported us to Sir Brandimere's. That is as sure as I can be." The feloine paused for a moment as he shifted in Grogger’s doorway, "I believe it to be no coincidence that his torturers are members of the same tattooed clan that attacked us when we first entered the city."

"Agreed,” said the woodsman as he shifted his hastily donned leather jack. He still felt the eyes on him. “Its a few blocks north right by the river, right? Very well, we’ll work in three groups: Ashrem, you take the lead, and Pack and I will follow about a block behind you. Theo, I need you and Worm to bring up our rear, about a block behind that. Try to stay out of lamplight as best you can.”

Worm grumbled. “We should just rush them. Put them off balance and smash them while they spin.”

“No. Keeping to the shadows is our best path. If we can get into position and hit them all at once we might still be able to get that coachman out alive. It’s our fault he’s there in the first place.” Worm had already started whipping his massive cudgel around the room by the time the Ionian had finished, and the young warrior sighed and shook his head. “Ash, let’s move,” he said, turning back toward the feloine. 

The doorway was already empty, the feloine already having disappeared into the shadows of the moonlit street. With a deep breath the woodsman followed suit, dodging across the street, weaving behind an abandoned cart, and sliding into a darkened alcove with his halfling shadow in tow. From structure to structure the pair noiselessly moved, dogging Ashrem’s steps and watching for those brief moments when the scout would glide through lamp-lit alleys from one building to the next. _Good thing Theo knows this city. I doubt he and Worm would be able to keep up otherwise._ 

Finally, Ashrem slid through the glow of a high lamp illuminating a small riverside dock and took cover behind a single land-docked rowboat. With a pat on the halfling’s shoulder, the woodsman sent Pack to join him, and soon all three crouched behind the tiny ship.

“The shack is there,” said the feloine, pointing to a well lit but dilapidated shanty that leaned precariously toward the river near which it was built. “If all is the same, there are four men inside: the hostage and three others armed with small swords. There are two entrances, one in the front, and one in the back, and a window set in the roof.”

“Go ahead and get into position. Pack and I will wait here for Theo and Worm. On your signal we’ll move up behind you. You taking the roof?”

“Yes.”

The Ionian placed a hand on the scout’s shoulder. “Listen. About before. I should have told you. I should have…”

The feloine's yellow eyes seemed to glow as they turned to meet his. "You cannot undo what has been done, Ander. Whatever you have done in the past does not affect what you do now. If you make mention of it again, I will consider it an insult to our friendship." The words hung in the air long after the scout had skulked off into the night.

Ander watched as the scout edged around the circle of light surrounding the shack, moving in and out of the light as he crept around the corner of the shanty. _Snakes bite my eyes! He's lost his whole island and all I can think about is myself! Gods mark me for a fool!_ 

"Oh no!" Pack's whispered warning turned Ander's attention backward, toward the thumping footfalls that could be heard echoing from the adjoining street. 

"Bones, Worm, no!" Ander hissed as the hulking half-orc sped from the shadows, racing straight toward the ramshackle hut. A bloodcurdling roar erupted from the warrior as he passed the hidden pair. 

The woodsman could only watch as Worm’s shoulder demolished the shanty and began swinging his two-handed club. Ander cursed as he sprinted forward, leaving Pack quickly behind. Moments later the Ionian barreled through what was left of the doorway only to see a thug crash limply though the thin wood siding next to it, propelled with a wet smack by the half-orc’s huge club.

"Ha! I had to hit him a second time because I hit him so hard the first time he forgot that he got hit!" the half-orc proclaimed, leaning against his club and marveling at his own handiwork._ Arrogant little…_

Ander moved to join Ashrem on the far side of the hut where the feloine was cleaning his blade; the prone corpse of another clan member lay bleeding beneath his feet. “Where's the third?" the woodsman asked, as Theo and Pack entered the hovel. The cleric was breathing heavily after the unexpected run. 

"He ran like a jackrabbit and dropped through a trap door before I could get to him,” said the half-orc, jerking his thumb toward a hatchway set in the floor. “I told you – smash ‘em while they spin. I must have scared him half to death when I came through the door. He even tried tossing a knife at me, but didn’t even come close.”

“I don’t think he was aiming at you, Worm,” said Pack quietly. The half-orc’s littler but older brother pointed past the smiling warrior to a long handled dagger protruding from the chest of the hostage, still bound to a chair in the middle of the bare room. The blade had been thrown expertly, and left no question as to its real target.

Theo, still winded, had already moved to the coachman and placed a hand to his neck. “Dead,” he said through breaths. “We’re too late.”

“Indeed,” said Ashrem. “The killer even had time to lock this escape route behind him.”

“Damnation!” Ander whispered as he clenched his staff. “Ashrem, open that thing so we can give that gutterrot what he deserves!”

With practiced motion the scout produced a small leather case filled with thin tools. “Have patience, Ander. He may run, but he cannot hide, and he has likely trapped his escape route. Give me a moment to…”

"Always with the talking when you should be doing,” grunted Worm. “Step aside and let the Wyrm show you how it’s done!" The half-orc shoved the scout aside and straddled a corner of the portal. 

"No, lad! Don't!" cried Theo, rushing toward the half-orc. But the warning went unheeded, and Ander watched, puzzled, as the hulking warrior jumped a halfling’s height into the air.

“Blood and bones,” Ander whispered as Worm slammed feet first onto the hatchway, disappearing in a flash of brilliant light that sprouted tendrils of Zuras-like energy that arced toward the survivors.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> D'shai however is on a business trip, so anybody in the D.C area from 9/19/05 to 9/23/05  or Salt Lake City, Utah from 9/25/05 to 9/30/05 that wants to have a libation give us a post.




I am about a half hour drive north of Salt Lake City.  I'd love to meet up for lunch or something like that while you're out here in my neck of the woods.  Shoot me off an email and we can discuss.  

Great update!  You have just got to love Worm, don't ya?


----------



## dshai527

You love Worm till you play with him..hehe...then you just smile and shake your head

I sent you a few emails let me know if you got them.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

dshai527 said:
			
		

> You love Worm till you play with him..hehe...then you just smile and shake your head
> 
> I sent you a few emails let me know if you got them.




I can understand that feeling.  I'm sure I'd be the same way.  

Yep, I got them.  I'll probably reply sometime later today or tomorrow (depending on what you consider today and tomorrow really seeing as it is now 1:35am my time.)


----------



## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> "Bones, Worm, no!" Ander hissed as the hulking half-orc sped from the shadows, racing straight toward the ramshackle hut. A bloodcurdling roar erupted from the warrior as he passed the hidden pair.
> 
> The woodsman could only watch as Worm’s shoulder demolished the shanty and began swinging his two-handed club.




Did the "bloodcurdling roar" sound anything like "LEEEEEROOOY!"


----------



## dshai527

Okay so here I am in our nation's capitol and they must have known I was coming. i mean why else does my hotel room have an eight person conference table in it with a full fridge and a microwave. This is sweet. Gaming at my place and yes I packed my dice. I mean who travel's without their dice. Can't wait to see what Salt Lake city does for me


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Did the "bloodcurdling roar" sound anything like "LEEEEEROOOY!"




 

Won't be the last time either.


----------



## Enkhidu

Would it surprise you to know that we finally finished the Annotated Small Beginnings? 

Now I know we can't really afford to print this thing out and bind it up real nice for everyone (you've got to win otherwise pointless contests around here for that sort of thing - and yes, they are at the printers right now and will be shipping out as soon as both D'Shai and I can slap our John Hancock's on them), but I imagine that if you go to your local Kinkos and ask real nice (or maybe give them some dough) they can print and bind a copy for you. And if you like your books to have covers, you can even grab the ones we use for our own nefarious purposes over at this site. Simply grab the images and run for the hills.

By the way, if you download a copy of this and like it - or heck, even if you hate it - drop us a line at enkhidu@gmail.com (and put Small Beginnings in the title). We always appreciate hearing new perspectives on our work, our style, and our ideas: even if they aren't always the kindest.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the collection! I know that D'Shai and I enjoyed putting it together, and might even try it again one day.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

It looks great!  I especially like the first forward in it... 

I can't wait to get my printed copy when D'Shai comes out here to SLC.


----------



## Rel

Wait, wait, WAIT!!

d'shai527's name is "Klint"?!  With a "K"?!

Everything I know is wrong!


----------



## dshai527

What's wrong with the letter K...my little girl's name starts with a K. 

Oax, 

Sorry man, but the binding wasn't done soon enough to come with me...and i left your figs and twizzlers at home. Maybe my wife wll grab them for me though..let me ask. I am meeting her for a weekend in San Diego. it will be nice.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> What's wrong with the letter K...my little girl's name starts with a K.




Nothing is wrong with the letter K.  You just never struck me as a "Klint".  It's so...not how I pictured your name.

Anyway, I'm gonna name my next character Klint.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Nothing is wrong with the letter K.  You just never struck me as a "Klint".  It's so...not how I pictured your name.
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna name my next character Klint.




I know, I know.  You were expecting somehting more along the lines of "Tarquin Fintimlinbinwhinbimlim Bus Stop F'tang F'tang Ole Biscuit-Barrel"


----------



## Rel

Ok, sorry Klint but I'm now naming my next character Tarquin Fintimlinbinwhinbimlim Bus Stop F'tang F'tang Ole Biscuit-Barrel.

Hope you understand.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

dshai527 said:
			
		

> What's wrong with the letter K...my little girl's name starts with a K.
> 
> Oax,
> 
> Sorry man, but the binding wasn't done soon enough to come with me...and i left your figs and twizzlers at home. Maybe my wife wll grab them for me though..let me ask. I am meeting her for a weekend in San Diego. it will be nice.




Well I'll forgive you this once.    Have fun in San Diego.  

I like the letter K too.  My son's name, my middle name, and my dad's name all start with the letter K.

This post has been brought to you by the letter K and by the number 17.


----------



## fett527

Hey guys, baby update.

If you didn't know Enkhidu and his wife are expecting their second child.  Well they took Mrs. Enk into the hospital today for her C-section.  Will update when I know more.

Good luck to them!


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

fett527 said:
			
		

> Hey guys, baby update.
> 
> If you didn't know Enkhidu and his wife are expecting their second child.  Well they took Mrs. Enk into the hospital today for her C-section.  Will update when I know more.
> 
> Good luck to them!




Pass along my congratulations and best wishes to them!


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Pass along my congratulations and best wishes to them!




Ditto!  And tell them that a good name for the baby would be Tarquin Fintimlinbinwhinbimlim Bus Stop F'tang F'tang Ole Biscuit-Barrel!


----------



## Tamlyn

Most impressive!! 

And I hope all goes well with the C-Section!!

~Tam


----------



## fett527

Gwendolyn May
8lbs., 21 in.

They got diverted to another hospital and didn't get into the OR there until much later than anticipated.  Everyone is doing fine.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

fett527 said:
			
		

> Gwendolyn May
> 8lbs., 21 in.
> 
> They got diverted to another hospital and didn't get into the OR there until much later than anticipated.  Everyone is doing fine.




No offense to Rel, but I like Gwendolyn May much better than his suggestion.    I'm glad that everyone is doing fine.  Can't wait to see some pics.


----------



## Dungannon

A girl, huh?  I wonder if Enk already has the moat dug and the barbwire planted.


----------



## Verbatim

Just wanted to say congrats on the new addition of another future gamer...


----------



## Enkhidu

Thanks to all the well wishers! Mom and baby are doing well, and hopefully we'll get to come home tomorrow.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

*Dinner with D'Shai*

I just wanted to drop by and let everyone know what a great guy D'Shai is.  I had the pleasure of meeting him for a quick dinner out here in my neck of the woods (Utah).  We met at a restaurant, Gray Cliffs Lodge, in the beautiful Ogden canyon and we had a great time even though D'Shai was late due to my ineffectual attempts at getting him to drive into the Great Salt Lake.

D'Shai even brought most of the items that I won in the haiku contest.  I have the half painted mini in a place of prominence on my desk at work and the licorice was given to my wife as a peace offering for arriving home later than planned.    I can't wait to get my annotated copy of the Small Beginnings.  D'Shai said that it's back from the printer and that it looks great!

Enk, I hope all is still great with the new addition to your family.


----------



## Enkhidu

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> I just wanted to drop by and let everyone know *what a great guy D'Shai is*.




OMG! Who was that and what did he do with D'Shai?!?


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> OMG! Who was that and what did he do with D'Shai?!?




For the moment I'm convinced that Oaxacan Warrior left his wireless laptop on the table while he went to the bathroom and that message was actually posted BY D'Shai.


----------



## Old One

Another "Congrats"!

Hope everyone is doing well...

~ OO


----------



## fett527

Old One said:
			
		

> Another "Congrats"!
> 
> Hope everyone is doing well...
> 
> ~ OO




Hey OO.  Have you posted here before?


----------



## Old One

fett527 said:
			
		

> Hey OO.  Have you posted here before?




*searches back through memory banks*

Yep...but it has been awhile.  I finally got caught up on both SH installments and posted something to that affect a while back...mainly a lurker here, though.

~ OO


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> For the moment I'm convinced that Oaxacan Warrior left his wireless laptop on the table while he went to the bathroom and that message was actually posted BY D'Shai.




Well he did buy me some delicious fried mushrooms...


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Well he did buy me some delicious fried mushrooms...




WHORE!


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> For the moment I'm convinced that Oaxacan Warrior left his wireless laptop on the table while he went to the bathroom and that message was actually posted BY D'Shai.





Who says I need his laptop to post as him  I stole his wallet while he wasn't looking and he has all his passwords written down. No money though :\  so my plan of offering to pay but use his money fell through.  Rel I was going to use that money to bribe you to make your next character Klint also. Sorry. (BTW - I have to know what you pictured my name as. Hopefully not Steve or Wally.)

A fine time was had by all though once I found out that west means east in Oaxacan language and that trains stop for no reason other than to block intersections around here. I get to go home tomorrow..yeah. Wait my grass hasn't been mowed in two weeks...darn it.


----------



## fett527

Old One said:
			
		

> *searches back through memory banks*
> 
> Yep...but it has been awhile.  I finally got caught up on both SH installments and posted something to that affect a while back...mainly a lurker here, though.
> 
> ~ OO




Nice to have you along.  Sorry I didn't remember seeing your post before.  Don't be a stranger!


----------



## Rel

So is there any chance the PC's will be using a trebuchet in the next update?  Because that would be cool (if a little loud).


----------



## Old One

Rel said:
			
		

> So is there any chance the PC's will be using a trebuchet in the next update?  Because that would be cool (if a little loud).




*Snort*

You just like saying/writing "Trebuchet", don't you? 

~ OO


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> So is there any chance the PC's will be using a trebuchet in the next update?  Because that would be cool (if a little loud).




It is to laugh.


----------



## Rel

Old One said:
			
		

> *Snort*
> 
> You just like saying/writing "Trebuchet", don't you?
> 
> ~ OO




*Hush.  I'm trying to poke fun at Fett.*


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *Hush.  I'm trying to poke fun at Fett.*




Too bad it backfired!  Old One's post couldn't have been any more timely.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Too bad it backfired!  Old One's post couldn't have been any more timely.




I'll get you for this, Old One!  I swear it!


----------



## fett527

Verbatim said:
			
		

> Just wanted to say congrats on the new addition of another future gamer...




hey Verbatim.  I missed your post in all the excitement.  have we seen you post before?  We'll have more kids if it means we can coax some of the lurkers to post.


----------



## Dungannon

fett527 said:
			
		

> hey Verbatim.  I missed your post in all the excitement.  have we seen you post before?  We'll have more kids if it means we can coax some of the lurkers to post.



It might be a good idea if you clear that with the Mrs., fett.  After all, she'll be the one doing all the work.


----------



## Thornir Alekeg

I just read through the whole of Small Beginnings and I would like to say how much I loved it...but then I'd be lying.  Actually, I did really enjoy it and am only disappointed that now I have to sit around and wait for updates like everyone else.   

Oh, and that's another child for the group.  Get cracking, I expect a little Thornir within the next 12 months.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Rel said:
			
		

> For the moment I'm convinced that Oaxacan Warrior left his wireless laptop on the table while he went to the bathroom and that message was actually posted BY D'Shai.




Naaaaah..... if D'Shai had written it, Oaxacon Warrior Princess (his wife) might have been worried to see her husband seemingly ramble endlessly about how "masculine, handsome, and downright damned sexy D'Shai is. (NOT!!!)  Twizzler breath does nothing, either, to persuade the missus that you're not becoming a "Nancy-boy".


----------



## Bubbalicious

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Rel I was going to use that money to bribe you to make your next character Klint also. Sorry. (BTW - I have to know what you pictured my name as. Hopefully not Steve or Wally.)




Actually, I think you LOOK like a Zamfir.  Or maybe a Bruce (with lisp).


----------



## Bubbalicious

fett527 said:
			
		

> hey Verbatim.  I missed your post in all the excitement.  have we seen you post before?  We'll have more kids if it means we can coax some of the lurkers to post.




Or maybe we'll just finally claim some of the ones we already have. 

Not all, of course, that could get awfully expensive.


----------



## Rel

Dungannon said:
			
		

> It might be a good idea if you clear that with the Mrs., fett.  After all, she'll be the one doing all the work.




Only after the first 3 minutes.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> Only after the first 3 minutes.




Generosity, thy name is Rel.


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Generosity, thy name is Rel.




I try to cut Fett a little slack since he has to put up with you guys.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> I try to cut Fett a little slack since he has to put up with you guys.




That's it. I've had it. Just for that crack, wise guy, I'm signing up _now_ for any game you DM at next year's GenCon.


----------



## dshai527

Ohhh count me in. Together we can hijack a plot faster than Fett can....well you know "Wash the dishes."


----------



## Bubbalicious

I'm there, and if we also bring Jon the Nudist, he won't know what hit him!


----------



## Ashy

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> That's it. I've had it. Just for that crack, wise guy, I'm signing up _now_ for any game you DM at next year's GenCon.




Does that mean you are actually going to *go*?  

Just popping in from home - I'm still alive and still reading when I can - darn Net Nazis at work!  

EDIT: a PDF copy of the SH would be really nice for us who are plagued by the powers of internet censorship!  (wink, wink, nudge, nudge...)


----------



## fett527

Ashy said:
			
		

> Does that mean you are actually going to *go*?
> 
> Just popping in from home - I'm still alive and still reading when I can - darn Net Nazis at work!
> 
> EDIT: a PDF copy of the SH would be really nice for us who are plagued by the powers of internet censorship!  (wink, wink, nudge, nudge...)




Hey Ashy!  Nice to hear fom you again.  Hope things are going well for you.

And after our almost day-trip to GenCon this year we have declared that we will attend next year.  Besides, someone has to steal the spotlight away from Rel.


----------



## Old One

fett527 said:
			
		

> Besides, someone has to steal the spotlight away from Rel.




Pfft...

Next year Rel will probably dress up like Carmen Electra in her "dirty dancing" DVD and bring a red-butted monkey, just to make sure he gets _all_ the attention !

~ OO


----------



## fett527

Old One said:
			
		

> Pfft...
> 
> Next year Rel will probably dress up like Carmen Electra in her "dirty dancing" DVD and bring a red-butted monkey, just to make sure he gets _all_ the attention !
> 
> ~ OO




OK, Old One, you need to keep posting here!


----------



## Verbatim

I have been a long time lurker of the story hour(s) and almost entered myself into some of the contests you guys have held, but chickened out in the end. However, if you guys are ever in the Balt/D.C. area again, I would love to invite myself out for a beer (root or other) and general hanging out.


----------



## dshai527

Dang it Verb I was just there and bored outta my mind (Okay I was sick in a hotel room, but same thing) and now you want me to come back already...sheesh.   

Good to see you posting. I promise that now that I am back form my travels we will have something posted soon. And maybe a little extra special stuff soon after that...but I am not promising anything.


----------



## dshai527

> EDIT: a PDF copy of the SH would be really nice for us who are plagued by the powers of internet censorship!  (wink, wink, nudge, nudge...)




What!? PDF's cost money and Enk is broke I tell ya broke. Besides you get a free copy of the bound book here soon sonny...that's where Enk's money went. As far as he knows anyway. Hint Hint.


----------



## Verbatim

I would be willing to Paypal some funds for a broader circulation. I think my godson has a piggie bank around here somewhere..*L*


----------



## Enkhidu

OK,

Go here to grab an electronic copy (you hosers! It's been up for about 2 weeks now!). It'll give you a sneak peek at what our contest winners are receiving in the mail. And if you're nice to your local print shop (or bribe them with money - what's the deal with people wanting to get paid?) they might even bind one up for you all pretty-like.


----------



## Rel

Old One said:
			
		

> Pfft...
> 
> Next year Rel will probably dress up like Carmen Electra in her "dirty dancing" DVD and bring a red-butted monkey, just to make sure he gets _all_ the attention !
> 
> ~ OO




No, I'm going to dress up as Morpheus and bring a red-butted monkey AND a blue-butted monkey and give people a choice.

"I know what you're thinking right about now...'Why didn't I pick the blue-assed monkey?!'"


----------



## Old One

Aren't you missing something?  It should be:



			
				Rel said:
			
		

> "I know what you're thinking right about now...'Why didn't I pick the blue-assed monkey *[poo]* ?!'"




Otherwise, your monkeys wouldn't last long...

~ OO


----------



## Rel

Old One said:
			
		

> Aren't you missing something?




I felt the poo was implied.



(How often do you get to use that sentence?)


----------



## Ashy

dshai527 said:
			
		

> What!? PDF's cost money and Enk is broke I tell ya broke. Besides you get a free copy of the bound book here soon sonny...that's where Enk's money went. As far as he knows anyway. Hint Hint.




WOOT!  Not about the being broke part, mind ya...


----------



## Ashy

Rel said:
			
		

> "I know what you're thinking right about now...'Why didn't I pick the blue-assed monkey?!'"




(said in my best Homestarrunner voice): "Dat is soooo sigworveey..."


----------



## Enkhidu

Verbatim said:
			
		

> I would be willing to Paypal some funds for a broader circulation. I think my godson has a piggie bank around here somewhere..*L*




Hey, while we'd love to take your money get everyone a bound copy of the first Small Beginnings story arc, I want to make it very clear that we aren't selling anything here. We can't, because too much of it involves closed material owned by WotC. So instead we're making it available to our internet friends for free, and giving a handful of bound copies to our contest winners/etc.

That being said, I am keeping track of downloads of the pdf - if it turns out that our following is somewhat larger than I think it is (and if we finally get Heroes done - something we haven't even gotten near yet), we've been playing around with the idea of turning the subsequent story arcs into for-sale items (with the requisite increases in production value that would entail). Heck, with even a small success Wulf might finally get Piratecat to polish up his SH for bound, public condumption.


----------



## Verbatim

I would never think of it as you were _selling things_ I would just be volunteering to help with the Kinkos cost of things. That being said, as you put it, I could just download and save it and print it out myself.

All in all, just trying to make up for lost time with an almost blind showing of support..

Of course, I also have a fever of 102 and pnuemonia right now, so I could just be talking out of my mind...


----------



## Rel

Verbatim said:
			
		

> Of course, I also have a fever of 102 and pnuemonia right now, so I could just be talking out of my mind...




That could indeed be dangerous.  It might be best if you liquidated all your assets and mail me the money so you don't do anything silly with it while you're in this altered state of mind.


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> That could indeed be dangerous.  It might be best if you liquidated all your assets and mail me the money so you don't do anything silly with it while you're in this altered state of mind.





Must...OBEY...Rel. Must ....obey...Rel!


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Verbatim said:
			
		

> I have been a long time lurker of the story hour(s) and almost entered myself into some of the contests you guys have held, but chickened out in the end. However, if you guys are ever in the Balt/D.C. area again, I would love to invite myself out for a beer (root or other) and general hanging out.




Verbatim, thanks for not entering the contests!  It improved my odds and allowed me to win one of them.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> That could indeed be dangerous.  It might be best if you liquidated all your assets and mail me the money so you don't do anything silly with it while you're in this altered state of mind.




Just so that you all know it, Rel's mailing address is listed below.  He has asked that all money be mailed to it ASAP.

   3799 Foxglen Dr
   Roy, UT 84067

I know that Rel will appreciate all the money sent.


----------



## Verbatim

With so much concern over my limited fiscal assets, it is too hard to choose who to send it to. I guess I had just better divide it up among everyone so I don't hurt anyone's feelings.


----------



## Rel

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Just so that you all know it, Rel's mailing address is listed below.  He has asked that all money be mailed to it ASAP.
> 
> 3799 Foxglen Dr
> Roy, UT 84067
> 
> I know that Rel will appreciate all the money sent.




Ha HA!  My nefarious plan worked!  I have sussed out OaxacanWarrior's address.  Not that I would do anything untoward with that information.  In fact as a show of good faith, I'm sending you some choice cuts of veal.

Via 4th class U.S. Mail.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Rel said:
			
		

> Ha HA!  My nefarious plan worked!  I have sussed out OaxacanWarrior's address.  Not that I would do anything untoward with that information.  In fact as a show of good faith, I'm sending you some choice cuts of veal.
> 
> Via 4th class U.S. Mail.




Wahoo!!  Putrid veal is one of my favorites!


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> ...sussed ...




I love this word.


----------



## fett527

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> I love this word.




Rel seems to like trebuchet.


----------



## Richard Rawen

*So what I gather from recent posts:*

Rel sussed out OaxacanWarrior's address so that he can trebuchet (using 4th class mail, which seems pretty accurate) some putrid veal (OaxacanWarrior's fav) because Verbatim is delerious and ...
wait... there were multi-colored monkey butts in there as well...

*Shakes the dazed look from his face* Why was I posting again?


----------



## Rel

Richard Rawen said:
			
		

> Why was I posting again?




I suspect that you're just killing time like the rest of us until SOMEBODY gets around to posting again.


----------



## dshai527

We have been posting...its just in code embedded within other posts (and not necessarily just within this thread). I mean clearly trebuchet is "Worm exploded him like a blood sausage!" in a very easy encrypted format. So have fun as you take that hint and reread the posts enjoying our latest writing experiment.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> We have been posting...its just in code embedded within other posts (and not necessarily just within this thread). I mean clearly trebuchet is "Worm exploded him like a blood sausage!" in a very easy encrypted format. So have fun as you take that hint and reread the posts enjoying our latest writing experiment.




You're obviously confusing me with someone who isn't incredibly lazy.

Now just post the damn update, monkey boy!


----------



## dshai527

Sorry Sir. May I have another


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> ...monkey boy!




You've been looking at those pictures again, haven't you?

You know, _those_ pictures.


----------



## dshai527

I was young and needed the money. Oh wait...those pictures! I have no recollection of those events Senator.


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> You've been looking at those pictures again, haven't you?
> 
> You know, _those_ pictures.




The trebuchet pics?  Yeah...


----------



## Richard Rawen

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I was young and needed the money. Oh wait...those pictures! I have no recollection of those events Senator.




That depends on what you mean by is.
or was it sussed?


----------



## Bubbalicious

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I was young and needed the money. Oh wait...those pictures! I have no recollection of those events Senator.




He did not have sexual relations with that monkey.  (Though he sussed it quite roundly!)


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I was young and needed the money. Oh wait...those pictures! I have no recollection of those events Senator.




Incidentally, when I first read this I could have sworn it was "I was young and needed the *monkey*.  Which would have been comedy GOLD.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> The trebuchet pics?  Yeah...










I know you like the toons Rel, but this is the closest I could come.


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> Incidentally, when I first read this I could have sworn it was "I was young and needed the *monkey*.  Which would have been comedy GOLD.




I don't need the monkey. I can quit at any time. I'm on the monkey patch. You can quit Munky Patch can help.

However there is no cure for MonChee-Chee.


----------



## Enkhidu

dshai527 said:
			
		

> I don't need the monkey. I can quit at any time. I'm on the monkey patch. You can quit Munky Patch can help.
> 
> However there is no cure for MonChee-Chee.




It is obviously past your bedtime.


----------



## Verbatim

Just wanted to pass to all those kind souls who were willing to help a sick man out with his money issues, that I am feeling much better now, and no longer needing that guidance with my cash...

So...with the hold-up of a new post obviously being the concern for my health, and maybe a little bit because of the baby, feel free to post once more.

Or we can just keep chatting amongst ourselves...yanno..whatever works for all parties.


----------



## Tamlyn

Since all the monkey talk, trebuchet pictures, and sussing seem to have been completed can we please, please, please have some more of the story??

Many thanks,
Tam


----------



## dshai527

Sorry about the delay guys and I would like to give some great excuses (Besides newborns - we might play that one out) as to why we are late, but we haven't saved the world or cured any diseases (Neither one of us plays a cleric very well). All I can say is that we have a post ready to go for the most part (We have thought about it..just kidding) its just finding that last few minutes to put the finishing touches on it. Having a two (and sometimes three - yeah Fett) person writing style is not as easy as it was when we first started...minus three kids. The books also took more out of us than we want to admit...BTW Rel, Ashy, and Oax..I am waiting on Fett's and Aurora's (I know Aurora lives with me, but hey she's the boss not me and she'll sign when she's ready..hehe) and D'shai's signatures to send out the books.

Rel, I was going to email you, but I lost track of time, but Aurora and I were down in Hickory NC last week...is that at all close to you. Oh well next time. 

Okay so to recap...New post almost done...Books to be sent out next week. (On a side note..We have started a new campaign while Enk is away from the group and we may get a story hour up about that one...maybe with Enk's help and maybe without.)


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Rel, I was going to email you, but I lost track of time, but Aurora and I were down in Hickory NC last week...is that at all close to you. Oh well next time.




Hickory is way up in the western part of the state so I probably couldn't have hooked up with you guys.  Although I was as far west as Charlotte doing some work and had a chance to nip over into South Carolina to have dinner with ENWorld's Nakia who had, just the week before, had dinner with Old One.

We've got a hell of a good network going around here!


----------



## Dawn

Rel said:
			
		

> Hickory is way up in the western part of the state so I probably couldn't have hooked up with you guys.  Although I was as far west as Charlotte doing some work and had a chance to nip over into South Carolina to have dinner with ENWorld's Nakia who had, just the week before, had dinner with Old One.
> 
> We've got a hell of a good network going around here!




Hickory is over on my side of the state!  Just a hour or so up the road from Charlotte.  And here I see Rel came "into the city" and didn't even let us know.


----------



## Rel

Dawn said:
			
		

> Hickory is over on my side of the state!  Just a hour or so up the road from Charlotte.  And here I see Rel came "into the city" and didn't even let us know.




I wasn't precise enough.  Actually I passed briefly through Charlotte on my way to Rock Hill (SC).  If I'd had time I certainly would have stopped in Charlotte long enough to have dinner with your wife.


----------



## Dawn

Rel said:
			
		

> I wasn't precise enough.  Actually I passed briefly through Charlotte on my way to Rock Hill (SC).  If I'd had time I certainly would have stopped in Charlotte long enough to have dinner with your wife.




Oh, I see how we're being now!  Trying to get to my redhead.  

Just let us know when you're passing through again.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

So D'shai, it looks like the volume of our fanmail has dwindled as of late. 

Not surprising considering our blisting post rate. Well, go on and read them anyway. 

Okay, but they are pretty brutal. 

I'm ready. 

Is that why you have a crash helmet on?

No, but now that you mention it that is a good idea.  

Riiiight. Anyway...

Dear Enk and D'Shai,

If Rel had a trebuchet and initiative what are the odds of him beating HULK?

Signed, Curious George​
Hmmm. If Rel were smart and used the trebuchet as cover while apologizing for what ever made HULK mad I would say that a 1 in 20 chance just so it fits into the current system. 

I would ask about aid another on that, but I don't think anybody would actually be willing to help. Anyway next question. 

Number two:

Dear Hero Guys,

What is up with Sony? I mean first no network capability for the PS3 and now the DRM issue. Can't these guys get it together?

Signed, Furious George​
Wow. Oooh, when you said brutal it was an understatment. Okay I think I got this one Rosenhaus style...

"Next Question." 

Dear writers of great renown,

My gaming group has a serious problem about nobody wanting to play a cleric. How do we deal with this in game terms without unbalancing the system?

Signed, Fett​
Good question Fett and I would have to say just eek it out until Enk is ready to come back to the game table, but only offer to let him play if he plays that healer class from the mini's book. He hates combat anyway. 

I play one, _one_, noncombatant and I get stuck with that label forever. 

I think its more about dice hating you. 

Hey, I hit once in awhile.

Sure you do. Against armorless kobolds, and oozes, and barns. Next Question. 

Dear most awesome authors of fantasy fiction,

What is your most secretest secret?

Signed Top Secret​
My secret is buried on a remote island with only one map and a series of vague clues leading to it. I occasionly send it postcards though. Yours Enk?

My secret is that I have learned to treat you as a figment of my imagination. 

I like figs. 

That's it. I'm out. 

Tip O' the Day:
Making zombie jokes at a funeral, while funny, may get you crossed off Christmas lists. 


*****


The flash blinded the aging cleric even through his tightly closed lids, and pain arced through his body as the shocking snare sprang. With more instinct than thought, Theo ducked behind his shield, throwing it forward by the boss in hopes of escaping the blast alive. The jolt nearly knocked him from his feet as it coursed through his body. When it finally ended, the aging cleric sank to his knees, his heart racing and his chest refusing to expand.

The priest forced himself to breathe, and slowly opened his eyes to a brilliant display of sparkles and spots. For a moment, he thought he had passed into Zuras’ halls; the pain in his chest brought him back to the carnal realm. “If you’ve not called me home, Lord,” he whispered, “maybe you could take the pain from an old man’s bones?”  Immediately, Theo felt insubstantial arms wrap around him, and his pain faded in the holy embrace.

He stood, reinvigorated, and took stock: his shield lay on the ground, the wood around the steel boss smoking, and several links on the short sleeve of his chain shirt had welded themselves together. “Theo, you alive?” asked Ander.

“I think so,” he answered, glancing over at the ranger. The young man rolled out from underneath a shattered table and began shaking off the dust and splinters. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No,” said Ashrem, dropping lightly from a beam on the ceiling right in front of the priest. “Pack?”

“I was out of range, but… but Worm…” The halfling rushed toward the hole in the floor. “Worm! Worm, are you down there? He’s not answering!”

Theo stepped beside the bard and looked down into the darkness. “I can’t hear or see him down there,” he said. “Pack, fetch me a stone.”

Pack pressed a rough rock into the priest’s palm. “He’s fine. He’s fine, right?”

The cleric didn’t answer, instead clutching the stone tightly as he murmured a prayer meant to light the way, and dropped the glowing stone into the hole. He watched it plummet, finally disappearing with a splash into murky water. “It’s a long drop,” he said, “two maybe three stories, but there are rungs set in the wall.”

“I’ve got to go get him!” said Pack as he bolted down the shaft. 

“No, lad!” cried Theo for a second time, but the halfling had already clambered out of arms reach. “Tree on a hilltop, boy, you don’t know what’s down there! Come back up until…” 

An angry, indistinct shout echoed up from below. “It’s Worm!” cried Pack in answer as he hustled his way out of view. “I’m coming Worm!”

Theo, hampered by the welds in his now ill-fitting chainmail, was last in the dash toward the shaft rungs and his friends soon outdistanced him on the ladder. He heard one, two, and then three splashes below him.  A moment later, he heard the roar of half-orc laughter followed by a flurry of voices.

“Worm! I thought I’d lost you!” Pack’s happy voice was accompanied by a wet thud.  
“Indeed,” said Ashrem from below. “It appeared that, in addition to destroying the building, triggering the trap, and nearly killing Brother Theobald in the process, you had fallen to your death.” The scout’s voice seemed even more controlled than usual. Theo, unsure what to make of it, shook his head and dropped the last few feet into the muck below.

The cleric glanced around at his dimly lit companions. Ashrem held the lit stone aloft, and Ander stood beside him, leaning on his staff. Worm stood down the wet passageway, halfway around a corner. He had a halfling wrapped tightly around one leg. 

“Worm, you can’t just…” Ander began. 

“Can’t what?” said Worm. “Catch a running jackrabbit?” The half-orc laughed as he came fully into Theo’s view and slapped a limp body against the wall. “Now that,” he said, “is how it’s done! I’ve had more trouble tossing drunks at the Sword. One flying brick and, wham! He goes down faster than harlots at harvest.” Ashrem took a few steps toward the slumping figure. “He’s alive – my aim was off.  So what took you so long?” 

“Later.” Ander snarled. “Alright, I guess its time to wake him up. We need to find out what he knows.”  

“Let’s see what you’ve got, rabbit,” said Worm, grabbing the prisoner and dunking him head first into the sludge below. After the third dunk, the dangling man sputtered and groaned. The half-orc let him hang there a few moments, and then tossed the man toward the woodsman. The ranger didn’t bother catching the man, instead propelling him face first against the nearby wall. 

“I think,” Theo heard the woodsman hiss, “it’s time for you to answer some questions.” The cleric furrowed his brow, _He’ll not be that easy, lad._

The prisoner let out a chuckle and spit at the Ionian’s legs. “You’ll gets nothin’ and like it,” he said, staring brazenly at the young man. Ander cuffed him in retaliation and pinned him against the wall by his shoulders, but the captive just laughed in the woodsman’s face. _No lad, you need to outwit his sort. What you need is some sort of trickery._

Ashrem cut short the laughter by touching the point of his sword below the prisoner’s outstretched arm. For a moment, Theo saw a glimmer of fear in the captive’s eyes, but it disappeared as Ander continued his interrogation.

“Do you feel that, Rabbit? Is the blade cold on your skin?” The prisoner stood still as a stone. “That’s Razor. The Mistslayer’s blade. Have you heard of it? They say it can cut through armor like flesh.” Theo watched as the captive’s eyes darted nervously from one face to another. “Do I have your attention now? Good.”

Ander paused for a very quiet moment. “Let’s make this simple. I’m going to ask you ten questions, and you’re going to give me ten answers. If I think you’re lying to me, or if you refuse to answer, he,” he said with a nod toward the scout, “is going to start counting for you. Understand, rabbit?”  Ashrem punctuated the woodsman’s point by sliding his blade down the prisoner’s arm and grasping the captive’s wrist.

_Good, lads. Simple yet believable. This bluff might yet get us what we need._

“I druther be tippin’ a cup with a single finger than tattle to the likes o’ you.”

Theo heard Worm unsuccessfully stifle a laugh and glanced over at the hulking half-orc, who was hiding his mouth beneath a huge hand. The warrior leaned easily against the wall; the cleric couldn’t help but think he was, for some perverse reason, enjoying himself.

Theo turned back toward the interrogation just in time to see Ander stare daggers at Worm. The Ionian held his gaze for a moment, and turned his attention back toward the pinned man. “I don’t think you understand just how serious we are,” he began dangerously.

“Yer lookin’ for the girl, aren’t you?” A malicious grin spread slowly across the captive’s face. “You won’t find ‘er,” he chuckled.

“Tell me what you know!” the woodsman roared as he brought himself nose to nose with the knave. 

_Watch yourself lad. Keep things calm, or we’ll get nothing from him._

“I know yer in deep water,” said the prisoner, still using his mocking tone, “but I don’t think you need me t’point that out.”

“One word is all it takes, and you’ll have one less finger to point,” the ranger said through clenched teeth. Theo shifted uncomfortably, suddenly unsure if it was a threat or a statement of fact.

“Fat lot that’ll help,” said the knave smugly. “Anythin’ you can do t’me is a shadow of what they’d do.”

“Don’t be so sure!”

“You want answers? Here’s an answer even they’d be willin’ t’give. Yer late to the party, boy: the Wolves are on their way to the ogre-man’s right now, lookin’ fer a wizard-killer. He’ll be danglin’ from a tree by the time you get to ‘im, all fer helpin’ a darker like you!”

Ander’s hand snaked out and grabbed the prisoner’s throat. “If he dies…”

“But that’s not the best part of it,” gasped the captive. “Yer girly, the one you came lookin’ for. She’s gone!” Theo saw Ander’s hand tense, and the prisoner wheezed painfully. “Taken by things even they’re afraid of.” 

“You’re lying, and this is your last chance.”

“Face it, boy,” the captive spat in a whisper, “if she’s lucky, she’s already dead.”

Ander’s face looked as if it would burst into flame. _No, lad, don’t!_

“Ashrem,” growled the woodsman.

The blade made no sound, but the scream born of agony and surprise echoed in the priest’s ears.


----------



## Tamlyn

Woot! An update! A nice one at that. And I love the TOTD.

~Tam


----------



## dshai527

Thank You...Too bad you weren't at the funeral or at least people with a sense of humor. Just kidding it happened afterward and I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation and only heard the statement as to why you would have a person cremated. I lost points that day let me tell you.


----------



## Old One

Nice update...but I think someone needs to put more ranks in intimidate !

~ OO


----------



## dshai527

Old One said:
			
		

> Nice update...but I think someone needs to put more ranks in intimidate !
> 
> ~ OO




Wouldn't help as Enk would still take a heavy roleplaying negative for trying to act it out and nobody would buy it. I mean have you seen him...I do believe his son beat him up a few days ago.


----------



## Rel

Nothin' goes good with Thanksgiving leftovers like a nice prisoner execution!  Woot!


----------



## Tamlyn

Sorry if everyone thought this was an update. I just wanted to wish everyone Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc, etc, etc...

I hope everyone (posters and readers) and your families are doing well.

~Tam


----------



## dshai527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Sorry if everyone thought this was an update. I just wanted to wish everyone Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc, etc, etc...
> 
> I hope everyone (posters and readers) and your families are doing well.
> 
> ~Tam




We are all doing well and having a fun time...even though we have stopped gaming for a few weeks to enjoy the holidays..(How can you enjoy the holidays without gaming?). A new post was expected soon, but now Rel is making us take time to sew our Three Amigos outfits for GenCon next year, so it will be a bit behind.  

Actually a new post should be done just after the holidays and with luck a second story hour as well, showing off our new campaign ( a second campaign - the heroes are still riding high just on hiatus while Enk gets adjusted to two sweet potatoes). 

Til then Happy Holidays and Great Gaming Everyone.


----------



## Enkhidu

Heyo!

I'm currently trying to recover all the intros D'Shai and I put together for the posts we've lost due to the Big Crash.

Once I've got those ducks lined up in a row, I'll be reposting them on a regular schedule to mask our horrible backlog in order to whet your appetites.


----------



## Dawn

Good to know you're still out there!


----------



## Enkhidu

*Originally Posted Jan 24, 2006 - Hooray for Google cache!*

Well?

Well what?

Aren’t you going to say something?

About what?

About why we are late in posting.

Why? The doctor said the shampoo would take care of it.

Not that! By the way, it looks like it's working. The other thing.

Oh the other thing. No I don’t wanna talk about.

Why not? It’s awesome. Why won’t you talk about it?

I’m shy.

Your interpretive dance the other night at the theater says otherwise.

What? The film broke and the mob was getting angry. My starbursts were in jeopardy.

Look, just tell them.

Why don’t you? You worked on it just as much as I did.

Maybe, but it was your idea. 

No way I’m taking credit for that idea.

What? It’s a good idea. 

Then you claim it. 

No. You spawned it, you should get the credit. 

I can’t; its overhyped now and that always leads to failure.

It is not overhyped. Just tell them. 

I can’t. I’m scared. Look at them, like a pack of hungry dogs. Let’s just give them a post and be done with it. 

That’s the thing - I don’t think a post is enough right now. I think you need to tell them.

I can’t. Its time for my shampoo. 

At least give them a Tip of the Day.

Go Steelers!

Just push the button...


*****


Pack stumbled in the nearly waist high muck, grimacing as the dim light from one of Theo’s prayers showed yet another hand span of his fine silk cloak succumb to the filth. “This must be the worst adventure ever,” he grumbled to no one in particular. “We come to the greatest city in the world, find out one our best friends  is in trouble, almost get killed, and end up hip deep in…”

“What’s that Pack?” echoed Theo’s voice from ahead.

“Nothing,” said the bard.

“Some say thunder in the distance is nothing, too,” said the priest as he slowed his step. “Doesn’t stop them from getting wet. Want to talk about it?” 

“No,” the bard said reflexively as he came even with the cleric. Pack looked ahead a few dozen paces, to where Worm and Ander walked together in the torch-like glow of another of Theo’s light stones. The two hadn’t spoken since… it… happened. Pack could almost see the tension between them. 

“Do you think Grogger will be alright?” the halfling said after a while. 

Theo sighed, “I don’t know, Pack. I’m afraid he’s been caught in the same storm we all have. Weathering may prove tricky.”

The two walked in silence for a while longer. Pack watched their shadows pace menacingly along the slime covered walls. “If I could just find some dry ground, I think I can clean us all up. Hey Theo did I tell you I’ve been working on a new…” The bard let the question die on his lips as he glanced up at the priest. The cleric’s eyes were hard, yet sad. “This is our fault, isn’t it?” he said.

It took a moment for Theo to answer. “No, Pack,” he said softly, staring ahead at the two younger men, “but that doesn’t make it any less of a problem.” He paused for a moment, and then looked down at the halfling, “Hopefully we won’t have to wait much longer for news about him. I think we’re here.”

Pack peered ahead to see Ander looking up at a metal ladder set into the wall and Worm trudging back toward the stragglers. “The runt says this is the place,” said the half-orc, his gravely voice echoing throughout the tunnel. “Shouldn’t be long now. Then we can get topside and put an end to it.” 

Pack looked at his big-little brother and wrinkled his brow, “What do you mean put an end to it?”

“We’ll meet Grogger, crack some skulls, and get out of town.”

“But what if Grogger’s really in trouble? What if they’re… doing things to him to get him to talk?” Pack tried to bite back the words, but his tongue was too quick. 

“Even if what that rabbit said is true, do you really think that a few guardsmen would give that great old beast any problems? Ha! He’d show them his fangs and they’d have to go change their codpieces!”

“But that man said that it was the Wolves, Worm,” said Pack, “and that means that it’s the Iron Wolves.”

“The who?”

“The Iron Wolves. Don’t you remember what Sir Thaddeus said about them?” Pack straightened his back without realizing it, taking on the posture of the Icemist’s old storyteller. “The Iron Wolves began as a cadre of skirmishers during the demon wars, and were thrice decorated by the king for bravery and victory in the face of certain defeat; after the war they were elevated to royal duty. They are credited with over…”

“‘Royal duty,’” the half-orc guffawed as he started back toward the ladder with the stragglers in tow, “sounds like step-n’-fetch to me.”

“Not quite, lad” said Theo, “though I think we’d prefer it if it was. They’ve got writ to track and capture enemies of the crown; it looks like we’ve made their list.”

“What do you mean ‘we,’ old man?” asked Worm, just loud enough for Pack to know Ander could hear it. “We all know who’s fault this is.” Ahead, the bard saw Ander’s head sag and shake.

Ashrem’s voice echoed from above as he slid down the ladder, “You should know better than to lay blame, Worm.” He punctuated the remark with a splash as he hit the muck. “Attempting to hang the burden of our predicament on one pair of shoulders is approximately as sensible as saying that the sky is dark under the noon day sun. You knew there might be risks when you decided to accompany us, and I… suggest,” Pack thought he heard the hint of a growl in the scout’s voice, “that you choose your words more carefully in the future.”

Worm chuckled. Pack gulped at the sound of it. It was the same chuckle his adopted brother would laugh right before throwing someone through the door of the Shimmering Sword. “Ander, better tell your housecat to back down before I toss him like old dishwater.”

The woodsman stepped between them, facing Worm and giving him a glare. “Enough! Both of you!” He turned to Ashrem, and Pack imagined him saying “and that goes for you too!” Instead, the ranger paused and let silence settle. “Now,” he finally continued, “what did you find out, Ash?”

“There are indeed guardsmen at the manor of our half-ogre host. Most are openly armed and wear red and gold livery, a wolf’s head over an anvil.”

“That’s the Iron Wolves for sure,” whispered Pack.

Ander interrupted, “You said most. What about the others?”

“I believe that the liveried soldiers were simply a show of force. I spied seven less obvious agents dressed in more mundane clothing, and have the suspicion that more skulked in the alleyways. To a man, they looked competent, and their movements seemed practiced. If forced to guess, I would say that their scouts are easily my match. It will not take long for them to follow our trail to the shack.”

“What about Grogger?” asked Pack.

“I did not see him, and from the look of it they did not lay hands on him either: I did not see any injuries or property damage that would have resulted had they attempted to take him by force. We must assume that he is safe, for the time being.”

“Were you followed?” said Worm.

Ashrem gave the half-orc a look that Pack thought would melt wax. “No. I doubled back twice before slipping down to our rendezvous.”

“Then we need to move. Now.” Ander’s voice was flat and hollow; Pack found it disconcerting. “Theo, you’re the one who knows the city. Any ideas on where we can hole up?”

Theo frowned, as if reluctant to speak. “We can head for the Temple. There’s a set of tunnels that connect to the Temple cistern to the sewer. From there we can…”

“Can what?” scoffed Worm, “Clear Ander’s name?”

“No,” answered the woodsman, “Get you out of Tor.”

“Lad…”

“No arguments, Theo. Please. Not now. Just get us going in the right direction.”

“If you insist, lad. If you insist.”


----------



## Serenity

*De-Lurking*

WOW!  I just read both Small Beginnings threads and ...WOW.  Seriously guys, these are some great stories.  I really enjoyed them and I can't wait for the next update.  Now that I have found this thread, the only thing to do is keep hitting refresh until the next contest starts!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Well, Serenity, I've got good news and bad news.

Godd news is that, yes, we try to have a lot of fun with this story hour.
Also, being one of the players in the group on whose gaming sessions this
story hour is based, I can tell you the story is about to get even better!
(A LOT better!!!)

For the bad news... well, I'll just say you should look at the dates of the 
story posts and look at all the begging for new installments, and you can
see that the waits tend more to the long and frustrating.

But I absolutely don't want to scare you off!  Just letting you know we'll
test levels of patience you didn't know you had.  Welcome!  Join the fun!
We always enjoy new members to our online family. (More targets means
easier target practice)  And who knows, if Enkhidu stops trying to prove
that he actually has sex by knocking up the old lady, we might get the 
good stuff to you much more frequently. (Enk still doesn't realize that the
babies are only proof that his WIFE is having sex!  But sssssh, don't tell him!)


----------



## Serenity

Well Bubba,

No worries.  After a tour in the Marine Corps, I don't scare off too easily.  As for the long wait time... again with the no worries.  I don't have anything better to do when I am supposed to be working <refresh>.  So I'll just keep <refresh> checking in and looking <refresh> for more updates. <refresh>
<refresh>
<refresh>
Aarrrgh!  Gosh darn computer must be broken, it's not refreshing and showing me the new update that I know must be out there.  Doh!

Also, thanks for the added stress Bubba.  My wife is 10 weeks pregnant with our second child and until your post, I was sure it was mine... Enk hasn't been in central florida recently has he... say about 10 weeks ago? Aarrrgh!?!??


----------



## Enkhidu

Serenity said:
			
		

> ... Enk hasn't been in central florida recently has he... say about 10 weeks ago? Aarrrgh!?!??




Not that youuuuuuu knoooooooow!

So here's a repost of an update that got lost in the shuffle a few weeks back. It was originally posted on March somethingorother, and it had no (gasp!) intro.


*****

Clean booted halfling feet bounced against half-orc pectorals as Worm hoisted Pack onto his shoulders. “Thanks, Worm,” said the bard, “You want me to clean you up too?” 

“Nah, Pack, I’ll probably just get dirty again. But that’s a handy little trick you got there, little-big brother. Probably would have come in handy when Ma was on one of her cleaning fits.”

“That’s what I thought!” said Pack as he made brushing motions in the dimly lit air, sending mud and muck away from his adopted brother anyway. Soon Theo’s light stone, now wound in a bit of string and dangling from the halfling’s neck, showed span after span of clean half-orc. “When we get home we’ll never have to worry about chores again!”

“Well, when you find one that can hoist an ale barrel and toss a drunk…” 

“Oh, I didn’t think about that, Worm. I tell you what, when we get back I’ll start working on it right away.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean maybe? I said I’d get right on it. Don’t you believe me?”

“That’s not what I meant, Pack.”

“Well, what did you mean?”

The half-orc slowed his step, “I don’t know if I’m going home, Pack.”

“What?” Pack yelled, nearly falling form his perch.

“Something going on back here?” rumbled Theo from up ahead as he sloshed toward the brothers. “You two need any help?”

Pack hesitated for a moment. “No. I thought I saw something.” Under his breath, just loud enough for his steed to hear, he added “We’re not done talking about this, Worm.”

“Ah,” said Theo as he joined the pair. “I guess that will happen down here.”

“I can see that,” replied Pack quickly. “This place is spooky. How did you ever find out about these tunnels, anyway, Theo? And just why would a temple of Zuras have a sneaky back way into the sewers, anyway? That just seems strange, And icky. Sticky! That what it seems, sti…”

“It’s not that strange Pack,” said Worm. “Probably a way to get things in and out without having to pay taxes.”

Theo frowned in the pale light. “No, Worm. It’s not so the Temple can avoid paying taxes. And while we’re on the subject, it wasn’t built for smuggling people, either.”

“That’s what we’re using it for,” snickered the half-orc. Pack stifled a giggle of his own.

“Yes, that’s what we’re using it for,” grumbled Theo. Suddenly, Pack was struck with the thought that the priest looked very tired. The halfling gave his brother a gentle nudge to the jaw with his knee that stopped the warrior’s laughter.

“Theo?” said the bard, “If the tunnels aren’t for that, what are they for?”

The priest sighed, “That’s a bit of a tale, Pack,” he said. “And this isn’t the time to tell it, lad.”

“But, Theo…”

“The short version is that it was built a long time ago in order to break a siege, but almost ended up destroying Tor in the Wars.”

“I don’t understand,” said Pack.

“The demons found it. I don’t know how, but they did.” Pack could see the old cleric shudder in the light. “The fighting down here was terrible. But in the end they were driven back and out, and their entryway was sealed with both mortar and magic. Wasn’t long afterward that they started filling the tunnels in and barring them off. The ones they couldn’t collapse they trapped. A few nobles even suggested putting monstrous beasts down here to hunt down demons that might have gotten away.”

“That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard,” scoffed Worm.

“Everyone else thought so too, lad. But when you’re wealthy enough, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad as a wolf on the full moon, people will listen to you anyway. Luckily other, richer, voices prevailed, and instead of letting a pack of monsters loose in the sewers, they just decided to flood them instead.”

“Flood them? How?”

“All these old tunnels are cut below the riverbed. The sappers found that out the hard way after the Demon Wars, when they were trying to collapse a section. Caused a big stink at the time: literally. The sewers overflowed for a week straight. So the city capped the breach with a seal; one that would keep the river in its bed, but let them flood the tunnels if they needed to. They even built two more, just in case the first one didn’t work.”

Pack let out a low whistle. “If we have time, do you think we could see them?”

“We’re not headed in that direction, lad. If things were different…” The old priest let his voice trail away. 

“But then why is this one open?” asked Pack from atop his perch.

“What?”

“You said that they blocked up all the tunnels, or trapped them, or set them to flood. So why is this one still clear?

“Because the city didn’t find it, and the Bishop decided that it would be best to keep at least one of the old ways open, for emergencies.”

“I guess this counts as an emergency,” said the bard. “I mean, us being in trouble and all. Will your father-in-law be upset about us using it?”

“Probably. The Bishop doesn’t much care for those not of the faithful,” he answered, adding, “Not that he cares for the faithful all that much either,” under his breath. Pack didn’t think the comment was meant for anyone else’s ears. “But once we explain things to him, I think he’ll do what’s right. He’s an honorable enough man, in his own way.”

Pack wiggled in his seat atop his brother’s shoulders, trying to work the muscles in his leg that he suddenly realized had fallen asleep. “Why do you do that, Theo?”

“Do what?”

“Call your father-in-law the Bishop. Isn’t that a little formal? Or is that one of those priest rules or something?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, Pack…”

“It just seems like you wouldn’t want to call someone you’re related to by a title, is all. Don’t you think so, Worm?”

“Pack,” grumbled Worm, “just let it drop. He said he didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I better get back to the other two,” said Theo, abruptly. “We’ll be coming to a crossway soon, and I need to go give more directions to Ashrem and Ander.” With that, the cleric trudged ahead quickly, shaking his head and muttering indistinctly.

“But I thought that they already knew the way,” said Pack to no one in particular. He continued in a quieter voice. “What’s wrong with him? Did I say something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.”

“I should go apologize.”

“You want me to put you down?”

“No. It’s comfy up here. It’d probably just make him mad anyway.”

“Nah. I don’t think he’s mad at you. Sounds like he just doesn’t like the Bishop, is all.”

“Oh.” Pack fidgeted atop his brother’s shoulders some more. His leg had fallen asleep again. “Worm, what did you mean when you weren’t coming home?”

Worm let out a long breath. “I don’t know, Pack,” he started quietly. “I like Icemist, but Tor? Tor is… Tor is like all those stories you used to make me listen to over and over when we were growing up. Except Tor is real. I think I’d have already tried to figure out how to live here if it hadn’t been for that stupid Ionian.” Pack sat silently, unwilling to defend the woodsman, while Worm continued to stew. “He’s a stupid, stupid coward. He kills a man and then runs off, and then prances around like he’s some big hero! And then he whines about finding his stupid sweetheart who’s probably not really in trouble at all, and drags you off on some stupid chase across the kingdom…”

“Stop it, Worm!” said the halfling, his voice echoing throughout the tunnel. He lowered his voice to a sharp whisper. “Aurora is my friend, and I was as worried about her as anyone else. I decided to come on this chase. No one talked me into it. So don’t start trying to blame anyone else for my being here.”

“Pack, if you keep following him he’s going to get you hurt, or maybe even killed.”

“Hells, Worm! Last fall I thought I was going to die. You can’t always try and protect me, big-little brother. Believe it or not, sometimes I can actually protect myself.” Pack let the words hang in the air as they moved. The half-orc stepped up the pace, as his heavy feet slapped the wet stone of the tunnel floor. A glance ahead showed the others move straight across an intersection of tunnels; the crossing tunnel was thinner, and looked to be partially collapsed. “That must be the crossway Theo was talking about. You think we’ll be there soon?”

Worm didn’t answer. The bard tried again. “Do you think we’ll be there soon?” Again, his answer was silence. 

_So that’s the way it’s going to be_. “Maybe you better put me down, Worm.”

The half-orc roughly lifted the halfling off his shoulders and let him slip to the ground. Then without a word, he trudged off after the feloine, the priest, and the Ionian, leaving Pack jogging to catch up. _He’s going to be mad for days, the way he’s going on about it. It’s serve him right if he fell flat on his big, fat…_

Out of the corner of his eye, Pack saw a hint of reddish glow from on of the side tunnels. “Worm?” he said, as the light grew brighter. His brother grunted a not reply. As if in answer, the tunnel spat out a ball of feathery fur that tackled the half-orc.  

“WORM!”

*****


----------



## Serenity

Nice update.  IhavetosaythatatthispointPackismyfavoritecharacter.  Wow, that was actually difficult to type.  Thanks for the cliffhanger...
... and stay away from my wife!!


----------



## Bubbalicious

*Enk's a GIRL!!!*

Hey Enk, you writing anything new or are you just stalling with a "Greatest Hits album"?


----------



## Tamlyn

*???*

Hello... Hello... Hello...

Anyone... Anyone... Anyone...


----------



## dshai527

This is not the post you were looking for.   

Actually we are still working on the current installment. Things have just not gone our way lately. Enk is working two jobs but only getting paid for one - not to mention two kids and I am just lazy. We hope to have something up soon. Till then Bubbalicious will entertain you with songs of lore.


----------



## Bubbalicious

*Songs of lore*

(Sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy)
There once was a halfling from Nantucket
Who thought that sex came in a bucket
He commited a sin
Fell in love with some twins
And was taught how to seriously...

Hey wait, that doesn't fit to Yankee Doodle Dandy!
I'm going to have to "retool" this one!


----------



## Enkhidu

Well, since D'Shai's a big slacker (he's currently out of town, but even when he's here he's still a big slacker) I figured I'd let slip a quick half-post. The other half should be up shortly, after Bozo the clown gets back.

On the flip side, even though the story hour is increasingly behind the current campaign, that will soon be over. Mainly because the campaign is getting near the end game. You know how it goes - fighting the BEBG (That's Big Evil Bad Guy; I never understood how anyone could ever say BBEG and be coherent - that would be like saying "drow" doesn't rhyme with "cow" (the kind that goes "moo)), shaking the pillars of heaven, all kinds of stuff.

Who knows, if you're good and eat all of your vegetables Fett might even post the stat block of the current campaign over in that _other_ thread.

Anyway, here's your appetizer!

*****


_Turn and twist, turn and..._ “Oof!” _That’s a cracked rib._

The red-limned beast had taken Worm off his feet, and snapped at the warrior’s shoulder with a beak-like snout. _What in the hells is this thing?_  The beast clamped down on the half-orc’s shoulder and ripped a cry of pain from his lips. _Think later. Fight now!_

_Twist left, pull it down, and… _Worm’s right hand shot out like a hook, searching for the beast’s windpipe in the hopes of ending the grapple early. Instead the warrior’s fingers found a leather collar, which he yanked backward violently, breaking the beast’s hold on his shoulder and causing it to rear back. With his other hand, he grabbed for a handful of fur, but came away with a thick handful of feathers, _feathers? What the, _instead. The distraction nearly cost him, as the beast threw itself back down over the half-orc.

This time Worm was ready. He pulled the beast’s collar - now the obvious source of the red-tinged light - as he rolled to the side and the beast crashed to the ground with a thud and a yelp that was as much screech as roar. _That’s it, use the big bastard’s strength against it. It’s slow and it’s stu…_ The beast recovered quickly. Too quickly. 

In a heartbeat the beast had shifted its weight, leaving two claws free to bat at the warrior, striking him soundly and drawing him close. “Noooooo!” Worm yelled angrily as he was drug into the bear hug. 

He felt another rib crack in the beast’s embrace, and grunted in pain. Without looking up he yanked back on the collar again and was rewarded by not having his head ripped open by a toothy beak. _Too strong. Stronger than me. Yank. Shift. Punch._ Worm snaked a hand free and with it he gave the beast a clout on the ear, eliciting another screech. It did not loosen its hold. “Run, Pack!” he gasped.

“No, Worm! Ashrem and Ander are here to help!” 

The half-orc let fly another fist, this time connecting to the beast’s throat, right below its beak. _I’ll be damned if I let that lying sack save me._ With a grunt, he pushed against the creature’s bulk and tucked his legs beneath it. _Just like last fall: ready, ready, go!_ Using the makeshift leash, he pulled the beast’s beak down and into the ground while heaving upward with his legs. 

For an instant, Worm saw superimposed over the beast the form of the barbarian he had beaten at Festival with the same move. But the man did not have claws with which to leave gaping slashes across the half-orc’s sides, or a razor sharp hook of a beak with which to latch on to the warrior’s shoulder. When the beast crashed to the ground, Worm went with it. _At least I’m on top._

Out of the corner of his eye, over the head of the owl-headed bear whose beak was buried in the meat of the half-orc’s shoulder, Worm saw Ashrem and the woodsman bolting toward the fight. Out of the other corner, he saw Pack holding a dagger, looking for a place to strike. “Told you… to go, Pack” he panted as he pushed a thumb into the beast’s eye. The creature let loose the shoulder and screeched, but hugged Worm more tightly than ever.

_Not going to beat it._ He twisted the beast’s head around, expecting the body to turn with the head. The head turned all the way around, biting at Worm’s upper arm. Not without a weapon. A jab of his elbow spun the head back the other way. _No time for a knife. Or a rock. Just like back with Abel._

_Abel!_ 

“Ashrem!” he bellowed, “get ready to kill this thing!” Ready, ready, NOW! Worm rolled onto his back, pulling the beast with him. 

The slaughter was over seconds later. It wasn’t until the beast shuddered and let out a last feeble squawk that Worm let go of the collar and let its head fall to the side. 

The half-orc looked around: Pack squatted near his head with a worried look on his face, while Ashrem wiped his blades on the creature’s feathers. Theo huffed and puffed his way to the warrior’s side, and immediately began saying a prayer, placing a pair of healing hands on Worm’s shoulder. Ander stood to one side, with a look that Worm didn’t care to try and place.

“Well,” said Worm to the woodsman, “You going to do something useful and get this thing off of me?”

“Sorry,” answered the Ionian, slipping his staff into place and levering the dead creature off of the half-orc. “I thought I saw a set of tracks heading down that…”

“Ander,” interrupted Ashrem, “I think I have just scented Aurora.”


----------



## Rel

Nice!  You don't see a lot of that old-school Owl Bear lovin' anymore.

Say, while we're totally not on the subject, which of you guys are going to be at GenCon?  I want to make sure I get time to meet all that are coming.


----------



## Enkhidu

You should already know by know that Fett will be there most of the Con - I think he signed up for one of your games.

I'll be out with Mrs. Enk for a day trip on Saturday (and be staying overnight til Sunday morning) - aside from a dinner we're hitting that evening, I've got absolutely no agenda other than to not spend much time in the dealers' room (because while the fleshing is willing, the budget is weak!). Well, that and my wife has informed me that we are heading over to the GenCon dance for a bit that night.

From the sound of it, D'Shai won't end up making it, but I think Bubbalicious was going to try and day trip it at least one day.

So now you know (and knowing is half the battle!) GI-Jooooooooooe, the great american hero. GI-Joe is the-e-ere...

Aw skip it.


----------



## fett527

People should check the Rogue's Gallery.  There is statblock goodness there.

Link in sig.


----------



## Tamlyn

[patiently hitting Refresh every 15 seconds in hopes of an update]

Just thought you'd like to know.

Actually, just want to make sure everyone's still out there and doing well.


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Actually, just want to make sure everyone's still out there and doing well.




I'm SWELL!  Thanks for asking!

EDIT:  Except for the horrid misery in which I wallow, directly attributable to Enk not coming to AT LEAST say hi to me at GenCon.  How I can be pulled from this state of utter despair I do not know, but I'm sure that a poem called "99 Reasons I Love Rel" would go a long way to repairing the damage.


----------



## Enkhidu

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> [patiently hitting Refresh every 15 seconds in hopes of an update]
> 
> Just thought you'd like to know.
> 
> Actually, just want to make sure everyone's still out there and doing well.




I bought a house!

Is that 'nuff said?

In other news, I have Word open in another window, and guess what's open?


----------



## Dungannon

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> In other news, I have Word open in another window, and guess what's open?



Your list of favorite Paris Hilton quotes?


----------



## Enkhidu

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Your list of favorite Paris Hilton quotes?




Paris Hilton? Yes. Quotes? No.


----------



## fett527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Your list of favorite Paris Hilton quotes?



More like his list of showtune favorites.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> I'm SWELL!  Thanks for asking!



You're supposed to give Enk crap for not coming over to the Hyatt to say hi on Sunday of GEnCon weekend before leaving.  He deserves it.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> You're supposed to give Enk crap for not coming over to the Hyatt to say hi on Sunday of GEnCon weekend before leaving.  He deserves it.




You're right.  I'll edit my post above.


----------



## Enkhidu

I just sent a 3000 word first draft of the next post to D'Shai, and boy are my arms tired.

Wait...


----------



## Aurora

Woohoo I can post! 

Waiting for that update......


----------



## Dawn

Yes, more update goodness please!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

1)  He grills a mean steak.
2)  He promised to send us money when he's rich and famous.
3)  If he was DM, he would let Enk start over at 3rd level each time we reached 12th level so that he would never have to experience high level gaming.
4)  He distracts Fett so we don't have to write all the time.
5)  He would game with us if he didn't live so far away.

What in the name of the Cow God are you doing?

I’m making a list.

6)  He would pick us up from soccer practice if we played.
7)  He spellz better than we do;
8)  and his grammer is more better two.
9)  He doesn't always smell of fish.
10) He doesn't touch our dice.

That’s the strangest looking grocery list I’ve ever seen.

That’s no grocery list. It’s a space station!

Riiiiight.

OK, you got me. It’s a list of reasons we like Rel.

I think I liked it better when it was a grocery list.

11)   He never takes the last Chocolate Twizzler.
12)   He doesn't touch the inside of our glass while it still have beverage in it.
13)   He's always up for a Star Crunch ninja-star fight.
14)   He always wears pants at the gaming table.
15)   He would never make lewd comments about our dating our Mom if she divorced our father, even if we didn't have to call him Dad.

What’s sad is that you actually had to put that on the list.

Hey, that lady was MILF material if I ever saw it.

Alright, finish up with the last five so we can get one with it.

Five? Now way. Our percentile dice never have enough to do, so we’ve got another 85 before we’re done.

You do know we’re not going to get through all that before I have to head home for dinner, right?

I’ve got Pizza Rolls.

Oooh! Pizza R… wait a minute, these are a knock-off brand.

They’re still good.

And they’re not even pizza rolls – they’re those nasty cheeseburger eggroll things.

They’re better than they sound.

And they expired 14 months ago. And why do they have “Break bag in case of Enk” written on them?

Well would you look at that. Look at the time. Too bad you have to be going now.

What about your list?

I guess we’ll just have to let the readers finish it. Buh-bye, now!

Hey, I gave these to you last fall!

Would you like a brownie Enk?

Ooooh! Brownies!

Tip of the Day: Brownie mix found in a 10 year old storage locker is only suitable when baking for friends.


*****

“Worm, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Pack’s voice carried over the still waters of the underground lake, leaving Theo with the uncomfortable feeling that if he could hear the brothers’ disagreement, others could as well.

“Yes it is. You’ve taken his side, just like always.”

“What do you mean ‘just like always?’ That’s the most foolishest thing I’ve ever heard. And that’s…”

“Pack, it’s not like I think he actually killed all those wizards. Even if I was dumb enough to think he could be in two places at once, he’d be no match for them – you’ve seen him fight. But this whole thing reeks of that stinking Ionian’s fate catching up to him, and we’re getting caught in the middle.”

“Things don’t work that way, Worm. The stories always say…”

“Hells, Pack! We’re not in some bard’s tale!”

Theo looked back over his shoulder toward the woodsman and the scout on the far shore, their forms bathed in the orange light of a brace of newly lit torches. If they heard the half-orc’s outburst, they didn’t show it. _Time to put an end to this ruckus_. “Lads!” he called, more loudly than he intended; he heard the flapping of a score of wings above him in the blackness. “Help me get this boat ashore. I need to stretch before I paddle us back.”

Worm waded out into the dark water to meet the priest. “So what’s the word, Theo?” The bear-owl’s glowing collar, now wrapped around one of the warrior’s beefy biceps, gave the brawny young half-orc a menacing red aura. He had taken it as a trophy for ‘doing all the hard work’ in killing the beast. He had also attempted to take the thing’s head, but Ashrem dismissed the idea out of hand, not parting with Razor long enough for the half-orc to accomplish the grisly job.

“There’s a temple.”

“What kind?” asked Pack from the shore. “Is it big? Old? Oh, I know! I bet it’s got gargoyles all over it, just like in…”

“Not quite,” said Theo as he stepped carefully out of the boat, “though it looked like it was covered with all sorts of stone carvings and reliefs. Ander is hoping you might be able to place some of them to give us a better idea of what we are facing before we enter.”

“Bah!” said the half-orc. “What’s there to know? Either the girl is in there or she’s not. Either way, if something nasty is in there we put it down for the Long Winter.”

“It might not be that easy, lad,” said Theo as he stretched his legs. _And you should know better after that trap you set loose in that shack_. “There’s something here I don’t trust. Something that my bones tell me can’t be fought with steel and sinew. Hopefully Pack will be able to tell us.”

“What about Aurora,” asked Pack as he clambered over the side of the boat, “any sign of her?”

“Ashrem caught her smell again right after we hit the shore. She went in the temple. Ander and he think there were a group of them, but Ashrem couldn’t place the scent of the others.” 

“That doesn’t make sense. Ashrem always knows what things smell like. Even when we fought those monsters last fall he…”

“I know lad,” said the cleric as he stepped aboard the little boat again. “But he’s been tight lipped about it. Better get aboard now, Worm. There’s no telling how deep this water gets.”

“Good call,” answered the half-orc as he pushed the boat off the shore and hoisted himself in with a smooth motion. The warrior took up nearly the whole of the craft. “Huh,” he said, “I guess Stupid was right after all. We’d have never all made it in one trip.”

“Who?” asked Theo.

“You know, Dung for Brains,” he said as he took the paddle from the older man and started paddling with long and very effective strokes. “The scrawny southerner with the twig who’s going to get us all killed.”

“Can’t you talk about anything else?” cried Pack, throwing his arms up in the air. “It’s like you’re one of those birds that we saw three Festivals ago, repeating the same thing over and over.” Pack lowered his voice and stuck out his chest, bobbing his head back and forth as he continued, “’Ander is stupid. Ander’s a bad person. Ander’s a…’”

“Don’t make me give you a swimming lesson, Pack.”

“Quiet, both of you!” grumbled Theo. “Now’s not the time to be biting at each other’s backs. Your mother raised the two of you better than that.”

“Sorry, Theo,” said Pack quietly while Worm avoided the priest’s eyes. 

The cleric shook his head and sighed, “You two squawk at each other like a pair of old stormcrows.”

“We get the idea, Theo,” grumbled Worm, “you don’t have to play the harpy.”

“Let’s just get to shore,” said Pack, “I’m getting anxious to see this temple you were talking about.”

With that, the trio settled into restless silence, broken only by the rhythmic splash of a paddle in water.


***


The distinctive sound of Theo’s voice carried over the water. _Whatever they’re arguing about I wish they’d just finish it. This is ridiculous_, thought Ander. “Anything new over there, Ash?”

“These tracks make little sense, Ander. I count no fewer than two-score left feet, yet only a third as many right. Worse, Aurora’s is the only distinct scent.” The scout gave a throaty harrumph, “It is, in a word, baffling. It is also very frustrating.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if it was on purpose. It’s an old trick for masking numbers.”

“Explain.”

“Well, take rabbits for example. Back home, there’s a hare that circles trees and then retraces its steps. Plays all kinds of havoc on the hounds tracking them. One time I saw a pair of hounds bay at an empty tree for an entire afternoon thinking a hare was in the roots.”

“Hmm. You believe this trail was laid purposefully to misdirect us?" 

“Maybe not us, but definitely someone,” Ander shifted in his crouch and ran a finger over a footprint. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing, too. Only a handful of people would have recognized Aurora’s tracks. See this dragline here? She fidgets when she’s nervous…” The Ionian let the statement fade. _That’s a lie. She does it when she’s scared. I swear, if those double-damned bastards have hurt her…_

“Skill like this is often accompanied by prowess.”

“True. The man who taught me the trade used to say, “Tough trails lead to tougher prey.”

“You are starting to sound like Brother Theobald.”

“I wish. That old man’s as solid as a rock. I’m just fighting the urge to bay at an empty hare’s nest. What’s taking him so long, anyway?”

The scout peered into the darkness. “He should be returning shortly, along with Pack, and Worm. Ander, I don’t think it wise to allow him to continue to…”

“Not now, Ash,” Ander said with a sigh. “Just, not now.”

“You will eventually have to address the issue. His insubordination has already become…”

“This isn’t an army, Ash,” Ander barked angrily, “and last time I knew you didn’t care too much for following rules yourself.” The woodsman watched as his friend slowly turned his back and walked toward the entrance of the temple.

“I pay the price for that every day, _Andru Pindanon_,” hissed the feloine, “and you would do well to remember it.”

_Hells_. “I’m sorry, Ash, that was low. Especially with what Brandimere…” He could not bring himself to complete the thought. “I’m sorry.”

The scout never stopped moving. “Learn from my mistake, Ander. Loyalty to one’s leader is a shield in times of need, for both the leader and the led. Take it up, before it is too late, and defend it, for it may one day save our lives.”

_Now who sounds like Theo_. 


***


Ander paced impatiently in front of the stone doors while halfing and feloine examined the entryway. Pack occasionally extended a hand only to have the scout clamp down on his small wrist, but the work proceeded quickly despite the bard’s curiosity. “What do you make of it, Pack?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, well, it’s old, Ander, and looks like it took a lifetime to carve these scenes in the stone. And it’s sort of icky, what with all the slimey mold and fungus. And if you look over here you can see this whole sea god motif. It even has mermaids with naked…”

“Can you get me to the other side?” Ander’s voice sounded strained, even to himself. 

“What?”

“I believe that Ander is not making himself clear,” said Ashrem, looking askance at the woodsman with what looked like worry. “I have found several places that look as if they are, or perhaps were, traps meant to trigger when this doorway is opened. Worse, these doors have a noticeable lack of handles, and the doors themselves seem to swing outward. Ander and I had hoped you could shed some light on the matter, as these symbols and figures are not familiar to either of us.”

“Oh! I get it, now. Let me see…” Pack stepped back and forth, following the carvings of the temple, talking absentmindedly all the while. “If this place is as old as I think it is, that one with the mountain on his shoulders is probably Atta the Strong, which makes this Ulmo of the Deep Waters.”

“I’ve heard those names before.” said Worm, seemingly interested for the first time.

“They’re from that song Mother made us learn for her birthday four summers ago.”

Worm groaned, “_Maiden’s Kiss_? You have to be kidding.”

“No, really! I had one of the minstrels at Festival that fall tell me where it came from. She said it was very old, from when the gods had different names.”

“So that guy with the fourteen arms is Apis-Hai? Does that mean that the Maiden is the girl with the big…”

“It seems so,” interrupted Theo. Ander could hear the disapproval in his rumbling voice. “And it’s not polite to talk with your hands like that.”

“What? It’s my fault that the gods were overly generous to the girl?”

“Hey! Look! In the song, Apis-Hai swoops down and captures the Maiden in his chariot, and see?” Pack pushed the fourteen-armed idol along a hidden track down to the more buxom relief. “It moves! This is great! I wonder what else moves on this thing.”

“Wait,” said Ashrem, moving in front of the bard, “This Apis-Hai’s path had left a handhold. With some time, I think I might be able to…”

“No,” said Ander. “No more waiting. Worm, can you open it?”

“I ought to make you open it yourself,” said Worm as he brushed past both Ashrem and Pack and laid two hands on the stone. “It’s your girlfriend in there.”

“Just open it!”

The half-orc grunted as he pulled. “One of these days, runt, we’re going to have a talk,” he said it through clenched teeth, and heaved backward, “about who’s in charge here!” Then something snapped deep in the stone and the door ground and groaned its way open. A cloud of dust billowed out, fanned by an unknown source, and Ander heard several twangs, clicks, and whirrs from within. The woodsman rushed in without hesitation.

“Aurora!” he called, only to breathe in a chest full of the ashy dust and cough uncontrollably. He slipped the edge of his cloak over his face and examined the room through teary eyes. 

The dust had already begun to settle over the long benches that lined either side of the temple. At their head, an old stone pulpit lay on its side, torn from the elevated mooring on the back wall. In front of it, a red liquid had spread across the floor.

Even from a distance, Ander could see the blood was still wet.

“Blech! What is that smell?” said Pack from behind the woodsman.

“That, Pack, is the stench of a demon,” answered Ashrem; “the only sort of demon that could be described as tolerable.”  Ander glanced over toward the scout. The feloine’s blades were already drawn, and Ander nodded approvingly.

“A dead one,” said Theo. His voice left no doubt as to whether or not it was a question.

“Check it out,” said Ander as he made straight for the scarlet stain. _Please be alright, please be alright, please be…_ He crouched as he approached the patch and put a finger to it. It was still tacky to the touch. _Can’t be older than this morning_. “Ash, come up here when you get free.”

“Certainly,” said Ashrem from directly behind the ranger, continuing quickly enough that the Ionian wondered if everyone could read him as well as his friend. “It is not hers,” he said quietly.

The woodsman let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” The scout laid a hand on Ander’s shoulder. “I believe that when she left here, she was alive.”

“I’ve got to find her, Ash.”

“We will.”

“Where’s the bodies?” Worm’s voice came from the center of the aisle.

“What’s that, lad?” rumbled Theo.

“Where’s the bodies? Two of these long seats have broken backs, there’s scorch marks on three others,  and I see at least six different gouges that look to have come from a deflected sword or axe. Whatever it was, it was strong, too – this wood is thick.” The young warrior patted the cracked lumber, “I’d like to see whatever could do this.”

“Hey, look what I found!” said Pack. Ander stood and strode toward the halfling, whose feet were dangling out from underneath one of the benches. “Eww! This stinks.” The ranger was the last to arrive to the small circle around the bard. “And it’s all slimy and gritty. And why do I feel lightheaded all of the sudden?” 

Theo and Ashrem moved as one to take the halfling by the legs, yanking him from underneath the bench. Pack was still clutching his prize: a long, semi-feathered forearm and hand. The talons on the six fingers would have made an eagle proud. “That’s the source of the stink, lad. Drop it now, before you breathe too much of the reek.”

“This is a demon arm, isn’t it?” asked Ander as he turned back toward the stain on the floor, giving only half an ear to the ongoing conversation behind him.

“It is,” Ashrem answered, pausing only to take the limb from Pack’s hands and toss it away. “I would advise that you cleanse your hands and face on our way away form this place.” 

“Why?”

“Because the stuff will kill you if you let it, lad. I saw enough good men die on the field from the Dust to know.” The woodsman passed by the tacky pool and began sifting through the rubble of the pulpit looking for tracks.

“But what’s the Dust?” As the ranger approached the space between the wall and the pile of broken stone, he noticed an equally broken archway set in the blank wall. Its interior was likewise blank. The keystone was Apis-Hai, with seven arms holding a spear on one side. The other had been destroyed, but a real spear had been set in its place and loosely tied to the arch.

“It is the foulness left by demons as they decay,” said Ashrem. “This sort, the detritus left by the Vrock, is the worst.”

“I wonder if it’s magic?” said Pack in a sing-song voice that quickly turned to humming. The hum became a shout when Ander reached for the spear in front of him. “Ander! Don’t touch it! It’s a portal!”

Ander jerked his hand back as if the spear was a viper. “A what?” He heard Theo mutter a quick prayer behind him.

“Thunder, but the lad’s right. I haven’t seen anything like it since the Night of Five Doors. Someone used the spear as a power source for it. I didn’t think anything like that was possible, but there it is.”

“And there that is, too!” cried Pack, rushing toward the wall. “See that discoloration there! That’s what’s left of one of Aurora’s missles! I can see her melodies all over it!”

“So she’s alive?” said Ander. “Quick, can you get us through this portal? We might still be able to catch her!”

“I’m afraid not, lad,” said Theo with a shake of his head. “Even if we could find the right magical conduit for it, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Blood and bones!” shouted the woodsman, slamming his staff into a nearby statue, knocking it to the ground with a clattering thump. _I’m so close. I’M SO CLOSE!_ 

Suddenly Theo was at his side, his hand on his shoulder. Ander could feel the tingles in the iron grip. “We know she’s alive, lad. There’s no way that a warband able to fight and kill a vrock, without losing a man would leave her if they went to all the trouble of taking her in the first place.” The cleric’s grip loosened, and the woodsman felt a tug on his pant leg.

“Why don’t we head back to Theo’s temple, like we planned,” said Pack. “Getting back to where we can see the sky will do us all a lot of good.”

Ander nodded numbly, and headed for the door.


----------



## Jon Potter

Thanks for the update, guys! I really like the dynamic between each and every one of the characters. Really great stuff!



			
				Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> I guess we’ll just have to let the readers finish it.




Okay. Let's see...

16) Whenever I've played in one of his games, he's never killed my character.

How's that?


----------



## Dungannon

17: He has impressive pumpkins.


----------



## Rel

14) He always wears pants at the gaming table. 

I think that puts us back on 16. 

Impressive update as usual.  In case I haven't said it before, one of the things you guys totally excell at is injecting story and characterization into scenes that I've seen some Story Hour authors (myself most definately included) gloss over in one small paragraph.  Bravo as usual and I hope you gain a bit of momentum and post more updates soon.  It's always a pleasure to read.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> 14) He always wears pants at the gaming table.
> 
> I think that puts us back on 16.
> 
> Impressive update as usual.  In case I haven't said it before, one of the things you guys totally excell at is injecting story and characterization into scenes that I've seen some Story Hour authors (myself most definately included) gloss over in one small paragraph.  Bravo as usual and I hope you gain a bit of momentum and post more updates soon.  It's always a pleasure to read.



Bought time slacker.


----------



## Fat Daddy

*Sweet*

Ahhhh.  Finally got my update.  Thanks!  I have to agree, that I love the party dynamics.  There is just enough interpersonal tension to keep it interesting without it detracting from the story.  Out of curiosity, is that how it plays out at the table as well?  Or is there a certain amount of 'artistic license' in the character interactions?

I love this story hour.  As my (soon to be) 2 year old daughter says, "mo pease"


----------



## Aurora

Fat Daddy said:
			
		

> Ahhhh.  Finally got my update.  Thanks!  I have to agree, that I love the party dynamics.  There is just enough interpersonal tension to keep it interesting without it detracting from the story.  Out of curiosity, is that how it plays out at the table as well?  Or is there a certain amount of 'artistic license' in the character interactions?
> 
> I love this story hour.  As my (soon to be) 2 year old daughter says, "mo pease"




There is a certain amount of artistic license used. We do a lot of conversing at the table, but they tweak some things to help move the story along smoothly. Although, I have yet to see them write something that doesn't fit with the character.


----------



## Tamlyn

Ahh, an update! Excellent as always. Thanks!

Wish I could contribute to the "Rel List" but I've only known him through the message boards and others' stories from Gencon. Alas, I've never had the...um...honor(?).

And welcome back, Aurora!

~Tam


----------



## Enkhidu

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> ...Wish I could contribute to the "Rel List" but I've only known him through the message boards and others' stories from Gencon. Alas, I've never had the...um...honor(?)...




Psst! D'Shai and I have neve met Rel either.


----------



## Aurora

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Psst! D'Shai and I have neve met Rel either.




Well, _I heard _ that you _could_  have met Rel......


----------



## Rel

Aurora said:
			
		

> Well, _I heard _ that you _could_  have met Rel......




I know.  What a loser, right?


----------



## Enkhidu

I'm still waiting to hear why #14 got crossed off the list.

Loser.


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> I'm still waiting to hear why #14 got crossed off the list.




Wife's Solo Campaign + LARPing


----------



## dshai527

Rel said:
			
		

> Wife's Solo Campaign + LARPing




Ahh was she the school girl prestige class or did she just wear leather armor.  

PS Rel - Can you change Enk's title to loser? or Could have met Rel, but is a loser ...that would be teh_funny


----------



## Aurora

Rel said:
			
		

> Wife's Solo Campaign + LARPing



Sweet.


----------



## Enkhidu

By the way, a lot of you might be long term enough readers to remember when my son was born. Well, taking a page from Rel's book about roleplaying for toddlers, my wife and I have begun helping him through his own little adventures before bedtime. So far they're very simple (sneak past the dragon, wave the magic wand to enlarge the monkey, etc.), but they're getting more complex as we go.

And he _loves_ it. 

So thanks, Rel. I wouldn't have thought of this idea myself. Of course, when my son does end up in the steam tunnels his Sophmore Year in college, I'll be blaming you.


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> And he _loves_ it.
> 
> So thanks, Rel. I wouldn't have thought of this idea myself. Of course, when my son does end up in the steam tunnels his Sophmore Year in college, I'll be blaming you.




Awesome!   

If I can make a recommendation for when he gets a little older, see if you can lay your hands on a copy of the _Descent_ boardgame by Fantasy Flight games.  It's expensive if you buy it new (around $80) but if you can snag a used copy off ebay you might get it for considerably less than that.

I recommend it for a lot of reasons.  Even if you didn't have a kid, the game itself is fun and the box is FULL of stuff you can use for your regular games (80 miniatures, a big snap-together set of dungeon tiles with a 1" grid already on them and tons of counters).  But for Samantha, not only was the game fun but very educational.  The dice you roll to hit and kill the monsters have pips and digits on them that represent various things in the game from the range of your missile weapons to how much damage you did.  Samantha learned a LOT about counting, addition and subtraction from playing Descent and we have had tons of fun with it as well.

Furthermore, when we started out, I was always the one who set the game up and let her (and sometimes my wife) "explore the dungeon".  But nowadays Samantha almost always insists on being the "Game Master" and she's getting pretty darned good at it too!


----------



## Aurora

*Ahem* Someday I would like to see my character back in the story hour.....get writing!


----------



## Tamlyn

Aurora said:
			
		

> *Ahem* Someday I would like to see my character back in the story hour.....get writing!




Hear, hear!!!


----------



## Rel

Aurora said:
			
		

> *Ahem* Someday I would like to see my character back in the story hour.....get writing!




Yeah!  Because she is TOTALLY HOTTER than the other characters!


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> Yeah!  Because she is TOTALLY HOTTER than the other characters!




You do know that this story hour isn't illustrated, don't you?


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> You do know that this story hour isn't illustrated, don't you?




It is, inside my dirty little head.


----------



## Tamlyn

Rel said:
			
		

> Yeah!  Because she is TOTALLY HOTTER than the other characters!




A chubby halfling, a half-orc, a panther-man, an older priest, & a guy who hangs out in the woods. Yeah, no offense intended to Aurora, but it's incredibly likely that most women are hotter than these guys. I'd rather see the update. I'd REALLY rather see the update than what Rel has in his twisted little head. _<shudders>_


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> A chubby halfling, a half-orc, a panther-man, an older priest, & a guy who hangs out in the woods. Yeah, no offense intended to Aurora, but it's incredibly likely that most women are hotter than these guys. I'd rather see the update. I'd REALLY rather see the update that what Rel has in his twisted little head. _<shudders>_




It's not pretty in there.  But neither is it boring!


----------



## Tamlyn

Rel said:
			
		

> It's not pretty in there.  But neither is it boring!




I'll take your word for it.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> A chubby halfling, a half-orc, a panther-man, an older priest, & a guy who hangs out in the woods. Yeah, no offense intended to Aurora, but it's incredibly likely that most women are hotter than these guys. I'd rather see the update. I'd REALLY rather see the update than what Rel has in his twisted little head. _<shudders>_




I'll have you know that Pack is not even remotely chubby!!!  He's actually more of a Kate Moss type, except for being a halfling

...and male

...and not a coke fiend.

but he is actually quite skinny and quite weak (6 STR)

...and he's way hotter than the other guys!!


----------



## Dawn

Sorry, halflings don't strike me as "hot".  Cute maybe.  But it's all about your point of reference I guess.  
Redheads, however.  That is a different story.  There are only two kinds of redheads and it should be noted that there is no such thing as a "socially accpetable" redhead.  They are "hot" or "not".  Aurora definately qualifies as the former.


----------



## Tamlyn

It's amazing the directions we can take this thread even without Enk & d'Shai steering.


----------



## Dawn

We could comment more on the story if there were more story entries.  In the mean time we have to find some way to pass the time.....


----------



## dshai527

Okay so we are at a part of the story that frankly is taking a long time to write because we want to make sure that all the important information gets into it and the little things too. So please keep checking and maybe Enk will finally spontaneously combust like I have been hoping for. On another note Aurora and I have purchased a new house with our plundered and mostly borrowed treasure horde. So we are trying to get moved and ward off the flu bug and cold virus that has been haunting us for a month, but other than that I spend all my free time writing stuff for the story hour ...just not this part of the story hour...actually its for the next gaming session, but that will be in the stroy hour sooner or later. 

I was going to post a teaser, but frankly too much has happened to make it relevant to the story as you know it right now. I mean common they are not even Trennor's Men right now...oops. 

Seriously let me take a moment out of story to state a few things about the gaming world. The hardest thing to get across about this world is that clerics (as in the PC class) are few and far between. Most temple workers and even the heads of the temples are in fact adepts, with no real power from their god. Clerics (like Theo) actually wield the power of the diety. Thsi can cause some divide between the church and the true clerics, as I am hoping you will see as Theo's story plays out.  Well I hope Enk has a rewrite almost ready on the latest chapter, and I hope you continue to enjoy. Please feel free to ask questions about the story and the world and we wil try to keep things moving. 

BTW Enk recently boght a mortgage too, so congrats to him as well. Anyone wanna help move...I will DM as compensation.


----------



## Tamlyn

dshai527 said:
			
		

> BTW Enk recently boght a mortgage too, so congrats to him as well. Anyone wanna help move...I will DM as compensation.




Fly me out to OH and I'd be happy to help you both move, especially if I get to game with you. I'd even bring the chocolate Twizzlers and adult beverages.


----------



## Aurora

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Fly me out to OH and I'd be happy to help you both move, especially if I get to game with you. I'd even bring the chocolate Twizzlers and adult beverages.




We're checking on a _one way_ ticket from Boise right now......hehehe you didn't say we had to fly you home.


----------



## Enkhidu

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> ...and adult beverages.




Are those the kind that come in sexy six-packs? Or is that more of a _The St. Pauli Girl Does Dayton_ kind of thing?


----------



## fett527

dshai527 said:
			
		

> BTW Enk recently boght a mortgage too, so congrats to him as well. Anyone wanna help move...I will DM as compensation.



I already get this.  What's in it for me?


----------



## Tamlyn

Aurora said:
			
		

> We're checking on a _one way_ ticket from Boise right now......hehehe you didn't say we had to fly you home.




That's fine. I'd be perfectly happy sleeping on your couch for a couple of months.


----------



## dshai527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> That's fine. I'd be perfectly happy sleeping on your couch for a couple of months.





We don't allow pets or guests on the good couch, but you can fight Jon (He plays Worm aka Jon the Nudist or on chili nights Silent Jon) for the rights to the foldout couch. I think Enk once had to share a sleeping area with Jon...I would tell you to ask him about it, but I think therapy has surpressed those memories.


----------



## Tamlyn

dshai527 said:
			
		

> We don't allow pets or guests on the good couch, but you can fight Jon (He plays Worm aka Jon the Nudist or on chili nights Silent Jon) for the rights to the foldout couch. I think Enk once had to share a sleeping area with Jon...I would tell you to ask him about it, but I think therapy has surpressed those memories.




Um...never mind. I might be able to hold my own on chili nights. But with him being Silent Jon and all...I just don't know if I can handle the additional d6 sneak attack damage.


----------



## dshai527

If you can do housework and babysit we might do it anyway.


----------



## Tamlyn

dshai527 said:
			
		

> If you can do housework and babysit we might do it anyway.




I can, but it's not worth it. If my wife finds out I've been copping out all these years she'll kill me!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> I can, but it's not worth it. If my wife finds out I've been copping out all these years she'll kill me!




Just tell her you can only clean wearing nothing but a grass skirt and talking constantly like a pirate and she'll be grateful for the lack of assistance!


----------



## dshai527

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> Just tell her you can only clean wearing nothing but a grass skirt and talking constantly like a pirate and she'll be grateful for the lack of assistance!




Hey don'y give away all my secrets...besides grass skirts are coming back into fashion...just wait


----------



## Tamlyn

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Hey don'y give away all my secrets...besides grass skirts are coming back into fasion...just wait




Alright, I'm officially freaked out. And that's saying something. I officially withdraw my offer.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Have you ever played "Spot the Infogames Reference?"*

What in the name of all that is good and pure are you doing? 

Good and pure? You mean like Annette Funicello?

More like the exact opposite of Britney Spears' image.

Great. Now we're going to get sued for defamation of character.

That only works if what you're saying's not true. Anyway, what are you doing? 

I am reviewing what our readers have posted lately. 

That explains the papers and the arcane scoring system. By the way, what does MFOE mean?

Makes Fun Of Enk. What else?

Shut it. So what's with the Tiki torches?

I am getting ready for the council meeting.

What council meeting?

The one we have to vote off a reader, until there is only one left?

What? What have you been smoking? We don't vote off a reader.

You mean they vote off a writer? Wow. Sucks to be you, man.

Speaking of me hating you, did you know that they'll be booking flights into space soon? I'm getting you a one way ticket for your next birthday. So what makes you think we're voting off readers in the first place? We've been trying to get _more_ readers, not less. 

We are? Then why do we take so long to post? I thought it was all part of an elaborate endurance contest.

You have no idea what we do, do you?

I know you said doo-doo.

Just push the button.

Tip of the Day: Pretending to be the Free Sample Associate is frowned upon by the department store who owns the merchandise that you are giving away. But it makes up for it in the comedy department when the customers try to leave with their new sample. 

Yeah. You know, that old lady almost made it all the way out the door before security tackled her.  



*****


Pack hummed quietly through an absentminded smile while making careful brushing motions with his hands.  With each flick of his wrist, punctuated with a cluck of the tongue, another layer of dust disappeared from the rough carvings etched in the stone. After a few more flicks, the bard stepped back to admire his handiwork.

The relief was simple but powerful, depicting a procession of figures both male and female dressed in the vestments of the Zuran faithful. Each stood taller than Worm; their feet were wreathed in clouds, almost as if the priestly parade was floating around the cylindrical chamber. _This would take my breath away if I hadn’t already lost it from the climb._

Worm’s voice cut through the stillness like pond ice splitting at spring. “How long do we have to wait here?” Pack jumped at his brother’s boom.

“Not so loud, Worm! For all we know there’s more monsters down here, and I don’t feel like being a midnight snack, or a midday snack, or maybe… Say, what time of day is it, anyway? Oh well, doesn’t matter. It’s not like there’s any _good_ time of day to get eaten by horrible things in the dark like ghouls or grimlocks or grues.” Pack said the last with a shudder, and tried not to think about teeth on his toes. 

“Anyway, Theo should be back soon enough. All he wanted to do was get some food and say goodbye. Once he gets back from up there,” Pack pointed upward at the staircase leading into the lower levels of the temple proper, “we head out whichever of these tunnels lead out of here. So relax. Because I’ve got the feeling from the way that Ander and Ashrem are acting it’s going to be a long time before we get more rest.” Pack glanced over at the two warriors; both had emptied their packs and were picking through gear, repacking and repairing their belongings. For a moment Pack thought about following their example, but quickly discarded the idea after realizing that he couldn’t even remember what he had stowed in his rucksack in the first place. Doing an inventory would be a nightmare.

Worm grunted. It seemed as if he was making a point not to look at the ranger and scout. “Bah! He’s probably up there enjoying a fancy meal with his father-in-law while we’re down here eating spoiled jerky squatting in a cellar.”

“This is hardly a cellar, Worm.” Pack tossed his arms wide, presenting the room to his brother for the fifth time since they’d arrived in the chamber. He spun slowly in place as he spoke, “Look at it! Someone took the time to carve these archways and walls, and it’s not like they did it because lots of people were going to see it, either. Each one of these is different, like they had eight different sculptors down here. One for each archway.” Pack glanced at his brother; the half-orc had yet to look up from his sulk. “At least it smells better than that sewer we’ve been trudging through.”

Worm didn’t crack a smile at the joke. “Smell or not, churches make my tusks ache.” The warrior rose to his feet and dusted his trouser legs. “I’ll be back in the sewers when you’re ready,” he said, ducking under the raised portcullis of the nearest archway. 

“We should remain as close together as possible, Worm,” Ashrem called, slipping a dagger into his boot. “As the wise among my people once said, ‘the fish that swims alone is food for larger fish’.”

“Maybe I’ll listen, when your wisemen tell you to follow someone other than that Ionian fool,” muttered Worm, in a voice that Pack barely heard as the young warrior stomped away. If Ander or Ashrem heard, they didn’t say anything. After a moment, the bard followed his brother, following the light from Worm’s new trophy. He hadn’t traveled far before he came to the half-orc’s hulking form leaning easily against the slime covered wall. In his hands he held a long black spike and dirty rag. 

“What are you doing?” said Pack.

“Polishing a claw from that thing I killed. What did you call it? The owlbear. I’m going to carve it into a piece for King’s Corner.” The half-orc held out the claw, which Pack had mistaken for rock, for closer inspection.

The bard just shook his head and propped up against his bigger brother. “About earlier, Worm…” 

“It’s all right, Pack,” Worm interrupted. “We both said some things. There’s no reason to dig our graves over it. Toss it with the dishwater.”

The halfling chuckled. “Remember when you threatened to leave me stranded in the well tied to the bucket?”

“And I would have, too, if you’d have told Theo about the cows.” Pack saw the smile spread on his younger brother’s face. “I bet half of that herd still has big swords branded on their flanks.”

“Those were swords?” Pack laughed. “No wonder Theo always thought you were innocent. He spent three weeks sniffing around looking for someone who’d brand a big cross on his cattle!” Worm let loose a guffaw. Pack joined him, and the two spent a while letting out a long overdue laugh.

Pack let out a slow breath, and with it a final giggle. “Have you ever thought you might be too hard on him?”

“Who,” answered Worm with chuckle, “Ander? Not a chance.”

“I’m not saying he’s one of Tyr’s Own or anything, but he’s always done right by me.”

“But look at him, Pack. He makes bad decisions all the time, ones that could get us killed. It wouldn’t be so bad if he were a good enough in a fight to get us out of these scrapes, but it’s like I’m the one who has to clean up all his messes. I can’t imagine he wasn’t like that on your trip north.”

“He saved my life up there, Worm. More than once. At the end, he even took on a dozen dark skinned dwarves on those ant monsters by himself to try and give us enough time to take the children and run for it.”

“He beat a dozen mounted dwarves?” Worm said with a cocked eyebrow.

“Well, no. Once we figured out what he meant to do we went back for him and faced them down together.”

“So I was right – he almost got you killed then, too.”

Pack put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant at all, Worm! You weren’t there. You didn’t see it when he had a pair of bolts sticking from his chest and still made sure that we all got away from a pack of goblins, or when he picked up a dragon right from under the nose of a goblin chief.” Pack saw his brother open his mouth again as if to protest, but the bard continued and cut off any retort. “Ander might not be as strong as you, or as good with a weapon, but he’s every bit as brave as you are. Maybe even more, because I think he knows that Ashrem’s sneakier, and I’m smarter, and Theo’s wiser, and you’re stronger. But none of that matters, because up there, when it counted, none of us would have come back if it hadn’t been for him.”

Worm didn’t reply immediately, which puzzled the halfling. His bigger brother could more than hold his own in an argument. Finally, the half-orc let out a breath through loose flapping lips; it reminded Pack of the way a stubborn mule would whicker once it finally decided to give way.

“You never told me about the bolts in the chest,” said Worm. "You really think he’s got it in him?”

“Yes, I do,” answered Pack. With Worm, he had never needed a lot of words. He still liked to use them, but he hadn’t needed them.

“If it means that much to you, I guess I can give him the benefit of…”

Ashrem’s measured voice cut through the half-orc’s reply. “Pack! Worm! Ander would like to address us before Brother Theo descends from the temple with supplies.” Pack looked up to see the feloine standing in the archway of the tunnel.

“We’ll be there in a moment,” said Worm. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

“I do not believe it was a request,” said Ashrem. Pack could tell that the scout was less than happy. 

From the sound of it, so could Worm. “And I wasn’t asking for permission, mouser!” Worm was now in motion, heading deliberately toward the opening in a way Pack had seen many times before – his brother’s open mind was again shut.

Even in the dim light, Pack thought he saw Ashrem’s hackles rise. “All the better. It is unlikely you would have anything useful to add. Now, unless you have something to tell him, I suggest you go back to whatever game you were playing,” he finished, turning away from the tunnel and leaving the archway.

Worm stomped through the opening right after the feloine. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!”


***


“I want to thank you again for helping me and my friends, Your Eminence,” said Theo as he followed his former father-in-law down the stairway toward the cathedral catacombs. Each step on the ancient stones led them farther away from the hearty glow of the sanctuary lamps and into the flickering light of oil lanterns and torches. “And thank you for your understanding – I’m sure that once the crown digs deep enough they’ll discover who was really behind all of this. Given our history, I wasn’t sure that…”

“Please Theobald, I have asked you repeatedly to call me Father, if not out of the bond of marriage to my daughter then as head of your spiritual family.” The bishop paused before a patch of grime on the stone floor, gathering up his long robes in a vain attempt to keep from soiling the hem. “As for the charges, I would not have agreed to assist you if I had thought them credible. As for the rest, well perhaps it is time for us to put our pasts where they belong.”  He said the last with a forced and unnatural looking smile, as if the old man wasn’t used to being happy. 

“Well, we appreciate the thought and the gifts. I’ll make sure that whatever left over supplies we have are given to the temple in Hillen, and that the church coffers see a sizable donation come spring.” 

“Yes, yes that will be fine,” said the older priest with a wave of his hand. “Tell me, son, have you given anymore thought to my offer?”

Theo reached ahead to hold open a passage door for the older bishop. “I have considered it as the wind and rain consider the farmer’s pleas,” the statement came out more harshly than intended, so Theo added, “Father,”

The bishop shook his head sadly as he moved through the portal. “We live in desperate times, Brother Theobald. The War has left Tor with a child as its sovereign and the soil no longer yields the crops of rains past. Pestilence and disease from Ion has started to spill northward into our own provinces. The people are in need in body and mind, but mostly it is their spirit that needs healing.” The priest slowed to let the younger man come even with him. “My son, Zuras has placed his mark upon you, and you have shown your devotion to him. Continue that devotion as you were meant to and we can give the people hope. You can show them that the Storm Lord, at least, has not forsaken them, and help them trust in the church. Help them grow rich in spirit as the church grows as heavy with worshippers as a pregnant cloud.”

“Your Eminence, I am not some red-combed rooster meant to strut around and help overfill your offering boxes. And I am not a minstrel set to dance for the masses just to make them feel better about their condition. Zuras has given me some small portion of his power, true, and I have always served him. I protected his holy places during the War, even at the most terrible of costs.” Theo paused for a moment, stopping and waiting for the bishop to face him. “I wanted to curse his name that day, but did not. Because I knew he had some sort of plan for me, and because I knew that one day I would be rewarded with a life among the clouds where we could spend a thousand lifetimes together. But I cannot – will not – allow others to tell me the Storm Lord’s wishes any longer. I minister to those that love the rain, and protect those I can. And I know that he is pleased, because he has not removed his hand from me.”

Theo turned away and started back down the passageway toward the top of the final stairwell down to his friends. “If you want to show the people that glory of Zuras, then you don’t need my help, Bishop. You need to open your coffers and show them the generosity our lord commands. Give your prayers and small miracles freely, and they will come to you. Only then will they – and you – see his glory.”

Theo felt a spindly hand on his shoulder as the bishop wheeled him gently about. “I expected that to be your answer, I did not suspect your tongue to be so sharp, Brother. There was a time when I was younger that I was idealistic enough to believe as you do now. But time has taught me that our world is an unforgiving place, and that sometimes what is right for the church is more important that what is right for the servant.”

Theo pulled away from the older man. “My friends and I must go. Be well, your Eminence,” he said as he started down the steps.

“You must understand, my son. What I do I do for you and for the church. We must sustain the faith, and losing one of the Chosen would be a blow from which we could not easily recover.” 

“What are you talking about?” Theo said, turning back toward the ancient priest.

Before the bishop could answer, Theo heard Ander’s voice echo up from below. “Oh, there you are. Do you think we could…” He glanced down to see Ander enter a tunnel branching off from the circular chamber.

Worm’s angry bellow interrupted the ranger’s question. “You want to hear what I have to say? Well here it is!” 

The shout was followed by the wet smack of a fist on flesh and bone. Ander staggered backward out of the tunnel and fell in a senseless heap. 

Then Theo heard a rumble, as if thunder pealed in the far distance, and several doors burst open behind him, spilling a stream of armed men past him on the stairwell. Others holding ropes served as anchors for another dozen warriors as they slid down to the floor below. Each of them wore red tabards with a wolf’s head blazon.

Theo stared at the bishop, but the ancient priest had already looked away in what Theo could only imagine was shame.



*****

And the first person voted off Small Beginnings is...


----------



## Jon Potter

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> And the first person voted off Small Beginnings is...




Oh Oh!! Pick me! Pick me!

No... wait...

Don't pick me! Don't pick me!


----------



## Tamlyn

Nice update. I like the rising tension between Ander and Worm, and Theo and the his ex-father-in-law. 

So now the party's situation goes from worse to worser.


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> So now the party's situation goes from worse to worser.




I disagree.  My feeling is that they were already worser and are now going to worserer.

As for who's being voted off the story hour, I'm SURE it's me.  BUT...I play the Hidden Immunity Idol!...


----------



## Tamlyn

Rel said:
			
		

> As for who's being voted off the story hour, I'm SURE it's me.  BUT...I play the Hidden Immunity Idol!...




Remember, you're not the one who promised to help move and then backed out.   

BTW, nice picture of fett. He looks older than I thought he was.


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> BTW, nice picture of fett. He looks older than I thought he was.



You can't tell with the helmet on but under there he's angry AND drunk.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> BTW, nice picture of fett. He looks older than I thought he was.




I don't think that's really Fett!  Our Fett isn't that tall!!!


----------



## Aurora

It's time for an update....don't make me pull out the whips.....


----------



## Enkhidu

Not today. I - honest to god - pulled a muscle in my neck last night. By sneezing.


----------



## Aurora

Nice.


----------



## dshai527

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Not today. I - honest to god - pulled a muscle in my neck last night. By sneezing.




Impossible! A person in top physical conditioning such as yourself cannot sustain mortal ailments. You should have taken EPIC TOUGHNESS. 

Either that or my well placed sneeze cantrips are paying off.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Not today. I - honest to god - pulled a muscle in my neck last night. By sneezing.




You have muscles?


----------



## Bubbalicious

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Not today. I - honest to god - pulled a muscle in my neck last night. By sneezing.




Apparently, "not today" means "not this year".  Dudes, it's been a month-and-a-half!


----------



## Tamlyn

Sorry to get everyone's hopes up. It's not an update. Nor is it a bump.

It's simply a wish for everyone to have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, or any other applicable seasonal holiday!

~Tam


----------



## dshai527

Where O' Where has my Story Hour gone
Where O' Where can it be...


----------



## Dungannon

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Where O' Where has my Story Hour gone
> Where O' Where can it be...



Shouldn't _we_ be asking _you_ that?


----------



## Tamlyn

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Shouldn't _we_ be asking _you_ that?




Hear, hear!!!


----------



## Rel

I chatted with Enk last night and guess what he was doing?  WATCHING THE SUPERBOWL!

JUST WRITE THE STORY HOUR, MONKEY BOY!!


----------



## fett527

I promise to beat Enk about the head with whatever is available at the gaming table tonight.


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> I promise to beat Enk about the head with whatever is available at the gaming table tonight.




Betcha don't get the chance.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> Betcha don't get the chance.



Nope, he has escaped from my clutches once again!


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Nope, he has escaped from my clutches once again!




pwnd

In your defense, do your clutches even threaten adjacent squares?


----------



## Bubbalicious

Rel said:
			
		

> pwnd
> 
> In your defense, do your clutches even threaten adjacent squares?




No, but he's *DAMNED* hard to hit!!!


----------



## Tamlyn

Hey, where is everybody?


----------



## Bubbalicious

We're all still just waiting (like, 6 months now) for Enk to get off his butt and post an installment.  He says they have a bunch written and want to be able to post a bunch consecutively, but right now I think people would settle for one installment a month (as opposed to two a year).


----------



## Dawn

Just a word from our sponsor would be nice.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*And now a word from our sponsors...*

Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop!

Beep!

Beep!

This is a test and only a test of the emergency posting system. If this had been an actual post you would have been instructed to read the following post and reply with comments. Once again this is a test of the emergency posting system. This test is brought to you by the letters E and D, and the number 527. This concludes our test. We now return you to your regular programming.

Beep! 

Beep! 

Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop!



*****

*Interlude:*

The thug picked idly at the bandage wrapped loosely around the stump of his little finger and grimaced in pain. Its loss hadn’t hurt at first: the beggar’s small sword had been exceptionally sharp. Searing the wound to stop the bleeding, however, had brought the type of pain that reminded him he was still alive – a useful reminder, as the infection from the grime from the sewer was almost certain to cost him more than his finger if he didn’t beg, borrow, or steal enough coin to “donate” to some random temple for the healing favor of some god or another.

If he concentrated, he could almost feel the phantom digit when he made a fist. The thought made him grimace again, this time in cold, slow anger. Still, the pain and the anger served to keep the thief’s mind occupied enough not to dwell on his current surroundings: an opulent antechamber decorated with a score what Nevik supposed were priceless paintings and sculptures of persons he did not recognize.

Nevik had never been comfortable among the wealthy. He was a product of the back alley, the whorehouse, and the gutter and he knew it. More importantly, he was comfortable with it. By his fifth summer he had learned that life was worth only as much coin as it could swindle, steal, or kill for. Coin was Nevik’s only friend, and the only master he served. But the wealthy – the _noble_ – were something entirely different. Since his first brush with the nobles he had seen thieves, killers, and con artists, but the wealthy played at these as if they were sport. They would wage a fortune to gain an intangible ounce of prestige, and would murder simply to advance position. Nevik might have been a low life son-of-a-whore, but at least his brand of thievery made sense. 

“You are summoned.” Nevik’s hand snapped toward the hilt of his knife as he whirled, his body tense at the thought that someone – _anyone_ -  could approach him unheard and unnoticed. A hulking one-eyed guard stood not a pace away. For a moment the two locked eyes, staring each other down in an unspoken contest of dominance. The guard smiled, showing a crowd of filed teeth that seemed ready to spill out from behind the man’s lips, and Nevik looked away with a shudder.

“You will follow me and touch nothing.”

Nevik attempted to answer. His agreement caught in his throat as he glanced back at the guard, whose one remaining eye bored a hole through the smaller man. The thug stifled another shudder and fixed his gaze on the one point of the overpowering visage that did not send a shudder down his spine: a gem encrusted eye patch. The guard paused for a moment, then turned and strode down the hallway.

With the cyclop’s back turned, Nevik’s quickly sized up his unnerving escort. The man was burly and tall, taller even than the half-orc who had caught him in the sewers and a good deal bulkier. But the guard’s size belied deft and agile movement, and the larger man made no sound despite the heavy plate armor he wore. The thug’s eyes reflexively roamed over the armor’s joints looking for places in which he could slip a blade if the meeting with his employer turned sour; he found none. The longer he looked at the metal suit the more it looked like a second skin, seemingly formed of a single piece of pliant yet strong steel.

Nevik’s ever-present frown deepened as he realized that even the element of surprise wouldn’t be enough to even the odds; he began instead looking for escape routes from the labyrinth of hallways his employer called home. After several twists and turns the guard stopped before a pair of heavy and intricately carved doors. Without bothering to turn, the guard stuck out an arm and pushed them easily open. The thief stepped through the opening, doing his best to avoid the cyclop’s gaze, and walked cautiously into the room. If the guard noticed he gave no indication, and closed the door with a seemingly purposeful thud.

The room was surprisingly small considering the grandeur of its double doors. It was also barren – a marked contrast to the overpowering opulence to which Nevik had been subjected. It’s only contents were a heavy writing desk, a single chair, and a tall and ornate fireplace that took up one full wall of the room. In front of the fireplace stood a rangy armor-clad man with his hands clasped behind his back. Despite the fire roaring in the fireplace, the chamber was eerily cold. For a moment, Nevik thought he could see his breath.

You sent for me, Master Vith…?” he began.

“Captain!” the warrior corrected without turning to face the thief.

“Apologies,” Nevik said hurridly, “Captain Vithseer. I didn’t realize you still used the title since your dismissal.” The thug regretted the words almost immediately. In the short time he and the other Tridents had worked for the man he had proven… sensitive about the manner in which he left the service of the King.

The Captain turned slowly, settling himself in the single chair as he stared at the thief. Nevik avoided the gaze even more fervently than he had the cyclop’s: the guard’s had been unsettling, similar in feeling to what he felt in an enemy gang’s territory, but the Captain looked at him as if he were a piece of spoiled meat. “I have a new army now, Nevik. One that rivals the Torian Brigades and the Ionian Cavalry combined.”  The thug could feel the warrior’s eyes reading him as if his thoughts were written in bold script across his chest. “I had counted you among that number. Are you no longer?”

“Yes, I… I mean no, Captain. I mean I didn’t know that I had agreed to… But with the amount you are paying I just assumed that…”

The Captain chuckled. The laugh sounded mirthless and dead. “You serve only one master, Nevil Nine Fingers,” the thief grimaced as he realized he was picking at the bandage again, and frowned in frustration and shame, “gold. I knew that when I first compacted with you and your fellows.” The warrior raised finger and pushed back the thief’s head until their eyes locked. “But I have not brought you here to recount the past. I brought you here to offer you a future: something greater than gold.”

“I don’t understand,” said the thief, suddenly aware of an uncomfortable ache in the pit of his stomach, as if he had waged all of his coin on a single throw of fair bones.

“Power!” Captain Vithseer’s eyes widened and glinted in the firelight as he continued in a whisper. “What do you wish for most?”

“Gold,” he said uncertainly.

“A lie,” said the Captain. “A means to an end. What do you wish for most?” The question was insistent.

“To lead the Tridents,” he lied again, “and the Blades and the Shadows.”

“It is only a small part of what awaits if you tell me the truth. _What do you wish for most?_” 

Nevik looked at his hand and flexed, no longer wincing in pain. “I wish for revenge! I want that beggar and his backward friends to pay for what they did to me!” He was seething now, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, his unease about the offer swept aside in a red blaze of anger.

“Again, _what do you wish for most?_”

“Revenge! Give me my revenge!” he shouted, staring into the Captain’s eyes, now merely echoes of the flames licking from the hearth behind him. “Give me the power to take my revenge!”

The room went suddenly dark, as if the fire had been snuffed, but the flame’s roar did not abate. Instead it grew, consuming the Captain’s chilling chuckle. 

In the blackness of the roaring fire, Nevik screamed.

The light returned gradually, leaving long and receding shadows that shrank to nothingness as the fire re-lit the room. Captain Vithseer sat at the desk, staring at a sheet of parchment. He took a nearby candle, lighting it in the fireplace, dripped a dollop of wax onto the document, and sealed it using his thumb. With a silent nod he rose and stepped toward the door, his only company his nine fingered shadow.


*End of Interlude*


*****

Next time: Can things get even worse for the Heroes? Will they finally figure out what dastardly villian dogs their steps? Tune in next time for "Rel is a No-Good Shiftless Bum," or "No; Really; We Mean It," and see!


----------



## Dungannon

I'm sorry, it's been so long I've forgotten.  Who are the Heroes again?  And what are they supposed to be doing?


----------



## dshai527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> I'm sorry, it's been so long I've forgotten.  Who are the Heroes again?  And what are they supposed to be doing?




Okay a short recap

Our Heroes
1) Ander (played by Enkhidu) - An Ionian youth who escaped to Tor to avoid murder charges. Under the study of the northern Ranger Icemantle Ander has become an expert tracker and hunter capable of surviving the harsh tundra and its inhabitants. His guilt and self doubt keep him from being anything more than an emotional hermit. 

2) Aurora (played by Aurora) - A Torian native whose halfelven mother died during childbirth but has left her with an unusual gift. She has shown a natural spellcasting talent that has only been seen once before, wielded by the Lightning Lord Dunlor. Aurora is currently missing and is thought to be in league with the mage killers by the Torian Government. 

3) Ashrem (Played by fett527) - A catperson, feloine, from the Mist Isle, who fought in first demon war. During that time though he found killing to be beneath his status as an artist and tried to defect only to have his unit slaughtered by demonic forces because he left his post. As he tried to return to aid his comrades he lost consciousness and awoke to find that several years had passed. Ashamed of his actions, Ashrem lived in seclusion, disquised as a begger, in Icemist the town where he awoke. He has recently decided that he cannot hide form his past and wants to return home to atone for his sins, but he he has found that the feloines are no more. That the end of the demons wars came with a high price, including the disappearance of his home isle. 

4) "Pack" (Played by Bubblicious) - An orphan left in the town of Icemist, Pack is know for three things; his enormous backpack which is stuffed with various odds and ends, his oversized Brother Worm, and his limitless imagination. A natural storyteller and performer Pack had delighted the citizens of Icemist for years with his antics and acrobatics, but when he helped saved the children from an evil ritual, he awakened the epic poet within himself that yearns for more than menial performances. Pack is the emotional glue that binds the heroes together, even when they don't want to be. 

5) Brother Theobald (Played by Tim) - An aged priest who wanted nothing more that to farm his land and settle into obscurity, but the Gods had other plans. Blessed by Zuras the Storm god, Theo defended the walls of Tor during the Demon Wars leavuing the village of Icemist to be overrrun, including his wife who refused to leave the small village undefended despite her father's request. Theo could not turn away the call since he was a chosen one, a full priest. That decision has haunted him since his wife's death and caused him to turn away from his faith (or more aptly his organized faith in the church), but the recent events have strengthed his faith in his god and in himself and he is realizing that his god's views and the church's view may not be the same thing. 

6) Worm (Played by SilentJon) - Another of Icemist's orphan, Worm is a halforc with a chip on his shoulder. Although he has been shown favor by most of the citizens of Icemist, a select few of the upper class singled him out for "special" (read unfair) treatment.  Worm focused on this attention and let it build within him and when he was not allowed to go and achieve the glory of rescueing the children along with his brother, it spilled over. Worm is out to prove that he is worth more than any two men alive and will stop at nothing to gain the glory he so richly deserves. 

The Story

Kids get kidnapped for a demonic ritual, heroes go and save them. (See Book 1) Aurora gets an offer to go back to the mage academy (she had been kicked out before for having unnatural power). Theo is heading back to Tor to hand his holdings over to his nephew when the group gets word that Aurora is missing. The team hurries to Tor to find that Aurora's sponsor has been murdered along with several other high mages. Aurora is a suspect, but so is Ander (is the fame of Icemist preceeding our heroes?). While investigating the heores befriend a Halfogre, Grogger, who claims to be a descendant of Trennor (The legend of Trennor is one of the oldest and greatest legends - A knight who singlehandedly held a mountain pass for two weeks against an invading demon horde.) The heores find an old sword in the basement that may have once belonged to the famed hero and continue thier quest. The heores soon find that they are wanted for murder and are dogged every step of the way as they search for clues until Theo's father-in-law betrays them and allows the Iron Wolves to ambush them in the Catacombs of the church. 

1) Will Ander survive the clutches of the Iron Wolves?
2) Will Pack, Worm and Ashrem escape the sewers in time to help him?
3) What will his father's betrayel  do to Theo's already frail faith of the church?
4) What has happene to the nine-fingered assassin and who is Vithsere?
5) What secret does the Blade of Trennor hold?
6) Where is Aurora? and why was she kidnapped?
7) Will Enk and D'Shai ever post again?
8) Was the Demonic ritual in Icemist a part of a larger plot that our heroes now find themsleves immersed in?


----------



## Mahtave

Oh THAT Heroes story.  I remember now....   So, um,  how long before... Ahem, another update?


----------



## Aurora

Wow, I go on vacation and my husband and Enk actually post an update? I shall have to go visit my parents in San Diego more often.


----------



## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> Tune in next time for "Rel is a No-Good Shiftless Bum," or "No; Really; We Mean It," and see!




Also in the next exciting episode:  Water is WET!  The Donald is RICH!  AND Rosie O'Donnell is rather LOUD AND ANNOYING!


Looking forward to it regardless.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Aurora said:
			
		

> Wow, I go on vacation and my husband and Enk actually post an update? I shall have to go visit my parents in San Diego more often.




Does that mean that your presence is what's holding things up?


----------



## Dawn

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> Does that mean that your presence is what's holding things up?




Oh sure, blame it on the redheads.  Always the redheads.....


----------



## Bubbalicious

Dawn said:
			
		

> Oh sure, blame it on the redheads.  Always the redheads.....




Um..... now it's MY FAULT???  (I'm a redhead)


----------



## Aurora

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> Um..... now it's MY FAULT???  (I'm a redhead)



Well.....if it has to be someone's fault......


----------



## Bubbalicious

Aurora said:
			
		

> Well.....if it has to be someone's fault......




I blame Marvel Ultimate Alliance!


And babies!


And Enk wanting to screw with the story!


----------



## Tamlyn

Ok guys. Sagiro has updated. There's no more excuses. Get 'er done!


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Ok guys. Sagiro has updated. There's no more excuses.



 Oh don't you worry, Enk's got a bag o' holding full of excuses.  



> Get 'er done!




Satan has a special prong on his pitchfork for those that use this phrase.  Think phallus with sharp, jagged edges.  

Pucker up baby, and he's not lookin' for your mouth.


----------



## Tamlyn

fett527 said:
			
		

> Satan has a special prong on his pitchfork for those that use this phrase.



I actually hadn't intended to sound like Larry the Cable Guy. More like a general friendly encouragement. 



			
				fett527 said:
			
		

> Think phallus with sharp, jagged edges. Puckering up baby, and he's not lookin' for your mouth.



And holy crap!    Remind me to try and stay off your bad side!


----------



## Enkhidu

fett527 said:
			
		

> Oh don't you worry, Enk's got a bag o' holding full of excuses.




Type IV no less, baby.

Excuse number 6745 - "Sagiro updated? Pshaw! Call me when Piratecat gets back to the end of the world!"


----------



## fett527

Hey, look!  You can still post to this thread.  Who knew?


----------



## Rel

That's funny.  I thought this thread was dead to me.


----------



## Tamlyn

Rel said:
			
		

> That's funny.  I thought this thread was dead to me.




Evidently, so did Enk and dshai.


----------



## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Evidently, so did Enk and dshai.




I saw Enk just a couple weeks ago and I encouraged him in the strongest possible terms to write the story hour.  But d'shai just went and reproduced again so he's slacking no doubt.


----------



## Tamlyn

Rel said:
			
		

> But d'shai just went and reproduced again so he's slacking no doubt.




Lousy misplaced priorities.


----------



## fett527

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Lousy misplaced priorities.




It's Enk's bday today.  So I think that means he should do what he loves and write.


----------



## Abciximab

There! Finally made it to the end. Ah crap, I'm at the end...


----------



## Bubbalicious

Abciximab said:
			
		

> There! Finally made it to the end. Ah crap, I'm at the end...




Yeah, those nine month gaps in the installments do wonders for catching up!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"On the run? Again?" or "Enough with the stalling - just update already!"*

I can’t believe it’s taken this long for us to get this post up.

I told you we should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque. I don’t know why you’re blaming me anyway, It would have been a lot faster if you hadn’t insisted on getting that Orange Julius.

You mean juice. Orange juice.

Same thing.

No they’re not. One is a tasty, refreshing beverage, and the other is Orange Julius.

Blasphemy! Orange Julius is like the nectar of Orangey gods!

What? You just said that Orange juice and orange Julius were the same thing! Now it’s taken on an ambrosian stature?

I have no idea what you just said.

That makes two of us.

What were we talking about again?

How its all fett’s fault that its been 8 months since the last post.

Good answer. Tip of the day:  Never work with an Enkhidu when a deadline is on the line.  

Just push the button.

I can't. It's stuck.

Must be from lack of use. Luckily, I got an Easy Button.

You mean, I've got an Easy Button.

No you don't, I stole this fair and square from...

*Punch*

Hey look! I've got an Easy Button!

*Push!*



*****

_Run! _

The command had never been given voice: that had not stopped feloine from obeying it immediately, driving Pack before him down the still open sewer while yanking the halfling’s older brother’s arm. His obedience had been rewarded immediately as the portcullis-like sewer grate crashed to the floor, set free by some hidden latch, trapping Ashrem, Pack, and Worm on one side of the steel grill and the red tabards of the Iron Wolves on the other. Whatever the grate’s original purpose, it had provided the trio a welcome method of escape.

To say that the time since that escape was unpleasant, however, would have been an understatement. It was not the smell – Ashrem had grown accustomed to the stench. It was not the flight from the Iron Wolves – no shame existed in fleeing a numerically superior force. It was not even the distasteful fact that he had been forced to leave Ander and Theobald to the Torians – the scout was not yet ready to disobey the woodsman’s orders, at least not quite yet. It was, instead, the brothers.

“No,” repeated Pack, “We have to go back for them.”

“Squash it, Pack,” said Worm, for the fourth time since Ashrem had led the companions into their latest corridor. “It’s time to worry about our own skins now.”

“No! I’m not taking another step until we turn around and…” The halfling never finished his statement, and ended up slung over his brother’s shoulder, wriggling like a fish.

The scene had played out nearly verbatim once before: Ashrem let slip a frustrated sigh. “Roscoe,” said the scout, “we cannot go back. I imagine that the Iron Wolves have already discovered our trail; even a one-eared bandit would have no trouble following your tirades.”

“But Ashrem, we can’t just leave…”

“We can, we have, and we will. Ander and I discussed this possibility after Aurora’s trail had grown cold. The Iron Wolves were too numerous and too well trained for us to avoid them forever.” The scout paused a moment to sniff the air, lifting a single finger at the bard in order to keep him hushed – through the stink he had detected a whiff of something vaguely familiar and dangerously unsettling. The scent was gone as quickly as it arrived. “Leaving him to be captured was, in fact, his idea,” he continued in a more hushed tone. “Come, we move while we talk.”

The scout led the way down yet another sewer in what he thought was the direction of the river, speaking softly to his companions in tow. “He thought that if the Iron Wolves succeeded in finding us that allowing himself to be caught would grant us the time we needed to get away.”

“That’s the first sensible order he’s given,” said Worm. Ashrem bared his teeth over his shoulder in response but bit back his retort, instead continuing down the slimy stone pathway. The scout heard Worm chuckle behind him, “Hells, there were a lot of them. Even I can’t take that many out if they know what they’re doing, and these are the troops that took Grogger, right? If we’d have stayed, all of us would have been in the hangman’s noose. At least this way, the only one getting his neck stretched is the one that got us into this mess.” The feloine couldn’t help but suppose that the last barb was meant specifically for him, but refused to take the tainted bait.

“I can’t believe you two are talking about leaving Ander to those men!” said Pack in an entirely overloud voice. “What about the fact that he’s our friend? Doesn’t that mean anything to you? And what about Theo, am I just supposed to forget that he’s back there too? Put me down, Worm!”

Ashrem slowed and turned to see the halfling struggling in his brother’s grip. “Pack,” he began in as soothing a voice as he could, in the circumstances, muster.

“I said put me down!” The halfling’s voice seemed different to the scout: more commanding and sure. Ashrem watched as the bigger brother set the elder down gingerly on the wet ground. “I don’t believe for one instant that you two think I’m going to stand for this! We’re going back, and we’re going back now!”

Ashrem felt suddenly tired. “Pack,” he said, “I never said I intended to leave him, I said that _he ordered us_ to leave him.” The scout rubbed at his temple. “As it turns out, there are limits to the Ander’s authority. They coincide with requiring his friends to leave him to a horrible death. We will find him and make good an escape.” He paused to let Pack absorb the idea, “Now, the Iron Wolves looked more concerned with capture than with killing. They’ll likely take Ander to their dungeons, which I imagine are either in or near the palace. If we hurry, and if we are not foolish enough to give away our position, we will arrive in plenty of time for what your more ribald tales would call “a jailbreak.””

Pack did not look convinced. “What about Theo?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I must believe that Theo will be either taken along with Ander, or will be sheltered by his father-in law. In either case, both are in far safer hands than the three of us; I imagine that with our escape and Ander’s capture, the Iron Wolves orders no longer include taking us alive and intact.

“So now we’re in deeper than before,” grunted Worm dully. “Then it’s past time for us to get up to the streets and out of this forsaken city. And you can forget about getting any more help out of me and Pack. We’re on the road out of here as soon as I see a way.”

“No Worm, I’m not leaving Ander and…”

Perhaps it was the noisome odor of the sewers, perhaps it was the pervasive noise from Pack, or perhaps it was the distraction of being hounded by the Iron Wolves; whatever the reason, by the time that Ashrem saw the dark silhouette round the corner – glinting steel in hand – it was too late, and the scout tumbled end over end in a jumble of twisted limbs.



***



Theo looked on helplessly as the Iron Wolves dragged their bound and chained prisoner down the rough stonework of the Temple’s underpassage. The Ionain groaned, and Theo winced in sympathy. _At least your still alive, lad. May the Storm Lord see you stay that way until I find a way to get you out of this squall._ He watched silently as his young friend‘s feet disappeared past two pair of burly guards and around the corner. Then he turned his attention back to the Bishop, who had yet to meet the more rustic priest’s accusing gaze.

Theo broke the silence first. “What did you get out of this? No taxes? A new Temple?”

“My son,” said the Bishop, lifting his haggard heard for the first time since Iron Wolves had made their entrance.

“_What did you get out of this?_” Theo stepped navel to navel with the older man, raising his fists in impotent rage. Tiny bolts of miniature lightning played around the cleric’s fingertips, arcing to the intricate pattern on his father-in-law’s robes. 

“You, my son.”

“You lie!” A slightly longer arc of energy sprang from Theo’s nose, shocking the older priest. The Bishop retreated, rubbing the appendage.

“They knew!” barked the older man. “They knew, and when they came to me they gave me no choice: deliver the Ionian and his friends to them and you would be free. Don’t, and you would hang with the rest of them. I did what was right, my son.”

“Stop calling me that!” boomed Theo.

“She would have wanted it, my son.”

“I am not your son!” Theo’s glow bathed the room in pale blue light as bits of lightning sparked from his limbs. The cleric’s voice boomed, “You lost the right to call me that by marriage when your orders were the ones that cost me Eleanor. You lost the right to call me that by the will of the Storm Lord when he chose to strike me with his blessings instead of you. And you lost the right to call me that by tradition today, when you betrayed me.”

Theo walked purposefully out of the room, turning to see the Bishop still leaning heavily upon the wall. “One day Zuras will call you to tend the clouds, Bishop. I hope for your sake that you no longer envy those who tend the curls of the Storm Lord’s beard. 



***



Ashrem rolled as he hit the flagstone, pulling himself clear of his assailant as a pair of blades appeared instinctively in his hands. The other figure didn’t seem to notice, deftly matching the scout’s movements as it slipped free of the impromptu grapple in which neither party seemed overly interested. Then the dark figure tumbled around yet another corner and out of sight, trailing a mane of ebony hair that smelled of jasmine. It was a scent at one time common among his people, and in less tumultuous times he might have been tempted to simply let it linger, but a flash of color in the dim light caught his attention.

The scout immediately stepped into the path of another quickly approaching figure – a yellow haired woman dressed in bright motley – and extended his blades in warning. “Stop and explain yourself,” he said simply.

The woman did not stop, instead ducking underneath the feloine’s swords and rolling over her shoulder. [/i]So that is what it feels like; little wonder the enemy curses when I do the same to them.[/i]   “I wouldn’t wait here if I were you!” said the fleeing woman. 

“Or what?” snorted Worm. Ashrem could sense the half-orc sidling up behind him, only to freeze at the sound of a long and unnatural howl.

“Or that,” answered the woman, turning on her heel as she coaxed the scout and his companions behind her. Her long strides set a blistering pace as the trio hurtled along the corridors after the dark figure – a figure that Ashrem was now sure was not only a woman, but related to the brightly clad girl ahead. The scout heard the howl again. This time the baying sounded as if it were closer.

“That’s not Iron Wolves,” said Pack in a small voice as Worm scooped up his littler brother and deposited him back on the half-orc’s broad shoulders.
“Gods no!” said the woman, “much worse. Bloodwraiths.!” Ashrem thought he detected the hint of panic in the woman’s voice.  “And they’re getting closer.” The howls answered as if in agreement, echoing throughout the corridors.

“Karmen,” said the ebony haired woman from ahead, “we have to move.” She dipped out of sight, around a corner. The other girl moved quickly behind, leaving Ashrem and the brothers to follow along passage after passage in the darkness.

“Did she just say Karmen? said Pack from atop his perch. “But that would make her…” Pack began kicking his brother’s chest with the back of his heels in excitement. “Worm! Worm! Guess who that is! No, wait, you’ll never guess. I’ll just tell you to save time, because I think any moment now we’re going to get attacked by some horrible sewer monster.”

“Like a bloodwraith?” Worm grunted. Sarcasm dripped from the words.

“Exactly!” Pack continued, seemingly without missing a beat. The scout couldn’t help but notice that the bard had somehow found a way to use his brother’s long and loping strides as a cadence for his neverending speech. “How’d you know that’s what I was thinking of, anyway? Is it that we’ve been spending too much time together again? I bet it’s…”

Worm grunted again: “Karmen.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess. Karmen.” Ashrem shook his head as he rushed around yet another corner.

“Well I guess that’s right enough, but not what I was looking for. Maybe you don’t actually know what I’m thinking of after all.”

Ashrem wheeled around another corner. Worm’s voice boomed from behind. “Hold on, Pack!” said the half-orc. The scout could hear him splash and slide in the muck. A glance over his shoulder showed the warrior still on his feet and moving again, this time down the new passageway.

The near fall didn’t faze the halfling. “Worm, that’s Karmen _Freeport!_”
“Who?”

“Karmen Freeport! Freeeeeeee-port! Cain Freeport’s daughter!”

“Who?”

“What do you mean who? Cain Freeport? The most famous bard that ever lived! The man who brought peace to Ion and Tor? The…”

“Quiet, you fools!” Ashrem hissed as he saw the human girl in front of him slow. “I do not yet know what form a bloodwraith takes, and have no wish to!” 

She finally came to a stop, straddling the threshold of a broken doorway. It was lined with a heavy powder that smelled faintly of death. “Don’t disturb the powder,” she said as the feloine neared the archway. Ashrem eyed it warily until she continued, “It won’t hurt us, but it’ll give those undead hounds a taste they won’t soon forget.” Then, with a look over the scout’s shoulder, she said, “You’d all better come in.”

Ashrem stepped gingerly over the powder and looked around while the girl repeated her warning about the dust to the brothers. He stood in another high ceilinged chamber: plain walls, four exits, a sliver of what might be dawn’s light filtering in from a tiny crack far overhead, and the dark figure of what could only be the sister – more precisely, now that he could concentrate on the scent, the twin – of the girl Pack claimed was Karmen Freeport. 

The inky cloth that had once covered her face had been removed, exposing a face that the feloine supposed a human male would find aesthetically pleasing. In one hand, she held a long, thin blade: in the other, a half empty vial of bone white dust. He was suddenly aware of the shorter blades in his own hands, and of the discerning eyes of Karmen’s nameless twin, which flicked back and forth between the scout and the brothers, taking in details as the moved. 

Karmen  moved into the chamber with a pair of glowing vials in hand. As she handed one to her black clad sister, the darker of the two spoke, “I heard the name Iron Wolves, and these three don’t have the look for the Pack. They’re on the run.” _Perceptive and quick. This one is dangerous._

Pack started speaking before Ashrem could even open his mouth. “Not so much on the run that we couldn’t lend assistance to two beautiful damsels in,” the bard, once again on his feet rather than his brotherly perch, stopped in the middle of a bow and furrowed his brow, “what did you say you were doing again?”

“We,” said the ebony twin, with a stare toward the halfling, “are leading what’s left of a pack of bloodwraiths back toward their mad creator. You,” she continued, emphasizing as before, “will keep running from the Iron Wolves, or whatever other trouble you’ve got on your tails.” Her tone was final.

“What my sister means is that we’re down to our last two protection draughts,” said Karmen, dangling the remaining vial. Ashrem saw the fairer of the twins nod to the other: he doubted that his companions saw it. “Otherwise we would not turn away the aid of the Heroes of Icemist.”

Pack squealed, “You’ve heard of us? See,” he said, turning to the scout and the warrior, “we’re famous!”

“Probably from all the placards with that Ionian’s face on them,” grunted Worm.

“My apologies,” interrupted the raven haired twin. “I did not recognize you. Still, my sister speaks truth. We haven’t enough draughts to guarantee your safety if you’re caught by those undead beasts. Still…” she paused a moment, looking to her twin, “we might be of some help. 

Karmen reached into her yellow locks and produced a small hairpin. Its head was a delicate crystal butterfly. She raised the crystal to her lips and breathed on it, mouthing a word the feloine could not quite hear. 

Ashrem watched, fascinated, as the crystal glowed softly. Then delicate wings began to flutter. “Stay close to it,” said Karmen. “It will take you to someplace the Iron Wolves won’t touch as long as you stay out of public.” 

The scout wrenched his gaze away from the crystal butterfly back to the Freeport twins. “Why are you doing this?” he said.

“Let’s just say that there is no love lost between the Pack and our…” the baying had begun again, closer than it had been before.

Moments later, Ashrem, Pack, and Worm raced after the streaking and erratic path of the glowing butterfly.


*****




Next time! Who knows when that'll be! Our track-record isn't the greatest here! Seriously!


----------



## Rel

tl;dr


----------



## Aurora

Rel said:
			
		

> tl;dr



Fine, be that way.


----------



## Rel

I hate you guys.  This was another reminder about all that is good and right with this Story Hour and also how infrequently I get to enjoy it.

I particularly loved the "Heroes of Icemist"..."See?  We're famous!" exchange.  The players always love the first time their deeds put them "on the map".

Anyhow, as I've said many times before, "WRITE THE EFFING STORY HOUR, MONKEY BOYS!!"


----------



## Thornir Alekeg

Rel, you are a moderator.  Can't you do something about people hacking into ENWorld accounts and putting up fake posts that tease people into thinking this Story hour isn't dead?


----------



## Rel

Thornir Alekeg said:
			
		

> Rel, you are a moderator.  Can't you do something about people hacking into ENWorld accounts and putting up fake posts that tease people into thinking this Story hour isn't dead?




My position is that if the fakers are going to put up work of this quality, why do we need Enk & d'shai?


----------



## jensun

Hmm, this is no good.  Ive finished reading the SH from the beginning and there is not even the sign of a resolution.  Give more updates please.

Also, excellent work.


----------



## Enkhidu

jensun said:
			
		

> Hmm, this is no good.  Ive finished reading the SH from the beginning and there is not even the sign of a resolution.  Give more updates please.
> 
> Also, excellent work.




Resolution is highly overrated, especially when your just talking about year two of what looks like it will be a 7 year long campaign when everything is said and done (assuming that we don't continue after wrapping up the major plot threads when we get back to it after the new year!).


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## Aurora

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Resolution is highly overrated, especially when your just talking about year two of what looks like it will be a 7 year long campaign when everything is said and done (assuming that we don't continue after wrapping up the major plot threads when we get back to it after the new year!).



But I wants to continue after wrapping up this major plot thread. *shakes fist at Enk*


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## Aurora

Oh, and Dshai is in Orlando for the week so maybe he'll get some writing done.


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## Dawn

I see that there are new posts on this SH and think "Hoot!! They have really updated it!"  Then it's only one entry.    

Well 5 minutes of SH in 6 months beats, um, something I guess.  

Agree about the player's reaction when they receive recognition.  It's like "Wow! That's cool.  People know us!"


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## Bubbalicious

Boy, a month and a half and no one has bitched about no new updates.

I guess if you keep people waiting too long, they stop caring.

Understandable.


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## Dawn

Oh, I keep drifting by and checking in to see if anything has been done here.  Today I see that there is something new, but alas it is not a story update.

Back to reading _other_ updated stories.


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## Tamlyn

Dawn said:
			
		

> Oh, I keep drifting by and checking in to see if anything has been done here.  Today I see that there is something new, but alas it is not a story update.
> 
> Back to reading _other_ updated stories.




Ok, so what other SH's are HoI fans reading? I'm personally only reading Morrus's Age of Worms and Sagiro's. What about you guys? (I know it's off-topic, but I'd like to see this thread have some posts on it again.)


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## Dungannon

The other SH I track is Lazybones'.


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## Enk&D'Shai

*Silent but deadly post*

Well it’s that time of year again.

What time?

The State of the Story Hour Address time.

Oh that time of year. You know what? I did it last year so I think I’ll let you handle it this year. 

You are so kind. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that our numbers are down drastically this year would it?

No, I just don’t want to hog the limelight all the time. I mean I do get all the best lines in these little skits. 

Whatever. Dear Readers,

For those of you that are left. 

Ahem! Dear Readers, I know the last year was not what you expected with the long delays and we would like to apologize...

What are you doing? 

The State of the … 

No, no, no; you are doing it all wrong. Let me show you. 

Dear Readers, Today I have the privilege of writing to you, the reader, about our great, in our minds, story hour. I would like to thank you for supporting us in our support of the writers strike. Without your help we would not have been able to last the year without writing and our brothers of the pen and ink would not have had the guts to follow suit with their own strike against the Hollywood suits. 

What in Hades are you talking about?

Sshhhh. 

Anyway it is your sacrifice that made last year the greatest year for our Story Hour and the support we give to the people who actually get paid to do this stuff. To commend you on this effort we offer a tax break to you on our story hour and want to allow you to reread the previous episodes without hidden costs. 


Good grief. I’m just going to push the button and be glad you didn't blame it on 4E.

*****

INTERLUDE

The man in black squinted as he gazed into the quickly fading light of the setting sun, enjoying the gentle evening breeze that kissed his rather pronounced crow’s feet. Below, he could see several landmarks: a trio of gargoyle-visaged statues spat water into a fountain dominating one corner, a brass knight astride an equally brass destrier stood on another, and the forbidding gates of Tor’s jails sat fixed between them. He took in the scene, and then relaxed back into the long shadow of the rooftop chimney that currently hid him from the ever less busy city streets below.

Within a breath, a second much larger shadow joined him quietly behind the smokestack. “The lamplighters are finishing their rounds and the last of the merchants are disassembling their carts,” said the newcomer. “Are you certain we should do this?”

The man ignored the question and tugged at the red scarf around his neck, “Any word from the streets yet?”

“The Ionian’s friends are on the move, and seem to have avoided capture,” said the shadow.

“Huh. That’s more than a bit surprising. Usually the Wolves are more thorough than that.” The man shifted across the stone until he could see the chimney towering over the other side of the street. There he saw a figure mirroring his own, similar in size and build, wearing the same black garb, and crouching in lengthening shadow. “Banyan’s in place,” he said.

“Of that I am aware. He has been there for some time.” The newcomer chuckled, “You should be proud of the boy.”

“I’d be more proud if he settled down, started a family, and gave me some grandchildren. Leave this life to old lunatics like us.”

“He is your son, Blight Battledancer. What made you presume that he would not follow in your path?”

The two sat in silence as the sun slipped over the horizon. “It is not too late to call an end to this escapade,” said the giant to Blight’s side. “Let the guard and the Iron Wolves deal with this Guild business.”

“You already know we can’t,” said the man in black as the sky took on a rosy glow.

“If we cross this line our mutual understanding with the guard will not last the night,” said the larger of the two.

“We’ve crossed that line before.”

“Yes, but for better reasons than a few dead wizards.” 

“Don’t you ever tire of arguing with me?”

“No,” said the shadowy giant, “Even lunatics need a hobby.” The two figures shared a quiet laugh as they scanned the streets below. 

The laugh ended abruptly as Blight raised a hand and cursed, “Scion’s Breath! We have a problem. That hapless priest is headed straight for the jail’s gates.”

“That is a predicament,” said the shadowy giant. “Witnesses always complicate matters. Exactly how angry would the Old One be if our interloper was injured?”

“Very. He stated very specifically that the priest wasn’t to be harmed even if it meant aborting.” Blight leaned out of the shadows just enough to flash a sign to his son across the street. A moment later he saw its match, “But aborting is out of the question. The Mages Guild will not be kept waiting when it comes to revenge.”

“Change of plan?” said the giant.

“Yes,” said Blight with a frown, “change of plan. You’re going to have to get personal on this one. Banyan and I will cover you.”

Blight heard the giant crack his neck as the massive shadow shifted, “When?”

Blight craned his head over the side to see the priest of Zuras pacing in front of the now opening gates of the jail, his indistinct and angry bellow coming up from below. A single guardsman blocked the cleric’s way while a half dozen more marched up from below and onto the street. The last pair dragged a young, shackled, and olive skinned man between them by the chains they had fitted to both his and their limbs. “Looks like now. They’re moving him.” Blight lifted a bow from the rooftop as the last of the sun’s rays disappeared, leaving bright moonlight in its place. 

The man fitted his red scarf over his face, leaving his eyes and forehead clear and nocked an arrow to his bowstring. “Remember, the priest must not be harmed. Move on my shot.”

He pulled the string back to his cheek, eyes focused on his manacled target and then the shadowed archer let his arrow fly.


END OF INTERLUDE

*****


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## Tamlyn

Holy crap! An update!


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## Rel

Tamlyn said:
			
		

> Holy crap! An update!




I roll to disbelieve.


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## fett527

It was news to me even.


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## Tamlyn

Dungannon said:


> The other SH I track is Lazybones'.




Many thanks, Dungannon. I just finished RA and am up-to-date on KoTS. Very impressed.

Speaking of great SH's, where the heck are you guys???


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